#i drew this when i was feeling really down

[coryndoll]

plot ── tasked with interviewing actor drew starkey about his latest movie, you unintentionally steal the spotlight, leaving him blushing and lost for words under your mesmerizing gaze.

content ── reader being toooo pretty that drew is just like woah, drew being so observant ugh love him, reader not even trying to get his attention at all but ure just so alluring to him

authors note ── yea FUCK my series even tho i made that poll tbh im just so unmotivated. i saw this pic of drew n had some ideas for this lil oneshot of reader interviewing him post-premiere or something and him literally falling in love n reader noticing the little things n he becomes soheart eyes for u omg

you were a little nervous, to say the least. it was supposed to be a one-on-one interview, which somehow felt more intense than group ones with an entire cast. at least in those, the attention wasn’t entirely on you. but now? now it was just you and drew starkey, a handful of questions, and an awkwardly large camera crew standing just out of frame, watching everything. no pressure, right?

your boss had insisted that this interview focus on drew’s performance in his latest film. fair enough, but it also meant no backup—no costar to bounce off of or share the spotlight. it felt intimate in a way you weren’t entirely comfortable with, no matter how many times you’d done this. at the end of the day, it was just you sitting across from a celebrity while everyone else quietly judged your ability to hold a conversation.

you had almost turned this job down when you first started, not because of the nerves (though there were plenty) but because of the sheer vulnerability of it. still, the exposure wasn’t bad, and the paycheck? even better.

as you stepped into the room, clipboard in hand, the tension in your chest tightened just a bit. drew starkey, an actor you were only somewhat familiar with, sat casually in his chair. outer banks, hellraiser, the other zoey—you’d done your homework, skimming through his projects like your career depended on it. because, well, it kind of did. and he was . . . well, better looking in person, if that was even possible. the kind of face that made you forget you had questions to ask in the first place.

meanwhile, drew had been at this for hours. interviews were basically part of the job, but after a while, they all blended together. same questions, same conversations, just with different faces. he was tired but not miserable, holding onto the thought of dinner plans with some friends later that night.

interviews weren’t bad—he liked the connection when it happened, like the guy he was first interviewed by had laughed when he cracked a joke—but there was only so much charm drew could muster after a full day of talking about himself and the same film.

when you walked into the room, he barely glanced up at first. another assistant, probably, or someone from the crew running around to keep things moving. he didn’t pay much attention until you stopped right in front of him, introducing yourself and the network you worked for, arm extended for a handshake.

his gaze flicked to yours, and for a moment, he forgot how to move, but he pulled himself together quickly, or at least he hoped it looked that way. he shook your hand, smiling the kind of easy, practiced smile he’d perfected over the years, but there was something a little shaky in his voice when he said, “nice to meet you.”

he sat back down, reminding himself to focus. you were a professional. he was a professional. this was just another interview. but it was hard to ignore the way his heart picked up every time you looked at him like that—focused, curious, maybe even a little nervous yourself. he wasn’t sure what it was about you, but for the first time that day, he couldn’t wait for the next question.

his hand went to his earlobe almost instinctively, a nervous habit he hadn’t really noticed until now. yeah, you were . . . stunning, in the kind of way that made him feel like he should stand up straighter or check his hair. if someone had told him you were a celebrity, he wouldn’t have questioned it. but the fact that you were here to interview him? that just felt unfair.

but the interview was smooth, the kind he’d done a hundred times before. the questions were predictable again, circling around the same themes: his character, the challenges of filming, the energy on set. drew answered easily, slipping into that familiar rhythm, but every so often, his focus wavered—not on the questions, but on you.

you glanced down at your list, scanning it for the next prompt, and then back up at him with those eyes. god, those eyes. drew swore they could make anyone feel like they were the only person in the room, even though he knew there were at least ten crew members just beyond the cameras.

he noticed it, though—how bored you seemed, even if you were too professional to let it show. your smile was polite, your tone unwavering, but every now and then, you hesitated just slightly before asking him a question, like you were already tired of the script you’d been given.

and then there was him, barely able to hold eye contact. it was almost embarrassing when he caught himself smiling at you, just a small, almost shy curve of his lips, but it was enough for you to pause, tilting your head slightly as if you were studying him.

"are you okay?" you asked softly, your own lips quirking into a smile that practically knocked the wind out of him.

it was such a simple exchange, but drew could feel the heat creeping up his neck. “yeah. yeah, i’m . . . awesome,” he managed, clearing his throat and looking away for half a second before his eyes found their way back to yours. he had to play it off, had to stay professional, but the way you smiled back at him, like his answer had made your day a little brighter? it felt like a win. still, he reminded himself: there was only so much time left. you were on a clock, and he couldn’t afford to waste it, even if you made it almost too easy to get distracted.

you just laughed, accepting his answer, but the moment lingered. your smile lingered. and the questions rolled on, one after another. nothing groundbreaking, but you kept it light, adding just enough to make it feel like a conversation. drew appreciated that. but eventually, after a particularly shared laugh—he couldn’t even remember what the joke had been—he leaned in slightly, his voice carrying a hint of playful curiosity.

“okay, so what did you think about the movie?” he asked, a smile tugging at his lips. it caught you off guard; he could tell by the way your posture shifted, your pen stilling over your notes.

and then you started talking.

at first, it was simple—a few observations, some praise for the direction, the performances. but the more you went on, the more animated you became, your voice lifting slightly, your words flowing effortlessly. you dove deep, unraveling moments and emotions from the film like you’d been holding them in since the premiere. drew leaned back, one hand resting against his chin as he watched you, utterly mesmerized.

you talked about the subtlety of his character, how his guarded exterior felt like a shield hiding something raw and vulnerable. you mentioned the tension between the characters—the way their connection felt like a push-and-pull dance neither could fully commit to but couldn’t walk away from either. you dissected the music, the cinematography, how it all wove together like a symphony of yearning and restraint.

and the way you talked about his performance . . .

you didn’t gush, which he appreciated, but your words were thoughtful, specific. you spoke about his quiet expressions, the way he held so much in his body language—the hesitation in his glances, the way his character seemed to pull back just when you thought he’d lean in. it was like you’d been watching with a magnifying glass, picking apart moments even he hadn’t considered.

he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. not just because you liked the movie, though that didn’t hurt, but because it was you. you, sitting across from him, completely unaware of how captivating you looked while tearing apart his work in the best possible way. if someone had asked him to focus on anything other than the way you gestured, your fingers brushing lightly against the edge of your clipboard, or the way your lips curved when you spoke, he would’ve failed miserably.

drew just sat there, watching you, and he couldn’t help but smile. you weren’t just pretty—you were sharp, insightful, and clearly so much more than the routine questions your clipboard suggested.

“you’re good at this,” he said when you finally paused for a breath, and he meant it. but he couldn’t help the slight teasing edge in his tone, the way his smile softened just a little as his eyes met yours again.

[italiangirlcoresblog]

main masterlist \\ f1 masterlist

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𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 (𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐨𝐧)

✩ : the aftermath of the las vegas grand prix with max

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭. : max verstappen

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : fluff, fluff, and more fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 775

✍︎ : SO SO SO EXCITED FOR MAX, I HAD TO POST SOMETHING (i don't know if i like it tho, let me know what you think!)

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You couldn't remember the exact moment when the tears prickling your eyes had started streaming down your face, but right then it didn't matter. Nothing really did.

The only thing you could focus on was the roaring of the engines right across the pit lane, matching the loud thumping of your heart.

One more lap.

Just one lap, and Max would've been crowned World Champion for the fourth time in a row.

You brought your hands up to your mouth, squeezing them together in a silent prayer as your eyes remained glued to the little screen in the Red Bull box. The crowd cheered as George Russell was declared winner of the Grand Prix, their screams seeming miles away from you as you still held your breath. The race wasn't over yet.

The next few minutes were a confused swirl of people shouting, hugs, and congratulating pats on the back—a river of blue suits that dragged you outside into the crisp night breeze. You ran alongside the rest of the crew, vision blurred with tears, until you reached the barrier and let out something between a sob and a laugh.

There he was.

Standing tall on top of the car with both arms thrown in the air, taking in the thousands of people yelling his name and chanting him with a deafening applause, Max had never looked so genuinely happy and excited about his own achievement.

Suddenly, his gaze caught yours through the visor of his helmet, and you could swear you'd seen his eyes light up. In less than one second, he jumped off the vehicle and ran up to where you were standing, his large hands immediately finding your waist as you secured yours around his neck, letting him effortlessly lift you off the ground and spin you in the air while just screaming with pure, raw joy.

Once he was done, he didn't let you go, wrapping your legs around his torso and placing his hands on the back of your thighs to keep you up. His chest rose with every heavy pant he let out. You closed your eyes, tears still spilling from them, before resting your forehead against the cold glass of the visor and taking a deep breath of relief: finally.

Pulling away, you gently helped him take the helmet off, one of his hands quickly leaving your side to rip the balaclava off his head. All you could see was a glimpse of his icy blue eyes before his fingers firmly cupped your jaw and drew you into him, your lips crashing together. The suddenness of the kiss made you drop the helmet to the ground.

You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him impossibly closer, your lips chasing each other in their own perfect race, breaths intertwined in a flawless melody.

Even with your eyes closed, you could feel the blinding flashes of the paparazzi's cameras surrounding you. You could hear the amused whistles coming from both fans and the other drivers, but you couldn’t care less. This moment was yours and yours only, and it felt so right: just you and Max, melting in each other's arms.

When you moved back, breathless from the intense kiss, you brought your still trembling hands up to his face and traced every inch of it with your fingertips, your touch feathery, almost as if to draw a map on his glistening skin: thick, pensive eyebrows, always so focused eyes, and full lips.

"You did it, Max," you managed to whisper, voice hoarse from staying silent for too long. "Four-times World Champion."

"Actually, this is the first World Championship I've really won." You could hear the laugh in his voice, his smug expression making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Because it's the first one my world came to see," he explained softly, his fingers running up to your forehead to brush a lock of hair out of your face before grazing your silky skin, his gaze lovingly locked onto yours.

You felt your eyes well up with hot tears once again, but as soon as one of them started rolling down your cheek, he was quick to catch it with his thumb and tenderly wipe it away.

"Nice reflexes, Verstappen," you muttered against his lips, a faint smirk plastered on your face.

"Not bad for a four-time World Champion, huh?" He grinned back before closing the gap between the two of you, drunk on the feeling of your mouths dancing together.

The world around him was long forgotten. For now, the only world he seemed to care about was the one wrapped tight into his arms.

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©italiangirlcoresblog // do not copy, rewrite, or translate any of my work on any platforms

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo drew in a breath as they spoke of what it had been like after Sloane's betrayal. He missed working with Samantha in the field but he was so relieved she had an office position that kept her safe instead. He thought about Violet and her potential disorders. He had noticed she stayed away from the big window in the past, but he also understood why. "They manifest and you work them out as you go. I didn't really understand my OCD for a long time and then the paranoia made it much harder to reach out for an explanation." His counterpart had done a number on her thought and he had to think for a moment on what to say. "I suspect that a fear of heights is only natural after what you have been through. But you see now how these things come about?"

He nodded about there being enough agents to merit a HR department, though even he didn't know exact numbers. However he should have expected her to fire off with relentless questions. Theo did feel overwhelmed for a moment and he wondered if he should shut the conversation down or risk destabilising how far he had come in the last few days. There was plenty there he wouldn't answer and he regretted opening up the option for her to ask. "They send another agent still, I have recruited a couple of people myself. I sit with them and talk about the work and ask them to join, giving them instructions on what to expect." Whether or not that was the right way he wasn't sure but he felt it was the best he could offer.

He purposefully skipped over how he was assigned missions and coded messages, she had a letter from Delta Green and that was enough. He didn't want her digging through his mail looking for triangles to see if or where he was going next. "I no longer have a team," he said plainly, "My team was Samantha and Sloane and he went and put an end to that. Since then I am either sent to other groups of agents on missions to discipline or lecture them or partnered up with agents when I am needed. They're strangers." Most of them anyway. Despite his trust issues he still had favourites. He dodged over the questions on monsters and she gave him the perfect excuse to do so with her final question. She should not have known about the Apocalypse Club and he raised a very fatherly eyebrow at her.

"It's a cultist ring, I am the lead agent in bringing it down one by one. Middle-Sized Tony is one of their leaders." He did not specify it was in the city, nor that it was a physical place, not wanting Violet to go looking. "They're very dangerous people. A lot more put together and in control than Sloane. They mainly work in crime and amass ridiculous funds through it." Of course he had his own instructions on handling them from the Horned One but he had to bring cultists in enough that he was still able to stay the lead, in a way he felt it balanced out. "I wouldn't normally leave my files out like that, I am sorry I did and you saw. It won't happen again." There was still elements of fear in his tone despite himself, as if he was preparing to be punished in the back of his mind and trying to mitigate against it.

However, he saw her embarrassment about the letter incident and shook his head. "I should have been more respectful in how I handled that too. I never meant to upset you but I panicked," Theo explained honestly and watched her carefully in case he upset her further. "I'm sorry I shredded your letter," this apology much more genuine than the last. "I should have explained this to you sooner. But it's easier now that you know why I didn't want you to read it. I was so scared."

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"It must have been difficult," she mused a little bit sadly, "when Samantha stopped working as an agent. If she was the only one you trusted..." Her dad must have felt really alone, especially after Sloane's betrayal. "I understand that you're distrustful, after what Sloane did." But then again, it seemed that was a disorder, gained from his time as an agent. "How will I know if... if I have a disorder? I've seen so many things already. And... I still can't get anywhere close to the window." Violet didn't usually talk about that. She supposed it was obvious, and yet she pretended it wasn't an issue.

Violet was very curious about Samantha's job, now. Luckily for her, Samantha was around. Maybe she could ask her about it? "There are a lot of agents, then?" Enough for Delta Green to need an HR representative.

Her dad had just allowed her to ask him whatever she wanted to know, and yet Violet fell silent for a few seconds. The questions were jostling each other in her mind, leaving her speechless. She felt like it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and didn't want to waste it on stupid questions! "How do they recruit agents now, then? And how do they tell you your missions? Do they send coded messages? Do you know the other agents on your team?" Surely her dad wouldn't be surprised to hear her firing questions at an impressive rate. Fastest draw in New York! "What's the scariest monster you've ever seen? How many monsters have you killed?" And finally, a question she asked with a blush on her cheeks: "What's the Apocalypse Club? I just- your file was opened on the table, and I saw the name."

After that, she had to take a moment to catch her breath.

"I understand now, why you were worried. Why you shred the letter. You were just protecting me. They shouldn't have sent that letter in the first place, not after what they did to you." Violet looked down, embarrassed by the huge tantrum she had thrown about that letter.

[angelhisu]

Lets Play [Sevika x Fem!Reader](NSFW)

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── notes: this is my first post and attempt at an x reader and a smut, so i hope you enjoy!! follows and interactions appreciated, mdni! my requests are open! wc: 7k+ cw: humiliation, sevika puts a cigarette out on the readers thigh, but thats it really. ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Sevika sat perfectly still, her hand resting on your leg and her arm wrapped securely around your waist as she studied her cards with laser focus. Her poker face remained flawless despite the way you were perched on her lap so pretty. After a moment of deliberation, she laid her cards down with confidence, eliciting groans of frustration from the men across the table.

A cigarillo dangled from her lips, one that was in your mouth just moments ago, spinning lazily as she worked it with her tongue. When her opponents slammed their cards onto the table in defeat, acknowledging her victory, a triumphant grin spread across her face.

As Sevika gathered her winnings, she grinned around the cigarillo clamped between her teeth, unfazed by the grumbling men at the table. One of which shot her a sour look, muttering something too low to catch. His composure shattered when Sevika slapped her good hand firmly on the table, the sound sharp enough to silence the room.

"What was that?" she demanded, her tone slicing through the tense air.

The man paled, his confidence crumbling under her glare. "Nothin'," he muttered, eyes darting away as though looking anywhere else would save him.

Sevika's gaze hardened, her teeth clenched as she leaned forward. "I said… what were you saying?" Her voice carried an edge that made the man flinch further.

He shrank back into his chair, swallowing hard before mumbling, "You just got lucky, that's all." The words sounded weak, even to him.

A sly smile tugged at Sevika's lips as she leaned back, drawing you closer to her. Taking the cigarillo between her fingers, she exhaled a plume of smoke before speaking. "Luck? Nah, you're just a sore loser." The man opened his mouth to retort, but his friend quickly cut in. "She's right, man. Let it go. You lost." His words, though whispered, carried a finality that made further protests seem pointless. The man grumbled under his breath but fell silent, his frustration evident yet subdued.

With a laugh, Sevika tightened her arm around you and drew you in. As you sat on her lap, the men at the table looked at you, sweeping their gazes over your body. Taking note, Sevika narrowed her eyes and gave them a threatening look.

"Stop looking at her.." Her voice was deep and rumbling as she hissed. The men at the table realized their error and hurriedly averted their gaze. Sevika's fingers tightened their hold on your thigh, which made you let out a little squeak but you only smiled. The display always made you feel better, especially looking at all the other pretty girls in this place. As Sevika glanced down at you, her sharp gaze softened momentarily, only to harden again as she turned her attention back to the table. She exhaled a lazy stream of smoke from her cigarillo, the faint scent of tobacco curling in the air. Her thumb traced slow, deliberate circles over your hipbone, her hand sliding from your thigh to settle possessively on your waist.

The men at the table shifted awkwardly in their seats, eyes flickering everywhere but toward the intimate way Sevika touched you. Their flushed faces betrayed their discomfort, though none dared to comment.

Catching their reaction, Sevika’s lips curved into a sly grin. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear as she murmured, “They just can’t stop staring, can they?” Her voice was a low, gravelly purr. “Lucky for them, I’m feeling generous tonight. Otherwise, I’d be breaking their noses.” She took another slow drag, blowing a stream of smoke toward the table, deliberately casual in her threat. Her smirk deepened as she wrapped her arm around you more tightly, a protective gesture that left no room for misinterpretation. After another pull from her cigarillo, she leaned down, her voice dropping lower so only you could hear. “They’re jealous. Not just of you, but of the fact they’ll never have anyone half as pretty in their lap.”

You tilted your head with a playful smile. “I think they’re more jealous of your winning streak,” you quipped, glancing at her cards. “I mean, you haven’t lost a single hand tonight. What’s your secret?” Sevika chuckled, her grip tightening as she pulled you closer, her amused gaze meeting yours. “Skill, baby,” she replied, her voice dripping with confidence. The men at the table exchanged sour glances, their grumbling unmistakable as they tried and failed to mask their irritation. Sevika noticed, of course, her smirk widening as her hand gripped your hip firmly, her fingers likely leaving faint imprints.

“What’s wrong, boys?” she mocked, her tone dripping with derision as she took another drag of her cigarillo. “Don’t like it when someone else has what you want?” Her grin was a wicked slash of teeth, daring anyone to challenge her. "Sev.." You giggle, leaning into her touch slightly. Her fingers may be gripping you tightly but it didn't really hurt, if anything it just left an ache waiting to be cured. It was entertaining watching her taunt these guys, but sometimes you couldn’t help but feel a little bad for them.

