#first of all what do you even put there?? anything you own that you will never use that's what.

[cheyisagirlkisser]

hi!! could u pls write about prison vi or ellie x sweetheart reader who works as the librarian at the prison <3

𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮. (𝐕𝐈)

content: fem reader who works at stillwater's library, prisoner vi, fluff, powder mention, mention of implied sa, kind of angsty because i can't write stillwater without mentioning the injustice.

a/n: hi anon sorry for the long wait for this request i've been brainstorming for it but decided to wait until frenzy was out to start it. as for ellie, i have an ellie and sweetheart reader fic i've been working on! it's still deep in the drafts though. i hope you enjoy this:)

Stillwater's contents are harsh and hard to look at. The walls, stacks to the highest of heights, are simply grey bricks with cracks that will never see maintenance. The cafeteria's lighting is low and depressing, and the view of the prison from afar is of the alcatraz, only that prison would be a heaven for stillwater's inhabitants.

The cells are even worse, and that is where prisoners stay most of their sentence. Writings on the drab-toned walls is not uncommon. The beds are made of cheap steel, the springs imprinting into the backs of prisoners even through a mattress layer. Stillwater is the type of place you'd see parents make up scary stories about to keep their children out of inevitable trouble.

However, inside the high fence surrounding the institution, there lay one part that is less Edgar Allen Poe-esque.

You take pride in the library you've been given. Just on the first floor and to the right, prisoners can enter through the doors if they are permitted free time. Inside is your job and where you try to make the miserable a bit less miserable.

You were born in Piltover to a wealthy family, though you didn't care for the life of arts and exquisite tastes. Instead, you secured a well-paying job at a prison most people would rather gauge their eyes out than step foot in. It was when you caught a glimpse of a face through a dark, hidden cell that you accepted the job, and from there, you've tried your best to correct enforcer wrongs.

You sit at the front desk, a pen in your hand.

Click. Click. Click. Click.

Around you is the library you've furnished with books-some your favorites, some you've found as donated treasures or upon a relative's dust-collecting shelf. Though it isn't much, you work with the budget given to, as the council calls it, "provide prisoners with educational resources." You'd like to say that it's more than that for you, however.

You've grown fond of a few prisoners, and some are regulars. Many don't bother with the library, but the ones who do are often the people that you think about at night. Their stories keep you up.

A single mother whose choices were limited, while the mouths she needed to feed were needy.

A man whose daughter was spotted on the street by a group of thugs, a man who would rather be put on trial for murders than know that the men walked freely.

Countless stories of people who deserved a lesser sentence or none at all, while the council's own crimes stack like a pile of dirty magazines.

One girl in general separates herself from the rest, however. You find yourself thinking about her the most.

Click, click, click, click.

You hear the door open, two enforcers present behind Vi. They shut the door behind her, and she walks towards you without much hesitation.

"Got anything new for me?" She asks, eyes briefly glancing over the stack of paperwork at your desk before meeting yours.

"It's been a while since you've visited." You notice, as if asking for an explanation.

"What, you miss me or somethin'?" Vi teases, laughing at the small, embarrassed huff that slips past your lips.

"I'm allowed to care for the people here, especially you. Please tell me you didn't get yourself into anymore trouble, Vi. I told you it worries me." Your tone carries a hint of worry that Vi is unfamiliar with in other people. She doesn't get much bonding behind bars, and to be frank, she doesn't know how to take it.

"It wasn't my fault." She says quietly, not quite meeting your concerned gaze. "I just want something to read. Anything new for me?"

You nod, stepping behind the desk and leading her to an aisle a few rows down. It's further out from your desk, and your heels are loud on the ground, especially loud with just you and Vi in your library.

"I'll never get how you walk in those shoes." You hear Vi say from behind you, and you laugh despite the jab.

"I'm used to it." You simply tell her, leading her down through the aisle.

"I forget you're a Piltie." Though that is another insult, there is something fonder hidden behind it. You know how much Vi hates the better-off, and if she forgets she hates you, isn't that a good thing? "You know, when me and my sister were little, I remember how much she wanted a pair of shoes just like those. I always thought they looked silly, but they kinda suit you." She says quietly, a softness in her voice.

You stop at the end of the aisle and grab a novel from the fourth shelf. You turn back to Vi and hold it up for her eyes to read over the title.

"Your Native Land, Your Life." Vi reads aloud, brows furrowed in confusion. "A poetry collection?"

You nod, a small smile on your face. "Yup. Some of her poetry took me a while to understand, but I think the read is worth it. Really beautiful stuff."

Vi nods, and you're glad she doesn't make a move to leave. You take in her tattoed face and the sharpness of her jaw. It always bothers you how little they feed Stillwater prisoners, but at the same time, something in Vi carries a beauty that you like to admire when you're allowed to.

You think that there is something sweet in Vi that can't ever truly die. You see many prisoners harden with their experiences in here, but not Vi. She carries herself with violence in her cell and throughout the hallways with the rest of the group, but the bits of information she shares with you regarding her sister tells you otherwise. The way she speaks to you makes you want to ask what you are to her, but you refrain. It's mere kindness, and you should be professional.

Still, you don't move away or scream for the guards as she currently leans in. You let her breath hit your face.

"You confuse the hell out of me." She tells you, quietly and intimately. When you seem confused, she continues. "I know you've heard the stories about me. The things I've done to people in here. Yet you still look at me like I'm as innocent as a doe."

"You aren't automatically a horrible person because you're here, Vi."

She scoffs, but doesn't step away from you. "I've done shitty things. Doesn't that make me a shitty person?" She speaks, low and vulnerable. Her voice is unusually small.

"I don't think you are." You say quietly. You can't help but smile at each other. Before you can even think, Vi's lips press against yours in a soft, hesitant but sweet kiss. You process what is happening and return the kiss. Your hands cup her jaw, fingers threading through her soft hair. She presses you against the shelf with a hand around your waist, but she doesn't press for more. Her lips move against yours affectionately for a few more seconds, lingering before she reluctantly pulls away.

This is what always gets you-that look in Vi's eyes, vulnerable and loving. You see it when she talks about things she loves, and you long for it when the prison weighs her down. Her thumb makes contact with your cheek and strokes the soft skin.

"You need to get back to your cell. It's almost lights out." You reluctantly say, still not pulling away. Neither of you can seem to seperate, wanting to prolong the moment. "Promise me you'll stay out of trouble?"

"If it means I can visit you again." She plants one last kiss on your lips before letting you go.

You truly feel sympathy for all of Stillwater's prisoners. You think of them and their situations. You think about their families back in the undercity. However, you think of Vi the most, in the dark of your room. You'll let yourself think of her until you drift asleep tonight, and imagine if she were with you, her hands keeping you cozy and tight in her embrace.

taglist: @witzs, @bewareofmyglock, @ruelezz (if the tag doesn't work it's because of your settings!)

[bernardsbendystraws]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐃𝐨𝐨𝐫 — 𝐌.𝐒.

Synopsis: Matt finds out about your self harm.

Warnings: Self harm, mentions of not eating, angst, overall dark themes. Read at your own discretion.

A/N: Please reach out to hotlines if you are struggling, you are not alone <333

With love and big tits, Rose

wc: 1500+

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

00: Not-so-sweet escape

Everyone needs an escape. Reality is harsh, too painful to bathe in every second of the day. All you wanted was something you could cope with, something that would make the ache of breathing sting a little less. 

It started small—very small. Sometimes you’d purposefully just not eat, purposefully make your body feel weak. But it escalated. Like everything else, the addiction became lethal. 

01: Fake it

You’re exhausted. Every bone feels like it’s withering away beneath your itchy skin. It’s like your body is reacting to your mind, mimicking how dead you feel. 

The bathroom is dark. You’ve been sitting on the cold tile for ages, wishing that the dark would somehow consume you. But it doesn’t. All it does is mock you in silence, the quiet peace haunting your running thoughts, jealousy burning through your face as you feel tears swell in your eyes. 

“Hey, do you wanna go out for ice cream?” 

Matt. He knocks softly, his brows furrowed as he sees the lack of light illuminating from the door gap from the floor. He’s worried. He doesn’t wanna say anything, he barely has a reason to be concerned other than the fact that he can just feel it—feel something awful as if it’s contagious. 

The lump in your throat is thick. You bite down hard on your inner cheek, letting the back of your head fall against the wall. “Yeah, that… that sounds like fun.” 

You don’t have it in yourself to do anything but pretend. 

02: Pretty Weak

It’s running smoothly until it doesn’t. The way you fake it is sometimes too convincing. You find yourself truly believing in hope until you’re alone again, feening for some sort of relief that you don’t think will ever come. 

The sun is rising, your mind is barely awake. Matt has your face nuzzled in his chest, his hand wrapped around the bottom of your thigh as he pulls you in even closer, kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

“You look so pretty,” he compliments. 

And then it stops. Those words trigger your body to stiffen just the slightest before falling lifelessly. You don’t feel pretty. And it wasn’t necessarily about your body either, it was your eyes. They looked so… dull—like something inside your body had failed, leaving you as some sort of corpse left to rot in reality. 

“I’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? You stay here, I wanna eat in bed with you.” 

His words are sweet, truly. But they make you feel guilty. He’s so full of love, everything good. And you’re full of… well, you’re full of nothing. Your blood feels like dust, your tears caressing your cheeks like dry clouds. 

It’s just so empty, so useless. 

As Matt leaves the room, you can’t help but stare towards the bathroom. You want it. You want it so bad. The relief is all that seems to linger when you recall memories of such a brutal coping mechanism. You can’t find it in yourself to search for the reasons why you stopped in the first place. 

But you don’t. You can’t. 

He’ll see it. 

Anywhere you put a single mark, Matt would always see it. You live together, he constantly helps get you dressed, sometimes you even shower together. But right now? Right now you just don’t care—not when you feel this unbearable urge, an unbearable itch. You need it. 

And the worst part? The worst part is that you feel so weak. Nothing bad has even happened. Your boyfriend’s making you breakfast after calling you pretty and somehow that isn’t enough to make you happy. 

03: Cope 

Relationships are supposed to be built and maintained on bricks of trust. And that’s what you have with Matt. Well, used to. You’ve been lying to him constantly, giving excuses, avoiding him like the plague—even though you feel like you’re the disease. 

But it’s just too much. You can’t put this on him, you won’t. Not when this isn’t his battle to fight, not when you gave into the past addiction so easily. 

“Sweetheart, do you wanna take a bath together? I got all the fun stuff,” he says excitedly, lifting items out of a plastic grocery bag, showing you all the best things—bubbles, candles, scrubs… everything. 

He didn’t do it for any other reason other than wanting to spend more intimate time with you. Physical touch is important to him. It doesn’t necessarily mean sex, but he craves your skin on his, he needs the rawness of being close to you. 

You feel bad rejecting the offer. In all honesty, it sounds so nice. But you can’t. Not when you know he’ll see it. Then he’ll worry. And he doesn’t need to worry. This helps you, he wouldn’t understand that. 

Matt’s shoulders slump as he tries to spare a small smile, not wanting to seem too disappointed. The awful guilt crawls up your chest, creating a lump in your throat. 

And there’s only one way to cope. 

04: He Knows

His heart feels like it’s ripping out of his chest. The more hints he slowly picks up on, the more he realizes what’s really going on. He doesn’t want to believe it. Denial is logical to him. Afterall, you’d tell him, right?

The trust he has for you is unfathomable, immeasurable. He’s certain you’d tell him. He’s certain he’d know immediately if things were that bad. 

And then he stops feeling the ripping of his heart in his chest. Instead, he hears it—a loud cry leaving his lips. 

Matt was never one to snoop. He respects your privacy more than anything. But he saw pink water resting above the shower drain after you had exited fully clothed. You’re not on your period, he knows that for a fact. And—you didn’t really shave in that quick of a shower. 

He knows. 

05: Lose

They’ve gone missing. Every tool you’ve ever used and hidden in your bathroom drawer—they’re just… gone. 

Your stomach drops, your fingers aching as you furiously shuffle through the miscellaneous products in your drawer, trying to find anything. But it’s not there. 

Matt couldn’t bring himself to fully confront you without knowing more. The pink water haunted him as he flipped through the pages of your journal, his stomach twisting in knots when he saw the dates trace back further and further.

How did he not know sooner? 

What if he had never known until it was too late? 

Even the thought makes him sick. He can’t fathom the thought of you completely out of his everyday life. He needs you. 

Matt hears you rummaging through the drawers, his chest shaking as he tries to take a deep breath. 

He’s just not ready to lose you. 

06: Lost

Horrified fear. The look on your face is viciously distraught, your hands twisting into fists as you sit on the edge of the bed, Matt’s voice ringing through the air. He explains the pink water, how he didn’t mean to intrude on your privacy, he was only concerned. 

Part of you is angry. You want to snap at him for going through your stuff. But he had a valid reason—he wasn’t wrong. 

“-and I’ll help. We can look into therapists, I’m here every step of the way–”

“You don’t understand, Matt.” 

Your words are bitter. Matt’s face scrunches, almost as if he’s in pain. It hurts to look at someone you love suffering—especially when they’re looking at you with pure hatred. And that’s exactly what you’re doing. 

Although, you don’t hate him, you hate how he makes you see yourself. You’re weak. You couldn’t even reach out for help to your boyfriend who has never failed you. 

It could’ve been worse. He could’ve lost you. But as you walk out the door, it kinda feels like he has. 

07: Escape

Oh god it hurt his heart. The pain in his chest is the most brutal violence of emotions he has ever felt in his life. And he just wants it to stop, but he knows it won’t. Not when he’s holding you, consoling you as you scream at him. 

“I know it’s bad! I’m not fucking stupid, I just-”

Your words fall weaker, your fists hammering against his chest starting to unclench as you let out a sad cry.

“I just needed an escape.”

08: Revolving Door

Your cheek is raw from how often your teeth seemed to knaw into the muscle. Matt’s sitting on the desk chair, trying to not stare at you as you write down in a journal. 

You refused to go to therapy. The thought of saying everything out loud made you sick. So, this is the best he could come up with—put it on a page so it doesn’t have to rest in your mind. And honestly, it helped. It helped more long term than anything else.

But you just missed it—the immediate relief. 

Matt assures you that you’re not weak when you explain this to him. He’s there to let you cry and sit numbly, as long as he’s there to make sure you’re safe—not walking into the revolving door until you’re so scattered that you don’t even know how to get back out. 

He loves you—even if it’s not as a lover and just as a soul. He’ll hold open any door, take you places that make it easier to breathe. He makes you feel strong—strong enough to not turn back to that revolving door.

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

How would Dory react if the player got like a seriously bad injury from exploring the underground parts of the factory and such cause let's be real that place has SO MANY Osha violations

Honestly, I wouldn't last 5 minutes in that factory without breaking something.

If you like my work, please consider commissioning me or leaving a tip on Ko-fi (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Doey & player who got injured in the factory

★ When Doey finds you injured, his first reaction is to panic. "Player! What happened? Oh no, oh no…" before quickly snapping out of it and attempting to help. Trying to remember any of the first aid lessons Medic taught him.

★ His normally steady hands begin to shake as he looks around for anything that could help. "This is all my fault" he thinks to himself, while scanning the room for anything useful.

★ Doey realizes that this part of the factory isn't safe for you. So, he picks you up as gently as possible and brings you somewhere better. Once you’re in a safer area, he tries his best to treat your injuries.

★ It's not perfect but it'll keep you from bleeding out before he can get you back to Safe Haven. "Why did this have to happen to you?" he says to himself, voice hushed and filled with a mix of fear and sorrow.

★ After he brings you back to the Safe Haven, Doey remains by your side for as long as he can. "Let me handle that" he says whenever you try to get up to do something. He's tries to distract himself by helping you. Putting your needs above his own.

★ Even when he's busy, you're still taken care of. A lot of the smaller toys wanted to help you after hearing what happened. Word spreads fast in such a tightknit group. Bobby even brings you her favorite board game to cheer you up! If you needed a cast, it'll get covered in signatures.

★ Despite his best-efforts, time and time again, he dwells on what he could have done differently. Feeling like he somehow made this happen. Like he failed to keep you safe. But he pushes those thoughts aside, trying to focus on the present moment.

★ Doey makes you a get well soon card. The card features a drawing done in crayon of him destroying whatever safety hazard that dared to hurt you. When he hands you the card, you can tell he's proud of it.

[oofmybad]

“It feels good. Just new”

Synopsis: billie straps you for the first time. That’s legit everything. Nothing groundbreaking.

Warnings: dom!billie x sub!reader, strap, spanking, squirting, mildly rough sex, NOT proofread, I think that’s it.

Words: idk

A/n: this is my first time writing smut. And I wrote it in ~maybe~ 5 minutes max lol. So it’s probably shit. Couldn’t quite get myself to proofread it back. But just wanna post it to get past the shyness pfft. Anyway, enjoy (I hope).

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you want to do this? Because we don’t have to.”

“Yeah, baby. Of course I do. I- i really want you.”

“Ok pretty girl. Tell me if you want me to stop, or anything. You’re in control, always.” Billie says as she lines the strap up to your core.

“Um… Will it… hurt?” You ask, slightly embarrassed of your lack of experience.

“It shouldn’t do if you’re turned on enough. You feel pretty wet to me. But it might feel like a bit of a stretch at first.” Billie says as she strokes your baby hairs away from your forehead.

You take a big breath and hold the air in, anticipating the sensation. “Ok” you say, now determined.

