#but these two weeks will be the worse of my life work wise

[artsninspo]

010 | Richmond Inc.

「 ✦ full library & archive ✦ 」

「 ✦ aaron pierre & characters library ✦ 」

⇚ 009

♠ summary: Lorence is confronted with the realities of her current predicament, unchartered territory with her Boss. Her past and present collide while Terry is away on business. But, when he returns - old habits die hard. ❤️‍🩹 🌶️

♠ pairing: Terry Richmond (Aaron Pierre - Rebel Ridge) X Lorence Cole (Black Fem OC)

♠ warnings: NSFW, mature themes

♠ word-count: ~5K

I walk alongside Joel with a smile as he holds Beau’s leash. The past week and a half he’s kept my dog to keep up with Beau’s physical needs, and allow me rest and recovery. My good boy Beau is having the time of his life with Joel’s kids, but now he won’t stop looking back at me. His usual brisk pace is moderate - it’s like he knows I’m hurt and his exuberance is why we’re a part.

“The wife keeps asking when you’re gonna let him sire a litter” Joel asks as we walk to the dog park.

“You know I’ll want to keep every single one of those puppies or make sure they’re close by and I don’t have six people who want a larger dog” I tell him.

“No working lines?” Joel asks to be funny.

“No, none of Beau's babies will be doing any scary shit” I tell him and he laughs.

“You’re not limping as much,” he says.

“I’m feeling better” I tell him honestly.

“And your wrist?” He asks.

“Seems a bit slower to heal” I admit holding up the brace. “Have you heard anything?” I ask and his expression told me he has.

“Rich’s furious” he sighs, talking about the Boss but since that night on the beach I haven’t seen anger from him.

“Really?” I ask.

“Yeah, it’s his own personal project. Everyone’s talking about how he didn’t even wait to get war ready. He just went in there without protection and a handgun after you.” Joel says with eyes trained on me. He’s capable of sensing deception, and I’m no master at it so I swallow hard to give myself time to choose my words wisely.

“It wasn’t the smartest thing to do” I admit. Joel nods and I don’t realize I’m anxious until Beau puts his muzzle against my hand. I smile looking down and pet his head.

“I’m glad he did, sorry I wasn’t there” Joel says again.

“You’re taking care of Beau and I’m glad you were safe. You followed protocol” I remind.

“Emerson said he saw you and Richmond leave the Monaco accommodation together the night before.” Joel trails openly fishing for information..

“After three years of being a tyrant and an asshole he showed me he can be nice. It was surprising, we walked my routes together. He was trying to help me calm down.” I tell Joel and he nods. There’s no happiness in his expression. I swallow bracing for a lecture and he sighs.

“I know you and I know Terry…” He starts.

“Joel-”

“Let me finish” he says in a tone he doesn’t use often. I stop to look at him. “I know you’re type and Richmond isn’t that.” Joel sighs, letting Beau off his leash in the empty dog park. I watch my dog bound away freely. “Are you listening to me?” He asks.

“Yes, you said Richmond isn’t my type” I repeat beginning to shut down.

“He’s not a fling abroad, or a ‘call me whenever you’re in town’ kind of guy. I’m not judging you Lorence.” Joel says knowing me well.

“Sounds like you are,” I mutter.

“I’m not Lorence, I get it. I do. I’m a man. I get wanting freedom. I get that you’re independent and I respect it. But if you think for one minute whatever’s going between the two of you is something you can put away when you’re done I’m letting you know it isn’t that. I had a feeling Terry liked you but fuck did I underestimate how much. The man was willing to take on fire. He’s not the free spirited type you're comfortable with” Joel says stressed.

“Terry and I aren’t sleeping together” I tell him and he puts his head into his hands, sighing. “What?” I ask.

“That’s even worse” he exclaims.

“How?!” I respond.

“We all put ourselves in danger daily. If you meet a soldier who can keep it in his pants, the man is in love. If the display in Monaco isn’t enough - there it is. You need to be straight with him, Lorence. Tell him what you want and what you’re used to. Because Richmond’s not the kind of man I can say I can confidently protect you from” Joel says having had to play the role of crazy ‘older brother’ for me once or twice.

“He wouldn’t hurt me” I say before I can process it. It’s something I know deep down. Joel looks at me like I’m hopeless. It’s new territory for us and somehow this conversation has aged him. My happy go lucky friend is now a concerned father figure. “I’ll talk to him” I concede wanting nothing less than to air out my attachment issues to Terry. Beau comes back from his patrol of the area and Joel tosses his ball for him. I watch beau bound after the ball and retrieve it with a proud prance completely unaware of life's challenges.

“Lorence I’m not trying to beat up on you, okay?” Joel says and I sigh.

“I know, you're a good friend.” I sigh.

“I think you and Terry would be good together if that’s what you wanted. But I also know it takes you longer to settle and trust people.” Joel says knowing the number of men I’ve kept at arm's length, how many girlfriend requests I've declined over the years. I prefer to keep my romantic life as far away as possible from my personal life.

“I don’t even know how to cook well, Terry’s all distinguished company and social commitments. He’s probably like you and wants kids for his family name and I don’t” I start on all the reasons we wouldn’t work long term aloud.

“Stop it Lorence. You learned how to be an agent, you can learn how to cook but you have enough money to hire a live-in chef or order in every day. I’m not telling you to cut it out or end it. I’m telling you to think. You can’t do things the way you normally do. Rich’s your boss and you’re the best at what you do. Figure things out and move forward accordingly. Dont fuck up your work life for some excitement you’ll want to run from in a week. Maybe have Richmond go off on a tirade or two on you so you can figure out what’s going on between you without whispers. Just clean it up” Joel advises reading me for filth and giving me options. I smile appreciating that he doesn't coddle me.

“Okay”  I concede. “Have you ever seen Richmond with women?” I ask, wondering if there was an ex wife or someone else.

“Not seriously, not without a reason” he says.

I raise a brow, “what’s that mean?”

“Why don’t you ask him?” Joel says and I give him an exasperated huff.

“So he’s never asked about me?” I ask.

“Oh he did, but he asks about everyone so I thought nothing of it.” Joel says.

“What’d he ask?”

“If you were single, then if I thought pairing you with some of our colleagues would lead to intimate affairs,” he says. I smile at Terrance’s futile fishing expeditions.

“If you were me, what would you do?” I ask Joel.

“I can’t put myself in the shoes of a woman” he says and I push him playfully with my good hand..

“You know what I mean”

“I know you’re happy and your life is full already but I would like to see you with someone. Someone who loves you and takes care of you. Someone that's always there and you can't avoid. I don't know if that's Terrance Richmond but if it is you deserve it all. Just know that he’s not your usual free spirited guy that’s gonna sit around when you don't call back. He’s a grown man and your boss” Joel says and I sigh with a lot more than I bargained for on my plate. Joel pulls me into a caring hug and I know I’m lucky to have him even if it’s not what I want to hear. He’s right. He’s never steered me wrong before and he’s partly to thank for where I am now in life. So I heed his advice.

…

I’ve been sitting in it all day. From the moment I got home to right now, after midnight I’ve been ruminating on my discussion with Joel. I wish he was wrong about me or Terry but I know deep down he isn’t. Terrance Richmond is a grown ass man with his shit together and isn't chasing his peak. By all means he’s already settled and successful. That’s the kind of resume that would usually keep me away. I’m the girl who likes a summer fling or a vacation romance every now and then. I need the predetermined start and end dates to keep me grounded and sane. That way there’s not too much room for distraction - that way I never end up like my mom. I sigh, wishing Beau was here as I sit alone in my house. Typically it’s my safe space but right now it feels haunted with visions of what was and what could be. Terrance grilling with my father, getting along with my mother - us kissing. 

I close my eyes wishing it wasn’t almost two in the morning and I could call Sin. I make my way to the kitchen for some melatonin when my phone rings. I frown seeing Terrance is calling. 

“Hey” I respond.

“Hey, what are you doing up?” he asks and I frown.

“Can’t sleep” I confess and I hear a car door close.

“What’s wrong, are your injuries keeping you up?” he asks.

“No,” I sigh. “How was your flight?” I ask, hearing a knock at my door. I pull up the security feed.

“It’s me” he says just as I confirm it. It’s like my brain shuts off in a second and I’m heading to let him in. He’s been gone for the past three days. I know now it was to do reconnaissance for what happened in Monaco but we haven’t talked about Monaco since the safehouse. He hugs me gently before putting a kiss on my head.

“Thought I’d drive past your place on my way home” he says, it would be weird if it were anyone else.

“How was your trip?” I ask.

“Could've been better, how are you feeling? If the meds are keeping you awake maybe have them adjusted” he says but I stopped needing my meds two days ago. 

“It’s not the medication - I don’t want to be here alone tonight and I realized it after Sin went to bed” I tell Terry.

“I can drop you off there if that's what you want?” he asks.

“Not it's okay” I sigh looking up at him. Finding peace in his light eyes is the very last thing I thought would ever be possible. I feel my nerves settle and he smirks leaning in to give me a quick kiss. 

“If you want me to stay I can or you can come over to my place” he offers. 

“Let me pack a bag” I smiled, letting go of him. I head up to my room and throw everything I’ll need in an overnight bag. I realize I've been advised against lifting and call him. He emerges moments later looking around at my bedroom. I realize the decor isn’t everyone’s cup of tea but I’m still finding my signature style. 

“Are all these plants real?” he asks.

“Yeah” I nod, getting my slippers and putting them in my bag. When I look at him he’s looking at the plants with a smile again.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he yawns.

“You don’t like it, do you?” I ask, thinking of my father who still doesn't understand why I have so much ‘dirt’ in my room. 

“I didn’t say that” he says coming over to my vanity as I pack my makeup bag. He dips his head sniffing my neck before placing a kiss on the same spot. 

“Which one is that?” he asks, looking at the perfume bottles in front of me. I hand him the bottle.

“Sin and I did a perfume workshop in Paris. I made this” I say.

“Is Sin your best friend?” he asks.

“Yup, my mom was the babysitter while aunt Kaye was out, so we’re very close” I explain.

“Pack a swimsuit,” he says.

“Why?” I ask heading over to my drawers to find one.

“I have a pool and water therapy is good for recovery,” he says. Of course he has a pool.

“Of course you have a pool, how else would you come up with sick and twisted water endurance tests for us” I tease getting my swimsuit and putting it in the bag. 

“Swimming is perfect low impact active recovery, that’s why I have a pool” he says as I zip my bag. He takes it with ease adding me to his load and descending the stairs. I lock up and I head to his car with him. I schedule send a text to Sin that I’m with Terrance so someone knows by location. My conversation gnaws at my consciousness as I get in with him.

“If you're having flashbacks from Monaco you can tell me, PTSD is better treated sooner than later” he says resting a hand on my thigh. 

“I’m not” I tell him truthfully.

“Lorence, I know what you look like at peace and I know how you look stressed,” he says. 

“The car is in darkness” I state matter of factly.

“Not dark enough” he responds.

“So the pretty cat eyes come with night vision?” I ask turning to his shadowy shadowy silhouette.

“I pay attention,” he says at the stoplight. Red hues are cast into the car and I make out worry in his expression.

“I’m just having a bad day,” I confess.

“Anything I can do?” He asks and it makes my heart swell. I lean on his shoulder.

“This is good” I admit and he gives my leg a squeeze. We drive for another twenty minutes in silence. I watch closely and find us in the most expensive residential part of town. I sit upright looking at the gorgeous homes as we enter the gated community. It’s not full of cookie-cutter houses; but architectural feats that are unique in their own way. We turn off the main road into a driveway lined with trees. We drive for another minute before arriving on a lit driveway and a castle-like house. I look at Terrance and wonder how much he actually makes. It makes my home look like a toy. He opens the garage and we drive in. He gets out with my bag and I follow suit. When we enter his home I step back and look around at his manor. It’s not that I didn't expect him to live in a nice place but I definitely didn't expect this. The room is white with black and grey accents all over. There are high ceilings and top of the line furnishings. Not a single thing is out of place and it’s classic but elevated like the man himself.

“Come on, let's take the elevator” he says. Of course he has an elevator. I follow him to a hidden elevator door that seamlessly integrates into the wall.

“DId you buy or build this?” I ask as we step in.

“I built it” he responds, pressing a console that takes us up. But the door in front of us doesn't open. One does to the side of us. He steps out first and by the scent of his cologne I know we’re in his closet. We enter the main part of his bedroom and his bed is bigger than any I've even seen before. “Let me get a shower, then if you're hungry we can get something to eat or drink.” he says leaving me to my own devices.

I’ve never been so out of step, actually Terrance Richmond keeps me in a state of frenzy. If he was a gentleman, he’d have offered me my own room. But we’re past that now aren't we? Joel's warning comes back to me as I change into pj’s instead of the silk negligee I packed. I sit on the ottoman at the foot of the bed and take it all in. I take off my wrist brace and massage the area as I take stock of his home. Why would he want me when he has all this and my own mother didn't want me? There it is, the thought that’s ruined every single one of my relationships. The pain that’s never really gone and keeps me in safe comfortable solitude. I wipe the silent tears and stand going to his full length mirror to wipe them away. I put on a brave face and sit back on the bed. Terry comes out minutes later smelling heavenly and with black silk pants.

“Your eyes are red,” he says.

“The tiredness hit me” I lie and he nods, pulling back the sheets for me to climb in. I do, facing away from him and he turns off the light. A moment passes before he reaches out and pulls me back against the heat of his bare chest, wrapping his arms around me. It takes a few minutes before our breaths sync and our chests rise and fall in tandem. It’s the most non sexually intimate exchange I've ever had with a man I don't consider family. I place my hand over his and he pulls me even closer.

“Feeling disoriented after a traumatic experience like what you went through in Monaco is normal. You don't have to be strong around me if you feel down” he says. “I know you’re crying - you don't have to tell me why. Just know I’m here” he says before kissing my cheek. He has the patience of a saint putting up with me like this when we should be keeping things light and fun.

“I’m sorry for ruining-”

“Lorence being real with me won't ruin anything” he says.

“Yes it will” I tell him.

“You’ve had a stressful few weeks. From Switzerland to now. In part because of me. You're having a bad day and telling me why won't ruin anything” he says in his usual cadence like he’s commanding time and there's no rush.

“Can we talk about it later? Or never?” I propose and he scoffs letting me go. It’s happening faster than I could have even imagined. He sits on the edge of the bed. It takes me a moment to swallow my fears and try to fix it.

“Tell me a joke, make me laugh” I say to break up the silence and distance but it stretches on. The rejection starts to sting until he clears his throat.

“What do me and elephants have in common?’ he asks, turning to me. It’s a trap, a well laid trap and I can't help but smile.

“You're tall and strong?” I propose not playing into it.

“What else?” he asks with humour in his voice. I shake my head not wanting to give him a complex about his ears anymore than I already have. 

“I don't know” I lie.

“We both never forget” he says, subverting my expectations and I laugh relieved to have not said the wrong thing. “And we have big ears,” he adds. I sit beside him and he taps on the sconces above his bed giving us dim light.

“What do you call a cow with no legs?” I ask.

“No clue” he shrugs.

“Ground beef” I respond and he shakes his head. “Your’s was worse” I snicker.

“It still made you smile,” he shrugs. 

“I hope you know I didn't mean anything by it. I just felt cornered and was popping off at the mouth” I apologize. 

“I know you weren't being malicious. I’ve heard much worse from people I pushed less. It’s pretty wholesome stuff for an agent” he says. 

“Here I was feeling bad” I shrug and he takes my chin kissing me softly.

“I’m not someone you have to handle with kid gloves Lorena.” The look he gives me is both scathing and sympathetic. My shoulders fall and I start to feel bad for my emotions today. Here I have this man that’s asking to be there for me and ran into a life threatening situation to rescue me, and I’m allowing the actions of others who never showed me that same concern decades ago ruin things.

“I’m so-”

“Let’s start tonight over” Terry says, cutting my apology off. I can’t help but smile.

“Okay” I nod and he lifts me off the bed and sits me across his lap.

“I missed you” he says, smothering me in quick kisses.

“I missed you too” I take his chin, bringing his lips to mine.

“When you miss me, call me, as long as I’m not in the middle of something I’ll answer”  he says.

“Okay”

“Got you something” he says and I sit up.

“Really?” I ask and he nods.

“It’s in the car let me go get it” he says standing and setting me down gently.

“Okay” I agree and he leaves. I look at my bag before going into it and grabbing the negligee. The bathroom lights flick on as I enter. It’s as impressive as what I've seen of the rest of the house. I rid myself of the pajama pants set and put on the night dress. I look myself over before walking back into the bedroom. I sit on the couch in the sitting area instead of the bed and he emerges with two bags. He looks up after setting them down. It takes a moment for him to locate me. His eyes focus on the change and he comes over holding a frame and something wrapped.

“The dress is nice,” he comments, drinking me in with his eyes.

“I don't sleep in pants usually - unless it's winter” I tell him as he takes the seat next to me.

“Good to know,” he says, placing the wrapped square on my lap. He turns on another lamp and I tear the brown wrapping paper. A night scene is in front of me and I smile the moment I recognize it. The beach at night, in Monaco where we sat together. I run my hand over the coarse texture of the sand.

“The artist used sand from the beach,” he says, confirming that’s where he spent the last few days.

“It’s gorgeous” I smile and he does too.

“You like it?” He asks and I nod. Getting this made for me only confirms I was on his mind while he was away.

“I do, thank you” I smile giving him a hug. He kisses my cheek before pulling out the frame housing the caricature art of us. In the chaos of my stuff being cleared out I thought for sure that art piece was left behind.

“I can't believe you had this framed” I laugh looking at it.

“The person at the studio said a frame was the best way to preserve it” he says and I kiss him.

“Now I’ve got to find somewhere to put this. I know where I’m gonna put the canvas” I tell him. “Thank you for thinking of me” I tell him and he seems to take a back.

“Lorena, I haven't stopped thinking about you since you walked into my office wearing that striped blue shirt and grey slacks.” he says stopping time. I turn to him and try to go back to that day. My heart races as I come up short on the memory. “Your hair was straight, parted in the middle and you smelled like flowers” he says. I swallow hard, blinking fast to keep the emotions at bay. My favorite perfume then was Miss Dior. Guilt swells as my appreciation grows and my emotions are a seesaw. “What?” he asks.

