#i wanted his hair to be longer and I was messing around

[writersblockiskillingme]

Russian Roulette | The Salesman

Pairing: The Salesman x fem!reader

Summary: After doing everything in your power to find the salesman who got you and Gi-hun into all this mess, he unexpectedly shows up in your motel room.

Warning/s: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2!!, angst, unspoken feelings (until now), guns, playing Russian Roulette, threatening, mocking, blood, character death, cursing (maybe, idk), tears, talk about the games, tension, reader gives off femme fatale energy, also reader has longer hair to fit into a braid but if you don't just ignore it please, possible grammar and spelling mistakes

Author's note: I just watched the first few episodes, and for a little while, I got out of the writers block. NO SPOILERS, PLEASE!

Rain was pouring down like crazy, wind blowing around as I drove my black car with full speed as I tried to get to the Pink Motel that Gi-hun and I co-owned as fast as I possibly could after today's events. Gun that was placed on the seat next to me was jumping slightly as I drow down the road every time I hit a bump or such. My left hand gripped the steering wheel til my knuckles turned pure white as my right hand gripped the phone to the same extent.

"I found bloodstains there!" I practically shouted into my phone as I came to a stop, the images of blood seeping down the trash bags and the knife thrown on the ground never really leaving my mind. "Gi-hun is still looking, I'm sure they didn't get far from that alley."

"What do we do, miss?"

"Check all the CCTV and dashcam footage you can collect from the area and keep asking around." I continued to practically shout for him to hear me over the rain on the street, my braid swinging over on my left shoulder as I got out of the car, running towards the entrance to the Pink Motel.

"I'll join you soon." And with that, I ended the call, quickly putting my phone in the left pocket of my jacket.

I roughly pulled loose threads of hair that fell on my eyes as I quickly took out the key. However, I came to a sudden stop. Something wasn't right. I found myself freezing as I slowly moved my head to look around. That's when I noticed. The sign of the Pink Motel was lit up.

Someone is here, and they want me to know that.

I stood there in the rain for a little while before I decided to take a deep breath before entering. I walked up all the way to the fourth floor before entering, the light going on as I did. I walked into my bedroom as quietly as I could. But even before I could prepare myself for what I was about to see, just as I walked to the end of the first corner, I saw him.

After three years of endlessly, tirelessly trying to find him, he was here. Right in front of me. He was standing in front of my wall, a shining black gun in his hand, looking at the calendar on which I crossed the dates with red marker every single day for three years. Next to in was a map of the underground, every single route mapped out, drawn on, and my handwriting shone on it to.

"It's been a long time, Miss."

For a while, I said nothing. I was just standing there, soaking wet, the rain that I took with me inside dripping on the floor. I was staking in his appearance for a moment. He was just as tall as I remember, standing there in his suit. For a moment, it seemed like he didn't change one bit, like nothing changed from the moment that I fist saw him on the train station three years ago.

But it did.

His hair was longer, I won the games alongside Gi-hun, we weren't on the train station, but in my Motel room, he wasn't holding a briefcase, he was holding a gun and I didn't.

But his voice was the same, he was still as tall as I remember, I suppose his smile was the same, too. And maybe, just maybe, he was feeling the same feelings he did three years ago before I gained and lost it all.

I just sighed and moved towards the table I ate. There was a towel that I threw last night. I started to pat my hair, trying to dry it off as I looked around for some dry clothes.

"You should've gotten on that plane that day." He said, looking over at me as I paused.

"I changed my mind when I saw you there." I said before continuing to dry myself.

The moment of quiet continued as I put the towel away. He tapped the map with his gun before he started to speak again. I truly didn't know how to feel. After I wasted three years trying to find him, he just shows up at my motel room. Funny.

"It looks like you've been trying hard to find me, darling." I could just hear that ignorant smirk in his voice. Motherfucker.

"Don't let it get to your head." I told him slowly, my voice completely calm. "I just wanted to thank you." I said as I took off my wet jacket, throwing it in the corner.

"Thank me?" He asked as he sat down on one of the sofas by the table next to my bed. I turned to look at him slowly, a dry jacket in my hand. That's when I noticed blood on the collar of his suit and his face. Motherfucker.

"For inviting me to the game." I said as I approached him, his eyes on me as I sat down, opposite him. "I won and took a bloody fortune with me."

He kept quiet, listening to me, his dark eyes flickering all over my face as I spoke.

"So the decent thing of me to do would be to thank you for it."

"I'm just a messenger who delivers invitations." He smirked, but before he could say more, I continued, all off my anger resurfacing.

"And just who had you deliver those invitations, handsome?" I spoke, venom infecting my every word. "Let me meet him. I have something to say to him."

"Give me the message, and I'll pass it along." He continued, giving me a smile at the end. It appears that I was right. His smile is the same.

"Oh, dear." I mockingly pouted as I crossed my legs. "I'm afraid that it's not something I can discuss with an underling like you."

His smile quivered as he raised his eyebrow. Waiting on me to continue.