“Uh uh, you gotta breathe, baby” Billie takes one of your hands and places it on her own chest so that you can copy her breathing, “here, follow me”.

You are now breathing at a steady pace when Billie reaches for your hand that’s placed on her chest, so that she can clasp her fingers in between yours, holding your hand that’s now laying next to your head.

“I’m just gonna put the tip in, ok?” Billie says keeping firm and controlled eye contact with you.

Just like that, her unwavering confidence melts any lingering worry away. “Please” you say, the word slipping past your lips like a begging whimper.

“Mm!” You gasp a moment later once Billie has pushed the first inch or so inside of you.

“You ok? Need me to stop, angel?” Billie’s eyes shoot up from your bodies connecting to search your eyes for any discomfort.

“No, no! It feels good. Just new, that’s all” you reply.

“Ok I’m gonna go a little deeper now” Billie warns you before pushing further into your pussy, inch by inch - she periodically waits for you to get used to the new stretch.

“Mmmh…fuck-“ you let out a moan as the full length of the strap pushes against your walls. You let go of Billie’s hand in order to wrap your hands around her back, tightly clasping onto her shoulders with your nails, and pulling her body flush with yours.

“Ugh, god” Billie moans, almost like a reply to your altered, deeper, position. “I can feel you clenching. You feel so good”

“Please give me more, Billie” you plead.

“What do you want, angel?” Billie whispers into your neck, her teeth nibbling at the tender skin of your collarbones.

“I want you to fuck me” you pause to think “…hard”.

Billie pulls her head back to search for any doubt in your eyes, but she finds nothing but desperate longing. Without another word, Billie pulls the strap out of you, quickly ramming it back inside of you repeatedly - your g spot getting hit every time.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you practically wail out.

“Can you turn around for me, baby?” Billie asks as she positions herself to be towering over you. Pulling the strap out at the same time.

You sigh, almost whimper, at the loss of sensation. But you quickly obey, turning around so that the right side of your face is being pressed against the mattress and your ass is in the air.

Billie lines the strap up with your entrance once again, teasing your clit at the same time, and asks “you ok?”

“Omg yes! Please just-“ you can’t even finish your sentence before Billie thrusts back into you, hitting places you didn’t know existed inside of you, as she smacks ur ass with each thrust - enjoying the recoil.

Your hands neurotically search for something to hold onto. Landing on the pillow above your head that’s leant on the headboard. “God! Oh, fuck” you moan out, panting with every thrust.

“You take me so well, angel” Billie says as she uses her tattooed hand to push up your spine towards your neck, creating an even deeper arch. Billie moans at the glorious sight in front of her.

This new angle sends you into another dimension. You are literally dizzy and seeing stars. “I have to cum! Please!”

“Already, baby? Hold it for me. Be good” Billie huffs as she continues to smash her hips into your ass.

“I can’t”

“Yes you can” Billie retorts as she reaches round to rub your clit again.

“Ah, pleaseeee baby!” You whine.

“I said not yet” Billie snaps sternly. You would be scared of her if you weren’t so turned on. She smacks your ass one, two, three more times to show you how much she means it.

But this only causes you to unravel completely. Moan after moan explodes from your mouth - you not even having a chance to warn Billie that you’re cumming.

From behind you, and through your moans, you can faintly hear Billie’s grunts in time with her hips stuttering against yours. She’s doing her very best to keep fucking you through your simultaneous orgasms.

Hearing her struggle to not whimper is the final straw for you. A rubber band inside your core snaps as you try to warn Billie. “Fuck! I’m gonna pee! Wait!”

Billie, being more experienced than you, knows that you’re gonna squirt so she musters up all the strength she has left. She roughly grips your ass cheeks and uses them as handles to pull herself further into you.

“Uhhhnn. Fuckuhhh” your expletive moans, skin slapping, and the sound of your juices crashing onto Billie’s thighs and the mattress are all that can be heard in your bedroom.

[kaisentine]

this tiktok video made me unwell.

“itoshi, did you see my—“ “. . . oh.”

that was probably the first and last time you will ever see itoshi sae almost shirtless—alive, at least. he’s quick to react, dropping the hem of his shirt and ultimately covering his back again. God his back muscles . . . his back muscles were . . . “ever learn how to fucking knock?”

you weren’t really anything to him. maybe a friend of a friend but not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his shirt, especially not in a freaking house party one of his teammates probably forced him into coming.

“shit—fuck, sorry!” you shout over the blasting music but all you can really focus on is the blaring sound of impending death. wasting no more than a millisecond longer, you slam the door shut like how it was in the beginning and start booking it downstairs and back to where your friends were. guess you wouldn’t be getting your power bank anytime soon—if ever.

you aren’t anything to him. not someone who should even be seeing a slither of his back underneath his sure—certainly not fully underneath his shirt.

aaaaaaaand, he’s shirtless. obviously, you covered your eyes the moment he even started talking and the only reason you knew his shirt was off was because of the soft thud that hit the ground when he dropped his shirt on the floor. “why are you taking off your shirt!?” you screech, facing away from this monster. when he doesn’t respond, you just fill the silence with your own complaints.

“are you not shameless?” “i don’t think strangers should be doing this!” “am i gonna go through the cracks of this floor and straight into lava?” “is this legal?” “should i be concerned?” “i’m really concerned.” “can you just put your shirt back on?” “this is gonna ruin my reputation!” “you better not tell anyone!”

“all i hear is a lot of bullshit—do you ever shut the fuck up?” he isn’t amused after your 63rd ramble about why he shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. “you haven’t turned around once.” he says as he rolls his eyes in annoyance—what the fuck is he talking about—why the fuck is he doing this? it’s going to make you dizzy!

“why should i?!” you angrily sulk in your position. “because you didn’t see it.”

didn’t see what? him shirtless, of course!

there’s a scarily eery presence standing behind you and you don’t want to turn around—nor should you anyway. “can you just look?” he’s spinning you around with your eyes still covered, mind you. “we don’t know each other!” you protest but it’s no use when his hands grip your wrist. “thought i’d give you the chance to see it fully before you die.”

“you two know each other?” oliver aiku questions.

“. . . no.”

wait . . . you forgot your power bank.

sticky note. whats with me and this concept . . . i’ll dig my own grave, thanks . . .

[hy6erion]

Hey love i was wondering if you would write some jayve or viktor bieng dads ? Or reader bieng pregnant but like a late stage of pregnancy i love youre writing thanks

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞/ 𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞) 𝐱 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧���

✰⍣..𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐠𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐝

(´ ω `♡) xx

𝐉𝐚𝐲𝐜𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬

Telling Him:

✰ You were terrified. Not because you thought Jayce wouldn’t be a good father—if anything, you knew he’d be wonderful—but because he was drowning in responsibilities. Between his council duties, Hextech advancements, and trying to keep peace in Piltover, he was already stretched thin.

✰ You debated how to tell him for days. A fancy dinner? A casual mention? Just blurting it out? In the end, you settled on something simple—you placed the positive test and a tiny pair of baby socks on his desk in the evening.

✰ Jayce came in, exhausted, rubbing his temples when he saw the items. He stared at them, confused, blinking a few times. “Are these… for a friend?” His voice was slow, like he was piecing something together.

✰ You stayed silent, nerves eating at you, until you whispered, “No… they’re for us.”

✰ Jayce froze. He looked at you, eyes wide, before back at the test. Then back at you. His brain short-circuited for a second. “You’re… You’re pregnant?” His voice cracked at the end.

✰ When you nodded, Jayce surged forward, pulling you into the tightest hug, burying his face in your shoulder. You felt his entire body shake. He was crying. “I—I can’t believe this. I’m gonna be a dad?”

✰ He kissed you all over—your cheeks, your forehead, your lips—before pulling back, hands cupping your face. “You’re okay, right? How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Fuck, I need to sit down.”

✰ Jayce sat back in his chair, running a hand down his face, grinning like an idiot. He pulled you onto his lap, resting a hand over your stomach. “We’re having a baby… I’m gonna be a dad.” His voice was filled with awe.

✰ The rest of the night, he was giddy, hugging you every five minutes and whispering, “I love you. I love you both.”

Pregnancy:

✰ Jayce went into full dad mode immediately. Researching pregnancy books, clearing his schedule, making sure you were comfortable every second of the day.

✰ “Are you eating enough? Do you need more pillows? Are your feet sore?” He fussed constantly, even if you reassured him a hundred times that you were fine.

✰ The first time he felt the baby kick, he gasped so loud it startled you both. He dropped to his knees, hands cradling your belly. “Oh my God. That was—they just kicked!”

✰ The nursery was finished months before the baby was even due. Jayce insisted on putting everything together himself—crib, changing table, shelves—even if it took all night.

✰ He was obsessed with your growing belly, always resting a hand there when you were sitting together. He also talked to the baby daily, whispering to them at night when he thought you were asleep. “Hey, little one. I hope you’re comfy in there. I can’t wait to meet you.”

✰ Any craving you had? Jayce sprinted to get it. No matter what time of day. If you woke him up at 2 AM saying you wanted pancakes? He was in the kitchen making them from scratch.

✰ He loved taking baths with you, sitting behind you in the tub, hands massaging your belly. It was his way of helping you relax.

✰ Jayce was at every appointment. He cried during the first ultrasound. He held your hand tightly, staring at the little flickering heartbeat on the screen. “That’s our baby.”

Birth & Fatherhood:

✰ When you went into labor, Jayce was panicking. He dropped everything, barely managing to grab the hospital bag before rushing you to the med clinic.

✰ He held your hand the entire time, whispering encouragements through his own choked-back tears. “You’re so strong. You’re doing so good, babe. Just a little more.”

✰ When the baby was finally born, Jayce sobbed. Holding them for the first time, he was completely overwhelmed. “They’re perfect.” His hands trembled as he cradled the tiny bundle.

✰ Fatherhood changed him. Jayce was always affectionate, but now? He was absolutely whipped for his kid.

✰ He sang lullabies at night, danced around the room to calm them down, and carried them everywhere—sometimes strapped to his chest in a baby carrier while he worked.

✰ Jayce loved watching you be a mother. Sometimes, he’d just sit and stare at you both, completely in love.

✰ He was fiercely protective. The first time someone made a snide comment about your parenting, Jayce glared so intensely they backed down immediately.

✰ Every night, he’d kiss you both goodnight. First you, then your baby’s forehead. “I love my family.”

Newborn Stage:

✰ Jayce was immediately obsessed with his child. He refused to leave their side, always hovering over the crib, making sure they were breathing.

✰ He got barely any sleep in the first few weeks—not because the baby kept him up (though they did), but because he couldn’t stop staring at them. “I made this. We made this.” He was in awe.

✰ Every time the baby made a little cooing sound, Jayce melted. If they grabbed his finger? He teared up. He was so soft for them.

✰ He was the dad who tried to do everything—bottle-feeding, changing diapers, swaddling. Except… he sucked at swaddling at first. “Why is this so hard? How do nurses do it so fast?” You had to teach him three times.

✰ He sang to them constantly. Mostly lullabies, sometimes ridiculous songs he made up on the spot. “Who’s my little future scientist? You are! Yes, you are!”

✰ His favorite thing was holding them against his chest, feeling their tiny breaths. Sometimes, he’d fall asleep like that, one hand protectively cradling their back.

Toddler Years:

✰ Jayce was the fun dad. The type to lift them onto his shoulders and run around like a horse. “Faster, Daddy!” “Alright, hold on tight!”

✰ He loved bath time. He always ended up getting drenched because he let them splash too much, but he didn’t care. Seeing their little giggles made it worth it.

✰ He was extremely protective. If they tripped and fell? He was right there to scoop them up. “You okay, sweetheart? Lemme see—oh, just a little scrape. You’re so tough.”

✰ He called them every cute nickname under the sun—kiddo, champ, sweetheart, my little genius.

✰ Jayce was also surprisingly patient. Even when they threw tantrums, he never raised his voice. He’d kneel down to their level, talking them through it. “Hey, hey… use your words. Tell me what’s wrong, okay?”

✰ If they woke up scared at night? Jayce immediately picked them up, letting them sleep on his chest while rubbing their back.

✰ The baby adored him. They always reached for him first, and Jayce absolutely thrived off it.

𝐕𝐢𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐫

Telling Him:

✰ You were nervous. Viktor wasn’t against the idea of children, but he had never seemed actively interested in having any. His work consumed most of his time, and he struggled with his own health.

✰ You decided to tell him in the simplest way possible—just sitting him down after dinner and handing him the test.

✰ Viktor looked at it, confused at first. Then his eyes widened slightly, lips parting. “Is this… positive?”

✰ When you nodded, he inhaled sharply. He was completely still for a moment, staring at the test, before looking up at you.

✰ His voice was soft, almost unsure. “You’re pregnant?"

✰ You braced yourself for any reaction—shock, worry, maybe even fear. But then, his expression softened, and he let out a breathy chuckle. “Well… I suppose we will have to find tiny clothing soon, no?”

✰ Viktor smiled. It was small at first, but as he reached out to touch your stomach, it grew. His hand trembled slightly. “I never imagined… But, if it’s with you, then… I think I could be a good father.”

✰ You both stayed up late that night, just talking. Viktor admitted he was scared—of not being around long enough, of not being a good parent—but he promised to try. “I want this. I want them.”

Pregnancy:

✰ Viktor wasn’t as overbearing as Jayce, but he had his own way of caring. He made sure you had proper nutrition, checking in throughout the day. “Have you eaten yet? You need more iron.”

✰ He worked late into the night, but he always came home to kiss your belly before bed.

✰ Viktor loved feeling the baby move. The first time he felt a kick, he looked so surprised. His eyes widened, and he whispered, “Ah, they are strong… like their mother.”

✰ He talked to the baby a lot when he thought you weren’t listening. Soft, whispered stories about his childhood, his mother, his work. “I hope you will be much smarter than your father.”

✰ He built little inventions for the nursery—custom mobiles, a self-rocking crib, a temperature-regulated bassinet.

✰ Viktor worried about being a good father, but every time you reassured him, he softened, kissing your forehead. “As long as you are here, I think we will be fine.”

Birth & Fatherhood:

✰ Viktor was calm when you went into labor—until the pain started getting bad. Then, he panicked internally.

✰ He refused to leave your side, holding your hand through everything, whispering “Just a little longer, my love.”

✰ When he held his child for the first time, Viktor’s breath caught. He was completely in awe, his eyes misting over. “They are… beautiful.

✰ He was a soft father. The type to fall asleep in his chair with the baby curled up on his chest. The type to hum lullabies while working.

✰ Despite his worries, he was an amazing dad. Because he loved them. Because he loved you.

Newborn Stage:

✰ Viktor was terrified at first. He held the baby like they were made of glass, hesitant, unsure. But the moment they nestled into his chest? He was done for. “Oh… they are so small.”

✰ He was incredibly gentle. Rocking them slowly, tracing tiny patterns on their back. He hummed lullabies while pacing the room.

✰ Sleep deprivation hit him hard, but he never once complained. If the baby cried, he was up instantly, cane clacking as he moved.

✰ He constantly worried about his health. “What if I am not around long enough? What if they barely remember me?” But you reassured him, and he held onto that.

✰ He loved reading to them. Even as a newborn. He’d sit with them in his arms, quietly murmuring passages from his research notes.

✰ The baby loved him. They’d always fall asleep faster in his arms than anywhere else. You’d walk in to see Viktor knocked out in his chair, baby asleep on his chest.

Toddler Years:

✰ Viktor was patient but firm. He didn’t tolerate tantrums. He’d sit them down and say, “I understand you are upset, but we do not throw things, yes?”

✰ He was the dad who explained everything. “Why is the sky blue?” “Ah, well, that is due to the scattering of light—” You had to stop him sometimes. “Vik, they’re three.”

✰ His favorite thing was teaching them how to tinker. Even at a young age, he’d give them little tools, letting them “help” him. “See? You are already a genius.”

✰ The baby followed him everywhere. Holding onto his coat, waddling after him in the lab.

✰ Viktor made them tiny inventions—a music box that played lullabies, a small Hextech nightlight shaped like a star.

✰ He wasn’t the best at playing physical games, but he’d let them ride his cane like a little horse. “Hold on tight.”

✰ The first time they called him “Papa,” he froze. Then, he smiled so soft it nearly broke you.

[prettygirl-gabi]

Title: No One Fights Alone

Pairing: Reader x Paige Bueckers x Aubrey Griffin

Fandom: UConn Women’s Basketball

Warnings: Injury, recovery struggles, emotional distress

Summary: A devastating ACL tear during the Final Four changes everything, but your never alone

I’ve been playing basketball long enough to know what an injury feels like. Twisted ankles, jammed fingers, a couple of bruised ribs—occupational hazards. But nothing could’ve prepared me for this.

One second, I was cutting toward the basket, the ball barely leaving my fingertips on a perfect pass. The next, I was on the ground, pain ripping through my knee like fire.

The arena went silent.

I knew it was bad before I even tried to move. The way my leg twisted underneath me, the way the impact rattled through my bones—I didn’t need to see the replay to know.

Then, before I could process anything else, two familiar voices cut through the chaos.

“Baby, don’t move—just breathe,” Paige’s voice was the first thing I focused on, steady but tight with panic.

Aubrey was right beside her, kneeling next to me, hands hovering over my leg like she wanted to fix it right then and there. “We got you, okay? Just stay still.”