“I was doubting the logistics of us today. Not because I don't want to see where things go but … Terrance this is new for me. Not just that you're my boss and the CEO of the company I work for - I have to figure out to toe the line there. But even this; the sharing space … I probably don't make any sense. You already know I avoid uncomfortable situations and I like to run but I know I can't run from you … not that I want to but today it’s felt like my head wa in a pressure cooker” I confess struggling to articulate my complicated feelings and fears. Terry looks at me. His usual expression is replaced by an empathetic one. He reaches for me and places a kiss on my forehead instead of responding with words.

“What do you think?” I ask with a racing heart.

“I’m sorry you had a bad day” he says holding me instead of taking issue with my honest emotions. He’s so different from who I thought I knew him to be.

“You're not upset?” I ask.

“No” he says without needing to consider it. I take a moment before pulling back to look him over. He's resolute in his answer, his hand slides down over my dress resting on my hip. “You’re here now - in my arms, in my home, telling me how you felt, smelling good and looking better. What do I have to be upset about?” he asks, surprising me. “I’m not a CEO in this dynamic,” he says, placing a kiss on my shoulder. 

“Your dominance is not something you can turn off” I tell him and he smiles. “I’m not asking you to either but it's there” I tell him and he takes a moment smiling again. 

“What?” I ask.

“It’s not productive” he says, keeping whatever it is to himself. 

“Tell me”

“There are better ways to clear your head,” he advises. After our walk on the beach, I sit forward ready to hear his advice.

“I’m listening?’ I say and he comes in for a kiss, when he pulls away he gets up  and then somehow ends up on his knees in front of me. His eyes tell me where his mind is. I take a breath more familiar with this territory. He kisses each of my inner thighs.

“You have the CEO on his knees” he says, still dominating me in a submissive position. My heart races as passion pools in me. He waits for permission and I nod giving him the green light. His hands slide up my legs and under my thong, grabbing the sides he pulls it off. He scoots me forward gently on the side of my injury, he places kisses on my inner thighs sliding me onto my back comfortably before setting my legs over his shoulders so he’s locked in to my center and I’m locked in his hold. Terry caresses me, upping the tension and kindling sparks I didn't know existed. It leaves searing anticipation igniting all the parts of my body that drive sensory pleasure. He gives me a final look at the same time he takes my hand - our fingers interlock and his head dips out of sight and under the hiked up negligee. His beard tickles my center as he parts my other set of lips with his tongue.

The kiss builds to one of the ones my mouth is used to being treated with. My body’s reaction to him is something new as the tension builds. My hand caresses his waves in a gesture of encouragement and appreciation. There’s nothing to be said as my breaths grow increasingly more shallow. I go to cover my mouth but his fingers don’t release their grip on mine, not allowing the contact to break.

“Be as loud as you want baby” he says, giving me the green light. I swallow my moan and he blows on my clit sending a wave of pleasure through me. My moan is inevitable and when he starts sucking on it I'm finished. I squirm but he has me locked firmly in position giving me more and more. 

“Stay still for me baby” he says, sounding so patient. I moan trying to oblige him but it's so much and so good.

“Let me hear you Lorence” he says pausing, before I can obey he adds one of his long fingers into me sucking and fucking me. Taunting me. My nipples are harder than ever. The nerve endings in my core are stimulated to the point of delirium. 

“It feels so good” I praise his efforts.

“You’re perfect” he whispers finger fucking me as I come. His eyes are on me as I try to handle the sensations from the orgasmic relief. My body is several degrees hotter and I know he can see my nipples fighting to be seen and tended to under the silk dress. He keeps his eyes on me, letting one of my legs down and allowing me to watch him lap up my pleasure with the same attention to detail as he has for everything else. He's a perfectionist and that was nothing less. I sit up needing to kiss him, I pull him up to meet me so we’re face to face. Terry obliges the heat of his bare chest radiating into me, melting the apprehension away. I wrap my legs around his and feel his manhood poking me in my sternum through his pants. I want more, I need him. His eyes tell me we’re just getting started when the kiss is broken.

“Did like that Lorence” he smiles, licking what's left of my orgasm from his lips. His eyes spark as my expression changes. We’re so far gone from like, it’s time to practice making love.

authors note: sound off in the comments and let me know how you felt about getting to know Lorence's softer side and insecurities and how Terry's handling everything on his plate. Also, yes theres more 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️ in the next chapter - had to break it up because it was getting too long.

click here to ✮ join taglist ✮ and be notified when new updates drop.

tags:

@wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana

@theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads @roxytheimmortal @fairytale07 @rampsen @rosey1981 @lauraaan182 @lynaye1993 @g1g1l @writingsbytee @different-fandomz @rose-bliss

@loveschrisbrown20 @cherrybeedotcom @ariiaellbtheedonn @motheroffae @prettylilteine @thabiddie23 @next-bex-bet @magik22 @slvt4her @blckblossom @gopaperless

@naughtynolly-blog @daddiespamm @blackmoonchilee @nikkireeds553 @lovedlover @akiwioflife @shurisleftearring @piscesdashcam @bettybelle @kaystacks17 @notapradagurl7

@hotebonynearby  @armani9-9 @wildcardmelaninfreak @blackgurlkillinit  @freshbonggwater @biafranbombshell @aunicornmademedoit @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful

@xochesstinaxo @babymelaninn. @destinio1

[royaltea000]

[stress relief doodle] just wanted to let you guys know that he’s always had those stupid tassels dw

[sistertotheknowitall]

Masterpost

“But to the BatFam? That is just Some Guy. A random dude - if you will.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m missing my spleen.”

“Oh cool, yeah, missing organs suck. I’m missing a kidney and part of my liver. Oh! And my gallbladder but that was more of a necessary evil, it was like, poisoning me or something.” Danny was so focused on applying pressure to his wound (and maybe being a bit too light headed) that he didn’t notice how silent his friend had gotten. Like-wise the comms had gone equally quiet as Gotham’s vigilante family realized that they knew very little about this kid.

It was concerning how quickly they all started to see him as a friend considering it was them as vigilantes he interacted with the most. Tim was the only one who saw him frequently when out of the suit because he was a regular at Danny’s day job. (He worked as a barista in the coffee shop Tim favored.) The others saw him occasionally but more often than not it was just in passing. Steph, Duke, and Dick had to stop themselves from approaching him on the street.

It was odd, one day he had just moved to Gotham, seeming to appear out of nowhere, and then the next he was a constant presence in their lives. Usually armed and ready with a concerning or odd quip, it had started with him being another victim of the city’s petty criminals and had snowballed from there.

Now it wasn’t like the bats saw Danny everyday, but it was expected that he would cross paths with at least three of them before the end of the week. They ran into him more often than any other Gothamite, including the criminals and rouges they fought.

At first the constant meetings by “coincidence” was suspicious. If he wasn’t the one being saved from a mugging, kidnapping, or city wide villain assault, then he was near by and trying to help.

(“Trying to help” usually meant drawing attention to himself so the original victim could escape. Once it had meant Danny armed with a baseball bat against four grown men. Bruce and Dick have tried to talk to him about putting himself in harms way but the kid is surprisingly elusive when he wants to be. Yet, even when avoiding Batman and his eldest, Danny could be found on the patrol route of another family member.)

But honestly? The guy seemed just as exhausted as they were of seeing each other. By the twelfth time in a month, Danny had accused them of stalking him.

The background check Bruce and Tim had run came back clean and he never seemed to be involved in the various criminal activities. He was just there, a weirdly unlucky bystander. So as far as Dick and the others could see, Danny was a completely normal dude. He just said strange things and wasn’t intimidated by them, he actually made it a point to be unhelpful sometimes. When trying to learn his name he gave them the run around for two months. (“I know about stranger danger. I don’t care how often you say you’re the ‘good guys.’ I’m not falling for it.”)

On one memorable occasion Danny had disappeared for a week and a half. When they started to assume the worse, he popped back up behind the counter at work. Tim had relaxed significantly when he entered the shop to Danny organizing pastries in the display case. Once he’d placed his order, the young CEO asked Danny if he’d been on vacation. To which Danny had just sighed and told Tim “I wish, but no I was called to court to handle some affairs I couldn’t get out of.” (After a check to see if Danny had gotten charged with something and coming back empty, Tim had concluded that it was an odd way to say he had had jury duty.)

Thinking about it now, outside a stray comment or two, Danny didn’t talk about himself or his life. They knew he didn’t have a good relationship with his parents, “they were much more goal oriented than that joke of a kidnapper, but I think drugs do that to a person.” (It was still unclear if he meant his parents were kidnappers themselves or on drugs.) They knew he had an older sister who would “kill me again if she finds out I was in another bank robbery.” They also knew he was, possibly, depressed after last week’s comment of “is it considered murder if you’re already dead but, like, still alive?” (Damian had saved him from a drug ring but after another “baby ninja” comment the young Robin had threatened to give Danny back to his would-be murderers.)

Dick knew Danny was a weird guy who never wanted to elaborate on the things he said. (Jason was still confused on what he meant by “rotted milk soul.”) That didn’t mean the comments themselves didn’t say a lot about him. And tonight’s comment, accompanied by the prominent and jagged autopsy scars, said more than Danny was probably willing to share.

Part one

[hirayalore]

the one where sirius black escapes from azkaban and finds you.

pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

rating: PG-15

content: angst, established relationship au

warning/s: swearing, kinda canon, and once more a lot of angst!!!!

note. well,,,, it’s abvious that your girl is going through it shdjshdjhs i basically have a lot of sirius imagines in my brain that i would like to write. this is the second fic i wrote that has a similar theme of sirius being reunited with a lover after he escaped azkaban and it’s likely that it won’t be the last hehehe

Sirius knew that it wasn’t wise to be here.

And yet here he was, in his Animagus form, watching you as you took your usual evening stroll at the park near your apartment building.

He was aware that after the war—after the death of Lily and James, after almost all of your friends who were part of the Order met the same demise, after his imprisonment because of what Peter Pettigrew made everyone believe—you moved to a small and quiet Muggle village, far from the wizarding world that tore you apart and changed you for the worse.

From what he has observed for days now, you were working at this old bookshop that was run by a family friend. You were some sort of assistant, arranging the books being delivered every other week and looking after the store throughout the day, acting as the cashier and all. You always wore different light colored blouses during your shift, tucked in faded jeans and matched with beige sandals, as if it was some sort of prescribed uniform that you had to wear during working hours.

Sirius could remember how the world felt like it stopped spinning when he first caught a glimpse of you again, finally finding you after weeks of trying to locate where you might have fled to. Despite how your face has matured over time and your aura has grown to be more sophisticated, he still saw the girl he fell in love with at Hogwarts, and it caused his heart to ache a thousand times more.

Nonetheless, he supposed that this new life was better for you.

You were no longer at risk to be hurt or in danger now that you were here. He could see that you were contented, that you were healed in some way after everything that you experienced—but he couldn’t deny that a small part of him wished that you at least stayed in contact with someone from the Order, knowing that it would assure Sirius that you were being looked after and wasn’t completely on your own.

Slowly following you to the bakery you often visited to grab something to eat, Sirius stopped across the street and sat there on the pavement, gazing at you from the window.

To passersby, he appeared like an intimidating large black dog waiting for his owner to come get him again. It was due to his eye-catching guise that there were people who looked at him anxiously as they walked along his path, or those who purposely avoided marching too close in fear of being mauled or chased after.

He paid them no attention whatsoever. All that mattered to him was you—and how when you turned to your left, gaze flickering outside the bakery and coincidentally landing on Sirius, he saw the instant flash of recognition that spread on your features, causing his furry black ears to shoot straight up.

****

You almost dropped the paper bag being handed to you by the cashier at the sight of the black dog on the other side of the street.

It can’t be… you told yourself, swallowing hard as the dog began to stand up from its sitting position and turn away, now walking towards the bushes where you could easily lose sight of it.

You might have been living peacefully at this Muggle town you’ve grown accustomed with over the years, have done a great job in mingling with Muggles and pretending to be one of them, but it has been two weeks since a copy of the Daily Prophet arrived at your doorstep that told you of Sirius’ escape from Azkaban, and it has easily brought you back to the world that you wished you could easily forget.

Hence, every part of you was screaming that it was him.

That the black dog you just made eye contact with was Sirius Black.

No matter how many years it has been, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of something familiar—something long forgotten that it overwhelmed you for a quick second before you found yourself running out of the bakery, sprinting to where the black dog had gone. 

You ran as fast as you could, heart pounding inside your chest, chasing after him even though you have completely lost track of where he decided to go.

You ran around the area until your knees gave out, until you had yourself convinced that maybe you were only seeing things and it wasn’t a black dog that you saw earlier.

You stopped running at an alleyway, now covered in sweat as you tried regulating your breathing from the marathon you just did. Your chest made it seem like it was close to giving out, and your eyes were stinging from either the cold or the realization of how much you needed to see Sirius.

As you turned your heel around, about to walk back to your apartment and gather your thoughts there, a shadowed figure was standing before you a few steps away, his hair long and matted, his clothes tattered and large.

You stopped breathing.

“Sirius?” you whispered, taking a purposeful step forward.

He didn’t move. He remained frozen in place as you approached him, reaching to where he was and courageously placing your palms against his cheeks, a gesture meant to check if he was really here like your eyes were showing you.

Sirius closed his eyes, inhaling sharply at the contact, and without words spoken, you pulled him close, hauling his head down to lay on your shoulder and embracing him tightly as you let out a surprised gasp at what was happening at this moment.

When you fled from your old life, you swore you never wanted to go back. You were convinced that it was no use staying when everybody was against you—when Sirius, the man you loved and the man you were supposed to marry, was convicted for a crime you knew he could never do.

Regardless of how much you pleaded to everyone to believe in you, they never did. In their eyes, Sirius Black was a treacherous friend to James Potter, that he was the reason why James and Lily were killed that night and poor little Harry had to grow up without his parents. Even Remus, his best friend, had his doubts about Sirius’ loyalty that it caused a temporary wound to yours and his friendship.

Regardless of everything though, regardless of how much you stayed away from your old life and tried moving on, you never stopped thinking about Sirius. You were always haunted by his fate, by what happened to your friends, and by what could have happened if only all you had been wiser with your decision in switching Peter as the new Secret Keeper last minute.

“You’re here.” You pulled back, staring at Sirius who was still speechless, your eyes flickering to every part of his face as if you were memorizing his features. “You’re really here. How did you find me?”

A ghost of a smile appeared in his mouth. “I have my ways.”

“Of course, you do.” You breathed out, disbelief still lacing your tone. “But you—it isn’t safe. You’re supposed to be hiding. The Dementors—”

“I know,” he said, wincing a bit at the reminder of those awful creatures. “It’s unsafe for me to be here, but I had to. I just had to see how you were. I’ll leave as soon as—”

“No.” You shook your head, your palms falling from his face so that you could hold onto his arms. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re coming with me.”

“____, let’s not—”

“I wasn’t asking for permission, Sirius.” You told him sharply. “Come on.”

He was about to protest, to reiterate that it wasn’t safe of him to be here nor was it safe for you to be seen in contact with him, but before he could let a word out, you were already tugging him with you hurriedly to where your apartment was, aiming to go there quicker to avoid detection.

****

You were like in some sort of frantic trance, he could see that.

As soon the both of you arrived inside your apartment, you were locking the door manually and then grabbing your wand that was hidden in some sort of cabinet, soon muttering a bunch of incantations at every corner of your place in what Sirius assumed was your way of ensuring that he wouldn’t get discovered here.

You have always been a smart witch, way too smart for everyone when the both of you were still studying at Hogwarts. Even though he was considered intelligent himself, you were on another level. It reached to the point that professors allowed you to visit the restricted section of the library, keen in helping you foster your potential by giving you access to advanced magical studies—the same advanced magical studies that he assumed were where you learned the spells you were chanting right now.

When you were done, you walked towards him again, only to abruptly pause.

You gazed at him, this expression on your face making it obvious that you weren’t used to seeing him so near and within reach. Sirius reckoned that he looked horrible, with dark circles under his eyes and a thin, gaunt face that was vastly different from the appearance he had when you first fell in love with him. The realization made him a bit self-conscious, like he didn’t deserve to be here nor should have shown himself to you in such a state.

But the second you started striding to him once more, this soft smile on your face as you reached for his hands, it made him remember how he managed to survive being in Azkaban all these years. It was the confidence that even if everybody easily turned their backs on him—he still had you.

“Do you want to take a bath first? Get settled in?” you asked.

He was silent at first, and then he spoke. “You’re handling this way easier than I expected.”

“What do you mean?”

“Aren’t you angry at me?” he replied to your question with another query himself. 

You raised an eyebrow. “For coming here?”

“For everything.” His tongue felt like sandpaper. “For being the reckless git I have always been. For getting myself locked up. For leaving you. For letting James and Lily—”

You cut him off before he could finish speaking, squeezing his arms. “Love, that wasn’t your fault.”

“But it is. I was a coward. I shouldn’t have insisted on making Peter the Secret Keeper. I should have taken the responsibility myself, regardless of whether those bloody Death Eaters hunted me down and tortured me.”

Aside from Dumbledore himself, you were only the other person that was told that Peter would be the Secret Keeper instead of Sirius. It was Sirius who told you so, not being able to keep such important information from the person he trusted the most. And so when the Potters’ location was discovered, you believed Sirius’ suspicion of Peter being the one to blame.

However, Sirius decided to go alone when he went to confront Peter about it, thus being caught up with their friend’s uncharacteristically clever plan of framing him for not only James and Lily’s death, but his murder and the murder of several Muggles as well.

“It’s not your fault,” you repeated firmly. “We had no way of foreseeing the future.”

“He’s alive, you know,” he muttered. “Peter. He’s alive.”

At that, you leaned back a bit, surprised by the declaration. Although you didn’t believe that Sirius could kill him, you didn’t believe that Peter was still alive either.

“I saw him. On the Daily Prophet. He’s the rat perched on Weasley’s shoulder,” he said. “There’s no mistaking it. I could recognize his Animagus form anywhere.”

You pressed your lips together. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m completely positive. It’s why—” he sighed, exhaling through his nose— “it’s why I escaped, ____. I have to avenge James and Lily. I have to talk to Dumbledore. There’s a lot of unfinished business I have to attend to now that the Dark Lord is rising again.”

“Unfinished business?”

“Yes, and Harry, I have to talk to him, make him understand and—”

“And what about me?”

It caught him off guard. “What?”