"You prey on people who are hanging by a thread and corner them at subway stations." I could feel myself slowly starting to shake from anger and despair. "Someone like you wouldn't be able to understand what I'm trying to say, of course."

For a while, there was silence yet again. We were just looking at each other. Our eyes never leaving each other's.

"You know what the funniest thing was?"

"What, miss?"

"For a moment, when I was hunting you down, I was just delusional enough to think that we could actually team up. You know? Take down the games and whoever was behind them. I liked you. And I liked to think that. But now I realize just how wrong I was." I whispered, turning away from him as I spoke. Yet I still felt his eyes on me. "And boy was I wrong. You will never change. You like the monstrous things that you are doing."

"How do you think I got to where I am now?"

"I don't fucking care." I spat at him as I turned to look at him again, his expression unreadable. "I don't care how you became their dog. I just want you to bring me your master."

He looked down, sighing as he cracked his neck, gun still in his hold. After a while he spoke again.

"I used to work in the games when I was younger. I removed and burned the bodies of countless people like you."

He was the pink guard once.

"'These things aren't human. They're just trash utterly useless in this world.' I kept telling myself that and worked hard for a few years." He spoke, suddenly smiling again. "Then they gave me a gun."

The triangle guard.

"It felt pretty good." He said as he lifted up his gun, examining it. "Like my existence was acknowledged for the first time in my life. I don't know which year it was, but one day, I was about to shoot a man who had lost a game. The guy seemed familiar. Guess who it was."

I kept quiet.

"My dad." He finally said. "My dad was suddenly standing in front of me. He was in tears, desperately begging me to spare his life."

He suddenly moved his hand, placing the gun in front of my forehead, but his suddenly, quick movement did not startle me one bit. I was used to it.

"I shot him right in the middle of his forehead, and realized, 'Ah. I'm cut out for this job.'"

He was looking straight at me, his dark eyes mad. I narrowed mine at him. Was I supposed to feel sorry for him? Maybe, but I didn't. Not only did he enjoy it, but he also has no idea how it was like for me. All the things Gi-hun and I went through. All of people we lost along the way... Ali... Sae-byeok... Sang-woo...

"Whether you shoot people in there or con them outside, it doesn't change anything." I said, slowly leaning over towards him. "You have always been nothing more than their dog."

He clicked his gun, putting his finger on the trigger, his expression darkening.

"Miss." He started, his hand shaking slightly as I kept completely still. "Do you think you're special because you won the game?"

I said nothing. My expectation still as I leaned forward just a bit more, pressing my forehead directly on his gun. His dark expression broke into one of shock.

"Someone like you could never know or understand how I made it out of there alive. And how it feels to play the games."

Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. My expression barely changed, yet I could he on his face that my eyes old him every. Shock, disappointment and sadness.

He sighed before leaning over to me on the table that until now kept us at a distance. He was quiet for a while. I suppose he has always been that way.

"Let's play a game." He smiled at me.

I didn't say anything. He pulled out his phone and placed it on the table, letting a song play.

Time to say goodbye.

He leaned back against the seat as he lifted up his gun.

"I'm sure you've seen this in the movies." He started to explain, never breaking eye contact with me. "It's called Russian Roulette."

Motherfucker.

"Usually, you place one bullet in the gun, spin the cylinder, and pull the trigger." He said, clicking the gun in its place before pulling the trigger, explaining the game as he showed me what to do. "And before the next round, you spin the cylinder again. It rests the odds back to 1 in 6."

"I know." I mumbled and he smiled.

"But I'd like to make this game a little more serious." He smirked. "Because you're truly special, love."

"Cut to the chase." I glared at him and his stupid antics. He blinked at me and continued.

"We'll take turns pulling the trigger without spinning the cylinder again. The bullet will be fired within six attempts, and the game will be over." He paused. "What do you say?"

"Spin the gun." I frowned.

He smirked before gently placing the gun on the table. This could end badly on both sides, but for a moment, I found myself being selfish. Maybe, just maybe, if I lost this game after everything I went through, I could die and find peace with the people I lost. I could join them and leave with the feelings I have for him, that he possibly realized, unsaid. I could finally end it all. The night terrors, the time I spent searching for him, my cigarette addiction, mourning what I lost and what I couldn't have, yet at the same time not enjoying the money I got form the games. Who could enjoy that? Who could possibly enjoy living the life that I live.

He spinned the gun, and its tip pointed at me. Without a second thought, I took the gun and placed it by the side of my head. A few seconds later, not looking away from him, I pulled the trigger. Noting happened. That chamber was empty.

I put the gun on the table. I barely had time to move my hand before he took the gun, placed it by his head just like I did and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. He sighed in content as he placed the gun back on the table, smiling at me almost lovingly. I knew.

I took the gun and placed it by my head again, but before I could just pull the trigger he spoke up.

"I've always wondered how you made it out of there alive." He smiled before he laughed a little. "For, one thing, you were even terrible at ddakji."

I said nothing, glaring at him. I pulled the trigger. Nothing happened once again.

He looked at me, impressed by my luck so far. I looked him straight in the eyes as I threw the gun on the table. It slid over on the other side, right in front of me.

