#excited to show you all what's been working on

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Merry Christmas, Baby

Summary: You're not sure what to get Javi for Christmas, until he gives you an idea for a gift you can't put under the tree

Word Count: 3.3K (I wrote this in two hours, the thots do be thotin)

Paring: Husband!Javi x Wife!reader

Warnings: SMUT (18+) unprotected p in v sex (whoops), breeding kink (I'll say it once and I'll say it again, you KNOW this man deserves 17 kids) vaginal fingering, creampie (big time), family planning, Javi gets so excited about the idea of another baby he literally can't control himself, terrible, sexual Christmas puns, cute and sweet Christmas fluff bc I love this family more than life and you know they give their kids the most magical Christmases 🥺

A/N: I'll take Javier Peña with a big fat breeding kink for a thousand, please!!! I was feeling in a writing rut, until I read @notjustjavierpena Husband Javi Christmas fic last night, and lord have MERCY, consider me inspired 🫡 I'll never shut up about the fact that this man wants a football team, and every Christmas will ask to put another baby in you as his only Christmas gift BYEEEEEEE I need to be institutionalized at this point sorry this is poorly beta'd, it's me, I'm allergic to editing!!!

Forever and Always Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

“Javier Peña, there has to be something you want for Christmas.” 

“As long as all my girls are happy, that’s all I want.” 

“Unfortunately, I can’t wrap your sappy sentiment, Javi.” 

There was nothing more that you enjoyed than showering Javi with gifts for the holidays. There were few people on earth you could imagine being more deserving than your husband- you’d find a way to wrap the moon and top it with a bow, if that’s what he wanted. Unfortunately for you, Javi was so sweet, it made buying gifts for him nearly impossible, considering there was rarely ever a tangible item on his wishlist. 

“I don’t need anything, baby.” Javi smiled, reaching for the roll of bright pink and sparkly wrapping paper in front of him to start covering the new Barbie Dream House Lucy had been begging for all year long. “Toss me the tape.” 

“Well obviously I have things for you, but I always wanna make sure I’m getting you things that you want.” You sighed, gently throwing the roll of Scotch tape you had been using over the pile of gifts between you and Javi you were working on wrapping while your daughters were asleep. 

After six Christmases under your belts, you and Javi had learned from the one grave mistake of waiting until Christmas Eve to wrap all your daughter’s presents, now taking a few nights before the big day to wrap and assemble any gifts being left under the tree for your own sanity. 

Now that your girls, Lucy, Elliot and Harper, were six, four and two, it made Christmas even more magical, knowing that they were beginning to understand the concept of what the holiday meant, and all the joyous anticipation that led up to the 25th of December. 

It also meant that there were a lot more presents to wrap- 1, because Lucy and Elliot knew that they could ask for gifts they wanted, and 2, because Javi would say he’d be done buying presents and then show up the next day after work with another toy for his girls. 

“Honey, you get great gifts, for me, but especially for the girls, too. Fuck, I forgot this needs batteries…” Javi mumbled to himself, carefully undoing the wrapping paper he had started working on, “You make a very good Santa.” 

“I think the girls like your version of Santa better, since that’s how they end up with double the gifts under the tree.” You giggled, playfully rolling your eyes at Javi before reaching for the next toy in the pile, “I’m being serious, Javi. I love spoiling those girls just as much as you, but you also deserve to be spoiled too, ya know.” 

“You’re my wife, gave me three beautiful daughters, and tolerate me on a daily basis. Baby, that’s plenty fucking spoiled, if you ask me.” Javi grinned, giving you a reassuring nod and little shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re much more than tolerable, you goof.” You laughed, cheeks pink at the warmth of your husband’s words, never failing to make you melt a little more each day. “Will you please just tell me one thing you want? Then I’ll let it go, I promise.” 

Javi sat quietly for a moment, fiddling with the edges of the wrapping paper he was working on before a boyish smile began to creep into the corners of his cheeks. 

“Uh oh.” You laughed to yourself, immediately recognizing the goofy grin Javi was trying to contain, “What is it, Peña?” 

“You’re not gonna like it.” Javi snickered to himself, raising an eyebrow at you. 

“Jav, if it’s another dog, I told you, when the girls are older and-” 

“No, it’s not another dog.” He smirked, still softly laughing to himself as you tilted your head at him in confusion, trying to piece together what kind of gift Javi would want that would take any convincing from you, crossing your arms over your chest as you attempted to decipher the devious splayed across his face. 

It only took about two seconds and that look to figure out what Javi was in the market for.  

“Javi…” You sighed, your tone jokingly stern. 

“Osita?” He responded back, trying to downplay his giddiness now that you had figured out his gift suggestion. 

“Javi, four kids is a lot of kids. One more, and they’re doubling us in ranks.” 

You had always been on the fence about having a fourth baby. Not because you didn’t love having kids, or that you didn’t think you couldn’t handle it, mentally or financially, but because your brain worked in logistics- adding one more member to your family was getting you to the point where you’d have so many kids, you wouldn’t even all fit in Javi’s truck anymore, unless someone got demoted to the trunk, which, in all honesty, you were sure Elliot wouldn’t mind. 

For Javi, on the other hand, there was no need to worry about logistics- the two of you would figure it out sooner or later. The only logistics he was worried about was instigating the baby making process.  

“You asked what I wanted!” Javi replied, chuckling as he held his hands up in defense, “I think I’ve been a very good boy all year, if you ask me.” 

“What you’re asking for is definitely putting you on the naughty list.” You huffed, trying to distract yourself with finishing wrapping the present you were working on to hide the fact you were genuinely considering Javi’s present suggestion. “You really think we can handle four kids, Jav?” 

It took everything in you not to laugh at the way Javi instantly perked up when your first response to his gift idea wasn’t rejection, eyeing you up and down and gently biting down on his lower lip. 

“Mhmmm.” He nodded, slowly making his way around the pile of presents to scooch closer to you, “I’ll take care of everything, mi amor. You, the girls, the baby, I can ask for less hours at work so I can help around here, whatever you want, you know I’ll give it to you.” 

“You really want this baby, huh?” You giggled, smirking at Javi as he crawled next to you, hungry look in his eyes while he began to cage his body over yours, carefully laying you down on the floor beneath him. 

“Fuck, I wanna knock you up again so bad. You’re so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant.” Javi groaned, planking overtop you, his hot breath dancing across your skin in between his soft nips at your pulse point. “Let me fuck another baby into you, Osita. Please.” 

Any inhibitions you would have had in protest had completely flown out the window, arousal soaking the fabric of your underwear as Javi kissed up your neck and across your collarbone, softly palming at your breasts under one of his old sweatshirts you had thrown on. 

Truth be told, you and Javi had talked about baby number four enough that you were already leaning towards saying 'yes' anyways, but that wouldn’t stop you from having a little fun in seeing how badly Javi really wanted the Christmas gift he was asking you for. 

“Tell me how badly you want it, Javi. Tell me how much you wanna fuck another baby into me.” You devilishly whispered into his ear, smiling to yourself at the pathetic groan that rumbled from his chest in response. 

“Fuck me-” Javi moaned, hands feverishly groping your body, “Fuck, I want it so bad, quierda. Wanna fill you up ‘till it has no choice but to fucking take, fuck this pussy so full of me, let everyone know who it belongs to, watching you carry our baby. Please, Osita.” 

It was a good thing you were already prepared to be easily swayed, because even if you weren’t, listening to the way Javi was begging to put another baby in you would have easily been enough. 

“Okay. Merry Christmas, Papí.” 

Your green light was all Javi needed to spark something completely feral in him, practically ripping your clothes off you in the middle of the living room, sprawled out on the carpet. 

“Javi, we can go upstairs and-” 

“No. Fuck, I need to fuck you right now, just like this.” He grunted, shedding his clothes before his hand was cupping over your underwear, jaw going slack at how absolutely soaked the fabric was under the pads of his fingers. “Apparently you do too, huh, Momma? She’s so wet for me, isn’t she? Pretty pussy wants me to fill her up so bad.” 

Your stomach churned in arousal as Javi ripped your panties down your legs, revealing the puffy, glistening mess beneath. Javi had barely touched you, and you could already feel the way you’re dripping, admittedly just as turned on as him at the idea of letting him add another addition to your family. 

“Christ, baby.” Javi muttered, settling between your legs. Letting his hands run up the insides of your thighs, he took his thumbs and slid them between your folds, spreading you open to get a full view of the way your slick was coating your cunt. “Making a fucking mess for me already.” 

“I think I’m ovulating soon.” You sigh, doing some quick math in your head, trying to account for just how worked up you were, Javi’s eyes so going wide at the realization, you were worried they may just pop out of his skull. 

“Oh, fuck me.” Javi groaned, shaking his head in disbelief at his luck, “You’re right, Merry fuckin’ Christmas to me then.” 

Swirling the pads of his fingers against your clit, your back arched against the floor at the shockwaves the pleasure sent through your body, making you gasp so loud, you were worried you risked a real possibility of waking up your daughters. 

“F-Fuck, Javi-” You whimpered, already bucking your bottom half towards him as he sunk his two fingers into your cunt while the heel of his palm rubbed deliciously against your clit. Reaching up, your grasp wrapped around Javi’s bicep, muscles flexing with each pulse of his fingers as you left half-crescent moons in his skin. 

It took everything in you not to scream as a third finger joined the first two, stretching you out as he bumped against your g-spot, tension already beginning to build in your core. A sudden gasp escaped your chest, surprised by the newfound emptiness that had you clenching around nothing, looking up to see Javi reaching down to wrap his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before lining it up with your entrance. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I need to fucking feel you, baby. Swear you’ve got me feeling like I’m about to bust like a fucking teenager.” Javi grunted, running his tip against your clit and down your cunt, collecting your arousal before thrusting himself inside you, filling you to the brim with every inch of him. 

Unless you were desperately pressed for time, Javi normally had a bare bones minimum of pulling at least one orgasm out of you before he fucked you, but seeing how worked up and needy he was to feel you wrapped around him, it was about as close to an orgasm you could get withtout actually having one. 

“Oh fuck, Javi!” you whined, feeling the tip of his head kiss your cervix as he began to thrust in and out of you, feeling dizzy from his fullness. You could tell he was trying to hold himself together, his hips slamming into you in deep, slow thrusts, breath hitching in the back of your throat every time he buries himself deeper inside you. 

“Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight. Fuck, I can’t wait to fill her up, give you every last fucking drop. Taking me so fucking well.” Javi moaned through gritted teeth, already scrunching his face in concentration through his pussy drunk babbling.  

Running his hands up the back of your thighs, Javi pushed your knees to your chest, pinning your legs in place against your stomach to stretch you out even further, letting him sink himself even deeper to hit the spot he knew drove you just as crazy as it drove him. 

Despite how lost in pleasure the two of you were, Javi was at least conscious enough to realize how loud you had gotten, quickly reaching up cup your mouth, catching your muffled moans in the palm of his hand. 

“I know, hermosa. Fuck, I love hearing you, but we gotta keep quiet enough, baby.” Javi huffed, snaking the hand covering your mouth between your bodies, circling at your clit, almost as if he was putting you through some sort of cruel test to see how far he could push you before he had you screaming at the top of your lungs. 

“Fuck- fuck, I know. You feel so good, Javi.” You whined, hand pressed against his bare chest, his warmth and weight pinning your body below him. 

You feel the way Javi’s thrusts become quicker and harsher, filling himself as deep as he could as your cunt began to clench around his length, sucking him in with your warmth and wetness. Your eyes had been scrunched, so lost in your own pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed the nearly pained look on Javi’s face, furrowing his brow in deep concentration with each slap of his hips against yours. 

“You okay, Javi?” You asked, panting out each word as he pounded into you, circling your clit faster and faster as his grip tightened around your thighs, trying to keep himself grounded. 

“Yeah, I- Fuck- fuck me, I’m trying so hard not to finish before you do. Pussy feels so fucking good. Wanna cum so fucking deep inside you.” Javi moaned, the rhythm of his hips already starting to falter thinking about his endgame. 

If you weren’t so lost in your own ecstasy, you probably would have giggled at Javi’s admission, giving him shit about how he couldn’t hold it together for even just a few minutes, knowing he could finally try to get you pregnant again. But right now, you’re just shocked you can even get any words to form coherent thoughts to string together, let alone tease him. 

“Put a baby in me, Javi. Fuck, want you to cum so deep inside me, please, baby.” 

You could barely finish the whimpers of your sentence before Javi’s pace became sloppy and erratic, hips stuttering before his jaw went slack, letting a low, long groan escape from his chest. 

“Oh, f-fuck-” Javi stammered, flushing his hips against yours as you felt his warm spend coat your walls, pressed so deep inside you, you were convinced it’d have no choice but to stick, in a few weeks finding out baby number four would be on the way. 

Javi’s chest rose and fell, looking down at the way your bodies melted together beneath him, igniting something primal in him to see the mix of your arousal seeping around where the two of you met. His eyes darkened, looking down at you with a feral sort of smirk, not even giving you the chance to speak before his lips were crashing into yours again, hips slowly thrusting while his fingers rubbed at your sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“J-Javi, what are you-” You muttered, cut off by the messy dancing of tongues and teeth in your mouths. 

“I’m not done yet, Momma. Not until I fuck myself so deep in there we know it fucking takes. Wanna keep you stuffed so fucking full of me.” Javi grunted, rubbing your clit faster at the way he could feel the walls of your pussy starting to flutter around him, determined to make sure he wasn’t the only one who finished. “Cum for me, baby. I know you’re close. Can feel how tight she’s getting for me.” 

You knew just as well as he did that the tingle that had been building at the base of your spine had slowly begun to flow to every inch of your body, building up through your legs and into your core, clenching down harder and harder around Javi’s cock, knowing there was no doubt the mess between your legs was surley just as wet as it sounded as he slid in and out of you. 

“Oh fuck, Javi, oh fuck- fuck, fuckfuckfuck- ah!” 

It didn't take long before your orgasm crashed through you, lighting up every inch of you in radiating pleasure, your cunt clamping down so hard around Javi’s cock, it made him let out a strangled gasp as he choked out curses under his breath. 

“Jesus, fuck. Gonna squeeze every last fucking drop outta me, huh? My greedy fuckin’ girl.” Javi smirked, planting a soft kiss on your lips before he slumped on top of you, your chests rising and falling as one as you finished coming down from your high. 

The two of you laid there for a moment, catching your breaths and basking in bliss before Javi was pulling out of you with a hiss, one hand wrapped around his softening cock, the other scooping up the mix of your spend pooling between your legs before it dripped to the floor, carefully pushing it back inside you. 

“Fuck,” Javi laughed to himself quietly, sitting back on his haunches, admiring the slick, shiny mess your pussy had become, “Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I came that hard.” 

“Looks like Christmas came early this year… and so did you.” You giggled, making Javi roll his eyes, playfully shaking one of the legs still pressed to your chest. 

“Shut up.” He sighed, shaking his head at you before laying back down beside you, shifting so that his chest was pressed to your back, spooning you in his grasp. “Gotta make sure Santa’s not the only thing coming down the chimney this year.” 

“Jesus Christ, Javi.” You can’t help but snort, ashamed of how easily amused you are by his stupid puns. 

“What? You let me get my gift early, least I can do is stuff your stocking for you.” 

“Oh my god, you are the worst.” 

The two of you giggled, basking in your laughter as you laid together on the floor, only spurred on by the fact you realized how ridiculous it was that the two of you were completely naked in the middle of your living room, surrounded by a sea of wrapping paper and presents. 

“Speaking of stocking stuffers, we should finish wrapping the rest of these gifts we have out before we go to bed. At least some of these presents should be wrapped, because the one you just gave me was most definitely not.” You teased, craning your neck to pepper ticklish kisses across Javi’s jaw. 

“It’s the gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give it to you tomorrow too, if you let me.” Javi grinned, giving you a playful wink before pressing a kiss into your messy hair and patting your hip, reaching over you to grab the pile of clothes the two of you had left next to you. “Seriously though, thank you. You and our girls are the best gift I could ever have, but adding one more would make me so fucking happy. I love you, Osita.” 

“I love you too, Javi. You guys are the best gift I could ask for, too. Although, I will say, your gift also selfishly works in my favor, too. Some presents are just better unwrapped.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[willaminareads]

too busy

PARING: exhusband!drew x reader

SUMMARY: you and drew had been divorced for a little under a year now. while drew had your two kids this weekend, zach unfortunately let it slip, that mommy had a new "friend". drew was anything but thrilled.

WORD COUNT: 667 words

WARNINGS: possesive drew, angst, fluff, cursing, kids.

WILLA SPEAKS: hey! this is my first fic, on this blog, and i'm so excited!! please note that english is not my first language, so if any mistakes occur, i'm so sorry! enjoy<3

you stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it. you were a little nervous. you didn't exactly have a reason to be, but you were.

"y/n," drew says as he opens the door. "hi, baby, come in. the kids are in their playroom." he ushers you inside, hoping you didn't notice he let the nickname slip. old habits die hard.

you smile softly at the nickname but quickly stop once you notice. this is your ex. hell, not even just your ex—your ex-husband.

you follow him inside his new house. you liked it, though it did remind you of the house the two of you once shared.

"can i get you anything?" drew breaks the silence.

"you have tea?" you ask softly.

"the kettle is already on, sweetheart," he responds in the same soft tone. god, he knows me so well, you thought.

he finds a cup for you and starts preparing the tea. silence falls between you. it wasn't awkward per se, but not exactly pleasant either.

drew is the first to break the silence, still keeping all his attention on your tea. "zach says you've got a new friend." his tone is sharp, not at all soft like the one you'd heard just a couple of minutes ago.

a quiet "oh," was all you could muster up. you didn't know what to say. i mean, what could you say?

he turns his attention to you, handing you the cup of tea. "yeah, that was my reaction as well," he says bitterly.

you sigh. "come on, drew, don't do this." guilt written all over your face.

he lets out a dry laugh. "i didn't do shit, y/n."

"i'm allowed to move on, drew," you say softly, catching his gaze.

"the fuck you are," he sneers, placing his hands on the countertop. "i can't, so you don't get to either." his statement hangs in the air as you stare at each other.

you scoff. "no, you don't get to do this, drew. you fucked up. you didn't have time for us," you say, knowing how to hit him where it hurts.

"don't say that." he looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

"why not, drew? it's true," you state. "you were too busy with your big dreams, and, i mean, it worked out for you," you say, waving your arms slightly. "you have everything a man could want," you taunt.

"you know that's not true," he glares at you.

you shrug. "you can't have your cake and eat it too."

he scoffs at your comment. "right, okay. you're getting on my nerves, y/n," he bites. "you know how much i wanted to make this work. you know how much i love you—"

you cut him off. "loved."

"no, fuck that, and fuck you for saying it," he raises his voice at you. he doesn't do that often. "i'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. "you know that i still love you. i just want another chance, y/n. let me show you that we can make this work," he says softly, reaching for your hand.

you shake your head at him. "we can't put the kids through another divorce, drew," you say softly.

"we won't," he says. "come on, y/n. we can make this work."

you sigh. "drew..."

"please," he says, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

"there's no new guy." drew stares at you, a little confused, waiting for you to continue. "that friend zach says he saw me with?" drew nods along. "it was chase."

"chase? as in my co-star chase?" drew asks, utterly confused.