“Me, Sirius,” you retracted your hands, taking a step back and looking at him with absolute hurt, “what about me? Did you just plan on escaping, hurting everyone, getting your good old revenge without regard to what’s going to happen to us now that we can finally be together?”

He opened his mouth. “Don’t… don’t put it that way.”

“Then how should I put it? I mean, if I hadn’t seen you earlier, you probably wouldn’t have talked to me. You wouldn’t have shown yourself.”

“I didn’t want you to get involved,” he reasoned, attempting to regain the proximity you two had before you moved away. “I’ve been watching you for days. Weeks. And I know better than to ruin the peace you have now.”

“Peace? You don’t know what you’re talking about.” You scoffed. “Do you really think what I have now is peace? Before you escaped, the knowledge of you being Azkaban with those Dementors—knowing that I couldn’t do anything, knowing that I couldn’t talk to you and make sure that you were fine—” Your voice broke and your eyes began to well up rapidly. “I hadn’t slept properly since then, Sirius. Do you know why I still get newspapers from the Daily Prophet? It’s because if for some reason they found you lifeless in your prison cell—perhaps I’d finally gain the courage to stop pretending that I still want to live without you by my side.”

The implication of your words struck him. He didn’t think that his absence impacted you in that sense, that while the thought of you comforted him in the decade he has spent locked away from society, you felt the opposite, instead tormented by his case and the weight of his absence.

Without hesitating, he engulfed you in a hug, strong arms wounding itself tightly around your waist. “I—” He didn’t know what to say. He has never been good at words, anyway. “Darling, you’re the most important person to me.”

You cried on his shoulder, returning his embrace. “It doesn’t feel that way.”

“I just thought…” He closed his eyes in regret for ever thinking in this manner. “I just thought you’d be better without me. That you would have wanted it. You just… you looked okay. I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You’re a twat, Sirius.”

Despite the insult, he found himself chuckling at the reminiscent feeling of being scolded by you, his hold becoming more unyielding. “I am. Perhaps even the bloody worst one out there.”

“You are. I’m glad you know.”

“I know, love.”

“And yet I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you muttered, a bit muffled. “I’d take you back. Every single time. So, please, always come back to me.”

He drew his head back, about to assure you about never wanting to leave you again, when he noticed your necklace and its pendant that twinkled slightly due to the light hitting it in the perfect spot.

The more he stared, the more he realized that it wasn’t an ordinary pendant or charm. It was a ring.

Your engagement ring. The exact ring he gave to you on his knees when he proposed.

Sirius never cried. He wasn’t that type of man who channeled emotions that proper way. He often resorted into inappropriate laughter or anger—but this moment right here, at the sight of your engagement ring dangling against your collarbone, the very object that he never imagined you would still have in your possession after everything that had commenced—it made his hands tremble, his throat to suddenly burn, his breath to hitch, and before he could control his composure, the dam cracked. 

“Sirius?” You exclaimed, worried.

“You still have it.” He declared in between sobs, delicately adjusting your clothes so he could see the ring better on your neck. “The ring. The engagement ring.”

You glanced down, as if forgetting you had it, and smiled slightly in understanding. “Why wouldn’t I? You told me it cost a fortune.” You teased him.

“____,” he said your name again, groaning and pressing his forehead on yours, tears still streaming down his cheeks that you were wiping away with the pads of your thumbs, “tell me anything you need. I’ll give it to you. I’ll give you everything you want.”

He kissed you passionately and you didn’t think twice about kissing him back.

“I only need you, love,” you murmured. “Just you. Just us. That’s all I need.”

He nodded vigorously. “You have me. You always did, and you always will.” He couldn’t stop kissing you, couldn’t stop doing the one thing he felt like could make you grasp how important you were to him. “Once I fix everything, I’ll give you a good life. I won’t let anything get in between us ever again.”

Even if you wanted to reply, you couldn’t, for Sirius never strayed his mouth away from yours, as if he was afraid that the loss of touch would separate the both of you once more.

gentle reminder: this author loves feedback! let her know your thoughts if you enjoyed reading this fic and you’ll add 100+ points in her writing motivation meter ♡

[m7meds]

‼️Please don’t skip taking a look 🇵🇸

A small donation can make a big difference 🙏🇵🇸

Any donation can make a difference

Hi, my Muhammad

A 21 year old young man with big dreams. As the eldest son in my house, I used to be the greatest joy of my family. As you know, being a medical student in Gaza comes with its own challenges and hard work.

Since October 7th everything changed, and my life took a turn for the worse. Unfortunately, two weeks later I lost my home, my dream, my college, and my father’s income, which unfortunately means he can no longer support us.

Everything I was waiting for was gone and became impossible to achieve

During this occupation I volunteered at Al-Shifa Hospital for a month

It was an eye-opening experience for me that made me

feel better and kept me going.

So I want to finish what I started.

So I started this, to tell my story and help me reach my dream

to become wise.

[sanguineterrain]

okay i've had this thought brewing for a while and i think you're the only writer who would do it justice!

reader meets jason again post-lazarus pit and he's amazed by how different reader is look-wise. reader was a teenager the last time they saw jason and now as an adult they've gotten a more "adult" body. reader is curvier, fleshier, no longer as lean as they were as a teen and is a bit self conscious about their body. but it drives jason wild to see his old crush all grown up into this mature body, hell he's changed a lot too. but yeah i feel like jason would be so body positive and full of praise 🩷

decided to combine this with a request i got for this prompt: 8) we share the bed because this is what we’ve done since we were kids, regardless of the adult implications now. i so agree with you anon, i think jason would be simultaneously body positive and absolutely FERAL for his old/current crush ;)

jason todd x gn!plus-sized!reader. reader used to work with the bats and is best friends with jayjay. reader is insecure and speaks poorly about their body. jason does NOT like that and desires you carnally! wahoo! suggestive content but no outright smut.

****

You haven't been in Jason's room in five years.

Alfred's kept it pretty much the same. Same books on the shelves, same Gotham Knights sweatshirt Dick gave Jason for his birthday. The curtains are the same shade of maroon, and the left one has a tear from when you played with a batarang. Jason had covered for you and was grounded for a week.

You flip through a dog-eared copy of The Three Musketeers. A few of the pages have underlining in pencil. You trace them with your finger.

The door creaks open. You look up.

Jason freezes in the threshold. His wrist is bandaged and you can see stitches on his forehead. You frown.

"Hey." You set down the book and go to him, offering your shoulder for him to lean on. "You okay?"

Jason sighs, ignoring your shoulder. "Who called you?"

"What d'you mean? We're psychically linked, Jay-Jay. I sensed that there was trouble afoot in Gotham City."

"Uh-huh. That didn't work when you tried to convince the old man I needed a puppy because you psychically divined that it knew me in a previous life."

"You and that Terrier were soulmates and I'll hear nothing of the contrary."

You take Jason's arm, despite his protests that he can make it two feet to the bed. He lays down, trying to hide how his arm twinges in pain. You frown and slip in beside him.

Jason's a lot bigger than he was the last time you shared a bed. Well. You both are. You roll over so you're facing him, squished against his side. You pull your leg up, suddenly self-conscious about everything Jason might be able to see.

Jason is warm. He's warm and big and solid and good God, you've missed him.

Your best friend is also fucking gorgeous and you really want to kiss him, but, uh. Ignoring that. You're very practiced at ignoring the urge to kiss Jason.

"Thanks for comin'."

The light is still on, casting a soft orange glow across Jason's features. He glances at you, lashes casting shadows on his cheeks. You can count all the freckles on his nose, this close.

"I'll always come when you call, Jay," you say. "Well, when Dickie calls. Said you got a concussion."

He turns his head, sighing at the ceiling. "'S not a big deal. Mild concussion. Leslie said I'll be fine in a week, but we all know that's code for two days."

"Yeah, I don't think so. You bats really are birds of a feather."

"How dare you. 'M nothing like those wackos."

"Sure, buddy. Keep lying to yourself. You brought me in all those years ago for a little normalcy."

"My mistake," Jason says.

He gets thwacked with a pillow for that. It fluffs his curls. He grins at you.

You tuck in closer, resting your chin on his shoulder. Jason turns his head so his cheek rests on the top of your head.

"You can have the bed," he says.

"Don't be a silly goose."

"'M gonna go home anyway."

You scoff. "Not like this, you're not."

"Been worse for wear."

You roll your eyes. "How are you gonna ride your bike with a hurt wrist and a concussion, genius?"

"Please, babe. The real question is how will I sneak past Alfred?"

"I'm a babe, now?"

Jason half-smiles. "Always were."

"Liar. Can you imagine me in a Batsuit again? Exactly, you can't. I simply don't have the bod for it."

"Hey." Jason reaches down and gently pinches your thigh. "Why ya doin' that?"

"Doing what?"

"Talkin' bad about yourself. Don't do that. 'Sides, it ain't true."

"Jaybird." You level him with a look. "Be serious. I know you're my best friend and you have to say that, but c'mon. I've seen the hotties you work with. Hell, I've seen Bruce and Dickie."

Jason's face twists in disgust. "Do not call my dad and brother hot."

"Okay, fine. I've seen you."

His brows rise. "What?"

"What, what?"

"Are you... callin' me..."

You snort. "Duh. Have you seen yourself? You've always been cute, Jason. If you didn't have the demeanor of a honey badger, you'd be fending off marriage proposals left and right from the Gotham public. You've always been the prettier one of us, Jay-Jay."

Jason's quiet. You keep going.

"Anyway, neon's never been my color, and it seems like that's a pretty immovable requirement these days. Like, I get Clark's trying to be seen from space but he doesn't get bloated. And the Spandex? Goodness gracious—"

"Y'really see yourself like that?"

Jason's staring at you with a wrinkled brow, mouth set.

"Like what?"

"Like you're not pretty? Like I'm too good for ya?"

You prop your head up on your arm. "You've always been too good for me, Jason Todd."

"That's just not true. And you're fuckin' beautiful, so stop sayin' that shit."

You blink. "Jay, c'mon—"

"No. It's true, so stop. You're the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure to know, and if anybody's gettin' proposed to, it's you."

"Jason." Your face is on fire. Why did you open your mouth? "Stop. It's fine. So I'm different; my body's changed and shit. I'm not an athletic vigilante anymore. My thighs have, like, their own zip code. It's my own fault. I didn't keep up the training and whaa—!"

In one fluid motion, Jason's rolled you onto him. Your legs straddle his waist. You catch yourself on his shoulders, then begin to scramble off, burning with embarrassment.

"Sorry, I'm heavy, you're injured—" you babble, picking up your leg.

"Will you quit?" Jason keeps your leg exactly where it is, tenderly stroking your ankle with his thumb. "Actin' like I'm made of whipped cream."

"You're concussed."

"Mildly."

"Stop, Jason. Please. You don't have to do this to-to prove a point. I get it, I won't talk bad about myself."

Bit hypocritical, considering some of the stuff you know for a fact Jason believes about himself.

But this is humiliating, your extremely attractive, crime-fighting best friend pretending that you haven't totally let yourself go all to bolster your ego.

"Nah, I don't think you get it," Jason says conversationally. His hand creeps under your shirt. You squirm. "I really, really don't think you get how fuckin' gone I am for ya."

"Huh?"

"Oh, yeah. Now, that's my fault, never sayin' anything. I was being cowardly. So lemme make it clear for ya, sweetheart."

His hand leaves your ankle and pulls your face to his. And then Jason kisses you.

"You're concussed," you whimper against his mouth. "Jason, you're—"

Jason laughs, low and sweet. He strokes the side of your face. "I could have amnesia and I wouldn't forget the fact that I've been in love with my best friend since I was fourteen."

"Are you sure you don't want me to move? I can—"

"No way. Y'know how long I've wanted you on me? Shit, I sound like a creep, thinking 'bout you like that, but—"

Jason rolls you both onto your sides. He hefts your leg over his, so you're slotted between each other. Then he kisses your neck, mouth hot and desperate. You gasp, belly swooping.

How long have you wanted this? How long did you believe you'd never feel this way about another person after Jason?

"I can promise you," Jason says, breathing hard against your skin. "You're a knockout. You knock me out. And I'll knock out anyone who says otherwise."

You huff and get a little braver, kissing Jason and returning him onto his back. He grins, sharp and hungry. He wants you. There's no doubt.

"I still think you're concussed," you murmur, letting him feel up your shirt. "But lucky for you, I have the utmost sympathy for poor, bedridden bats."

Jason hums, grunting when your teeth scrape his ear. "Oh, I've always known I was the lucky one, having you."

[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 6.

Summary: Felix learns about what happened between you and Oliver at the club, and some jackass makes assumptions about you and Felix and your intentions towards Oliver. The interaction gets you worked up enough that you feel the need to repay Felix as when he'd defended you. With sex.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: SMUT; AFAB!reader, d/s dynamics, felix being a chatty brat, assume the reader is on birth control, unprotected sex.

A/N: 4782 words. cannot go two chapters without having a felix/reader moment it seems. bare with me i swear we get more oliver as it goes on, but he's just watching through the blinds right now and collecting information. also forgive me, not only is this unedited, it's also the first actual, explicit smut scene i've written in years, and even longer since i've been intimate with someone with a dick. i also dont read smut so this might be weird pacing wise at the end. honestly the smut is just a backdrop for character development. have at ye, and please lemme know what you think!

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

Summer creeps in almost insidiously, days getting longer and warmer, humidity forcing it's way into every single facet of your lives. Afternoons outside of classes are spent doing not much of anything, hoping that when night falls, the temperature will fall with it.

This afternoon is the coolest you've had in several weeks, laying on Felix's floor, listening to him play the guitar while Oliver was draped over the foot of his bed, gazing at Felix's bookshelf. There's a sweet breeze through the open window and you hum along to the tune you recognise your best friend playing, letting yourself soak in the moment.

The quiet spell breaks as Oliver moves, reaches out for something on Felix's bookshelf.

"That's cute," he muses, "baby Felix." It must be the photo of Felix and his childhood dog, the you'd only met once or twice as a kid before he'd passed, before you'd been properly friends. But Oliver puts the photo back almost as fast as he'd picked it up, "there aren't any pictures of me as a kid," he muses.

"You and Y/N have that in common," Felix says idly, surprising both you and Oliver, though for different reasons; you hadn't even realised he'd remembered that about you. Your vapid, jet-setting, philanthropist parents had always been incredibly image conscious, and a child was never part of that image. Born out of obligation to their own parents to produce a grandchild to make eventual inheritance easier, they longed to distance themselves from the very idea of you unless they desperately needed to.

And they hadn't for as long as you've been alive.

"If there were baby photos of me, that'd prove that my parents had a child," you laughed, but there was no real humour in it, "and none of us wants that."

The invisible heir.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Oliver says faintly, an unfamiliar, unreadable look in his eyes as he gazes over at you. You give a blithe shrug.

"It means I got to find a home in Felix," you say easily, the wording sappy enough to make Felix himself laugh.

"You're such a sap, that's so much nicer than what I was going to say."

"Go on then, out with it," you prompted him, despite his faint, playful protest.

"I was going to call you another ward of the Saltburn Estate," Felix grins at you, "for better or worse."

"At least you had a family who loved you," Oliver turns away again, pressing his cheek to the duvet as his gaze focused back on the photo of Felix and his dog, "even if they weren't yours." There's a distinct discomfort in the air now, a reminder of how vastly Oliver's life differs from your own.

"I was lucky in a lot of ways," is all you can think to say. Felix starts playing guitar again.

These long days turn into long nights, parties, girls and boys and everyone in between, hazy chats and drinking games and hands on you - holding you, dancing with you, brushing past, tapping with excitement, always hands on you. The quiet way Oliver goes through these strange situations may be read as awkward to everyone else, but you're no longer under any such illusions.

"You're desperate to feel needed."

There was no hesitation in his voice the other night, his hands on you, his mouth on you.

"Then need me, want me."

How easily he'd made you flustered in the club, you didn't realise he had it in him. Honestly if you hadn't experienced it yourself, you wouldn't believe it if someone else had told you. There's been a change, however, a subtle, unnoticeable one to anyone looking in from the outside. Every so often, on nights out, you'll catch him watching you with that same hungry look in his eyes, but will never act on it, however much you wish he would.

"I do, but not like this, not now."

What the fuck was he playing at? You never knew how to bring it up, even when you were alone together. But he never stopped reached out for you, he never shied away from your touch. Apart from this one thing, it was the exact same as before.

If only that one thing didn't have the potential to change everything.

"Has Ollie seemed any different to you lately?" You go to the only person you know you can trust with this. Felix frowns at his hand of cards for a long moment before looking back up at you.

"Sorry, what was the question?"

"Ollie," you go a little slower, rearranging your own hand of cards, "does he seem... I don't know, different to you?" Then, as Felix was considering, "got any fives?"

"Go fish." You should both be studying for an upcoming exam.

"What do you mean? Has anyone said anything to you?" Felix momentarily put down his cards to relight his cigarette, fixing you with an intense gaze, "did something happen?"

"Did someone say something to you?" You pivot for the moment, still looking at your cards.

"Annabel."

"Annabel?"

"About her birthday thing."

"Are you taking your turn or what?"

"Oh, right," he's still frowning, picking up his cards with his free hand, "threes?" You swear as you hand over two threes, as he quietly cheers.

"Anyways, what about Annabel's birthday thing? Does she has a problem with Ollie?" At your question, Felix ums and ahs, and avoids eye contact, "yes then?"

"No-one else in the group is a huge fan of him," he even sounds guilty admitting it out loud, "everyone else can kind of feel how out of place he is and it makes things awkward. I know we think he's lovely," Felix tried to quickly placate you, or perhaps his own conscience, "but the man's got zero chat." This does, however, make you snort.

"Ollie's got chat," you smirk down at your cards, only realising what you'd said when you're met with a shocked silence. Looking up, Felix is staring at you with utter surprise.

"Does he now?" He sounds downright scandalised. You can feel yourself growing flustered, both under Felix's delighted, intrigued gaze, and at your own memories from the club, "so something did happen?"

"Nothing happened!"

"Something definitely happened!"

"I didn't fuck him."

"Between nothing and fucking there's a whole lot of somethings that could have happened," card game completely forgotten, Felix is enraptured as you begin to briefly explain the interaction at the club -

"- and well then, he starts calling me out while aggressively making out with me," you take a deep, final breath, finally looking Felix in the eyes, "and I desperately wanted to fuck him because of it." You sigh, and give Felix plenty of time to process the story and recover.