He took the gun after he took a moment to just look at me. Not breaking eye contact, he took the gun. Leaned over to me until he was basically touching me, pointing the gun at me. Then he did something that I did not expect at all. He put the gun in his mouth.

Motherfucker.

He pulled the trigger. I winced a little. Nothing again. He laughed at my expression as I tried my hardest to keep myself composed. He slowly took the gun out of his mouth before sitting back, putting the gun back on the table.

I took the gun and as I was about to place it by my head he spoke up again.

"What's the matter?" He asked me, raising his eyebrows. "Is your mind starting to race?"

I scoffed slightly.

Motherfucker.

"Now your odds of death are 1 in 2." He nodded. "That's pretty high indeed. I'm sure you're afraid, darling. Lots going through your mind."

I said nothing.

"Let me guess what you're thinking right now." Motherfucker. "'The gun is in my hand. Screw the rules. Pull the trigger once or twice, and I can blow his face off.' Isn't that right?"

I kept looking at him, glaring as I did. All while he spoke. "If you and Gi-hun want to meet the person you mentioned earlier, the key is in my pocket." At that I allowed my eyes to travel all over him. "You can simply shoot me with that gun and take it. But I'll have you admit one thing."

He took a moment to pause, my hand still holding the gun by my head. He leaned over once again.

"That you're a piece of trash, just like Gi-hun, just like everyone else that was in the games." He leaned over more closely, our lips practically touching as he spoke. "A piece of trash who got lucky and made it out of the dumpster."

He laughed as I pressed the gun against my head, our lips barely an inch away from each other's. This was it, I thought to myself. This round will determine if I live or die. I tightened the grip on the gun, my knuckles turning white again. I pulled the trigger.

Nothing happened.

He looked at me, then at the gun and then back at me. I started to chuckle lowly, like a maniac. Perhaps I was one. I watched his face closely as I pulled the gun away from my head. The grip on the gun still tight as I pointed it at his chin before slowly opening up my palm, waiting on him to take the final, real shot.

His hand touched mine. I felt him and myself freeze at the contact as he took the gun from my hand. I pulled my hand away as he looked at the gun.

"What's the matter?" I taunted him, my face mirroring the smirk that he always wears. "Is your mind starting to race?"

He said nothing as I spoke to him.

"That's right. Screw the rules. Now, with a single pull of the trigger, you could kill me." He looked pale at my words. "But... before you leave me forever this time. I'll have you admit two things."

He looked at me as I brought my hand at his cheek, wiping a little bit of blood on his face.

"You put a mask on your face and do whatever your master says. You run, bark, and wave your tail for them. You're nothing more than their dog." I told him before my voice became gentle.

He waited on me, his eyes soft.

"And regarding this." I said as I waved my hand slightly between the two of us. "You really are a dog. A dog that loves me. And... perhaps I am a fool, too. Because I love a dog that could've made it all work out for us but was too much of a coward to do so."

I leaned over to him, my hand landing under his chin, holding him.

"Admit it." I whispered as we looked each other in the eyes. "Admit that you love me, that you did ever since you gave me that fucking card."

For a moment, there was silence. His tortured eyes, looking at me. I knew. I always did. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, for a moment. This would be the last time that I spoke to him, that I could look into his eyes.

"I love you." He whispered.

All of a sudden, there was a loud sound followed by blood spraying my face as his body fell backward.

I stood up and walked over to him. I don't know how long I stood there, but after a while, I felt a tear sliding down my cheek. My hand touched my cheek as I whipped it away.

Motherfucker.

[kissedsuns]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆, lando norris

fem!reader. minimal suggestive behaviour. pet names. lots of fluff. established relationship. kissing. ₊ 𓂃 masterlist.

as many know, lando norris is quite the busy man, professional when required yet terribly unorganised, his tight schedule allowing him to pardon his tragic mess of a house when he simply cannot tend to it. lando is also known to have one of the sweetest girlfriends to walk this earth, which would obviously be you.

he loves you, that much he is most certain of— lando is very much aware of your feelings for him, that you love being able to look after him, you’re his angel, the girl of his dreams...

but sometimes, he feels terrible that you have to come to his home and maneuver through all of his clothes shamelessly tossed onto the floor, or several boxes cluttering up the space of his bedroom. they were already unboxed, but lando hadn't the time of day to rid his house of such a mess.

he was embarrassed. his lifestyle is far too chaotic to be meshing with yours.

he was about to head off to austria for yet another race weekend, and you intended to stay at his place instead.

even when lando mumbled a honeyed “it’s no fun without you.” into your hair, you reluctantly turned him down; usually not one to refuse him of anything when he looked at you with that specific softened green colouring in his eyes.

“you’ll be stuck here in this shithole. do you seriously want that?”

“lando, i already told you,” you caressed his cheek softly, legs dangling off the side of the bed where the two of you were perched. your foot would occasionally brush the side of one of his gaming consoles that were thrown onto the floor. “i don’t care about the mess. it’s okay.”

to lando, you were the most understanding girl in the world.