"yeah... he and maddie came by to help me build a dresser." you bite your lip, your nerves taking over your body.

"oh," he falls silent.

"drew?" you ask.

"so, no new guy?" he asks with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"no new guy." you confirm.

"so... do you wanna marry me again..?" he asks.

"drew!" you exclaim with laughter as you smack his arm.

[ailoda]

updated: 21.12.24

ᯓ★ mob!au

Run For Your Life (❤✘): he was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with. (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: stalking tendencies)

Passionfruit (❤✘): you spend a well deserved lazy day with your mafia husband and son… plus Bucky getting a little handsy. (@kurogxrix)

Look Don't Touch (❤): you accidentally walk onto your husband and his men during a meeting, clad in nothing else but a tight-fitting top and a baby in your arms. The sight is enough to send the many men drooling, but Bucky reminds them that you’re only his to look at, and will always be. (@kurogxrix)

The Alchemy (❤❅✘): about a decade ago you left your home and ran away, looking for a fresh start after having had your heart broken by the boy you loved. Now you’re back and turns out Bucky Barnes – the same man who once broke your heart – is adamant on tormenting you some more. But why? Why does he want you back at all cost when he was the one who once pushed you away and crushed your heart like it meant nothing to him? What secrets has he been keeping for almost a decade? Most importantly, what truly happened that night he broke your heart? (@sinner-as-saint) (warning: forced marriage/marriage of convenience, possessive behaviours)

4 Minutes (✘): you and Bucky had limited time to spend intimately during the past few days, leaving you both extremely sexually frustrated. When your son’s occupation offers you 4 minutes of free time, Bucky’s damn adamant on making your legs shake in less than 3. (@kurogxrix)

Protector (❤✧): ironically, the man with blood on his hands and a permanent target on his back was the one you’d never felt safer with. (@cherryrogers) (warning: mild violence, assault, stalking, mentions of illness, death)

Honey, There Is No Right Way (❤❅✘): when you agree to be the feared mobster Bucky Barnes’ sugar baby, you expect to get enough money to pay your bills. what you don’t expect is to fall head over heels for him. (@bonky-n-steeb)

A Love For The (P)ages (❤): Bucky might be the baddest mob boss in the city but he’s the softest and sweetest husband in the Universe. (@jobean12-blog)

Stealing Hearts (❤❅✘): his mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist. (@sinner-as-saint)

Come Home (❤✘): Bucky comes home to find you and your son asleep in your bed and his heart damn near explodes with how much he loves his family. And after putting your baby to sleep, Bucky proceeds to show you just how grateful he is to have you and how much he loves you… (@sinner-as-saint)

I Am Your Fall (❤❅✘): you’re hiding from your past, in Madripoor. You did nothing wrong, other than mix dangerous business with a lot of pleasure. You couldn’t go home because… he would find you, and Madripoor was the only place he didn’t do business, or had any allies or friends. But little did you know that the mob boss had finally found you, after obsessively looking for you ever since you left, and left him in pieces. He didn’t want revenge, he just wanted the one thing he had hopelessly fallen in love with; who also happened to be the one who had betrayed him and hurt him more than anyone or any bullet ever did before - you. (@sinner-as-saint)

Fallin' For Ya (❤): Bucky finds himself standing in front of your door with a bouquet of roses, wondering when he’s ever allowed his stone-cold mafia heart to fall in love with you. (@kurogxrix)

Yours To Wield (❤❅✘): with the enemy threatening to obliterate your family, you’re left with no choice but to take the hit just so he would spare your loved ones. Belonging to a mafia family requires sacrifices to be made at every step, and in order to save your family you make the ultimate one - you offer yourself up to the enemy. Bucky Barnes isn’t a man one negotiates with, he owns this city and whatever he says is considered law. But when you come to him with an irresistible offer, he bends his own rules for you. What starts out as an agreement becomes so much more, and the two of you find love where it wasn’t supposed to be. But rare are the love stories which don’t include some sort of war. (@sinner-as-saint)

new! Lover Boy (❅✘): it's the Bridgerton carriage scene, but make it mob!Bucky. (@cryptidcasanova)

new! Starting Over (❤❅): when Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending. (@sashaisready)

[vibelladonna]

✑ 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝓀𝓈 𝜗𝜚 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

Didn't expect me to write more about Sol, did you? Honestly, I needed to do more research into his character, after all, since I kinda ignored him in the game as soon as Crowe showed up. Like, no wonder he did what he thought he had to do.  

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions. 

I mixed a bit of canon and my headcanons for Crowe and Sol in this one—yep, once again! This time, I kept it focused on just four kinks to keep it short and sweet. I'm still learning about the BDSM community, and honestly, it's been really eye-opening.

A close friend (college roommate: adding on the fact she adores Sol—Sorry not sorry, love) of mine has been super helpful, sharing and explaining things about the BDSM scene to add more depth to my writing.

A lot of my inspiration comes from her, along with the Tumblr fanfic community and the original creator's work. I try to blend what feels true to the characters while throwing in my own twist. Hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Starting, I’ve noticed that TKATB fans have their unique preferences when it comes to Sol or Crowe.

For example, fans who gravitate toward Sol tend to enjoy the idea of him being dominant—whether it’s being in control of him or just envisioning him taking charge. It’s that mix of power and intensity that gets people excited. You know who you are, you freaks!

On the other hand, fans of Crowe are drawn to his reliability, his deep understanding, and his caring nature. He’s willing to guide you through anything, offering both emotional support and strength. It’s comforting, isn’t it? And yes, I’m a freak too—I get it.

✑ 𝒸𝓇𝑜𝓌𝑒

Naturally, I had to start with my man—Jericho, or Crowe, as he's known. He exudes a mysterious, almost savior-like presence, though the details are still unclear. I WANNA KNOW SO BAD.

His style is effortlessly sharp, and his quiet confidence makes him instantly trustworthy. Reliable, steady, and composed, Crowe is the perfect support when life feels overwhelming. His charm is subtle, blending good looks with an alluring personality—irresistible, without ever being flashy. 

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Crowe as kinky?

At first glance, no. Not. To a stranger, he’s too put together, with not even the faintest hint of anything unconventional beneath the surface. But as you get to know him, that answer begins to shift. Slowly, subtly, he reveals a side of himself that hints at complexity—an edge just beneath his polished exterior. However, don’t expect anything extreme or overtly wild.

What he does reveal is never too much but always just enough to leave you captivated—and maybe, just maybe, a little curious.

✑ Vanilla (Soft Dom…) 

For Crowe preferences! 

He's the ultimate soft, warm partner. Like, you just know he's all about the quiet, comforting vibes. No crazy power dynamics or rough kinks—he's all about that steady, affectionate love. It's Vanilla, but in the best way possible, full of layers. He’s not rushing anything, just enjoying the little things, taking his time, and making sure you feel heard and cherished. 

When you're with him, it's all slow and gentle—he’s not here for intense extremes. His love is patient, thoughtful, and wrapped in warmth. Every touch, every word, is like a soft caress, just so deliberate and tender. 

And honestly? There's no need for anything crazy. Crowe's happy to explore your connection, build that trust, and just savor the passion that grows naturally between you two. It's the kind of love that builds and lingers long after. 

Now… Crowe might be a soft dom—nah he IS A SOFT DOM.

Crowe’s not the type to push you past your limits just for the thrill of it. He’s not into playing mind games or testing how far he can take things. No, Crowe’s power is the quiet kind, the kind that makes you feel safe without even having to try. He knows the real strength is in taking care of someone, not in forcing them into anything they’re not ready for.  

When you’re with him, it’s like he’s always tuned into you, always listening, always aware of exactly what you need. He’s the guy who doesn’t take, but gives—gives you everything he can, with a level of care that’s almost overwhelming. And even though he’s gentle, don’t get it twisted—he’s still a tease. He’s the kind of man who’ll leave marks on your skin, a subtle reminder that you're his. But it's all in the way he leads, in that steady hand that takes yours, guiding you through every little moment.  

There’s nothing loud about Crowe—other than his moans and whining. I SWEAR he has pretty moans.

He doesn’t demand anything and doesn’t rush you, but he has this way of making you feel like you’re the only person in the room. When he touches you, it’s with a confidence that leaves you breathless but also comforted. He’ll press his forehead against yours, his hand guiding yours down to your stomach, just so you can feel his bulge inside you,how much he wants you, how much he’s thinking about you at that moment. 

There’s no need for words—just that connection, that intense eye contact that says everything.  

But yeah, he’ll also let you think you have the upper hand for a minute. Let you believe you’ve got him cornered, like you're finally taking control… only for him to flip the switch, regaining control without you even realizing.  

With Crowe, it’s not about begging or pleading for pleasure—it’s about your happiness, your satisfaction. His version of dominance is the kind that wraps around you like a warm blanket, soft and cozy. He just wants to see you smile, hear you laugh—moan, and whine under him, and know that every moment spent with him is full of happiness.  

So, if you're into a soft dom who values deep emotional connection, tenderness, and affection, Crowe’s your man! He just wants you to trust him, to let go and let him care for you. Let him be there for you in every single way, in every moment. 

And in that, he gives you all the security you’ll ever need.

✑ Praise (giving + receiving)

Crowe is all about Praise, and affection through words. Imagine him pulling you close, whispering in your ear while his fingers gently trace patterns along your skin. 

“You’re such a good girl for me, look at how well you take me, love. That’s my girl, always so ready for me, aren’t you?” His words make you feel safe, wanted, and cherished.

He doesn’t wait for you to ask for reassurance—he gives it freely, letting you know how much he appreciates having you around, and how much he loves seeing you smile. And when it comes to your body? He knows every inch of it like he’s got a personal map of your every curve and spot. He might even joke, “No one will ever know you like I do. I’ve ruined you for everyone else, haven’t I?”

Crowe has this vibe about him, like he’s always hungry to make sure you're feeling amazing, but don’t forget to show him some love, too. He thrives on hearing you praise him, especially when you whisper how much you need him, and how much he’s doing for you. The sound of your voice, the words you say—they get to him, melt him down until his heart's pounding.

Now and then, he’ll pull back, checking in on you, “You okay? Am I pushing you too far?” It’s not just about the rush for him. He wants you to be comfortable, to be in sync with him as he takes you through everything, slow and steady, giving you all that love. “That’s it, you're doing so well,” he’ll say, his voice smooth like syrup, making sure you know you're adored.

But here’s the thing: if you keep praising him, or if you’re the one in control, just wait. Crowe’s mouth? It’ll get filthy. AND I MEAN FILTHY. He can’t help it, don't be mean now...

I mean, you can. You giving him head? Taking his cock deep inside your throat, feeling he's about to cum, then you pulled back, teasing him. He'll say, "Please, my love, you were doing so good on my cock—please, please, keep going, I need that tongue of yours."

One of his favorite things is when you’re so into it that he can just forget what you say and speak directly to you, but in a way that’ll make your body react before your mind even catches up. Like, he’ll whisper, “God, you taste so damn good. Missed me, huh? Just wanna be filled up, don't you?”

His words drip against you, his eyes dark with heat, like he's speaking to your body, not even acknowledging your moans. “Such a good fucking pussy. Always making me feel so damn good. Want me to stuff you full, hm?”

And when it’s all done? Crowe doesn’t just drop it and move on. He’s got aftercare down to an art. He’ll guide you through it, keep you close, making sure you’re okay, settled, and cared for, getting ready to do it all again whenever you’re ready!

✑ Experimentalist

Crowe is the kind of man who never wants to leave any stone unturned, especially when it comes to experiences.

There was something about him that screamed experimentalist—like he needed to try everything, no matter how wild or unconventional. When it came to relationships, he was always up for anything, which meant he'd probably had more relationship experiences than most people you knew. 

His mind is open, impossibly so, and he had an insatiable curiosity that could never be satisfied. He’d never form an opinion on something without diving in and getting his first-hand taste. If there was something new to try, something out-of-the-box—Crowe was there, ready to explore. 

And honestly? He didn’t even need you to ask twice. If you suggested something wild, he’d be all in—his enthusiasm infectious, his curiosity never-ending.

However, he's pretty vanilla when it comes to experimenting, so don't expect him to go TOO hardcore. If there's a kink suited to his taste and he masters it? Oh, Babe, you'll feel it—so much in fact.

Take ropes, for example. Blindfolds? Handcuffs? Oh, he is intrigued. But, again, don’t expect anything brutal. He isn't the type to be into floggers or paddles; no, pain isn't needed for his skills. It is his anticipation. The slow burn of him carefully tying you up, not in a rush, but with the kind of patience that made every moment last longer. 

When his hands hovered over your skin, it wasn’t just touch—it was electric. He’d make sure to linger, let his fingers graze over every inch, just enough to make you shiver, your breath hitching in the air between you. It wasn’t about hurting you, not at all. No, it was all about the build-up—the moment when the ropes or restraints were placed just so, tightening the tension between you both until it was practically unbearable. 

And then? When you finally let go, it was a release so sweet and steady that it left you breathless. No rushing, no quick fixes—just a slow, fulfilling pleasure.

Adding on, Crowe loved the idea of restraint. Whether for fun, for art, or for that extra little spark of excitement, there was something about having you completely at his mercy. 

And if you ever flipped the script? If he was the one getting tied up? Like I said, Crowe will be just as filthy when he lets his guard down. 

✑ Dacryphillia

Okay, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking—"Crowe? He would never hurt me. Why would he want to see me cry?" And I get it, really. This is one of those wild ideas but just stick with me for a second.

You know how he’s all about emotions and deep connections, right? Get it?

He gets this deep fascination with what you feel and show, especially when it’s raw. Here’s where it gets interesting: Dacryphilia. Yeah, I’m talking about that thing where someone gets... well, aroused by tears, by the sound of you sobbing, the whole mess of emotions. 

So, let’s imagine this: You’re begging him, pleading for more. Your face is a mess of emotions, eyes watery, tears rolling down your cheeks. And yeah, he’s gonna ask if you’re okay because that’s the kind of man he is—always checking, always making sure. But if you keep begging for more? Oh, that’s when it gets dangerous. 

Each desperate plea of yours, each tremor in your voice, just fuels this fire inside him, an all-consuming fire. His eyes? They’re practically glowing, deep blue, and locked on you like he's drowning in you, in every little thing you’re feeling.

You can feel him there, so close you can almost taste his breath on your skin. His lips brush against your ear, a soft, teasing whisper sending shivers down your spine. "So desperate for me already, huh? We haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet..." His voice is low, and dangerous, like he’s savoring every second of this.

You know he’s enjoying this. Every inch of him is hooked, and once he has you like this, there’s no going back.

Crowe’s could be teasing you for what feels like hours, driving you wild with a mix of pleasure and frustration. He’s pulled every bit of sensation from you, your body trembling with each orgasm, each touch—until you’re left aching for more. You’ve come undone on his fingers, his tongue, but now, you’re desperate in a way that makes your chest ache. You need him, inside of you, filling you up, but he’s holding back. Just barely, he brushes against you, grinning at the whine that slips from your lips.

His head teases your entrance, and you can’t stop yourself from begging, voice shaky, "Please... Please, please." You repeated. Tears burn at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision as they fall helplessly. The emptiness without him feels unbearable.

Crowe tilted his head, the smirk on his face practically dripping with playful mockery. “Just please?” He dragged the word out slowly, eyes twinkling with mischief. “Tell me what you want. Can’t do anything unless you say it. What is it you’re begging for?” His hand slid up your stomach, hand pushing lightly as if testing the waters. 

He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear, the playful glint in his eyes shifting into something darker, more calculating. “You want me to fill you up, don’t you?”

His grin stretched wider as you stumbled over your words, desperate and disordered, pleading for more. He could tell you were unraveling, and it only pushed him further, each whimper was like a small victory. 

“You’re falling apart, love,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need... just say the word.” You could barely focus as the desperation built into your chest. His control over you was unnerving, yet exhilarating. The tears on your cheeks were a mix of frustration and need, a silent scream for him. 

“I need you, Crowe. Please...” Your voice was broken, but he was the one who was in control, studying the way you reacted like a willing experiment.

Crowe’s hand lifts gently to your cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears streaming down your face. He gives you a soft grin, his voice low and teasing. “Already crying for me, huh?” he murmurs, almost amused. His thumb, slick with your tears, slips past your lips, letting you taste the salty remnants of your emotions. "We’ve just started," he adds, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Before you can respond, his hips jerk forward, pushing into you with one swift, forceful motion. The shock of it makes your breath catch, and Crowe can’t help but smirk, his eyes glinting with that dangerous, experimental gleam.

Every move, calculated and deliberate, is part of his twisted exploration. And you? You’re the willing subject.

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

Sol is described as a “stinky basement-dwelling yandere”—ngl, this alone made me laugh. He’s a quiet kid, the one who lingered at the edges of every room, observing, never quite fitting in.

Beneath his reserved exterior was a complexity most couldn’t fathom. He’s incredibly smart, with a sharpness that slipped through his words when he spoke, though he rarely bothered to. His talents leaned toward the arts, paintings, and writings.

And yet, at the end of the day, Sol isn’t exactly smooth. He was hopelessly inexperienced when it came to relationships. He gets no bitches, and honestly, he probably doesn’t even try. But in his inexperience is a certain rawness, and once you did get to know him, he’ll flirt or charm you. But before, he just watched and wanted.  

Now, let’s address the question: Can you see Sol as kinky?

Yes, let’s not sugarcoat it—he is kinky asf. Of course, he is. There was no way someone as quiet and repressed as Sol didn’t have a horny side, one he tried to keep buried but couldn’t fully hide due to his love for you. 

✑ Switch (A Pervert…)

Now, about Sol’s... preferences. 

From reading his relationship information card and playing the game. He is a paradox, a Switch in every sense of the word. He didn’t neatly fit into the mold of “always dominant” or “forever submissive.” Oh no, that would be far too mundane for someone like him. He's not a standard yandere people.

Sol is a man of extremes, a “pervert” in the most endearing, shameless sense of the word. He believed in living freely, without the shackles of societal expectations or traditional constraints. Ethics, morality, conventional roles—he’d toss them aside without hesitation if they stood in the way of his desires.   

When he takes the reins as Dominant, Sol is the type to lean into theatrics, pushing boundaries with a devilish grin and that mischievous gleam in his eyes. He had a talent for making the experience unforgettable, for making you feel as though the entire world had melted away, leaving only the two of you. But when the tables turned, when Sol found himself in the more submissive role, he’d throw himself into it with equal fervor. 

He’d challenge you to prove your worth, tease and push until you stepped up to the plate, and then—when you finally did—he’d surrender so completely that it'll feel like a victory worth savoring.  

To Sol, sex and relationships weren’t just about power dynamics or tradition. They were a playground for exploration, a place where the only rule was to follow what felt right. With his “anything goes” mentality, Sol turned every interaction into a kaleidoscope of passion and unpredictability. 

As mentioned, Sol, can’t help himself when it comes to you.

Let’s say he has this thing—Voyeuristic Disorder, to be precise, a fancy word for being a pervert. Dosn't care to see anyone else naked. Only you he wishes to see. He was obsessed with watching you, whether you knew it or not. In public or private, it didn’t matter.

He just liked being there, lurking in the shadows, soaking in every moment. Watching you do the most intimate things, completely unaware that he was there. 