"But you didn't?" Finally, he speaks, and you groaned, throwing your head back to look at the stars.

"No," you sulked, "he disappeared into the crowd and I had to get myself off twice before I could sleep that night. Fucking tease," but you're heart's not really mad at Oliver.

"Always fascinated to learn what turns you on," Felix is desperately trying to hold in his laughter. It's not working, "many of them baffle me."

"That's not the point here, Fi," you rolled your eyes, leaning back against the gravel roof finally, laying back. You hear the pebbles shifting, and moments later Felix joins you, hands behind his head, "I don't know how to talk about it with him," you say softly. Then, tone much lighter, "and it doesn't surprise me that Annabel thinks he has no chat, he just doesn't want to fuck her, and she can't fathom a world where anyone doesn't want her."

Felix laughs, but unfortunately isn't able to offer any real advice to you about your Oliver situation.

Oliver Quick was an anomaly in your life, you should maybe have suspected his friendship to bring on further anomalous occurrences.

"Leave Oliver Quick alone," like the voice in the library that greets you harshly whilst you're hunting down a textbook. Spinning to see who it is, you lay eyes on a blonde man in dreadfully practical clothes; he's glaring at you like you've done him some personal offense.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he says sharply, gaze as unwavering as his tone, "you vapid -" he stops himself for a moment, face turning red with anger, "pricks," he settles on, "leave Oliver Quick alone, for his sake."

"Is this a joke?"

"Oh I'm not one for jokes, especially not with the likes of you; I know how you and Mister Catton operate. Selfish," he hissed.

"Do I know you?" Its genuine confusion, and for a moment the man's expression turned annoyed, his righteous indignation turning to faint disappointment as you refused to take him and his request seriously.

"Michael," like it should mean something to you, "Michael Gavey;" still nothing, "I was in the year below you at high school for four years."

"Well, Michael," you start slowly, bordering on condescending, "Ollie's a big boy -"

"I know you; you'll get bored, you two always do," Michael cuts you off with a sneer, some of that anger from just earlier returning, "he deserves more than to be a footnote in your frivolous little lives."

"Fuck off, Mikey." You say it as a warning.

"Michael," he corrects through gritted teeth, "Felix is a slag, which makes you the sensible one, so I thought you'd actually listen -" but the realisation hits you, right as you start to see red.

"You've already tried talking to Ollie," immediately, your tone ices over, humourless, cruel little smile twisting the edges of your lips. Noticing your change in demeanour, the fight seems to drain out of Michael before your very eyes, "and he ignored you, didn't he?" You asked, already knowing the answer from the way he was trying to stammer through an answer.

"Now, Michael," you tell him with a poisonous smile, taking even, measured steps towards him, as you turn his name over on your tongue with as much malice as you can manage, "Michael Gavey, I think I do know you," you're playing with your food, drawing out his discomfort with every slow word; you weren't cruel by nature, not unless someone found which button to press, "first year," you drop your voice low as you get into his space. He starts to shrink backwards, but you're practically on his toes until you're crowding him against the bookshelf, "math genius, shouts in the dining hall -"

"I didn't- just once-"

"If you ever," there's a furious look in your eyes behind your sinister smile as you stand toe-to-toe with Michael, "and I mean fucking ever, breathe the word slag in Felix's direction, or any other insult for that matter," you wet your lips, "I promise the only job you will ever get for the rest of your life will be that of a high school English tutor," you pet his cheek condescendingly, "for students with dyscalculia."

Michael actually shudders.

"You know I can do it too, don't you?" You press, and he nods, looking both furious and ashamed where he can't look you in the eyes, "we went to high school together, Mikey, I know where you came from, I can dictate where you will go." Stepping back, you clear your throat. Nodding to him, you turn on your heel to head further into the library, to continue searching for your book.

Trying to move past it doesn't work, it still irks you, you still can't stop thinking about his weaselly little face, the bitter sneer he wore, and the cruelty with which he spoke about you and Felix. It haunts you. The audacity.

Textbook in hand, you immediately head for the patch of greenery and trees near Oliver's dorm, where you know Felix and the rest of your friends will all be spending their afternoon.

"Ooh~ Y/N coming in hot," Farleigh called, spotting the metaphorical cloud of thunder above you before anyone else.

"What are you doing now?" Ignoring everyone else, you only have eyes for Felix. He grins up at you from where he was using Farleigh's thigh as a pillow.

"I assume whatever it is you're about to ask of me," he says blithely, while the others watch the interaction with amusement.

"I need to rant," was all you said, and Felix held out his hand for you to help him up.

"You're so sexy when you're angry," he says teasingly for the whole group to hear, "has anyone ever told you that?"

"I'm not kidding," you scowl, and his grin widens.

"I know, that's the best part, I could listen to you yell for hours, I usually never get to hear it." The banter continues on the way back to your dorm. The others know it's probably a cover, though none of them, apart from Farleigh of course, know the truth. Most assume you're moments from a breakdown and would like to have your best friend there for support.

The minute you're back in your room, you slam the door shut and toss the textbook to the side. Felix asks you what's wrong, tone still light, and you can feel that protective anger flaring up in you.

Slag.

"If you don't hold me back I might start getting into scraps," you tells him with seriousness, stalking up to him with intent, planting an almost bruising kiss on his lips as you fumble with the buttons of your shirt. It's not often that you're the one getting riled up; Felix is more than enthusiastic.

"Don't fight on my behalf," he laughs, frantically pulling off his sweater. Pausing for a moment to help him with the pullover, the minute it's off and tossed to the side, you're unbuttoning his shirt with one hand as best your able, as he's trying to tug your shirt off in the chaos. The two of you are moving to the bed, and he actually gasps when the back of his legs hit, when you take a beat to raise your eyebrows at him, silently asking permission.

He's already letting himself fall back with a wicked, delighted grin as your hand finds his bare chest.

Then he's breathless, with you braced over him, gazing down at him with a furious determination that you don't usually allow yourself to build up. Felix looks up at you with pure extasy in his eyes, like you hang the stars in the sky. His hands on your ass, his grip is firm and secure, but he doesn't move; he's letting you lead.

"Felix Catton, I ruin lives for you," you practically snarl; a breathy laugh escapes him, caught up in the moment, in the mood that's been building within you, "doesn't feel like enough sometimes -"

"You're so fucking hot," he groans like he can't even help himself, can't hold himself back, can't help but close the gap to your lips, kissing you with that same intensity you're giving him.

"If I hear-" you punctuate your words with rough kisses, "another word-" biting at his lips, "against you, I'm -" fumbling with his belt, "I'm gonna start cutting people -"

"Yeah?" Felix prompts breathlessly with a sharp grin, not even waiting to get your fly all the way down before his hand is in your pants, fingers at an awkward angle in your jeans but still finding your clit. It's like you're feeling everything tenfold with the earlier outrage still burning in your veins -

Vapid pricks. The likes of you. Slag. Watching Felix's hands on the girl in the club. The venom in his voice and fury in his eyes when he'd pinned Farleigh to the wall to defend you - Our Felix; Oliver's voice like honey in your ears, tempting that jealous creature in your chest that you'd gone for years ignoring -

"My Felix," you'd purred as your hand found his cock. For a moment, his breath came out as a stutter, eyes going wide as they meets yours. He looks almost incredulous, then, after a moment, hungry, wanting. It's captivating; he's captivating, like he's desperate to devour every part of this moment and you in it, barely holding himself back.

"One more time for me?" He requests, voice low and pleased, before he changes tactics, indicating for both of you to actually take off your pants.

"Everyone's fucking wrong about you," you tell him, kicking your jeans to the side, watching for a moment as he shimmies with his jeans, looking like he's made of ninety percent limbs. Still, your intensity holds.

"Even the people that like me?" Felix laughs, finally getting himself free of the jeans. Before he can remove his boxers, however, you're on him once more, thumbs hooking into the waistband and pulling them down slowly as you speak.

"Everyone else has these versions of you in their head," you begin to plant kisses along his inner thigh as you work your way up, looking up at him through your lashes, "where you're either an angel who can do no wrong," Felix is already hard when you begin to slowly work your hand up and down the shaft of his cock, "or the absolute devil who's a scourge on the female population," your lip curls for a moment, a derisive kind of amusement at their imagined expense.

"I can't look at you right now," he half chokes out, head falling back against your duvet, "fuck," he gasps. It's enough to bring you back to the moment, and you apologise -

"No, fuck, don't stop anything; the ranting, the -" he gestures to where your movements had slowed briefly, "any of it, I just literally," he laughs a little awkwardly, almost a little self-deprecatingly, "will not last more than a minute if I look at you right now."

Oh.

Oh! This is good!

"What's so different," he prompts through shaky breathes - you can't quite believe how much he's effected by you in this moment, how enthusiastically, how desperately he responds to your dominant intensity - "about the version of me in your head?"

After a beat, you climb off of him, already reaching for your drawer.

"Everything okay?" He asks, eyes opening as he tilts his head to look at you. Pulling out a tube of lube, you focus on opening it up, rather than Felix himself. You should be using protection, you know you should be using protection, but you want to feel all of him, only him.

"I can't talk with my mouth full," you told him, still maintaining that steely intensity, "so we're skipping foreplay." Felix, immediately understanding where you were going with all this, looks back up at the ceiling with a wide smile.

"Fine by me; right now I'm inclined to say that you can do whatever you want forever, honestly - cold!" He announced with shock, jerking up a little as you glided a generous amount of lubricant over his cock. There's a faint look of betray in his eyes, but you just gave him a thin, mean smile.

"Felix, stop talking."

The commanding tone is enough to get him back on board, groaning, arching into your touch as you once again were working his shaft, now so slick your hand glided easily up and down the impressive length.

"My Felix," voice once again low, you use some of the excess lubricant on yourself. Since leaving the library, however, your anger had known it's outlet; just the idea of fucking Felix in a righteous fury had gotten you going, and you were already wet, wanting, desperate for him.

"Don't make me beg," he all but whimpered as you finally straddled his thighs, "fuck, I'll do it for you, but -"

"Shut. Up. Felix." You leaned down, chest pressed to his lips inches from his, whispering, "I won't make you beg," as you sink down onto his cock, swallowing his moan with a kiss.

"I am under no illusions about you, Felix," you begin to murmur, hips rolling at a deep, consistent rhythm, "I don't have a version of you in my head, I just have you; I just want you, as you are."

Pace picking up, you sit, rake your nails lightly down his chest, watch as he pants and groans beneath you. When he holds your hips, your thighs, you can feels his nails digging in, burying himself deep inside of you with each rhythmic thrust. There's something primal and triumphant roaring in your chest, pushing you to sink your nails into him, your teeth -

"I don't care who you fuck," you tell him through gritted teeth, picking up your pace, thighs burning.

"You're a fucking liar," tumbles from Felix's lips as he looks up at you with a smirk.

"I don't, I'd be a hypocrite -" very suddenly, Felix sits up, and you go still with him still inside of you, adjusting to the change, wrapping your legs around him.

"Then you're a hypocrite," he smirks, gaze hazy, heady, euphoric in this moment, "and a liar," and he wraps his arms around you as he kisses you, pulling you back with him as he lays back down on the bed.

"I'm not jealous," you start again, softer this time, but still aiming for stern.

"I'll say I believe you," there's mischief in Felix's eyes as his hand snakes between the two of you, fingers rubbing circles against your clit as you pick your rhythm back up again, slower this time.

"Fi," for the first time all afternoon, your voice softens, and you let your stern demeanour break, instead looking over him, glowing with sweat and endorphins, in your bed, in you, looking up at you with nothing but love in his eyes, "I don't care if nobody knows it's me, but -" you wet your lips, wicked little smile on your lips, "I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."

Something about your words, your request, perhaps your tone, sets him off again; you rake your nails lightly down his chest again and he arches up, swearing, almost breathless.

"Yes, fuck, yes," comes out alongside a breathless moan, "my Y/N, anything you want - please."

You paint him blue and purple and the deepest, prettiest red with hickeys, leaving him looking absolutely scandalous. Of course he returns the favour in the form of scratch marks up your back and his teeth almost drawing blood from your shoulder. When he comes it's with your mouth on his neck and his cock deep inside of you, holding you close, holding you steady, whispering incoherent praise into your ear. Always diligent, he doesn't move, doesn't pull out or away from you before his focus is on you, making sure you get off, delighting in watching you unravel on top of him.

In the afterglow, amid the sharing of a cigarette and catching of your breath, you apologise softly.

"What are you apologising for?" He immediately cracks a grin, "in fact, any time you ever start to get all worked up and mean like that, have me on speed dial -"

"I - no, Fi," you sighed, amused at his suggestion, though it was fading fast, "I just... try not to be jealous," there's faint notes of guilt now that you've come down from the adrenaline and endorphins of it all. Sitting against the headboard, you draw your knees up to your chest.

"I know," Felix says easily, sitting up beside you, resting his head against your shoulder, his hand on your knee, "I try too... I don't think I'm always that great at hiding it." Then, after a moment, his tone lightens, "I think this is why I don't want to tell people about us, I don't think I could begin to explain it in a way that makes sense." It gets you to laugh, leaning into him, tension and guilt easing.

"I thought it was the rush of sneaking around and lying to people."

"There's that too," he agreed with a chuckle. The two of you fall into easy silence as he takes a drag on the cigarette and hands it over. The afternoon is sticky-hot, especially in your room, curtains still half open but window shut. As you go to open it, not caring about potential onlookers in the twilight, past the sliver of your curtain, Felix speaks up.

"There's no version of me in your head? Not even a little bit rose-coloured-glasses tinted?" He grins at you, and you lay out on the bed, looking up at him through your lashes. After a moment of simply taking the moment in, you shake your head with a soft smile.

"I told you, I'm under no illusions about you, Fi."

"I think you're too good to me for that to be true."

"I want you as you are, dude," you shrug, as if it's the easiest truth in the world.

"As I am?" He wants to be sceptical but his tone and the look in his eyes betrays him. You've never heard him quite so soft you think, eyes wide and glassy and full of conflict and love; everyone wants him, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be him or be with him, he's reckoned with his reality a long time ago, even if he wasn't entirely conscious of it. Felix's life had been picked apart by everyone around him at the surface level for as long as he could remember, perhaps he'd thought that no-one would ever care to look deeper. Perhaps he'd gotten so used to it that he'd forgotten there was anything deeper.

"I want the Felix who can't keep a girlfriend for more than two months, and who's cheated on every single one of them with me," you start, wearing a grin despite his sudden frown, "I want the Felix who hugs and kisses strangers after just meeting them because he's bursting at the seams with affection, I want the Felix who won't admit that he sleeps better with someone next to him at night, and the Felix who recaps the books he's been reading to me like they're gossip. The Felix who uses people, and breaks hearts, who says he doesn't know he's doing it but I know you do," you laugh, sitting up on your knees and letting the blankets slide down your back as Felix looks up at you now with a fond kind of reverence, "I want the Felix that lights up every room he's in without even trying, who makes everyone around him feel like they're the only person in the world, and that same Felix who still shifts over, mid conversation with someone else, for me to sit down beside him without having to even ask, because you know we'll always come back to each other," you lean down, lips inches from his, burning intensity in your gaze as you take in the reverence in his eyes, "the Fi who fights for me, the Fi who loves that I'd ruin lives for him, my Felix -" You see the moment he can no longer hold himself back, arcing forward, moving from the headboard to be by you, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. For a long moment it's your mouth fitting perfectly against his, faint, desperate groan being pulled from the back of his throat as he takes your face in his hands, firm, warm, wanting, deepening the kiss.

"Some of those things were pretty shit," he laughed a little self consciously after the kiss breaks, both of you breathing heavy. In his eyes you can see the barest hint of conflict.

"People have said worse."

"And you got them expelled," he reminded with a faint smile, but again there's that conflict, "and they aren't you."

"You're my best mate," you laugh easily, "that shit, the good and the less good, makes you my Felix. Be pretty shit of me to want to chop and change who you are, you know?"

For a very long moment, you watch the way he slowly begins to smile, to take all your saying in drinking in this sun-drenched moment. Reaching out, he carefully touches your cheek.

"Say it again then," he prompts, sounding almost giddy, feather-light touches as if mapping your delicate features in this moment. For a brief second you're confused, barely angling your head to indicate as such before you can see his faint blush beneath his golden skin, creeping up his cheeks. When he laughs, almost self conscious, you realise, and grin back.

"You're a sap."

"Don't make me beg."

"My Felix."

[itsythebitsyspider]

Silco x fem reader

Took out the slowburn because as a wise person once said, I have no impulse control. Enjoy the smut.

Anyways, I'm also like, way to tired and impatient to edit this before posting, so: fuck it no beta we die like men.

Here's the main things that was asked of me to give you a basic summary of what's going on:

Silco x fem reader, you are a healer, smut.

Pretty sure there was supposed to be angst and hurt comfort, I guess it's there if you squint. I was also asked a 5,000 word minimum so... yeah. Pardon me for letting that slip my mind. Anyways, enjoy this little drabble. I'm going to bed.

Two  years ago you were a herbalist in Zaun. Your parents owned a flower shop of sorts that specializes in healing and harming plants. Growing up, you earned your green thumbs and were able to hold a stable life for you and your parents. That was, until the enforcers came around. They had been searching for four kids who had caused a massive explosion in some fancy rich guy’s lab. You had denied them entry of course, but they never really listened anyway. They pushed their way into your shop, and ultimately ended up setting half of it on fire. This left you and your family struggling for a while, forcing you to take drastic measures. Before, you had only provided people with the ingredients to make the poisons or the remedies. But now, people are paying you to create them. Some of them even paid you to deliver it personally to the target. It was tough at first, figuring out how to distribute the poison without getting caught. You weren’t a trained assassin. But, you weren’t just some nobody off the street either. 

Everything in Zaun would break down at one point, causing most people to have some knowledge of machinery. You had fixed up one too many humidifiers and dehumidifiers at this point to not be able to repurpose them into something new. Leading you to create a small canister that, when activated, would subtly fill the room with the poison. Once the victim had fallen under its effects, you could go in and retrieve the canister, and then make your exit to collect the pay. 