Sevika chuckled softly at your little act, her smirk softening into a rare smile as she pulled you even closer. Her fingers flexed against your hip, giving it another firm squeeze. “Yeah, baby?” she murmured, tilting her head to look down at you. The men at the table muttered under their breath, shooting envious glances at Sevika’s possessive hand resting on you.

"How much longer are we going to stay here?" you whined, tilting your head and fluttering your lashes for effect. It wasn’t like you needed to, though—Sevika only ever gave one of two answers: either she’d get annoyed and remind you that she called the shots, or you’d manage to sway her in your favour. Her hand slid from your hip to your chin, gently but firmly tilting your face up to meet her gaze. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and a cocky grin tugged at her lips. She took a slow drag from her cigarillo, exhaling the smoke deliberately, making the men at the table shift in discomfort.

“We’ll leave when I say we’re leaving,” she said, her tone calm but commanding. Her grip on your chin held you in place, her thumb brushing lightly over your jawline. The men grumbled among themselves again, their annoyance palpable as they cast sidelong glances at you both.

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide your irritation as you leaned back slightly. “And how long will that be?” you asked, feigning nonchalance but knowing exactly how far to push her. Sevika’s smile faltered for a split second, replaced by a dark glint in her eyes. Her grip on your chin tightened, not painfully but with enough firmness to demand your attention. “Don’t start with me, sweetheart,” she warned in a gravelly voice, her tone dripping with authority. The table fell silent, the tension thick in the air as Sevika held your gaze, daring you to challenge her again.

The men at the table smirked and chuckled, their eyes darting between you and Sevika, clearly entertained by the dynamic playing out before them. One leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and a smug grin on his face. “Looks like the little lady’s getting tired of you,” he quipped, his tone dripping with mockery. Sevika’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she turned her gaze toward him. “Watch yourself,” she growled, her voice low and laced with warning. The sharp edge in her tone made it clear this wasn’t an idle threat.

You couldn’t resist adding fuel to the fire. “Maybe he’s got a point, Sev,” you teased, your voice light and playful as you deliberately poked at her temper. Part of you wanted to see just how far you could push her, a dangerous game fueled equally by boredom and the thrill of what might come next. Sevika’s jaw clenched tighter, her irritation simmering just below the surface. She took a measured breath, trying to rein in her temper, but your deliberate defiance was testing her patience.

The men at the table snickered, clearly enjoying the show. Their laughter was a low hum in the background, adding to Sevika’s mounting frustration. “Careful, sweetheart,” she warned, her voice dropping to a gravelly growl. “You’re treading on thin ice.”

You only smirked, savouring the way her control was starting to crack. Tilting your head, you batted your lashes, the picture of sweet, false innocence. “But I’m not doing anything wrong, Sevvie,” you cooed, your tone sugary and insincere, knowing full well you were stoking the fire on purpose. The men’s laughter grew louder as Sevika’s eye twitched, the muscle in her jaw ticking with restrained anger. Her fingers flexed, her frustration palpable, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way she struggled to keep her composure. For now.

Sevika’s jaw tightened as she gritted her teeth, her patience hanging by a thread. Your continued teasing, especially in front of an audience, was pushing her dangerously close to the edge. Her grip on your chin grew firmer, her darkened gaze locking onto yours.“You’re playing a very dangerous game, baby,” she growled, her voice low and laced with warning. The sharp edge in her tone made it clear she wasn’t bluffing. The men at the table chuckled, enjoying the spectacle, though neither of you seemed to care about their presence anymore.

You giggled softly, loving the way Sevika’s frustration simmered just beneath the surface. Tilting your head, you looked at her with wide, feigned innocent eyes, knowing exactly how much she hated this little act. “Oh, am I?” you replied, your voice dripping with mock innocence. “I’m just sitting here, being a good girl, Sevvie.” The nickname rolled off your tongue without thinking, it came rather naturally really, but god did it affect the woman. Her eyes darkened further, the muscle in her jaw twitching as her restraint wore thinner with every word. You bit your lip to stifle the grin threatening to break out, knowing it was only a matter of time before she snapped. And then it happened.

Sevika stood abruptly, releasing your chin as she slammed her fist onto the table. The loud thud reverberated through the room, making the men at the table jump in their seats. Her growl was low and dangerous as she spat, “That’s it.” The men froze, staring at Sevika in a mix of shock and fear as her icy glare swept over them.

“Get out,” she barked, her voice menacing and final. “All of you.”

They didn’t need to be told twice. Chairs scraped against the floor as they scrambled to leave, avoiding her glare as though it might physically burn them. Within moments, the table was empty except for the two of you. Sevika’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she turned back to you, her glare softening into something more playful, though no less intense. Her eyes roved over you, taking in the mischievous smirk on your lips and the gleam of mischief in your eyes. Slowly, her lips curled into a predatory smirk as she stepped forward.

Her strong hands found your hips, pulling you up from the chair with ease. The air between you crackled with tension as she leaned in close, her voice low and dripping with mockery. You played your cards well, but Sevika would always win.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” she murmured, her grip on your hips tightening possessively. “Did you have fun with your little show, darling? Pushing me like that in front of them?” The teasing edge in her voice sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back down, knowing Sevika loved it when you played with fire.

The dimly lit room was heavy with the scent of tobacco and leather, the tension between you and Sevika almost tangible. She lounged back in her chair, a cigarillo dangling lazily from her lips, the faint red glow reflecting in her sharp, dark eyes. “You think I didn’t notice?” she asked, her voice low and gravelly, the dangerous kind of calm that made your heart race.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold her gaze, but the weight of her authority pressed down on you like a vice. Her smirk grew as she watched you shift in place, knowing she had you exactly where she wanted. “Come here,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

You shuffled closer to the edge of the table, your breath hitching as she reached out, her calloused fingers trailing over your wrist before pulling you firmly into her. Her other hand plucked the cigarillo from her lips, the ember glowing brighter as she took one last drag, exhaling smoke in a slow, deliberate plume. “You’ve been testing me tonight,” she said, her voice dangerously soft, her eyes boring into yours. “You want to play games? Fine by me. Let’s play.”

Before you could react, Sevika gripped your chin, tilting your head up to meet her gaze. Her smirk widened as she leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “But you’re going to feel what happens when you lose.” She reached down, her hand sliding up your thigh with an agonizing slowness that left you breathless. Her fingers gripped the soft flesh of your inner thigh, her strength both commanding and intoxicating.

Then, without warning, she pressed the still-burning end of her cigarillo against your skin. A sharp hiss escaped your lips as the heat seared into you, pain blooming and then fading into a throbbing sting. You gasped, your nails digging into Sevika’s broad shoulders as your body jolted in her grip.

“Shh,” she cooed mockingly, her voice rich with satisfaction as she watched your reaction. “You can take it. You wanted my attention, didn’t you?” Her hand remained firm on your thigh, grounding you as her thumb brushed over the freshly marked spot. The pain mingled with something deeper- an electrifying intensity that left you trembling under her gaze. “There,” she murmured, tossing the extinguished cigarillo aside as she leaned back to admire her work. “Now you’ll remember who you’re playing with and whose bed you keep crawling into.”

Her hand slid up to your jaw, gripping it just firmly enough to make your breath hitch again. “Next time you want to act out, think twice. Or don’t,” she added with a wicked smirk, leaning in to brush her lips over yours. “I’d love an excuse to remind you all again.” With a final, teasing sneer, Sevika let go of your jaw and took a step back, watching you sit there, flushed and agitated on the table. She giggled in a low, delighted tone that sent shivers down your spine.

"C'mon, sweetheart." She spoke with a tone of authority. "Let's go home."

You felt a wave of humiliation at Sevika's demand, unwilling to admit that she had won this game. You crossed your arms across your chest, frowned at her, and pouted slightly. "I'm not done here." You huffed, your voice tinged with petulance.

Sevika's eyes furrowed as she gazed down at you, and her grin faded as she took in your stubborn demeanour. She approached you, her hand still resting possessively on your thigh just above where she had burned and caused an uncomfortable aching pain there. "Oh, yeah, you are. We are leaving, princess." She spoke strongly, leaving no space for debate. "You were complaining earlier about wanting to go home, so you interrupted my game and cut my winnings short. And now you want to stay?”

Sevika tightened her grasp on your leg and gave you a stern, disapproving gaze. Her tone made it obvious that there was no room for disagreement. "You're coming with me," she announced strongly. "And you will behave yourself while we're leaving, understood?"

You narrowed your eyes at her assertive tone, and your stubborn, brattiness took over for a moment, making you want to test her patience even further. “What if I refuse?” You challenged, tilting your chin up defiantly.

Sevika's eyes darkened with your repeated disobedience, and her grasp on your thigh became bruising. She leaned in, her voice low and threatening. "Then I'll have to make you" She grasped your hips and hauled you off the table in one forceful motion, putting you on your feet. Her grasp on you remained tight, she had no intention of letting you go.

"I thought the burn would be enough to shock your ass into shape." Sevika cooed down at her, "But you obviously need more. You needed more pain; you could have just asked, but instead, you pissed me off." Sevika didn’t loosen her grip for a second as she practically dragged you out of the bar. Her hand stayed firm on your arm, her fingers digging into your skin just enough to remind you of her strength without crossing the line into true pain - yet.

The cool night air hit your skin as the door swung shut behind you, but it did nothing to quell the heat rising between you and Sevika. “Keep up,” she growled, her tone dripping with frustration. “I’m not in the mood to deal with your attitude tonight.”

You yanked against her grip, planting your feet for just a moment to try and slow her down. “Maybe if you weren’t so bossy, I wouldn’t have one,” you snapped back, your voice laced with defiance.

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, turning to face you with a glare so sharp it made your stomach flip. Her free hand shot out, gripping your jaw firmly and tilting your face up to meet her gaze. “You want to keep running that mouth?” she asked, her voice low and dangerous. “Because I can promise you, sweetheart, the more you push me, the worse this walk is going to get for you.”

You huffed, trying to pull away, but her grip on your arm tightened, her fingers pressing into your flesh with a bruising intensity. “Let go of me,” you spat, glaring back at her with all the defiance you could muster.

Sevika’s lips curled into a dark smirk, though her eyes remained cold and unamused. “Cute,” she muttered, “but you’re not going anywhere.” Without another word, she turned and hoisted you up like you weighed nothing, throwing you over her shoulder in one swift motion.

“Sevika!” you shrieked, kicking your legs in protest as her arm locked firmly around your thighs to keep you in place. “Keep screaming,” she said flatly, her tone almost bored as she resumed walking. “It’s not like anyone’s going to help you. They all know better.”

Your fists pounded against her back, but she didn’t so much as flinch. Her boots thudded against the cobblestones with an unrelenting rhythm, her grip unyielding as she carried you toward her apartment. “I can walk!” you snapped, trying to wriggle out of her hold. Sevika snorted, her laugh dark and humourless. “Not with the way you’re acting, you can’t. You won't.”

She adjusted her hold on you slightly, her fingers brushing against the tender spot on your inner thigh where the burn still tingled. You gasped at the contact, and she chuckled lowly, clearly pleased by your reaction. “Hurts, doesn’t it?” she said, her voice mocking. “Maybe you’ll finally get it through that thick skull of yours who’s in charge.”

By the time you reached her apartment, your protests had grown quieter, though the fire in your gaze hadn’t dimmed. Sevika set you down on your feet, her hands gripping your shoulders firmly as she stared down at you, her expression hard. “Inside,” she ordered, nodding toward the door.You hesitated for a split second, debating whether to push her just a little further. But the bruising grip of her hands and the icy steel in her gaze warned you that you’d already walked a fine line tonight.

“Now,” she snapped, her voice cracking through the silence like a whip. With a begrudging sigh, you stepped inside, your stubbornness giving way to the quiet thrill of knowing exactly how much you’d tested her—and the promise of what might come next.

As soon as you stepped through the door, Sevika was behind you, kicking it shut with a loud thud. Her hand gripped your wrist tightly, spinning you around to face her. The intensity in her eyes pinned you in place, leaving you breathless and suddenly very aware of just how small you felt in her presence. “You’ve got some nerve,” she growled, her voice low and gravelly, vibrating through you. She backed you against the wall, her body towering over yours, her broad frame blocking any escape.

Your bratty defiance faltered as you pressed yourself against the cold surface, your heart pounding in your chest. Sevika’s hand came up, grabbing your jaw firmly and forcing you to look up at her. “Where’s all that fire now, huh?” she taunted, her smirk dark and teasing. “You had so much to say out there.” You tried to glare, but the heat in her gaze melted away your resistance. Your lips parted to respond, but the words died in your throat as her hand slid down from your jaw to your throat, her grip just firm enough to make your knees weak.

“Thought so,” she murmured, leaning in close, her breath hot against your ear. “You’re not as tough as you pretend to be, are you? This is what you wanted all along, sweet hopeless thing…” Your head tilted back slightly, your body betraying you as you leaned into her touch. Her free hand grabbed your waist, pulling you flush against her, the strength in her hold making it clear she was fully in control.

“Say it,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument. Her thumb brushed over your pulse, and you shivered under her touch.

“Say what?” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your defiance crumbling under her dominance. “Say you’ll behave,” she demanded, her lips brushing against your ear. “Say you’re done being a little brat.” Your breath hitched, and for a moment, you hesitated, still clinging to the last remnants of your stubbornness. But Sevika’s grip on your throat tightened slightly—not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you who was in charge.

“I’ll behave,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling with submission.

“Good girl,” Sevika murmured, her tone softening ever so slightly as her lips ghosted over the corner of your mouth. “See how easy that was?” Her hand left your throat, sliding down to rest on your waist. You let out a shaky breath, your body relaxing under her touch as the tension between you shifted. Her smirk returned, this time more teasing than dangerous. “Now, let’s see if you can keep that promise,” she said, her voice dripping with challenge as her hands gripped your hips possessively.

Sevika’s hands on your hips tightened her strength both grounding and utterly overwhelming. She pulled you closer, her smirk growing as she felt the slight tremble in your legs. Her dominance was suffocating in the most intoxicating way, and she knew it.

“Look at you,” she murmured, her tone low and laced with condescension. “All that attitude, and now you’re shaking like a leaf. Where’d all that fight go, huh?” Her hands trailed down to your thighs, effortlessly lifting you off the ground and pressing you firmly against the wall. Your arms instinctively wrapped around her neck, and her smirk turned into a wicked grin. “That’s more like it,” she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she leaned in, her lips ghosting over your neck. “See how much easier this is when you just do as you’re told?”

You shivered as her teeth grazed your skin, her breath hot against your throat. Your nails dug into her shoulders as her grip on your thighs became almost bruising, holding you in place as if daring you to try and wriggle free.

“Sevika,” you breathed, her name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Her head tilted, her dark eyes locking onto yours with a look that made your stomach flip. “That’s what I thought,” she murmured, her tone smug and possessive. She leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was all teeth and dominance, claiming you in a way that left no room for doubt. Your defiance was gone, melted away under the sheer intensity of her control, leaving you pliant in her arms.

Her lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, then down to the curve of your neck, her teeth grazing your skin just enough to make you gasp. “You’re a little bitch sometimes,” she growled against your throat, her voice rough and filled with dark promise. “But that's okay, I like you that way.”

You whimpered softly in response, your fingers tangling in her hair as she pressed her body against yours, her strength overwhelming and utterly addictive. “Good,” she whispered, her tone dripping with satisfaction. “Now, let’s see how well you can follow orders when it really counts.” She put her down, gripping a handful of hair and yanking her towards the floor.

“You remember where the bedroom is, right sweetheart?” Sevika smirked down at her, using the grip on her hair to pull your ear close to her lips giving it a small bite. “Now crawl.”

You froze for a moment, your brain trying to catch up to speed did she just ask you to crawl? You didn’t have much time to question it before you were forced down only catching yourself upon instinct. “Sevika-”

Before you could finish saying her name, Sevika’s grip on your hair tightened, tugging your head back just enough to make your spine arch. Her smirk deepened, her sharp gaze cutting through the defiance lingering in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself,” she growled, her voice low and commanding. Her free hand slid down to the back of your neck, pressing just enough to keep you in place on your hands and knees. “You wanted to push my buttons all night, baby. Now you’ll see what happens when you do.”

Your breath hitched as the heat of her dominance washed over you. The humiliation of being on all fours was almost too much, but Sevika’s control was intoxicating, leaving you both humiliated and aroused.

“Move,” she ordered, her grip on your hair loosening just slightly as she gave you a nudge forward with her boot. With a shaky breath, you began crawling, your cheeks burning as you felt her intense gaze on you. Her boots thudded softly against the floor as she followed behind you, her steps deliberate and slow, reminding you of each one who was in charge.

“That’s it,” she murmured, her voice laced with mock approval. “Good girl. I knew you’d learn eventually.”

Your fingers dug into the floor as you crawled toward the bedroom, every nerve in your body alight under Sevika’s watchful eyes. You could feel her presence like a storm brewing behind you, the tension building with every step. When you reached the doorway, you paused, glancing over your shoulder at her. The smirk on her face was darker now, her eyes glinting with satisfaction.

“Did I say stop?” she asked, tilting her head as she crossed her arms, her broad shoulders looking even more imposing under the dim light. You swallowed hard and shook your head, quickly resuming your crawl into the bedroom. Once inside, Sevika followed, her boots clicking ominously against the wooden floor.

“On the bed,” she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.

You hesitated for only a second before climbing onto the bed, your movements slow and tentative. The air felt heavy with anticipation as you knelt on the mattress, waiting for her next move. Sevika approached, her towering form casting a shadow over you. She reached out, her calloused hand brushing over your cheek before tilting your chin up to meet her eyes. “That’s better,” she murmured, her voice softening slightly but still laced with authority. “Maybe you’re finally ready to start behaving.”

Her smirk returned as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was possessive and all-consuming. Her grip on your chin tightened as she pulled away, her dark eyes scanning your face with a mix of amusement and satisfaction. “You’re mine tonight,” she whispered, her tone promising that the night was far from over. “I’m going to break you and build you back up, over… and over…” she purred. Sevika stared at you silently for a moment before taking a step back.

“First rule, don't talk. I’ve had enough of your mouth this evening, if I hear even one word that I don’t ask for leave your pretty lips I will stuff them with your ripped dirty panties. Understood?” Sevika's words were such a deep contrast from the gentle hand that was now caressing your cheek.

You leaned into the touch, enjoying the gentleness amongst all of this very much-deserved roughness. However the touch didn’t last long, the older woman's touch was taken away as soon as you began to enjoy the feeling.

“Second rule, you’ve been so very greedy tonight sweetheart, so now you will take what I give you and only what I give you. No whining, no squirming, nothing.” The woman kicked off her boots, a condescending smile on her face the entire time. “Now, strip down to your underwear.”