There was something so exhilarating about seeing you—your bare skin, the way you moved, the little things you did when you thought no one was watching. He couldn’t resist. The way your body reacted, the sounds you made when you didn’t know he was there—it was all he needed. 

Deadass, I’m shocked that the creator of the game never added a specific scene where you were taking care of yourself in bed—you freak, oblivious to him sneaking a peek from the window, his hand on his cock, jacking himself off, doing exactly what he does best. Watching. 

He didn’t let societal norms dictate how he expressed himself or who he loved. He was unapologetically himself—messy, chaotic, and a little too intense for most people’s taste. But for those brave enough to step into his world, you, well, if you picked him, that is.

Sol will offer an experience unlike any other: one filled with unrelenting honesty, unbridled passion, and a love that refuses to be anything less than extraordinary.  

✑ Praise (Receiving)

Sol isn't the type of man you’d peg as desperate for validation—at least, not at first glance. His sharp, confident exterior gave the impression of someone who had the world at his feet, who didn’t flinch under pressure or crack beneath judgmental stares. 

But peel back the layers of this supposed nonchalant and cool type of man, and you’d find a truth that was much more human, much more raw. Sol craved praise. Why? Perhaps it was the lack of it throughout his life. His track record for romance was, let’s say, less than impressive. Not because he lacked charm or good looks—he had both in spades—but because his overbearing aura and unapologetic eccentricities tended to drive most people away. 

They didn’t understand him, couldn’t see past the way he challenged conventions. He wore his "loser" title like armor. After all, who cared if he didn’t have admirers lined up at his door? He didn’t need anyone... right? Yet, when someone, such as you, did manage to offer him an honest compliment, something sincere, it was like watching a dam break. 

His confident smirk would falter for a second, his eyes softening, betraying the vulnerability he worked so hard to conceal. Sol wasn’t accustomed to receiving love—real, genuine love—and when it came, it hit him like a truck

✑ Masochist

The first time you noticed Sol’s tendency to endure pain, you’d thought it was just his stubborn nature. He’s always been the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve when it came to you—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically vulnerable. But as time went on, you began to see something deeper beneath that tough, rebellious exterior. 

Sol wasn’t just someone who endured pain; he seemed to embrace it…? almost thrive on it, especially when it comes to you.

Sol is, without a doubt, a masochist. Not in the twisted, sadistic sense, but in an almost heartbreaking way. He’d do anything to please you, to earn your attention—even if it meant enduring the unendurable. 

He could never be a sadist. No, he loved you too much to ever inflict pain on you, physically or emotionally. The very thought of hurting you would make his stomach churn. Instead, he channeled all his devotion into being by your side, no matter the cost.

There were moments when his tendencies became painfully obvious. Like he gets into fights back to back, defending himself or you—for example, the movie theater bathroom or the Campus library (With or without.)

You hadn’t/have even been there to witness it—Sol hadn’t wanted you to see him like that, bruised and bloody. But when you found out later, he brushed it off with that crooked grin of his, the one that hid just how far he’d go for you. “It’s nothing,” he’d said, wiping the blood from his lip. “They deserved it for talking about you like that.”

Or that time with Crowe. It had been an innocent moment, just you laughing at something Crowe said, but to Sol, it might as well have been a dagger to his chest. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, nails digging into his palms until they drew blood. He didn’t want to feel that way—jealousy mixed with self-loathing—but he couldn’t help it. Watching you walk away with someone else, even for a moment, was unbearable. 

It wasn’t that he enjoyed the pain; it was just that he could handle it, even when it tore him apart inside.  

And in the quiet, intimate moments, Sol’s masochistic streak became something else entirely. If you picked him willingly, He’ll trust you, and loved you, enough to let down every last defense he had. He didn’t just endure pain; with you, he could find meaning in it. 

A sharp bite, nails dragging down his back—he shivered under your touch, his body responding in ways he didn’t fully understand but didn’t question. For him, it wasn’t just about the sensation; it was about the connection, the way it brought him closer to you.  

Masochism, for Sol, wasn’t about pain tolerance. It wasn’t about how much he could take. It was about the way he found a strange, twisted kind of comfort in it. The pain wasn’t the point; it was the context, the giver—you. Sol would never seek out pain for its own sake, but if it was for you, if it meant being close to you, he’d endure anything.  

Even in the game, he seemed to attract hardship like a magnet, always the one taking the hits—physically and emotionally. Whether it was the bullies who thought he was an easy target or the way he seemed to hurt himself just to prove his devotion to you, Sol carried it all with a quiet, unshakable resolve. Because, at the end of the day, it wasn’t about the pain. It was about you.  

And he’d never stop. For Sol, loving you wasn’t just a choice—it was a part of who he was. If being close to you meant enduring the worst the world could throw at him, he’d take it all with a smile. Because that’s who Sol is. A damn masochist.  

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.  

✑ Somnophillia 

It was inevitable, wasn’t it? Everyone could see this coming from a mile away—there was simply no other possibility. Sol, in all his twisted complexity, had long blurred the line between obsession and affection, his love taking on forms most would never dare to comprehend. 

Some might accuse him of holding darker urges, like necrophilia, drawn to the lifelessness of the dead. But no, that isn’t Sol. Despite his obsessions, there was a deep-rooted sentimentality within him—a refusal to let go, to lose. If anything, he had made it clear in his own hauntingly poetic way: he’d rather die with you than live without you. 

Yet, that didn’t mean his desires were any less unnerving. No, Sol’s particular brand of affection manifested in somnophilia, a fascination with the vulnerability of sleep, the beauty of your unconscious form. To him, those moments were sacred—your body relaxed, your mind adrift in dreams. It was when he felt closest to you, unguarded and free from the chaos of the waking world.  

Before your relationship, it started innocuously enough—or so it seemed. He’d find ways to end up at your apartment, invited by some pretense or perhaps even through sheer charisma. And then, ever so subtly, he’d lace your drink with something to make you drowsy, to keep you from suspecting as his fingers ghosted on you. 

You lay there, utterly still, utterly serene, your chest rising and falling with the kind of peaceful rhythm that seemed to still the chaos of the world around you.  

It was maddening, the way you looked so untouched by the noise that haunted him, your lips slightly parted, the barest whisper of breath escaping them. Every exhale was a siren call, soft and unassuming, but it gripped him like a vice.  

His gaze wandered, helplessly drawn down the curve of your cheek to your lips. They looked soft, and inviting in a way that felt almost cruel. He wanted to press his own to them, to taste whatever peace you’d found and see if he could borrow just a fraction of it for himself.  

But it wasn’t just your lips. His eyes traced lower, following the lines of your body, the way your clothes clung to you, hinting at the form beneath. He shouldn’t be thinking like this—he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the thought of you, warm and pliant beneath him, invaded his mind, unrelenting.  

He swallowed hard, trying to shake it off, but the more he fought, the more vivid the thoughts became. The sound of your soft sighs, the way you’d move under his touch, how you’d look at him—not like this, not sleepily and unaware, but awake, wanting.  

God, he was losing it.  

Sol leaned back, running a hand through his hair, forcing his gaze away from you for a moment. But it didn’t matter—your image was burned into his mind, and there was no escape. Watching you sleep was his guilty pleasure, though his guilt barely lasted long enough to stop him from pressing further. 

Once the two of you were together, the dynamics shifted, but only slightly. Sol’s obsession deepened, and the lines of consent became more of a gray haze in his mind. To him, love was devotion—complete and all-encompassing. And if you loved him, shouldn’t you accept him entirely? Shouldn’t you trust him to care for you, even when you weren’t awake to see it? 

He was careful, always so careful with you, so don’t worry! 

His lips found their way to the sensitive curve of your inner thigh, his movements slow and deliberate as if savoring every second of this quiet moment. You stirred faintly, a sleepy whimper escaping your lips as the warmth of his mouth brushed against you, teasing and tender.

Sol’s hands gripped your hips gently but firmly; his fingers splayed across your skin to hold you in place. You tried to shift, your body instinctively responding to the soft, wet pressure of his tongue on your needy cunt, but his strength was unyielding.

“Shh,” he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly whisper in the stillness. One hand slid up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, his thumb lingering for a moment as he marveled at the serene expression you wore, so unaware of the devotion he poured into every touch. “You’re even more beautiful like this,” he breathed, his words an intimate confession meant only for the dark.

To Sol, this meant everything. 

This was the essence of love itself—intimacy beyond words, a bond that transcended anything others could hope to understand. He wasn't like anyone else; he knew that, and perhaps that’s what made this feel so special. So sacred. There was a quiet possessiveness in the way he worshiped you, a deep yearning to etch himself into every corner of your being, to ensure no one else could ever touch the part of you that belonged to him.

And as you stirred again, a soft moan escaping your lips, Sol smirked against your skin, the faintest edge of smug satisfaction curling at the corner of his mouth. You might not fully wake, but you’d feel him—his touch, his adoration, eventually his cock. You’d know, even in sleep, that you were his world.

To be with him, you’d have to accept all of him. Every tender smile, every soft whisper... and every shadowed obsession that came with it. 

· ─────── ⋆⋅ 🝣 ⋅⋆ ─────── · 

[cozycottagetarot]

The Little Things That Drive Them Wild

Notes: I've been working on this all week, I'm depressed and on top of that burnt out and exhausted soooo sorry if I missed any mistakes!

💄 Reading Contents:

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Your Everyday Charm

💋 Patreon Extended:

Moments When They Feel Weak for You

Their Favorite “Caught in the Act” Moments

How They Fantasize About Responding

This reading is for entertainment purposes only! Take only what resonates be it all, some or none! ✨

LINKS: Reading Masterlist | Dividers | Ko-Fi | Patreon | Patreon Masterlist | Paid Readings | Paid Readings - $10 and Under - PLEASE DM ME ABOUT READINGS

PILE 1

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Page of Cups, Two of Wands, Sun,

For some reason, the first thing that comes to mind is someone caught mid-thought, their eyes kind of distant but soft, lost in a dream or musing about something exciting. There’s something so captivating about when you slip into those moments. It’s like you radiate this quiet, hopeful energy that makes your person wonder what’s going on in that mind of yours. To them, it's irresistible.

You also have this undeniable joy exuding from you. The kind that can infects others without them even noticing. When you’re fully in the moment, letting this joy pour out of you, it’s like the world around you disappears for your person. They’re completely pulled in without you even trying.

I also keep getting this image of you smiling—a genuine, effortless kind of smile—and your person being absolutely smitten. You seem to have this way of lighting up when you’re excited or happy, and it’s almost like they can’t help but feel it, too.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Knight of Swords, Death, Seven of Wands

The first thing that stands out is your ambition and drive—you don’t hesitate to charge forward when you’ve set your sights on something, and your person finds that magnetic. And it’s not just that you’re ambitious; it’s the way you act on it. You seek out transformation and change with a sense of confidence and purpose. There’s something so inspiring to your person about the way you embrace growth, even when it means taking risks or stepping into the unknown.

I also get that your fierceness is a big part of what draws them in. I feel like you don’t back down when it comes to defending what you believe in. Even in moments where you might not be 100% correct, the passion you bring when it comes to standing your ground is something your person finds strangely endearing. Part of what draws your person to you is that spitfire energy and the way you throw your whole heart into what you care about.

But you also have a softer energy that balances everything out. You’re someone who's generous and compassionate, maybe even without a second thought. You're the type of person who would stop everything to help an injured animal or lend a hand to someone in need without a second thought. It’s that blend of intensity and gentleness that makes keeps the hooked. Your person loves how multi-dimensional you are—someone who can fight for their beliefs one moment and show deep compassion the next.

Your Everyday Charm

Cards: Five of Cups, Five of Wands, Wheel of Fortune, Ace of Cups

There’s something about you that comes across as a bit mysterious... I feel like in quieter moments when you’re lost in thought or just keeping to yourself, your person may feel like they take the time to really see you. What I mean by this is the little details about you such as the way your features soften when you’re deep in your own world.

I don’t know if you’re someone who fidgets or has a habit of touching things, but it feels like they notice those small quirks. Maybe it’s the way you twirl your hair, tap your fingers, or run your hand over a textured surface— but whatever it is, it’s something they can’t help but find endearing. I'm also getting that in moments where you’re being challenged by others, you may observe before reacting. If they're with you, it’s like they can see the gears turning in your head. They love watching you process things, almost like they’re trying to understand your inner workings of your mind.

There’s also this magical quality about you, like you have this ability to make life feel filled with magic in the simplest of ways. You might not even realize it, but somehow you make them feel like they’re living in a dream. There’s a sweetness to the way you show care, whether it’s through small, everyday gestures or moments where you’re pouring into your person or your relationship. Even mundane things—like making them a cup of coffee, fixing their hair, or just sitting next to them—feel enchanted for your person.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

PILE 2

How Do You Unintentionally Captivate Them?

Cards: Five of Wands, Three of Cups, Death

The first thing that comes to mind is your ability to adapt effortlessly to different environments and social circles. It’s like you could seamlessly blend into one group today and an entirely opposite group tomorrow, without missing a beat. This could stem from a survival mechanism you developed throughout your life, but it’s become second nature—a part of who you are. Your ability to navigate these social dynamics with ease is likely something your person finds captivating.

There’s also a strong sense of resilience about you. The way you handle conflict or challenging situations seems graceful, almost effortless, even when the odds are stacked against you. Your person might be struck by how you manage to remain composed under pressure and spin difficult moments into opportunities for growth. They might admire the way you emerge from the other side of hardship renewed, stronger, and ready to embrace what’s next.

Beyond that, there’s a warm, supportive energy radiating from you. Whether you’re celebrating with others or offering comfort, you seem to have a knack for making people feel at ease. I also get a sense of enchantment from these cards, almost as if there’s a spark of magic in how you carry yourself. For some reason, Tinker Bell comes to mind—maybe it’s a reminder of your playful, whimsical side or your ability to light up a room in unexpected ways. Maybe it's a confirmation for something you've been pondering on for a bit.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic Cards: Seven of Cups (Reversed), Page of Pentacles, The Emperor

You give off an energy of someone who is grounded, decisive, and incredibly self-assured. You have an ability to cut through the noise (of life really). While others might get lost in daydreams or overwhelmed by choices, you’re someone who sees clearly and knows exactly what you want. Your person could likely find this decisiveness magnetic, as it exudes a quiet confidence that feels stable and dependable.

I think you also bring a unique blend of practicality and creativity to the table. You’re someone who can take even the smallest spark of an idea and nurture it into something tangible. You have the focus and drive to bring dreams to life, and that’s an inspiring quality. It’s like you’re the one people look to when they need a plan or want to see something through. You come across as someone who knows how to take charge and create stability, whether in your own life or for those around you. Your person might admire how dependable you are, someone they (and others) can rely on for solid advice or a calm presence in chaotic times. I also feel like you're someone who puts the time and effort in and that's something that just does it for your person.

Your Everyday Charm Cards: Wheel of Fortune, The World, Five of Pentacles

There’s something charming about how you carry yourself through life’s ups and downs and not just the significant moments but the little ones too. Like missing a bus, running late for work, running out of something when you need it (I hope you get the gist lol). I also feel like your person sees beauty not just in your appearance (although that's emphasized as well) but in the way you quietly navigate the dull moments and short term disappointments we experience. You have a way of picking yourself up and boosting your spirit that is endearing. On a daily level, it might be the little things you do to create beauty in your life, no matter the circumstances. Think how you decorate your spaces, plate your food, cultivate a cozy moment.

Your person really admire how you’re able to turn the simplest things into something special, creating a life that feels fulfilling and intentional even when resources are limited. You don’t need the latest trends or expensive items—you can take something as humble as a few old books or scraps and turn them into something that feels genuinely valuable.

Your person notices the way you focus on making things better, no matter the circumstances, and finds it charming and hard to ignore.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

Pile 3

How You Unintentionally Captivate Them

Cards: Death, Judgement. The Emperor, The Hierophant 

It’s not just one thing—it’s everything about you that pulls them in without you even realizing it. There’s this grounded, unshakeable energy you carry, but it’s wrapped in a quiet elegance that feels so effortless. It’s not about trying to stand out; you just do. The way you move through life—intentional, steady, and composed—creates a presence that people can’t help but notice. Even in chaos, you somehow stay calm, like you’re the eye of the storm.

What really gets them is how deeply you focus on what’s in front of you. It’s like the world blurs around you, and you’re completely in your element. Whether it’s the way your hands move when you’re busy, the calm in your voice when you’re speaking, or the determination in your eyes when you’re locked into something—it’s magnetic. They can’t look away.

It’s in the small, subtle things, too. The way you pay attention to details, how you seem to elevate even the simplest moments, or that quiet confidence you have without even trying. Maybe it’s the way you smile, how kind you are in little ways, or the natural grace you bring into every interaction. It feels like you make life more beautiful just by being in it.

There’s this perfect balance between your strength and your calmness that they can’t get enough of. You’re firm but approachable, confident but kind, and it’s just captivating. They admire how you move through life and how you make them feel just by being yourself.

The Personality Traits They Find Magnetic

Cards: Four of Cups, Eight of Wands, Queen of Wands, Strength

Your person is attracted to how intentional you are about what you let into your world. You don’t say “yes” just to go along with things or settle for something that doesn’t feel right. Your discerning nature makes you stand out and pulls them in.

There’s also the way you move through life with an air of purpose, momentum, and confidence. You don’t linger too long in “what ifs” or overthinking; you simply trust yourself to make the right call and go for it. It makes watching you in action thrilling for your person as you bring this bright, unstoppable energy wherever you go. You’re bold, and you own it, but it never feels forced. It’s just you, shining naturally.

I do think that what makes you really magnetic to your person is how you balance your boldness with gentleness. Beneath all you passion and creativity, there’s a softness that makes people feel safe and seen. It’s in the way you treat others with kindness and show care without making a big deal about it. Even when you’re chasing your passions, you always seem to carry this warmth and thoughtfulness.

Your Everyday Charm 

Cards: Wheel of Fortune, Justice, Nine of Pentacles

Somehow, you manage to make the simplest moments feel special, like everything you touch has a hint of magic to it. Even the way you go about your routine feels intentional, like you’re crafting a life that’s all your own.

I know I keep saying it, but the balance you keep on a daily basis charms your person. You’ve got this knack for keeping things in harmony, be it work, downtime, or fun, and on top of that you make it look so natural. It’s not about chasing perfection either, you just do what works for you. I think your person admires this so much.

I think you also manage to genuinely enjoy your everyday life and your person loves that about you. You don’t wait for big moments to feel happy—you find joy in the small stuff. Whether it’s sipping your favorite tea, throwing on an outfit that makes you feel amazing, or stopping to notice something beautiful, you have this way of savoring life that’s so refreshing.

💋 Discover what makes them weak for you, their favorite “Caught in the Act” moments, and how they fantasize about responding (not a spicy reading). Plus, unlock exclusive extended readings for all my other PACs when you join The Cozy Corner for just $1.50 USD (and up). Check it out here.✨

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 9 - Death

summary : maybe it is time for reader to move on from patterns that are now useless and reconsider things

content warnings : some angst, then some comfort, then more angst, then more comfort, some crude language an mentions of harassment

word count : 6.1k

author's note : okay i think i might write my old bg3 requests still sitting in my inbox after this but!!!! im excited to write the next chap

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world <3

masterlist : here

taglist : @doctorho @6selkie @yunloyal @kryscent @hypocritic-trash-baby @kapitankarate @a-lovers-card @ababanerb @lolixsstuff @forget-me-not-my-dear @smolanchovy @shugar0cone0alt @harrys--ferret-blog @suuummerrr @stillinracooncity @noxturnalmoth @dlbitch @cloufire @csolya @kathyholdsagrudge @furblrwurblr @potatointhedirt @atrocioushaircut @ren-ni @schrodingersraven @urmommt

You had spent your Saturday recovering, not without frustration. It was a waste of time, you thought. You could have taken advantage of a day without any classes or work like that to study and make more progress, but Selene had come to visit you, worried.