I clenched my teeth, blinking against the bright overhead lights. My heartbeat roared in my ears, drowning out the murmurs from the crowd.

Someone—I think it was KK—was trying to wave off the cameras, but I knew they were on me. It was the Final Four. The whole damn world was watching.

I felt a hand slip into mine, squeezing tight. Paige. “You’re not alone,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

Aubrey, her free hand on my shoulder, nodded. “We’ve been here before. We’ll help you through it.”

I swallowed hard. If there was anyone who knew what I was feeling, it was them. Paige had gone through her knee rehabs. Aubrey had been through it too.

The trainer finally made it onto the court, but I barely registered what they were saying. All I knew was that I was being lifted, carried, and as the pain flared sharper, I squeezed my eyes shut and gripped their hands like a lifeline.

The days after the injury blurred together in a haze of pain meds; morphine and muscle relaxers to be exact, doctor visits, and an overwhelming sense of dread.

I cried when the MRI confirmed what I already knew. ACL tear. Surgery needed.

I cried when I saw my teammates leave for practice without me, leavening e in the PT room by myself.

I cried when I woke up in the middle of the night, my knee throbbing, and felt Paige pulling me into her chest while Aubrey rubbed circles on my back.

“It’s okay to be mad,” Aubrey whispered one night when I couldn’t sleep, my frustration bubbling into tears again.

“It’s okay to be sad too,” Paige added, resting her forehead against mine. “But you’re not doing this alone.”

I didn’t respond, but I let them hold me until I drifted off again.

The first time I tried to put weight on my leg post-surgery, I nearly collapsed.

“Whoa, whoa, I got you,” Aubrey rushed forward, her hands firm on my waist as I struggled to balance on crutches.

Paige, sitting nearby, her own knee bouncing in nervous energy, smiled at me. “You look better than I did my first time.”

I rolled my eyes, gritting my teeth as I forced myself to stand taller. “Yeah, well, I don’t feel better.”

Aubrey gave me a soft look. “That’s why we’re here.”

And they were.

Every. Single. Step.

Paige came to PT sessions with me, encouraging me when I wanted to quit.

Aubrey made sure I was eating, stretching, not overdoing it.

They both celebrated the smallest wins, even when I didn’t think they were worth celebrating.

When I managed to bend my knee to ninety degrees, Paige clapped so loud the whole PT room stared.

When I took my first unassisted steps, Aubrey wiped a tear from her eye, even though she swore she wasn’t crying.

And when I finally—finally—ran for the first time, they were both there, waiting at the end of the track, arms wide open.

The Mental Battle

Physical recovery was one thing. The mental part? That was the hardest.

I didn’t realize how much I had tied my identity to basketball until I couldn’t play it. I felt useless. Lost. Like I wasn’t me anymore.

One night, I sat on my bed, staring at my brace, feeling the weight of everything crash down. “What if I never feel the same again?”

Paige, sitting next to me, didn’t hesitate. “You won’t.”

I snapped my head toward her, surprised.

She gave me a knowing look. “You won’t feel the same. You’ll feel stronger.”

Aubrey, standing by the door, nodded. “And we’ll be right there with you when you do.”

I wanted to believe them.

Some days, I did.

Some days, I didn’t.

But they never let me give up.

Not when I hesitated before cutting on my knee for the first time.

Not when I had nightmares about reinjuring it.

Not when I doubted if I’d ever play like myself again.

And slowly, day by day, I started to believe them.

One Year Later

I walked back into the arena, my heart pounding as I took in the court, the lights, the banners hanging high above us.

I had worked my ass off for this moment.

And standing beside me, their hands in mine, were the two people who had never let me fall alone.

“You ready?” Aubrey asked, squeezing my hand.

I exhaled, nodding. “Yeah. I am.”

Paige grinned as we headed to the tip off line. “Then let’s get back to work.”

And just like that, I was home again.

---

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[daddydixonscrossbow]

⭒ 𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚢𝚕 𝙳𝚒𝚡𝚘𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜 ⭒

⭒ Things I can literally picture Daryl doing [with the scenario(s) to prove my reasoning] - set in Alexandria

●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆● ☆● ☆●☆● ☆●

⭒ Daryl would always make sure you are okay first

Once the dusts of the fight settled, Daryl looked for you, getting to you a quick as he can, “Y’okay? Hey, look at me.” He lifts your face to him, his hands running down checking for any bullet wounds.” You grab his hands, “Daryl, Daryl. I’m fine. I’m good.” You nod, “I’m good.” His eyes search your face, nodding as he reaches out to gently pinch your chin, “A’right.”

⭒ Pinching your chin would be something that Daryl would do all the time

When you first wake up and roll over, his fingers find their way to your chin. He gives you a gruff, “Mornin’” before planting his lips on yours. When you get ready to go out on a run without him, he’ll pinch your chin, thumb rubbing over it gently, “good luck, be safe.” He nods, “Y’hear me?” When you nod, he smirks, “A’right. Give’em hell.” He’d do it even if you’re just sitting around, hanging out. He would admire how someone like you could love someone like him. Oh, and he would always do it when he kisses your forehead.

⭒ Daryl would fully allow all hell to break loose if something happened to you

If word got out that you got hurt, he would be the first one to you, asking you what happened. Who did this to you. He would blame everyone for not keeping you safe. He would get in their faces, yelling and bitching. If word got out that you were captured, Daryl would leave right then and there, with or without anyone, and he wouldn’t stop until he found you. If someone wouldn’t tell him anything, he’d didn’t care about their life. He only cared about yours in that moment.

⭒ Daryl would always make a comment about Dog potentially liking you more than him

Dog took a liking to you right away, and ever since then, it seemed like Daryl had some sort of jealousy towards it, but he covered it up with humor, mumbling something along the lines of, “The hell, m’the one who rescued ya, not her” or “yeah, I like her better than you, too” you would always laugh, joking back by telling him to “be nice” and he would scoff with a half smirk while shaking his head, silently loving how you shower Dog in love.

⭒ Daryl would let you handle your own battles within the community, but the minute someone turns disrespectful towards you, that’s when he steps in

He would keep a fair enough distance while still listening in. He would smirk when you would bring out the attitude, glancing over to watch you stand your ground. He loved when you put people in their place, he found it attractive that you could hold your own, “I don’t give a fuck what Rick said, if he has a problem with it, he can come talk to me like a big boy..“ the guy speaks up, “Rick has bigger things to deal with right now, and your bitchy ass isn’t at the top of his list.” Daryl immediately stands up and starts walking over. You watch the guys face change as he steps back. Daryl walks up, “Don’t talk t’her like that.” He nods, “Go get Rick, tell’em I need to talk to him.”

⭒ Daryl would absolutely stay awake after you’ve fallen asleep, just holding you and taking in the moment

As you’re asleep, cuddled up against Daryl’s chest, he was awake. His hand gently running up and down your back as his other rests on your shoulder. He would listen to your breathing, taking in the smell of your shampoo, because it was a rare smell to have nowadays. He would just take it all in, enjoy every minute of you being there with him. Every time you moved or made a noise, he would look down, making sure you were alright. He was partly scared to have someone so close to him, knowing that it could all disappear in a split second, but that makes him even more grateful. Out of everyone, you picked him. He didn’t know why, but what he did know, is that he would do anything for you.

⭒ When he’s out on a run, if he sees something that he thinks you’d like, he’ll pick it up for you

You made your way towards the gate as you heard it being opened. You smile as you heard the rev of his motorcycle growing louder the closer it got. As soon as he stops and turns off his bike, he gets off, walking up to you. He would try to be nonchalant about it, but once he seen how much you light up when he gives you gifts, he can’t help but turn into a bashful idiot himself. He was already fighting back a smile as he handed you the necklace, “S’not much, but.. here y’go, darlin’.” You smirked as you took it, examining the small jewel in your hand before looking up at him, “God, I love you more and more, Daryl Dixon.” You lean in, pecking his lips and he bats the air, “Yeah, well. I love you, too.”

⭒ Daryl would definitely check your weapons and make sure they’re good before you even thought about going out

You would come downstairs to see Daryl sitting on the couch, your knife in his hand. You would walk up to him, leaning over, “Whatcha doin’?” He would shake his head slightly, “Jus’checkin’ out your weapons, makin’ sure they’re good.” He would spin the blade, “Ya sharpen these recently?” He looks over as you sit down and you nod, “Last night.” He smirks, nodding as he leans forward to set the knife on the table, “That’s good.” You lean over to him, informing him that he doesn’t always need to worry about you, but he brushes it off, “Can’t help it, jus’love ya, too much.”

I can’t think of anymore but if I do, I’ll make a new post.

Here’s a kiss for likin’ and rebloggin’ 💋

[kedreeva]

So, bit of a long story but, the mutation has only been around less than 10 years. The birds take around 3 years to hit breeding age, so there's only been a couple generations of them, period. And EVERY mutation so far has worked like a recessive- one copy doesn't show (or shows minimally, like pied/white), two copies means the birds looks different. It's been that way for thousands of years, they've never had a dominant gene, so a LOT of people working with peafowl have no idea genes even CAN work differently than a plain recessive gene. The assumption off the bat was that this was a recessive gene and should work like any other recessive gene.

The OG breeder, Els, is in the Netherlands (or was at the time, I think she moved since) and didn't tell anyone about them for a few years after she got the first one; then, after AI nearly got to her flock and foxes nearly finished the job, she finally in 2021 sold a breeding pair to Jens in Denmark and later to Isabella in.... I think Italy, but don't quote me. Jens took DNA to actual geneticists to try to suss out what it was, something I can't do (he still doesn't have an answer last I heard). All of that was going down in countries I don't have much contact with. The UPA (United peafowl association, the folks in charge of peafowl mutation validation and news in the USA) only publicly announced YM in 2022. The birds only arrived here to the USA in 2023, and Bill DID immediately come to me then, when things didn't add up.

Brad won't ever come to me about anything for any reason; as seen above, he thinks he knows everything and wouldn't lower himself to speak to a girl about his specialty, and I've had to block at least one of his kids for being a complete dickwad, too. And, y'know, I'm pretty okay with not ever engaging with a guy who runs a puppy mill for peafowl. He is also.... kind of the problem. Before I put out my genetics guide in 2018, Brad was the person people would go to, to ask genetics questions (and I'm sure that someone in this chain did) and Brad... well. He gatekeeps info. People go to him to ask questions and if he ever responds - and he doesn't always - he may or may not give anyone the info they want. He behaves as if it is a great burden to explain anything to anyone, and doesn't usually treat it as worthwhile unless they're fawning over him in public. The problem is..... he doesn't know. I say he gatekeeps info but the reality, as near as I can tell, is that he doesn't have it. He has practical knowledge. If you ask him "if I breed x to y what will I get" he can tell you, because he has seen the results enough times to roughly understand how a recessive transfers in practice. But he doesn't actually understand the genetics that go along with that, and so tells people to look it up themselves. He's the embodiment of "if you give a man a fish he'll eat for a day" because he can tell you over and over and over what any pairing will make, but not how to get there on your own because he doesn't actually know, and he gets frustrated answering each individual pairing because he can't teach anyone to fish. And that kind of attitude has spread the idea that if you know stuff, you don't share it. Which makes it harder for people to go to those who DO have knowledge and want to share it (like me and Lori, the other lady who has a lot of genetics knowledge), because they think they won't get it anyway (or that someone will make them pay money for it, like Josh does).

Anyway, for birds that take 3 years to mature, and having only been around a few years, this pretty much DID come to me as quickly as possible.

So of the two people in the entire USA that are currently breeding Ultramarine (think, peacock with the blue cranked to 13), the one I'm not friends with has just listed up a 2024 cock for auction. It's going to be interesting to see the end price, as this will determine the 2025 price of the mutation (and its rate of decline, as last year was the first year any were available ever).

Last year the auction ended at $6,800 for one male. In a really funny (to me) twist, he sent a blue to the winner instead of an ultramarine, because despite gloating that he was able to tell and my friend wasn't, he couldn't tell the difference in yearlings, either. It'll be EXTREMELY FUNNY if he does the same fuckin' thing this year. (and he did replace the bird, so the winner got the right bird eventually, it was just. very embarrassing for the self-proclaimed leader of peafowl breeding to be so wrong after bragging so much).

If you, like me, are nosy and want to keep an eye on the auction (and the others with het birds) and see where it ends, here is a link!

For reference, this is an ultramarine feather:

And this is an ultramarine bird from my friend's stock:

But they look almost exactly the same as blues when they're babies, and only start to really look different as 2yo birds.

So, it'll be interesting to watch go down again.

There's also a listing on here for UM feathers, I believe he's selling a dropped train, but I'm not sure of the number of feathers included in the lot, so maybe ask before spending a lot.

[lightlycareless]

just had to get it out of my system 2.0

warnings: none too grave. naoya unintentionally makes you feel insecure about your weight.

Naoya, the I’ve never had an official girlfriend before so I gotta make the best of it, deciding to show off his muscles by carrying you.

Naoya, the doesn’t know how to shut up not even for his own good, unsurprisingly ends up saying insensitive things to you when realizing he can’t carry you as effortlessly as he wanted—and if that wasn’t enough, he also had to be quite dramatic about it.

“Oh, Y/N—! You really have to lay off the mochi!” He jests, finding no unwarranted cruelty behind his words nor the hurt in your eyes as he continued to tease you. “You’re quite heavy—"

Naoya, whom even after you manage to jump down from his grasp and storm away, doesn’t find anything wrong with his actions. His words hadn’t come from genuine malice, after all.

But it’s not until the love-deprived Naoya, the one that quickly had come to realize he couldn’t live without you after seeing you for the first time, suffering the greatest of tortures at your persistent silence, that he finally realizes his mistakes.

That, alongside the consistent threats from your siblings, who were just waiting the slightest mishap on his part to prove their accusations, pushed him to do so.

However, Naoya didn’t even give them chance to retaliate, swiftly showering you with gifts to showcase how regretful he was—and how it was ok for you to indulge in the mochi you’ve dejectedly avoided since then.

And, of course, making it his personal challenge to demonstrate you weren’t too heavy, but rather, he was too weak.

How he managed to do such feat in such little time only serves to refute the misconceptions your siblings and friends had of him (or more like no longer applied) and once more show how utterly devoted, he was to make you happy.

“I need you to help me with something.” Naoya suddenly says, his request, while bold, doesn’t startle you.

“Hm? What is it?” you ask. “Is it paperwork again?”

“No, nothing like that. Just… stay there and—” with one swift movement, Naoya lifts you up, making you squeal and instinctively hold onto his shoulders, a combination of fear and shame envelopes you soon enough where you’re begging him to put you down.

“Please, just—let me go!” but he remains, only to continue surprising you upon realizing he wasn’t carrying you with both his arms, but rather… just one.

It’s confusing to you, to say the least; you didn’t know whether to indulge in your shock and gush at his undeniable improvement— or wonder why he insisted, after all, didn’t he label this endeavor agonizing to perform…?

Naoya wins you to it, however. Concern was written all over your face, there was no way he couldn’t point it out.

“You should know by now that I never back up from a challenge.”

“I didn’t know carrying me was a challenge…” you pout. “Seemed like punishment.”

“Oh, princess, having you like this can only be a pleasure.”

“Alright, alright!” you fluster, urging him again to put you down before a crowd gathers. “If you wanted to show off there were a million other ways to do so… instead of calling me fat and then working out to prove yourself wrong.”

“Fat? I never called you fat.” Per usual Naoya fashion, he would attempt to gaslight you and act as if that sensible moment had been nothing but a figment of your imagination, or, in this case, a misunderstanding. “I meant to say that’s how I get whenever I see you.”

“What? What do you mean that’s how you get? How can you get fat—” the understanding of his subtly crude words suddenly hits you, making the redness in your face burn even brighter as you decisively fight against his hold, just to avoid the embarrassment. “Oh, my god… You’re gross!!”

“Well, you can get as angry as you want, still doesn’t lessen the truth.”

“…When are you ever going to stop being gross?”

For someone like Naoya, you might as well be requesting the impossible.

But who are you kidding? It wouldn’t exactly be your Naoya if you asked him to be literally anything else but his genuine self.

And you’re not that far off either when it comes to perversions, he’d come to learn delightfully so in due time—but that’s a story for another time 😊

he didn't see anything wrong with his words at first until he heard someone (like one of his friends or relatives) say the same thing towards you and THEN was he like UH NO.

:)

[random-arcane-fan]

transcriptions below the cut

Arcane's relationship with League lore

I really don't know anything about LoR. The intent was to fill gaps in lore with Arcane, but stay mostly consistent. There's exceptions, certainly, we did have full support to tell the story we wanted and we wanted our characters' actions to feel consistent within Arcane.

Vi & Caitlyn

reply to AnComAlice: Ever since Vi came out in the game, I've always thought, "Why are you a cop?" Do you ever feel constrained by the source material?

Not in Arcane. I love telling difficult stories. Those are the best kinds.

reply to deebriedee: Will there still be "aww" moments between Cait & Vi even if a romantic relationship is established? So many shows have that one couple everyone ships but the moment they get together or the relationship is solidified by a kiss etc, nothing happens afterwards and I'd hate that.

I can't say anything about what may or may not happen. We are trying to tell believable stories based on characters' "lived" experience. That doesn't sound very believable to me?

reply to caitcupcakelyn: I have a question: Did Caitlyn falsify the release order on Jayce's behalf? Since when Marcus mentions it to Jayce he looks surprised, and also Mrs. Kiramman tells Kait that she has violated several rules...