The pair began to undress, you two kept eye contact the entire time the tension so thick it was suffocating. Sevika was stripped down completely and you remained in your cute set, matching as you always do, she looked over at you pleased with your instruction following.

Sevika’s gaze raked over you, dark and heavy, taking in every detail of your trembling form. The satisfied smirk on her face sent a fresh wave of heat through you, leaving you feeling both exposed and exhilarated. She stalked closer, her every step measured and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. “Good, good girl” she murmured, her voice rough with approval as her eyes lingered on your matching set. “At least you can follow some instructions.”

Her large hand reached out, tracing the curve of your waist with a touch that was both gentle and possessive. The contrast between her tenderness and the commanding tone of her words left you dizzy, caught in the intoxicating push and pull.

“But let’s see how well you can keep that obedience up,” she continued, her smirk widening as she hooked a finger under the strap of your bra, letting it snap against your skin. “Hands behind your back. Now.” Your body obeyed instinctively, your hands moving to clasp behind you, leaving yourself entirely at her mercy. Sevika’s smirk darkened as she stepped even closer, her chest brushing against yours, the heat of her body overwhelming.

“You’re so pretty like this,” she murmured, her tone dripping with condescension as she tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet her intense gaze. “Quiet. Submissive. Exactly how I like you.”

Her hand trailed down, brushing over your collarbone, then your chest, her fingers ghosting over the lace of your bra before stopping just short of touching you fully. Her other hand gripped your hip firmly, keeping you in place as her dark eyes bore into yours. “You want me to touch you, don’t you?” she asked, her voice a low, teasing purr.

You nodded quickly, your breath catching in your throat as her fingers teased the edge of your bra. A small whimper left your mouth, who could blame you? “What did I say about talking?” she growled, her grip on your hip tightening enough to make you gasp. “That includes stupid little noises, sweetheart.”

Your body stilled instantly, and her smirk returned, full of dark amusement. “That’s better,” she murmured, her fingers finally sliding under the lace, brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver. “But remember the second rule,” she said, her tone suddenly cold and sharp. Her hand retreated just as quickly as it had come, leaving you desperate for more. “You’ll only get what I decide to give you. And right now?”

She leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as her voice dropped to a whisper. “You don’t deserve it.”

Her words sent a jolt of frustration and need through you, but you held still, biting your lip to stop the whine that threatened to escape. Sevika chuckled darkly, clearly pleased by your restraint. “That’s my good girl,” she murmured, stepping back just enough to make you miss her warmth. “Now, on your knees.”

You hesitated for only a second before sinking to the floor, your eyes wide and locked on hers as you obeyed. Your arms still behind your back like she asked. Sevika towered over you, her presence overwhelming as she crossed her arms, looking down at you with a mix of satisfaction and expectation.

“Perfect,” she said, her voice dripping with approval. “Are you hungry, sweetheart? Because I think I have something for you to eat.”

The thought of what those words implied felt like some sort of god came down to grant you the world's greatest meal. You were ready, but you got a little ahead of yourself and moved your hands reaching out to hold onto the meat of her thighs. God how you loved them, how you could worship them.

Sevika growled, her gaze turning so cold it gave you chills and froze you in place. You were so distracted by your eagerness to eat her out that you forgot one simple instruction you were given. Her large hand shot out, grabbing both of your wrists and yanking them away from her thighs with a force that left you breathless.

“What did I just say about following instructions?” she hissed, her tone sharp and dripping with disappointment. Her grip on your wrists was firm, holding them in place as she loomed over you, her imposing figure making you feel small and utterly at her mercy.

“I-” you began to stammer, but Sevika’s glare silenced you immediately.

“Don’t,” she interrupted, her voice low and dangerous. “I told you, no talking. And now you can’t even keep your hands to yourself?” She released your wrists suddenly, and you let them fall back to your sides, trembling under her intense gaze. She stepped closer, her thighs brushing against your face in a way that made your mouth water, but you didn’t dare move again. “I was going to reward you,” she said, her tone cold as she looked down at you with a mix of annoyance and amusement. “But now you’ve gone and ruined it. You just can’t help yourself, can you, sweetheart?”

Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging your head back to force you to look up at her. The smirk that spread across her lips was cruel and full of intent. “Fine. If you want it so bad, you’ll work for it. But don’t think for a second I’m going to make it easy for you.” She pushed you back slightly, just enough to create space before taking her place on the edge of the bed. Her legs spread, the sight alone making your knees weak. She leaned back slightly, her eyes locked on yours, daring you to disobey her again.

“Crawl,” she commanded, her voice firm.

Your body obeyed instantly, your movements slow and deliberate as you made your way toward her. The tension in the room was suffocating, every nerve in your body alight with anticipation and a desperate need to please her. When you reached her, you paused, waiting for her next instruction. Her fingers tightened in your hair, guiding your head to rest against her thigh. “Good,” she murmured, her tone softening just slightly as she looked down at you. “Now show me how much you’ve learned.”

Your breath hitched, and you leaned in, placing a soft, reverent kiss against her skin. Her smirk deepened, her fingers loosening their grip on your hair just enough to allow you to move freely. “That’s it,” she purred, her voice low and filled with approval. “Let’s see if you can earn back my favour.”

Your lips pressed against Sevika’s thigh, soft and deliberate, each kiss a silent plea for forgiveness. Her skin was warm beneath your touch, the tension in her muscles betraying just how tightly she was holding herself together. You worked your way higher, your kisses slow and reverent, taking your time to worship her, just as she deserved. Sevika’s fingers tangled in your hair again, her grip tightening as she guided your movements. “That’s better,” she murmured, her tone rich with approval. “Maybe you’re finally starting to understand your place.”

Her words sent a shiver through you, a mixture of arousal and submission flooding your senses. You kissed higher, your lips brushing over the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, and you could feel the subtle twitch of her muscles beneath you.

“Keep going,” she commanded, her voice a low growl. You didn’t hesitate, trailing kisses up her thigh, your hands now clasped tightly behind your back, just as she had instructed earlier. The air around you was thick with anticipation, the scent of her driving you wild as you got closer to where you so desperately wanted to be. When your lips finally reached the top of her thighs, you paused, looking up at her for permission. Sevika smirked down at you, her dark eyes filled with a dangerous mix of amusement and desire.

“Now you remember to ask?” she teased, her tone dripping with condescension. Her fingers tightened in your hair, tilting your head back slightly. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me you can behave.” The tension in your body snapped, and you leaned in, pressing your lips against her with a hunger you could no longer contain. Sevika let out a low, satisfied groan, her hand in your hair guiding you as you worked. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice rough with pleasure. “Take your time. Make it good.”

You obeyed, your movements deliberate and precise, savouring every second as you focused on giving her exactly what she deserved. Her grip on your hair tightened with each sound of approval she made, her thighs twitching slightly around you as she began to lose herself in the pleasure. You swirled your tongue, motions starting to become instinctive rather than anything else. You need to prove yourself to Sevika, you want to make her feel so so good.

“Good girl,” she praised, her voice breathless and filled with satisfaction. “Maybe you’re not so hopeless after all.” Her words only spurred you on, your movements growing more fervent as you chased her approval. The heat of her body, the sound of her voice, the way her fingers gripped you like you were hers… it was all-consuming, and you couldn’t get enough.

“Don’t stop,” she commanded, her voice sharper now, her breathing uneven as she pushed you further. “I’m not done with you yet.” Sevika’s fingers tugged harder at your hair, her hips subtly rolling against your movements. Each pull sent a sharp sting through your scalp, grounding you further in your submission to her. You pressed in deeper, working with unrelenting dedication as her low, throaty groans echoed in the room. Your tongue worked at an unrelenting pace, not being able to use your hands was difficult but you were doing enough with your mouth.

“That’s it,” she growled, her voice rough with pleasure. “Just like that. Don’t you dare slow down.” Her thighs flexed around your face, caging you in as her control began to waver. You could feel the heat radiating off her body, her grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as her breathing grew ragged. She was close, and you could tell she was holding herself back, refusing to let go too quickly. “Greedy little thing,” she muttered through gritted teeth, her head falling back for a moment as she fought to maintain her dominance. “Look at you, so desperate to please me. So eager to be good for me.”

Her words sent a rush of heat through you, your own body responding to her praise and rough treatment with a neediness you couldn’t suppress. You moaned softly against her, the vibration drawing a sharp hiss from her lips.

“Did I say you could make noise?” she snapped, pulling your head back sharply and forcing you to look up at her. Her dark eyes bore into yours, her smirk returning as she took in your flushed, needy expression. “I think you need another reminder of who’s in charge here.”

Before you could process her words, Sevika yanked you up onto the bed, her strength overwhelming as she manhandled you effortlessly. She leaned in close, her breath hot against your ear as her hand wrapped around your throat, not enough to hurt but enough to assert her control.

“You’re mine,” she growled, her voice low and possessive. “And you’ll do exactly what I say, exactly how I say it. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly, the pressure of her hand on your throat stealing your voice. Sevika’s smirk widened, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your compliance. “Good,” she purred, releasing your throat and shoving you back onto the bed. She climbed over you, her imposing frame pinning you down as her hands roamed your body, rough and claiming. “Now, let’s see if you can keep being a good little thing for me, or if I need to teach you another lesson.”

Her lips crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, as she claimed you completely, leaving no doubt in your mind about who was in control.”This time, sweetheart, I’m going to sit on your pretty face. I’m going to use that delicate tongue how I want, now lay back.”

Sevika’s words sent a jolt through your body, her commanding tone leaving no room for hesitation. Your heart pounded in your chest as you obeyed, leaning back against the bed, your breath catching at the sheer intensity of her gaze. She smirked at your compliance, her calloused hands running possessively down your body as she adjusted herself, her knees bracketing your head. The weight of her dominance was palpable, her presence overwhelming as she positioned herself above you.

“Look at you,” she purred, her voice a low, sultry growl. “So obedient now. Maybe you’re learning after all.” Her hand slid into your hair, gripping tightly to keep you in place as she lowered herself, her thighs brushing against your cheeks. “You better make this good, sweetheart,” she warned, her tone dripping with authority. “Or you’ll regret it.”

Her body pressed against your lips, her heat and scent intoxicating as she claimed your mouth for her pleasure. Your hands instinctively moved to her thighs, desperate to steady yourself, but her grip on your hair tightened, pulling your head back just slightly. “Ah, ah,” she chided, her smirk wicked. “Hands stay off unless I tell you otherwise.”

You quickly dropped your hands to your sides, letting out a muffled moan as you began to obey her unspoken command. Your tongue moved in perfect rhythm, tasting her, worshipping her, and drawing a low groan from her lips that sent shivers through your entire body. “Just like that,” Sevika growled, her hips rolling against you, using you exactly as she pleased. “That’s a good girl.”

Her thighs flexed around your head, holding you in place as she lost herself in the pleasure you were giving her. The roughness of her movements, the way she dominated you so completely, left you breathless and utterly at her mercy. The noises were wet and sloppy, the room was filled with the most pleasing sounds.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she hissed, her voice strained as her pace quickened. “You’ll keep going until I’m satisfied. Understood? I don’t care if you suffocate- Y-You keep fucking going-” You nodded as best as you could, your tongue working tirelessly to please her, every sound of approval from her lips driving you to give her more. Her moans grew louder, her grip on your hair almost painful as she rode the edge of release.

“Perfect,” she muttered through clenched teeth, her voice raw with pleasure. “You’re mine. All mine. Good fucking girl, there we go- t-there-” Her body tensed, her hips stilling as she finally let go, her cries filling the room as she found her release. She held you there, letting the waves of pleasure wash over her before finally releasing her grip on your hair and pulling back slightly. Sevika looked down at you, her chest heaving, a satisfied smirk spreading across her lips.

“Good girl,” she said softly, her tone full of approval. “Maybe I won’t need to punish you after all… but don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”

[xoxochb]

omg aphrodite!reader having her first kiss with percy <3 it would be so cute rahhh

— ribbons in your hair ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

warnings: fluff fluff fluff!!! pairing: lovesick! percy jackson x daughter of aphrodite

“do you like ‘em?”

you smile brightly and turn around with a jump, revealing to percy your two braided strands tied at the ends with tiny pink ribbons. what kind of question was that, though? like them? of course he liked them! he liked anything that had anything even slightly to do with you.

“they’re great! I love them.”

you squeal and run over to sit atop your bed next to percy. absentmindedly, he takes this opportunity to take each of your braids between his palms delicately thumbs running over the curves of your hair, and ending over the ribbon tying it all together. he silently hopes you can’t see the utter adoration in his eyes or perhaps the faint blush coating his cheeks or the way he feels completely limp simply sitting beside you.

“(name)…” he murmurs, releasing your hair and letting his hands now fall on his lap.

“yes?”

shit. the soft tone of your voice makes him feel weak. thank the gods he’s sitting down.

“uhm…” he searches for the right words. no. he shouldn’t do this now, not when one of your siblings could walk in at any moment (and he new drew wasn’t entirely the nicest person either. that girl’s scary as shit). “nothing.”

you murmur an ‘oh’ and your smile falls into a frown.

“sorry, I just- well… it was nothing important, I didn’t think you’d care much.”

“I care about everything you have to say. even if it’s stupid. or one of your stupid dad jokes.” your lips turn upwards a tad at the mere remembrance of his idiotic humor.

“you hate dad jokes.”

“well, yours are okay.”

percy’s heart flutters like butterfly wings. please aphrodite don’t make me look stupid, he thinks to himself. though by now he’s probably already made a fool of himself. he’s hopeless. slowly, with a shaky hand, he reaches out to gently take one of your hands into his. he looks up to meet your eyes to look for any sign of discomfort with the action. he finds nothing.

“(name), have you ever…” he swallows harshly. “have you ever kissed anyone before?”

your brows furrow and you murmur, “no.”

oh. he was sure you had to have kissed someone before. you were… well, you! a favored daughter of aphrodite, kind, absolutely stunning, and admittedly a little horrifying sometimes. he loved you all the same regardless.

“I’ve never kissed anyone either.” it’s silent for a moment before he works up the courage to ask the next question. “would you maybe want to… well actually- can I tell you something?”

“of course.”

“this might be weird and I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore or if you’ll hate me… but I just… I really like you. more than friends. and I get this is weird but I really like you, it hurts, like in my chest it physically hurts me and it’s hard going everyday not telling you that I love you when I do and its almost unbearable at this point, I mean you occupy all my thoughts everything’s always about you, and don’t get cocky over that because I know you will and you’ll never let me get over telling you that but really what I’m trying to say is that—”

his ramble is abruptly ended when he feels a sudden warmth over his lips. for a moment he can’t understand what’s happening, but when his senses are regained he realizes it’s your lips that are locked with his, and his brain turns to soup, any coherent thought he once had diminished. and he lets himself sink into it despite the nervous storm of butterflies in his tummy.

when you eventually pull away he nearly whines at the loss of contact. though he remembers your hands are still entwined and calms. his gaze sticks on that.

“you talk too much,” you whisper. “and you’re right.”

“about what?” percy looks up to your eyes. though the mischievous glint in them makes him wish he hadn’t asked for clarification.

“I am so never going to let you forget that everything is about me.”

[v6quewrlds]

❝ borderline, j. burrow & t. higgins. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: working in and around the nfl for years, there aren't many people in the league who can knock you off your game. by some twist of fate, two of them show up together, hoping to lure you into their orbit.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: as requested by an anon <3 pls don't read if you're uncomfortable with this concept. didn't really know how to end this one so it's ambiguous lmao did this lowkey give me an idea for a pt 2? maybe. joe calls reader "sweetheart", tee calls reader "baby".

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, friends to lovers (?) the plural is intentional, threesome, fingering, eiffel tower but not really, blowjob, face fucking, cum eating, facial, somewhat dom!joe, switch!tee, pre-meditated threesome if you squint, praise kink.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: joe burrow x reader x tee higgins.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 6.8k.

You walked through the grand hotel lobby, your stilettos clicking against the marble floor. Your emerald green dress clung to your body like a glove, drawing the occasional admiring glance. You had looked forward to this wedding the entire season, eager to see your favorite players and closest friends all congregated in one place. As a sports journalist, you had become accustomed to the glitz and glamour of high-profile events, but this one felt different. It was personal.

The reception area was a flurry of activity as guests mingled and waitstaff glided around with trays of hors d'oeuvres and sparkling drinks. The scent of expensive perfumes and cologne hung in the air, mixed with the faint aroma of roasting meat from the nearby dining hall.

You spotted your close friend Bree chatting with a few other guests, her eyes lighting up when she caught sight of you. Bree waved you over, gesturing to the table you had been assigned. To your surprise, Joe Burrow and Tee Higgins, two of the Cincinnati Bengals' star players, were already seated at the table, sipping on their drinks and looking dapper in their tuxedos.

"Hey, y'all," you greeted them with a bright smile, placing your clutch on the table. "I didn't know you two were close to Amber and Dan."

Joe's smile was warm, but his sarcasm was as sharp as ever, his eyes crinkling as he took a sip of his whiskey. "To be honest, I'm not sure why I was invited. Maybe they felt sorry for me because I don't get out much." The admission drew chuckles from the rest of the table, but you knew him well enough to detect the hint of self-deprecating playfulness in his voice.

Tee spoke up next, his signature soft-spoken confidence unwavering even amidst the buzz of the crowded room. "I've known Amber since college, actually. Her sister dated my roommate." He leaned back in his seat, a glass of champagne in hand, his eyes lingering on your face as he took a sip. "You close with Daniel?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of pride as you thought of your career achievements. "Yeah, I've had some pretty memorable interviews with him. The sit-down I did with him after his knee injury helped me land my gig on First Take." You took a sip of your own drink, the cool liquid doing little to quell the heat rising in your cheeks as you weathered the intense gazes of the two athletes.

"How sweet," Joe said with a smirk, raising his glass of whiskey in a mock toast. "Is that why you swore he was league MVP last season?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up from your chest. "Okay, okay, I might have been a bit biased. But I owed him for that interview," you took a sip of your drink, the cool liquid sliding down your throat, your eyes dancing with mischief. "Were you jealous?"

Joe's smirk grew wider, his blue eyes flickered over to Tee's brown ones before moving back to find yours. "Maybe a little," he admitted, his hand landing casually on your thigh, sending a jolt of excitement through your body. You felt the heat rising from his palm through the thin fabric of your dress, and you couldn't help but lean into his touch.

As if sensing it was his turn to flirt with you, Tee leaned closer, his hand ghosting against your shoulder as it fell over the back of your chair. "How's First Take going for you? Still holding your own against Stephen A?" His voice was a smooth rumble, and you couldn't help but smile, the tension easing a bit.

"I defended you guys last week, you know," you said with a smirk, swirling the ice in your drink. "Told him you're both underappreciated."

Joe's eyes lit up. "You did?" His hand fell heavier around your thigh as Tee's fingers traced lazy circles into your exposed skin, the warmth of their body heat seeping into your very soul. "I knew I liked you for a reason."