She officially met Sky, who had always admired her since her first lessons with her. Selene had come to your bedside, placing a gentle hand on your forehead for a moment, then letting it slide down to your warm cheek. She sighed, familiar with your overworking habits.

She asked Sky about your night, about the prescribed treatment, and Selene couldn't help but exchange a knowing glance with you when Viktor was mentioned, especially for such chivalrous deeds. She smiled a playful ‘see, I told you so’ which made you pull your cover over your head in annoyance.

When she left, Sky came back to you, bringing you a chicken broth to restore your health, which she hoped you'd consume to the last drop.

"I'm sorry it had to come to this and calling them, calling him. But..." She sighed, watching you finally eat something with relief. "You were working yourself to death, and with such a pace, you probably wouldn't have been able to pass the exams at all if you'd kept going."

You swallowed your mouthful with difficulty, a small knot of shame and regret tightening it. You'd been so obsessed, so fixated on outdoing yourself and winning back your number one spot from Viktor that you'd become nothing more than an information-gobbling machine.

You didn't even need it, you'd just decided to get ahead on the next year's syllabus in the hope of impressing in the papers and showing your dedication. How could you be so stupid? 

"Your state was deteriorating visibly..." Sky reflected, looking down at her hands before only meeting your gaze for a moment. "You really scared me, you know."

Your heart split in two. You placed your lunch tray on your bedside table, taking Sky's hands in yours and seeking her gaze despite her bowed head.

"Hey," you murmured in your tired voice as you smiled softly at her when she looked back at you. "You did the right thing, Sky. Without you..." you sighed, thinking back on your stupidity, "I don't know where I'd be right now. This was going to eat me alive until there would be nothing left of me but a white chalk outline on my desk."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hands. Her eyes glistened, her chin trembling slightly as she took off her glasses.

"Oh, Sky..." You pulled her into your arms, holding her close. "I'm sorry."

You couldn't imagine how tired she must have been, seeing you wasting away like that, not listening to her, not hearing her. She had her own revisions, her own things to do, and you had made your problem hers.

You could feel her forehead wrinkling, her hands trembling slightly around you as she twitched.

Since when did you become such an important part of someone's life that they cared that much about you?

What would have happened if, for one more year, you'd never had a flatmate? And if that flatmate hadn't been Sky, would she have had even an ounce of patience like your friend?

You'd fucked up and nearly gone off the deep end, and Sky had done everything she could to avoid it.

"I promise you to never do that again," you vowed, pulling away from her to run your thumb over her cheek and wipe away the tears. "Please, don't cry on me. Cry on... I don't know, Heimerdinger's hairstylist."

Don't cry for me, I'm not worth a waste of tears, not yours.

She laughed nervously, her eyes going to the ceiling. "I don't know why I'm crying, really, this is..." she sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "this is stupid."

"No, it's not," you smiled, "It's good to cry."

She raised her eyebrows, wiggling her nose and shrugging. "Well, you never do."

"That's because I sold my lacrimal glands," you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood by joking.

And it worked - she laughed, the sadness slowly evaporating from her face. "So you have no tears, but you still have your heart, right ?"

You closed your fist, banging it against your chest. "It's a dusty engine, but it does its work."

"Well," she stood up, "I hope it can still feel something."

You observed her for a moment, picking up a saucepan and filling it with water. No doubt to make coffee, or at least tea to ward off your addiction and prevent your mechanical heart from overheating under the caffeine. No amount of Piltovian gold could offer you anything like Sky's sweetness.

"My heart's full of room for the very few friends I have." You picked up your bowl of broth again, its warmth cupped against your fingers. "Its aorta is named after you."

She turned to you, smiling, her eyes filling again with tears as she breathed in. 

"You can't just say things like that and not expect me to ruin a box of these," she described movements in the air with her hands in ridiculous, exagerated swirls, "silk-soft tissues they have here."

"Their toilet paper is so thick and soft it feels like we're using pillows," you sneered before blowing on the bouillon.

"Right?!" Sky exclaimed, "It's only been like, a month and a half since I've been here and it all feels so fancy. Everything is so... clean."

"I know!" You laughed, "It's infuriating. The streets barely have a scratch, the buildings have colours straight out of a kid's colouring book, and they have trees."

She sighed, visualising the vegetation the city had before her eyes fell back on yours. "You never get used to it, right?"

You swallowed your mouthful of broth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Never."

She leaned back against the worktop, watching you for a moment. "Seriously though." She tilted her head to one side. "Don't ever do that again."

You smiled, bringing your forefinger and thumb to your ear and pressing on the lobe. 

It was a custom in Zaun to pledge your word. In the Undercity, you pressed your lobe as if you were piercing it, to imaginatively seal in the skin a ring other than the one on your finger. However, everyone knows that if you pull too hard on a piercing, you can tear the flesh, and find it difficult to retie the skin so that it can be pierced again. So the promise was made with a symbolic ring, anchored in the skin, that the promise would be kept.

"May my flesh tear apart if, by misfortune, I betrayed," you recited.

During the rest of the last week of classes before the exams, you resumed a much more normal revision routine than the original, much to Sky's delight. You'd revise with her in the afternoons outside class, asking each other questions about the subjects you shared while you were trying not to die laughing from the stupid ways you looked with your facemasks during skincare time.

When Friday came around, you decided to go to the library again. Unconsciously, it had become a ritual. With Viktor or without, you intended to surround yourself with knowledge as immense as possible.

You went and sat down at a table, alone, while many students who had come for the same reason were already crowding most of the available ones. You took out your things, rereading your index cards for the umpteenth time until you were almost ready to recite them by heart if the need arose.

You couldn't help but lose concentration when you heard your name spoken in the distance, coming from voices that weren’t familiar to you, further behind your back.

"And to say Viktor got put with her on Heimerdinger's subject," one said, chuckling.

"I wonder which of them pulls their hair out more in each other's company."

You tried not to think about it, but since, for once, the conversation wasn't all about the walking street lamp, you couldn't help but let your ears hang close to their mouths.

"Did you see her the other day? A vision of the apocalypse. Hollow cheeks and dead eyes like she hadn't eaten in a month."

"Gotta have hollow cheeks to suck the teachers better," her classmate sneered.

Your jaw tightened, trying to ignore their remarks. This wasn't your first time hearing such things - the previous two years hadn't been as gentle as this one, even if Viktor had caused a few problems with his arrival.

"Can you believe what she did to Tyler?"

"She's an animal." They both laughed, causing you to sink back into your chair.

"How do you think Viktor handles her?"

"He doesn't, she's just a handicap to him and he seems to have an embarrassing enough one as it is."

You inhaled. Someone will probably tell them to be quiet so as not to disturb the peace of the library. You hoped.

"Who's a handicap?"

Your eyes widened as you suddenly turned around. Viktor was standing there, facing them, both students suddenly looking very confused and ashamed.

"Viktor," one of them laughed nervously, "this was just a joke, she..."

But the student didn't have time to come up with an excuse. Viktor raised an eyebrow before speaking.

"She's an incredible person who no one can defeat," he informed them, the latter two lowering their eyes on their notes suddenly invested in their revisions. "Except me."

He punctuated his sentence, turning away from them and meeting your gaze. He seemed surprised, not expecting to find you there, at least not doing nothing when such needlessly cruel nonsense was uttered in your name.

Inevitably, of course, he moved towards you.

Except me.  The phrase made you roll your eyes for a moment before you tried to read information from your notes that hadn't needed reading for a long time. 

He sat down opposite you, keeping his hand on the pommel of his cane. "Your name seems to be on everyone's lips, Miss."

"What can I say," you sighed, "the obsession they have for me is an undying addiction."

However, Viktor didn't seem amused at all.

"Why do you let them say such things about you without lifting a finger?"

You bit the inside of your lip, feeling the pressure of his gaze on you as your eyes scanned uselessly over your revision sheets. 

"It's not the first time I've heard that kind of comment about me," you confirmed without much interest, "I'll survive it."

"So you spend most of your time worrying about the injustices other people experience but you push your own under a doormat?" Viktor summed up, not seeming genuinely thrilled at the idea.

"If I could push the injustice that Tyler is by his very existence off the face of this world, I'd be stepping on some rich blonde aristocrat every time I left and returned from home."

But Viktor still wasn't laughing, far from it. When your eyes finally met his, they were dark.

He sighed. "Are you trying to punish yourself for something by neglecting yourself so much?"

I'd like to forget more than anything else in the world. The thought was taking over your soul, eating away at you like a gangrene with an insatiable hunger.

"Of course," you chuckled, exaggerating a falsely happy tone.

"Stop this." His tone was firm.

"Stop what?" you questioned.

"Trying to make something funny out of this."

You frowned, raising an eyebrow. "What? You're not feeling in the mood for our ritual chit chats?"

"Do I look like I'm joking around right now?"

His eyes had the same gleam, carried the same weight as when he'd held you in place in your bed just a week ago. You almost gulped, speechless. Why was he reacting like that? Why was he worried about you?

You lowered your eyes, licking your lips as you returned to your notes.

"Fine," you admitted, dropping your sarcastic tone. "I guess I owe you for saving my life, anyway."

It didn't sound like it, but it was probably the closest you'd come to a ‘thank you’ for him so far. He seemed surprised that you were finally cooperating in the conversation, that you were at last sending him a very subliminal magic word.

His shoulders slumped, as if the idea of being angry with you was stupid.

"How are you feeling?" He finally asked.

"I'm no longer sick, if that's the question you meant to ask."

"It was, but also," he brought his cane up between his legs, clasping both hands on the pommel as he came to rest his chin on it, "I just wanted to know how you are doing."

Why are you doing this? You were thinking back over the last few weeks. His questions during the power cut, the attention he'd paid to you, staying awake all night by your side to make sure you were taking your medication properly, and now...

"Well," you swallowed, these thoughts unsettling you for a moment and sending a foreign warmth into your belly, "the exams are approaching and I think you've had quite the close look on their effect on me so... yeah."

He considered you, tilting his head to the side until his cheek was the one pressed against the back of his hands. He scanned you, his gaze sending a warm wind up your spine.

"You're still on the treatment, right?"

The horrible powder you had to mix in a glass at least twice a day wasn't the moment you were looking forward to most in your daily routine, but you did it anyway, under Sky's sharp eyes.

You remained silent, just to see how Viktor would react and whether, as he had dictated, he would make sure you stayed in bed no matter what.

Faced with your silence, he raised an eyebrow as he straightened up, finally wrinkling his forehead as he frowned.

"Right?" he repeated, almost menacingly.

"Relax." A nervous chuckle escaped you. "Yes, I'm taking it."

He sighed in relief at the news, while you shook your head in confusion.

"You're putting all this effort... for me? Why"

The phrase sounded alien in your mouth, as if you weren't worth the time or energy of such dedication. He gazed at you for a moment, his eyes roving over your index cards.

"You know why."

"Because you can't have your best rival go against you while she's sick?" you recited.

"Because I don't want to be your rival."

You found this answer profoundly absurd.

"What do you mean-" But he cut you off, annoyed.

"What do you want, hmm? To become Heimerdinger's assistant?"

Of course, you thought, but the way Viktor had said it sounded... easy, too easy. Or at least, too easy for you.

"I don't intend to be his assistant, and I'm going to tell you why."

He stood up, walking around the table until he was beside you and leaning in slightly.

"Because I've already been his assistant, and I stopped."

The words echoed inside you, like the cracking of something you thought was indestructible. Your lips parted in shock, watching him with huge eyes as he straightened up.

"In any case. I wanted to make sure that you'd be back in good shape." He began to walk towards the library exit, turning one last time to give you a playful look. "And now that I'm sure you'll be in full shape, I know I don't need to hold back, hm, rival?"

He turned away, heading for the big door, leaving you with a short-circuited brain. What did he mean by "already been"? What did he mean he had stopped? How had Viktor ever been Heimerdinger's assistant?

When the sentence finally reached your mind after a long travel from your ears, you gathered your things in a flash as the questions began to fly and you almost ran to catch up with him. You caught up with him in the corridors, under the astonished gazes of all the students.

"What?" you asked, out of breath from the sudden exertion and the gust of wind the news had knocked from your chest.

He turned to you, slightly surprised that you'd practically chased after him. He'd probably expected you to sit at your table, mulling things over until the questions got too much for you and you decided to come and see him after a day or two of mental torment.

"You've been Heimerdinger's assistant?" you repeated, adjusting the strap of your satchel on your shoulder.

He shrugged, turning away from you. "Yes."

Was he really just going to leave like that? Leaving you in agony for answers you wanted more than anything? No, it wasn't going to be like that.

You grabbed his wrist, much to his surprise, and pulled him with you into an empty adjoining corridor. Once you were out of sight, checking from one end of the corridor to the other to see if anyone was there, you finally regained his gaze.

There was something in his eyes, like a hint of something that kept his lips parted until they closed and his eyes lowered to your hand still gripping his wrist.

You let go, the heat of shame spreading across your neck and cheeks for a moment as you took a step away, crossing your arms over your chest.

"When were you his assistant?"

He leaned against the wall, sighing as he stared at you.

"You do remember Jayce's trial, don't you?"

How could you forget? You hadn't been present at the trial. Selene had invited you to come as it concerned your friend, but you were too afraid of the aristocratic eyes and the pressure they would put on you.

The story remained vague. Due to special circumstances that remained under the security and secrecy of the administration as to the extent of Jayce's activities, he had been allowed to stay at the academy.

"Yes."

"By then, I had already been Heimerdinger’s assistant for a month.."

You now were certain you'd never seen him before. It was just one month into your summer holidays, and you had gone to Zaun to find Eris. Your chances of running into him were almost nil, no doubt about it.

"How did you get to become his assistant?" you quizzed.

He shrugged, and that simple movement made you want to scream. "I suppose he must have liked my assiduity enough to take me on. That and the fact that, with his little legs, I was bound to walk at his pace," he joked.

You held your breath in your lungs for a moment, before releasing it. He didn't seem to be lying, at least about the only serious part of his sentence. He was undoubtedly the best choice for Heimerdinger in any case.

However, it seemed to you that it wasn't so much exasperation that you were feeling - you were trying to understand what the feeling was... a relief, but not really about the fact that the assistant's place was free, no, a relief about Viktor that you couldn't really place at the moment.

"Why did you stop?" There was no longer any frustration in your voice, just a new-found curiosity.

Viktor seemed taken aback by your new intonation, straightening slightly against the wall. "It didn't interest me anymore."

What could he have found that was better? The thought, at last, that Viktor's aim was not to be an assistant for the rest of his life, crept into your mind. Viktor seemed to pick up on it.

"See? I told you we didn't have the same goal."

You finally realised what that feeling of relief was: you didn't have to hate him any more. You no longer had a reason to try to outdo him, no longer had a valid justification for becoming number one again. But why was it such a relief? There was rarely anything more gratuitous than hatred in what you knew, and it should have been the same for Viktor, so why was it such a relief not to have to hate him any more?

Hating him served no purpose, no motivation. It was useless, and what do you do with useless things?

You took half a step towards him.

"The truce you suggested, have you come up with any clauses?"

His eyebrows rose, his eyes widened. He lifted himself off the wall.

"Um no-" he began, but you cut him off.

"Find some, and I'll consider them."

And with that, you took off, leaving Viktor speechless. 

You moved quickly, trying to get home as fast as possible. You were afraid that the street air, so pure and fresh, would wash away your conclusions and fuel a hatred that no longer had any reason to exist.

But you didn't go home straight away, making a diversion to Emeline's shop. As soon as you entered her shop, she didn't hesitate to jump on your neck and give you a hug.

"My little lamb," she enthused as she squeezed you until your ribs broke before cupping your face as if to examine you, "are you feeling better? You gave me quite a fright, you know! When your friend came to visit me and told me you were ill I nearly closed up shop to come and see you myself."

"Everything's fine," you laughed, squeezing her arms, "I've almost completely recovered!"

You'd decided that, after your chat with Viktor and all the effort you'd put into your revision, you deserved a little something to comfort you.

After a little chat with Emeline, she packed two pastries, one for you and one for Sky. Of course, she didn't forget to fill you up with an extra small packet of sweets that would have gone unsold during the day.

When you returned home, you greeted Sky with a smile and raised the two bags of treats to your head. She smiled in surprise.

"To what do we owe this feast?" she asked.

You shrugged. "Let's just say I've made resolutions for the better."

You'd been laughing all evening, stuffing your faces with these delicacies as you both took a well-deserved break from studying.

Your eyes turned to your tarot deck, you'd forgotten to draw any cards lately due to your revisions, so after wiping your hands full of sugar, you took the pack in hand.

“I see you pulling one almost every morning,” Sky remarked, lying on her stomach on your bed while you were cross-legged. “Why do you do that?”

You pulled out your cards in your hands. “To have a leitmotif to follow during the day. Although to be quite honest I don't follow their advice every time.”

She laughed softly, knowing by now your stubbornness like no other. “That doesn't surprise me at all.”

“Yeah well,” you smiled in turn as you shuffled the cards, ”some of them are not the best cards to wake up on to in the morning.”

So you cut your deck as usual, and looked at its underside. You raised your eyebrows.

“Just like this one.”

You showed Sky the card: Death.

She winced, her eyebrows furrowing as her mouth formed as if she were pronouncing the letter x.

“Okay, I get it,” she said, shaking her head. “Is it literal? I hope not, right?”

“Nah it's pretty safe.” You laughed. “The description of its meaning is in the little booklet.” You pointed to it with your chin, and Sky grabbed it, flipping through until she found the Death page.

“Transition. Underworld. Flux. Occultism. Letting go. Evolution requiring liberation. Metaphorical death.” She read. “Off to a great start apparently.”

You chuckled, observing the card as she continued reading. “Death moves across a field with a slow, steady march. A king lies dead. He represents the old systems of order cast aside. A bishop begs for mercy, a young girl turns away in fear and only a curious little girl looks up to greet death. She has not been taught to fear it.”

Your thumb passed over the little girl's drawing, your heart clenching. 

“A ship sails away, heedless of death's march. A sun rises between two towers to reflect resurrection and new beginnings. All endings give way to new possibilities. Transformation leads to renewal and growth.” She raised her eyebrows. “Ain't as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Yeah,” you considered, thinking back on your day and the fact that the cards were pointing you in the right direction, ”indeed.”

Exam week was over. You'd had absolutely no trouble at all with any of the exercises. All the subjects were in the bag and you were finishing virtually ahead of schedule in every exam room.

Today was the day of results. The teachers had spent the weekend correcting everything, and the results boards had finally been displayed.

You woke up feeling lighter than you thought you would. Since realizing that there was no longer any point in chasing Viktor to victory, you'd relaxed.

You went down the hall with Sky, passing the student mailboxes for a moment so you could check if either of you had received anything.

You opened the metal door to a single letter, sealed with a metallic black wax seal you knew all too well: Eris.