“alright, alright, sweet thing,” he planted two soft kisses to each of your rosy, flushed cheeks. “i’ll be back before you know it.”

on his way out, luggage in hand, you swatted his ass cheekily, earning one of his hilariously girlish yelps.

with him gone, it gave you an ample amount of time to relax.

you managed to spend the rest of the afternoon pampering yourself with a face mask, a bubble bath, and a fresh coat of nail polish in a dreamy shade of pink.

as the evening rolled around you found yourself sprawled across his bed, lounging in a matching pyjama set paired with your favourite fluffy socks. lying on your stomach with your legs kicking in the air, you flipped through a glossy magazine brimming with juicy, but unnecessary, celebrity gossip.

it was peaceful, until your mind began to wander. your eyes trailed across the room, really taking in just how cluttered your boyfriend’s space had become.

you knew he wasn’t a messy guy; in fact, he couldn’t stand hoarding or unnecessary chaos. if only he had someone to tidy it all up for him.

oh, if only.

the thought lingered in your mind as you assessed state of the room. you loved cleaning, keeping things neat and organised was practically second nature to you. but lando would never expect, let alone rely on you to tidy up his space.

still, the longer you observed the mess, the stronger the urge to help grew.

so, that is precisely what you did when you scrambled to sit up and set the magazine aside.

you got busy, plugging in your airpods as you gathered lando’s scattered clothes and tossed them into the washing machine. once that was sorted, you tackled the empty cardboard boxes, discarding them properly and clearing up some much-needed space.

junk was removed from his gaming setup, his helmet display shelf was dusted and reorganised to the way it was (before it got a little crowded and lando forgot to take care of it), and finally, his apartment looked a little more cozy.

it would be a few nights without him, which you didn’t mind. it just gave you more of an opportunity to do some harmless decorating!

you took that time to slip away to a lovely flower shop and couldn’t resist picking up a few bouquets of tulips, creamy white roses, and some lilies too. you arranged them in mismatched glass vases, placing one on the dining table, another on the coffee table, and a smaller one on his nightstand.

you also thought his bathroom looked a tad bland, and lando knew it too, so what better way to fix the problem than a little scrubbing up?

you also couldn’t help but notice his bathroom looked a bit plain, and you knew lando thought it too, son what better excuse to freshen it up than with a little scrubbing?

the sink and mirror was left spotless, his scattered toiletries were neatly grouped on a tray (which you made sure to clean as well), and you borrowed a sweet, vanilla candle from the living room to set on the counter.

you stepped back to admire your work, adding a few final touches with a proud smile on your face.

there were only a few days left until lando came home, and you kept yourself busy, finding little things to do and spaces to tidy up.

you were just lounging on the couch, the sun finally setting, just minding your business watching some girly series in a small cami and lacy shorts that you could never see yourself watching with your boyfriend.

you didn’t make any attempt to move as you heard the front door lock click and the sound of heavy footsteps making their way towards the living room.

sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when you finally heard the lock of the front door turning. lando was home later than usual— a fact you were entirely too aware of since you were impatiently waiting for him to return.

usually, you’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over your face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he missed you over the race weekend, but now it was your turn to give him a little surprise.

“baby, i’m home, hellooo?” he sang, grinning from ear to ear.

you were not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in your movements before you saw him in front of you in all his glory.  

“hi,” your voice was meek, careful not to startle him too much in his vulnerable, barely functioning state.

lando was in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looked up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when you practically tumbled into his arms.

you mumbled something to him which was muffled against his chest when he rested his big hands on your hips in an attempt to steady you.  

“hey, princess,” he murmured into you hair. “did ya get up to much?” he reluctantly pulled away in order to look at you properly.

“you tell me.”

his brows climbed his forehead, moony eyes staring down at you in bewilderment before being ushered towards the bedroom. it took him a minute to take in his surroundings, but when he noticed the lack of dirty socks and a lot of open space to walk around in, his face lit up.

“i just wanted to keep myself occupied while you were away,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.

“you did this? all by yourself?”

you nodded, looking up at him with pure adoration swimming in your eyes. 

“you’re so fucking perfect, baby. i don’t know what i did to deserve you, but you’ve turned my place into a goddamn dream.” he couldn’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way your eyes rounded out in response to his words. 

“you’re just saying that,” you dismissed him with a playful scoff. 

“m’being so, so serious. look at this—look at you. you didn’t have to do any of this, but you did. you always do. god, how’d i get so damn lucky?” he swooned, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek; overwhelming you to no end. 

his gaze sweeped over every detail, from the flowers to the perfectly fluffed pillows on the bed.

“sooo, i take it that you like it?”  

he let out a sigh. “sooo, you’re really askin’ me that?”

a giggle escaped your lips, head lolling slightly, “just had to be sure… do you?”

with a roll of his eyes, he quickly closed the gap between you, giving you a kiss so casual and natural, it made your lashes flutter rapidly. sticky gloss transferred onto his mouth that he didn’t even bother to wipe away.

you pull back slowly, breathless smiles on both their lips. you wanted to linger there together, wanted to stay in their own little bubble.