Yes! She used the knowledge Jayce just told her about him becoming a Councilor, and the offer he made to become her "head of security" to falsify a release order.

not replies:

There are several moments in the season where Vi is surprised by Caitlyn and looks at her differently. The animators did a phenomenal job tracking that subtext with her expressions, but the storyboard artists also had a hand, giving Vi closeups in those key moments.

Vi mentions it in her first scene with Caitlyn, but the Warden was implying that they would beat Vi to punish her every time she would beat up one of Silco's goons that ended up in Stillwater.

reply to skyllianhamster: I was a bit taken aback by Vi's callousness at the kid Jayce killed. I imagine the context was regarding exposure to death, which Jayce hasn't seen much of, but I read it in the context of death as normal collateral damage, which sounded cold for Vi. Thoughts on that scene?

Vi doesn't show her real feelings about the boy's death because it doesn't help her make her point to Jayce. But when he's not looking you can see how upset she is.

Vi & Jinx

They were all children, even Vi. It was traumatic experience [sic] and no one can blame children for their trauma. What Jinx says is her own warped perspective. Honestly, they all need therapy.

Vi has put all her hope of saving Powder into defeating the villain she believes created her: Silco. She takes out years of pent up frustration and rage on Svika, whom she thinks is the only thing standing between her and Silco.

On why Marcus took Vi

Marcus felt guilty for how his dealings with Silco lead to the death of Grayson, and wanted to do something to make amends. Vi would've died if she went after Silco in that moment and he knew it.

On the words "god" and "hell" showing up in dialogue

I know there are beings in Runeterra that are revered like gods or goddesses so we are ok with characters using that terminology. That example wasn't in the script so it must have been added by Hailee and left in because the team liked what it brought to her performance so much.

On English being used

Practically, their writing is not English because our global viewers won't hear the show in English. Creatively, Piltover is a melting pot of cultures, the reason some things are written in it is similar to how we recognize words in other languages that have universal meanings.

How the hextech weapons work

The gemstone powered the rocket with Hextech augmented acceleration (similar to the Hexgates). It's not consumed, just like Vi's gauntlets and Jayce's hammer don't consume their gemstones.

Silco

Silco grew up working in the mines and has a little tolerance to the gas. He also knew it was coming, and the others didn't.

reply to Darkri97: I only have a few if thats alright 1) If the water itself is toxic and open wounds react the way they do like with Silco what happened to Vander's arm since it was cut? 2) Is there any concept art listing everyone's height? 3) could we ever see concept art of the whole cast?

1) The eye is a delicate organ, which is why Silco's reaction was so strong.

[nothing missing; if there were other answers, they're cropped out]

reply to thelittleworms: After Silco met and talked with Vi in ep 6. Did Silco really believe Vi didn't come for her sister. Or he told Jinx like that because h didn't want to lose her? Or another reason?

He lied to her to manipulate her feelings.

not a reply:

Silco wears make up in Act 2 & 3 to cover his scars. One way he tries to bury his trauma.

reply to TearsOfaStay: Hi Amanda. First, a bog [sic] thanks to you and all arcane staff for this fabulous show. I don't know you can still answer questions. Have you considered silco's character in kind of a father love for jinx or he just raised and kept her bcs of his aims for having zaun independent?

Silco has his own fear of abandonment issues and uses those to manipulate Jinx. Even though it comes from that twisted place, I think Silco believes what he says when he tells Jinx she's perfect and he loves her like a father.

Trauma

reply to miliamalae: Hi Amanda! The writing for Arcane is stunningly observant in terms of mental health, trauma and how difficult experiences shape people. Did you rely on some pre-writing research, or is it mostly your own intuition? Either way - it is absolutely incredible! Thank you so much.

This was a big team effort of both research and intuition. It's certainly not everyone's experience with trauma, but hopefully believable in the heightened reality of a fantasy world? Glad you thought so, anyways.

Vander & the kids

Vander knew the girls before. Mylo and Claggor's parents also died on the bridge and Vander took them in like he took in Vi and Powder.

Vi and Powder snuck out when they weren't supposed to and followed Vander and their parents. I don't know their ages, but I think we were going for Vi being about the same age here as Powder is in act one.

Viktor

We have a backstory for Viktor that wasn't made canon to explain how he got into the Academy. His parents saved their money to buy him a uniform and he pretended to be a student until he gained Heimerdinger's attention. Instead of punishing him, Heimer made him his assistant!!

Jayce's opinion on Heimer

reply to ELWINDS: hi amanda! when jayce decided to push heimerdinger off of the council, how much of that decision was based on what he ACTUALLY said in the council room (his inaction on fixing issues with zaun, etc) vs heimerdinger wanting to destroy his only hope for saving viktor?

This is my opinion, but in that moment Jayce was using all those things he mentioned as a tool, but all he really cared about was saving Viktor. If Heimerdinger wasn't going to use his power on the Council to destroy the Hexcore, I don't think Jayce would've done it.

not a reply:

Jayce has been dealing with the council through Mel to get his Hextech approved and to build the Hexgates for a long time. He's been frustrated with their inaction for longer than we see onscreen in the show.

Ekko

Ekko is a little older than Jinx, I think he's like 19–20. After Vander died he went around helping Silco's victims until they had a little rag tag crew of people like him who wanted to help. They found the tree and were able to slowly expand into the Firelights.

I think Ekko beat Jinx in that fight because he learned from his mistakes in the childhood game, and was able to predict and dodge her moves.

reply to Ronie_6: Hi Amanda! Here is a question that I think I haven't seen: Ekko's parents are alive in Arcane? Or is he an orphan? (In the Universe page he has a short story called Lullaby that mentions them, but in Arcane he seem [sic] to live with the firelights) Thank you so much for everything! 💖

Sorry, I can't answer this for many reasons. None of which I can share.

Just a collection of what I feel were the more interesting tweets from Amanda Overton’s AMA: 

Arcane’s relationship with League lore: 

(emphasis mine)

(I read the “consistent within Arcane” as “please stop bugging us over very minor nitpicks”)

Vi & Caitlyn:

(no offense but I interpret that as cop!Vi is absolutely coming)

Sounds pretty straight forward to me that yes of course Vi and Cait would still be romantic if they became a couple as she would consider the opposite to be not believable behavior. 

Vi & Jinx: 

On why Marcus took Vi: 

(LOL, no offense to Amanda, but I still think that that is a terrible reason/character motivation, to translate “he felt bad” to “I’m going to put a teenager in prison without a trial for 6-7 years” )

On the words “god” and “hell” showing up in dialogue: 

On English being used:

How the hextech weapons work: 

Silco: 

Glad to hear it, I was kind of worried they might rewrite him into somebody who was privileged somehow and hence being a hypocrite. 

(I read that as a “no” on “he was just using/keeping her for crime stuff” but on a “yes it is unhealthy because he is manipulating her because he clings to her due to his own abandonment issues”)

Trauma: 

Vander & the kids: 

Viktor: 

Jayce’s opinion on Heimer: 

Ekko: 

Just a list of topics she went “sealed lips” on: 

- people asking about how the League character of Camille intersects with the story of Arcane - people asking about more details on Ekko and Powder’s relationship

[makeitmingi]

The Cat and Dog Game [Bonus Chapter]

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Comedy

Pairing: Yunho x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Chef!Reader, RestaurantOwner!Yunho, MaitreD!Hongjoong, Waiter!Yeosang, Waiter!San, Waiter!Mingi, SousChef!Seonghwa, SousChef!Wooyoung, PrepChef!Jongho

Summary: Yunho's dream was to open and run his own restaurant. But he doesn't know anything when it comes to cooking. Until you came along and accepted the job, bringing with you a small crew. How will the black cat tame the energetic golden retriever?

Word count: 5.6K

Chapter warning(s): Slightly suggestive at the end.

"Happy birthday!" Wooyoung burst into your bedroom. You groaned and hid under the covers, snuggling closer to Seonghwa. But of course, Wooyoung put his whole body on top of yours to squish you with all his affection.

"Where's Yunho hyung?" Jongho asked, realising it was Seonghwa beside you and not your boyfriend.

"He said he had something on in the afternoon that he couldn't change and we'll celebrate my birthday tonight so Seonghwa came over at midnight to wish me and spend the night." You yawned.

"What?! And you didn't invite us?" Wooyoung screeched.

"Just know I am the first to wish her happy birthday like a true best friend." Seonghwa said with a smug smile on his face.

"It's just a birthday, guys. Like every other day. It's not that big a deal." You said, scooching over to the middle of the bed so Wooyoung could lie beside you instead of on top of you.

"You really know how to put a damper on a birthday, huh?" Wooyoung scoffed.

"It's my birthday. I can celebrate it however I want and right now, I want to stay in bed and do nothing." You declared, reaching over to pat Willow as she slept in her dog bed.

"Let's see if you can say the same when you find out your surprise." Jongho said. Seonghwa and Wooyoung both snickered. Now that got you more alert. Even if they knew your sentiments towards birthdays, the boys never fail to celebrate it with you somehow. Seonghwa always planned some sort of surprise.

"What surprise?" You asked.

"Now you're interested? I thought you wanted to stay in bed the whole day?" Seonghwa asked. You shot him a dirty look and jabbed his side, making him wince and curl up.

"Get dressed and ready to go out! Then we'll bring you to your surprise." Wooyoung patted your butt and pulled you to sit up.

"Alright, alright." You yawned and stretched your arms, getting out of bed and shuffling to your bathroom.

"Hwa, do you need your towel?" You asked before you closed the bathroom door. He came in to get it himself, getting his toothbrush at the same time.

'Happy birthday, love~ I'll see you tonight! Enjoy yourself with Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung and Jongho. I love you.

- Your yuyu'

You saw the post-it on the mirror in Yunho's familiar handwriting, making you smile. You didn't enter the bathroom after Yunho left so you guessed he left this behind for you.

'Thank you for the note. I have no idea where the 3 are dragging me to, it's a surprise they say. I'll see you tonight, I love you too. - (y/n)'

You sent a message to Yunho and finished getting ready. Seonghwa came to tell you not to dress too fancily, which only made you more curious and slightly worried that they might drag you to do some sort of physical activity.

"Is jeans and a t shirt okay...?" You poked your head out into the hallway.

"Yes. Now hurry and eat breakfast." Wooyoung rushed. You rolled your eyes and went to get ready, grabbing a black t shirt and a pair of simple jeans to dress in.

"You know, considering it's my birthday, you're actually making me feel slightly concerned about this surprise." You said to them.

"We won't kill you." Jongho assured.

"That's not very reassuring, Jong." You scoffed, sitting at the counter. Seonghwa slid you a coffee and a slice of toasted sourdough bread that he made fresh yesterday.

"I have whipped mascarpone in the fridge. Can you get me that and the cherry jam, please?" You asked.

"Sure." Seonghwa went to retrieve it. You spread both on your toast and took a bite. Seonghwa hummed as he made one for himself.

"There's something different about this cherry jam that you made. It doesn't taste like the regular one. Like there is a caramel flavour." Seonghwa noted.

"Yeah, I did something different. You know the homemade maraschino cherries that Jongho and I made last time with the rainer cherries? The ones that were soaked in rum. I added a few inside with the liquid they're soaking in. Thought the after taste of flavoured rum would add more depth." You explained.

"It's good. I like it and it doesn't taste alcoholic at all." Seonghwa nodded in approval. Wooyoung and Jongho came over to steal bites from you.

"The cherries didn't go bad?" Jongho asked. You shook your head.

"I think we added too little alcohol last time, that's why it went bad. This batch was just right." You said.

"Hurry up and eat or else we won't have time for your surprise." Wooyoung whined, rushing you. You laughed and shook your head, he was more excited than you were.

"I'm done, I'm done. Let's go." You finished the last bit of your coffee and kissed your pets goodbye.

"We'll drive." Jongho shook his keys. You all climbed into his car, with you and Seonghwa in the back seat, Wooyoung in the passenger.

"Do I get a hint?" You asked, looking out the window. The place didn't seem familiar and considering you just ate breakfast, you assumed they weren't going to drag you to another location to eat.

"Nope." Seonghwa was quick to shoot you down. You pouted at him and took your phone out to text Yunho. He felt really bad for missing half your birthday but you assured him you didn't put much importance on your birthday, it was just another day.

"Okay, blindfold time!" Wooyoung declared and Seonghwa nodded, taking the eyeshades out of his pocket.

"You guys are gonna drive me to a forest and leave me in a ditch to die, aren't you?" You looked at your best friend suspicious, backing up slightly towards the door.

"You are so dramatic, just as much as Wooyoung. Which says a lot." Seonghwa scoffed.

"Hey!" Wooyoung yelled out in protest. But you sighed and gave in, knowing you couldn't argue against the 3 of them on your own.

"Hold my hand so I know you aren't gonna do something to me." You said as Seonghwa put the eyeshades over your head, making sure not to mess up your hair too much.

"Fine, you're such a scaredy cat." Seonghwa teased, reassuringly grasping your hand in his.

"You guys are the ones who say I'm the cat." You reminded.

"Shhh." Seonghwa shushed you, carefully guiding your head so you could lay on his shoulder. Being blindfolded, you didn't know where to lean and he didn't want you to accidentally bump your head.

"Okay, we're here. Don't move, we'll get you out." Jongho said as you felt the car stop after he parked. You obediently didn't listen, continuing to lean on Seonghwa. Then you heard the door open and someone carefully guide you out of the car. You stood there, unsure of what to do next.

"Follow us. Walk slowly, there are no steps in front of you." Wooyoung told you and you cautiously took steps in front of you, each arm being held by someone.

"Alright, that's good. Stop here." Seonghwa said. You stood still, not really hearing or sensing anything until there was popping heard.

"Surprise! Happy birthday, (y/n)!" You removed the blindfold and gasped. All of the boys' families were there.

"Yunho!" Your eyes widened in surprise before you ran over to hug him. He laughed and wrapped his arms around you, leaning down to press his cheek against your head lovingly.

"You really know where her priorities lie." Mingi teased.

"Thank you all for coming." You said shyly, greeting all 8 sets of parents and siblings.

"I'm sure you're wondering why we got all our parents here, (y/n). Yes, it is to celebrate your birthday but basically, we needed mouths to feed for your real surprise." Seonghwa told you.

"This isn't the surprise?" You blinked in confusion.

"We're just a part of it, dear." Mrs Park giggled. Yunho grinned at you and pulled away the cloth that was covering a huge contraption. The moment your actual surprise was revealed, your jaw dropped at what you saw. You were in disbelief.

"Shut up, you didn't..." Was all you could say. Although Yunho's friends didn't really understand it, Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho did. After all, they planned this.

"Isn't that a kebab spinning thing? You know, where the meat goes." San leaned over to ask.

"It's her dream to operate one and carve meat off it. We've never got a chance to use it before." Wooyoung explained.

"Eeeee heheheh thank you! Thank you!" You squealed exictedly, unable to contain your excitement. Honestly, you didn't know who to hug so you hugged Yunho.

"You shouldn't thank me, love. They spent a long time explaining this to me." Yunho said, patting your head.

"Thank you." You hugged Seonghwa, Wooyoung and Jongho.

"You're welcome." Jongho patted your back. Wooyoung held your shoulders and led you to the doner spit. You rubbed your hands excitedly as you looked at all the ingredients laid out.

"She's really something. Only she would have such a wish on her birthday." Yeosang chuckled.

"That's what I love about her. She's so unapologetically her and she's so driven by food, which is her passion. I'll never understand it but I love seeing how happy it makes her." Yunho smiled, watching you excitedly put the meat on the spit with the biggest smile on your face. You were truly in your element.

"So how does this work?" Yunho came to stand with you.

"You put the meat on here. As the outside cooks, you carve it off and eat it on rice or in pita. Some people even have this machine that shaves off the meat." You told him.

"That's cool. Can't wait to eat it." Yunho kissed your temple since you were busy focusing on the meat.

"Did you manage to settle what you needed to do?" You asked.

"Oh yeah, I did... I'm all yours for the rest of the day. So don't eat too much because I'm taking you to dinner tonight." Yunho declared. You laughed and nodded.

"You guys are so gross." Hongjoong gagged. Yunho rolled his eyes at the older male's words.

"You're just jealous." He shot back. Wooyoung turned the doner spit on and the meat started the turn.

"Ooooh." Mingi went close to take a video but you instinctively grabbed the back of his shirt to pull him back, making him stumble and almost fall.

"Sorry! It's hot, Mingi. I didn't want you to burn yourself." You said. Mingi laughed and nodded, wrapping his arms around you to show how grateful he was that you stopped him. Seeing that, Yunho frowned slightly and plucked Mingi's hands off you.

"Aigo, Yunho ah. Don't be jealous." Yunho's mum giggled, making the other mums coo at him.

"I'm not!" Yunho squeaked, his ears turning a bright red. Hongjoong and Yeosang went around to give drinks out to people, as well as some plates and cutlery.

"We're ready for when the meat is done." San smiled.

"Yes, help yourself if you want rice or a pita. The sauces and vegetables are at the side." Seonghwa directed everyone.

"Go on, my love." Yunho said, holding his phone up to take a video of you carving meat. With a large knife, you began to carve the outer layer of the meat.

"It looks so good." Mingi said.

"It smells so good!" Yunho grinned excitedly. Of course, you weren't too interested in eating it so you fed some to him.