You took the key to your apartment, using its teeth to open the envelope and take out the letter, which you brought to your nose.

Her letters always smelled of the essential oils and herbs that constantly appeased you. Without further ado, you unfolded the paper and read its contents.

My sweet friend,

I thought you were a lost cause in friendship, but I guess this year the wheel is really turning on your side. I'm delighted, and I imagine the same goes for Selene. I'd love to meet her, that Sky, she sounds absolutely charming. I'm guessing, though, that the day with your Five of Wands must have been no picnic, especially if - from what I understand - Emperor Viktor is to blame. But I'm sure that the Immeasurable Grandeur of the Prestigious Piltover Academy will crown your success.

You giggled to yourself as your eyes passed over the elegant, forced curves that Eris had taken care to add in response to your own inky bows.

I miss you so much. You know how the days are here in Zaun; I open, sell and consult, and close in the evening before any trouble starts. I'm paid with golden trinkets, new flowers to dry and other plants from other regions. I have managed to get some new customers, though, and not the least important ones. Renata Glasc herself has been to my shop.

You'd already heard of Renata Glasc, an ambitious woman who was growing in influence on the streets of Zaun. She wasn't a Chem Baroness, but at the rate she was going, it looked like she was well on her way to becoming one.

In fact, it's through her that I'm hearing about worrying things here. Common for Zaun, you may say, but I can't help thinking the worst. I'll tell you about it myself when we meet. I'm planning to come here around December 23, so let's meet at the usual bridge at three o'clock. I'll be staying with you for a few days. I can't tell you more. But I've lit a candle for you, wishing you success and good health.

I look forward to seeing you again, my dearest trouble,

Eris.

What could she possibly be worried about? The situation was invariably complicated in Zaun, but what could it be that she was worried about?

You carefully tucked the letter into your bag, heading out to the shuttle stop.

“Not too stressed?” Sky asked.

You huffed, a cloud of warmth rising into the air. The cold had been gaining in intensity for over a week, and all the students at the academy had donned their scarves.

“No.” you replied, confident. “You?”

“A bit,” she admitted, her breath trembling slightly.

“Hey,” you pressed your shoulder against hers as she turned to face you, ”you've got this. I know you do.”

She nodded, smiling at you as the shuttle arrived. The journey was swift, some students over-excited at the prospect of their results, others apprehensive about what was to come.

As you arrived at the golden gates of the academy, you noticed that neither Viktor nor Jayce were in sight. Perhaps they had decided to go to the academy later?

The group of students walked up to the scoreboards, an army of others already huddled in front of them.

Sky went in search of her name, while you breathed in, waiting for other students to pass before you.

You didn't know what awaited you at the top of the board, which name would be at the head. Did it still matter? Yes, it probably did, or it didn't. Did you want it to matter? Probably not. But did your mind keep wandering? Endlessly.

What if Viktor was still number one - would you be disappointed? What if you were number one - would you be satisfied? And if neither he nor you were number one, would you be revolted?

“Look who it is!”

That voice alone was enough to make you frown, raise your eyebrows and lower your eyelids in boredom.

Tyler.

You turned to him for a moment, him seeming pleased that you responded to his voice as you rolled your eyes and sighed.

“What do you want, blondie? Searching for a new name on the boards to torment?”

He chuckled, stepping toward you. “You don't change a winning team, darling. Have you found your place at the very bottom of the ranking?”

It was your turn to chuckle, turning to face him. He had no idea about your academic results, it seemed. 

“Tyler you have as many neurons as you have eyes, and they're both fighting for any kind of connection.” You turned to the bulletin board, stepping forward slightly. “Do them mercy and close your eyelids for all eternity before we have to deal with a rain of fire and the horsemen and...”

But you didn't even finish your sentence, the words dying on your lips as your eyes came to rest on your name.

First place.

You were back in first place. Eyes and mouth wide open, you kept blinking to make sure your vision wasn't failing you. And the name underneath... 

Viktor.

Your scores were almost equal, yours barely beating him.

“Told you I wasn't going to hold back.”

You turned towards the voice, the tinkle you now knew too well of his cane echoing on the floor. He stood there, serene, a small smile on his face before his lips pressed into an inverted grin and his eyebrows raised.

“You fight well, Miss.”

You couldn't help it - you cracked a smile at him. And Viktor seemed astonished, as if he'd never seen such a thing happen. No stupid remark, no pettiness behind your drawn lips, just sincere amusement and joy.

“What the...” Tyler's voice died in his throat as he took in the bulletin boards, turning to you. “How did you...”

You turned to him, his sole presence now not even enough to ruin your happiness and relief. “As if you could reach me,” you replied with a triumphant smile, walking out of the crowd to join Viktor.

Once you got away from all this tumult, he nodded. “You got first,” he remarked, “congratulations.”

You observed him for a second, his posture reflecting a sort of disappointment. Was it from losing? Or was it from the fact you seemed so happy in your rivalry with him? You sighed, rolling your eyes.

“Quit it,” you pronounced with a smile, shaking your head slightly. “We share this crown, and you perfectly know that.”

He said nothing, just gazing at you for a moment. There was this gleam, the tickling of a smile ready to be born on his lips as the satisfaction that, maybe, these ink duels you were both fencing would wash away and let something different be born from them. 

He was apprehensive about saying something, but Jayce came towards you both.

“Ah, Jayce, exams went well?” You asked, knowing without a doubt that he didn't have to worry about his results.

“Oh yeah, perfect.” He nodded, pressing his lips into a thin line, his eyes darting from yours to Viktor's, surprised that you weren't quarrelling. “Say, hum... can I talk to you guys for a minute?” 

Viktor and you exchanged a confused look, before ultimately following him.

“A masquerade?” you repeated, as if the word had never grazed your lips before.

Jayce had brought you to a room in the Academy where you could all talk without hearing the multiple cries of students as to their result. And considering what he had to discuss with you, he'd done the right thing.

“It's this thing Mel is invited to,” he explained nervously. “All the people of high aristocracy will be there, counselors, lords and ladies... Please, can you both accompany me to it?”

“As your dance partners?” joked Viktor, frowning.

“No, Mel's already my partner. But, she said that there would be no opposition for you both to come as well. You're the,” he seemed to search for words for a moment, ”croom dé la cram?”

“Crême de la crême?” you suggested.

He pointed at you, glad you understood. “Yeah, that. La crême de la crême of the Academy. Such prestigious students as the both of you sharing the top of the board deserve to be in such an event.”

“So you want us,” you pointed repeatedly between Viktor and yourself, ”to come to this event because you're too nervous to go there by yourself?”

The interested party scratched the back of his neck, sniffling before looking at you both with puppy-dog eyes. “Yeah?”

“Aren't you supposed to have a partner to come to a masquerade?” Interrogated Viktor.

“I thought you two could... go together?”

You chuckled, your mouth hanging open. You exchanged a bewildered look with Viktor, who didn't seem to be too upset by the concept.

“You're joking, right?” you asked.

“Please just-” he didn't finish his sentence, “put your bickering aside for one evening. You don't even have to show up together if it suits you better.”

“I don't see any problems with it,” Viktor shrugged, indifferent. “When is it?”

"Tomorrow night."

“Tomorrow night?” You exclaimed. “Jayce, if it's a society gala, I've got nothing to wear.”

He reached into his own wallet, pulled out some bills and handed them to you.

“Here, I'm sure you'll find something convenient with this.”

“Jayce,” you remarked, looking at the fresh bills, “what the hell.”

“This is not much for you to get a decent gown for the gala. Keep the rest, if there is any, to get some fancy accessories.” He grabbed your hand, placing the cash in it. “Truly, this is the least I can do.”

You knew Jayce's patrons were the Kiramman’s, but to have money to give away like this? Since when was that the case?

“Vik, I think it's time for us to go.” Jayce finally remarked before leaving the room, leaving the two of you.

You both stayed in silence for a moment, both digesting the information that had just been given to you.

“What a way to celebrate your victory,” Viktor finally sighed.

“I've seen worse celebrations than a masquerade,” you remarked, observing the tickets for a moment before folding them up, “but I think I've had better experiences than being in a room with nobility sipping glasses of champagne with petty innuendo in every exchange.”

He huffed in turn. “I suppose the next area in which we must excel in no time is the art of conversation in high society. Although, considering our usual conversation,” he leaned his head to the side with a smirk, "we'll fit right in."

“How exciting,” you raised your eyebrows sarcastically, letting silence take its rule back on the room before you finally decided to break it. ”Guess I better go and find myself something to wear. See you tomorrow, Viktor.” 

“Wait,” he called to you, seeming hesitant about what he was going to suggest, ”would you like us to get together first and go? Or...”

“Let's meet directly at the party,” you assured him.

He nodded, his lips pressing in a thin line as you turned away. “Oh and...” you turned back to him at his words, his eyes piercing. “Don't forget the mask.”

You nodded, leaving the room.

You had today and tomorrow to find an outfit, and get used to the fact that Viktor was no longer a threat to be eliminated. Easier said than done. 

But still… What a way to celebrate a rebirth.

✦﹒ previous chapter ✦﹒ next chapter

[kittykat-suki]

Clingy 𓇢𓆸

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader Warnings: angst with comfort

Jeongin’s passion, his dedication to his fans, the way he pushed himself to perfect every move, every note and every performance captivated you.

So, when you were made aware that he had been overworking himself, you naturally decided to show up at practice to treat him and the other members to your well known sweet treats- y/n’s chocolate chip cookies and blueberry muffins. You hoped that this would provide all of them with a bit of energy to endure the long hours of rehearsals.

Smiling to yourself, you were excited to see the way Jeongin’s eyes would light up when he sees you. However, as you entered the studio, a unfamiliar atmosphere hung in the air. The usual bickering and laughter were absent. Instead, the tension was thick, almost suffocating.

The room was solely filled with the sound of exhausted footsteps and heavy breathing as the members rehearsed for their upcoming performance.

Jeongin stood at the center, his posture stiff as he wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking worn-out, as though his energy had been drained from every corner of his body. He hadn’t noticed you come in yet, but you figured it would only be a moment before his face broke into the warm smile you knew so well.

As the practise came to an end, you stepped forward, holding out the tub of treats. "Hey, Jeongin," you said softly, your voice warm but cautious, sensing the underlying tension. "I brought you all some snacks. I thought you might be hungry."

The other members turned toward you with friendly smiles, immediately taking the treats from you and offering their thanks. But Jeongin didn’t look up. He continued adjusting his shoes, his body tense as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. You tried again, more gently this time.

"Jeongin… you’ve been working so hard. Maybe you should take a break," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Finally, he looked at you, but not in the way you had hoped. His eyes were tired, bloodshot from lack of sleep, but what caught you off guard was the hostility in his eyes, which was supported by the sharp edge in his voice. "I don’t need a break, Y/N."

You stepped back, a little surprised by the distaste in his tone. "I just thought you might need some support—".

He cut you off with a scoff. "Support?" His voice grew louder now, filled with irritation. "I don’t need you hovering around me all the time, y/n. You’re being the opposite of supportive right now. It’s like you don’t get it."

The words stung horribly, but you tried to ignore it, hoping this wasn’t really happening. Maybe he was just tired. "I didn’t mean to annoy you… I just wanted to help. I made these for you guys, it’s your favourites."

"I don’t need your help," he snapped, the words hitting you harder than you expected. "You’re always so clingy, always trying to be there when I’m just trying to focus. It’s exhausting being with you."

The room fell silent. You felt your stomach drop as his words echoed not only around the room, but in your mind and all the way to your heart.

Clingy. Such a simple word, but it cut deeper than anything else he could have said. You had always been insecure of this, and now your caring boyfriend had just unknowingly confirmed your deepest fears.

"You’re right. I’m…sorry," you whispered, keeping your eyes down and onto the now bitter treats in order to stop the tears form rushing out. Your hands clenched around the tub, trying to keep your composure, but it was all unraveling inside you.

Before you could say anything else, you shoved the tub into Jeongin’s hands and turned away quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn’t even look back to see if he was watching you. With a slam, the door shut behind you, and you walked down the hallway, feeling the weight of his anger pressing down on you.

The cold air hit you as you reached the exit. You hadn’t expected your surprise to end this way, and now you felt more alone than ever. The streets added to your discomfort, seemingly more emptier than usual, with the night sky above you dark and unforgiving.

You wanted to just go home and drown in your own sorrows, preferably with a tub of ice cream, but your phone and keys. You hadn’t even realized you’d left them in the practice room.

You knew you couldn’t go back, so you wandered aimlessly, knowing you had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. It felt like the weight of his rejection was following you, echoing in your ears.

And then, as if the world had conspired against you, the rain began to pour. First, it was a few droplets, but soon it turned into a downpour, soaking you through. But you barely noticed, your mind too clouded with the sting of Jeongin’s words to focus on anything else.

You wished you hadn’t come. Wished you hadn’t tried to help him, to support him. Maybe you had overstepped. Maybe you were too much. Maybe, just like Jeongin had confirmed, you were clingy and just a burden.

Tears mixed with the rain as you stumbled down the deserted streets. You didn't even care that you were soaked to the bone. You didn’t care about anything anymore, the words of the person you most trusted hurt more than anything.

It wasn’t until you heard hurried footsteps behind you that you even registered someone was approaching. You turned, startled, only to see Jeongin, breathless and soaked, running toward you.

"Y/N!" he called, his voice filled with panic. "Y/N, wait!".

You turned back and kept walking, anger and hurt still looking in your mind. However, he caught up to you, blacking your path.

Jeongin stood there in the pouring rain, his soaked hair plastered to his forehead, the dark strands clinging to his face like the weight of his regret. His drenched jacket stuck to his body, outlining his frame, and he looked smaller than usual, like he was struggling with the enormity of what had just happened.

His eyes were wide and filled with panic as he searched your face as if he were trying to find a way to undo the damage, to take back the words that had slipped from his mouth. His lips parted slightly, as if he was trying to speak, but no words came out. The tension in his posture was so palpable, it was as if the weight of the world was on his shoulders, each raindrop a reminder of his mistake.

And yet, there was something more in his eyes than just worry. Something deeper.

Guilt.

It was written across his face in every line and every flicker of uncertainty that crossed his features. You had seen him worried before, but never like this. Never with that quiet, broken look, as though he was carrying the burden of something he couldn’t undo.

He stepped forward, his soaked shoes making soft squelching sounds against the wet pavement, but you took a step back, not wanting to get too close, not yet.

"Y/N…" His voice cracked slightly, sounding hoarse and unsure, swallowed by the sound of the rain that fell in torrents around you both. His hand reached out, but it hung in the air, trembling as if he wasn’t sure whether he had the right to touch you, whether you would let him.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, but your heart felt heavy, the anger and hurt still so fresh. "You don’t need to worry about me, Jeongin," you said softly, pulling away, "I’m fine."

"Stop," he said, his voice trembling. "I care about you. I... I didn’t mean to say those things to you earlier." His voice cracked, and for a moment, you saw how broken he looked. "I was just so tired, and I… I took it all out on you."

You shook your head, still not meeting his gaze. "It’s fine. I understand."

"No," he said urgently, his hands reaching for you, cupping your face gently to make you look at him. "No, it’s not fine. It’s not fine at all. I was stupid, Y/N. You’ve always been there for me, supporting me, and I pushed you away. I hurt you… and I never meant to."

His hands were warm against your cold cheeks, his touch almost like a lifeline. "I was just so tired. So overworked. I didn’t know what to say, and the worst thing is that none of I what I said was true. I… I’m so sorry."

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten, and for the first time since you had left, you allowed yourself to cry. The tears flowed freely, mixing with the rain that poured down, but this time, you didn’t feel as alone.

Jeongin gently wiped the tears from your face with his thumb, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never should’ve said that to you. You mean so much to me. I’m so sorry for everything."

You took a deep breath, letting his words wash over you, and nodded slowly. "I know you didn’t mean it. I just… I just want you to know you don’t have to push me away. I care about you, Jeongin. I want to help you."

He pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you as if he were trying to hold onto you, as if he were afraid you’d slip away. "I won’t push you away again. I promise. I’m so sorry."

You let yourself sink into him, the warmth of his embrace pushing away the cold of the rain. You could feel the weight lifting off your chest, the hurt slowly fading, replaced by the quiet reassurance that everything would be okay.

"I’ll always be here," you whispered, and for the first time that night, Jeongin smiled softly against your hair.

[icyg4l]

Who Wants to Kiss You Under the Mistletoe? ❄️🎄

Hello beautiful people! It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered together. But I am back and better, coming to you all with a collab with the beautiful @icanseethefuture333! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful and safe holiday season. Without further ado, please select the Destiny’s Child/Beyoncé Christmas photo that resonates with you to find out who wants to kiss you under the mistletoe :)

Pile One: You have someone from the past missing you, Pile One. I get this energy of a regretful lover who wishes to start over with you. They regret not paying as much attention to you as they should have when they were in your life. They would like to make it right. Someone here is a nursing student or could be working as a medical assistant. This plays a part into why things did not work out; busy schedules can lead to resentment down the line. I heard “you got it all wrong, dear” as I was channeling messages. It feels like you could have misconstrued this person’s intentions as childish when they weren’t. You’re tired of the games, but there weren’t any played to begin with. They just couldn’t multitask and decided to let you go. Practice patience, kindness and compassion with your next lover. They will need it. But just for future reference, keep your love connections light and upbeat. It will save your heart from serious damage.

Tarot Cards Used: The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune, Princess of Wands, 2 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Express Your Love - Go ahead and make the romantic gesture.

Flirt - Extend your lighthearted energy to others.

Stay Optimistic About Your Love Life - Positive thinking and faith will bring you romance.

extras: baked bread. finished clinicals. America. Philippines. feeling drained. Looking for partnership.

Bonus Songs: Hold Tight by Justin Bieber. Let it Go by Elsa. Pick up the phone by travis scott, young thug and migos.

Pile Two: You know exactly who this person is! You and this person have similar music tastes, probably are both into niche artists or deep cuts of popular artists. This person likes to send you cute subliminals on social media, such as posting a song dedicated to you using the note feature on Instagram. This person is very aggressive in their approach. You keep resisting this connection, but you shouldn’t! Is this person not your type? Are you scared because they have children? Are you an ashamed single parent? Are you a bored college student that needs excitement in your life? Well, just know that this is your person, and you can ask for all the signs in the world but this will end up being your lover. It is possible that you two could be in a long distance situation, however, this is not stopping your person from showing up as their best selves. If given the chance to kiss them under the mistletoe, just do it! What the hell? What could go wrong?

Tarot Cards Used: Queen of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, King of Cups.

Oracle Cards Used:

Keep an Open Mind - Your soul mate may differ from your usual type and expectations.

Children - Your love life is being affected by children.

This Could Be the One: You’ve already met the romantic partner you seek.

extras: joy. georgia. SJW. emeli sande. letting it unfold. global peace prize. traumatic past.

Bonus Songs: My Love by Justin Timberlake. Feeling Myself by Beyonce. Let Me Love You by Mario.