“does that answer your question?”

but with his lips on yours, in that moment, it didn't matter to you in the slightest.

you cheekily yanked him back in for another kiss, giving his fluffy curls a little tug. you felt him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of his room getting messy again ... your clothes scattered across the floor as he hoisted you up and practically threw you onto the bed, completely ruining the freshly made bedding!

all that hard work for him to just make his room and you all messy again?

but with his lips on yours, none of that mattered in the slightest.

©KISSEDSUNS 2024.

[oneoftheextras]

down a peg | j.t

masterlist | tip for the author?

paring: sub!jayce talis x f!reader

summary: jayce's ego has gotten the better of him, so you come up with a way to put him in his place

words: 7k (happy holidays ig)

warnings: +18, smut, pegging, eventual sub!jayce, dom!reader, male whimpering and begging, two tops fighting for power, hair pulling.

want a handwritten letter from a character? / join the discord

Jayce Talis was the man of process. He was smart, caring, egotistical and most definitely in need of humbling.

He walked around the lab like he owned it, making so much noise with his fancy shoes and his constant monologuing.

His long muscular legs striding across the room to pick up pages of work that wasn’t his, just so he could be involved and comment on it.

He drove you and Viktor crazy on most days.

When he became counsellor his head grew so large that you were surprised he could fit through the doorframe.

In reality, he was harmless. Both you and Viktor knew that he cared about the two of you more than anything, but his new title gave him a false sense of bravado that you didn’t like.

The afternoon that Jayce accidentally slipped a ‘That’s an order’ to you, was the afternoon that began his downfall.

If the raised eyebrow and displeased look you shared with Viktor wasn’t enough to let Jayce know he’d gone too far, the sarcastic “Yes, Counsellor Talis,” from you, and the mocking “Anything you say, Counsellor Talis!” from Viktor should’ve been.

After Jayce left the lab, you and Viktor decided enough was enough.

“He’s got a good heart, but we need to do something about his ego,” Viktor had casually mentioned, unintentionally lighting the catalyst of your scheme.

You huffed, signalling your agreement and began reorganising the papers Jayce had messed up earlier, “What can we do? He’s the golden boy!” you feigned excitement.

“He just needs reminding of where he came from. Taken down a few pegs,” Viktor was concentrating on tinkering with something to calm his frustrations.

Wiping a dirty, ink covered hand over your forehead, you thought about his words and a sly smile formed on your lips.

“Say that again?” you turned your body from your work to face Viktor, “What? Remind him where he came from?” he was still concentrating on his gadget.

You shuffled your chair closer, “No, the other bit,” there was mischief in your voice.

At your sudden proximity to him, Viktor turned to face you, the magnifying glass in his goggles making his eye look funny.

“Take him down a few pegs?” he repeated himself, eyebrows slightly knitted with confusion, but they eventually relaxed at the realisation hit him.

He chuckled a little, but when you didn’t laugh with him he stopped, “You cannot be serious?” he gave you a surprised expression.

“I’m very serious,” you confirmed that his train of thought and yours were on the same tracks. "How?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You grabbed some clean paper and a pencil, "Give me 10 minutes," you turned back to your desk and started scribbling.

It took you a little bit longer than the 10 minutes you had promised, but your design was done.

Handing it to Viktor, you held your breath, waiting for his feedback the same way you did the first time you showed him one of your ideas. "It is a little crude, don't you think?" he turned the paper ninety degrees to observe it at a different angle.

"I think it would be impossible to not make it crude, considering what it is," you put your hand on the back of his chair and lowered your head to study your drawing again.

Viktor leaned his head to the side and sighed as if to say that you were right. "It is simplistic, yet... beautiful," he complimented and your chest swelled with pride.

"Manageable?" you queried, that was the main concern of yours. "Oh, of course," Viktor put the page down on the desk in front of him, "Easily so," he confirmed and you smiled.

The clock showed 9:41pm, "Let's get started then," you picked up the paper and walked over to the shelves of resources you shared. "What? Right now?" Viktor was surprised at your eagerness.

"Might as well," you shrugged, putting what you'd need into a box under your arm, "A little hasty, no?" he'd stood from his desk and taken a few steps towards you with his cane.

He watched you pick and choose which materials you wanted and which you didn't. "No time like the present," you chuckled as you put the last piece into your box and headed for the workbench.

"Do you really want to deal with him for another day?" you raised an eyebrow, and the way that Viktor glanced to the ground and back up at you was all the assurance you needed.

In no time, Viktor had joined you at the workbench and the two of you got to work.

After a few hours, the main parts were basically done. There were a few modifications you'd needed to make along the way, but Viktor was good at problem solving on the fly.

He stretched his back and paused for a moment to watch you work. "One query I do have..." Viktor started and you hummed in a response for him to continue.

"Once it's made, how are you going to... you know?" it was as though vocalising the words was too embarrassing for him, but you didn't interject. "Execute your plan?" he finally asked.

In honesty, the realisation of what your scheme entailed hadn't fully set in just yet.