You had gotten so good at this in fact, that it had caught the eye of the smoke-breather of the underground himself. Silco. It had happened once or twice that he’d hire you. Usually to take out some target in some random location. You didn’t ask, you didn’t need to know. Eventually, he asked you to take out a large group of people, larger than you’d ever done before. You’d hesitated, but the moment you saw the money, suddenly all your worries were gone. You completed the job with barely any bumps, and returned to Silco. Instead of leaving with the money, you ended up leaving with the money and a new job. Silco’s new toxicant. 

Now, two years later, it seemed your job had become more peaceful. You found yourself healing more often than you were killing. Every other day you’d get one of Silco’s henchmen coming into your office for some wound or bruise that they’d gotten in a scuffle. It was Friday that was the most important day of your work week. Every Friday you would be in Silco’s office tending to his eye. The shimmer was doing its job of keeping his eye mutation at bay, but the pain would still linger. Your job was to make sure that the eye wasn’t getting any worse, and to dull the pain as much as possible. An additional part of that job was taking care of Jinx whenever you were at work. You didn’t sign up for babysitting. 

“I didn’t exactly sign up to be a babysitter, y’know that right?” You raised an eyebrow at Silco while you started setting up your mini workspace. 

“I do recall you being desperate for cash once.” 

“Yeah, once.” You retorted, carefully handling the glass vials you pulled out of the bag. “I’m well off now.” 

“Would you continue to be this way if I were to relinquish you from your position?” 

You paused for a minute. Would you be alright if you quit? He’d probably kill you. You were too good at your job for him to just let you go. You decided just to roll your eyes and finish setting out the ingredients on his desk. Just as you were about to start working your magic, the door bursts open. You don’t even have to look up to know who it is. Who else is brave enough to slam the doors open and yell, 

“THUNDER AND LIGHTING! THE BLUE BUNNY IS BACK IN THE BUILDING!”

You cursed under your breath. You’d tried your best to teach her proper manners, but they never really took. At least, if they did, she never bothered to use them. “Jinx how many–” Your eyes widened as you took in the state of her. “Jinx!” You rushed over, immediately grabbing her arm and wiping the soot off to try and see if there was still skin underneath all the ash that seemed to cover her entirely. 

“What happened?!” You exclaimed, scrambling through your pockets for a rag that wasn’t covered in blood or dirt. 

“Oh, this ol’ boo boo? It was actually exactly like Silky-boy here predicted!” She bounded over to his desk, glancing at all the bottles you had laid on on the surface before moving to the other side and sitting down, kicking her feet. “Firelights were tagging our stuff. Turns out, they also had an enforcer on their payroll. Which! Doesn’t make sense cause uh- yknow. Bugs don’t have jobs. They don’t get paid too well.” She giggled. “Well, unless they’re a butt-kicking slug wrestler!” 

She promptly frowned. “Mm…” 

You let out a worried sound and walked over, having finally found a clean rag and started cleaning off the blood and ash. “So, explain what happened on the flight.” 

“Thought I saw her.” Jinx muttered, a distant look in her eyes. She seemed frazzled. 

‘Saw who?’ you almost asked, but you knew almost immediately who she was talking about. 

“She’s gone, Jinx.” Silco spoke up from his chair. You had almost forgotten he was there, the man’s presence so silent that he could sneak up on a fly. “Whoever you saw–”

“Wasn’t her. I know.” Jinx furrowed her brow. “Whoever she was, she ran. Like a coward.” 

“Was? What did you–”

“Gave her a taste of underground lead!” Jinx grinned. “Oh you should’ve been there! Pew pew pew! God the firelights really should get better at dodging. Anyways~! I think we’d make a whole bunch more cash if we made fireworks. Did you know shimmer is like- super explosive? The whole airship nearly went BOOM!” The blue haired girl threw her hands in the air, making an exaggerated explosion sound before plopping down onto the desk. 

“Cmon plant lady! Work your magic so I can get to hopping!” Jinx complained. 

You sighed and rummaged through your bag, trying your best to apply the antiseptic onto the squirming girl.  After struggling to put some bandages on, you sent her on her way, and she bounded merrily off to do God knows what, God knows where. Probably figure out that shimmer firework idea of hers down in her lair. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose. 

“I know that look. I’ve made it many times when raising that strange creature.” Silco chuckled, patting the stool next to his chair. You grumbled and sat down, grabbing your vials and beginning to grab the final ingredients. “She’s more troublesome than finding mold in my Burdock root.” You grumbled, shoving the plants into the small machine and pressing a button. The muted whirring of the machine started off. 

“Yet, you seem to care for her regardless.” 

“Just because it's troublesome doesn’t mean it’s something to give up on.” 

You glanced at the door Jinx left through, mind flashing through the two years you’ve known her now. You were only there for two years, but it felt like you’d known them for much longer. The machine on the desk beeped and you sighed, pouring the powder into the previously prepared mixture and stirred it for a few moments. 

“Alright, c’mere. And you better hold still.” 

Silco obliged, turning his large chair to face you. You pulled on a rubber glove from one of the little pockets on her belt and dipped two fingers in, gently reaching out to apply the new salve to his scars. 

“It surprises me that it still hurts after all these years.” You commented as you tried to smooth out the mix on his face. “I’m no doctor, hardly anyone down here is, but I’m starting to think it’s phantom pains.” 

“What makes you think that?” 

“Chemical burns like this would’ve damaged the nerve endings. Most of the time it causes numbness. I mean, the damage it’s left on your face, I’m pretty convinced your nerve endings have just been fried.” 

“For someone who isn’t a doctor, you seem to know a few things.” The man in front of you spoke, doing his best to remain still while you worked. 

“Being the main healer here– other than Singed of course, but I don’t exactly trust his work ethic, I’ve picked up on a few things.” You finish applying the salve and check your watch. “Three minutes.” You murmured to yourself. 

“Singed is the best thing we have to a doctor.” 

“Yeah, I know.” I sighed. “I just… wish there were better options, y’know?”

Silco crossed his arms. “We’ve been trying to get better options for a while. Right now, we have to make do with Singed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Your whole, ‘make them fear us’ agenda.” You groaned. “Look, I just think there’s a better way–”

“And do, pray tell, share the secret to utopia. Because I and many others have been working towards this for years now, and we’d love for you to come and spout some naivety on our hard work.” 

You glared at him. “Okay what is with the sudden hostility? I’m just trying to have a conversation here and you want to be an asshole about it.” 

“Hostility? Darling I am being realistic. You are a good healer. A good Toxicant. But there’s a reason I’m the one running things and you remain in a clean room fixing up injuries.” 

“You little–”

The beeping from your watch saved you from potentially losing your job. You bit your lip and reached for a wet cloth, wiping off the cream. “There. If it still hurts, apply this and let it sit for three minutes before wiping it off.” You said through gritted teeth, grabbing your things and shoving them into your bag before storming off. If you were in here any longer, you were going to make sure he could only see through one eye. 

Sadly, there was no rest for you seeing as you returned to work the following Monday. There was a meeting Silco had asked you to be at. The moment you saw the familiar briefcase with money you knew he wasn’t just asking you to attend. He wanted your services. 

“What’s the job? Based on the stacks, I’m assuming its a group. Pretty big one.” You commented, running your fingers along the dollar bills. 

“Are you familiar with the coal mines?”

You paused and looked up, searching his face for any sign that he was joking or pulling your leg. But as always, his face remained unchanging. 

“Yeah, I’m kinda familiar. My Dad worked there. Sometimes when he’d forget his lunch I’d take it to him. I could barely breathe down there. It felt like my lungs were full of some thick smog.” You grimaced, recalling the air quality down there. It was hard to breathe, and it felt like you were being weighed down. You remember having to go down there and work every now and then when your father came down with an illness or injury. Every time you left, your lungs felt like they’d smoked an entire pack of cigars in just one hour. 

“Could you recreate a version of that very fog?” 

“You want me to do what?” 

“I doubt the people we’ll be meeting today have ever had to work down there in those mines. I can tell just by the way they breathe, even the way they smoke. The way they act so carefree and unburdened, never weighed down by the carts of coal.” Silco’s voice had a slight edge to it. 

“So… an altered version of that? Altered how?” 

“A little easier to breathe through. Perhaps you could rig your machine to release the smoke a little slower. I don’t want them to immediately notice what’s happening until it’s far too late. A little symbolic, don’t you think?”

“Very.” You muttered. Yeah, you could make the humidifier a little more subtle. But making sure they didn’t catch the smell of it? Those mines had a distinct smell. Blood, sweat, and a purely earthy smell. You’d have to cover it up with an even more potent smell. Perhaps plants? 

“What room will you be meeting in?” 

“We, will be meeting in the old observatory in the abandoned astrology building. Do you know the one?” 

“Yeah. I need a few guys to help me set the place up if I’m to do this.” 

Silco raised an eyebrow. “Interesting request, but I’ll grant it. I don’t want to know what you do, the less I know the better. So whatever it is you need, you have it. You need not ask.”  With that, he tapped the briefcase and went back to whatever he was writing on those papers of his. You swear, some days it seemed like Silco did more paperwork than he did crime. 

‘Alright. Take a few guys, handful of plants, and just get the place ready. Nothing too hard.’ All you needed to do was take them to your shop and load up the plants. You wanted them to feel relaxed, so a few lilac’s would do the trick. Maybe some Jasmine? You groaned. You never bothered learning about proper flower placement, focusing more on keeping your plants healthy and alive for your customers. Maybe you should’ve bought that book about weddings and flowers, but you thought it would be stupid to buy a book about weddings if no one ever properly got married down here. 

Regardless, you had taken a few men and brought them to the shop, having them carry the heavier plants that couldn’t be removed from their pots until you got to the observatory, otherwise they might die of shock.They loaded up all the plants into the two trucks and drove over to the observatory. 

It was a mess, Overrun by nature and obviously raided by bandits and such, it was a mess. You groaned and gave the order to start cleaning. It could’ve been a one and done thing, but of course, things were never that simple. 

It took about an hour and a half to get everything cleaned up before you could finally start the careful process of giving the plants a new, temporary home. You pulled out your notebook and dotted down the date you were replanting them. You could come back for them in a few weeks after the plants weren’t so stressed from the first move. 

You glanced around at the observatory. It actually looked really pretty. With time and money, this place could be turned into a pretty good plant nursery. You glanced down at your pocket where you kept emergency cash.

 You didn’t like dipping into your savings. Ever since the Enforcers had burned down your flower shop the first time, you felt the need to always have money in case it ever happened again. Plus, with your Dad’s need for shimmer because of his lung cancer, money wasn’t something you could easily throw around. Somehow the destructive product had healing properties, but in order to actually be able to help your father, it required a professional to apply it in order for it to stabilize his lungs. The product had to be applied to the inside of his lungs. At first, you didn’t hire anyone. If it needed to be in his lungs, then maybe the humidifier you used for work would be better. So a few days later you’d manage to vaporize the shimmer and distribute it using your humidifier. But when you tried it on your father, whatever was inside his lungs acted like a filter, keeping both fresh air and the shimmer out. This forced you to hire that professional, and was the main reason there was a huge dent in your paycheck every month. Your mother had tried to get a job, but she was already far too worn out to properly do anything in the underground. At least, anything that would’ve helped to pay for the medical treatments. You absentmindedly reached into your pocket to trace the lucky dollar coin you’d found a long time ago. If you truly wanted this, you’d have to figure out a smarter way to do it. 

You glanced over at the men that Silco had sent over your way. Anything you needed, he had said, was available to you. Obviously, you couldn’t just ask for the lease to the observatory. The only reason you were here was to make some huge statement in the middle of the meeting. Silco had a thing for making symbolic statements. You swear, he probably had some secret library full of books that had so much symbolism that you couldn’t get past the title without having to decipher its hidden meanings. Maybe you could convince him that it was necessary for you to have an observatory because it was symbolic of the mines or something? 

Or, you could convince him it was beneficial to his business. Silco was always looking for new investments, always looking to better his empire. It’s what made him such a good crime boss, never stagnant, always evolving. If you could convince him to give you a bigger place to house your plants– somewhere that would allow you to get him better, more diverse ingredients, maybe he would be willing to give you the observatory. 

Filled with a new determination, you finished the final touches and hopped into the truck, excited to get back. 

“...you just want it for your plants, don’t you?” 

He saw right through it. Fuck. 

“What? No. If I wanted it for my plants I would’ve just gone and bought it or something.” You huffed, crossing your arms stubbornly. 

“So you went to the observatory, saw the large space and the windows and thought that I could benefit?” He raised an eyebrow. “Sorry if I don’t exactly see how I, a drug dealer who deals in a chemically enginerered drug, could benefit from a plant house.” 

“It’s not a plant house it’s-!” You sighed and rubbed your face. You put your hands together. “Silco, sir. Look, I’ve got an entirely good reason why it’s good for the both of us.” 

Silco pinched the bridge of his nose and leaned back. 

There was a knock at the door. “Not now.” 

Sevika entered. “Silco, you have a meeting in–”

“Not. Now.” He said firmly. “Whatever it is, push it back.”

Sevika narrowed her eyes. “Push it back? We’ve been struggling to get this meeting for–”

“And to teach them a lesson in how valuable my time is, you will have them wait. Are we clear?” He looked up at her. Sevika growled but nodded. “Understood, sir.” She closed the door with a little too much force. 

You were suddenly anxious, feeling like you had just forced him to make some probably important people wait so that you could finish your barely thought out idea. 

“I can go. It’s no biggie, we don’t have to…” You trailed off as you saw his pointed look. The damage had been done. Now you need to see it through. 

You reached into your pocket and rubbed the coin again before speaking up. 

“Look I’m the best healer you have. Along with that, I’m the best toxicant you have. Albeit I’m the only toxicant you have, but compared to any old apothecary out there you know I can outdo them. I’ve done a lot around here, you know that. I’ve killed the people you wanted dead. I poisoned the people you wanted threatened. And I’ve healed you and the people you’ve asked me to heal. I even take care of Jinx when she’s having a manic episode and you’re not around to help ease her out of it! So on top of all that, I’ve also somehow become like a mother to that girl. God knows how much she needed one, but apparently decided she wouldn’t get one.”

You took a deep breath before continuing. 

“Yeah, I want that observatory for selfish reasons. But frankly what botanist wouldn’t? The windows would’ve been perfect if we had sun, but I can put lamps around that’ll act like the sun. Yeah if I crack open a window the air will damage some of the more sensitive plants, but I can repurpose some of the rooms into specific and climate controlled spaces for those kinds of plants. I mean, think of it like this. How many more poisonous and venomous and alleviating plants would you have access to if I could just get my hands on that building?”

You stared at his stoic face. “It would be a good investment.” You finished weakly. 

Silco let out a sigh and your heart sunk, feeling like you were about to get brutally denied. 

“And when would the renovations on this place be completed?” 

“Huh?” 

“The renovations. You said that you could make specific rooms for plants that need special care. I assume you’ll be needing a lot of materials in order to do that. If I supply you with the building and the tools to spruce it up, I expect great things of you. Do you understand?” 

You stared at the man for a moment, feeling blindsided by his sudden offer. He’d never done anything that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Where in the world was this coming from? 

“Do you understand?” He repeated himself. 

“Yeah! Yeah. I- I understand. I can get started on that as soon as I get the lease.” 

“I suggest you get started after the meeting is done. Getting the lease won’t be a problem.” 

Right. The meeting, you’d nearly forgotten about that. That was tomorrow. He would get you the lease by tomorrow? Wow. Perks of being a crime lord, meant that you had a much easier time getting things. Especially when you were the crime lord. 

For now, it was time for you to go home and finish making the smog for tomorrow, and then plan out what you were going to do in your new nursery.

—

Time couldn’t go by any faster. You’d sat through the boring meeting. Well, boring until it's gotten interesting. You smelled the familiar fog, tensing slightly. You were standing behind Silco. You quietly cleared your throat to let him know that the smoke was already becoming noticeable. Sevika took notice and turned around, subtly putting on her gas mask. 

“We should cut a deal and give back the Gemstone.” 

“Better to have some trade than none at all.” Finn added. 

Silco waved his hand. “The border issue is temporary. Jinx will deal with it.” He was about to go on to change the conversation when Finn interrupted him with a laugh, the clicking of his gold jaw sharp. 

“Rumor is, your dog’s off her leash.” He grinned, peering down at Silco, as if trying to make him feel small. You could see the irritation in Silco’s tense frame. He tapped his finger on the desk and you reached into your pocket and pressed the red button in your hand, increasing the intensity of the humidifiers surrounding the room. 

“How can you bring Piltover to heel if you can’t even handle your own people? Huh? Much less that crazed mess you call your–” 

Fin was cut off by a cough. He cleared his throat. “That crazed–” This time, he was subdued by an even worse cough. The others at the table seemed confused before they were all suddenly overwhelmed by their own coughing fits. “What is that?!” “What’s going on?!” 

Silco tapped the table again before standing up. The red smoke began to fill up the room even more. If you raised the intensity any higher, you’d have to put on a mask yourself. 

“You don’t recognize it? Truly, you haven’t the slightest idea what it is?” Silco asked, as he walked around the table, looking at each of the victims with a gleam in his eyes. 

“Oh come now, we were born of this. We came, from this.” He let out a disappointed sigh, as if they were children who couldn’t answer a question in class. “The mines they had us in. Air so thick it clogged your throat. If you stayed in there too long, you’d feel it. Clumps of that sludge slowly making it’s way into your lungs.” 

You winced, mind falling back to your father at home, probably struggling to breathe through it.

“Stuck in your eyes. Blinking the dust out that would get in no matter what.But I pulled you all up from the depths.” He leaned down into the face of another one of the leaders who was clutching at their throat. He gently tilted their chair backwards until he let go and let them fall to the floor. 

“Offered you a taste of topside. The bottle at the bar you could only ever dream of being able to afford a glass of. I gave you fresh air to fill your dirty lungs. I gave you life. A purpose.”

Silco stopped as he reached the other end of the table where Finn sat. “But you’ve grown fat and complacent. Too much time in the sun.” 

Silco was always one for dramatics. But you couldn’t help but admit, he knew how to send a message. You  watched him toy with the other leaders for a while before eventually giving you the signal to shut off the humidifiers. You reached into your pocket and shut it off before collecting the four you had hidden around the room and following him out. 

“Flair for the dramatics much?” You asked, following close behind him. 

“Some lessons are best learnt the hard way. They won’t be doing this again.” 

“What was it they did?” 