Pile Three: Pile Three, your person hasn’t been shy about their advances at all. This is someone who finds themself to be incredibly attractive. They could be big on partying. They’re kind of intimidating (to you). But there’s no need to be scared, love. Get out of your head and get in the field. You are not out of this person’s league. You’re simply a human being with feelings that need to be expressed. Trust, the feeling is mutual. When this eventually happens, you two could be planning on watching a movie and there will be tension between the two of you. It’s also possible that this kiss could happen in front of other people. I saw a bowl of popcorn in my third eye. This could lead to other acts, if you catch my drift. You’re a hard worker, but you deserve to experience love. There is nothing wrong with taking a break and just allowing yourself to bask in the presence of someone who makes you feel free! This person does not care about your baggage, they only care about spending time with you. So go with the flow, you control freak!

Tarot Cards Used: Strength, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands, 4 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Finances and Career - Financial issues are a factor in your love life right now.

Very Soon - Clearly decide what you want so that it comes to you now!

You Deserve Love - You are lovable!

extras: sunburnt. 11th house placements. drinking. raybans. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”

Bonus Songs: Out of My League by Fitz and the Tantrums. First Position by Kehlani.

Pile Four: As I was shuffling, I heard the word, “observant”. This person could be watching you from a distance. There is a strong connection to the Atlanta area here. You or this person could be from there. You could be visiting and vice versa. There is something about this person that brings out the girly teengirl in you, lol. This person makes you feel really giggly. This person has beautiful eyes that captivate you. They have a detached, suave demeanor to them. It seems as though they’re not real. They seem to have a level of stability in your life that you do not have, and this draws you to them. They seem to be the “perfect package” for you. As for whether or not you should kiss them, you should wait. There should be some type of buildup between the two of you. There will be some type of waiting period, of which you will endure. There could be some type of interruption (maybe a couple honestly), but the kiss will be worth it.

Tarot Cards Used: 9 of Discs. King of Cups. 8 of Cups. The Hierophant.

Oracle Cards Used:

Playfulness - To recapture romance, allow your inner youthful spirit of fun to shine!

Healing Family Issues - Your love life benefits as you forgive your parents.

Attraction - You attract romantic love by enjoying this moment fully.

extras: traveling to/from atlanta. it’s the journey. children of the corn (1984). the perfect holiday (2007). jayson tatum.

Bonus Songs: Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah. Haters by OMG Girlz. Crush by Mulatto. Check it Out by william. Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Goosebumps by Travis Scott.

[kaminocasey]

Hey! I'm gonna take advantage of your charity and incredible talent and ask me some Silco stuff, and I will make it very personal.

Im just a sucker for angsty fluff, so I was thinking something in the lines of reader works either in some restaurant where Silco goes or actually works in the last drop. And she's just having a rough couple of days and Silco finds out about it and just wants to help (maybe he gets frustrated because of it all, and goes all Silco, you know what I mean? Damn I'm gonna shut up now). But we all know Silco is not the most affectionate man, or at least shows it in weird (?) ways. I feel like it would be better (?) if they didn't have a relationship yet. But I'll leave it to your brilliance to do as you please, I have complete trust in your skills.

But remember, you don't have to do this if you don't feel like it of course.

Anyway, to much information already. So good luck, love your work, that brain of yours and you in general ❤️💙💛🤍

PS- do not allow me to make more requests, I will make them long, weird and I'll keep remembering more stuff to add and the next thing you know it's a full blown fic 🤣

Take All Your Sins

A/N: Thank you so much for your request, love!!! I was excited to do this one!!! This is going to be a two parter or MORE for SURE. <3 ilysm thank you again for your trust in me!!!

Summary: You work in the Last Drop and very close to Vander. What happens if Silco comes along and ruins that?

Pairing: Silco x Reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: Angst, sweet Silco, protective Vander, alcohol

Taglist Form | Arcane Masterlist

“If you have something else to do, I can finish those.” You come into the doorway of the kitchen, nodding toward the dishes that he’s doing. 

“I got ‘em. Almost done.” The older man smiles at you.

A few years ago, Vander gave you a place to stay when he found you out on the streets and ever since then, you were basically inseparable. His kids were like your own. 

“Rough night, huh?” Vander asks as you lean in the doorway, keeping an eye on the place in case more patrons came in. 

The Last Drop is usually busy this time of night, especially on this day of the week. But it’s like a ghost town right now and you can’t seem to figure out why.

“Rough week.” You sigh, crossing your arms. 

“Do you need a couple days off?” Vander asks, genuinely.

He always made sure you were taken care of, which you appreciate, but sometimes it feels like he does too much for others, and never lets anyone do anything for him. You’re bound to change that though. His birthday is coming up and you’ve been saving up for something special that will be from you and the kids. 

“Nah, I’m-” You start but hear the door open.

“You got it?” Vander asks and you nod with a grin and turn around to greet the customer, letting the kitchen door swing shut.

“What can I get ya?” You smile at the older man, who makes you do a subtle double take.

“Whiskey. Neat, please.” He smiles. 

He’s got dark hair, a partially scarred face, one blue eye and the other dark black with an orange iris that makes him look incredibly menacing. He’s wearing an open, fancy peacoat with a buttoned vest and tie. Who the hell is this guy?

His eyes rake over you as you approach the bar where he sits. 

“Haven’t seen you before.” You smile, politely. 

“I don’t get out much.” He takes his coat off and sits it down on the stool next to him. “I… work a lot.” 

His voice is silky and you can’t help but want to hear him say more. 

“What do you do?” You ask as you pour his drink. 

“I own my own business.” He tells you and takes the drink when you slide it to him. 

The way he says it, makes you think he doesn’t want to answer anymore questions about himself. 

“What’s your name?” He asks softly. 

You tell him and he takes a sip, keeping his blue eye on you. You smile softly, unsure of what to say.

“Pretty name.” He tells you, after he finishes off his drink. 

You go to pour him another but he puts his hand over his drink and shakes his head.

“Thanks.” You put the bottle back down and then take the empty glass from him, sitting it in the sink. “What’s yours?” 

“Silco. Do you like working here?” He asks, not missing a beat. 

You nod. “Yeah, I do.” 

“And you like Vander?” 

You nod. “Who doesn’t?” 

He chuckles, glancing around subtly. “Who doesn’t, indeed?”

“What are you doing after work?” He asks. 

Oh… of course. He thinks you’re going to put out- 

“I’m not trying to fuck you.” He tells you, as if he can read your mind while he stands up and puts his coat back on.

“You’re not?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to, but that’s not why I asked.” He smirks.

You both stare at each other for a moment. His eyes fall to your lips before coming back up to your eyes.

“So… the real reason is?” You cross your arms.

“I think you’re beautiful and I’ve not been on a proper date in years.” Silco shrugs, placing a hand on the back of the barstool. 

You go warm in the face before looking down at his slender fingers and immediately can’t help but wonder what they’d feel like inside-

“I’ll be by at 11.” He tells you, snapping your thoughts back to the present as he places a few cogs onto the bar. 

“Um. Alright.” You nod, giving a kind smile. 

He stares at you for another short moment before giving you a smile back and then leaving. Just as the door closes, Vander walks out and sees you staring at the door, breaking you out of the trance that Silco seemed to have put you in.

“Everything okay?” He asks, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You look up at him, smiling a little dreamily. It’s not something you’re used to. Normally, when customers ask you out, you brush them off and pay them no mind. But Silco… he managed to get you to pay attention. 

“All good. Um… I have a date after work.” You go warm in the face at the word ‘date’. 

It’s not like you don’t date… you do… just not consistently. The last date you went on was a year ago. It didn’t go well so you decided to just focus on work.

“With the customer that just came in? Who is he?” Vander’s eyebrows raise in surprise, knowing that you haven’t gone out with someone in a long time.

“Just… some guy.” You shrug, starting to wipe down the bar. 

Vander chuckles. “Alright. Keep your secrets. I was young once, too.”

You laugh with him, your thoughts immediately going back to Silco’s unmatching eyes and the way they softened at the sight of you. 

“You can go get ready if you want. I can finish here.” Vander smirks. 

You roll your eyes. “Thanks. I owe you.” 

“Nah. Get outta here.” He nods toward the door that leads to the upstairs. 

You pat him on the shoulder as you walk past him, heading upstairs to go shower. You look at the clock and see that it reads 9:30. That should give you plenty of time to get ready. You don’t take particularly long showers. 

As you turn on the water, you climb into the shower, letting the water flow over your body as you stand there for a moment before starting to wash your body and hair. You still can’t stop thinking about the older man. He had to be about Vander’s age, right? You wonder if they know each other. Perhaps after you get to know Silco a little more, you’ll introduce them. 

After your shower, you dry your hair the best you can and then settle on a dress that you’d saved up forever to buy just because. What better excuse to wear it than on a date with an extremely attractive, slightly intimidating, man? 

At ten til 11, you make your way back down to the bar. Vander and Benzo both let out a whistle at the sight of you.

“Don’t you clean up nice?” Vander grins. 

You shrug, going warm in the face from the attention. “I guess.” 

You sit up on the bar stool next to Benzo. You glance over at the door and then back at Vander. 

“Do you want something to loosen your nerves?” Vander teases. 

“I’m alright, thanks.” You roll your eyes, amused.

“Who’s this hot date with?” Benzo nudges you with his elbow. 

You go warm in the face all over again, thinking about Silco. “Just some older guy… he’ll be here any minute.” 

They accept that answer and continue their conversation from before about business stuff that you don’t really mind yourself with. You pretty much just show up and do your job and do exactly what Vander tells you to do and then go back upstairs and sleep. And then repeat. 

The door opens moments later, and the three of you look up to find Silco walking in. You can’t help but give him a sweet smile. He smirks at you and pauses by the door.

“Are you ready-” He starts.

“Silco.” Vander growls. 

“Hello, Vander.” Silco’s eyes fall past you to the man behind you. “Lovely establishment you have here.”

You turn to Vander, confused. “You know each other?”

“Oh yes, we do.” Silco walks toward you, wrapping an arm around your lower back, looking you up and down. “You look beautiful, darling.” 

“She’s not going anywhere with you.” Vander comes around the bar and starts toward Silco but Benzo gets up quickly from the stool and stops him. 

You look between Silco and Vander, still confused.

“I think that’s for her to decide.” Silco smirks up at Vander who stands almost a foot above him.

You turn to Vander, with furrowed brows. This man is the one who gave you life again, the man who is like a father to you. The man you owe your life to. If he says you shouldn’t go… then shouldn’t you listen to him?

[cosmicanakin]

𝐓𝐄𝐗𝐀𝐒 SKIES & 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐒 TIES

000. PROLOGUE ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ִ ݁ ♡ .

✸ 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟗𝟗𝟓; the first time you and jensen met.

PAIRING. cowboy!jensen x female reader ꒱

SYNOPSIS. in a stormy december of '95, your world shifts when jensen arrives at your family's ranch. what starts with an awkward meeting becomes something unexpectedly sweet.

WARNING(S). awkward first meeting | subtle flirting | hand-holding | jealousy | mentions of small town gossip | unrequited feelings | peer pressuring parents (?) | ranch work | storm preparation | self-consciousness | social anxiety.

kari yaps. hiii there, i feel SO soso happy n giddy inside, seeing all of u as excited as i am for this new series !!!! i'll try my best to keep up w it, esp this upcoming week for xmas <3 & if it isnt finished by then, hopefully by new years it is. HOWEVER, if it isnt done once the new year rolls in, someone yell @ me, i give u full permission !!!!! im crossing my fingers, though. n e ways :) love yall smmm <3

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. ୨ৎ 𝐉𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘.

DECEMBER brought the kind of cold that made texas feel foreign. you weren't expecting company that morning, which explained your current state: sleep shorts, an old long sleeve baby tee that had seen better days, and crew socks that reached above your ankles. your hair was a mess, tangled from sleep, but you didn't care—until your dad's voice boomed through the house.

"honey, alan's boy is here to help with the storm prep!"

you froze, halfway through pouring your coffee. through the kitchen window, you caught sight of a red chevy pickup truck pulling up, and your stomach dropped. everyone knew alan ackles' son—jensen was practically dallas royalty when it came to ranch families.

"coming!" you called back, but it was too late. the screen door creaked open, and there he stood: tall, broad-shouldered, in worn jeans and boots, his green eyes catching yours immediately.

"jensen, this is my daughter," your dad said, clapping him on the shoulder. "sweetheart, this is jensen."

you wanted to die right there, especially when his lips curved into a slight smirk. "nice to meet you," he drawled, his voice deep and warm. "nice pajamas."

your face heats up in embarrassment. "i wasn't exactly expecting visitors at seven in the morning."

"storm's not gonna wait for proper attire, darlin'," your dad chuckled. "why don't you go get dressed? you're helping us today."

"what? dad, no—"

"actually," your mom chirped, appearing from nowhere like she always did when there was potential for embarrassment, "if you help today, we can hit the mall this afternoon."

you narrowed your eyes. "promise?"

"cross my heart."

yeah, you're never going to the mall.

twenty minutes later, properly dressed in jeans and boots, you found yourself trailing behind jensen and your dad toward the stables. the horses needed tending first—they were always priority during storms.

"beauty's been real fussy lately," your dad was saying. "might need extra attention."

"i can handle the horses," you offered quickly. anything to avoid more awkward interaction with jensen.

your dad nodded. "good idea. jensen and i'll check the fencing. don't forget to clean their areas too."

you watched them head off, relief flooding through you until beauty, your black mare, nudged your shoulder. "i know, girl," you muttered. "i'm a mess."

the next hour passed peacefully enough. most of the horses were being difficult—storm weather always made them antsy—but beauty kept them in line with warning neighs whenever they got too rowdy. you were halfway through brushing down the last horse when boots scuffed against the stable floor behind you.

"need any help?"

you jumped, spinning around to find jensen leaning against one of the stalls. "jesus, wear a bell or something."

he laughed, pushing off the frame and walking over. "your dad said to come check on you. more workers showed up to help with the heavy lifting."

"'m fine," you said quickly, turning back to the horse. "almost done."

"you sure? because that one looks about ready to bite."

as if on cue, the horse snapped its teeth, and you jerked back. jensen stepped forward, his chest brushing your back as he reached for the brush. "here," he murmured, his breath warm against your ear. "let me."

you stepped aside, watching as he effortlessly calmed the horse with a few gentle strokes. "show off."

"nah," he grinned. "just been doing this since i could walk. your ranch is different though. bigger than ours."

"yeah?" you leaned against the stable wall. "how so?"

and just like that, the awkwardness melted away. jensen told you about his family's ranch, about learning to ride before he could properly run, about the differences in how each ranch operated. by the time your dad called everyone in for dinner, you'd almost forgotten about your embarrassing first meeting.

your mom, ever the hostess, had prepared enough food to feed an army. neighbors started arriving, filling your house with chatter and laughter. you showered and changed, choosing a soft sweater and clean jeans, your hair finally tamed.

"movie time!" someone called after dinner, and suddenly the living room was full of kids your age, all piling onto couches to watch christmas reruns.

you tucked yourself into the corner of the couch, trying to take up as little space as possible. but then jensen sat next to you, his thigh pressing against yours despite the space on his other side. you tried to scoot away, give him room, but he just moved closer.

"cold?" he whispered, and before you could answer, his hand found yours.

your palm went instantly clammy. across the room, you caught daisy oliver's glare—everyone knew she had a thing for jensen, had been trying to catch his eye for months. you tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened.

"relax," he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "this okay?"

you nodded, unable to form words, and spent the rest of the night hyper-aware of every small movement of his hand against yours.

the next morning, you hid in your room, avoiding the inevitable goodbye when his dad came to pick him up. you'd heard the rumors about him and daisy so holding his hand felt like crossing a line you hadn't meant to cross.

you didn't know then that jensen had never looked twice at her. didn't know that he had spend the whole ride home telling his dad about the girl in pajamas who'd caught his eye. didn't know that this was just the beginning.

𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 taglist. @deanswidow @a1ecmcdowell @beausling @titsout4jackles @frosttbitessam @aileenunfiltered @deansbite @jasvtsc @fallbhind @ostaramoon @lacydollette @ultravi0lence14 @rubyvhs ◟ ☆ ݁ ⋆ 🏇 ˚⊹ ˖ ﾟ✶ ݁. comment OR send an ask to be added / removed !!!!!

𝐂𝐎𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 © 2024. ✶ please DO NOT copy or plagiarize my works.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know you? Part 5

Jason Todd x reader

Synopsis: You meet Tim and Steph, Jason is not happy about it.

Notes: Some drama is finally here brought to you by Tim and Steph. This is the power of embarrassing a sibling.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

The past week had been… odd. And that was putting it nicely. True to his word, the next evening was filled with Red Hood replacing your window locks with newer fancy ones attached to an “Out of date” alarm system (his words not yours). He showed you how to set it up and how to attach it to your phone, so if anyone got in while you were away you would know. It seemed a bit excessive to you, living on the sixth floor and all but he was adamant about it, so you let him. He told you if you wanted him to come in and share tea you would have to leave the window unlocked for a frame of time. If he didn’t show in that frame of time, you were to lock the window anyway.

“No later, understand?” He had ordered gruffly, and you had just shrugged. You’re pretty sure he rolled his eyes in response, but you couldn’t see them. In the days following he showed up every day even if it were just for a couple minutes. Sometimes you shared food, sometimes just tea. If he stayed for longer than a few minutes, you would sit amicably at the dining table or at the island. Sometimes in comfortable silence and sometimes conversing about your days, mostly you than him. You finally settled into a routine. After his visit, you would get ready for bed and repeat the day over.

Work at Jackie’s was booming. With the fall season in full swing, people came in requesting pumpkin this and pumpkin that, only to be disappointed to find out Jackies only had one pumpkin item and that was pumpkin bread. It was a blast. You kept up with the regulars and Darla would edge her way around you, collecting gossip. Over the next week and a half, she would sporadically bother you about if you had gotten Jason’s number or if you had fallen in with some other guy. She said she saw some of the signs of a guy but wasn’t too sure. When you asked what she meant she didn’t offer you any explanation.

It was a Thursday when you met Steph. When she came in, you mentally prepared yourself for another no-pumpkin showdown. You try not to judge a book by its cover, but her blonde hair and purple athleisure made it hard not to.

“Hi, Welcome to Jackie’s. What can I get for you?” your lips twitch into a customer service smile. She grins at you like this was the most excitement she had had all day.

“Hi, I’m Steph. How are you?” she asks politely.

“I’m good. What can I get for you?” she sags slightly at your shutdown of the conversation. Overly friendly new customers in Gotham were never good. They usually wanted something.

“Right,” she perks back up, “One hot chocolate and one black coffee.” She pauses for a moment while you put in the system. When you look back up, she asks “Do you know Jason?”

The sudden question slightly takes you aback and don’t answer, so she continues.

“He's about this tall,” she holds her hand in the air, “black hair, looks like he could punch a brick wall.” You nod slowly and she smiles, “Great, where does he usually sit?”

You point to the table nook he usually hides in, and she nods, “We’ll sit there. I heard that you bring the drinks out?” You nod again, still confused about this girl. No Pumpkin spice latte, and she knows Jason? Strange.

“How much do I owe you?” you finally snap out of your stupor. She pays, you thank her and tell her it will be out momentarily. She turns and greets a lean boy as he walks through the door. She tugs him to the booth quickly and they talk to each other in hushed tones, both glancing up at you occasionally. You try to ignore them as you stumble through making the two easiest items on the menu.

You glance up when the bell dings and a smile flits across your lips when you see Jason before it turns into a frown as he frowns. His eyes staring at his now occupied table. You pause in your task and come up to the register as he takes a few slow steps towards it.