The words left his mouth casually, but you felt a flutter in your stomach. Tee's accompanying laugh did little to ease the tension that had suddenly thickened the air around the three of you.

The conversation grew more intimate, their touches lingering longer, the air around you crackling with unspoken desires. You felt the weight of their gazes on you, the way they studied your every move, every breath. It was like being the star of their own private show, and you found yourself playing up to their attention, your laughs a little louder, your movements a little more exaggerated.

Bree had long disappeared into the crowded dance floor, leaving you alone with Joe and Tee. Your conversation grew quieter, and more intimate, as you shared stories of your lives outside of football. You felt a strange connection with the two men, a bond that extended beyond the superficial. You tried your best to ignore the heat building between your legs as Joe's fingers traced patterns into your bare skin. Tee's thumb pressing into the pressure point at the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The music grew louder, the rhythm pulsing through the floor and into your bodies. The lights grew dimmer, casting a seductive glow over the three of you. You found yourself leaning into Tee's touch, your eyes locked onto Joe's as he spoke about his most recent charity event for his foundation. His words cast a sharp contrast with the deep, soothing, seduction of his voice.

The conversation grew more flirty, Joe's hand sliding further up your thigh under the cover of the tablecloth. You gasped, trying to keep your cool, but the heat of his touch was like a brand on your skin. Tee noticed your reaction and leaned in, whispering something to Joe that made his eyes darken with desire.

"You good?" Tee asked, his voice a soft rumble against your ear. You nodded, your voice a little shaky. "Yeah, I'm okay." But you weren't okay; your nerves were on fire, the anticipation building like a storm in your chest.

The tension at the table grew so thick it was almost tangible, your eyes speaking volumes in the dimly lit room. When Joe leaned in closer, his breath a warm caress against your neck, you couldn't resist anymore. You turned to him, your eyes asking him a silent question, unwilling to potentially tip off a noisy guest to your newfound chemistry. Tee watched, his own desire evident in the way he licked his lips, his hand moving from your neck to squeeze your other thigh.

Recognizing the confirmation in Joe's eyes, your head turned to look at Tee, the same question in your eyes. He answered it with a smoldering gaze that left no room for doubt. "Come with us," he murmured, his voice a seductive invitation that sent a thrill through your body.

The three of you stood as one, the two men flanking your sides like bodyguards, guiding you through the sea of wedding guests. The music grew louder, the rhythm beckoning you to the dance floor, but you had other plans. Your heart raced as Joe's hand slid down your back, his fingers tracing the curve of your ass, while the back of Tee's hand brushed against yours. The electricity between you was undeniable, a current that could light up the entire hotel.

The three of you moved through the crowd, the warmth of your bodies pressing together, the heat of your desire almost too much to handle. When you reached the elevator, the tension was unbearable. Joe's hands pulled your back flush against his chest, making you gasp as his strong hands wandered across the material of your dress. Tee stood in front of you, his hand tipping your head back as he claimed your mouth in a kiss that was anything but casual. The doors closed, and the world outside was forgotten.

The elevator ride was a blur of hands and lips, the three of you exploring each other's bodies like you had been waiting for this moment your entire lives. Your dress was hiked up, Joe's hand slipping under your panties to feel the wetness that had pooled there. Tee's hand found your breasts, kneading them gently as Joe whispered sweet nothings into your ear. The ding of the elevator arriving at Tee's floor brought you back to reality with a jolt. You stumbled out into the hallway, breathless and desperate.

Tee fumbled with the keycard, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You giggled as Joe muttered low and bitter under his breath, "Take your time, buddy."

The door finally clicked open, and the three of you tumbled into the room, a whirlwind of lust and passion. The lights were dimmed, casting a seductive glow across the plush king-sized bed. Your heart pounded in your chest as you watched the two men, both so powerful on the field, look at you with a hunger you hadn't seen before.

Joe took the lead, his eyes dark with desire as he approached you, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you against his firm chest. His kiss was demanding, his tongue delving into your mouth as if he could taste your thoughts, your fears, your desires. Tee's hands were on your shoulders, pushing the dress down your arms, exposing your bare breasts to the cool air. You gasped as Joe's mouth moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as his hands found your nipples, ghosting his fingertips over the peaks.

"Hold on," you said, placing a hand on Joe's wrist to still his movements. You took a deep breath, your eyes searching theirs for any sign of doubt. "Are you two sure that if I do this, there won't be some blonde chick harassing me on Instagram afterward?"

"You know we don't do drama. That's the last thing we need before the season," Joe assured you, his hands sliding up your arms to cup your shoulders. "We're just here to have a good time." His voice was a low purr, his gaze intense.

Tee stepped closer to you, a tattooed hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "We promise, baby," he whispered, his eyes dark with lust. "This is just about us, right here, right now."

You searched their eyes, the room spinning with a mix of excitement and trepidation. You nodded slowly before speaking up again, "Okay, no pics, no videos, and this stays between the three of us. Agreed?"

"Scout's honor," Joe murmured, his hand sliding around your waist and pulling you closer.

Tee leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The room felt electrified as your body responded instinctively, your hands moving to rest on his broad chest. You could feel Joe's erection pressing against your back, his breath hot against your neck as he watched the exchange. The heat of their bodies, the scent of your desire, and the promise of what was to come washed over you like a wave.

"You guys are playing with fire," you murmured against Tee's mouth, but the smirk that played on his lips told you he knew exactly what he was doing. He broke the kiss, a knowing look passing between the two men. You gasped, pushing back against Joe as his hands found your tits, his palms squeezing them roughly, thumbs brushing against your nipples through the fabric of your dress.

"We know," Joe whispered in your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "But sometimes, you've gotta risk getting burned." His hand slipped down to the zipper of your dress, pulling it down slowly, inch by torturous inch. The cool air of the room hit your bare back, making your skin pebble with goosebumps.

Tee stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he began to unbutton his shirt, his muscles rippling with every movement. You felt a rush of arousal as he revealed his sculpted chest, the ink on his skin telling a story of strength and resilience. He slid the shirt off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, and you couldn't help but bite your lips in anticipation.

"You're so fuckin' sexy," Joe murmured, his hand slipping into your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Tee's hands on your hips as he turned you to face him. The two men moved around you like a perfectly choreographed dance, each touch setting your skin on fire.

The two men took turns kissing you, each one's touch different yet equally electrifying. Joe's kisses were demanding, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that made your legs tremble. Tee's were soft and gentle, his lips brushing yours in a way that made you feel cherished. Your hands roamed over their broad chests, feeling the firmness of their muscles beneath the warm skin.

Tee stepped away, his eyes dark with desire as he took in the sight of you. "Damn, baby," he breathed, reaching out to trace the curves of your breasts. His thumbs brushed against your nipples, making them peak. Joe's hands slid down your back, unclipping your bra and letting it fall away. The cool air made you gasp, your breasts bouncing slightly as you were exposed to them in nothing but the flimsy excuse for panties you had chosen for the night.

The tension in the room was thick, the anticipation almost a tangible force. You felt their eyes on you, the weight of their desire a heavy presence that made your knees weak. You stepped out of your heels, the impact of your bare feet on the carpeted floor leaving the football players towering over you.

"Get on the bed," Tee murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You obeyed, your legs feeling like jelly as you crawled onto the plush mattress. As you sat, perched and pretty, on the comforter, Joe began to undress, allowing Tee to make the first move.

Tee's eyes never left yours as he approached, his tuxedo jacket tossed aside and his bow tie undone. His large, strong hands reached for you, gripping your ankles and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You felt the heat from his body as he leaned in, his warm breath fanning your face as he whispered, "You're so fucking beautiful."

His words sent a shiver through you as he pushed your thighs apart, revealing your damp panties. Joe stepped closer, his own pants undone, his erection straining against his boxer briefs. He reached out, sliding one finger along the lacy fabric before hooking his thumbs into the waistband and pulling them to the side, exposing you to their hungry gazes.

"Goddamn," Tee whispered, his eyes locked on your nakedness. Joe's dick grew harder in his briefs as he watched his friend's reaction, his own desire mirrored in the tightness of Tee's jaw. Your heart was racing, your chest rising and falling with anticipation. You felt a thrill run through you as you watched their reactions, your own anticipation reaching a fever pitch.

"Prettiest pussy you've ever seen, huh?" Joe said with a smirk, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your bare skin. Tee nodded, unable to form coherent words as he stared.

You felt a warmth creep up your neck as you both took a moment to appreciate your body. You had always felt confident in your own skin, but the raw, carnivorous hunger in their expressions was something you had never experienced before. It was like they were really seeing you for the first time, and the thought of being desired by two such powerful, successful men was a heady aphrodisiac.

The room grew quiet, and the only sound was the rustle of clothes being removed. Your breathing grew shallow as Joe knelt before you, his eyes never leaving yours as he slowly peeled off your panties. Tee sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes raking over your exposed flesh with a look that made you quiver with anticipation. You could see his cock, thick and hard, straining against his boxers.

"You're so beautiful," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your thigh. He placed a soft kiss to your inner thigh, sending a shiver up your spine. Tee leaned in, his warm breath caressing your skin as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, his hand moving to cup your breast. You felt like you were in a dream, the reality of the situation slowly sinking in as Joe's tongue found your clit.

Their touches grew more urgent, more demanding, as they worked in tandem to bring you to the edge. Your hips began to rock, your body responding instinctively to the sensations they were creating. You felt Joe's hand slip between your legs, his fingers teasing your folds before sliding inside you, the feel of his thick digits stretching you and setting your body alight. Tee's mouth found yours, a heavy hand reaching to squeeze at the sides of your neck, your moans muffled by his kisses.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as Joe's thumb found your clit, circling the sensitive nub with the expertise of a maestro conducting an orchestra of pleasure. Tee's tongue danced with yours, his teeth grazing your bottom lip. You felt yourself spiraling closer to the precipice, your body tightening around Joe's hand.

The room was a whirlwind of sensations: the scent of their cologne, the sound of fabric shifting, the feel of Joe's calloused hands on your skin. It was almost too much, and you were lost in a haze of pleasure when Tee broke away, leaving you gasping for air.

"Gonna come, baby?" Tee's question was a breathy murmur in your ear, his hand moving from your neck to cup your cheek as he watched your face contort with pleasure. You could only nod, unable to form words as Joe's fingers worked their magic.

Your eyes locked onto Tee's above you as you felt Joe's thumb press down hard on your clit, your body arching off the bed as your orgasm hit you like a wave, crashing over you in an explosion of color and sensation. You moaned weakly, your pussy clenching around Joe's hand as you rode the peak, your nails digging into the mattress.

When you finally came down, Joe withdrew his hand, a smug smile on his face. As if sharing a sense of telepathy, the two men stood up simultaneously to remove their boxers, revealing their generous lengths. You couldn't help but whimper at the sight, your heart racing with excitement and nerves.

"Make some room for me," Tee said with a mischievous smile, sliding onto the bed behind you as you sat up. His hand traveled down your body, his thumb brushing the swollen bud of your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. You gasped as he began to pump them in and out, his touch gentle yet firm.

Joe, who had stepped up to the edge of the bed, watched with darkened eyes as Tee worked his magic. He nodded towards Tee's lap as your eyes fluttered open. "You gonna get on top, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. You licked your lips, nodding eagerly.

With a smile, you shuffled over to Tee, your eyes meeting his hooded browns. You straddled Tee's thighs, feeling his hardness beneath you. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of you, his breathing heavy, before he leaned up and kissed you again, his tongue dancing with yours. You could feel Joe's eyes on the two of you, his gaze burning into your skin as you reached down to stroke Tee's dick before sinking down on it with a moan.

The feel of him filling you sent you both spiraling and you had to bite back a scream as you adjusted to his size. Tee's hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as you began to ride him. The sound of your bodies slapping together filled the room, mingling with your moans and gasps for air. You leaned back into Joe as he slotted behind you, his hands pressing blistering heat into your skin as he kissed your neck and whispered encouragement into your ear.

Tee pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, his eyes hooded with desire as he watched you take him in. He reached up, his hands finding your tits, and began to tease your nipples as you rode him. The sight of you bouncing on his dick, your pussy squeezing him with every move, had him on the edge of his seat, quite literally. You threw your head back, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you moaned out Tee's name, feeling the heat of Joe's chest against your back.

Joe's hands began to wander, caressing your body as you moved in rhythm with Tee. His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in slow circles that had your pussy spasming around Tee's cock. Your moans grew louder, your body moving faster as Joe's touch grew more insistent. You felt Tee's cock thicken inside you, and you knew he was close.

"Fuck, Joe, you seein' this shit?" Tee's voice was strained, his eyes glazed with pleasure as he watched your body take his length. Joe's only response was a low, feral growl as he continued to tease your clit.

"Perfect fuckin' fit," Joe murmured, his own arousal clear as he lazily stroked himself in time with your rhythm.

Your breathing grew shallow, your eyes locked onto Tee's. You felt Joe's breath against your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as his fingers worked their magic. "I'm gonna cum," you gasped, your voice a desperate plea.

"Again?" Tee teased, brown eyes glittering with excitement as he watched your body tense with the approaching wave of pleasure. "I ain't complaining, but you're gonna wear me out." Your face grew hot as you felt the dual pressure of Tee inside you and Joe's thumb on your clit, pushing you to the edge.

"I can't help it," you panted, "you two are just too much."

Joe's chuckle was a dark promise against your ear. "We're just getting to the good part," he half promised, half teased, his breath sending shivers down your spine.

The room was a whirlwind of sensation: the slick slide of skin, the scent of arousal, the heat of two men surrounding you. Finally, you threw your head back again, your dark hair fanning out against Joe's pale shoulder as you came, your pussy clamping down on Tee's cock.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the orgasm ripped through you, drawn out by the feel of both Joe and Tee's hands on you. You barely registered Tee's cock slipping away from your heat, chuckling darkly as Joe watched your body spasm with pleasure. The quarterback muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck me," and you felt a shyness creep over your cheeks, even in the throes of passion.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart," Joe finally murmured, his voice thick with desire. You complied, your legs shaky as Joe helped you to your feet. Tee leaned back on his elbows, his cock still throbbing against his stomach, glistening with your combined arousal.

Joe's hands slid around your waist, positioning you to face Tee. He whispered in her ear, "Suck his cock, baby. Make him feel good."

Your eyes widened, but the desire in Joe's voice and the way Tee's eyes lit up at the suggestion made your body respond immediately. You leaned over the edge of the bed as Tee scooted backward to allow room for your chest to rest on the sheets between his spread legs. Carefully, Tee swept your hair up into a crude ponytail, giving him an unobstructed view of your beautiful brown skin and the way your back arched with anticipation.

Your mouth hovered over Tee's cock, your breath warm against the sensitive flesh. His hands tangled in your hair, guiding you down as you took him in. Your cheeks hollowed out as you sucked him in deep, your eyes closing delicately as you moaned around the taste of your arousal coating his length.

Joe's hand trailed over your skin to squeeze at your ass, sliding his cock to nestle in your warm pearl. "Fuck, you feel amazing," he murmured, his voice a gruff rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You moaned around Tee's cock, the vibrations making him twitch with pleasure. Tee's grip tightened in your hair, guiding your movements as he guided your head up and down his length, his eyes tracing over your blissed-out expression.

Your bodies moved in harmony, a symphony of passion and desire that had been building since you first set eyes on each other that evening. The room was a whirlwind of sensations - Joe's calloused fingers digging into your skin, Tee's cock sliding in and out of your mouth, and the smell of your combined arousal. You felt like you were floating, weightless and free, as you gave in to the moment.

With a surge of energy, you lifted from Tee's dick, swirling your tongue around his mushroom tip with a self-indulgent smile. Joe's eyes lit up as he watched you, his own arousal evident as he continued thrusting into you. Tee's chest heaved as he took in the sight of you, his abs clenching with the effort to hold back.

"What the fuck?" Tee's eyes went wide with shock and arousal as he watched your teeth graze lightly over the most sensitive part of him, your eyes all innocent and pure as you gazed up at him. He didn't know what was happening, but his body was definitely on board. Your tongue flicked out, licking up the precum that beaded at the tip of his cock, making him grit his teeth in an attempt to keep from coming too soon.

Joe's breath was hot against your neck as he whispered, "Take him all the way in, baby," his hands on your hips pushing you down slightly. You obeyed, taking Tee deep into your mouth, the sound of your wetness as Joe fucked you from behind echoing through the room.

The sensation was overwhelming, the taste of Tee combined with the feeling of Joe's cock deep inside you making you moan around the head of Tee's dick. The vibrations sent his bottom lip between his teeth, his head dipping back with a strangled groan, nostrils flaring with concentration. You felt Joe's grip tighten, his thrusts growing more erratic as he approached his own climax. Tee's eyes never left yours, the intensity of his gaze making your pussy clench around Joe's cock.

"Fuck," Tee hissed as your head bobbed up and down, your cheeks hollowing with each suck. The sight of your full lips stretched around his length and Joe's hand guiding you was more than he could handle. His own hand tightened in your hair, his hips jerking involuntarily.

"So good," you moaned around Tee's cock, your body trembling with the force of Joe's thrusts. Your third orgasm was building, a storm gathering on the horizon, ready to unleash its fury at any moment. Tee's hand stroked your cheek, the sweetness of his touch a stark contrast to the raw, animalistic need driving Joe.

"Good girl," Joe groaned, his grip tightening on your hips as he watched you take Tee's cock deeper into your mouth. He could feel you tightening around him, your body begging for release. "Prettiest girl I've ever seen," the quarterback whispered, his voice thick with lust.

Tee's eyes rolled back, lost in the pleasure of your mouth. His hand on the back of your head grew more insistent, his hips bucking slightly as he approached climax. Your eyes watered, but you didn't pull away, your own pleasure building with every gag and moan you muffled around Tee's dick.

"Oh, shit," he moaned, his voice a deep, guttural sound that sent another shiver down your spine. You felt Joe's cock thicken even more inside you, his hips stuttering as he fought to hold back.

"Bet she dreamed about this, Tee," Joe murmured, his breath hot against your neck. You felt Tee's cock twitch in your mouth at the words, his eyes dark with desire.

"I know she did. Drooling all over my dick like this. Lookin' all pretty," Tee chuckled, his voice strained with arousal.

With that, Joe took over once again. He pulled you off Tee's cock, laughing out loud as his wide receiver shot him a sour look. "Joe," he groaned holding his hands up in protest, but Joe was having none of it.

You felt the warmth of Joe's breath on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, "Gonna look so much prettier with his cum all over your pretty face, gorgeous."

The thought sent a jolt of excitement through you, and you moaned out loud, closing your eyes as you tried to will yourself to hold off on your burgeoning orgasm. Tee's eyes widened as he caught onto Joe's words, a devious smirk playing on his lips.

The tension in the room grew palpable as Tee's hand on the back of your head grew firmer, guiding your movements. You felt his cock swell, the veins pulsing against your tongue. Your eyes watered as you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his shaft. The feeling of being used so thoroughly, by two men who had you pinned and writhing with pleasure, was intoxicating.