“They don’t want to fight for the cause anymore.” Silco sighed. “I’ve spoiled them rotten. I wanted to show them what they could have if they fought, so I showed them what it would be like to live a life like topside. But instead they drank themselves drunk and stupidly believed the world was theirs.” He narrowed his eyes. “Now, they won’t make that mistake again. If I have to instill the fear back into them myself, I will.” He growled. 

You stared at him for a while. Was he always this… no. No. That would be crazy. You shook your head and continued to follow. He seemed tense, too tense. Almost like Jinx before she had one of her episodes. You took a deep breath. 

“So I was thinking about giving you an elephant plant for your office. It gets real stuffy in there.” 

“You want to give me a plant for my office? I think I’d kill it.” He mused. 

“Obviously. You’d probably overwater it or something. Or let Jinx put some spray paint on it.” You scoffed, remembering the time you left a plant out in the open and jinx painted a smiley face on it’s leaf. You had then gone and swiped out all her paints for empty cans in retaliation. The little ‘prank’ war had continued for a while until you’d nearly gotten her to dye her hair yellow, and she surrendered. Now she only painted on the flower pots instead of the actual plant. Progress. 

“Mm. I suppose a plant would be alright to keep in the office. You’d give it to me? I don’t have to buy you some old, run down building or bribe you with a suitcase of money?” 

“Nope. Entirely free. Think of it like an expression of my gratitude.” You grinned. 

“Does this gift come with you?” 

You froze and coughed, as if you had accidentally set off the humidifier and breathed in the smoke. He stopped walking, looking at you as if you were the one saying something absolutely insane. 

“I- I- what???” You quickly ran to catch up to him. 

“I said, does it come with you? If I’m to receive a plant, I’d like my professional botanist to be the one taking care of it. As you said, I’d probably overwater it.” He said, as if he hadn’t said anything out of pocket at all. 

Your face burned red, trying to come up with a response. Sarcasm? Truth? Insult? Silence? All three? 

“Yeah well, the only reason you keep me around is for me to sell you plants and heal people so…”

“That’s not the only reason I keep you around.” 

“Lemme guess, cause I take care of Jinx?” 

“Because I like having you around. You… brighten the place up a bit. Like a plant I suppose.” 

You froze once again, but this time he didn’t wait for you. 

‘He likes having you around? You were  a headache. It didn’t make sense. Silco  kept you around yeah, but that was because you were the best toxicant in Zaun. You’d often have him tell you that the moment he found someone who was half as good as you and half the headache, he’d trade you in a moment's notice. You had only scoffed and finished applying the salve to his face, knowing he was only saying that because he had a distaste for having the thick medicinal cream on his face. 

Other times he had gotten complaints about you and had gone to see what the fuss was about, and walked in on you yelling at his men about being stupid. You had turned to him, turned back to the men, and continued yelling at them. Silco had sighed, muttered about how he was going to inject nothing but pure shimmer into his veins, and left. You swear, you would probably be the reason he got a shimmer addiction. 

At least, you would’ve been. Had he not dropped this sudden bomb on you. 

“I mean seriously. What kind of guy just drops that on a girl??? Huh??? Honestly!” You grumbled, roughly grabbing the watering can and spilling water all over the floor. You cursed and reached for a rag, throwing it down onto the puddle before moving back to the plants. “Y’know what he said? I’ll tell you what he said. He likes having me around. Me. Me! What the actual–” 

“Uhm. Excuse me, are you.. Talking to the plants?” 

You whirled around to see someone standing a few feet away. You were about to tear into them about minding their own business when you realized that was probably a customer. You quickly slapped on a smile. “Hello hello hello! Welcome to Zaun’s highest rated apothecary where our thumbs are as green as our plants.” You winced at the corny slogan your Dad had come up with. You never bothered to figure out a better one. “What kind of plant are you in the market for today?” 

“Not really looking for anything specific. Just something nice. I  saw this purple one in the front. Looked kinda like a dandelion.”

“Oh the Allium? Very good plant, especially for down here. Those girls are tough. They can grow in most soil as long as you drain it well, they’re rodent resistant, which is good for the pests that people like to keep, and they really like the sun. So if you have a lamp anywhere, I’d make sure to put her around there.” 

The person nodded. “So.. easy to take care of?” 

“Yep. For the most part, you just have to water it. They’re tough plants. If you ever have any issues you can always bring her back and I’ll take a look at it.” 

“I’ll take one.”

“The plant or just the flower?” 

“The plant please.” 

“Okay, wait by the register, I’ll bring one out from the back.” You went to the back, going through the array of flower beds before picking up a white Allium from its potted home and bringing it out to the register. “Name?” 

“Diana.” 

“Okay Diana,” You wrote it down on the list. “You want the basic care package?” 

“Uhm. How much extra will that be?” 

“Three silver cogs and seven bronze washers.” 

“Oh, then yeah I’ll take it.” 

You nodded and reached under the counter for the small tote bag, setting it up on the counter. “Your total will be ten silver cogs, or one gold hexes if you have one.” Diana set the money on the counter and slung the tote bag over her shoulder before carefully lifting the potted plant. “Have a good one.” You called as she left. You turned back to the plants. “Where was I..? Oh. Right. Watering the burdock root.” You sighed and walked back into the front of the shop, picking up the watering can where you left it. 

“He’s gone mad, I swear. Jinx’ madness has finally gotten to him.” You muttered. “And he think’s he can just get away with it! No. Not on my watch.” You said firmly. 

“Tch. Thinking he can get away with messing with me. Not in this life.” 

��

“What was I thinking?” Silco groaned, rubbing his face. Sevika let out a chuckle, sharpening her arm blade. “I don’t believe you were thinking.” She replied. Silco gave her a half hearted glare. “Thanks for that astute observation. I never would’ve come to the conclusion.”

“You can be pretty thickheaded.” She snickered. 

“I am not thickheaded.” 

“You are.” 

“Name one time.” 

“Last valentines day you got her flowers.” 

“It’s not strange to give flowers on Valentines.” 

“She’s a florist. She could’ve grown herself a garden of those.”

“...that was a momentary lapse in judgement. I learned, and the year after I got her some exotic seeds from some distant land.” He waved his hand.

“Uh huh. And then that time she nearly got stabbed on a mission and you bought her an entirely new mission wardrobe?” 

“I expect my workers to be properly dressed based on the needs of the mission. Having her get stabbed again would only hinder the mission.” 

“And it just so happened to fit her, and not be some kind of eyesore?” 

“If I were going to get her something to wear I was going to make sure she didn’t look like it was purchased in Zinny’s Zappy Outfits.” Silco scoffed, opening his desk to look for a paper. He set it down on his desk and started writing. 

“Face it. You like having her around more than you’d like to admit. Way, more than you’d like to admit.” 

“She’s an annoyance.” 

“Yet where is she the majority of the time she’s here? Glued to your side, by your orders.” Sevika grinned. “Just be grateful that Jinx hasn’t caught on. You two would be set up on a date faster than you could even say tea party.” 

Silco groaned. “Do not remind me of the tea party incident.” 

“Hey, you’ve gotta admit, the girls got a knack for kidnapping. She hasn’t been caught ever since.” 

“Because she stopped.” 

“...”

“Because she stopped.” Silco said again, narrowing his eyes. 

“Sure. If that’ll help you sleep at night.” 

“Get out.” 

Sevika raised her hand in surrender, walking over to the door. “Oh and by the way, tomorrow you have a meeting with the construction workers for that observatory you bought her.” 

“What time?” 

“Two.” 

“Alright, thank you Sevila. Dismissed.”

“I cannot believe you bought her a whole–”

“Dismissed!” 

—

Your mother always told you that you had beautiful eyes. She said they were one of your prettiest attributes.  Silco also seemed to think so. 

The man made eye contact often. Today, you’d make sure he couldn’t hold eye contact with you for longer than a few seconds. 

Today as you walked into work, you’d already gotten a few looks. The shirt you wore underneath the soft leather jacket was low cut. Showing just enough to be eye catching, but not enough to give away everything. That red little piece was a contrast to the usual earthy tones you’d wear. 

Instead of heading for your office in the medbay like you usually would, you went straight to Silcos office. You had a few things you wanted to run by him for the plant nursery. He was the one footing the bill after all, he had some kind of say in what went down. 

You walked in, making sure the files covered your chest. “I’ve got a few ideas for the nursery but I couldn’t decide which ones I should use. Think you can help me?” You asked innocently. 

Silco looked up at you before looking back down at his desk. “I can spare a few moments.” He gestured to the desk. You walked over and dropped the files on the desk. 

Silco looked up and you had to bite back a grin as you watched his eyes drift down before snapping up to meet your eyes. Step one, complete. What was step two? You had no fucking clue. 

“So I was thinking about different kinds of air conditioners.” You flipped open to the first page. “But then I dripped into the humidifiers and of course once you do that there’s the dehumidifiers and I mean seriously, how many  ‘fiers’ are there?” You sighed, and put your hands down on the desk, leaning over to look at the pictures. 

Silco rubbed his face, faking annoyance. “I regret saying I’ll help you. I’m no architect or home designer.”

“Yet here we are.” 

You started to prattle off about the different things you wanted. You knew you had him hooked when he didn’t even catch you repeating yourself. You adjusted your collar and he looked away, grabbing a photo and feigning interest in it. You weren’t about to let him get away with it that quickly. 

“Ah, looking at the air cubes? What do you think of those?” 

“What? Oh. These… colorful things.” Silco glanced at the pile of papers. “Uh, quite expensive. Are they worth it?”

“I think so. They have reservoirs for nutrient rich water, brain buckets that send water to each bucket so I don’t have to, and it’s self draining. Personally I like doing it myself, keeps me busy.” 

You watched him start to tune you out.

“And then there’s a super charger that sends plant food and makes the plants basically invincible for like four seconds. The sunflowers produce more sun for the other plants, the peashooters shoot a lot more peas. About a hundred or so.” 

“Mhm. Sounds like a good investment.” 

“Yeah but the zombies are always banging on my door trying to eat my brains and all.”

Yeah. You were shameless. 

Fiddling with the button on your shirt and ‘accidentally’ letting it slip. Instantly, whatever part of him was paying attention was gone.Were all men like this? Flash them a little bit of skin and they were drooling dogs? You didn’t entirely mind. Not when this glass of fine wine was the one on the other end of the leash. Just how much more could you take this? Your eyes drifted down to his belt, and you decided you wanted all of it. You looked outside to the barely cracked open door and made a motion for the man stationed outside to lock it and leave. The moment the door shut you looked back at Silco. “Your face is red. Are you feeling warm?” You reached a hand over and pressed it to his forehead. “Is it the eye?” You were so obvious with how you were faking innocence. But he didn’t seem to notice. 

“Ah- no. I believe it’s quite warm in here.”

“Yeah, yeah. I noticed that too.” You let your hand linger before subtly letting it glide down his face before you took your jacket off and set it down on the chair behind you. You slowly walked over to his side of the desk. “So, give me your thoughts so far.” 

“I’m not sure I have any at the moment.” He watched as you sat down on his chest, finally looking up to meet your eyes. 

“Try.” You slowly moved your left leg up onto his chair, placing it on his lap. His hand slowly moved, wrapping around your ankle. “I’m thinking about… you.” His hand slowly moved underneath the dark, flared jeans you wore. His rough hand trailed up your soft skin, feeling the rough patches of your scars. 

“Yeah? What about me are you thinking about?” You tilted your head, a small smile on your face. “I can’t imagine its about anything I came to talk to you about. You were far too distracted for that.” 

Silco chuckled, moving his hand out of your jeans and holding onto your knee. “You’ve got that right.” He slowly moved up your thigh, squeezing the flesh there before rubbing up and down the sides. “I was thinking about that damn red of yours.” 

“You noticed the red top?” You teased. 

“How could I not notice that damn red top?” He let a bated breath slip out of his mouth, reaching up his hand for your belt. He paused and looked up at you. 

“Eager, are we?” 

“If you knew how long I’ve been waiting for an opportunity such as this,” His fingers unclasped your belt with a practiced motion. “You’d realize just how patient I truly am.” You lifted yourself up so that he could pull your jeans down. He discarded them onto the floor next to his chair. You’d find them later. 

Rather than continue from where he was at, Silco seemed content to start over from the beginning. He scooted his chair back and grabbed your right leg by the ankle. “I’ve ignored you for so long. I won’t be neglecting any part of you, any longer.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your foot. His hands slowly began to massage your foot, working their way up to your ankle. He leaned down to kiss you again, this time moving up above your ankle. His hands would trail up and down your skin while he kissed you over and over again. His lips were soft, not rough like you’d expected them to be. You’ve seen him put on foundation on his scars, it wasn’t too far off for him to wear chapstick as well. 

Momentarily distracted, you hadn’t noticed that Silco had made it all the way up to your thigh until you felt teeth on your inner thigh. The feeling sent a sudden shock up your spine and you shuddered, leaning back on your hands for a moment. Silco didn’t stop, continuing to press kisses on your inner thigh. Occasionally he’d nip at the flesh there, as if taunting the idea of leaving a mark on you. He nuzzled his face into your thigh before slowly looking up at you. You couldn’t help but try and memorize the sight. This man. A feared, and respected man. Had suddenly become so pliant with you. As if you had somehow quelled the beast that drove him on this vendetta against Piltover. 

He moved his chair closer. His hands rested on your thighs, slowly trailing up and finding the lacy waistband of your underwear. He slowly dragged it down, but rather than just throw it elsewhere, he took the time to actually set it down atop the pile where your jeans were. 

You, suddenly self conscious, had tried to close your legs. Silco’s hands grabbed onto your knees. “Don’t hide from me, darling. I want to see every part of you. No matter how much you’d rather hide these…” He traced one of your scars. “Imperfections of yours.” 

He leaned down and kissed your thigh again. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He whispered. “I would never judge you.” 

He slowly pulled your legs apart, and you felt exposed. More exposed than you’d ever been in your life. The air in the office, despite its warmth, still sent shivers down your spine when it met the heat that had coiled in your lower regions. His hands rested on your hips as he leaned in. The moment you felt his mouth on you, you had to shut your eyes and collect the thoughts that instantly scattered. A guttural moan left your mouth, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of pleasure. His hands moved down to spread your legs further apart before he started to really get a taste of you. His tongue set out to trace every dip and fold, finding your sensitive spot and then feeling the area around it as if to map you out. He would occasionally switch up his technique, switching from merely lapping at you to drawing out little patterns with the tip of his tongue. Try as you might, you couldn’t keep yourself quiet. His fingers, the sneaky little bastards, had already joined in on the torment without you realizing. While his tongue worked to gently circle around, but never touch your clit, his fingers had already started to test out how tight you were. He let out a hum, seemingly pleased with what he was learning. You barely registered the vibrations, already teetering over the edge of an orgasm. Your legs trembled. You could feel it building as you twitched on his desk. When you felt a second finger– or was that a third? You couldn’t tell. It was hard to focus on both his fingers and his tongue when both were doing so much to keep you from forming a singular, coherent thought. 

You let out a moan, legs instinctively shutting, regardless of the man you had just trapped between them. If he was saying something, you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. You kept your legs shut, starting to regulate your breathing when he suddenly started moving again. Regardless of the lack of oxygen, it seemed like Silco had taken it upon himself to finish what he had started. Which left you squirming around as all the sudden pleasure reached its peak, and you came crashing down. Your grip on him trembled and you finally released him. He had the mind to stand and move a few things off his desk so that he could lay you down. 

It was then that you saw the mess left on his face. Silco looked down at you before reaching up to feel his cheek. He chuckled and drew his fingers to his mouth. “You’re lucky I don’t mind the mess you’ve just made of my office.” He had started to wipe the remnants off his face as he spoke. “If this continues to happen, I’ll have to get the carpet replaced. At one point, even the desk. All of these, small prices to pay.” He pushed your shirt up to feel your stomach. His hands moved to squeeze and grab at your flesh, almost like a cat kneading a blanket. 

“I’d like you to wear things like this more often.” He reached up and pulled the shirt up to expose your bra. “Of course, if you did, I wouldn’t be able to get any work done.” He reached up and toyed with the fabric, feeling you up through the padding. “I’m not entirely complaining. You are the welcomed distraction in my chaotic world.” 

He looked down at you from where you had remained sprawled out on his desk. “You’ve been oddly quiet. Well, aside from your moaning and all.” 

You stared up at him. You didn’t really have much to say. What were you supposed to say? ‘Thanks for eating me out?’ ‘Hey, you’re surprisingly good with your tongue?’ Every retort that came to your mind was either sarcastic, or some version of a joke. But what ended up coming out of your mouth, turned out to be the very thing that had been on your mind for a while. 

“Do you like me?” 

Silco blinked, having expected some kind of dirty retort instead. 

“Do I like you?” 

“Yes. Do you like me romantically?” You emphasized the word romantically, not wanting him to escape this one. “And don’t use some kind of metaphorical bullshit on me. I want the honest truth. Not some philosophy quote, not your vague little one liners. I want the cold, hard truth.” 

“Nothing about the way I feel about you is cold.” He reached up to run his fingers through your hair. “I do, in fact, like you. I’ve liked you for quite some time now. I like you, romantically. I like you in the sense that I’d like to be with you, as your partner. I like you in the sense that I’d like you to be by my side. I like you in the sense that, God willing, I’d like to grow old with you.” 

“You mean older than you already are.” You said before you could stop yourself. 

He sighed. “Yes, older than I already am. Cheeky brat.” 

You giggled, pulling him down for a quick kiss. You’d rather he brushed his teeth before trying to kiss you after what he’s just done. 

“And you? Do you like me?” Silco asked, raising an eyebrow. 

“Well I thought that was obvious by now. You think I’d wear something like this for anyone? Work the hours I do?”

“I thought I paid you well.” 

“You do.”  

“Yet you complain about the hours?” 

“Shush you. I’m trying to have a little romantic moment here and you’re kinda ruining it.” 

“My apologies. Continue.” 

“As I was saying,” You huffed. “I’ve done a lot of things I wouldn’t normally do. Just to get your attention. It’s kinda stupid of me. I told myself I’d never do anything stupid for a man. Yet here I am.”

“I don’t–” 

“Let me finish.” You gave him a pointed look and he nodded, falling silent. 

“I like you, Silco. Romantically.” You paused and took a breath. “I want to be your partner. I want to be by your side. And I want to be there with you when you’ve achieved this dream of yours, and we get to live somewhere that doesn’t have break ins on a regular basis, or steal or kill or have to do anything like that to survive.” 