“You okay?” you ask as you glance at the two at the table. They’re looking at Jason like they’ve won the lottery.

“Did they talk to you?” He ignores your own question.

“She did. Only to order though. Do I need to call the cops?”

Jason snorts at the question, “Yeah that’ll go well. She just ordered? She didn’t ask you anything?”

You give him a strange look. What is with people and odd questions today?

“She just asked where you sit. Sorry, I gave you away.”

He breaks his glare from them and meets your eye with a softness.

“It’s okay, Sweetheart. They would’ve figured it out even if you hadn’t given it to them.” Your heart flutters at the pet name. He had called you that the few times you had seen him since your walk home and it was starting to get to you.

“You want me to dump out their drinks and just make yours?” you ask as you try to force your focus away from the warmth on your cheeks.

“And ruin your hard work?” his eyes stare into your own and he finally breaks it when you hear giggles from your spies. You drop your chin down. “It’s okay,” he repeats, “I’ll sit with them.” He nods at you and heads for the table. The two sat there leaning together and whispering. You wonder who they are and how Jason knows them.

You get to work make the drinks, no longer stumbling, and with bounce your step. Darla stands next to you with a smug smile and makes some refills for customers.

“You could have asked for his number when he was alone but now there are people. Your poor self won't ever be able to do it.” She says teasingly.

“Thank you, Darla,” you say with an eye roll as you load the drinks on the tray. You take your time to meander to the table as Jason looks like he's berating the two that sit across from him. It doesn’t look like it's working as they both sit there with smug grins. You set the tray on the table and all eyes are on you. You keep your own eyes down as you move the drinks from the tray to the table. Your eyes try to catch Jason’s book for the day because you know you won't be asking like you normally do. You pull the tray from the table and rest it between your side and your arm.

“Anything else I can get you?” you glance at the two but meet Jason's eye. He looks flushed, possibly upset. Steph speaks up.

“No that’s okay. What was your name again?” she says like you had already told her. You break eye contact with Jason and look at her. She’s smiling and you can't find any malice in it, so you tell her. She nods like she already knows and points to the boy sitting next to her.

“This is Tim,” she points to Jason, “and obviously you already know Jason.” You hear a quiet thud from under the table and Tim flinches but smirks as he looks at Jason.

“You missed,” he turns to look up at you, “It's nice to meet you fin-” he cuts himself off and you wonder what the last word was.

You nod politely, “you too,” you say and look at Jason again for some explanation and a defeated look crosses his features as he shrugs.

“Brother” is all Jason gives, and you nod in semi-understanding. Based on the few mentions of family in passing conversations, you had always guessed he had a tense relationship with them.

“I didn’t know you had siblings.”  You look back at the two. Tim and Jason could definitely be brothers. Aside from their stature and slight skin tone difference, everything else is similar. Black hair, blue eyes. Though you would argue that Jason’s were prettier because they were green sometimes. Not that it mattered. Your eyes meet Stephs again. Blonde hair, green eyes, bright smile. Very different looking than the two boys.

“Are you the only girl in the family?”

Steph makes a gagging sound, “I’m not family, Thank God!” Tim snorts at her over dramatics.

“I’m sorry.” Your face flushes slightly as you flounder, “Then what…?” Your hand gestures to them all sitting at the table.

Jason's eyes narrow on your embarrassed state.

“Don’t worry, she’s just a leech.”

“Hey!”

“Would you mind getting me one of those chocolate croissants?”

You shift on your feet with a look of confusion. He never asks for anything else. You nod, “Sure, anything else for the table?”

Tim looks like he’s about to ask for something, but Jason cuts him off with a glare. Instead, he shakes his head no. You hesitantly step away from the table but take your time going back to the kitchen to pull out one of the chocolate croissants and warm it up. Your eyes periodically glance back at the table. They crouch over the table and talk to each other. You worry for a moment that they’re talking about you and then decide that it doesn’t really matter. You had only met Tim and Steph today. Their opinion of you was worthless and You knew Jason wasn’t one for gossiping about others. You’ve watched Darla try and fail. Once you finally make it back over to the table with the croissant, Tim and Steph are gone leaving their half-full drinks on the table.

As you set the plate on the table you ask, “Scare them off?”

Jason lets out a sigh.

“If only. I’m sorry if they made you uncomfortable.” You shake your head in response.

“I'm sorry I made assumptions before I had all the information. I hope I didn’t offend.”

“I doubt you could ever offend anyone sweetheart” Your cheeks warm again.

“That’s not true I work in a public job, and I offend people all the time just standing” you joke. Jason smiles and nods.

“That’s fair. How could you be so lazy?” he teases. You giggle.

 “Speaking of lazy, I should get back to work.” You point a thumb over your shoulder where a man leaves a table full of dishes.

“What time do you get off?” he asks. Your body freezes mid-turn at his abrupt question.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to” he adds on, “I just enjoyed walking with you the other day and I parked my bike around the same area again, so I thought maybe…” He trails off his own cheeks flushing. Your body relaxes as you look at your watch to think. He had convenient timing; you were off soon. It was nice having someone to walk with and it wouldn’t hurt to see him on his bike again. You nod with warmed cheeks.

“I get off in about thirty minutes if you don’t mind waiting?” you say as your eyes meet his. He nods, smiling.

“It’ll give me time to read.” He lifts his book that was sitting on the table, the cover reading Pride and Prejudice.

“Again?” You can't help but ask. He looks at the book cover and rolls his eyes.

“You really want to have this conversation again?” you shake your head quickly at his question.

“I'll see you in thirty minutes.” With that, you walk away from him and throw yourself into your finishing tasks.

Additional notes: This was originally a much longer chapter but I decided to split it up. So, the next chapter is about them walking home. I have to tell you I cannot wait for ya’ll to read the next one cause I got carried away for like three seconds and had to do some backtracking. The plot was happening where I didn’t want it. I loved having Tim and Steph involved in this and just not being subtle about anything. Jason may have tried to kill Tim once but that won't stop him from being a little shit. Thank you for your love guys. This has been such an interesting experience, so the support has been lovely. Tag List: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs, @uzxotic, @qardasngan, @stormz369, @g4bbi3xx 

[tkwrites]

Soft Launch; Hard Launch - Quinn Hughes x ofc

gif from @kawhh

Title: Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts (ofc) 

Warnings: Though most of this is fluff, there is a really nasty comment left on a social media post and mentions of poor self body image.

Summary: 4 times Quinn soft launched his relationship with Sarah, and one time he did it for real.

Word Count: 2,900

Comments: The idea of writing a 4+1 fic for my 500 mark has been rolling around my head for a while, so when I hit 500 followers about a week ago, I thought I'd try my hand at it. Many thanks to @aloragrace and @captainlexaproluvr for looking over this piece and calming my fears about doing new things. I’ve never written in this format before, but I quite like the way this turned out.  I’d love to know what you think!

I'm just bowled over and so excited! Thank you all so much. Knowing people enjoy my writing has been so fulfilling to me. I’ve wanted to write since I was about thirteen, but never had the guts to publish anything for people other than my friends to read. Now that I have and know that people like it, it feels a bit like I’m giving my little inner awkward teenager the best gift she could ever ask for. Thank you for your encouragement, kindness, and support! I can’t tell you how much it means to me.  

If you did enjoy this Snapshot, please let me know by commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask. Your encouragement and comments truly inspire me to keep writing. 

Soft Launch; Hard Launch: A 500 Follower Celly

A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot 

1.

The first time Quinn put Sarah on his social media was after they got home from the family reunion. The Monday after she left, he was looking back through his photos while he waited for her to get off work. He found one from their beach day he’d completely forgotten he’d taken. Sarah was kneeling over a tide pool with a few of his cousins, pointing to something in the water, while they looked into her face with rapt attention.

Even though her face was mostly hidden from view, she looked beautiful in that casual way he loved so much. Her hair was up in a bun, and she was wearing a pair of denim shorts along with her orange swim top.

Do you mind if I put this on my stories? he asked later that night, once she'd texted that she’d arrived home safely and would call as soon as she changed.

“I don’t mind,” she told him after they said their initial hellos, caught up on each other's day, and he asked again. “I’m a little surprised this is the first photo you want to go with,” she admitted. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know. I thought maybe you’d want to go with something more…” she trailed off, unsure exactly how to phrase what she was thinking. She’d only glanced at it, but from what she remembered, the photo wasn’t anything special. It was from the tide pools, and though it fulfilled the mission of showing her without showing her whole face, she didn’t look excessively beautiful or anything. In fact, the first thing she’d zeroed in on were her stomach rolls. Echoes of girls calling her too fat to be with NHL superstar Quinn Hughes rang in her mind. 

“I like it,” he defended before she could find the right words or slide down the slippery slope of body image woes. “You’re doing what you love.” 

It melted something in her that he looked at that photo and saw her passion. “That’s really sweet, Quinn.” 

“So it’s okay?” 

How could she say no now? “Yeah. It’s okay.”  She reminded herself she wouldn’t see any of the things people were saying about her unless she sought them out, which she had no intention of doing.

He put it up with nothing more than an orange heart in the corner as soon as they hung up from the FaceTime call.

Less than a minute later, Eunice raced into Sarah's room. She was so overly excited, she ran into the door jam, bouncing off of it before regaining her balance. She thrust her phone into Sarah's face. “Quinn put you on his stories!” 

Glancing at the screen, Sarah smiled. “Yeah, he just asked me if he could put that photo up.”

“Oh my god. This is so dreamy,” she gushed, turning the phone back around to look at the picture again. “You look so pretty.” 

2.

The second soft launch was on his main feed at the end of the summer, though he still didn’t show her face.

It wasn’t until they got home from Hawaii and all shared their photos that Quinn realized just how many pictures his mom had taken. He was used to her snapping pictures of them - it was a very common occurrence to look around at any given moment, especially on vacation, to find her brandishing a camera to document everything she could.

He’d never appreciated it more until he was looking through the shared album and saw all the moments his mom caught. There were photos of him and his brothers and him and Sarah once she got there. There was even a video of his and Luke’s shock at their girlfriends’ arrival.  

His favorite picture she took was from the beach outside of their vacation rental. Anxious for a quiet moment together, Sarah pulled him outside to watch the sun set.

The rest of the family was inside, debating something about dinner. They had been on a kayak and hiking tour that day, and he was so tired, he was beyond caring. As long as some kind of food was provided, he’d be fine.  

His mom must have walked out onto the back porch to snap the photo. 

 The sun, sinking into the ocean in front of them, turned them into shadow as Sarah leaned her head on his shoulder. It was the kind of photo people put in vacation advertisements, and when he’d seen it, he knew it had to be included in his end of summer review.

He uploaded it with a carousel of six other photos before captioning the post, One for the books. 

After receiving sixty notifications in the first five minutes, most of them from people he didn’t know asking who the girl in the 5th photo was, he muted the app.

It wasn’t until he looked at the comments that evening and saw, I think this must be that fat bitch he was dating during the season. I was hoping they’d broken up since he didn’t stay in Vancouver this summer and she did, that he disabled comments all together.

He’d been so angry that someone who didn’t know either of them would say anything like that, he had drafted a reply before realizing he was about to engage in a reactionary argument with someone he didn't even know or have any emotional ties to. He wanted to correct them, but knew he should really get PR help to do that. 

When they talked about social media for the first time in their relationship, Sarah explained how the comments from these so-called fans made her feel. Even though she knew they didn’t know her as a person and didn’t have any place in their relationship or lives, it was difficult not to let them get to her. 

He knew the feeling well. He’d gone through the same thing when he accepted the captaincy. The pressure to perform had been so immense, it had turned him into a snappy, short-fused, irritable person until, at the advice of some other captains in the league, he started putting his phone down regularly. 

3. 

The third came when it was his turn to sit for a 32 Thoughts podcast episode with Elliott and Kyle, and they were shooting the breeze before the actual interview began. 

“We missed you at dinner,” Elliott said, referencing a banquet that the league had hosted the night before for all players and press on site for the whirlwind pre-season media tour.

Without really thinking about it, Quinn found himself explaining, “my girlfriend's family lives here, so Jack and I had dinner with them last night.”

“She's not here?” Elliott asked. 

“No, she has stuff going on back home so she couldn't be, but it was nice to see them.” Some players brought family to the media tour, but not many. It was a short stint, shorter than most road trips during the season, so most didn’t bother.

Their producer, Shanna, flashed a red light, letting them know it was time to start the formal interview. Kyle counted down, “three two and one,” before introducing Quinn and starting with the questions. 

At the end of the recording, both Elliott and Shanna asked if he wanted them to cut his talk about his girlfriend and her family from the episode. Usually, they left those anecdotal conversations in, especially on the youtube videos, but this one was a bit more nuanced. 

“I think it should be fine, but can I talk to her about it and get back to you?” 

“Of course,” Shanna said, smiling. “It’s not slated to go up for a few weeks, so just let us know by the 17th.”

When he'd asked Sarah about it that night after arriving home, she seemed unconcerned. 

“I think that's kind of up to you.” She knew from their FaceTime conversation the night before that Quinn, Jack and their agent had eaten at Rachel's house, so there was no risk of someone posting photos and making the connection they were with her family.  

“I mean, people have been speculating you have a girlfriend, right?” she asked. 

“Yeah.” It was more than speculation at this point - most people knew he had someone. They just didn’t know who she was. 

“And people who found my instagram already know I’m from Nevada, so I don’t really see what the worry is.” 

He’d expected her to be more worried about it, but now that she was responding to him with cool logic, he had to admit she had a point. 

The next day, he messaged Elliott along with his agent to let them know they could keep the anecdote in the recording. 

When it hit the airwaves, Sarah purposefully didn’t check any of the messages Eunice sent her for a few days. Eunice had taken it upon herself, and continued at Sarah’s request, to report big gossip to her so Sarah wasn’t tempted to go on the blogs or fan accounts. 

Most responses were sort of victorious bragging, posting about connections with Sarah’s instagram “about me” section where she talked about being from Nevada, feeling that this interview proved them right. 

4. 

The fourth time wasn’t planned. 

When Quinn got home from their first regular season road trip, the apartment was dark. It was past two in the morning, and Sarah had a therapy appointment at eight, so she hadn't waited up for him. 

In his trek through the apartment, he paused by the dining room table. Until Sarah moved in, walking into the apartment after a road trip was often the worst part of the whole thing. He was always glad to be back in his own bed, but nothing seemed to exasperate his singleness more than coming home. Not only was he going from being surrounded by the team to being totally alone, he was coming home to an empty house. The combination of the two felt stiflingly lonely.

The mess of textbooks, highlighters, and notebooks left out on the dining room table was such proof of someone else living in the house, it made his chest feel full. 

In a spur of the moment act, he snapped a picture of the dimly lit chaos and posted it to his Instagram stories. No caption, no explanation. Just the simple proof that he wasn't alone.  

“Why did you put a picture of my books on your instagram?” she asked the next day after getting home from her appointment. 

He shrugged, “I liked it.”

The season before, anytime she would study at his house, she would clean everything up, organizing it all back into her bag before going home or coming to bed. 

Now, her books often stayed out on the dining room table on weekends. He offered to convert one of the spare bedrooms into an office for her, or let her use the office he had a computer in now, but she turned him down. 

“I like studying out here,” she'd said, glancing up to look out of the windows. “If it bothers you, I can put everything away.” 

“It doesn't bother me,” he'd said, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I just want you to be comfortable here.” 

She had beamed at him and turned her head to brush her mouth over his. 

5. 

Quinn waited until the one year anniversary of the day he and Sarah met to officially announce their relationship. 

He knew by that time that they could go the distance. He'd seen her through every month and every season and saw no major red flags. Not to mention the fact that everyone in his life liked her, and her family and friends seemed to like him.

Over the course of the year, he'd moved pictures he liked of Sarah and pictures he liked of them together into a favorites album he simply called S. So, in late January, he put together a post and sent it to his PR rep to look over. After they sent it back with some edits, he showed it to Sarah. 

Sarah, who for her part, knew this was coming but wasn’t quite sure what to expect, was taken a bit off guard. She knew Quinn read a lot and was thoughtful with his words, but reading his simple summary of their relationship made her melt. 

He’d included 5 pictures of her that were interspersed with 5 pictures of them together. The first photo was that perfect, golden hour sunset selfie. The rest were all photos she knew he loved. She’d seen some of them, and some of them, she hadn’t. There was a candid shot of her laughing with Jack and Luke that she hadn’t seen before as well as a picture she never knew he’d taken of her sitting at the dining room table with her laptop, looking pensively at the screen, fingers poised to type. There was the photo of them in front of their Christmas tree, and one of them laughing so hard, they were falling all over each other on a beach in Hawaii.

Under the photos, he’d simply written, The best year. and tagged her in the final photo - the dreamy picture Kaitlyn had taken of them under the mistletoe. 

“Quinn,” she breathed, looking up to find him smiling expectantly at her.

“You like it?” he asked. 

“I really like it,” she said, fighting back the tears that pushed at her eyes. 

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

He was ready for the world to know that not only was he taken, he was taken with her, and not afraid to say it, but he knew it would likely open up another door of criticism she’d never been exposed to before. 

“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “I’m ready.” 

The fact that Quinn wanted the world to know, without a doubt, that she was the one he was with made her heart race. 

They didn’t have to hide anymore. To her, it was the last, final cementing block in their relationship. It spoke of his faith in their future and his dedication to staying with her. He wouldn't put it out for the world to see if he had any doubts. 

He posted it right before practice two days later so he could work the anxiety of it off. 

When he got back to his locker an hour and a half later, he had 1,654 likes and over 200 comments. At first glance, they all seemed positive. Not that what random strangers thought of him meant much, but it was nice to know his fans were happy he was happy. 

Bonus scene: 

On the afternoon of the anniversary of their one year of meeting, Reece stopped Sarah as she walked into the building after work.

“I’ve got a delivery for you, Ms. Roberts,” he said, walking with her over to the security desk. 

Before he’d even picked them up, Sarah knew it must be the large bouquet of flowers that were an absolute riot of color - purple and yellow, red and pink, white and green. 

Quinn was out of town - playing in Toronto at that very moment, in fact - and she knew he must have sent them in place of being there in person. 

“Thank you, Reece,” she said, accepting the flowers and a card from him before heading upstairs. 

Trying to manage the vase, card, and her school bag, as well as press the button in the elevator, resulted in her accidentally slopping a large amount of water down her front. Thankfully, the large bouquet hid the spill from anyone else in the elevator, and she was the only one to get off on the top floor. Upon entering the apartment, she set the vase and card on the bar and went straight up to change. 

It wasn’t until she wandered down to make dinner during the second intermission and saw the bright flowers that she remembered the card. 

Her full name was on the envelope in someone else’s writing, and the front of the card was completely blank, so when she flipped it open, she was surprised to find Quinn’s handwriting filling most of it. 

It’s been one year since I took refuge in the aquarium, only to stumble upon a beautiful woman giving a talk about octopus and took the chance to ask her out. Back then, I just thought she was one of the most beautiful people I’d ever seen. Now I know that not only is she beautiful, she’s smart, kind, supportive and so driven she inspires me to do better. I don’t like to think what my life would be like if she’d turned down my offer for lunch, or I didn’t get up the guts to talk to her. This time with her has been a whirlwind and the best year of my life. 