"I have some ideas," you shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, but your heart raced at the thought.

As if talking about him had summoned him, the door to the lab swung open. You and Viktor let out a small gasp, but you immediately grabbed a sheet and threw it over the workbench.

"Have either of you seen my-" Jayce had started to say, but stopped when he saw you both by the workbench, "-What's going on?" he interrupted his original question.

You walked out from behind the table and instead leaned on it, trying to body block anything you hadn't managed to cover.

"What were you looking for?" you tried to steer him back to his first thought. "My forging gloves- are you working on something?" he stepped forward and leaned to the side to try to see behind you.

"No!", "Yes!", you and Viktor spoke at the same time. You mentally cursed yourself for not preparing something for this exact scenario.

"We are-" you spoke quickly and loudly to indicate to Viktor that you would handle it, "-But it's not ready yet,". Jayce didn't even look at you, he had excitement and annoyance in his eyes that trailed the table.

"Without me? Let me see!" Jayce almost-whined, you could hear the small fraction of hurt in his voice.

Taking a silent and quick inhale, you knew what you had to do.

As Jayce continued to walk towards the table, you stepped forward to intercept him, your chest no more than an inch from his.

"Jayce..." you lowered your voice slightly and spoke with a soft and enticing cadence. The room fell silent, and Jayce blinked a few times as he glanced down to you, he'd never heard you sound like that.

He opened his mouth to say something but his jaw slowly closed again when your and gently trailed up the front of his shirt to play with his tie.

"I was wondering if I could borrow your soldering iron?" the tone of your voice and the words you were saying couldn't have been more contrasting.

You slipped your fingers under his tie and you could feel the warmth of his chest and the beating of his heart against your knuckles.

"Y-Yeah, sure," he cleared his throat after his words came out slightly shaky.

Running your thumb over the expensive red silk of his tie and smiling sweetly at him, you looked up at him with the best 'fuck me' eyes you could muster, and lightly pulled on the fabric.

His eyelids fluttered as his blinking sped up. In all the years the three of you had known each other, you'd never acted this way with him.

"Great, where is it?" you spoke even quieter than before so he really needed to focus on your words, so all of his attention was on you, "Forge," was all he could say.

You hummed to indicate you were happy with his response and let go of his tie, smoothing your hand down the front of his chest as if you were making in presentable again.

"Off you go then," you tapped his chest twice before stepping backwards to signal that he could leave. "Right, okay," he nodded and cleared his throat again, almost snapping out of the trance you'd put him in.

He nodded again to Viktor to say goodbye and promptly turned around and strode out of the lab.

As you spun back around to face Viktor, his jaw was being collected off of the floor, "Wha-Huh? How did you do that??".

You shrugged and smirked confidently, "I said I had some ideas,", Viktor was also as lost for words as Jayce was, "We don't have time for that, come on!" you laughed and gestured for Viktor to take the sheet off.

Conscious that Jayce wouldn't take too long returning from the forge, the two of you worked double time. The only thing that was left to do was connect the most important part.

"What're you going to use for the..." Viktor tried to make hand gestures instead of saying the word, and you saved him the embarrassment, "I have something already don't worry," somehow all shame had been lost the longer you worked on this.

He shook his head to erase the thought from his brain.

“I don’t mean, like, mine!” you tried to quickly backtrack, “I’ve made a prototype of something previously,” your hand gestures became more elaborate the more you tried to explain.

“Ah-ah-ah!” Viktor shook his head quicker than before, “I don’t need to know!” he protested but he was smiling, still finding the humorous side.

You spared him any further details and tapped the table as though audibly providing the full stop to your sentence.

The silence that followed was awkward and somewhat tense.

"Are you really going to do it?", Viktor was the first one to break the quiet between you. At first the whole scenario was kind of funny, but now that you'd actually made it, the seriousness of your plan was starting to rear it's head.

You picked at a piece of the wooden workbench that had began to splinter, nervousness running through your veins.

"What if he doesn't want me, and I make it weird?" you ask Viktor quietly, your voice showing an insecurity he'd never seen you have.

It was impossible for you to make eye contact with him after saying something like that, but the reality that you were about to attempt to seduce and sleep with, not only a friend, but your business partner.

"What if I try this and I ruin everything we've built together?" you still avoided looking at Viktor. Afraid that his expression would provide you with the answer you were dreading.

He exhaled sharply and he called your name with a soft and comforting tone, only then did you find the courage to meet his eye.

"We have known each other for a very long time, yes?" you nodded instead of verbally replying to his question, "In all that time you have never noticed the way Jayce looks at you,".

It wasn't a question, it was a statement. An exasperated one at that.

"The way he looks at me?" you pointed at yourself and it was your turn to look surprised. Viktor let out a 'Pfft' noise, "Please-" he raised an eyebrow, "Do you think he acts like that-" he gestured to the space where the two of you had been earlier, "-with everyone?".

The cogs in your brain were barely turning, all their power used on your creation that was laid out on the workbench in front of you.

"I guess not," you relented any further protests, and glanced towards the clock, 1:27am.