It was a quiet few moments before you finally asked the question. “So, will you be my partner?” 

“I’d be honored.” 

Hello, authors note here. I capped this at 8,409 words. Decided to keep the smut focused on you because it felt in character for Silco to prioritize you over himself. But trust, if anonymous requests a part two or smth I will make sure that he gets taken care of. I took my time with this one cause I wanted to do some plant research. Didn't research it too intently because this is just a drabble, but enough to get a few details. Anyways hope you enjoyed. Requests are still open. Here's my feeble attempt at tagging before I pass the hell out, feel free to add any tags you think should be added.

[medusapelagia]

One. Big. Step.

written for @steddiemicrofic (Prompt: one | 1111 words) and @steddie-week (Day 2, Prompt: Touch Starved) Rating: Teen and Up Relationship: Steve/Eddie TW: none Words: 1111

The anticipation is what makes Eddie antsy. 

When someone starts to walk toward him, his heart starts beating faster and louder, his ears buzz, his breathing gets too accelerated (air hunger, as his mom used to call it), and he begins to sweat, profusely, leaving a dark damp stain under the armpit of his t-shirts, which is the main reason he always wears black t-shirts. Or t-shirts with black sleeves. 

When the person walking toward him is Steve the Hair Harrington, well, it's even worse. 

Eddie's tongue gets entangled in his mouth and when he's finally able to speak a few words, the ones that come from his mouth are either stupid or cruel. But even if Eddie hates himself for that, in some ways it works perfectly well because Steve freezes, a sad smile painted on his face, and mutters, "I'll see you around, Munson," before turning and leaving Eddie alone, which is exactly what he wants. Because Eddie the banished has only one big fear: being touched. 

It's a fear that comes from afar and even if Eddie is ashamed of it, it’s not something Eddie will overcome easily. 

In his entire life touch meant hurt. Every time Al Munson came home drunk, every time a policeman caught him stealing some food, every time a teacher dragged him to the principal office, their touch meant hurt. And pain. And blood.

Those people left a wound in Eddie’s soul; a wound he’s not sure it will ever heal.

It doesn't help that the only person he trusts is not very outgoing either.

Wayne never hurt him, but never tried to touch him either.

And now he’s untouchable.  

None in the Hellfire Club dares to hug him, not even Gareth, who has been his best friend since they were kids. To be honest, Gareth is his shield, the best one he could have ever asked for. He's the one who detects Eddie's anxiety and puts himself between the threat and his best friend and in Eddie’s opinion, that’s fucking metal. 

It doesn't matter if most of the time the threat is just a girl asking for a pen during English class or a boy getting too close to Eddie in the cafeteria. Gareth is there, ready to lend a pen or step between Eddie and the rest of the world.

Gareth is the person who knows Eddie intimately. He knows about his past, that he deals to make ends meet, and that there's a kind spirit hidden under the metal jewelry and the fake attitude. What Gareth doesn't know, it's that even if Eddie is scared of touch, he has finally met someone who makes him feel butterflies in his stomach and almost makes him wish for things he never thought were possible for him, like holding hands or even kissing. And that person is Steve Harrington.

Eddie knows that there's something between the two of them, a kind of opposite attraction they both feel, but how can he surrender to the pull he feels when even the idea of getting close to Steve makes him shit his pants?

"Maybe you should start gradually." Gareth wisely proposes when Eddie finally confesses his tribulation to him, "Choose someone you trust and ask him to touch you or something like that."

"Wouldn't that be weird? Like… Hi, can you hold my hand for a moment? Don't worry if I freak out, it's a normal reaction."

"You could start with Wayne." Gareth replies, gulping down his soda in the hot Indiana summer, "He knows you're weird."

"Why didn't I think of that? Hi Wayne, can you hug me? Yeah, I'm weird and I'm also gay and I need some physical contact before I try to hold hands with my crush. Very subtle and not suspicious at all. He won't kick me out of the trailer. No sir."

Gareth sighs, slouching on Eddie's broken couch, "You know he wouldn't. He had so many reasons to kick you out and he never did, but if you don't want to ask him, I get it. What if I volunteer?" Gareth asks, reaching out with one arm.

He gives Eddie the time to stop him or move away, but the metalhead swallows all his fears and gives him a little nod.

The contact between Gareth's calluses hand and Eddie's elbow it's not pleasurable, but it doesn't make him jump out of his skin either.

"You ok?"

Eddie nods, quietly, focusing on the feeling and identifying every single sensation. The warmth of Gareth's skin, the roughness of his hand, the steadiness of his arm. Eddie closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths, and then he whispers, "Stop."

Gareth immediately releases his soft grip, his eyes pinned on Eddie, "Still ok?"

"Yeah. I got a bit overwhelmed." Eddie confesses, turning his attention towards a dog barking a few feet away. Noticing Eddie's attention the dog starts to pull at the chain even harder barking in his direction and Eddie wonders why a barking dog is less scary than a friendly touch.

"We could do a little exposure therapy if you want. Here at the trailer, where you're more comfortable and none can see us.”

With a snort, complaining in a low voice that exposure therapy seems even more complicated than dealing in a small town like Hawkins, Eddie begrudgingly agrees to do a few cuddling sessions, as Gareth mockingly calls them, every day after band practice.

Maybe it's not a lot, but sitting close to each other on the same bench, or brushing their fingers while sharing a joint seems to be really helping, and after a couple of months, when Dustin invites them to see a movie at Steve's place, for the first time Eddie seats on the couch, not on the bean bag as usual. Dustin stares at him open-mouthed, but a stern look from Gareth is all it takes to get his attention back on the screen.

When Steve gets back with a couple of bowls of popcorn, the only empty seat is the couch where Eddie is already making himself comfortable, putting his feet on the coffee table while yelling something against the movie director.

Turning toward Steve, Eddie simply asks "Aren't you going to sit?"

Steve gives the biggest bowl to Dustin and puts the small one in the middle of the couch, to keep some space between them, and when their fingers brush above the popcorn bowl and Eddie doesn't retreat, Steve gives him the best smile ever.

Maybe sitting on the same couch watching a movie with the kids isn't the most romantic thing ever, but it's a step. One. Big. Step.

permanent taglist: @katyawriteswhump

[stompedchild]

my brain's been thinking about certain realmers as magical girls recently, so i'm presenting my losa+tina x pretty cure au! i was inspired to make this when i saw this art by @melmokk3 !! maybe i'll make a madoka au as well but i wanted to make something more lighthearted and silly before anything else. what pretty cure is and what the au is are explained below the cut :3

okay so to quickly summarize what pretty cure/precure is, it's a magical girl series! there's currently 22 seasons and there's usually a different cast for each one. the story normally goes: a fairy's kingdom has been attacked by evil, they find the legendary pretty cures, they defeat the monsters of the week, and in the end good wins!! my au isn't based around any season in particular but instead i'm pulling from a lot of the common tropes/general tone and from what the spinoff seasons full bloom and mirai days are doing, which is working with aged up versions of the main casts.

as for the au itself-

the au focuses on ros, tina, sneeg, and clown. they're all adults in our modern world, living in a city... somewhere. they've got jobs, they're trying to make rent, and despite everything life could be worse! on one fateful day, coworkers ros and tina are window shopping when they encounter foolish! i don't have a solid vision for his design but i'm thinking he'd be like candy and pop from smile precure/glitter force. he's the fairy and therefore helper to the cures. he gives the two the rundown of how he got into this mess: he was the grand ruler of the kingdom of fools, until the malicious badgers attacked and destroyed the kingdom for the sake of causing chaos. now he's on the hunt for the legendary pretty cure warriors to save his kingdom, and their world, from destruction. shortly after they'd get attacked by pangi, and ros would become the first cure out of 4

after ros becomes a cure, she'd deal with a couple of fights with pangi with the occasional bbh sighting! she and tina would then be introduced to clown, who would become the second cure and the then strongest of the bunch. clown becoming a cure would also coincide with mocha/pili being introduced as a villain. sneeg would hear about all of the monsters running amok in the city his buddy ros lives in, so on the day he goes to check-in on her, the first attack orchestrated by the triple threat happens, and sneeg would become the third cure. if/when tina becomes a cure at all it would be much later down the line, probably closer to whatever explanation i can give the war in this au. in the meantime though, i have agendas to push so qpr losa and rostina yuri would be happening and are the relationship endgames.

i don't have solid designs in my head as of yet, but i've got a theme and some general color schemes/ideas. i'm still working on just picturing some stuff such as what they're using to transform/use their finishing attacks, as well as just fleshing out what happens between/during everyone becoming magical girls. seeing as the cures are fighting for the sake of the kingdom of fools though, why not theme them around a circus and circus positions?

ros would be Cure Ringleader, the head of the team, quickest of the bunch, and a purple cure. clown would be either Cure Jester or Cure Clown, he'd be a red cure, the best skill-wise, and he'd have a fire-based finisher. i'm still conflicted on sneeg's cure name but for now he's Cure Trapeze. he's a blue cure who can fly, and has a lightning finisher. lastly there's tina who's Cure Magician. she's a pink cure and the strongest magic-wise. i dont have the best vision of her finisher but i think somehow it'd involve a magician's hat. the losa would have a trio attack as well as duo attacks for each pairing. tina and ros would have a duo attack, and the 4 combined would have some crazy finisher that i'd imagine would put whatever they're fighting through a circus or something (thinking about the you&idol finishers as inspiration for the 4 cure attack, where whatever they're fighting literally gets teleported to a circus).

that's most of my put-together thoughts on this au for now. not sure if i will ever post any art but i might post more words abt this later. i'm still working on it and i'll probably also wind up with that madoka au at some point :3

[sixeyescurseuser]

Teachers Satosugu

Thinking about adults Satosugu who become Jujutsu Tech teachers together. They’re married too. In their late 20s, they’ve found sweet domestic bliss in the dangerous yet meaningful life they’ve created for themselves. 

Geto still makes sure to praise Gojo for all the work he does; often surprising Gojo with his favorite sweets or a trip down to the street vendors, saying: “Thank you for your hard work, Satoru” and “Come on, let’s eat something special, you deserve it.”

Gojo still goes on his one hour rants about topics that fascinate him, and Geto listens without complaining. Even if this is the third time digimon has been brought up this week. 

Geto stays at the school to teach for the majority of the time. He only takes missions if they are emergencies and avoids interacting with the higher ups. Thankfully, Gojo is more than willing to deal with that side of work. 

While Geto is involved in both physical training and classroom lessons, he’s more hands-on with the latter. Compared to the Kyoto students, let’s just say that the Tokyo students don’t put in a ton of effort when it comes to their academic scores. 

Geto is fated to be the hardworking but disappointed teacher. 

(Geto: “Nobara, Yuji, c’mon, I am begging you two to study more.)

The thing with Yuji is that he is smart in that he can memorize things and write well, but not being exposed to the sorcerer world from a young age has put him really behind. 

(Geto: “Hasn’t Satoru told you all about Sukuna’s origins and what not? Given you books from the library?”

Yuji: “Oh the library! I forgot that existed!”

Geto: …

Yuji: “Also no, Gojo-sensei didn’t tell me anything yet.”

Geto: 💀💀)

Additionally, Gojo isn’t the best when it comes to structured lessons in the classroom. He’d much rather skip over the boring stuff and show his students the real excitement out on the field.

This is where Tokyo students surpass Kyoto students in fighting abilities. Plus, getting lots of first-hand experience of what sorcerers actually deal with helps them quickly adapt to situations and strategize how to outwit their opponent. 

But book-smart-wise? Megumi carries. 

Once, Yaga gave the first years a firm reprimanding because of the missing past three mission reports. (Excluding Megumi.) Turns out, Gojo didn’t inform the first years about filling out mission reports at all. 

That night, Geto scolds the shit out of Gojo. 

Gojo: “Hey Suguru, isn't that your job? I just help them train their fighting skills, no?”

Geto pinches Gojo’s side - who lets out an undignified yelp - even though he knows Gojo is just joking. Besides, Gojo does try to teach the rules better after Geto’s scolding. Gojo just needs reminders, that’s all.

It doesn’t help that Gojo is literally a prodigy and always does things his own way. 

(Geto, shaking his head: “Lord knows these kids need all the help they can get with you as their teacher.”

Gojo: [jaw open, betrayed]

Cue Gojo decisively turning the other away in their bed. 

Geto: “Oh, did I upset the baby?”

Gojo: “Worse. You upset your husband.”

Geto guffaws.

“My husband can take it.” Geto moves so he’s spooning Gojo.  “Isn’t that right?”

Geto’s breath tickles Gojo’s ear, making Gojo shiver.

What were they talking about again?)

***

Gojo might be busy as hell but Geto will be there to protect their students from the higher ups. 

That mission where Yuji died for a short while after switching with Sukuna to face that special grade? It would never have gotten that bad. Geto would’ve been with his students and protected them.

Geto is anxious to the point where he designates certain curses for specific people, mostly to look after his students. This way, he can be there if his students are in serious danger, preventing more young sorcerers from dying due to the higher ups' negligence.

Of course, Geto’s rainbow dragon has always been assigned to Gojo. 

Gojo will often take Yuji on rides on the rainbow dragon, either for missions or just to be up in the air. When this happens, Geto’s orders for the rainbow dragon consist of: “Only listen to Satoru’s reasonable orders” and “Protect Yuji from Satoru’s recklessness.” 

On another note, Geto’s curses would have intercepted before Todo and Mai could beat the shit out of Nobara and Megumi. Geto himself would show up quickly after, furious when he sees the Kyoto students trying to take out his students. 

(Geto with his murderous glare: “As far as I know, the competition hasn’t started yet. No one should be picking fights with each other, hmm?”

Mai and Todo, quietly: “Of course, Geto-san. We’ll be taking our leave.”

Geto stays standing in front of Nobara and Megumi until the Kyoto students leave.)

Even as teachers, Geto and Gojo are incredibly competitive with Kyoto. Of course they’re going to talk shit during the goodwill exchange event. They’ll watch the broadcast of the competition and loudly cheer their students on. They’ll also whisper to each other in the most obnoxious way. 

Utahime is about to bust her blood vessels. She still throws her tea at Gojo when he makes a snarky comment that pisses her off; the tea bounces off of Gojo’s infinity and splashes all over Geto, who groans. 

Well, that shut the pair up for now. 

***

When Nobara spilled coffee on Gojo’s shirt, Geto had been the one to catch them first. 

(Shaking his head, Geto says: “You guys really did it this time…”

Nobara: “We could just replace it??”

Megumi: “It is 250,000 yen.”

Geto: “It's also Satoru’s favorite white shirt.” He pats Nobara’s shoulder comfortingly.

Yuji: “Geto-sensei, please help us!”

Geto: “And spend the precious money I earned with my own hard work? I don't know, Yuji-kun, I gain nothing from helping you.”

Nobara: “He’s your husband”

Geto: “And he’s your sensei.” He turns to Megumi. “Slash father”

Megumi: 😩😩

Moments later, Gojo enters the room: “Iijichi-kun said you guys have my newly laundered shirt-“

He sees Megumi with two breast bumps.

Gojo: ??

The others laugh as Nobara pulls out the stained shirt, causing Gojo to let out the most horrified, dramatic gasp. 

All the students find it hilarious, but Geto laughs the hardest. He's bent over, hands on his knees, straight up cackling. When Geto somewhat catches his breath, one look at Gojo’s stricken face sends him into another fit of laughter. 

(They are so married.)

Geto walks over and slings himself over Gojo. 

Geto: “It’s okay, Satoru, you can just get another one.”

Gojo: “That was my favorite one, you know this, Suguru~~”

Geto: “Satoru...you’re rich-“

Gojo: “My clothes are important, they aren’t so easily replaceable. Imagine if I had tried to replace you-“

Geto: “Did you just compare me to your inanimate white shirt?”

Geto begins to pull back, but Gojo immediately latches on to him.

Gojo: “Noooo, I didn’t mean it. I love you~~”

They proceed to act out a mini-drama, which ends in Geto leaving with faux-disappointment and Gojo chasing after him.

Consequently, Gojo forgets about his stained-beyond-repair 250,000 yen shirt.

***

When formation B occurs in response to Megumi being “hit on,” Geto watches from afar, disappointment deep in his veins. 

We’re too old for this, he thinks when Gojo reveals Megumi has to master twinkle twinkle little star. 

Having had enough, Geto steps in and tugs Gojo away. 

“Baby, come here, you forgot to take your pills this morning,” Geto says. Gojo gasps in offense. 

“SUGURU, SHUT UP! I'M NOT MENTALLY ILL!“ Gojo cries, but now there’s no way he doesn't look crazy.

Geto has his arms wrapped around Gojo’s waist while Gojo flails to escape. 

“Satoru, stay STILL- NO you are not going back!”

They end up making a bigger scene. Megumi wants to d-word. 

(“With this treasure i summon-“)

Gojo doesn’t care who hears or sees, and is now screeching for Geto to let him go. Left with no other choice, Geto bites Gojo’s shoulder. He also tries to shove his fist in Gojo’s mouth - anything to shut him up.

Geto is going all out like they’re teenagers again. 

(Nobara at Geto: “YEAH GET HIS ASS!”)

Geto eventually becomes aware of the small crowd that has gathered and rethinks his actions. He ends up dragging Gojo by his collar. 

“Ok, we’re leaving,” Geto calls to their students, leaving no room for argument. Megumi immediately follows, dragging Yuji and Nobara in tow.