"So good." Yunho melted at the taste. You took turns with Seonghwa, Jongho and Wooyoung, each carving the meat and tossing it in the juices at the bottom of the spit before giving it out.

Yunho watched you from the side, eating his food and occasionally feeding you a few bites. He knew you weren't too interested in eating, just carving the meat off the rotating spit. You were really so happy, giggling to yourself and asking if people wanted more just so you could carve more meat off.

"I know you're having fun but you got to eat too, dear." The parents fussed over you, as usual. You were like the adopted daughter of each family, both fathers and mothers loved to fuss over you.

"I will! I will! Thank you!" You grinned. Mr Jeong patted your head with a fatherly smile.

"And we also want to give you this. Happy birthday." Mrs Jeong handed you a money packet.

"Omma?! Appa?!" Yunho blinked in disbelief. He usually get wishes from his parents and an occasional gift but never a money packet. You received it with a bow.

"Thank you." You hugged them.

"Us too!" Mr Song raised his hand and with his wife, they held out the money packet to you.

"Don't forget us." Haneul giggled, giving you an actual gift while her parents gave you a money packet. The 8 boys watched in disbelief, shock and jealousy as their parents gave you money.

"Spend the money on yourself, okay? Not on things to feed our sons." The parents said. You laughed and nodded your head. It was moments like these, you didn't need your biological father and stepmother in your life. You had 8 sets of parents and siblings here.

"This is so pretty! Thank you." You said, unwrapping Haneul's gift to find a Dior lipstick inside.

"So, will we get money during our birthdays too?" Hongjoong asked.

"Why would we give you money? You're already working." Mr Kim raised an eyebrow at his son's questions. Hongjoong's jaw dropped slightly at the blatant biasness.

"But you gave (y/n) money." Wooyoung protested.

"So? What's your point?" His mother asked, slapping the back of his head as she chided him.

"Wow, all this FAVOURTISM!" The boys protested. Yunho stood behind you, wrapping his arms over your shoulders. You looked up at him and he smiled down at you.

"Are you enjoying the food?" He asked.

"Mhmm but I enjoy the cooking and carving part much more. I mean, look at that thing." You giggled.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. Even if I don't really get it, I'm happy as long as you're happy." He leaned down to kiss your forehead upside down. You closed your eyes and smiled up at him, he was really the sweetest person ever. You put your hand over his own and squeezed it tightly.

About halfway through the little gathering, Yunho announced his leave. Of course, you were confused because you thought you were going to dinner after this.

"I actually have something to prepare." Yunho confessed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yun... You don't have to. I'd much rather you just spend time with me." You admitted, hugging him.

"I know. I'm sorry I'm leaving but I promise it'll be worth it." He pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You nodded, disappointed to part from him but you let him go.

"I'll see you." Yunho bid everyone goodbye, including his parents and Gunho before running off.

"Don't worry, he'll be fine." Seonghwa patted your shoulders.

"I know. But he doesn't have to do much, having him with me is all I need." You said, beginning to carve the remaining meat off to distribute it to the families and the other boys to take home.

"Now that you're done with that, let's have some champagne." You were whisked away by the mothers and a champagne flute was placed into your hand. There was a small toast, with everyone lifting their drink cups.

"Happy birthday, (y/n)!" They all cheered and drank whatever was in their cups.

"Thank you for the surprise and for coming down to spend my birthday with me. It was truly amazing." You smiled softly as you looked at everyone.

"Any time. We're family afterall." Gunho slung an arm around you.

"Take a picture of us and send it to my brother please." He requested. Of course, Mingi stepped up to do it.

"You are purposely trying to rile your brother up." Mr Jeong shook his head at his younger son's behaviour. Gunho nodded in confirmation, not even going to deny it.

RINGGGGGG

"Look what you did." You stepped aside from Gunho to take your phone out and saw Yunho's contact ID.

"Hey, love. Do you mind putting me on speaker please?"

The moment you did, Yunho's voice was no longer the sweet tone that he spoke to you in.

"JEONG GUNHO! YOU BETTER KEEP YOUR ARM OFF MY GIRL OR YOU'LL REGRET IT! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'LL DO YET BUT I WILL MAKE SURE IT IS SLOW AND PAINFUL! And it's not just me! You'll be dealing with Whiskey and Willow too! Okay, maybe not Whiskey since he doesn't care BUT WILLOW...!"

"You're not here to stop me though, are you hyung?" Gunho teased. You tried your best not to laugh at their banter but imaging Yunho's pouty angry face made you giggle.

"Baby~ Don't laugh at me~ Omma, they're bullying me."

"Yunho ah, you shouldn't be whining and complaining to me in front of your girlfriend." Mrs Jeong chuckled.

"Alright, alright. Don't whine, Yun. I promise I won't let Gunho have any physical contact with me anymore, okay? I'll see you soon." You hummed and hung up.

"Time for some pictures." Seonghwa declared.

"I'll take them!" Wooyoung raised his hand, taking his DSLR out of his bag and holding it up.

As you took pictures with people, you were kind of sad that you didn't have the chance to take a picture with Yunho before you left. But you swallowed that feeling, knowing you'll see him later.

"My turn! My turn!" Kyungmin jumped excitedly, running into your arms and posing immediately. You smiled and patted his head, smiling for the camera. Once everyone was done with their pictures, you bid them goodbye.

"Thanks again for making the time to come down here." You hugged all the parents.

"Stop sounding like you're inconveniencing us. You always make time for family and always spend time with family, even if there's no big occasion to." Mrs Kang wrapped an arm around you.

"Thank you for showing me what real family is." You tried your best not to get choked up.

"Nothing to thank us for. Don't forget, next week we're going for brunch." Mrs Kim reminded with a chuckle.

"Yes, I won't forget." You said, hugging her before they all left with the boys' siblings.

"Look at you, making brunch plans with our mothers and we're not even invited." San laughed, hugging you and lifting you up slightly. You giggled and patted his shoulder.

"Thank you again for the surprise and just being here with your families." You said to all of them.

"Stop thanking already! You know we will always celebrate your birthday, even if you wanna be a grumpy little cat about it." Jongho teased, making you playfully frown at him. It was still weird for you, even if your friends always celebrated your birthday. But to have family celebrating your birthday, it was still foreign.

"Sorry to break the mood but we have to get you home to get ready for your dinner with Yunho." Seonghwa cut in, having checked the time on his phone.

"Bye! I'll see you next week." You bid everyone goodbye. Wooyoung, Seonghwa, Jongho and yourself climbed back into Jongho's car.

"Do you know anything about Yunho's dinner surprise? Like where he is taking me or the cuisine?" You asked.

"Nope." The 3 replied.

"Now I know you guys are lying because you replied a little too quickly..." You crossed your arms with a scoff, knowing Yunho probably roped them into this surprise.

"Alright, we're here. See you tomorrow." They wished as they pulled up to the drop of point.

"Aren't you guys gonna come in?" You raised an eyebrow. They always invited themselves into your house.

"Sorry! We're busy!" Wooyoung quickly closed the door and Jongho drove off before you could say anything, leaving you standing there, dumbfounded. You blinked in confusion but shrugged and went up.

"Willow, Whiskey, I'm home." You opened the door, announcing your arrival to your pets. You were surprised to find your house lights already on, maybe you forgot to turn them off when you were rushed out of the house this morning.

"Surprise!" Your eyes widened when you saw Yunho standing there in the kitchen, wearing an apron, cooking something.

"What the..." You didn't even know what to say.

"Oh, my poor baby. Did I scare you? Your shocked face is so cute." Yunho laughed and came over, arms wide spread as he engulfed you in one of his bear hugs.

"How did you... When did you... What...?" You still couldn't even form coherent sentences.

"We always go to nice places to eat but as a surprise, I thought that I would try cooking for you." He explained.

"When?"

"I've been practicing with the help of Seonghwa hyung, Wooyoung and Jongho. That's why I wasn't here last night, I was busy preparing stuff at my apartment." Yunho revealed.

"Y-Yun, I don't know what to say. This is the best surprise ever." You looked up at him, tip-toeing to press your lips against his. You didn't know how else to express your gratitude. Yes, the others always do nice things for you and give you presents but this was a whole new level and you're not just saying that because its Yunho.

"Come! Sit down and wait to be served." Holding your hand, he guided you to sit down at the bar to watch him work.

"It'll only take a second for me to plate." He smiled. You nodded and observed him, taking a look around the kitchen too. There were amazing smells and the kitchen looked clean.

"Wow, this looks amazing." You said as Yunho placed the first dish in front of you.

"It's a kumquat infused confit tomato tartlet with balsamic caramelised onions and crumbled feta." He recited.

"Wait, let me take a picture." It was plated so beautifully that you had to take a picture. After that, you took a bite of it. The burst of flavour was so good.

"Yun, this is delicious!" You complimented.

"Really?!" He grinned. You nodded and gestured for him to eat one, you wanted him to taste his own creation.

"It is good... The pastry is homemade, I made it last night after practicing with Jongho multiple times. It's a shortcrust pastry with fresh thyme and a grating a nutmeg to enhance the tomato flavour." He explained as he chewed.

"It's really good." You were surprised that Yunho made his own pastry crust. It wasn't easy and with the complexities of the toppings, you wouldn't have judged him if he used store bought.

"Ah! I forgot the wine!" Yunho exclaimed and ran off.

"Yun! It's fine, please don't rush and hurt yourself!" You stood up, trying to see where he disappeared to.

"Wooyoung brought me to a nice wine shop. So this a pinot noir, light tasting to suit appetisers. Then with the main, we have a heavier, full-bodies cab sauv." He popped the cork.

"Ooh, exciting. I love wine pairings." You rubbed your hands as you watched Yunho fill two glasses.

"I know." He chuckled and placed the glass in front of you.

"Happy birthday, my love." Yunho beamed and held his glass out. You melted slightly with a soft smile, lifting your glass to lightly clink it against his own.

"Thank you, Yun. For everything, not just today." You leaned forward to give him a kiss again.

"You're always welcome, baby. Now, let's go to the next course. It's a soup course." He placed his glass down and grabbed a bowl, going to the stove. You tried to look at what soup he was serving but his body was blocking the hobs. When he turned around, he saw you trying to peek and laughed at your face.

"You look like Whiskey trying to take a peak at things." He teased but put the bowl down. You gasped, you knew the look of this soup and if it was really what you assumed it to be...

"Smoked chicken consomme." He confirmed.

"Oh my gosh." You stared at it. The soup was so clear and golden, a well made consomme indeed.

"I..." You didn't think you'd be so overwhelmed with emotion before even tasting the soup. But consomme is one of the hardest soups to make and for Yunho to execute it perfectly.

"WHY ARE YOU CRYING?! You haven't even tasted it yet!" Yunho panicked, seeing tears stream down your cheeks.

"I promise it doesn't taste bad, love. Are you scared to eat it?" Yunho came over to hug you to his chest.

"You idiot! Of course, I know it won't taste bad... I just know how hard it is to make a consomme. And you made it..." You cried into his chest. Yunho chuckled and kissed the top of your head.

"Baby, it's just a soup." He rubbed your back.

"It's not just a soup! It's consomme!" You wailed. A part of you felt guilty too, that Yunho did so much for you, it probably wasn't easy learning how to make this and to make it so perfectly. Imagining Yunho slaving away to make all these things for you, you did feel bad.

"But do you mind trying the soup before it gets cold? And I haven't even impressed you with my main yet." He whined. You let out a little laugh and pulled away from his embrace.

"You can cry again after the meal, okay?" He laughed and gently wiped your tears with his thumbs.

"You're mean." You frowned and turned to taste the soup. As expected, it was delicious. Full of chicken flavour with a hint of smoke.

"I didn't think you would cry two courses in." Yunho teased. You rolled your eyes.

"I have high expectations for the main now." You teased back.

"Which reminds me, it needs to go into the oven." He said and turned back to the kitchen. You saw him put something in the oven and set a timer. But he used his body to block you so you couldn't see.

"Why won't you let me see?" You pouted. Yunho playfully shrugged and refilled your wine glass.

"By the way, where are the kids?" You finally noticed that Willow and Whiskey were not around. And usually by now, Willow would be pawing at your feet for a bite of your food. Like you, most of the time, Whiskey would chill on his own so half the time, you wouldn't even realise he was in the room.

"They're in the room. Whiskey is chilling in his usual spot by the window and Willow's in her crate. Both have been fed. I wanted it to be more relaxing while you ate." Yunho informed.

"Yeah but honestly it's kinda weird to not have Willow whimpering for my food." You giggled.

"I, for one, do not miss it. She always eats my food." Yunho sighed and went back to the hob to work on other things.

"Because she knows between the two of us, you're the weaker one." You replied. Yunho pouted but knew you were not wrong, he gives into the animals way too easily.

Just like how you give into Yunho easily.

"I still can't believe you did all this. Got secret cooking lessons, spent last night preparing the stuff..." You smiled.

"I want your birthday to be special." Yunho put an arm around your waist. Even if you were on an elevated bar stool, he still towered over you greatly.

"Yunho, it'll be special no matter what. As long as I can spend it with the people I love. Everyday with you is special to me, it doesn't just have to be on my birthday or any other occasion." You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek.

"I love you." He turned his head to plant a soft kiss against your palm. Just then, your moment was interrupted by the kitchen timer. Yunho broke away to retrieve the main from the oven.

"I'll just quickly plate up while it rests." Yunho smiled and turned around to plate the dish.

"Take your time." You chuckled, watching his back move.

"Beef wellington with garlic pomme puree and charred winter vegetables... With pan jus on the side." He put the plate with a gravy boat before you.

"Yun! This looks beautiful! A beef wellington?!" You exclaimed, snapping a few pictures while he changed your wine.

"The beef didn't cook like I intended. It's a bit more medium than medium rare..." Yunho said with slight frustration.

"No, it's great, Yun. Give yourself more credit." You rubbed his knuckles with your thumb. Taking the cutlery, you cut into the wellington and poured some of the jus over it.

"Yunho, it's absolutely delicious. The layers are so flavourful and the textures are perfect." You said as you chewed. Yunho thought you were adorable, kicking your feet and letting out little sounds of happiness. He rarely saw you like this, only when you were really content and happy.

"Eat it, Yun!" You laughed.

"I feel full just by watching you eat." He cooed teasingly with a smug smile on his face. You shot him a disgusted look, knowing he was doing this on purpose.

"I will not unleash my wrath on you only because you cooked this amazing meal." You threatened.

"Now, I understand why you guys get annoyed when the meat is cooked slightly over or under." Yunho chuckled.

"That's all that matter, Yun. I'm so proud of you, you've come so far with your cooking and all these dishes are not easy. Looks like I've lost a cooking assistant." You joked.

"You know what I'll always be your assistant, any day, any time." Yunho grinned.

"Shall I talk to Manager Kwon?" You asked.

"Okay, let's not get ahead of ourselves, I cooked one meal for you, love. I'm definitely not qualified to work at Anne Sophie's michelin starred restaurant." Yunho laughed, holding onto you.

"Are you ready for dessert?" Yunho turned to you. You nodded, giving him a kiss before he returned to the kitchen. He fixed a plate and turned around. There was a small sticky toffee pudding with a candle stuck in it, hovering his hand around the flame.

"Happy birthday to you~" Yunho began to sing with a big smile on his face. You clapped softly, watching him as he sang to you.

"Happy birthday, my love. Make a wish."

"Thank you, Yun. I don't need to make a wish, I already have all that I need." You still closed your eyes. You wished for the people around you to always stay happy and healthy, and blew out the candle.

"Here." You and Yunho each held a spoon, digging into the dessert to share it together.

"This has been an amazing meal, Yun. You'll have to cook for me again soon." You smiled after taking a bite.

"I'll continue to practice and cook for you any time you'd like." He winked.

After the dessert was done, you insisted on helping Yunho with the cleaning. But he cleaned as he cooked so there wasn't that much cleaning to do. Then you both got ready for bed.

"Happy birthday again, love." Yunho said, hovering over you, caging you in his arms.

"You made my birthday perfect, Yun." You reached up to cup his cheeks. Maybe with Yunho around, you would start liking to celebrate your birthday. Your birthday was always a bitter reminder that your mother got sick after giving birth to you, that's why you never liked to celebrate it.

"Hey... Come back to me, love..." Yunho's voice pulled you out of your deep thoughts. You looked up to meet his eyes, feeling his thumb wipe a stray tear off your cheek.

"Sorry." You whispered, leaning into his touch.

"Nothing for you to be sorry about." He shook his head with an understanding smile.

"I still miss my mom. And my birthday was always a reminder that she started to get weak and sick because of my birth. My dad always told me that." You looked at him through your tears.

"It's not your fault, baby. I'm sure your mother doesn't blame you." Yunho comforted.

"If I wasn't born, she would still be here." You breathed.

"If you weren't born, I wouldn't have met you. I wouldn't have you right here, in my arms." He leaned down to hug you. Now, Yunho knew why you didn't like celebrating your birthday.

"I'll make you love your birthday again. Every year, every day." He vouched, voice filled with determination. Yunho would show you the care and appreciation you needed, he wanted to erase what your dad did, he hated how your dad made you hate your own birthday.

"Thank you for loving me." You hugged his neck. Yunho pulled away and gave you a sweet kiss, his forehead resting against yours.

"Now, about that picture you took with Gunho. Why did you allow him to put his arm around you for the photo?" Yunho asked with a small frown.