Viktor followed where your vision had landed and stood from his stool clearly noting how late it had become, "Right, I am going to my bedroom... which is on the other side of the building...".

He said the last part with faux innocence, but his smile gave away the context to his words.

"I need to get the thing from my room anyway, so I'll walk with you,".

Jayce grumbled to himself as he made his way back to the lab. The hallways were a ghost town at this time of night so he had nothing other than his own thoughts to accompany him.

Despite the never ending to-do-list that was handed to him over the last few hours, his mind kept drifting back to the interaction he'd had with you in the lab.

He had never seen you act like that. Why did it make him stumble over his words? How did he crumble so quickly under your touch?

He was perplexed at the involuntary actions of his own body; frustrated and annoyed at himself for following your instructions so blindly, yet a part of him yearned for that feeling again.

Whilst that want was strong, he still felt as though his pride had been wounded. He'd yielded at your commands like a lap dog, and it wasn't going to happen again.

He was simply caught off guard, that was all.

Jayce's grip on the soldering iron was tight as he pushed open the heavy wooden door to the lab.

He'd entered this room a million times over the years, but he felt the rush of adrenaline surge through him as he crossed the threshold, only for it to dissipate when he realised it was empty.

The only signs of you or Viktor was your messy station, and his shoulders slumped with disappointment he didn't know he had. He glanced down at the iron in his hand, maybe he'd taken too long.

Sighing, he walked to the workbench where the two of you had been standing before and placed it down on one of the only free spaces available.

He was about to continue his evening, maybe go for a walk around the grounds or find a bar to have a quick drink in, but the sheet of fabric was too tempting.

With no one else around, who would know that he took a quick look at your project?

All hesitation he previously had was replaced with childlike excitement as he peeled back the fabric to reveal what you both had tried to hard to keep from him.

Once his eyes landed on the object, he tilted his head to the side and his eyebrows furrowed with confusion - he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at.

He picked it up by one of the leather cords and held it in his hands, his thumb running over the hollow circle in the middle that was decorated by a metal ring.

The design was very simple, but a few embellishments decorated the soft triangular fabric and the belts that were connected to it.

He turned it over in his hands but couldn't quite figure out what it was, until he saw the accompanying sketches.

When you entered the lab, you didn't see him at first as you pushed the door open with your hip, but the clanking of tools and rustling of paper made you look up.

"Oh, I- uh-" Jayce fumbled with both his words and his hands as he tried to put everything back as he'd found it. The sound of metal clattering to the floor interrupted any excuse he was going to start making.

This was probably how he had found you and Viktor a few hours prior.

"I thought you'd left," he chuckled nervously, "I did-" you pointed to the door behind you, "-But then I came back," your finger redirected to the floor in front of you.

It was painfully obvious that you'd caught him in the act, but he was trying to play it off with that dashing smile he'd give during speeches.

Unfortunately for Jayce, you weren't the average population of Piltover that were so easily won over.

"Find anything interesting?" you folded your arms over your chest, "What, I- no?" he maintained the façade, but your scolding stare told him the gig was up.

"Fine, yes, I looked," he relented, "I'm sorry if you felt like you couldn't tell me, I wouldn't have judged-" he was making less sense the more he spoke, but there was an air of something to his voice.

"-What?" you studied his hand gestures to try and figure out what he was trying to say so poorly, "I had no idea you and Viktor-", "-Me and Viktor?" you interjected with even more confusion than before.

Jayce stopped speaking for long enough to stare at you, his eyes searching yours.

"Is this not for you to use with him?" he asserted and pulled back the fabric sheet; the seriousness of his tone made you laugh. "No, it's not," you unfolded your arms and rested your hands on your hips, your bag still hanging from your shoulder.

Jayce scoffed and glanced around the room with annoyance, clearly not believing you.

"Then why were you being so secretive about it earlier?" his words were less of a question and more of an accusation.

You approached him and placed your bag on top of the assortment of papers and materials.

"Why would you not include me?" he fired another question at you before you had a chance to answer the first.

The workbench was in between you, but you could still feel the heat of his emotions from where you stood.

"Did you really think Viktor and I were together?" you leaned forward on the workbench, his scent wafting over to you the more he gestured.

It was hard not to crumble as the notes of coal smoke, cherry and leather that filled your nostrils, but you stood strong.

"I think a lot of people do," he grumbled, "The two of you spend all your time together, you're basically inseparable-"

He stepped away from the workbench and angled himself towards the door.

"-I can't talk to one of you without the other being there, it's like you're attached at the hip-", his ramblings became more emotionally charged.

Although you couldn't see his face, you finally caught what his words were laced with - envy.

"-Are you jealous?", you cut him off. He clearly wasn't expecting the accusation as he stopped mid-step and turned back to you.

"Why would I be jealous?" he tried to sound nonchalant but failed miserably. His cheeks flushed a new shade of pink, and you knew your game had began.

You shrugged and leaned against the workbench, the same way you had earlier, but now it was just the two of you.