I wrote this for the caption of the post that went up today, then realized the only person I really wanted to read it was you. 

Happy one year of meeting, Sarah. I’m so glad you took a chance and went out with me even though I was more than a little awkward. 

I love you. 

Love, 

Quinn 

Moved to tears by his thoughtful words, Sarah snapped a picture of the flowers to put up on her stories, adding the caption, Love you, @_quinnhughes, before texting him.

I love you. I can’t believe it’s been a year. Here’s to a million more.

Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist

To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist

[ghost-proofbaby]

thinking about how eddie munson probably has a ridiculous collection of guitar picks. little jars of them. some collected at shows, some he picked up for a nickel at the only local music shop he's ever trusted to do work on his Sweetheart, some he was gifted for free at his local record shop that he's been frequenting for years now. the little old man running the record shop even gets excited when new vinyls are sent out with promotional merch, and he knows it's a band or musician eddie is into. probably even called eddie in at times and handed him a handful of metallica themed pics, hardly worth much, but solely because "i knew you like them and will find a good use for these, son".

my point is, he's got a pick for every occasion. shitty plastic thin ones for just fucking around with. thicker, nicer ones that might have been proper holiday gifts to him. the kind that are meant to hook on his fingers like rings (he tried using them a few times, especially for rifts, but ended up saying he played better when he felt the strings against his skin instead while picking away). novelty ones, ones that just looked plain cool. so on and so forth.

and he's got his collection just sitting in little jars across his room. he used to keep them in other things, like old ash trays or tin cans he'd cut and mold to be good containers. but then he started dating you, and you insisted on lending him any empty jars you weren't using. you had your own collections in yours: pretty stones found down by the creek, bottle caps of the sodas you and eddie get every time you stop at the gas station right on the edge of town by lover's lake - you even had one of every single crumpled up note eddie had ever given you over your time of dating. a few jars of those, actually. so what was lending him a few spares? at this point, the jars were a collection in themselves, and... well... it was prettier to see his vast collection in those glass jars anyways. being able to pick out the vibrant tones of the guitar pick you'd been with him as he'd purchased two weeks prior, or the pick from the show you'd gotten him tickets to last christmas. it was nice. a cute reminder of time spent, of what made eddie munson tick.

the important thing is, eddie munson isn't blind. he sees the way you look at that collection, especially after he fills the jars with it.

how some days, he'll be strumming away on his guitar, softly humming, and you'll just grab a jar to pick through. interrupting his nonsensical playing to ask him where he got one you didn't recognize, sometimes asking for the stories behind ones he knew you already knew. he'd caught on to the way you just liked hearing him talk, especially about the things he cared most about.

you also really, really liked the pick he wore as a necklace. it was probably your favorite in his collection, and you knew it was his favorite too. giving it as a gift to you was never an option, because it had been given as a gift to him originally by his mom.

so he does the next best thing.

he figures out your favorite pick in his collection. the one you always go back to, the one you ask for the story behind on a nearly weekly basis. one similar to the one always resting against his collarbones. pearly sheen, marbled tones, a slow indent the shape of his thumb being worn into the old tortoiseshell. it's a little less red, a little bit brighter, and he can't even strum it against his strings anymore without thinking of you. it's somehow become his lucky pick - the pick he cherishes most aside the one from his mom.

and the one he chooses to turn into a necklace, for you.

does it all himself. carefully piercing a hole through the top just like his own, picks out a nice chain that costs two paychecks of his, takes an old pocket knife to it and spends weeks carving your initials into the shiny material. he's gentle as hell with it, finishing it off with some gold paint to fill in the carving that matches the chain and swirling tones of the picks.

a week before christmas he nearly backs out of the gift idea, and almost begs wayne to help him go to the mall and pick out some other basic but safe gift for you. a perfume/cologne, a nice sweater, anything. wayne refuses to let him, and the only thing the gentle old man will offer is a nice box for eddie to place that necklace born of love into.

the look on your face on christmas morning, sitting in the center of the munson's living room, on the verge of happy tears as you lift the homemade necklace so gently, soothes away every single doubt ever had about it all.

and the look on wayne's face is a simple, caring, stern vision of i told you so.

[kinda-indecisive]

･˳ . ⋆ .˳⋆ Face Kisses pt. II ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆･˳

Basically how I imagine their reactions to an onslaught of face kisses from you (MC). Fluff.

Part 2: The Rafayel and Sylus Edition!

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Rafayel

Enjoying the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest against your ear, you are already comfortably nestled into your spot on his lap, arms lazily hung around his neck as he continues to flip quietly through the gallery catalog over your head.

A catalog Thomas had sent Rafayel to review a week ago, which you feel kinda guilty about.

Usually, Thomas can trust you to keep Raf in check, pushing him to slough through the boring stuff so that the two of you can spend the rest of your time together doing other, more exciting things. This past week, however, you had been having a really frustrating time dealing with a particularly nasty group of Wanderers that kept reappearing at the most inopportune times and locations. And, when you showed up in his studio, he noticed something was off instantly.

He’d taken it on as his duty to pull you out of your slump of frustration, dragging you from marketplace to marketplace, shop to shop, beach to beach, hoping to get your mind off of those “creativity sucking Wanderers with bad attitudes”. And that was just on the first day. All week, he’s been there the second you wake up, chattering excitedly about where you two were off to next. And, in all honesty, having him around has kinda helped.

And although you didn’t say it out loud, he sensed this, too. Hence the only reason he has finally given you a second to breathe, curled up in his lap on the sofa, the beach breeze gently blowing at the white curtains, and the only other movement in the room being his occasional page turning.

When he hums softly in disdain at something, you are snapped out of your comfy daze.

You really do appreciate how much effort he puts in to make you feel better at times like these. And even though he insists on brushing it off as no big deal (“I already needed to make a trip to this shop, cutie, you just saved me from having to go alone” ), you know that his actions have always spoken much louder, and much more clearly, than his words.

Your heart nearly bursts at how true the thought is and you shift in his lap to look down at him.

He groans loudly, setting the catalog aside, his eyebrows furrowed as he pouts up at you, “Why are you moving around so much? I was perfectly comfortable staying how we were before and I’ll never get any work done if you keep squirming…”

He continues to pout, even when you take his face between your palms. Such a nice face belonging to someone with such a good heart. An absolutely gorgeous face, even if he does keep that indignant little scowl and crease between his brows.

You kiss this space between his brows first, which makes his eyebrows raise in surprise. But before he even has a chance to collect himself from this initial surprise, you continue planting small kisses to cover the rest of his face, making sure to leave no space neglected.

“Alright, alright,” he says once you’ve already finished, clearing his throat and turning his face away, “You’re treating me like some kind of puppy. I’m not your pet, y’know.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and pretends to be annoyed, his face still turned away. His refusal to look you in the eye, however, only gives you a better view of his bright red ears and cheeks, betraying exactly how he feels about the attention he just received.

“Oh? Well, I guess if you didn’t like that, I shouldn’t do it ever again. I admittedly still don’t know much about what kind of behavior is accepted in Lemuria. And I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything,” you say, pretending to get up from his lap.

He catches your wrist and gently pulls you back down, giving you that signature head tilt and grin when he reassures you.

“Aw, well, I get it. You are still pretty new to this Lemurian thing. Besides, it wasn’t too horrible,” he says, his hair falling in front of his eyes. He swipes it away nonchalantly, continuing, “I could maybe suffer through such treatment once or twice a month. Or a week. Or even once a day if you really felt the strong desire to. You humans and your customs are weird, but I can be a good sport about some of them.”

“No, no, there’s no need,” you continue to tease, pretending to stand once again, “I really should be more mindful when it comes to these kinds of things.”

“No, I insist. As a matter of fact…” he says, catching your wrist again and tugging you back down to sit in his lap, simultaneously managing to wrap his arms around you to prevent you from getting up again, “...dontcha think it’s my turn to give this newfound custom a try?”

+:★:+* *+:★:+* +:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+* *+:★+:★:+* *+:★

Sylus

When you arrive at the N109 Zone, it’s almost noon. Therefore you aren’t surprised that Sylus is still in his room, is still asleep, and is not quite ready to compromise that sleep for anyone or anything.

You know that technically doesn’t include you, but you don’t want to ruin his rest, so you leave him be for now. Instead, you decide to check out some more rooms in this grand house.

Your visits to the N109 zone have been much more frequent, despite this past week apart. But before this last week, you had come and gone with a frequency that Sylus had finally seemed pleased with.

In that time, you had familiarized yourself with many of the rooms of this mansion already. That being said, you could almost swear that Sylus brought in something new every single day, so there’s always something new to discover on your visits.

And now you find yourself faltering before a suit of armor you hadn’t noticed before. It must have been pure white at one time, but now has gone dark from wear, age, and transportation. The armor wasn’t made for someone of Sylus’s size, and you wonder what about it made him want to add it to his collection. You try to resonate with it to get something off of it, but nothing really happens.

Soon, however, you grow tired of the silent house and the suit of armor. You figure that a small nap never hurt anyone. Besides, it feels like you haven’t seen Sylus in ages, even though it’s only been a week. A long, tedious week of Wanderers and stuck up clients who you sometimes thought about leaving to fend off the Wanderers themselves.

Slipping into his bedroom, his bedside lamp is on. The dim light casts strange shadows around the room, but softly illuminates the man on the bed.

Walking around the bed, you crawl onto the mattress and begin to make yourself comfy, trying to do it slowly so you don’t disturb he who breathes deeply beside you. Once settled, you roll over to face him.

His normally strong features look so soft in this lighting, and his brow is furrowed slightly in his sleep, his expression one of a man concerned. Your heart aches a little as you realize just how much you’ve missed him this week despite trying to convince yourself you were better off without his incessant teasing. Reaching out, you mean to brush your fingertips over his cheekbones, but you suddenly hesitate before touching him. He sleeps so lightly sometimes and you don’t want to be the reason he can’t fall back to sleep.

But it’s already too late.

That frown of concern shifts into confusion as his eyes open—the color as bright and striking as ever—then relief when he sees you, sleepily taking your hand in his own and intertwining your fingers. Rolling onto his side, he smiles faintly at the sight of you tucked in beside him.

“I’m not dreaming, am I, sweetie?” he murmurs, his already deep voice even deeper with sleep, “It’s been 8 days and a few hours since I saw you last.”

“You keep count?” you tease as he brings your wrist to his lips.

“Maybe I do,” he says with a huff and a shrug, his still-heavy eyelids closing again. You know he isn’t asleep, however, by the sound of his annoyed grunt when you try to slip your hand out of his grasp, “Leaving already?”

“No, I just want to get more comfortable.”

His eyes still closed, he allows you to take your hand back. You start to settle in beside him, but thinking about how lovely and worried he’d looked when you first came in, you suddenly have an idea to hopefully help soothe whatever dreams he’d been having.

His brow furrows again when you take his face in-between your hands, but a smug little smile is quick to replace it as you place feather-light little kisses against every inch of his face.

He sinks deeper into the mattress as you do, his entire body relaxing as you surge with gratitude for the fact that he shares this vulnerable side with you and only you. By the time you finish, his smug smile has faded softly as he dozes off and on again.

“Hmm? Is that all?” he hums. Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, sliding back into the blankets, grabbing his arm and drawing it around you as well. Nuzzling his nose against the back of your neck, he murmurs with a voice as smooth as velvet, “Thank you, sweetie. It’s been a hell of a week and I needed that.”

“Don’t be silly,” you murmur, “Now go back to sleep, Sylus.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 1: Xavier and Zayne Edition

A Short Little Tag List! 💕 (I hope you enjoy :))

@lemurianmaster @myeagleexpert

[fandomnerd9602]

Little Pack Christmas

Wolf!Natasha x Reader

You and your wolf hybrid mate Natasha Romanoff were adjusting quite well to being parents to young five year old twins Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. The twins loved you both so much. They could barely stand to be apart from you. Even when you got them enrolled in a little school close by, they needed you both there to pick up and drop them off.

With the winter months approaching fast, you and Natasha had to move full time into your apartment. The guest room was already set up for the twins while Natasha moved comfortably into your room.

It was fantastic having everyone under one roof. And with the passage of time, you and Natasha realized that your first Christmas as a family was coming up.

“What are we gonna do?” Natasha found herself pacing the grounds of your apartment, “it’s our first real Christmas with them!”

“Baby they just need to know how much we love them.” You try to ease your mate’s nerves, “all that matters is that we’re all together. We’re a family now. And family is forever”

“Family” Natasha whispers, a little tear making its way down her cheek, “we have a family.” A little giggle escapes your wolf girl’s lips.

“We have a family” you let out a happy little chuckle

Wanda started showing interest in magical creatures and plushies. Pietro was showing all the makings of a young athlete. Honestly you were happy to see them thrive.

As it drew closer to Christmas. You and Natasha began decorating the apartment. The twins were more than eager to help with set up. You and Natasha would put the tree up, the twins worked on the ornaments.

In the evenings, you would watch old Christmas specials together. Pietro would cuddle into Natasha’s side while little Wanda loved staying cuddled between you and Natasha.

Finally Christmas Day had arrived. And with it, the children were the first up. The little deer hybrids ran into your bedroom, their little deer tails wiggling with anticipation.

“It’s Christmas! It’s Christmas!!!” Little doe Wanda exclaimed as she jumped on you.

Little Pietro took to jumping on Natasha, eager as ever, “wake up! Wake up!!”

Natasha let out a little wolf growl; despite loving the fact that she was a mother now, she still had to get use to how rambunctious kids can be.

“Give Momma and Poppa a couple minutes to wake up, detkas,” you explained before shuttling them out of your room.

Natasha sat up, her reddish hair and wolf tail being an absolute case of bed head. She turned to you with a little hum in her voice.

“Merry Christmas, my hunter” she whispered.

You tenderly took her face in your hands and kissed her, “merry Christmas my honey wolf”

Natasha giggled and took your face in her hands. The two of you sharing little kisses for a minute or so. Even though your eyes were closed, you could hear Natasha’s tail swishing happily against the bedsheets.

The two of you made your way to the living room and put on a Christmas music playlist.

You pulled out two presents for Wanda and Pietro, in truth you weren’t able to buy much due to the sanctuary being a charity that’s still trying to find its footing. But still the children’s eyes gleamed as you presented them with their gifts.

Pietro tore thru his present with glee and found a pair of new track shoes. He had really gotten into running lately.

“Track shoes!!!” The little buck shouted happily, “thank you Momma, Poppa!!”

Wanda tore delicately through her presents to find a little stuffed Niffler from the Fantastic Beasts movies. She had been slowly finding herself a fan of the Wizarding World Series.

“Niffler!!” The little doe exclaimed as she held it to her chest, “I won’t let you out of my sight, mister! Thanks Momma and Poppa”

Natasha smiled, seeing her children so excited for their presents. You slide a small box into your wolf girl’s lap.

“And this is from Poppa to Momma” you said with a little wink.

Natasha opened her gift to find a little pendant necklace with a little see through orb as its centerpiece.

“My hunter,” she whispers, “it’s amazing.”

“Look through the centerpiece,” you instructed her.

Natasha held up the centerpiece to her eye and saw the moon in its particular pathway. “It’s the moon,” she responded.

“Correction. It’s how the moon looked on the day you and I first met all those years ago.” You replied with a smile.

“Oh baby” Natasha teared up before launching herself into your arms, her tail wagging back and forth excitedly.

You kissed her wolf ears while rubbing her lower back. Your children dog piled onto you too. You couldn’t help but chuckle at your predicament. You were being love bombed by your whole family.

Your family. You wouldn’t trade any moment of this for the world.

A merry Christmas indeed.

Tags @lifespectator @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @ma1egamer @julieromanoff @texaswolf23 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @russianredassassin @revanshand @iiconicsfan25 @idkwhatever580 @moonlit-imagines @moonlit-ficrecs @moonpheus @multi-fandom-enjoyer

[multific]

My Venus

Dmitri Kravinoff x Reader

Burlesque!AU 

Summary: He was drawn to you.

From the moment his eyes locked with yours.

He knew he had to have you.

You loved to tease men.

It was what you were paid to do.

You had a show, quite popular, they called you Venus Sherry. 

You worked in a bar as a burlesque performer.

Many people, men and women enjoyed your show to the fullest.

At the beginning of each, you would come out of a beautiful shell. Your routine was specifically designed to entertain all. 

But it seemed like you had caught the eye of a young man more than anyone else's in the bar.

Not much younger than you, he always sat at the VIP table with a glass of whiskey in front of him. 

Or could it be that he caught your eye? 

For the last few months, he has been coming to see your shows. He never missed one. 

"Frank? What's the name of the man at the VIP table?" the bouncer looked at you and shrugged his shoulders.

"Some Russian guy. I forgot his name... It was something with the letter D."

Mr D. You decided to call him.

He never gave you the vibes of other guests. They came to enjoy the show, some turned out to be full creeps but not him. He was mesmerized.

His eyes were filled with passion and admiration.

You liked that.

It wasn't only lust.

It was something new.

Something different.

Something exciting.

And it got more and more exciting as the days passed.

Each show you pretended there was no one else, only him and you.

You danced for him. You teased him.

And you smiled at him. 

You never smiled like that at anyone else.

"Frank?" you asked as your door opened.

"Mr D wants to see you." Frank said as you got up from your chair.

You were fully dressed, ready for your show but you had better things to do now.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you approached his desk, he quickly stood up to greet you.

He was short. 

Not like that mattered, but he was handsome, which did matter.

"Ms Venus Sherry, my name is Dmitri Kravinoff. It is a pleasure to meet you, I have been a huge fan of your... work." You handed your hand to him to shake but he kissed the back of it instead. "Please, take a seat."

And you did.

"So, Dmitri, nice to put a name to the face I have been seeing so often."

"May I know the real name of My Venus?"

You smiled at his request but you ended up telling him your name.

There was just something about him.

You needed to know more.

---

Dmitri Kravinoff is possibly the man of your dreams and desires.

He sent you flowers after all of your shows.

Red roses.

To show his love for you.

And you danced for him. 

You feared he only liked you because of Venus. You feared he believed in your illusion too much.

But he didn't.

His eyes said it all.

His eyes looked beyond the costumes and make up.

And so, it didn't take you long to quit your career as Venus Sherry. 

"I will take care of you. I promise." he whispered and he didn't lie. 

Dimitri asked you to move in with him and quit your job. You could see the jealousy in his eyes. 

He only wanted you for him.

"Others get Venus, but you have me as a woman, as Y/N." you told him.

You weren't sure if it was good to fall in love so quickly. But it was so easy to love him.

Not his name, not his business and not his money. But him, Dmitri.

You could tell he did everything to win you over with his money but in the end, it was he who captured your heart. 

You stood out on his balcony, looking over London with a cup of tea in your hands. It was morning, people were going to work as you watched them.

The arms that wrapped around you made you jump and almost spill your tea. 

"You scared me."

"What are you doing up so early?" he whispered into your neck.

"Couldn't sleep." 

"Didn't I tire you out enough?" you smiled at him as he turned you to face him.

"You did. I just have too many thoughts."

"You and your clever mind, My Love. I told you to let them all go."

"I know. And I will." his hand was placed on your cheek before it moved to your temple, he closed his fist as if collecting your thoughts and threw them away. 

"I love you so much." he said to you with a beautiful smile.

"I love you too Dimi."

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

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