***

w/ @no-one-says-hi

[yuyu1024]

6yrs

Pairings: Yunho × y/n

Genre/tags: lovers to strangers

Warning: pet names, cursing, cheating

~~~ [lmk if i miss anything]

Words: 1.3k

Disclaimers:

- this story is just made up

- english is not my first language, please be nice 😊

A/N: i am in my down moments lately... and i want to write something a bit sad randomly

Hope you all have a wonderful day. 🖤

------------------------------------------------

6yrs. You and Yunho have been together for that long already. From college to now as adults. He is your first in everything. He is your guy, your comfort and your safezone. He is the man you always have dreamed of.

He is perfect and He's yours.

However, these past few months have been very... off for you. Well, both of you. And you know why.

A few months ago, after you guys celebrated your 6th year anniversary together, Yunho got a call from his supervisor that he is a candidate for a promotion. That his boss is rooting for him and for sure know that after a few more deliberation with the rest of the team, you will get it.

Both of you were so ecstatic. You even jumped like a kid on a trampoline after hearing his news. Coz you know how hard working and passionate your man is with his job. You know he deserves it.

It will have its pros and cons being promoted especially when it comes to time with you or whatever. But it does not matter coz you know it is his for him and it will make him happy career wise. And you know Yunho will do a good job balancing his life and work.

But then just more than a month after he got the position, it suddenly went south.

Yunho have been going home late two to three times a week. Which is not bad coz its not everyday and too extreme. However, whenever he goes home now you feel the distance building between you two. It felt like he has been coming home to you and expecting to just pick his coat and bag on the floor, make sure he eats and then let him rest.

He have gotten so cold and quiet.

You tried talking to him during his off days. Wanting to suggest to go on a date or hang out somewhere, have fun, play games, watch a movie or something. But he either rejects you because he is tired or if he agrees, it feels so forced.

What happened? You were so lost. Unsure what to do or say. But being the girlfriend, you always made sure he feels loved and taken care off. Because you also thought that he might be just having this transition in his life because of a new environment at work.

You believed that this shall pass.

But as months go by... it gotten worse.

It came to a point that you two feels like two strangera living together. That the 6yrs of being boyfriend-girlfriend was suddenly felt like nothing.

***

"You think.... it's better... that I move out?" You blurt while starting at your plate during breakfast.

Yunho pauses and slowly raise his gaze to you. "What?" He is stunned by your sudden question.

Still looking at your plate whilst poking your food you add, "Because... I feel like... I'm not needed here anymore..." then you eyes lifts up to look at him. "Nor wanted by you anymore..."

He probably stopped breathing for a second but after processing what you said, "Y/N..."

You snort an irritated laugh. "Shocker. You still know my name..." you mumble.

"I'm sorry...." he answers lowering his head. "I'm caught up so much work that I..."

"Just work?" You ask, going back to staring while poking your food.

His head snaps back up, brows rippled. "What do you mean by that?"

"I'm not dumb." You softly say before letting go of the fork then proceed to putting your legs up your chair and  then hugging your knees. "I know... I know everything...." your voice breaks at the end.

An important detail why something is off between the two of you this past few months is that, Yunho, cheating. A woman from his work. His teammate.

You caught him one time, as you were coming home late after having a drink or two with your friends, when you saw him walking with the woman. They are not drunk. They are casually walking together, laughing and acting like they are on a date.

At first you told yourself that they are just friends. That maybe Yunho is just being respectful to the elder girl, who is obviously into him, that he cannot just publicly embarass her to tell her to move away. But then, as you follow them even more just around corner of the next building, you see them making out.

It's not just her making moves to him. Yunho was actually kissing her back. He was kissing her the way he kisses you. 💔

"You know what hurts too...?" You begin , "is that I was standing there.... obviously and in plain sight... but you weren't able to see me... or notice that someone is watching..." you wipe the first tear that roll down on your cheek. "You were to focus on her... so... taken by her..."

"Y/N..." tears starts to build up in his eyes. "I'm sorry..."

"No your not." You say, trying to hold on a bit more to not actually break apart in front of him. "Coz if you really loved me, you would not...you would not ever...."

You fail. You can't stop yourself from crying now. You cover your face as you sob and loudly whine as you express all the pain you have been keeping in for the past months.

It hurts. So painful. And yet the man in front of you can't and won't even defend himself or try to talk.

It felt like he just confessed through his silence that he did and is cheating. And probably will not stop seeing her.

"Why?" You ask. "Am I not enough? Not successful enough...? Ugly?" You take a deep breath in, "Do I not satisfy you in bed anymore? What... w-hat did I do? What made you do it? Why? Why now?"

He becomes silent.

"For fuck sakes, Yunho! Six years! We've beem together for six years and this is what I get? I know I'm not perfect but... God!" You cry it out more, facing him away. You are crying so much that you can barely breathe now and you eyes are blood shot red.

"Y/N..." he stands up and tries to reach out to help you to breathe but you move away quickly.

You stand up and jerk away from him.

"Please..."

"Please what?" You look at him, with sad yet fiercing eyes. "Stay? Why? So you can have someone to act like your 'girlfriend' when your other woman is not around to please you?"

"I... I love you." He mumbles, "please..."

"You don't." You wipe the rest of the tears off your cheek. "You stopped loving me the second you cheated. You are just keeping me around because you are used to having me around. You are just saying you love me because you need me."

"I'm sorry...." Yunho goes down to his knees and begs. "Please don't go.... I... No... I made a mistake... I... she helped me get through all the troubles at work and... it just..."

"You confided with her and not with me? As your girlfriend?"

"I know it's wrong... but... I didn't want to burden you with my own problems..."

"And look what it caused."

"Please...." Yunho crawls closer to you and hugs you by the waist. "I'm sorry... I will stop... I already told her I can't do it... I just... had to tell her to..."

"Yeah... I think it's better if I move out..." you peel him off you. "I don't think I can do it any longer..."

He is crying, looking at you. "Babe, please."

"I'm sorry." You say as you then pull out the promise ring he gave you from your first anniversary.

[chocodile]

Art Summary doohickey for 2024!

Another year down, and... well, more of the same, honestly. The description on my 2023 art summary could be copy pasted here verbatim with no changes, except replacing the line "challenged where my life priorities were in a positive way" with "challenged where my life priorities were in a bad way".

2024 was a rough year life-wise. A lot of the art I made this year--especially during the back half--wasn't something I was able to plan and take my time with. Most of the illustrations were done in kind of a frenzy because I realized I had a small block of free time and knew if I didn't finish it now then I wouldn't get to draw again for a week or two. There are a lot of pieces on here that I know could have been way better if I'd been able to take my time with them more, but I just didn't have time for it. Compromises had to be made.

One way in which I did "improve" over 2023 was that I did do more experimental and "trippy" work. Not as much as I'd like to, and not as polished as I'd like, but the frenzied "I must finish this tonight OR ELSE" rush so much of this year's stuff was created under did mean more artwork in a simple, jagged cartoony style, prioritizing being weird over being polished.

...Also, the number of bunny-related pieces on here has doubled to 6/12 and the number of pieces of him specifically smoking a cigar has also doubled. I think I honestly did draw more polished non-bunny pieces this year than last year, but the ones featuring him just tended to have a bit more of a spark to them. For better or worse, evil old fat rabbits bring out the best in me, creatively.

Uhh, let's see, next year... I want to do more polished stuff, more "trippy" stuff, and also take a break from leaning quite so hard on that CMYK Lisa Frank/bowling alley carpet color scheme.

[doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou]

Prophecies

Canis Minor (2)

> larissa weems x fem!reader

> requested? no!

> content/warnings: idk what the fuck this is so idk what warnings i should put 🤷🏻‍♀️

> a/n: literally a writer's random thought to another taylor swift song, anw here's the song. Guilty as Sin? tbh i don't know if the song connects to the story but who cares? oh, i do 😭

Drowning in the Blue Nile

She sent me 'Downtown Lights'

I hadn't heard it in a while

My boredom's bone deep

This cage was once just fine

Am I allowed to cry?

“In what universe did she ever say that to you?” Vlad, may the universe bless his nonexistent soul, asked you.

Meeting Vlad in your first year of teaching was not part of your itinerary in Nevermore, especially befriending the vampire. Yet, things just seemed so normal when you were with him. His straightforwardness stilled you to the ground, and your imagination led him to the stars. You'd assume it was a friendship between the skies themselves. But as time went by, you couldn’t help but feel irritated, as his memory seemed to fail him once more in your latest gossip discourse.

Scratching your nape, you turned to observe the plants sitting on your windowsill. “If my memory serves me right,” you hummed and gave Vlad a glance. “The other night?”

Rolling his eyes, Vlad took a swig of his bloody Mary. “You were with Marilyn the other night.” Lowering his drink to the table, he tsked before giving you a disapproving shake of his head. “I do not like this side of you.”

“That makes the two of us.”

I dream of cracking locks

Throwing my life to the wolves

Or the ocean rocks

Crashing into her tonight

She’s a paradox

I'm seeing visions, am I bad?

Or mad? Or wise?

“How long have you had forget-me-nots in the greenhouse, Mar?”

Marilyn hummed before looking at you and then at the flowers you now hold. “I’ve had them since I moved here.”

Frowning, you set the pot down and walked towards Marilyn. “I was there when you moved here, was I not?” Sitting on a chair next to her, you watched Marilyn weed her plants and toss them in the bin next to her.

Kneeling upright, Marilyn took a quick look at you before going to her desk. She took a picture frame and gave it to you before kneeling down to continue her work. Inside the frame was a picture of the faculty, with Marilyn and Larissa in the middle, you on Larissa’s left, and Vlad on yours. You traced the picture down to the date signed below it.

11/23/22

Nevermore Faculty

Holding the picture tight, you frowned as you jogged your memory to remember what happened that day. Yet, after minutes of trying, the only thing you got was a migraine. You groaned and went to Marilyn’s desk to return the frame to its rightful place. “Thank you, Mar. I’m afraid I have to go now.”

Watching you leave the greenhouse, Marilyn sighed. She didn’t know how to tell you. And she’s sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one telling you. Let Vlad or whoever else tell you, just not her. No, scratch that, not Vlad. There was only one person who would tell you. It needs to be that person. Not your friends. It needs to be her.

What if she's written 'mine' on my upper thigh?

Only in my mind?

One slip and falling back into the hedge maze

Oh, what a way to die

“It is getting worse, Marilyn!”

“We can’t tell her, Vlad, not us.”

Sighing, Marilyn watched as Vlad paced vigorously in her office. Although you were their friend, it was not their story to share with you. They couldn’t tell you the whole story without the other side. They couldn't let you hate her while she resents herself for allowing what happened to you to happen.

“The school will open in a few weeks, Mar. She cannot stay in that godforsaken office until then. We need someone to boss us around!” Marilyn understood where Vlad was coming from. In three weeks, the gates of Nevermore will be opened, and the principal has yet to come out of her office. Since the incident, Larissa has chosen to hide within her office. And as the days pass, one by one, the members of the faculty start to lose their minds. They do not know how to function without Larissa, the lone similarity all of them shared.

“She is punishing herself.” Groaning, Vlad opened his bottle of whiskey and took a swig.

“Vlad!” Marilyn hissed as the coach slumped beside her. “It is the middle of the day!”

“And? What is your point, dear friend?” With that, Marilyn slapped Vlad’s arm and left the office to tend the greenhouse.

I keep recalling things we never did

Messy top lip kiss

How I long for our trysts

Kicking down her office door was not part of the plan, to Marilyn, that is. But for Vlad? It was the first plan B he thought of if Larissa didn’t open the door for them as they knocked. “Larissa! There you are!”

Feeling for the light switch, Marilyn narrowed her eyes as she turned the light on. Only to find the office devoid of any life, apart from a rather emotionless Larissa. “Principal Weems, we apologize for kicking your office door open.” She slapped Vlad on the arm, earning her a scoff from the vampire. Giving Vlad a glare, she tilted her head toward Larissa.

“Ugh, fine.” Marilyn heard Vlad whisper, “I apologize for kicking your door open.” Strolling forward, Vlad sat in front of Larissa’s desk, making Marilyn shake her head in disapproval. “Unbelievable,” she whispered.

Tapping the desk to get Larissa’s attention, Vlad observed the woman before him. This wasn’t the same woman who hired him. That woman was fierce, and the woman in front of him was weak, lifeless, and emotionless. “Larissa, speak to us.” Vlad saw Marilyn join him in his peripheral vision and nodded towards the redhead.

“Please, Principal Weems.”

Turning to look at the two teachers before her, Larissa’s eyes turned glassy. Yet she blinked them away, not wanting her colleagues to see her so sensitive. “Yes, Coach Vlad? Marilyn?”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Letting out a chuckle, Larissa rolled her eyes. “Do not patronize me, Vlad.”

Frowning, Marilyn shook her head and took Larissa’s hand in hers. “It’s true. It wasn’t your fault, Larissa. None of it was. It was an incident beyond your control.” Marilyn tightened her hold on the blonde’s hand, desperately trying to let the blonde believe that what happened to you was not her fault.

“It was an incident only she could control,” Vlad added. This made Larissa turn her head toward him, her eyes asking what he meant.

“She,” Vlad gave Marilyn a look before continuing, “had visions of the incident happening, yet she did nothing to prevent it.”

“Why?”

“Visions come to her like prophecies, Larissa. Surely you know why they are called that?” Vlad asked his boss humorously. “Changing a prophecy would mean changing the course of someone’s future.” Shaking his head, Vlad stood up and went to the nearest window. Catching you teaching one of the faculty your tricks in archery, he let out a teary chuckle before turning to look at the women in the room.

“It would mean changing the course of your future, and she couldn’t do that to you. Not when she understands that in every future you have, she isn’t part of it.”

Without ever touching her skin

How can I be guilty as sin?

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Vampire Captures Vampire Hunter to Use as Bloodbag part 29

Warnings: aftermath of escape attempt, vampire carewhumper, recovery whump, blood drinking from the wrist, forced to clean blood off floors

Once he was satisfied, he carefully slid his fangs out, licking a few stray drops of blood that beaded from the puncture wounds before they healed over.

-------------------------------------------------------

Mallory shuddered in disgust as Alex healed his arm and pulled away, biting back a barbed remark -- knowing it had the potential to make this whole situation ten times worse.

He turned his face away from the vampire in shame, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the throbbing headache pounding in his skull. He needed to rest, and everything would be better when he woke up... right?

To his relief, Alex left him alone after the feeding, and he finally let himself relax a fraction -- though his guard never lowered. He wasn't sure what to think of Alex's changed demeanor, if the bloodsucker's sudden kindness was fake or genuine. Maybe he was truly trying to make life better for him, for some odd reason. But he didn't have long to ponder before exhaustion swept him away into the realm of deep sleep.

-------------------------------------------------------

Two days later and the fever was gone. But it wasn't quite a relief, because the instant Mallory was able to consistently walk on his own without assistance Alex was dragging him out of the bed and toward the front of the mansion.

The hunter didn't dare ask questions, stumbling after the vampire who was almost dragging him by the arm. His stomach flipped when he stopped in front of several dark red spots on the floor and walls.

It was dried blood. Mallory's blood, from almost a week ago now.

"Anisa said humans like to do things that keep them busy," Alex explained, "so you're going to earn your stay. You can do chores around my mansion, starting with cleaning up the mess you made earlier." He gestured to where a mop and pail of water were already waiting.

"I'm pretty sure Anisa meant hobbies," Mallory retorted dryly. "Hobbies are what humans like to do to stay busy. Not working themselves raw when they aren't even fully recovered yet from a vicious vampire attack."

Alex shrugged. "I'll clarify that with her later. For now, clean that up. And don't try to run. Every door is locked, and I'll hear you if you take one step out of this room before you're finished. Clear?"

"Clear as mud," Mallory muttered under his breath. "It's your fault there's blood on the floor in the first place..." He wisely shut his mouth at the dangerous warning look the vampire cut him.

"All right," he relented. "I'll do your stupid chores, as long as you leave me alone." It wasn't like he had a choice, anyway, if he wanted to avoid another serious beating.

"Good." Alex nodded approvingly, then breezed out of the room and left him to his work.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy @floral-comet-whump

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @nevermore-ramblings

[cosmic-vacuum]

Introduction.

Heard someone online say this— "The right DIRECTION is actually more important than HARD WORK itself."

The first step to "working smart" is also stepping in the right direction.

Hard work directed towards unproductive and degenerative activities is equivalent to stalemate in the specific field if not further degradation.

HOW SO, DO WE STEP IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION?

Step 1: Have a talk with yourself about what you really wish to do.

My talks before starting this usually ended up in tears.

I've been failing in life altogether for over two years now and all the cumulative criticism combined with regrets and embarrassments fueled defense mechanisms and avoidance techniques to develop inside me.

The talk was obviously hard, but finally I've opened myself to opinion and change recently— this in itself is the greatest change a human being can have.

It wasn't easy, of course.

I was supposed to fight down my own behaviour and impulsive reflexes to understand words and opinions of the other people around me whilst not being swayed completely by them or even rejecting them completely.

This is one of those things easier said than done.

It was talking to myself more that led to this.

The only person who can reach the inner voice of your consciousness is you. This voice is the most truthful and genuine guide you can find, only, you must know to separate it from words materialised by intrusive thoughts.

Sit with yourself, talk to yourself, ask yourself what you want to do.

It may take a while, but you will surely get response when you try to connect to your inner self.

Step 2: Get into what you wish to accomplish— know more.

Reasearch about your goal. We can't start into something we barely know about.

2024 is a great year to live in but only for the seekers.

You'll find everything you need to know about anything online today, all you need to have is the desire to see.

This is the first step to "Smart Work" too.

[Smart work: works only when applied with hard work. It's not the other way around— you can not replace hard work by smart work]

We will be revisiting this several times in times ahead so don't worry if there are unanswered questions [you can always comment or dm them to me].

Step 3: This is probably the TRUEST of all advise I've heard growing up– You're the average of the five people you listen to everyday.

I have personally seen so many people change for the worse on having bad company surrounding them.

It's easier for people yo pick up bad behaviours rather than good ones so no matter how selfish it would make you feel, cross out bad influences from your life

If you happen to be someone mostly at home and in presence of parents or siblings (like me), try to make firstly, your pwn mind your best companion. When there's problems, talk about it to your own self.

It's magical, trust me.

This takes time to get a hang of but it's magical.

Other than that, fill your ears with podcasts or perhaps you tube videos of people who are wise and/or related to your specific goal.

[I will be sharing a list of thr best podcasts to hear for personal growth later in a separate post.]

Step 4: Have a proper plan.

How you spend your minutes, hours, days, months and therefore the years becomes how you ultimately spend your life.

A— Take either a calendar or just draw out the months which compose your selected "two month" time.

B— Write your goal on a piece of paper and formulate a monthly procedure to achieve it.

If this goal is some sort of skill development for example, divide the procedure into the two months and then further down to weeks. Then, divide the workload per day of the week.

This is also applicable for students preparing for some or the other sort of examination or are just studying in general.

C— People who wish to upgrade their personalities will be part of a more active process which will run alongside the daily log posts.

WHAT NEXT?

Once we've got all we wish to change outlined, we can step into finally starting the process.

This turned out to be longer than I expected so I'll keep it till here. Anything else we need to do will follow in the following posts.

If we wish, we can.

[check out the blog to join the journey]