"Open that pretty mouth for me, baby," Tee urged softly, his voice thick with lust. You complied, presenting your tongue as Tee's cock slid out of your mouth, leaving a trail of precum. You watched as he stroked himself, his hand moving fast and sure.

"God, you're so fucking sexy," Joe murmured, his eyes locked onto the scene before him. You could feel his breath on your neck, his own arousal leaking into you. The anticipation was unbearable, the room seemingly closing in on you as Tee's strokes grew faster. You felt Joe's hand come down to rest on your lower back, hips stilling as Tee approached his climax.

"Gonna paint that pretty face, baby," Tee warned you, his voice tight with restraint. You nodded eagerly, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt the first warm spurt of cum hit your cheek, sliding down to your chin. Tee groaned, his hand moving in fast jerks as he coated you in his release. When he was done, you opened your eyes to find Joe watching you, his own desire clear.

Joe's hand moved from your back to your face, his thumb brushing over your cum-covered cheek. "Taste it," he instructed, his voice a seductive growl. You obeyed, your kiss-swollen lips wrapping around the pad of his thumb, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, feeling the stickiness of Tee's release on your skin.

"You fuckin' liked that, didn't you?" Tee's voice was filled with a mix of pride and satisfaction as he watched you lick his cum off Joe's thumb. Your eyes sparkled with amusement as you nodded, a giggle bubbling out of you. The room was thick with the scent of your combined arousal, your hearts pounding in sync with the pulsing beat of the bass from the party below.

Joe's smile grew wicked. His grip on your hips tightened, his dick still buried deep inside you as he began to move again, slowly at first. You fully moaned out, any shyness completely forgotten as you felt Joe twitch inside you. The power play between them had you more turned on than you'd ever been.

Tee laughed as he finally began to recover from his orgasm. "Go 'head, baby, make Joey cum. I think he worked hard for it." He winked at you, who rolled your eyes playfully. The room was thick with lust, your heavy breathing echoing off the walls.

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Think he's right, sweetheart?" he questioned, his voice low and rough. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt him begin to move again, his strokes deep and deliberate. You moaned around the taste of Tee's cum, the sound muffled by your head falling into the sheets.

"Fuck, yes," you managed to murmur, your hips rocking back to meet him. Joe's chuckle was deep and dark as he picked up his pace, his hands moving to squeeze your sides as he drove into you. Your eyes rolled back in your head, the feeling of being filled with Joe's cock and watching Tee's exhausted, satisfied face was overwhelming.

"Look at me, sweetheart," Joe demanded, his voice strained as he pulled you up against him. Your back arched as you opened your eyes to find his piercing blues staring down at you. "I wanna see your face when I come inside you."

Your eyes locked onto his, the intensity of his gaze setting your body ablaze. You could feel the muscles in your core tightening, your orgasm building with every stroke. Joe's grip on your hips grew fiercer, his movements punctuated by the slap of your bodies meeting. The head of his cock nudged your g-spot with precision, sending sparks through your body.

"Look at me," Joe repeated, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. You did as you were told, your eyes connecting in a silent agreement that this was more than just a casual fling. There was something deeper, something raw and primal that bound you two together in this moment.

The room seemed to spin around you as Joe's thrusts grew more erratic. You could feel his cock swelling inside you, the promise of his climax imminent. You leaned back, your breasts bouncing with each thrust as you threw your head back, your mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

"Fuck, yes," you gasped, your eyes fluttering shut. "I'm gonna cum again." The words were barely out of your mouth before you felt the warmth of Joe's release fill you up. He groaned, his hips bucking against you, his orgasm intense and powerful. Tee watched, his hand still around his cock, stroking slowly as he took in the sight of two of his close friends, lost in their shared passion.

Your body shuddered as the waves of pleasure washed over you, your hands slotting over Joe's as he trailed a hand up to squeeze at the sides of your neck, constricting your airways deliciously. Joe's cock continued to pulse inside you, painting your insides with his seed as your walls fluttered around him. The heady scent of sex filled the air, intoxicating and overwhelming. You felt Joe's grip on your hips ease, his breathing slowing as he pulled out.

Tee's eyes never left yours, his hand still moving languidly on his shaft. He looked up at Joe, a silent question in his gaze. Joe nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, and Tee moved in closer, his hand reaching for your chin. He turned your face to him, and you felt his kiss, soft and gentle, almost tender in contrast to the fiery passion you had just shared with Joe. It sent a refreshing wave of serenity over you, and you melted into it, your body still quivering from the aftershocks of your climax.

"You good?" Tee asked softly, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. You nodded, your eyes flicking from Tee to Joe and back again, the gravity of what you had just done settling in. The room was quiet except for your synchronized breathing, and you could feel their eyes on you, watching your every move, every reaction, every twitch of your relaxing muscles.

You felt Joe's weight shift away from you, retreating to the bathroom to grab some washcloths. When he returned, he tossed one to Tee and used the other one to wipe you down gently, his touch surprisingly tender. You looked down at the mess you'd made off the bed, a mix of cum and sweat, and felt a strange sense of pride. These were two of the most eligible bachelors in the NFL, and here they were, sharing you like a treasure.

Your trio lay in a tangled heap of limbs, your breaths syncing as you all came down from the high of your shared experience. The tension of earlier was gone, replaced by a warm, contented silence. You felt a sense of belonging you hadn't known in a long time as Joe's hand trailed lazily across your back and Tee's arm draped over your waist. You were a unit now, bound by a secret that only the three of you knew.

As the reality of what had just transpired began to sink in, you couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement and a hint of nervousness. You looked between them, two men you had known for years, two men you had never thought of in this way until tonight.

"What the hell just happened?" you murmured, a giggle bubbling up from your chest.

Joe leaned in, his expression a mix of satisfaction and amusement. "I think we just had the best sex of our lives," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. Tee's eyes twinkled with playfulness as he nodded in agreement. "All because of you, baby," he added, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You couldn't help the scoff that escaped your lips as the teammates reached over your body to dap each other up in shared accomplishment. A "My man," slipped through the quiet from Tee's lips, his voice still hoarse from his orgasm. The sight of the two men celebrating their supposed victory, their friendship so clear even in the most intimate of moments, filled you with a strange sense of comfort.

"So, you two wanna explain why you're so good at this?" you teased, poking Joe in the ribs, the blonde squirming at your touch. "It's like you've practiced."

Joe's smirk grew wider. "I think this is pretty close to what we do on the field, you know? That QB-WR connection? We've got it down." His eyes twinkled as he leaned in closer to you. "We just knew what we wanted." His hand traveled down your side, sending a fresh wave of tingles across your skin.

"Once we figured out we both had feelings for you, we figured we could share," Tee whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "You're too much for just one of us to handle anyway." He chuckled, his hand sliding down your thigh. "It doesn't hurt that we make a pretty good team."

"And what would you two have done if I said no?" you asked, your voice revealing a hint of a challenge. You couldn't help the smirk that tugged at your lips as you watched the two men exchange glances, the unspoken communication between them almost comical in its synchronicity.

"I'd fuckin' kill him, he talked me into it," Tee said with a chuckle, reaching over you playfully jostle Joe. "But for real, we knew you'd be down."

Joe's expression grew serious. "We respect you too much to push you into anything." He brushed a lock of hair from your face. "We just wanted to be honest. Let you know how we feel."

You searched their faces, the gravity of their words sinking in. "I appreciate that," you said softly. "But what now? This isn't exactly something you tell people at work when they ask about your weekend."

Joe nodded. "We know. That's why it's just between us. What happens in this room, stays in this room." His thumb traced circles on your lower back, sending shivers up your spine. "But if you're into it, we could keep this going."

Tee leaned in, his voice a gentle rumble against your skin. "Just something casual. No strings, no drama. Just something between us three. We got each other's backs, always."

Your heart raced at the thought. It was risky, especially with your career in and around the league. But the connection you felt with Joe and Tee was undeniable, a potent cocktail of attraction and friendship that you hadn't experienced before. The thrill of secrecy only added to the allure.

"Okay," you said, your voice a hesitant whisper. "But only if we're all clear on the rules. No one outside this room can ever know. Ever."

Joe and Tee nodded solemnly, their eyes locked on yours. "You got it," Joe said, his thumb brushing over your plump lower lip. "Our lips are sealed."

This was fucking insane.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, “Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

[thedensworld]

Gentle Daddy | C. Sc

Pairing: Scoups x reader

Genre: fluff, parent au

Summary: welcome aboard to the threenager stage of Seungcheol's son and how he parents him.

Seungcheol was seventeen when he met Chan, the youngest of their group. Was Chan a little brother? Yes. But at the start? Not quite. To Seungcheol, Chan was just another kid, someone he had to look after out of duty rather than choice.

As the oldest in their group, Seungcheol often became the subject of jokes about his strict ways. “Everyone, if you don’t wake up on three, I’ll give you 10 more laps of running,” Seungkwan teased, mimicking Seungcheol's commanding tone from their training days, complete with a mock-serious expression that drew laughter.

“Seungcheol hyung definitely needs someone gentle to balance that out,” Chan piped up with a cheeky grin. But before he could finish, Seungcheol raised an eyebrow and asked, “Balance what?”

Chan swallowed nervously, waving his hand dismissively as the others burst into laughter. “No, no, I was talking to myself,” he stammered.

But now, Seungcheol stood in a different scene, holding his three-year-old son, Wontae, on his arm during his birthday party. The house was filled with chatter and laughter, the kind only close friends could bring.

“Your interior is beautiful, Seungcheol. Come over and do mine next,” Jeonghan quipped, throwing a casual compliment with a hint of a request. Seungcheol rolled his eyes, scoffing.

“Appa did my room too!” Wontae beamed proudly at Jeonghan. Jeonghan’s features softened as he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Your appa is very talented, isn’t he?”

Seungcheol discovered his passion for interior design when he was searching online for the perfect nursery layout for Wontae. But nothing he found could match the vision in his mind. After discussing it with you, he decided to take matters into his own hands. Trips to the hardware store turned into projects that filled his weekends: crafting custom cabinets, building desks, and designing coffee tables.

In preparation for the party, Seungcheol went all out—rearranging furniture, painting walls, and adding small decorative touches that showcased his new hobby.

“It’s almost as good as Mingyu’s house,” Jeonghan said with a mischievous smirk. Seungcheol chuckled, nodding in agreement. “I think taking care of others did that to me. Just like how Mingyu took care of everything for us back in the day.”

“I want to get down,” Wontae said, squirming in his father’s arms. Seungcheol gently set him down, watching with a smile as his son darted over to Wonwoo, who was showing him a video game on his phone.

“He’s going to be three, wow!” Jeonghan remarked, shaking his head in disbelief. “It feels like just yesterday when I first held him.”

“How is it like?” Jeonghan asked, a rare tone of seriousness in his voice.

Seungcheol sighed, his lips curving into a soft smile. “Go get married and have one yourself,” he said playfully.

“Jeonghan’s getting married?” Your voice chimed in as you returned from putting Wonna, your four-month-old daughter, to sleep. Both Seungcheol and Jeonghan turned toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes softened as he reached for your waist, pulling you gently into his side.

“Is she asleep?” he asked, concern blending with affection. You nodded, resting a hand on his chest.

“Don’t listen to him,” Jeonghan interjected, rolling his eyes but unable to hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“I feel really bad that you’re going through all of this right after giving birth, just for his birthday party,” Jeonghan joked, glancing around at the well-decorated room. The party was being held the day after Seungcheol’s birthday, even though Wontae’s actual birthday was next week.

“I told you, it’s for Wontae!” Seungcheol insisted, his tone defensive but playful.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Jeonghan, I gave birth four months ago. Besides, I’m grateful that Joshua and Mingyu helped with the food prep.” You nodded toward Joshua and Mingyu, who were now joined by Jihoon in the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and joking with each other.

Suddenly, a tiny voice interrupted the grown-up conversation. “Look what Uncle Hoshi got me! It’s a matching tiger onesie for me and Wonna!” Wontae announced proudly, holding up the tiny outfit with wide eyes full of excitement.

Seungcheol’s eyes flicked to Hoshi, who was now rolling on the floor, laughing at Wontae’s reaction. The older man couldn’t help but smirk, shaking his head.

You smiled and turned to Seungcheol. “I’ll go help him with his present,” you said, squeezing his arm before walking over to your son.

Jeonghan, still standing beside Seungcheol, gave him a knowing pat on the shoulder. “You know, it’s great you married Y/N. I never thought I’d see the day when the legendary Seungcheol, the training tyrant, would become the poster child for gentle parenting.”

Seungcheol scoffed, turning to Jeonghan with a mock glare. “A monster? Really? You’re one to talk,” he protested, crossing his arms but unable to suppress the grin threatening to break through.

Jeonghan just laughed, throwing his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I’m just stating the facts. Besides, we all know you wouldn’t be half as patient if it weren’t for her.”

Seungcheol glanced across the room where you were now helping Wontae into the tiger onesie, a soft smile crossing his face. The room buzzed with laughter and warmth, the chaos of their little family perfectly imperfect.

*

Seungcheol woke up a bit late this morning, the warm glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains. A soft smile spread across his face as he took in the sight of his family already gathered at the dining table for breakfast. The sound of Wontae’s cheerful voice filled the room when he spotted his dad entering.

“Appa!” Wontae called out with excitement, his tiny hands waving eagerly. Seungcheol walked over and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Wontae’s head before his eyes found Wonna, cradled in your arms, contentedly finishing her second bottle of the day.

“Wonna Wonna~ did you sleep well, my princess?” Seungcheol cooed, his heart melting at the sight of his daughter’s chubby cheeks. Wonna wriggled in your embrace, her eyes lighting up as she recognized her father’s voice.

“You had breakfast, love?” Seungcheol’s gaze shifted to you, his tone laced with concern. You shook your head with a soft smile. “I was waiting for you.”

He grinned, taking Wonna gently from your arms. “I’ll play with Wonna for a bit. Go have your breakfast.”

You nodded, appreciating his thoughtful gesture, and sat down to enjoy breakfast with Wontae. After some quality playtime with Wonna and tucking her back into her crib for a nap, Seungcheol returned to the dining room. By then, Wontae had retreated to his bedroom, engrossed in the toys his uncles had gifted him.

“Wontae loves Mingyu’s gift,” Seungcheol said with a chuckle, recalling how his son had immediately fallen in love with the plush corgi toy Mingyu had brought him. It was amusing how Wontae adored anything Mingyu gave, no matter what it was.

You laughed as you finished your meal. “Of course he does. He’s your son, after all. It makes sense he’d have a special bond with Mingyu.”

Seungcheol joined in your laughter, the sound warm and genuine. “Thanks, love,” he said when you placed a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of him.

“Is your head still dizzy?” you asked, sitting beside him to keep him company while he ate.

He sighed, a touch of guilt crossing his features. “Not as much, but I really need to cut down on my drinking.” A rueful smile followed. “I still don’t get how you don’t drink at all—not even a beer.”

You smiled, amused by his amazement. “The last time I drank was before I got pregnant with Wontae,” you reminded him. Seungcheol’s eyes widened as the memory came rushing back—it had been at Joshua’s birthday party.

“Right!” he said, letting out a soft chuckle at the recollection.

Before he could say more, Wontae’s voice rang out, echoing through the hallway. “Eomma! Come here!” He came running into the dining room, eyes sparkling with excitement as he tugged at your hand, eager for you to join him in his room.

“How about we stay here and keep Appa company while he finishes eating?” you suggested gently, but Wontae shook his head, determination written all over his little face.

“No! I want to show you my drawing!” he insisted, practically bouncing on his feet. “Uncle Chan gave me crayons, and there are so many colors! Even five different blues!”

You exchanged a knowing look with Seungcheol, your heart swelling at Wontae’s joy. “Alright, let’s see your masterpiece,” you said, getting up and giving Seungcheol a reassuring smile before following your son.

Five minutes later, you returned to the dining room, barely suppressing your laughter. Seungcheol had just finished eating and looked up, curiosity piqued by your expression.

“You should see what he’s done in there,” you said, eyes twinkling with amusement.

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What did he do this time?”

“You need to see it for yourself,” you urged, playfully nudging him in the direction of Wontae’s room. “I’ll take care of the dishes.”

With a grin, Seungcheol pushed back his chair, eager to see what kind of adventure awaited him in his son’s room.

Seungcheol opened Wontae's room and was greeted by the sight of his son enthusiastically coloring in his new book, using the crayons Chan had gifted him. The vibrant hues danced across the pages, a mix of scribbles and childlike shapes. Wontae’s eyes lit up when he noticed his father standing at the door. He bounded over, grabbing Seungcheol’s hand and pulling him toward his little art corner.

“Look, Appa! I drew a rock!” Wontae exclaimed, pride beaming from his small face.

Seungcheol’s eyes followed Wontae’s pointing finger until they landed on the wall. Oh my god. There, on the freshly painted surface, was a child’s drawing—a colorful depiction of what was presumably a rock, sketched in bold crayon strokes.

He froze, processing the situation. So this was why you had insisted he see it for himself. He could practically hear the smile in your voice when you said it.

“You drew on the wall?” he asked, keeping his voice as steady as possible.

Wontae nodded innocently. “But Eomma said it’s better to draw on the coloring book, so now I draw here. But sometimes it gets boring, Appa!”

Seungcheol felt a wave of relief wash over him. So you caught him and told him to stop. Thank god.

He closed his eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to quell the frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Remember, Seungcheol, they don’t know better. They don’t understand how much work it is to paint a wall.

“Yes, your eomma is right. Drawing on your coloring book is best.” He sat down on the floor beside Wontae, the urge to scold replaced by the desire to guide. “Show me more of your drawings here.”

Wontae beamed at the invitation, plopping down next to his father and eagerly flipping through the pages of his coloring book. Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile as he watched his son’s eyes sparkle with excitement, oblivious to any worry or consequence.

Every time Seungcheol’s eyes strayed to the drawing on the wall, a chuckle escaped his lips. It was ridiculous! He wanted to be mad, really mad, but he just couldn’t muster it. “You know you shouldn’t draw on the wall, right?” he asked his son, carefully suppressing the instinct to say, “I just painted that! Why did you draw on it?!” in a booming voice that would only frighten the boy. He took a deep breath, holding back the frustration that threatened to spill out.

Wontae looked up at his father’s face, his eyes wide with curiosity as he noticed something unusual. “Why is your face red, Appa?” he asked, putting down his crayon and reaching up with his tiny hands to cup Seungcheol’s flushed cheeks. Seungcheol let out another soft chuckle, his anger melting further.

“You know Appa loves this house, right?” Seungcheol said, his tone remaining gentle and warm.

Wontae nodded, his little head bobbing earnestly.

“No one in this house draws on the walls because Appa worked hard to keep them nice and clean,” Seungcheol explained, still smiling softly despite the chaos inside him.

Wontae bit his lip, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. “Are you mad at me for drawing on the wall?” His voice trembled as he spoke, and Seungcheol’s heart lurched. Panic surged through him—he was the one who felt like crying, not his son!