"Honestly, I thought I was going to take a picture with him and your parents. But he came in and asked Mingi to take the picture."

"I knew it. Trying to take what's mine." He rolled his eyes.

"He was just trying to get under your skin, Yunho. There's no one else but you. I love you and you only." You giggled.

"Good. Because you're mine and I'm not afraid to remind you of that... over and over again." He smirked and leaned in again, fingers caressing the exposed skin of your hip. You gulped, knowing you were in for a long night.

~

Series masterlist

[coyle-and-co]

franco did always have such a mouth on him

au ramble beneath the cut because it’s my blog and i get to post what i want (it’s super long)

if ! you have noticed there are two versions of dolly that i draw, one with the gas mask and long, shaggy hair and one without and more refined

that’s because i have two separate aus for my ocs !! Howler and Gas mask Dolly are post!murkoff, which takes place with in the canon of outlast trials so not very exciting i know

pre!murkoff is where i get DEVIOUS because i am incredibly attached to pre!m Dolly HAHA

Pre!Murkoff dolly is a washed up speakeasy jazz singer preforming at one of the many casinos owned under Franco’s “business”, not like Dolly’s aware of who Franco really is outside of his moniker of “il Bambino”. He knows of him, knows his reputation but he’s never seen him before and doesn’t really give a shit about him as far as he’s concerned

However…! One night franco actually happens to be there at the same time as Dolly preforming, and he gets all googoo eyed because in his mind there’s a really pretty broad up on stage singing the blues to him, it’s not love at first sigh because all Franco wants to do his have Dolly put his heel through his throat

Of course, Franco can’t do anything normally and gets a bit pushy about getting dinner, and Dolly’s broke so thinks he could just steal his wallet or flirt him into paying his rent. Franco is unaware that he’s on a date with a dude, and is just happy someone seems interested

Franco does eventually find out Dolly’s not female and he’s mad about it but mostly that he didn’t figure it out. Despite the fact they can’t actually stand each other most of the time they’ve grown so used to being in each others presence that they don’t like being apart

Salvatore comes to visit Franco, since in this AU they do have connect it’s just minimal. Basically he got wind Franco’s been seen with the same “woman” (hah) repeatedly. Franco rightfully panics because oh my god what if his father finds out he’s seeing Dolly? What if he finds out Dolly’s a man? Franco blurts out that they’re getting married that’s why, and Sal just looks at him like he doesn’t believe him and tells Franco he pities Dolly

Franco convinces Dolly to actually marry him, but there’s no wedding, no reception, just a trip to the courthouse to sign a few documents. They’re legally married, and they hate each other

because i hate allowing gay people to be happy they do not say “i love you”, they argue day in and day out over things that wouldn’t matter, Dolly throws Franco out more times than he can count. But they know every fine detail about each other’s behavior and lives. Dolly even fully accepts Franco’s manchild-ness, though he does get disgruntled at times

Eventually it all leads to one massive argument and Franco calls things off and storms out, because we’ll, they don’t love each other, but those few days apart suck was and they can’t be away for long. Franco goes back to Dolly’s rundown apartment and lets himself in since he never did change the locks.

Dollys got no make up on, curled up in bed tear stained, and ends up sobbing at Franco about how he genuinely does care for him, can’t picture spending his life with someone else, how he wants to grow old together - but he doesn’t say i love you (they never do they both die and never utter i love you)

Franco blue screens for a bit but it does help their relationship at least somewhat

okay ramble over if u read all of this ily mwa mwa

[halsteadlover]

𝐀𝐧 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐞

*Pics not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Fem!Reader.

• Requested by @hart-kinsella: Basically, the fan fic could be set at one of Jay's Intelligence colleagues' wedding and mc is one of the bride's closest friends; the bride wants to set her up with one hot cop (could also be one who works on patrol). It could either be that the 'chosen' guy is not Jay, but then mc and Jay naturally connect at the reception (maybe through her wanting to avoid the guy she's set up with) or Jay being the 'set up' guy from minute 1 and them just meeting there (with the usual embaressement that comes from friends insisting you should get together) and hitting it off immediately.

• Warnings: curse words/strong language, mention of alcohol consumption, lots of tension and physical contact, heavy making out, suggestive at the end.

• Word count: 8.8k

• A/N: PLEASE READ ONLY IF YOU’RE 18+ DUE TO SUGGESTIVE THEMES. The way I was so excited about this fic but I reread it and now I hate it why am I like this 😭 Let me know in the comments what do you think about this one, I love you all ❤️

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” you said to Kim as you watched her sip the champagne from her glass, her huge ring shining against the lights of the room.

She was radiant, a smile plastered on her lips as wide as you had ever seen her in all the time you were friends. She was happy and your heart exploded with joy seeing her finally have her happy ending with Adam, especially after everything they’ve been through.

She looked beautiful in her white wedding dress and you couldn’t hide the tears of happiness you shed when you saw her walk down the aisle, a radiant smile on her lips. Adam looked at her with eyes so bright and full of love it made you wonder if there’d ever be someone who’d look at you like that, as if you were the only person who mattered, as if without you he couldn’t even breathe.

“Of course it’s a good idea! There’s nothing better than a blind date with a hot cop,” she finished sipping her champagne and set it down on the tray as a waiter walked by, thanking him immediately after. “You don’t trust me? Have I ever let you down on the men front?”

You didn’t respond, just looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

“Okay there might’ve been some unfortunate meetings but this won’t be the case. Please, please, please. I swear he’s a really cute and good guy!” She begged, putting on her cute puppy face that not even the devil could resist.

Little bitch.

You sighed and rolled your eyes and that was enough to make her clap her hands with joy. “Only because it’s your day.”

“You won’t regret it, I promise.”

The fact was you were already regretting it.

You had never been very good at blind dates, you hated not knowing who you were going to talk to and spend the evening with, you wanted to be able to decide first if you liked that person. What if you didn’t like him, or if he didn’t like you? It would’ve been very awkward.

Actually, it was. It was definitely awkward.

Kim had pointed out from afar a man who was talking to Adam—ignoring how the latter was watching Kim without ever taking his eyes off her even while talking to other people—and you took your time to observe him.

He was a tall man, from behind you noticed his ash blonde hair and a statuesque body that was embraced by a tuxedo. Without even saying anything, Kim grabbed your hand and dragged you towards them, ignoring your signs of protest.

You were so nervous and you hated it.

And it certainly didn’t help that Kim had made it her mission to pair you up with someone, since you were the only single girl in your group of friends.

But you were happy, you weren’t lonely, you were fine being alone and that was important, you didn’t need a man by your side to determine your happiness. You defined your own happiness.

“Hi babe,” Kim greeted her husband, who smiled before sliding his arm around her hips and kissing her. The two of them were so in love it was almost disgusting. “Sorry I was rude. Caleb, I wanted you to meet my friend.”

Your cheeks flushed red as you felt the man’s gaze on you. “Oh so you’re the famous Y/n right? I’ve heard so much about you.”

God please have mercy.

“I hope only good things,” you replied with a smile and offered him your hand, which he immediately shook. The way his eyes moved up and down your body made your skin crawl, and the smirk he had plastered across his lips as he looked at you didn’t suggest anything good.

You pulled your hand away, forcing a smile as he started to speak, and cursed both Kim and Adam when you saw them sneak away, both giggling as they left you alone with that guy.

As they say, a woman’s sixth sense is like a gift, it never fails.

And it didn’t even take half an hour of talking to Caleb to realize he was self-centered and you’d never see him again. He talked your ear off as if you’d known each other your whole life, focusing mostly on him, his work, the gym, his exploits. You nodded every now and then, just to give him the impression you were listening when in reality your mind had dissociated after the first ten minutes of conversation.

And by conversation you obviously meant monologue.

He didn’t ask you anything, and by nothing you really meant nothing, not how old you were, your job, your hobbies, in short the simple questions one asks when one is getting to know another.

You looked around bored, cursing Kim and yourself with every fiber of your being for letting yourself being dragged—for the million time— in a situation you didn’t want to be in.

You decided you’d never take a single piece of her advice about men ever again.

“Once, when I was still on patrol, there was a robbery a few blocks away. I was alone and when I got there the thief was already running. I’ll make this short but even the commander congratulated me…”

You were trying really hard to listen to him but every time you tried to pay attention, he was still talking about himself. It was hard to follow his conversation/monologue without being fascinated by some random spot in the room like the chandelier.

Caleb was a beautiful man, that was objective. He was tall, broad-shouldered, he had a sculpted physique, defined jaw, eyes as blue as the sky. But beauty wasn’t everything, not when his character was similar to a mollusk.

“Hey baby, here you are, I’ve been looking for you for a while,” a male voice reached your ears from behind and you almost had a heart attack when you felt an arm wrap around your shoulders. You snapped your head towards the man, finding yourself in front of one of the most beautiful man you’d ever see.

Forget Caleb, who the hell was this man?

You froze, having no idea what to say or do. Who the hell was he? What did he want?

“Sorry it took so long but the line for the bathroom was endless,” the stranger continued and you tried with every fiber of your being to remain impassive. Your body was tense as a violin string as you tried to subtly move away from his grasp.

Breathtaking or not, you didn’t know him.

“Baby? You have a boyfriend? Kim told me you were single,” Caleb exclaimed almost indignantly, alternating his gaze between you and the stranger. You thanked God he was a second-rate cop and had the detective skills of a hamster or he would’ve seen from a mile away this was the first time you’d seen that man around you.

“Oh, well this is pretty new not many people know about us, but we’ve been seeing each other for a while. Thanks for keeping my girlfriend company—”

“Caleb.”

“Carl. Thanks,” the stranger held out a hand and Caleb looked at it before looking back at you and walking away without a word, a furious expression on his face.

You didn’t even bother following him because damn, you were so relieved you got him out of the way.

The stranger’s gaze was on you even though he had removed his arm from around you.

“Well, I guess you need to work on your acting skills but it went well right?”

You widened your eyes, still confused about what the hell was going on. “Who are you?”

“Oh you’re welcome, I didn’t just save you from the most boring date of your life,” he smirked.

You continued to look at him, confused, embarrassed and unable to form a coherent sentence. Who the hell was this man? And why was he so breathtakingly handsome? And why did he just pretend to be your boyfriend?

He held out a hand towards you, a smirk plastered across his lips, acting like he hadn’t just pretended to be in a relationship with a stranger. “I’m Jay Halstead. You must be Y/n right? It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Jay? Why does this sound familiar?

You widened your eyes, not even trying to hide your expression of fear and shock. “How do you know my name?” You asked, taking a step back, ready to run away.

His gaze softened, understanding he must’ve really looked like a stalker. “Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you, I work with Kim in Intelligence. She mentioned you a couple of times and I assumed it was you since you’re the only one of her friends I’ve never met.”

Then you realized why his name was familiar to you. Kim—when talking about her job—had sometimes mentioned a ‘Jay’ and it was nice to finally be able to associate the face with that name, especially if the face was that one.

God he’s so hot.

“Listen,” he continued, raising his hands in surrender, a drink in the left one, “I’m not a stalker I swear—I came off in the wrong way. I just saw you from afar while you were talking to Carl, and you seemed to be in trouble so I thought I’d help. Let’s start over, shall we?”

You tried not to chuckle at the way he got Caleb’s name wrong and stared at him for a moment. He maintained eye contact, his irises locked on yours with no sign of changing direction. You had only just noticed how green his eyes were and you didn’t know why, but something inside you made you no longer want to run away.

You nodded and he smiled triumphantly and, God, he had one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen. He held out a hand to you again. “I’m Jay, nice to meet you.”

You tried to suppress a smile of your own and you clasped his hand. “It’s Y/n, the pleasure is mine.”

That handshake sent a spark up your entire arm, not in the cliché kind of way, but in the way that made you feel your body suddenly enveloped in a wave of heat.

He didn’t let go of your hand right away, but you didn’t care. You liked it, you liked the way his grip was strong, firm, confident, but his touch soft at the same time. You liked how his palm felt rough against yours but his skin was warm, a stark contrast to yours.

His thumb skimmed against the back of your hand before he pulled it away, bringing the glass to his lips with his other hand and taking a sip of his drink. All without him ever breaking eye contact with you.

This single innocent gesture left you breathless.

Did I mention he’s so damn hot and sexy?

He looked at you with curiosity, as if he had already decided that from now on his attention would be solely on you.

“This is the part where I have to thank you for saving me from an embarrassing date, isn’t it?”

His eyes flickered for a second on your lips as you spoke and he subtly took a deep breath, taking another sip of his drink. You pretended it didn’t affect you in the slightest even though your stomach had just flipped.

“You not filing a complaint against me is a great thank you,” Jay replied making you laugh, “and besides, I should be the one thanking Kim.”

You tilted your head slightly to the side, looking at him with a questioning expression. “Kim? Why?”

“For setting you up with the wrong guy, might’ve missed my shot otherwise.”

You burst out laughing again and rolled your eyes. “C’mon Jay, is that the best you can do?”

“Ouch,” he put his hand to his chest as if he was in pain. “That really hurt, I may be rusty but I’m not that bad c’mon.”

You smirked. “You’ll survive officer.”

“Nuh, uh. It’s detective, please.”

“My bad, I apologize Detective,” it was your turn to raise your hands in surrender. “But seriously, thank you for saving me from whatever that was.”

He smiled softly at you. “It was a pleasure. You were a couple seconds away from pulling the fire alarm to escape, I couldn’t just stay there and do nothing.”

“Oh, so you make a habit of being a knight and saving damsels in distress?”

“Nah, only the ones that are worth saving,” he replied, and you laughed, feeling that anxious and nervous feeling fade away as you continued to converse—for real this time—with Jay.

“I could’ve gotten away with it, you know,” you crossed your arms and Jay’s eyes flickered, for a millisecond, to your chest, specifically the neckline of your dress.

“Please,” he raised an eyebrow, “if he had kept talking any longer you would’ve ripped your hair out.”

“Stop you’re so dramatic, that’s not true at all,” you rolled your eyes—even though it was the truest thing you had ever heard—making him chuckle. “What’s your poison?” You nodded to his drink as he brought it to his lips and took a sip.

A teasing smile caressed his lips and then it was your turn flicking your gaze to his mouth. You had tried to resist but damn it was so hard. “Bourbon, neat. Effective right?”

You raised an eyebrow, mirroring his playful energy. “Is efficient a new fancy way of saying banal and predictable?”

He let out a soft laugh, the sound so low and warm it made your insides squirm. “Probably,” he countered, “but it’s still a classic.” He slightly tilted his head to the side as his green eyes roamed along your body, lingering for a moment on your dress before meeting your gaze again. You felt every inch of your skin catch fire under his eyes and you couldn’t help but compare Jay’s gaze to Caleb’s, which only made your skin crawl instead. “But it’s not for you. I think you’re more of a champagne kind of woman.”

At that same moment, by pure coincidence, a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses passed not far from you. Jay stopped him and took it, before offering it to you. You blushed, before taking it, your fingers brushing against him. “Thank you.”

You lifted your glass towards him, a quiet smile playing on your lips. “To Kim and Adam,” you said.

“To Kim and Adam,” he repeated voice low and smooth. He raised his glass to meet you, the soft clink echoing between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke—his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. It was just a toast, simple and harmless, but the way he was looking at you? Nothing about it felt simple.

“So, you’re a champagne type of woman,” he smirked.

“Guilty,” you shrugged your shoulders. “But what can I say? I like little sparkle in my life.”

You took another sip of champagne and that time it was your gaze that roamed along his body, perfectly wrapped in the tux he was wearing—over the broad lines of his shoulders, the way his dress shirt stretched just right across his chest.

Man, he looked so good it had to be illegal.

When your eyes returned to his you noticed the way he clenched his jaw and the slightest twitch of his lips as he looked at you, as if he knew exactly what you were doing but didn’t mind a bit.

His fingers flexed around his glass and a sexy smirk appeared on his lips, his eyes shining like the moon in the night. He slightly tilted his head to the side, his index finger brushing along the rim of his glass in a slow, absent-minded motion—like he was thinking about something he probably shouldn’t say out loud. “A little spark huh? And here I thought I was bringing the spark.”

You giggled. Yep, actually giggled. “Oh yeah? So that’s what you’re doing?”

“If you’re asking me then I’m not doing a good job,” he retorted, with a fake sad expression acting like he just wiped a tear, “you’re hurting me so much tonight.”

“Oh, you poor thing, I’d hate to bruise that big ego of yours.” You placed a hand on his bicep and caressed it in mock comfort and, fuck, you had to use every fiber of your body to not squeeze and feel up his muscles.

He tensed under your touch, his breath hitching in his throat feeling of your hand on him.

His lips curved into a slow, lazy smile—the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he drew, his voice dropping just a notch lower. “I can take a hit. Besides…” His gaze swept over you again, slower this time—unapologetic. “Something tells me it’s worth it.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the smile threatening to break free, but to no avail. He was too good at this—too smooth, too charming, but damn if it wasn’t working.

“Careful Detective Halstead someone might think you’re flirting with me,” you smirked, taking another sip of your champagne.

He shortened the distance between you, subtly and not too noticeably, but you felt his presence, his scent enveloping you fully, more than it had done so far. “Luckily I don’t care about anyone but the person I’m talking to right now,” he replied, “and they’d be right because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

The air between you grew heavier—not uncomfortable but charged with something unspoken. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the noise of the wedding reception fading into a distant hum. You should’ve looked away, said something to break the tension, but you didn’t want to.