“I didn’t say I’m mad at you,” Seungcheol said quickly.

“But your face says it…” Wontae mumbled, the quiver in his voice growing more pronounced.

Oh no. Shit.

“Eommaaaa!” Wontae suddenly burst out, tears streaming down his cheeks as he ran toward you. Seungcheol’s eyes darted to the doorway where you were standing, suppressing a smile as you scooped up your tearful son into your arms.

“Why? What happened?” you asked Wontae in a whisper, stroking his back to soothe him.

“Your father wasn’t mad at you, was he?” you asked softly, glancing over at Seungcheol with a knowing smile. “Did he shout at you?” Wontae shook his head, hiccupping as he clung to your shoulder.

“No,” Wontae admitted, his sobs quieting as you continued to comfort him.

“He was just talking to you,” you reassured him, casting Seungcheol a gentle, supportive look.

Seungcheol groaned internally, a mix of confusion and self-reproach. He thought he’d nailed it—the gentle parenting that you both had worked so hard to practice. Yet here was his son, still able to sense the tension in his expression, and hurt by it despite the lack of yelling or scolding.

Seungcheol sighed, running a hand through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “We’re on this stage now,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You glanced at him, raising a brow. “What stage?”

“The threenager stage,” Seungcheol said, his tone carrying both exasperation and amusement. “I read about it somewhere. It’s when kids start acting like teenagers—rebelling, pushing boundaries, testing their parents’ patience. Wontae’s only three, but he already knows how to push all my buttons.”

You laughed softly, shifting Wontae in your arms as his sniffles subsided. “It’s not rebellion, Seungcheol. It’s curiosity. He’s learning, exploring his emotions, and figuring out how far he can go.”

“Exploring his emotions by drawing on my freshly painted wall?” Seungcheol deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips. He wasn’t truly upset anymore—not when Wontae was looking up at him with wide, apologetic eyes.

“Exactly,” you teased, setting Wontae back down on the floor. “It’s frustrating, but it’s normal. And you handled it really well, by the way.”

Seungcheol tilted his head, raising a skeptical brow. “I did?”

“Yes,” you said firmly, giving him an encouraging smile. “You didn’t yell or scare him. You explained things calmly. That’s the kind of parenting that sticks with them, Seungcheol. He’ll remember this.”

Seungcheol glanced at Wontae, who had returned to his coloring book but kept sneaking shy glances at his father. He felt a wave of warmth wash over him, mingled with pride and relief. I can do this, he thought. Even when it’s tough, I can do this.

“Okay, buddy,” Seungcheol said, crouching down to Wontae’s level. “Let’s make a deal. No more drawing on the walls, okay? If you want to draw something big, we’ll find some paper or maybe a special board just for you. How does that sound?”

Wontae’s face lit up at the idea. “A special board? Really?”

“Really,” Seungcheol promised, ruffling his son’s hair. “But only if you promise no more wall art.”

“I promise, Appa!” Wontae beamed, holding up his pinky. Seungcheol chuckled and locked his pinky with his son’s, sealing the deal.

You watched the exchange with a fond smile, stepping closer to place a hand on Seungcheol’s shoulder. “See? You’re doing great.”

Seungcheol exhaled deeply, his smile widening. “Thanks, love. I guess I just need to remember to breathe. And to hide all the crayons.”

You both laughed softly, and for a moment, the chaos felt a little more manageable.

*

"One… Two… Three…" Seungcheol’s voice was steady as he counted while Chan, drenched in sweat, gritted his teeth to finish his push-up set. His arms trembled, and his face was etched with exhaustion, but he pushed through, determined to complete the punishment.

The door to the practice room swung open, and the rest of the group filed in, their faces a mix of confusion and amusement as they took in the scene. Seungcheol stood towering over Chan, arms crossed, while the youngest member struggled through the exercise. It was a far cry from what anyone had expected when they read Seungcheol's early-morning text asking Chan to come to the practice room an hour ahead of schedule.

"What’s going on here?" Joshua asked, barely hiding his amusement as he watched Chan squirm on the floor.

"Ten!" Seungcheol finished his count, clapping his hands in exaggerated applause. He smirked as Chan collapsed onto the floor, utterly spent. "That’s ten sets done—one hundred push-ups. Congratulations, Chan. That’s what you get for giving my son those crayons."

Chan’s pout was instant. "It’s not fair! It’s your son who drew on the wall. Why am I the one getting punished?" His voice was full of indignation, though it lacked the energy to be truly effective.

Mingyu burst into laughter, doubling over as realization dawned. "Wait, wait—Wontae drew all over the wall with the crayons Chan gave him? That’s hilarious!" He clutched his sides, nearly toppling over from laughing so hard.

Jeonghan, leaning casually against the doorframe, nodded in mock agreement. "Honestly, it makes sense. Seungcheol’s a gentle appa with Wontae—there’s no way he’d punish his precious son for something like this." He shot Chan a teasing grin. "But you? Yeah, I’d do the same if I were Seungcheol."

Chan groaned dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. "This is so unfair!" he whined, his voice muffled. "I’m the innocent one here! Gentle appa is a fraud—he’s evil!"

Seungcheol couldn’t hold back his chuckle as he crouched down to look at Chan. "Gentle appa does exist," he said with a smirk, "but only for Wontae. You and your crayons? You’re a different story."

"See?" Jeonghan said, straightening up. "I told you. Seungcheol’s priorities are clear."

Chan sat up, still sulking. "Unfair. So unfair." He shot a glance at the others, hoping for sympathy, but all he got were amused grins and stifled laughter.

"Hey," Joshua added, chuckling softly, "at least now you know not to mess with Wontae’s creative genius—or his dad’s freshly painted walls."

Mingyu clapped Chan on the back, nearly knocking him over again. "Think of it as a lesson in self-sacrifice. You helped foster Wontae’s artistic side. That’s a win, right?"

Chan groaned louder, flopping onto the floor in defeat, while Seungcheol leaned against the wall with a triumphant grin. "Alright, everyone. Lesson’s over. Let’s get to practice before he starts crying for real."

"So unfair!"

[syoddeye]

consequence / needling

price x f!reader | 1.9k words series directory | ao3 tags: tattoos, feelings, social media, shitty exes a/n: good news and bad news. ☕

you’ve never been much of a dancer, but you find a rhythm all the same.

john divides time between work and leave. grouses about tying up loose ends and mountains of menial paperwork about said ends, but he’s with you more often than not. you think you’re handling his comings and goings well until he sits you down for a talk after informing you he’ll be gone for two and a half weeks.

at first, it feels like critique all over again, the kind that makes you shrink into yourself. your instinct is to freeze up, say little, agree with him, and promise to do better next time he’s away. but john doesn’t let you fold into yourself, and he doesn’t take easy answers either. he’s calm and direct and speaks with disarming clarity. for someone who can’t discuss what his job involves, he’s honest about its realities. there’s no judgment in his tone, just a measured precision that leaves you feeling exposed, then immediately comforted. for the first time, you’re not left twisting in the wind.

he wants you to make informed decisions. to minimize the surprises you’ll inevitably experience. no more gut reactions, no more panic.

i need to know you’ll be alright. with or without me.

and he isn’t simply referring to his deployments. he speaks about a future without him, should you choose to walk away. 

this isn’t for everyone.

john’s right, of course. you know in your bones but don’t want it to be true. instead, you let yourself believe in the possibility of things working out, following the moments that feel good and easy, however fleeting. winter helps—the light snow smoothing over the ugly edges of everything outside, making it easier to laze about with him. he spends more time at your flat than his own, though he won’t even hear of you merging households yet. you don’t press him. rushing things is what got you here. a deep bruise always prepared to remind you of its ache.

99+. terrifying. absurd.

the espresso machine hisses as you wipe spilled milk off the counter with the edge of your apron. the rectangular shape in your pocket taunts you. you haven’t looked at your phone since you clocked in, and the impulse grows harder to ignore with every flat white.

it’s stupid. it’s not like you drew anything groundbreaking—just a sheet of cats with coffee mugs modeled after old-school greeting cards. a cute warm-up, nothing serious. you wrote a corny caption, meowcchiato or catpuccino, posted it, and went to sleep. you considered it a modest success when you woke to a dozen comments and new followers. then, some big-name tattoo page shared it, and it ballooned.

your fingertips dip into the canvas only for a group order to pop up on the screen, signaling the start of the mid-day rush.

on break, you step out back. the cold air hits like a reset button, your breath visible in cloudy puffs. shivering, you stare at the tower of notifications on your lock screen and swipe.

your eyes saucer at four figures. a thousand and some change likes. hundreds of comments and shares. two hundred more followers. you scroll through the new names, quickly following a few artists and legit-looking shops back before you feel weird.

one account catches your eye despite a sea of requests in your messages. a local studio you’re familiar with.

>> hey, looks like we are neighbors. i like the cats. i don’t think i recognize your work. are you an apprentice somewhere?

rechecking the post, you flinch. you neglected to remove the geotag. shit. so much for total anonymity. you respond before you think too hard about it. embarrassment rolls off of you like the vapor from your breath.

> hi, no i’m not. this is just a hobby.

another chance to check your phone doesn’t arrive until you’re off, due to meet john.

>> really? if you’re at all interested, i’ve got a friend opening apps in a month or two. >> happy to chat if you want to drop by the shop.

it feels like a trap. something oddly shaped like hope makes you walk into it anyway with a reply.

~~~~

she’s in a rush, already glancing at the clock before she’s even out the door. her scarf is half-tied, her coat slipping off a shoulder as she reaches for her bag, but john can’t help himself. he leans in and kisses her cheek, then the line of her jaw, quick and light like a thief. she huffs a laugh but doesn’t pull away.

“you’re going to make me late.”

he kisses the corner of her mouth, the scar on her wrist when she tries to push him off, the warm skin beneath her ear. his hands crawl under her open coat and up her sides to reel in for another. he fixes her coat, fastens the buttons, and ties her scarf, all without letting her up for air. when she finally pulls the door open, winter funneling through the crack, he lets her go with a goodbye. she steps out mid-laugh, and he’s left standing, smiling to himself like a fool.

with nothing but time to kill, he makes himself useful. 

cece follows as he tidies. he knows exactly what his girl buys at the shop now, what brands, what alternatives. he parks outside her building and catches himself smiling, almost laughing, at how far this has come. how it started with that dent in the car he now leaves at her curb, the little heart she’d drawn on the note that came with it, an act to placate an angry stranger. now, she draws them on the back of his hand when they lie in.

later, he fixes supper, the cat weaving between his feet. greets her when she gets in with a thin slice of parmesan with honey balanced on his fingers. before she bites the morsel off its perch, she holds up her phone with a frown.

“what am i looking at?”

“he fucking painted it.”

~~~~

you find out through an old classmate, an acquaintance utterly ignorant of everything.

of course, ben painted the breakup, the prelude, and the aftermath, repurposing it all for artistic expression. you picture him pretending to suffer, draping his self-inflicted misery over their history like he’s the victim. the sheer audacity of it—painting your pain as if it’s a fucking concept—makes you want to scream. you don’t even know what’s worse: the paintings themselves, his self-congratulatory smugness in the captions, or the fact that you feel anything when you see them. the nerve to twist everything into his own narrative. it’s infuriating, his reduction of everything into a palette of pity. you know that temporarily unblocking him to spy helps nothing, but you can’t help yourself.

ben reinterpreted everything, made it about his genius and his torment the way he always did. and what bothers you most is that you’re still trying to find yourself in his work, even now.

at least hannah stays out of the literal picture for once. bad enough ben depicts her as some sort of savior. a heavy-handed and garish fucking pieta-like feature. 'ben wanted to paint it, you know…had it all mapped out. i convinced him not to.' the rat.

you stare at the hard line of john’s jaw as he scrolls, barely able to appreciate his culinary efforts because his predecessor ruined your appetite.

“my offer stands.”

“what?”