You’ve never felt anything like this, being so damn attracted to a man you were dying to kiss him, to touch him.

“So confident,” you murmured. You tried to keep your eyes on his, but you couldn’t, not when his mouth was not too far from yours. “And here I thought you were just being nice.”

He chuckled, his voice low and deep. “Trust me sweetheart, there’s nothing nice about what I’m thinking right now.”

You took another sip, hoping to steady the warmth curling low in your stomach. Why were your legs suddenly turning to jelly?

“So…” you started, arching a brow in an attempt to shift the focus back on him, “do you flirt like this with every girl you save, or am I just special?”

Jay’s smile widened and he took a slow sip of his bourbon before answering. “You tell me,” he said, his voice smooth as silk. “Do you feel special?”

Damn him.

You laughed softly, shaking your head and taking a deep breath at the same time. “You’re trouble, Halstead.”

He didn’t deny it. “And yet, you’re still talking to me,” he pointed out, eyes gleaming with mischief. “What does that say about you?”

“That I make questionable decisions?”

Jay let out another quiet laugh, but this one felt different—lower, warmer. “Or maybe,” he murmured, leaning in a bit towards you, “you’re exactly where you want to be.”

And the truth? You weren’t sure you could argue with that because he was right, you were where you wanted to be.

You finished the rest of your glass in a single sip because there were two possibilities, this or jump on him and you couldn’t already do that considering you had just met him.

He was throwing you off so much it left you speechless and it wasn’t like you. You didn’t know if you loved it or hated it.

He chuckled as he continued to look at you, as if he had just read your mind.

Your guardian angel, Kim—who you’d thank for the rest of your life from that moment on—appeared at that exact moment, interrupting the game of glances between you and Jay that was becoming too intense for your own good.

“Jay! Y/n? Where’s Caleb?” She asked, visibly excited and smiling.

“I have no idea, courtesy of my fake boyfriend here,” you nodded at Jay who chuckled sexily.

How could laughter be so sexy?

“We need to talk about your questionable taste in men Kim, what kind of rat did you want her to be paired with?” He joked one hand shoved into his pants pocket while the other held his almost empty glass.

“Hey, don’t talk to my wife like that, I’d say she made a good choice in men,” Adam suddenly intervened, wrapping his arm around Kim’s hips and pressing a kiss to her temple. The sight warmed your heart, making you smile like an idiot.

“So, you’ve already introduced yourselves,” Kim continued, alternating her gaze between you and Jay but with a sinister smirk on her lips.

You and Jay exchanged a quick knowing look. “Yeah, he saved me from the mess that was Caleb. And by the way, I’m never listening to you ever again Kim, don’t do that to me again.”

“You two look so good together,” Kim blurted out and giggled, visibly tipsy. “Don’t you think they look hot together honey?”

“Okay that’s enough, let’s get back to dancing,” Adam chimed in again, struggling to contain his laughter, before dragging his wife away.

Before she left though Kim came back to you and whispered, “I was watching you two from afar there’s so much sexual tension between you two that even I got turned on.”

Your cheeks turned on fire but before you could respond Adam finally dragged her away, leaving you alone with Jay again.

He let out a light laugh, and you turned your head towards him. “Do I want to ask you what she said?”

You shook your head, taking another sip of champagne as you still heard her words echoing in your head. “Nope.”

He looked at you for a moment, his eyebrow raised. “Kim really does have questionable matching skills, I take it this isn’t the first time with Carl,” he said, changing the subject.

“You have no idea,” you rolled your eyes, “my brain can’t comprehend how she managed to match me with these men and not one of them was normal.”

“Well, have you thought that maybe they weren’t the problem?”

You gasped in fake shock and elbowed him in the side, and he pretended to be in excruciating pain, making you laugh at the show he was putting on. “I could arrest you for assault on a police officer you know that right? You’d look really pretty in a prison uniform.”

“You think I’ll look cute in handcuffs too?”

What the fuck?! Where the hell did that come from?

Jay, who was taking his last sip of bourbon, chocked on it and started coughing after the liquor went down the wrong way and, although you were embarrassed by the stupidity of that statement, the scene was pretty hilarious.

“You good? Should I call a doctor? What happened?” You teased him, trying to hold back your laughter but failing miserably.

“You know damn well what happened,” he retorted with mock annoyance even as the smile on his lips belatedly came. “And pretty wouldn’t even come close to how good you’d look in handcuffs if you really wanted an answer, but that’s something we’ll talk about later.”

You blushed, once again, from head to toe and hated yourself for this reaction and how easily he could see it. “Later? Who says there’s gonna be a ‘later’?”

He smirked down at you, and it was so sexy it made your head spin. “Trust me there will be.”

“You’re so cocky detective.”

Jay leaned in just a fraction, enough that the faint scent of his cologne wrapped around you—something warm and woodsy, with a hint of spice. “Only when I’m sure about something,” he said, his voice softer now, but no less intense.

His words hung in the air, thick and heavy, and you felt heat creep up the back of your neck. You could've played it cool, thrown back a quip, but the way he was looking at you made your pulse skip in a way that was impossible to ignore.

His gaze dropped to your lips again—just for a second—but it was enough to send a fresh wave of heat curling through your body.

“C’mon,” he said suddenly, holding out a hand towards you. “You owe me a dance.”

You lifted a brow. “Do I?”

Jay shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I did save you from Carl. Seems only fair.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t fight the smile that broke free as you slipped your hand into his. “Alright, Detective,” you quipped, “but only because you asked so nicely.”

His fingers curled around yours—firm, warm, just the right amount of possessive. And as he led you toward the dance floor, you realized something else: you didn’t want to let go.

The music shifted as you reached the edge of the dance floor—something slower, smoother, the kind of song that practically begged for two people to be just a little too close.

Exactly what you wanted.

Jay didn’t hesitate. His hand slid easily to your waist, fingers splayed warm and wide on the small of your back as he pulled you against him, close enough to send all your senses into a tizzy.

It had been hard until now, but this? Being so close to him that you could even count his eyelashes? It was devastating.

You couldn’t even recognize yourself, you’d never found yourself craving a man’s touch so badly, like you needed it to breathe, and in that moment you realized you’d only met the wrong people because, fuck, you were missing out.

“You good with this?” he murmured in your ear, his voice just for you. Low. Intimate. And there was something in the way he asked—like he cared, but also like he already knew your answer.

You nodded, hoping he didn’t feel the way your heart was beating against his chest. Your bodies began to sway in time to the slow music, like you’d done it a million times, like he wasn’t a stranger to you and you a stranger to him.

You didn’t know anything about the man, and he didn’t know anything about you, but you were so drawn to each other it almost drove you crazy.

As you engaged in small talk, you tried not to focus on how close he was—on how his thumb brushed against your back every time he shifted—but it was impossible. Especially when every slight movement seemed to make the space between you shrink.

He asked about you, what do you do for a job or in your free time, how old were you, how long have you known Kim, you asked about him and his life, and it was crazy how, even though you had known each other for literally a short time, you both felt comfortable talking to each other, joking and laughing when you both made terrible jokes.

“You’re really giving me a hard time,” he said, his fingers flexing on your hip.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, realizing how he was already looking at you. There wasn’t any trace of humor left, his eyes were staring at you, but they weren’t focused on yours exactly, they traveled along your face as if he was analyzing you, memorizing every feature and detail.

“Why?” You asked and his eyes flickered on your lips. He continued to caress your hip unconsciously, your bodies pressed against each other and with every slight movement you could feel the heat between you intensifying.

“Because I’m trying so hard to behave and be a gentleman but it’s getting really hard,” he answered softly, his voice raspy, his breath an inch from your lips. “And I hate not being in control.”

You stopped breathing for a second and a shiver ran down your spine. It would’ve been so easy to break that distance, it would’ve only taken a couple of inches and his mouth would’ve been on yours to finally satisfy that visceral attraction that was pulling you towards each other.

And you most likely would’ve let him do it if it hadn’t been for Kim who, with her usual perfect timing, had grabbed your arm, totally drunk and with a beaming smile.

“C’mon Y/n, we have to dance together!” she exclaimed loudly, jumping up and down with an enthusiasm you had never seen in her as she continued to pull on your arm without even leaving you room to protest.

Jay’s arm was still around your hip, though his grip wasn’t as firm as it had been before, and you hated to admit it, but you already missed that touch.

It seemed mutual because you felt him tense for a moment, his fingers reluctant to release their grip on you, as if he also hated the idea of letting you go. But eventually he did, slowly, the heat of his hand still burning through your dress and against your skin even after you’d pulled away.

“Don’t go too far,” he whispered in your ear, quiet enough to make it seem like a secret between the two of you.

And as Kim dragged you through the crowd to the beat of a more upbeat song, you turned to him and gave him one last look. Jay was still there, standing at the edge of the dance floor, his hands stuffed in his pockets, that intense gaze still fixed on you. He winked at you before you disappeared into the crowd and you almost tripped on your own feet.

Oh my fucking god.

Jay leaned against a wall, his hands still in his pockets, one foot placed in front of the other. In other moments he wouldn’t have waited to take another drink, but that night he wanted to be as sober as possible.

His gaze was fixed on the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor, but not on everyone, his eyes scanned the people only for one person in particular. He cursed those disco strobe lights because, in those dim lights, it was not easy to find you.

But when he finally did, his attention was focused only and solely on you, not on the music, not on the world around him.

You were laughing now, spinning with Kim on the dance floor, some strands of your hair coming out of your hairstyle as you moved to the music. He should’ve backed away. Hell, he’d spent years perfecting that skill, knowing when to pull back, where to avoid getting too close, perceive when there was danger. But with you? It wasn’t that easy.

It hadn’t been from the second he laid eyes on you, when he saw you enter the wedding venue with some of your friends.

He didn’t know what kind of witchcraft you had performed on him but he seemed to not be able to stop looking at you. His gaze tracked the curve of your smile and the movement of your lips as you sang along the song, the flush on your skin from the warmth of the room, and the way your dress hugged your figure just enough to make his thoughts stray somewhere they shouldn’t.

He told himself to get it together—to stop looking at you like a creepy stalker—but it was a losing battle, he seemed hypnotized.

And when you tipped your head back, laughing at something Kim said, Jay swore under his breath.

He was in trouble.

Because the truth was, it wasn’t just the way you looked—although you were one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen—it was the way you felt. Warm and soft against him when you danced, your hand fitting so easily in his. The way you leaned into his touch, like part of you wanted him closer, even when you were pretending otherwise.

It almost scared him how he found himself talking, laughing and joking so easily with a stranger he had just met.

But he wanted more of that. More of you.

And that realization hit him harder than it should’ve.

Jay exhaled slowly, willing the tension in his chest to ease. It didn’t work. Not when you turned your head as you kept dancing, scanning the room as if you were searching for something, or someone.

And when your eyes locked, his heart gave a sharp kick, one he didn’t truly expect. And the way you held his gaze? It did something to him.

Your lips curled into the faintest smile—small, almost shy—and damn if it didn’t make something twist low in his stomach. He should’ve been the one in control here, but with just one look, you had him pinned. And the worst part was that he didn’t mind.

Not even a little.

Your attention was caught again by one of your friends who pulled you towards her as you belted out the song in the background, breaking eye contact.

He tried to look away from you sometimes, focusing his attention on something else but it was as if his eyes were attracted to a magnet, you.

And maybe that was the problem.

He wasn’t supposed to feel this, wasn’t supposed to want someone he’d just met with this kind of heat and desire curling through his veins. But here he was, eyes on you, mind already running a dangerous path of wondering how you’d taste if he let himself get too close.

He was about to move—to do something, anything—but then Kim grabbed your hand again, spinning you around in a dizzy circle. Your laughter rang out, bright and carefree, while Jay just stood there against that wall.

He didn’t belong in this moment. Not really. A guy like him—weighted down by too much baggage, too many mistakes, a very dangerous job—had no business wanting you like this.

But God help him, he did.

When the song shifted to something louder and faster, you finally pulled back from Kim, breathless and glowing in a way that had no right to make his pulse pick up. Kim was already dragging Adam away, leaving you alone again, and for half a second, Jay thought this was his shot.

But then, just as quickly, you disappeared into the crowd.

And that shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. More than it had any right to.

Jay exhaled, dragging a hand through his face. He told himself to play it cool, to just let it go, but the thing was, he didn’t want to let it go. Let you go.

And if he had anything to say about it, this night wasn’t ending until he found you again.

Jay pushed himself off the wall, his pulse thudding a little harder than he wanted to admit.

He wasn’t the type to chase after someone, not like this. But that night, he couldn’t seem to help himself. His eyes scanned the room, but the crowd was thicker now, people swaying to the music, bodies pressed too close.

You weren’t on the dance floor anymore. He knew that much. And the longer it took to find you, the harder it became to shake the restless feeling gnawing at the edges of his control.

Get a grip, Halstead.

He could’ve leave you alone. Should’ve, probably. But as he moved through the party he knew nothing would sit right until he saw you again.

And then, just when he started to think he’d lost you for good, he caught a sight of you through the open door leading to the balcony.

Jay hesitated, his hand curling into a fist at his side. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing, all he knew was that the moment he saw you again, his mind quieted. And maybe that was reason enough.

Without giving himself time to second-guess, he stepped outside.

You were leaning against the railing, your back to him, the cool night air brushing against your bare shoulders. He let himself take in the sight of you for just a second longer—how the city lights reflected off your skin, how you tilted your head back like you were finally catching your breath.

You were breathtaking. So fucking beautiful it hurt.

“Wasn’t sure if I’d get another chance to steal you away.”

You turned your head at the sound of his voice, and there it was again, that little smile. “Something tells me you love a good challenge Detective.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, nodding. “I feel like the reward will be worthy.”

He moved closer to you as he took off his jacket and placed it on your shoulders, leaving his hands there for a while as he let your scent engulf him. You then turned fully to face him and Jay didn’t miss the way your eyes roamed along his body, focusing for a moment on his chest, his arms, before looking back into his eyes.

“Oh so you really like me,” you joked, eyes still on him, slightly tilting your head but he couldn’t ignore the blush on your cheeks.

“Thought I made that pretty clear by now.”

And just like that, the tension stretched tight again, thicker this time but with the difference that nothing and no one would interrupt this time.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The distant thump of music spilled through the open door, but out here? It felt like the rest of the world had faded away.

He closed the distance between you, never taking his eyes off yours. He tried to pull away, but it was as if he physically couldn’t, as if he needed it.

“And here I thought you’d even left the party.”

“You’re hurting me so much tonight, I’m not that bad at hitting on you c’mon.”

You giggled and bit your bottom lip. He found himself suppressing a groan because, damn, he had never wanted anything so badly as he wanted to bite your lip.

“Well,” you batted your lashes, “you’re definitely making it hard for me to leave now,” your eyes flicked to his lips before returning to his and he told himself to calm down but, God help him, if you did that again he’d lose every ounce of control he had left.

“I guess you found a good reason to stay then,” his tongue flicked across his bottom lip and he couldn’t miss the way your gaze landed on his lips, again. The light was dim, not very bright, but he could see so clearly how dilated your pupils were and it drove him crazy, knowing you felt the same.

“Is that so?” You murmured. He leaned closer to you and placed his hands on the railing at either side of you, trapping you in his arms but not touching you. Your breathing quickened at the closeness, your lips parted slightly as if you needed air, and that was enough to make his pulse quicken and the heat in his blood spike.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” he taunted

You let out a quiet laugh, warm and soft, and something about the sound made his fingers itch to touch you again, so much so that he tightened his fingers around the cold metal of the railing.

You took his tie—which had been dangling between you—into your hands, and Jay seriously thought he was going to collapse at your feet at any moment. You hadn’t done anything too dramatic, but he felt like he was going to have an aneurysm. Just seeing your fingers caress the fabric of your tie, how you played with it while you continued to look at him, drove him crazy.

“I’m exactly where I want to be,” you repeated under your breath the words he had said a few hours earlier. His hands were gripping the railing so tightly his knuckles were completely white from trying to vent the frustration he felt.

His fingers inched closer and closer to you, until the sides of his thumbs were brushing against your dress. God, how much he wanted to grab you, hold you and touch you, every inch of your body until the ground disappeared beneath you.

You didn’t pull away, if anything, you shifted closer, your warmth seeping into his skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked when he remained silent, staring at you while you continued to play with his tie.

“I think,” he murmured, his thumb sweeping slow circles against your pelvis’ side, “you’re gonna be a problem for me.”

The tension cracked, sharp and electric, and neither of you moved, like you were both waiting to see who’d break first.

“Maybe I want to be,” you admitted quietly.

That was all he needed.

Jay didn’t overthink it, he just moved, closing the last bit of space between you. His hand slid to your waist and made you stand upright, as he tilted his head down, giving you plenty of time to pull back.

But you didn’t.

You stayed right there, your breath warm against his skin as your fingers curled into the front of his shirt.

“You’re making this impossible,” he said, his voice rougher now, low enough that only you could hear. His fingers flexed against your waist, dragging you closer without meaning to. Or maybe he did. He wasn’t sure anymore. “I’m trying so hard to be good, but—fuck.”

“But what?” you interrupted, your tone softer, breathier than before. His eyes snapped to yours, and the challenge in your gaze nearly broke him. “What happens if you stop trying?”

His breath hitched. Jesus Christ.

Jay let out a low, bitter laugh, because you weren’t making this any easier. And the worst part? You knew it. You knew exactly what you were doing to him.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” he asked, as his fingers trailed up, just slightly, brushing the curve of your ribs. It wasn’t a question. Not really.

Your lips parted, and for a second—just a second—he thought maybe you’d call his bluff. But instead, you tilted your head, eyes fixed on his mouth like you were imagining the same damn thing he was.

“I really, really do,” you murmured. And that was it. That was the crack in the dam.

His other hand came up before he could stop himself, fingers grazing along your jaw, tilting your face toward his as his nose brushed against yours. “You have no idea how much I want you right now,” he admitted, no more games, no more teasing. Just raw, unfiltered truth. His fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “I don’t even know you but you’re driving me crazy. You have to stop me.”

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Instead, your lips curled into the faintest smile, bold, knowing, and it only fueled the fire already burning through his veins.

“The thing is, I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, leaning in just enough for your breath to brush against his lips, “I don’t want you to be good or patient.”

The words punched through his last shred of restraint like they were designed to. And for a beat, all he could do was look at you—at the flush on your skin, the way your chest rose and fell a little too fast.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” he warned, though it came out rougher than he intended, his thumb brushing the edge of your jaw, slower than necessary.

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t,” you shot back, quiet but sure—so sure—and, fuck, he was done for.

He wanted to win that little silent race, to see you snap but the truth was that he had lost from the start, he had no chance of winning.

So, when he finally kissed you, it wasn’t an attempt.

It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to memorize the way you tasted, in case it was the last time. The faintest hint of champagne lingered on your lips, but beneath it was something that made his heart slam harder against his ribs.

You kissed him back like you wanted this just as much as he did, your hands sliding up to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, deeper, making his jacket fall on the floor.

And Jay? He let himself fall into it. Into you.

Jay’s lips moved against yours, slow and thorough, but nothing about the way he touched you felt careful. His hands slid along your waist, fingers pressing into the curve of your hip, squeezing you like he was memorizing the shape of you. Every brush of his skin against yours sent sparks racing through your body, and the heat pooling low in your stomach only grew stronger with each passing second.

His palms flattened against your lower back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t a single inch of space left between your bodies, until you could feel how much he really wanted you. He was warm, solid—everywhere—and the way he held you made your breath hitch.

You tugged lightly on the back of his neck. The muscles beneath your fingers were tense, and a shudder ran through him as your nails scraped gently against his skin. His breath hitched in response, and something about knowing you could unravel him like this made the heat in your blood burn hotter.

“You’re killing me,” he muttered against your mouth, his voice rough and frayed at the edges. His lips brushed over yours again, lingering like he was savoring the taste of you. But his hands, God, his hands, were anything but patient.

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up your spine, skimming beneath the hem of your dress as he went. The warmth of his touch against your bare skin felt a sharp, delicious shiver curling through you, and when his hand settled at the small of your back again, his grip tightened, so possessive like he wanted to keep you exactly where you were.

And you wanted to stay there.

You wanted more.

Your body arched instinctively into his, and Jay swore softly under his breath, his hold on you turning rougher, like he was losing the battle to keep himself in check. His fingers flexed at your hip, sliding lower, almost touching your ass before skimming back up, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch you most.

And when your hand drifted from his neck to the front of his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric, you felt the sharp rise and fall of his chest beneath your palm. His heart was racing and the realization felt another jolt of heat spiraling through you.

“Jay,” you breathed against his mouth, in such an intense and desperate tone, as if you needed him and his distance hurt you, and his response was immediate. His lips crashed back onto yours with a hunger that stole your breath, and the slow, careful rhythm shattered beneath the weight of all that tension.

He kissed you harder now, deeper. His tongue swept along your lower lip, and when you opened up for him, he groaned softly, a low, desperate sound that made your knees go weak.

His hand slid higher, dragging up your side, fingers brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ribs. He didn’t stop there. He traced the outline of your body desperately, knuckles grazing the side of your breast before his palm flattened against your ribcage, holding you firmly against him.

“Is this okay?” He whispered against your lips.

“Yes, god, yes please Jay,” you whispered back and damn, if your breathy voice hadn’t completely destroyed him. He loved seeing you as desperate for him as he was for you.

He kissed you again. “You’re driving me insane,” he murmured against your lips, and there was no teasing left in his voice. Just raw need. “I can’t—If you want me to stop say it because I fucking can’t.”

The response to those words of his was the way you grabbed his face and crashed your lips onto his again. “I don't want you to stop.”

Whatever fragile restraint he’d been clinging to snapped completely.

Jay’s hands tightened on your waist as he backed you against the wall, pressing you there like he needed to feel every inch of you against him.

His lips left yours just long enough to trail down your jaw, his breath warm as it ghosted over your skin. He didn’t stop when he reached your neck. Instead, he tilted your head gently to the side, giving himself more access as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along the curve of your throat and making you sigh in pleasure.

And when his teeth graced that sensitive spot just below your ear, you couldn’t hold back the soft sound that escaped your lips.

Jay froze at the sound—just for a second to control himself before he’d come in his pants. He groaned low in his throat, his mouth returning to yours in a kiss that was rougher now, messier, hungrier. Like hearing you fall apart pushed him over the edge.

One arm was around your waist as he held you so tightly it was almost impossible to move, while the other hand slid down, fingers spreading wide across your thigh. His thumb brushed slow circles against the sensitive skin there, inching higher with every pass. “Tell me to stop, and I will, okay?” he repeated.

But the way he touched you, the way his mouth lingered on yours, made it painfully clear he didn’t want to stop.

And neither did you.

“If you stop now, I might actually lose my mind.”

He chuckled before kissing you again as you pulled him closer, tilting your head to deepen the kiss even further. Your hands cupped his face, his beard tickling your palms as he took your breath away completely.

He slid his hand up your thigh again, taking advantage of the slit of your dress to touch your skin, to squeeze it, to feel it, to press his fingers so deeply into it until they left their mark. He grabbed your leg and wrapped it around his waist, making his pelvis grind with yours and making you both moan into the kiss.

His lips trailed back down to your neck, licking and sucking every inch of skin he had access to. “I want you so fucking bad.” His breath was hot against your skin, and when he spoke again, his voice was nothing but a rough, desperate whisper.

“Oh my fucking god Jay,” you gasped, trying to keep your voice low as his hand slid on your ass, squeezing it until you almost moaned again. “I want you so much too… Please…”

His lips found yours again, a desperate, greedy kiss that only deepened the ache between you two. There was no hesitation, no slowing down. Every touch, every movement, felt like a need that couldn’t be contained. You could feel the heat rising between you, consuming both of you in a way that made everything else fade.

His hard dick pressed into you, and the pressure made your breath hitch, another moan escaping as you started to grind into him again. His mouth left yours only long enough to whisper your name, low, rough, like a command.

“God, I need to feel you,” he muttered against your skin, like he was about to break. His teeth grazed your ear before his lips closed around the sensitive spot just below it, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped again. It only turned him on even more, his hands moving and exploring every inch of you, as though he couldn’t get enough.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, his back, his chest, pulling him even closer, matching the urgency of his movements. You wanted to rip that shirt off of him, you wanted to feel his skin under your fingers, touch him everywhere.

His lips trailed down to the curve of your shoulder, sucking gently as the strap of your dress slid down. The sensation made you pulse race beyond imagination, and you found yourself tugging at his shirt, eager to feel more of him.

“Jay,” you breathed again, voice trembling, and you pulled his face back to yours, crashing your lips together with the kind of hunger that mirrored his own. The kiss was messy, full of heat and need, and you lost yourself in it. You bit his lower lip, sucking it and making him groan. And, fucking hell, the sound was so sexy you felt it directly in your lower regions.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck Y/n,” he muttered desperately. His fingers brushing over the lace of your underwear before slipping inside, feeling how wet you were. The contact was electric, and the sharp Moab you let out made his almost like in his pants. “Is this okay?” he murmured against your lips.

“Yes, shit… Oh… Oh god Jay you feel so good please don’t stop,” you moaned, your body moving on instinct, a desperate need for more, and the words only seemed to unravel him further.

There was no turning back now, and for once in your life, it felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

General tag list: @hngbrooks, @alexxavicry, @halstead-severide-fan, @mrspeacem1nusone, @allivs, @omniaimy, @cursedashes, @kmc1989, @firetruckstuckley, @23victoria, @buckybarnessweetheart, @fanaticlove16, @ajordan2020, @multi-fandom-lover7667, @emryb, @luftmenzch, @anamiad00msday, @caroldanverwife

Jay Halstead tag list: @nosy09, @Cbaby, @luvreading67, @danielmarie, @Saiyuo12, @annahargrove, @nachodaze, @waywardhunter95, @fighterkimburgess, @ephemeral3, @mads-weasley, @itskellysev, @Lovemedlife, @atarmychick007, @amazedbyitall, @glodessa, @xeleni-dutchnurse, @ossypooh, @itriedtoexplain, @randomwriter1021, @averyhotchner, @ellevandeberg, @junevoidzombie, @nocturnalherb16, @croissantthief, @jayhalsteadsbadge, @youngblood199456, @burgstead, @bebataylor84, @ares-kelani-wayne, @lxna-mikaelsxn, @sande5098, @smoothdogsgirl, @withakindheartx, @Jess2013, @maddu-oliveira, @lovemesomepietro, @onechicagodrawings, @Jinxfan18, @xeleni-nurse, @Firerusher, @ready-hit-it, @Rainroo2, @smutlOver, @kuroe-san, @dreamss-wavess, @halsteadloversworld, @laaaauuraaaaa, @itserickalove, @slytherlight, @notanordinaryprincess95, @goingwiththewind, @mel0809, @cadyfanninger, @acewritesfics, @wickedlovely121, @iloveest, @instantpizzacat, @novabckly, @thatcrimeshowchick, @wnbweasley, @anaferreira-4

Click here to be added to the tag list ❤️

Main masterlist

Jay Halstead masterlist

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

Side blog -> @halsteadloverslibrary

Ask link 💭

[gatorbites-imagines]

I’m SO in love with your Dick x Wally x male Thanagarian reader HCs! I’ve read through them multiple times, and they’re stuck in my head 🥰🥰💖💖💖

I wasn’t the one who requested it, but would I be able to ask for more from them, with a mix of SFW and NSFW HCs? 🙏

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Thanagarian male reader

Headcanons

I’ve been stressing about my job situation since I quit my internship, as I still need an income, and all job postings around here I can do start in April. So, like any healthy person, im ignoring these feelings by writing.

You guys dating wouldn’t change too many things, as you guys were already close and spent a lot of time together. You guys become a lot more affectionate, which is new for you but not for Dick and Wally as they had already been dating for a long time.

They plan most of the dates in the beginning, as you are still trying to figure out what would work for your human lovers. Thanagar has different traditions and habits, so humans being so lax and creative is new even after this long.

Dick and Wally are both giddy when you decide to plan a date all on your own. You end up stressing yourself way too much, wanting it to be perfect, that you get help from some of the other titans.

I think your boyfriends would be happy with anything, even just going to your hideout and sitting around eating pizza and watching a movie. But seeing all the effort you put into it makes them happy.

On your guys one year anniversary, you give them rings made out of nth metal, possibly even made from small pieces of your wings, so you are always with them in one way or another.

This makes Wally and Dick both pout as they now think their gifts arent good enough. Of course, you don’t think so, anything they’ll give you is good, but they want to do something as meaningful as you did.

Expect something personal and sweet in the coming days. It doesn’t have to be expensive or anything, but its something that means something to all of you. You just feel flustered about it, but accept the pampering.

They of course don’t go beyond your boundaries, something you return as well, since you love your boyfriends as much as you can and they love you in return.

You don’t have any family on earth, there’s Carter and Shayera, but they aren’t really your family and you guys have different values. Luckily for you, your boyfriends have active families. It takes longer for the bats to welcome you, but at this point you’ve been on earth long enough to be trusted.

When it comes to the bedroom, Wally and Dick are much more comfortable than you are in the beginning. They already know each other inside and out, literally, and the first times you feel almost like an outsider.

They obviously don’t allow you to feel left out, and the first times you guys sleep together is a lot of just learning each other, figuring out what feels good and what you are all comfortable with.

I like to think Wally asks about you wearing your wings at least once when you guys are doing it, and you counter it by saying he should keep the flash suit on then. You hadn’t expected him to do it, but he does. Dick ends up doing it too, wearing the Nightwing suit. And who wouldn’t love that.

It lets you live out a couple of fantasies you’ve always had but never allowed yourself to indulge in, since you didn’t want to disrespect your friends and their relationship.

It’s pretty lethal to not have just one boyfriend with a lot of energy, but two. And one of those boyfriends has little to no rest between rounds. I could imagine Dick jokes about how its good that you came along, so you can switch out who’s fucking Wally so the other can rest.

They both love hickeys and you leaving them on them, since the whole being marked by you gets their blood pumping. They both love leaving them just as much though, so you end up starting to wear a high-collar outfit when you go out as your crime fighting persona.

It can be hard to find time where all three of you can spend personal time together. Theres always something going on in your personal cities, so there is a lot of one on one time. But I can imagine you guys make a habit out of calling whoever isn’t there, and letting them listen through their earpiece, if possible.

It gets kinda awkward for Dick a couple of times where the other bats, mostly Babs, checks in on his comms, only to hear Wallys needy gasping and whimpering and your deeper grunts and groans, as you describe in crude detail what you are doing to your shared boyfriend.

Babs might even be a bit impressed that Dick can keep up with his usual flips and kicks, taking out criminals like usual, and not letting what hes hearing distract him.

When he finally finishes up and gets back to wherever you guys are, Dick would dive right in, even if you and Wally had already washed up and were cuddling.

Luckily Wally is always raring to go, and it’s easy to get you worked up, just watching and listening to them. At the end of the night/early morning everyone is satisfied and happy, even if Wally has to be the one doing all the cleaning and morning cooking.

[ohmotherwhereartthou-if]

Soooo, I have a small angsty ask if you’re up for it, how would RO’s react if mc flinched when they make a sudden movement while in an argument?

Ooh drama!

Cassandra: Wide eyed and freezes mid sentence, lowers her voice IMMEDIATELY and apologies. She feels awful because she knows that she gets scary when she is mad, she has learned to be after being surrounded by military men all her life. She never wants MC to think she would ever raise a hand to them in anger (...I mean unless MC cheated on her, then it is a 50/50 coin toss if she puts hands on them). Otherwise though, the fight would end right there and then. If the fight wasn't over anything major she would calm down and make sure MC is okay. If the fight was over something big then she would walk away to calm herself.

Valeria: She also jumps back with MC and quickly asks them genuinely what was wrong? She wouldn't get it herself, being raised in a loving home and having a sheltered life; but that doesn't mean she wouldn't me sympathetic. No matter how mad she might be, Valeria will always be the first to offer help to others. She would sit down and hold MC until they are okay, even if she can't really imagine why MC could ever fathomly think she would hit them.

Tomás: Just stab him in the heart why don't you? Throw him off the roof, shoot him in the head, and beat him with a metal club because all of that would honestly be kinder than ever making him realize MC could ever be afraid of him that way. Honest to God, this man would sooner CUT OFF his own hand than have you EVER think that he would do that to you. The look in his eyes in that moment? AGH, it hurts me to even imagine it! He would be so heartbroken and shocked. Whatever you guys were arguing about, (again, unless it was about cheating... if you ever cheat on Tomás (first of all, how dare you?) he wouldn't hit you but he wouldn't really feel the same about you being scared of him, as he is right now.) consider it forgotten. He will spend the next week apologizing and practically punishing himself for making you feel threatened.

-

Ludovica: Oh, she gets it. Believe me, she would get this better than anyone. Nobody else could possibly relate more than her, she would hardly ever be so mad at MC that she would yell but if MC ever thought she would do such a think for a moment would still her to a statue. Her eyes wouldn't judge though, no. Her eyes would be full of understanding of what pain and trauma results in such a reflex, she would calmly tell MC "Please believe me when I say this... I would never, ever, raise a hand to you; my love."

Aurelio: Bro stills to a halt and has to Sherlock Holmes style analyze what the actual fuck, just happened. Did you just think...? That he would ever, do that to you? He is honestly more hurt as a result of that reaction; that you would ever, for even a fraction of a second, think he is such a brute. Such a monster, to raise his hand to you. He struggles with being a good man, he really does; but to think you think so little of him in terms of morality? He might tear up just a tad, depending on how much he has opened up to MC about himself. Regardless if MC intended to do so or not, he would walk away and honestly be upset with MC for a good while about this.

Elio: Does not get it sadly, he quickly puts it together that you though he would hit you; but he doesn't get why. He will tell you just as much. "I was just gesturing, why did you flinch?" Absolutely will not drop this subject till you explain it to him, "Did you think I would hit you? Have I ever done so before? Then why did you think I would hit you now? I obviously would not. It was a reflex? A reflex is an involuntary response to a stimulus. I raised my hand and that make you flinch? That would suggest a logical stimuli, I have gestured to you before. I have pointed to things before, I have patted your head before, you never did this before. Why are you doing it now?" He is low key pressed over this, he hides it by trying to appear confused or curious but in reality he is upset because he does not understand. He NEEDS to know why you did that, so he can never do it again. If you get mad over the questions he will surprisingly get mad too, it is jarring because he almost never gets mad. He is upset by this new information and he must understand, you must help him understand.