“i’m inclined to sort him out for you. i know a man or two who owe me.”

~~~~

she makes him promise he won’t sic someone on the ex, and he obliges. he makes her feel better, and she draws another lazy heart on his skin.

cheek pressed to his chest, she sighs.

“you gonna to say anything to him?” 

“what’s there to say?”

“i can think of some words to make a sailor blush.”

she flicks his nipple. “i already cursed him out and threw wine at him.”

“think he’s doin’ this because you told hannah to fuck off?”

rolling to her side, she toys with the hair creeping down his chest. “i think hannah and i are irrelevant. swap us out with anyone else, and he’d come to the same, self-centered conclusion.”

“for what it’s worth, i think his work is…trite.”

a tired laugh rattles out of her, and she pats his stomach. “oh, wow, someone check on the sailor. must be blushing.”

cheeky.

he sweeps over her in one fluid roll, pushing her to her back and sticking his mouth to her neck. he ignores her squeals and her half-hearted battering. she protests, something about him leaving a mark, and he lifts.

“put one on me?”

“a hickey?” her chest heaves from their game.

“no. a tattoo.”

the meticulousness john admires translates into everything, that much is clear, given his girl’s stringent cleaning and the amount of ppe. he didn’t think he’d be treated to some gutter punk special, but it feels as professional as an amateur can get. considering the other places he’s spent time with open wounds, her flat feels like a spa.

the amount of shit he’ll catch from the boys, however? that worries him.

they discuss the design again. it already took the better part of an hour to select one from her burgeoning collection—she refuses to call it a portfolio, despite all evidence—and placement took another fifteen. shaving, regrettably, took only a few minutes. odd and intimate. when she brushed the shorn hair off his left pec and swept it into a dust pan, he forced himself to breathe.

“are you sure about this? i’m not a professional. this is permanent.”

he readjusts and pats the naked patch of skin. “i’m aware.”

the bite of a needle is nothing. compared to the puckered scar from a knife wound in his right thigh—it’s a pleasant burn. helps that the hand guiding it is light, the pressure deliberate and contained. plus, her tongue wets the corner of her lips so often, and that, paired with the pinch of her brow? he’d endure worse. cute.

he will not embarrass her and say it out loud. he doesn’t say a word. she’s finally distracted from ben’s paintings.

but she speaks when she switches to color, dabbing excess ink onto a paper towel.

“alright?”

“never better.”

“because i’m not a mind reader. if you’re regretting this now, say the word.”

“i’m not regretting a thing. are you?” 

she doesn’t immediately look up from the needle, fiddling with it. when she does, she shakes her head. “not a thing. moving onto color now.”

she carefully drags red into the design, then gold. the firm, short strokes spark a brief flare of discomfort but let nothing slip. he can take it. the silence lingers, shorter this time, and again, she breaks it.

“remember that silly cats and coffee sheet?”

“yeah?”

“i’ve been, uh, chatting with a local artist about it. he wants to meet. talk shop, i guess.”

his attention snaps from his chest to her. sly thing, biting her cheek to keep her expression as flat as possible. “go on.”

she meets his eye for a second, pulling her hand back to swap to green. “he wants me to bring my collection, if you can believe it.”

that ugly, possessive monster in his head cocks an ear. focuses on the wrong detail. he wrestles it into the thick mud of his thoughts and resurfaces with—”sounds like he thinks you have a knack for it. we have that in common.” good show.

“he thinks i might be good enough to try for an apprenticeship.”

this time, she holds his gaze. uncertainty writ large on her face. seeking.

“is that something you want?”

“yeah,” her lip twitches. a flash of something crosses her face. a wince? “yeah, it is.”

[rafesbabygirlx]

Time Alone - Drew x GF!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: you and Drew have crazy work schedules. Finally having time off work you go and spend it with him in South Carolina when he films. Even being there with him it’s hard to find time alone, until it isn’t.

A/N: wrote this on my phone so my theme is not present here. Just too good not to post. Also not really proofread since it was done on my phone and I hate google docs on my phone.

Warnings: SMUT - car sex, oral, riding

Inspired by @rafescokewhore anons finding his Apple Music playlists. Been thinking about this for a while. 🤭

You and Drew drive home from set, the cool evening air filling the car as the hum of the engine fades into the background. You’re visiting him for a couple of weeks while he’s filming, but this is the first real alone time you’ve had since you arrived. He’s been either on set or surrounded by the cast at the apartments, and by the time you both make it to bed, you’re usually too tired to even talk.

The car ride is mostly silent, the two of you holding hands as one of his playlists plays in the background. There’s a comfortable intimacy in the quiet, a kind of connection that doesn’t need words.

When he pulls into his spot in the dark parking lot, the air between you shifts. He turns off the car, the music still playing, and looks at you with an expression that sends a flutter through your stomach.

“Pull down your shorts,” he says, his tone casual but firm.

You blink at him, startled. “Huh?”

Before you can fully process what’s happening, he’s already reaching over, his fingers deftly working at the button of your shorts. His determined expression makes you burst into giggles, but the sound catches in your throat as he tugs your shorts and underwear down in one swift motion, tossing them into the back seat.

Your body shifts instinctively, pressing your back against the passenger-side door as Drew adjusts himself. He kneels in the driver’s seat, gently lifting one of your legs to drape over the backrest and he pulls you up so your ass is on the center console.

His movements are unhurried but purposeful. His lips brush your inner thigh, trailing heat in their wake before his mouth descends. The first flick of his tongue against your clit sends a jolt through you, a loud moan escaping your lips.

Without breaking rhythm, his free hand reaches for the volume knob, turning up the music to drown out your sounds, just in case anyone happens to pass by. “Those sounds are just for me.” He looks up at you eyes full of lust.

He’s relentless, his tongue and fingers working together as if he’s savoring every reaction he draws from you. His mouth moves with a feverish intensity, exploring every inch of you as your body arches against the door, lost in the moment.

Your moans grow louder as Drew’s movements intensify. His tongue circles your entrance before trailing back to your clit, sending waves of heat through your body. His fingers slide inside you with an almost teasing slowness, curling just right to make you gasp. You can’t help but thread your fingers into his scalp, gripping tightly, nails digging to his head as his mouth continues its work.

“Drew,” you whisper, your voice shaky, barely audible over the music.

He glances up at you, his eyes dark with focus, but he doesn’t stop. If anything, the look in your eyes seems to spur him on, his movements becoming more deliberate, more consuming.

The windows are fogged now, the small car feeling like its own secret world. The outside doesn’t matter—just Drew, the music, and the intoxicating pull of the moment.

Your chest rises and falls quickly, sending out shallow gasps as Drew’s tongue works hard against you. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking gently before flicking his tongue in maddening circles. His fingers curl inside you, pressing against that perfect spot that makes your back arch and your moans uncontrollable.

Your hips move instinctively against him, chasing the building pressure. He adjusts slightly, his other hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as his tongue moves with maddening precision. The pleasure swells, consuming you until all you can do is hold onto him, gasping his name as your body trembles.

“Fuck, Drew,” you whimper, your fingers r moving around his head as your hips continue to buck against his mouth.

He lets out a low growl of approval, the vibrations sending another jolt of pleasure through you. His grip on your thigh tightens, holding you in place as he devours you like he’s starving.

“You taste so fucking good,” he murmurs against you, his voice muffled but rough with hunger. He dips his tongue inside you, his nose brushing against your clit, and the sensation makes you cry out.

The car is sweltering now, the heat inside making you forget it’s winter, but neither of you care. The world outside feels miles away—right now, it’s just you, Drew, and the overwhelming heat pooling in your core.

He pulls back slightly, his lips glistening, and looks up at you with that wicked smirk you know too well. “You’re gonna come for me, aren’t you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to form words as he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them just right. His mouth finds your clit again, sucking hard, and your whole body tenses as the pressure inside you builds to a breaking point.

“Come on, baby,” he urges, his voice dark and commanding. “I want to feel you fall apart on my tongue.”

The sound of his voice, the filthy promise in his words, sends you over the edge. Your body shakes as the orgasm crashes through you, your cries spilling out uncontrollably. Drew doesn’t let up, his mouth and fingers working you through every wave of pleasure until you’re left trembling, completely spent.

He finally pulls back, his lips slick and swollen, and sits back in the driver’s seat, his chest rising and falling as he watches you. “God, you’re fucking beautiful when you come,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

You’re still catching your breath, your body slumped against the door, when you notice the bulge in his pants. He follows your gaze, smirking as he adjusts himself.

“You think I’m just letting it end there?” he asks, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down just enough to free himself.

Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing back through your body as he strokes himself slowly, his gaze locked on you.

“Come here,” he commands, his voice low and dripping with need.

You crawl over the center console, straddling him as his hands find your hips, guiding you down onto him. The stretch is perfect, and you let out a soft moan as he fills you completely.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping you tightly. “Ride me, baby.”

You move slowly at first, your bodies pressed together in the cramped space of the car. His mouth finds yours, the kiss hot and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip. His hands guide your hips, urging you to go faster, harder, until the sound of skin against skin fills the car, mixing with your moans and the bass of the music still playing in the background.

Every thrust hits deep, and you’re both lost in the heat of it, your bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. The car rocks slightly with your movements, the world outside completely forgotten as you chase another high together.

“Fuck,” he groans against your neck, his breath hot on your skin. “You’re so tight, so fucking perfect.”

His words send you spiraling closer to the edge again, and as his hand slips between your bodies to rub your clit, it’s all too much. Your second orgasm hits you even harder than the first, your body clenching around him as he thrusts up into you, his own release following soon after.

You collapse against his chest, both of you panting and spent, the air in the car thick with heat and filled with the scent of sex. His fingers trail lazily along your spine as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. He reaches over and turns down his music that was just blasting.

“Now that,” he murmurs, his voice still breathless, “is how you make the most of alone time.”

You laugh weakly, shaking your head as you pull back to look at him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it,” he replies, his grin smug and entirely unapologetic.

[existential-crisis-of-the-mind]

Small Talk (Jason Todd x Reader, Pt 2 of 3)

(Pt 1)

Premise: Jason worries that you're just putting up with him out of a misguided sense of pity.

Jason seems about ready to dip into fight or flight mode. Though you’d be surprised if flight mode even exists in his dictionary, perhaps it only applies to the dangers of expressing emotions rather than actual physical threats.

“Okay…” you begin slowly, mulling over your words so as to not spook him off, “Well to start off. No, I don’t pity you”.

He only frowns at that, crossing his arms around his torso tighter in response. Alright, can’t say you were all too surprised by that. Trust doesn’t seem to come naturally to the guy.

You take a breath before looking him in the eye, “Jason, I like you. I like spending time with you. I like what we have… is that so hard to believe?”

Jason averts his gaze in response, seemingly unable to face you. “I-I don’t know” he grumbles, a frustrated exhale escaping his lips.

“I don’t know what you see in me. I guess I'd rather tear down whatever halo effect you’ve got going on right now, rather than waiting for you to realise what you're getting yourself into, and walking out at a later point”. At least the former offers him some false sense of control, he gets to strip down the facade and push you away on his terms.

“So you think I’m going to just up and leave the day I see the ‘real’ you?” you have to bite back a scoff at his reasoning, but insecurities can take any form, and the fear of abandonment always seems to be the front runner in his case.

You shake your head as you counter him, “Jason respectfully, there was no point at which I thought you were putting up a prince charming act, you’ve never really made much effort to hide your broodiness”.

In fact, you've always appreciated how he never put up a front, his frank personality being one of the first traits that drew you in.

He bristles at your comment, but you can see some of the tension leaving his body as he uncrosses his arms.

“Hey! I can turn up the charm when I want to”.

You raise an eyebrow in response, that’s a shoddy defense at best.

You decide against bringing up the time he set the fire alarm off attempting to cook spaghetti for the two of you, or that other time he picked up flowers for you only to get into a scuffle on the way home, leaving you with five broken stems (but 3 petals stubbornly clung on, so they still counted as flowers according to him). No, now’s not the time to bruise his ego.

You sigh, deciding to try a more direct approach instead.

“What’s this really about Jason? Have I said or done something to make you feel this way?”

The genuine question coupled with the gentle tone of your voice further disarms him. He huffs a breath as he looks away.

“No…I just- I don’t know why you put up with me at times”.

You could feel the weight of his words even though they were spoken under his breath. Put up with what exactly? His sudden disappearances? His injuries? The bouts of sour moods? He doesn’t even know. But he can only imagine the combination to be unpleasant.

You reach for his hand, which is currently bunched up into a fist by his side before continuing “Jason… I love what we have. I mean, I know you’ve got your bad days, but you’ve never taken them out on me...”

You take a deep breath feeling somewhat hesitant about your next words, but knowing they need to be said.

“Look, I don’t know much about your past, and frankly I don’t need to, I enjoy what we have right now… But it seems like you’ve been let down plenty of times before, and those fears are being projected onto us".

He stiffens, confronted with the truth he barely lets himself think about. Instead of facing it head on, he chooses to deflect.

“That doesn’t seem like enough of a reason for you to stick around”

He may be trying to sidetrack the conversation, but you’re done beating around the bush. You need him to know he’s enough, more than enough. That you’re happy with him and not just putting up with him for the sake of it.

“Does it bother you? That I like you just the way you are?” 

He hunches over at your words, choosing to face the muted television screen instead of you.

“Not bother… I guess it’s a bit hard to believe. I mean I know I’m quite the looker and have a wicked sense of humour” he says dryly, though you don’t miss his attempt at biting back a snicker, “But man do I come with a lot of baggage” he concludes with a self depreciating groan.

You shake your head as you scoot closer to him on the couch, “Will you give yourself some grace for once? It doesn't seem like you were dealt the best hand in life” you retort, feeling defensive on his behalf.

“You’re trying to make sense of it all, you’re trying to do what’s right. Shouldn't that count for something? Don’t discount your efforts” 

He shakes his head as he turns to face you, conflict colouring his features.

“But isn’t it exhausting to keep up with (Name)? I can’t exactly offer stability- Hell, I can’t even say trouble finds me, I actively go seek it... I mean, I don’t even know what my future’s gonna look like, let alone what our future will look like”. 

Why stay when you can go seek out something more secure, more certain?

That question remained unsaid. Maybe he was being a coward, but part of him didn’t want to probe for answers he was not ready to hear.

“Jason, I’m not going give up what we have now because of a pessimistic ‘what if’ future that may never come to be… You make me happy. You’re so good to me. I wish you could see that”.

Feelings of sadness and frustration settle within you at his incessant attempts to downplay himself. Downplay what he means to you.

You spend a moment wracking your brain, trying to conjure up the magic words that will get through to him. Considering which memories you can point to as evidence for your case, what traits of his you can highlight in your defence. But so many moments flit through your mind, warm memories playing over like a cinema reel, you don’t even know which to choose from. 

That itself is enough proof that’s there’s plenty of reason to stay right here, by his side.

Now it was just a matter of getting him to see the same.

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

Initially thought of writing this in 2 parts but 1am big brain energy has given me enough ideas for a pt 3.

[kooksvspogues]

Happy 1st Birthday Lilian!! 🥳

Part 4 -

Authors note: Let me know if y’all are enjoying the slow burn with this story or have any suggestions! Would love some more input from y’all ❤️❤️❤️

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

~~~~~ Drew’s POV ~~~~~

I know I told her I didn’t want anything more than to just be friends, but how could I not want more. The connection we had the night at the wedding was something I’ve never experienced before. She is something I’ve never experienced before. I thought I could handle being around her and keeping our deal, and I think I could’ve if Austin never showed this much interest in her. The way he talked about her when she was walking into the pool with my niece; “look at the ass on that girl, holy shit, and those boobs, jaaackpooot” he grinned putting up both his fist waiting for Chase and I to bump his, to which I just gave him a stern stare while Chase nonchalantly bumped his fist, trying to send a text.

“You know girls aren’t just a piece of ass, right?” I stared at him

“Well yeah, but it makes it so much better when they have one, ya know why I’m talking about Drew” he winks at me

“That’s my sisters friend, don’t do anything stupid” I plead

“I won’t do anything she isn’t about” Austin tapped my shoulder before getting up and joining Mack and Maddie in the pool.

I couldn’t help the pit that was forming in my stomach or the rage and adrenaline I was feeling in my entire body. I watched as she smiled up at him, but not the same way she smiles at me. She kept trying to keep her distance with him no matter what he tried, and for that, I was grateful.

Austin snatching her up before anybody could say anything to be his partner for beer pong, now that hurt. Beer pong was how we met at the wedding. She stepped up to be my partner since my buddy Paul had stepped away and she ended up being the best partner I’ve ever had in beer pong, plus, she was nice to look at too.

She had done changed out of her bridesmaid dress and into a short light yellow dress and had ditched her heels. Her curled dark brown hair was falling around her shoulders, and for some weird reason, all I could think of was the Disney princess, Belle. When I found out her name was Maddie and put it together that she was my sister’s roommate in college, I couldn’t help but me intrigued. I had heard so many stories and felt like I knew her personally but this was the first time we have been in the same area at the same time.

We won every round of beer pong we did. We laughed and flirted with each other like it was the most normal thing we’ve ever done. When we finally got done playing, we went upstairs to where the balcony was. I had untucked and unbuttoned my shirt to where it was just hanging, leaving the undershirt revealed. I sat down, leaned against the paneling,before pulling her down to sit in between my legs and lean back against my chest. Opening the bottle of champagne we snatched on the way up. That was the most comfortable I had ever been. We sat there for hours just talking about everything, what we wanted out of life, where we wanted to be in 10 years, family, kids, kid name ideas, dream vacations, just anything that come up while we just sat there playing with each others hands and passing the bottle back and fourth with the other. At one point she turned sideways and put her legs over mine while one of her hand planted itself on the wood behind us causing her to face me.

“You really are not what I expected” she admitted

“I’m gonna need you to elaborate on that, love” I teased smiling

“Just that, I have seen pictures of you, but just didn’t really expect you to be this hot in person, plus the fact that you’re insanely amazing at conversation.” She admits, her face turning a light shade of red when she makes eye contact with me

“I could say the same thing about you” I smile before leaning in closer to her, looking back and forth from her eyes to her lips. I reached up and placed my hand on the side of her neck, my thumb against her jaw just as our lips met.

“You are so beautiful” I whisper to her, feeling her smile against my lips, as she pulls her legs back to her before turning completely and straddling me, reconnecting our lips immediately.

The kiss was so deep, tender, gentle, rough, everything you could ever want in a kiss. What felt like would never end got cut short the moment I started kissing down her neck. She tapped my chest making me pull back and look up at her.

“We shouldn’t be doing this, your Mack’s brother” she says starting to stand up

“Maddie..” I say grabbing her hand

“No, let’s just pretend it didn’t happen, okay? For Mack?” She begs and I just nod slightly, watching as she takes a deep breath before running back downstairs.

Now I’ve had to watch Austin’s hand on the small of her back, lifting her up, her almost naked body against his, his hand so close to her ass and his face so close to her chest, then for him to have the audacity to place his hand on her leg right next to me.

I couldn’t do it, I can’t watch this, I can’t let her get away this time. I just need to make sure she still feels something on her end towards me before I do anything else. Which is why my feet quickly sped upstairs to her once Mack came back outside, telling everyone I had to run to the bathroom.

But, yet again, she ran away. But she also didn’t deny still feeling anything. Just gonna take some time to break through that wall, and I’m willing to do whatever I got to do.

~~~~~ Maddie’s POV ~~~~~

I walk into the downstairs bathroom, closing and locking the door quietly. Fanning my eyes, trying to keep myself from crying, but I fail quickly at that, feeling a tear fall from both eyes. I place my hands on the counter and look at myself in the mirror.

“I got this, it’s just a week of being around him, I can make that, I’m here for Liliana and Mack, that’s it” I whisper to myself before looking down at the floor shaking my head. I wipe the few tears away, open the door, and head back outside when I see Drew coming down the stairs.

“Maddie” he says

“Drew” I say opening the back door slightly

“Wait” he says just as I open the door completely and walk out “or not” I hear him mumble before walking out behind me, keeping the door cracked just incase Liliana wakes up.

Everyone else was back in the pool so I went to the edge and just sat down putting my feet in the water. A few minutes later, Drew walks over with two bottles of beer, offering one to me.

“Truce?” He asks as I look up at him

“…truce” I say grabbing the bottle as he goes to sit down next to me.

“I’m sorry” he whispers as we watch the rest of the groups playing beer pong

“It’s okay, I get it, that night was great, neither one of us can deny that, but me and you in any way, just can’t happen” I whisper to him

“Can I ask why?” He asks looking over at me with curious eyes

“Me and Mack made a promise, both of us have brothers, we knew at some point we’d meet them, and we promised that family, especially brothers were off limits cause we never wanted to jeopardize our friendship in any way” I explain quietly as he nods biting his lip, looking down at her hands right next to each other.

“I get that.. but is that real—“ He starts but I cut him off when I see Austin swimming over to us grabbing my legs, rubbing his thumb against them

“Hey gorgeous” he smiles up at me as I smile down at him slightly, “want to come be my partner again?” He asks me

“Nah, I’m good right here, I’ve done dried off” I say

“Oh okay, well if you change your mind, I’ll be waiting for you” he winked before getting called back over for his turn.

“Is that really gonna be a thing?” Drew asks looking over at me

“I don’t know… he’s sweet.. we’ll see” I confess

“Please don’t jump into something with him” he pleads

“I’ll be okay” I smile over at him

“I know, but still..” he says locking eyes with me as we just stare at each other.

“Why aren’t you looking away?” He asks me smirking

“Oh shut up” I say smiling, pushing him away making him laugh

“You can’t do that” he says in a warning tone

“Do what?” I ask furrowing my eyebrows

“Look at me like that” he states

“Like what?” I curiously ask

“Like you want me to just lean over and kiss you like we did their wedding night, like we’re the only two people that are here” he quietly explains keeping his eyes locked with mine

“Are you ever gonna give that up?” I tease him knocking my shoulder into his

“Not a chance sweetheart” he winks at me making me shake my head.

“You’re a headache” I laugh

“Just a man trying to be your headache, my bad” he throws his arms up laughing making me roll my eyes playfully

I catch Mack and Garrett in the corner of my eye looking over at us before whispering something to each other. I clear my throat and jerk the huge smile off my face looking over at the group of boys playing beer pong.

Me and Mack lock eyes and she has her arms crossed, an eyebrow raised, with a slight smirk on her face. I raise my eyebrows at her in curiosity and she just shakes her head, still smirking before looking away from me.

Great…

Chase and Austin end up leaving not too long after they got done with playing beer pong. Of course, Austin couldn’t leave without planting a kiss on my cheek. Which made me feel more weird than anything.

“Mack, can I stay here, I’m too drunk to drive home” Logan says a lot louder then needed as he wrapped his around around me planting his chin on the top of my head

“Yeah, that’s fine, Drew you staying here too?” Mack’s asked

“Yeah, might as well” he says

“Okay, y’all can take the other guest bedroom till mom gets here if you want or one can stay on the couch and the other in the bed, y’all choose.” Mack tells them, “you know where everything is, me and Garrett are going to bed” she said giving all of us a hug, “do you need anything before I go to bed?” She asks me when we she pulls away

“Oh no, I’m good, thank you though” I smile at her as she gives me a look that I can’t decipher before walking upstairs.

“Mads, can I just sleep with you, I want cuddles” Logan begs

“Why don’t you go cuddle with your brother” I tease

“That’s weird” he said making me and Drew laugh

“Here, let’s get you to bed” Drew says taking Logan’s arms off me before walking him to the guest room. I go to the fridge and grab a bottle of water before heading for the stairs.

“Hey, goodnight” Drew says at the door. I turn to face him, giving him a smile

“Goodnight Starkey” I say before going up the stairs and into my room.

I decide to go ahead and get a quick shower, wash off all of the stress from today. When I get out, I throw on a big shirt and crawl into bed. Leaning over to turn the lamp off is when I notice a note sitting on the nightstand. I grab it off the table to read it,

Maddie,

I know you say that we can’t happen and all I know as of right now is because of Mack. But, at any point you’re ready to give it a shot, I’ll be waiting, cause I’m not giving up on you. There’s nothing in me that will allow me to. Just give in to what we both know you’re feeling.

Text me - ###-###-####,

Drew

I can’t help but smile but also know deep down I can’t give in completely. Not yet. But I do decide to go ahead and add his number to my contacts, deciding to go ahead and text him so he has my number too, just incase something ever happens and he needs it.

“Goodnight again Starkey” I text him and roll over to get comfortable.

“Goodnight beautiful, glad to finally have your number” he texts me back.

I shake my head, deciding to leave it at that for right now, closing my eyes and letting the alcohol take over and hopefully giving me a good nights rest.

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

Tag list: @percysley @dilfs-4life

[muppeddie]

Blame it on my DNA

808 coda; Eddie tells Chris about his plan to move to El Paso. It does not go well. Buck is forced into the narrative about it. Ao3

“Hey, Bud. You got a minute?” 

“Uh-uh.” 

Chris’ room is dark. He keeps the curtains drawn tight and the blinds down most of the time. It’s three in the afternoon in El Paso, Eddie knows there should be sun streaming through, bathing the beddings and showing him what his son has up on his walls, if he left his shoes all over the place, if the bed is made.

It must be, though. His mother always used to make them during breakfast.She would serve them and disappear, lighting fast as she drew up covers and fixed pillows before they could be done. 

Eddie used to go back to his room before leaving for school and find the bed made, like magic. 

He’s sure Helena does Chris’ bed, too. Must take her time with it since she doesn’t have three kids at once anymore, too.

“How was the chess tournament?” he asks, coward.

Chris rolls his eyes, one hand picking at the lint on his pants. “It was fine. I got third place.”

A smile breaks out on Eddie’s face. Lips turning up and up, hurting his cheek. He’s so proud. “No way! That’s amazing, Chris.”

“It’s third place, Dad,” he says, deadpanned. Something in Eddie breaks. “Nothing to write home about.”

He settles more firmly against the chair. This time, he’s chosen to take the call from the kitchen. Barren, most of his utensils are already in boxes to be shipped out to some storage room until he can make peace with either selling or taking them with him when he moves.

“Hey. Everything you do is something to write home about. You got some kinda trophy I can bust about at the station?”

Bashful, Chris bends out of frame. The room is so dark; how Eddie worries. He comes up after shuffling around somewhere with a framed letter of participation, declaring him third best in the school chess championship. There is a little brown ribbon printed on the picture. 

“Just this,” Chris says, shy and low. It comes out so thin, Eddie barely hears.

“That’s great. I’m really proud of you, Bud. I mean it,” he says, because Eddie thinks he should hear it.

“Grandpa says we can practice more and I can try the tournament week after next, just not in school. There is like this social center thing… it’s for charity or something.” It’s been months since he heard his kid say so many words at once. Eddie feels choked up about it, just a little. 

He clears his throat before he speaks again. In for a penny. “What if… what if I was there, to cheer on you? Would you like that?”

Chris sits straight in his chair, his head is lopsided but his eyes shine behind his glasses - bright, bright, bright blue. “I guess.” He takes the longest pause in Eddie’s life. “It would be cool.”

“Good.” It propels him forward, an asteroid ready to crash and burn. “Because I’m coming to El Paso in a few weeks.”

“Like, for holiday? Buck didn’t say you have time off.”

“No, no. Not for holiday, uhm…” He wets his lips, swallows around the nerves that have balled in his throat, picks at the linen in his gym shorts, a mirror of Chris. “For… ever? I’m- I’m moving back to Texas, Chris. Saw a new house and everything. We can go check it out together, if you want.”

Chris pales, the blue of the screen casts him in a weirdly off-putting light.

“Not. Not that I’m gonna make you come live with me. I mean, you can do whatever you want, but if you do want to live with your grandparents, I want to be there. For you. I’m not missing the big moments anymore.” 

Eddie gets to the end of his little speech, Chris’ chest is heaving. He reaches for the tablet like it will allow him to reach through the screen and touch, comfort, reassure.

This is exactly why he needs to go back to Texas. 

“What… what about the house? You can’t just sell it.”

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but Chris is on a spiral. He looks somewhere to the left of the screen, barely catching his breath. “What about your job? Does Captain Nash know? Did you tell Buck?”

Nodding, Eddie replies, his voice a bit higher, a bit firmer, “I did. It’s all taken care of, you don’t need to worry about it, that’s my job.”

“You never do things for me. Just for you,” Chris spats, vitriol and anger right on the center of the keyboard. “You’re always thinking about yourself first.”

And that - that can’t be further from the truth. He needs to know, Eddie needs to tell him. And why is the screen suddenly so blurry? Why is his chest aching? Did someone shoot him again? Right there, in his kitchen?

“That’s not true Christopher. You know that’s not true. I’m…”

Chris interrupts him. “First you leave Mom behind, then you send me away, and now I don’t get to come back home?” He’s yelling now, full-body spasms, his arms shaking. That much stress cannot be good for him. “You promised. You promised.”

“Chris.”

“I don’t wanna talk to you anymore.” The connection shuts. There is only a black screen and the image of Eddie’s red eyes and snotty face. 

He clicks to the right, just below Christopher’s name on his contact history. The tablet rings for about three seconds before the call gets picked up and Buck’s face lights up the screen. He’s at home, on his couch, relaxed in the gray hoodie he keeps for nothing-days. 

If he notices how rattled Eddie is, he doesn’t show it. 

“Hey, what’s up?” 

“I think I screwed up, Buck.”

The expression on his best friend’s face changes, he gets that frown he has when they talk about something big, shifting forward in his seat. “Tell me about it.”

[diamondkat]

Regarding Alastor being redeemed, I have been seeing some posts regarding how it can happen that trigger an instant ick reaction from me. I have taken time to think about why I keep having such a strongly negative reaction to it. The first thing I took into consideration is that I really do not want my current favourite bad boy to become good. I am first and foremost a villain fan and his becoming good has a high chance of ruining the character for me. This means that there is a chance that I would dislike any theory that ends with Alastor redeemed. A lot of time you see people making arguments for why a ship or character should not be liked when the real reason is they personally don't like it and the reasons are merely support. I try to make sure I am aware of my personal bias.

Regardless of my personal bias, I have decided that there is one particular theory regarding how Alastor can be redeemed that I hate from the bottom of my heart. It is the theory where Alastor after being humiliated, degraded and losing everything including his pride has no choice but to accept Charlie's care and change for the better. Sometimes it involves betraying the hotel first, but generally involves him being unable to deal with the challenges that he faces. I am sure how this works in the minds of those who like this theory makes perfect sense. He can no longer rely on himself, he sees that he isn't capable of anything and now has no choice but to become what Charle wants him to be. I hate it so much. I have kept turning it over in my mind and I think I have figured out all the reasons why separate from my bias.

First, suffering doesn't make people better. It just doesn't. The theory seems to require enough suffering to rewrite Alastor's personality and make him Charlie's puppet. It also reminds me of William Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew. The story of how the proud woman was broken down to make her obedient. She might be "better" but it also felt to me like she died and became a puppet. He would be "redeemed" but that wouldn't be Alastor. It would just be something that looks like him. I just feel like fans of Alastor who like this theory don't realise that he would lose everything that pulled them to him in the first place if this happened. Some could not deal with him being less energetic in the main show than the pilot due to him being bored. How would they deal with what would essentially be a hollow creature wearing his face trying to become good because there is nothing left in him?

Second, with a proud character you can't brute force them into letting people in. Part of the idea of the theory is that after he is humiliated and suffers in front of them, he will drop his smile and be forced to let others in. That doesn't make sense to me. We have already seen in S1E8, how Alastor deals with things not going his way. He holds onto what little control he has by refusing to drop his smile and holding onto his pride while going through a breakdown. The best way to get someone like Alastor as far as I am concerned is to deal with him the same way you would deal with a wild animal. Slowly lower their guard. I think Charlie is already doing that whether Alastor knows it or not. Besides, pride is an important part of the character. Pride is part of what drew me to the character in the first place. The kind of pride that makes a person think it is okay to say, "If I wanted to hurt anyone here I would have done so already" in front of the Princess of Hell, is part of what drew me to Alastor. If he lost it, the character would likely immediately lose all appeal to me. So, there is some personal bias there.

It would make sense to me if the theory was more about Alastor learning that he can rely on others and doesn't have to depend solely on himself which leads to him opening up and letting others in. However, the theory leans very heavily into suffering as a way to make him a better person and a complete erasure of everything that makes up the character through suffering to make him into someone who wants and is worthy of redemption. That's fine for fanfiction but I hope it never becomes canon.

[magiclwritings]

His feet hit the floor at the sound of the crash but the prince of Adros did not step one more toe further than that. What Quin was telling him, explaining and maybe talking out with himself in a way could not be interrupted. It was a rare moment when he was so candid and while this truly was not a truth Cesare wanted to hear, he needed to. Because hearing it all from Beau was one thing but to see the ramifications of it hit so wholly on Quin, there was no other proof he'd ever needed than his word but any doubt or question that had been brought up about the man before him was dashed. Because as he'd explained pieces and parts started to fall into place for the prince. Even his last visit to the castle, there was suggestion that Quintus was unwell but no one had ever clarified what sort of unwell. Just that he had always been a constant state of it. Even Max had said it a time or two.

The bitter taste of iron snapped him out of the momentum of Quin's confession and he'd realized he'd been biting down on his lip nearly the entire time. It wasn't any wonder, being that still while being that sort of information was terrible to stomach. And then he'd instantly felt ashamed for feeling as though he had a worse time than the man explaining his truth. The ache in his chest started to grow and grow. Seeing him so bare, so raw was never something Cesare thought he'd see in all his life. Quintus had always been a pillar of sly, cunning that he found to be something of a wonder and a pleasure. It was why after only a little while knowing him that the prince knew he'd one day ask for his hand. Even Max had known for years that was going to be the way of it. Cesare ate out of his hands and would have done anything but something struck him in a way he hadn't expected. Not you. And it had occurred to him then that Quin had expected him to save him. To see him then. The contents of his stomach started to gurgle at the thought he really took a moment to himself for that. Because maybe he had known all along. Maybe there had been tells and he'd ignored them because the rest of their court had.

Cesare swallowed hard and quietly moved around from where he'd stood. Quin's words were processed as they came. And he knew from that moment on that there would always be two halves to Quin. There would be a Quin that was light and bright, one that enjoyed sparring with his brother for fun and telling Cesare and Xander ridiculous plots to get them going for an afternoon of whatever he'd had planned. The prince drew in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Because the other part of Quin would always exist elsewhere. And that's what he would call it. For those dirty, grimy things that Quin was certain would remain for him. And Cesare could love him in both. He knew he could because hadn't he been already? Quin said he hadn't noticed but wasn't he always with Quin whenever it was possible? Excusing his guards in favor of his own protection when he was near?

He was careful to not step on the food or meade on the floor as he made his way closer. The fur on Quin's back heaved and he didn't stutter, Cesare laid a firm hand upon him and brought his other around his front to clutch him to his own body. His face pressed into the mess of Quin's hair and he hugged him so tightly. And they stayed like that for quite a few moments before anything was said. Quin had to know that just because he knew about what had happened with his uncle, it hadn't changed things. It wouldn't.

"I owe you nothing." He said plainly, planting a soft kiss to soft spot just under the other's ear as he'd shifted and moved Quin to look at him. This was the first time he'd ever truly seen fear in this man's face and it did something to the prince that was indescribable. And in that moment he'd known, by whatever means necessary, he'd bring that man to his knees. "Just as you owe me nothing." Damn him for taking something so precious away from him. For ruining his outlook on anything he'd ever have in his life. Cesare gently cupped Quin's face and his thumbs moved so slowly to wipe the bit of moisture from his cheeks. "But I cannot be whole if you are not with me, Quintus." He tried to smile but it felt more watery than anything else. His eyes fell between them for a moment and a few tears managed to squeeze their way out. He hadn't expected to feel this as deeply as he had but he should have anticipated it, knowing Quin, it was always something unexpected.

"I've waited longer than I would have liked to when it comes to asking you." He paused, swallowing hard and he looked back up at him, eyes still bright with a few unshed tears. "And I hadn't planned on tieing our engagement in with something like this but Quin." He drew in a deep breath shakily and sighed just the same. "I meant it. And I do mean it. Nothing can change my mind on this." His fingers scooped back to cup the back of his head and he felt himself starting to tremble inwardly from being so honest. "Only if you do not wish to marry me would I agree to that but this changes nothing." He thought a moment and found himself unable to stop from pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, Quintus. Not the things that were done to you. Though ... " He paused, finding himself a little flustered at it all. "Though that is a part of you and I will find ways to live with and love it too." As he pulled down to look at him again, he felt some of that unease starting to slide into the back of his mind. "If you do not wish Max to know then he doesn't need to." That wasn't his place to interject. Though he thought maybe Quin would tell him in his own time. "My loyalty is to Vivec and your brother as friends and allies but, to you, I am always loyal first no matter what."

Quin moved to the end of the bed, his feet touched the ground, and he held his head in his hands, pressing his fingers against his pounding temples. He had anticipated Beau telling Cesare, but he hadn’t thought Cesare could contain himself with the knowledge. Why had he held onto it so long? Quin had to poke and prod to get him to admit it. Was he just never going to say anything about it? If Cesare had known this entire time, then he knew when he told his father and Maximus he still planned to marry Quin. But how could he even want to marry him after knowing all this? There were missing parts of Quin, parts of himself that were taken from him. He was ruined. Quin laughed bitterly and desperately, his stomach heaving as his body went against his control of it. He moved to wrap his arms around his stomach, tears brimming as he laughed and laughed and laughed. “I don’t care about what happened between you and Beau in that room.” At one point, he had, but it paled in comparison to Cesare knowing the truth.

He wiped the wetness from his eyes and stood up from the bed. He dragged a fur blanket with him, covering his upper body. Quin leaned against the wall opposite Cesare’s bed, then dragged his gaze up from the floor to meet his. “It’s only fair you know the truth,” He said softly, tilting his head back until he hit the wall. “And yes, I imagine Beau wasn’t kind about it. When I was…” Quintus inhaled, closing his eyes for a moment, “When I outgrew my uncle’s taste, he found Beau to replace me so he could have a younger version of me. Though I suspect Beau was too malleable for his tastes. His favorite thing has always been the fight, and I was too young and weak ever to win.” 

“You know the worst part about it?” Quin kicked off of the wall, cutting the distance between them in half. He stopped at Cesare’s desk, tilting a hip against it. “I thought I could endure it while my father and Maximus were at war. I was alone in that castle with him, and I took it; I swallowed it down because I didn’t have any other choice. I was twelve years old when it first happened. No one was there to help me anyway, but then they came back with you along with them, and I thought, ‘thank gods this is it’. I wouldn’t have to suffer any longer.”

Quin sighed, shaking his head. He slashed his arm across the top of the desk, sending the pitcher of mead and the tray of food crashing to the floor. “I was a fucking fool to think that would make a difference. Having them back in the castle made it worse and made him more determined. I suffered at his hands for years, and no one noticed. I was a child coming to breakfast hungover and limping, and no one noticed. Not my father, not my brother, not you.” He gripped the edge of the desk until his fingers turned white, until they ached as he ached inside for years. “The only thing that stopped him was time, and when he no longer possessed the ability to hunt me in my bed chambers, he went after my parents and then my brother and I.” 

“Beau will never be free, Cesare,” Quin said softly. “Just like I will never be free. He will always hold the pieces he took from us. I know you think you can save us. I know you want to save us, but we will never recover what he took from us. Even if he is dead, there will still be days where having hands on me makes my skin crawl and itch. There will still be nights when I dream of his weight and breath on me, and I wake up sick. His hands have permanently tainted me, and it isn’t something that I come back from.” 

He pulled the blanket tighter around himself, wishing it would swallow him whole. “You deserve someone whole, and I know you won’t do it because you think you owe me something or because you pity me now that you know, but I don’t expect you to go through with marrying me. I wouldn’t if I were you, and to save your reputation with my brother, I will take the heat and call it off so you aren’t the bad guy. Just…” He sucked in a breath, feeling a knot in the center of his throat. “Please don’t tell Max what he did to me. It will kill him, and I can’t… I can’t,” Quin’s breath puffed out between the words, his chest heaving with movement. “I can’t have him know.”

[lostsyren]

this could be me like totally over analysing things as per usual but it’s so interesting in the scene with just rafe topper and ruthie where rafe talks down his relationship with sofia, where i feel like you can tell he’s almost begrudgingly hesitant before he says “just because we hook up doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend” and the way he processes it too before uttering those words where the way I interpreted it was as if he was preparing himself to flick the switch and convert facades to the persona ruthie and topper want him to be, exuding a careless laid back personality who looks down on pogues.

I feel like the mannerisms and tone of that scene was purposely acted by drew to implicate that he didn’t really mean what he said and stated it for the sake of saving face which is his own problem to fix, but idk what it is about it though about his reluctance to say that she’s his girlfriend publicly in front of Hollis or Ruthie and Topper I wanted to know what your opinion on it is because he clearly cares about her deeply, there’s so much proof of sofia being his emotional and spiritual confidant, almost as if she’s his moral compass, there’s a reliance there from both sides and he does bring her to places but I guess not enough to tell everyone their status because of her socioeconomic status? Is it just down to him still not getting over the whole pogue v kook thing? or is that Sofia is so sacred to him and he doesn’t want share that? I mean I know he eventually says it in episode 6 (I replayed that part an unhealthy amount of times🙂‍↕️) and the writers are lazy as hell so they probably just forgot about it so it probably isn’t even that deep but I’m just bored out of mind bc this show isn’t going to come back for at least a year🙃

I love your interpretation!! And there’s no such thing as an over analysis!! I totally agree. I love your ideas of it being like a switch he turns on, donning the facade of a kook who hates pogues, when in reality I don’t think he cares. Rafe is opportunistic, he hates pogues only when it’s in his interest (like in s1 where he would bully them for fun, blame them for his mistakes but was fine with Barry when no one else was around). It’s the same with Sofia– he doesn’t care that she’s a pogue, he only cares if she’s good to him (and there’s a whole other conversation to be had why he chose Sofia of all people in the first place– the country club bartender, but I’ll talk about that another day😭)

I’ve talked about this in other post, but I think when rafe and Sofia are alone, the markers of “kook” and “pogue” dissipate– they’ve carved out their own little bubble where Rafe isn’t a murderer, a failure, a mess and Sofia isn’t a poor bartender, an older sister responsible for her family.

When they leave that bubble, that’s when those markers return.

“I mean your girlfriend right?”

“Sofia? What about her?”

He acknowledges she’s his girlfriend, he views her as his girlfriend. But when Ruthie is disdainful, that’s when he changes his tune.

“Just cause we hookup doesn’t mean she’s my girlfriend”

He narrows his eyes, looking away from Ruthie, inhaling deeply, about to take a sip– he knows he’s being deceptive, he knows what he’s saying isn’t true.

Sofias reaction is interesting here because she doesn’t seem affronted– she seems disappointed and hurt. It’s like she knows he won’t claim her in front of his friends, like he didn’t claim her in front of Hollis.

“Wait has she moved in yet?”

Sofia perks up, interested. The territory of the future is something she’s unexplored with Rafe. She loves him, she wants to be with him, she wants a future with him. And she can finally find out if he wants the same. Because rafe exclusively lives in the present when he’s with her– that little bubble they created only existing in the now.

“I’m not living with a pogue– I have standards”

And that’s when she looks hurt and angry– her offence at that statement clear. Rafe has introduced the marker of “pogue” into their relationship. She thought he didn’t care, she thought he was different. (“You’re different, I like that”) but he’s not, she finally realises. Any prospect of a future with him crumbles, as she realises she will never live up to “the standards” he has.

Whereas when Rafe says this, he closes his eyes, looking almost drunk (which he probably is). This state of stupor indicates the fictitious nature of his words. The staging of the scene is interesting too– his back his to her so she can’t see his face.

Perhaps if she could, she’d see the facade, but the implication to sofia is he’s turned his back on her– in every sense of the phrase. And him being before Ruthie and Topper, on the other side of the table is like he is performing for them, staging his kook persona. I don’t know why he is clinging to that though, it’s clear she’s not just a hookup, (they’ve been together for nearly two years and they’re attached at the hip) so why is he still attempting to perform? Maybe he doesn’t want their relationship to be scrutinised– if he admits to commitment, then there’s something which exists that he could break. And he doesn’t want what he was with Sofia to break. He just wants to exist in their bubble, away from markers like “pogue” and “kook” and “boyfriend” and “girlfriend” which is why I think he proposed.

He wants to cement it– Rafe’s an all or nothing type of guy, so marriage before admitting she’s your girlfriend is so him. And there’s Sofia, struggling to keep up with his many faces.

Thank you lovely for sending in your thoughts!! Love seeing all your different opinions!! <3