"It just sounds like you're jealous," you lowered your voice ever -so-slightly. Not as much as before, but enough that it made Jayce swallow the saliva that had caught in his throat.

Jayce's brain buffered for a moment, caught in the fog of your voice, but he quickly recomposed himself - he wasn't going to let you get the better of him again.

"I'm not," he muttered.

You shrugged and turned your back on him, reaching over to grab your creation from where Jayce had left it, you looked back at him over your shoulder as you leaned.

As predicted, his eyeline was not on your face. When he realised you were looking at him, he quickly averted his gaze.

His hands gripped at his sides as he took a few steps towards you.

Your heart leap in your chest when you saw him move, but it was short lived when he stopped, keeping an arms distance between the two of you.

"Where is Viktor anyway?" Jayce asked, avoiding your eyeline as you twisted back to face him.

You held your project in your hands but gave Jayce all your attention, "He's gone to bed," you explained, "Wont be back until the morning," you implied.

His lower lip darted in between his teeth for a second at how slowly and purposely you spoke. He could feel the suggestion in your voice as if you'd written it out in front of him.

Hesitantly, he took another step towards you and put himself within touching distance, if you wanted to.

He could feel his heart picking up speed under his ribcage. The two of you had been alone multiple times over the years, but it had never felt like this. Never felt so tempting.

He grabbed hold of the device in your hands, his middle and index finger overlapping yours sent fireworks through your body, and you knew he could feel it too.

"And this?" he was so close to you now that he only needed to whisper and you could hear him clear as day. "What about it?" you gazed up at him, trying to speak to him with your eyes, but he was focused on your hands.

"Who's it for?" he asked, and you smiled to yourself, "Me," you stated plainly, "And whoever else I want," the last part was almost inaudible, but he most-definitely heard it.

"And who do you want?" he leaned towards you, his confidence was starting to show again as his question caught you off guard. This whole time you had planned to be the one to initiate, but never actually figured out how to.

It seemed as if he was giving you the perfect opening, but now that the time was here, you found your words caught in your throat.

"Jayce..." was all you could manage, it wasn't needy or relenting, but the low and suggestive way you said his name made him act before he could think.

He forcefully stepped forward, his chest pressing against yours but the momentum not stopping until his hands - and your lower back - were firmly against the workbench.

At some point during the two or three seconds of movement, you'd let go of the strap and it was now in between Jayce's palm and the counter.

His eyes pierced into yours as he towered over you, giving you nowhere to move, but you knew this wasn't how this was going to go - no matter how much you enjoyed it.

Other than his body against yours, he hadn't actually touched you yet, and you decided that you were going to be the one to bridge that gap.

You gently placed your hand on his chest and untucked his tie from his waistcoat whilst maintaining eye contact with him.

His breath was hitting your face in hard puffs as your fingers intertwined with the soft red fabric, pulling it loose from his collar.

His eyeline dipped from yours to your lips and you knew what was coming. He closed his eyes and moved his head quickly, but your finger caught his pursed lips before they could make contact with your own.

He opened his eyes and glanced between your finger on his lips and your face, and immediately backed away.

"I'm sorry, I-" his thoughts were momentarily consumed with scolding, thinking he'd misread your messages and made a fool of himself.

To defuse the situation, you hooked your fingers into the front of his collar and pulled him back towards you, "You haven't earned that yet," you asserted.

His expression softened before returning to a sultry smile, "Earned?" he tilted his head to the side and mockingly repeated your wording.

You hummed to show your agreement as you pulled the remainder of his tie free and let it fall to the floor.

"Take this off," you lazily pinched the fabric of his waistcoat, "Then maybe you can kiss me," the command in your voice was new, even to you, but it felt comfortable.

He regarded you for a moment with his mouth slightly parted, you were sure you'd pushed him too far, but when he reached up and undid the first clasp you mentally let go of the breath you were holding.

The waistcoat slid off of his shoulders with ease, and he instantly leaned into you again, but you tutted.

"No," you pushed him away by his chest gently and tapped your finger to your chin as though you were thinking, "That too," you pointed at his shirt.

This time he didn't hesitate. He straightened his spine and shuffle backwards so you could properly see him as he undid every button.

He started at the bottom, untucking it from his pants, and slowly popping two of the buttons, one with each hand.

The first part of his skin you saw was the dark trail of hair that lead to his belly button, then his toned abdomen. He sped up when he got to his chest, his shirt fully open but still hanging from his shoulders.

He smirked as your eyes raked over his form, he was playing with you as much as you were playing with him, just in his own way.

In all the years you'd spent together, you'd never actually seen Jayce in a state of undress. Whenever he was in the forge, you were at a desk.

You nudged your head to the side, indicating for him to continue, so he did. With a shrug of his shoulders, the black fabric slid down his body effortlessly to land a few inches away from his waistcoat.

The sight of him with his torso bare almost knocked the air out of your lungs, "Pretty boy," you breathed absentmindedly.

He practically preened at the compliment and strode back to you, this time he waited before trying to kiss you again.

Your hands trailed up the front of his chest and between his pecks, it felt so different without the constraints of his shirt in the way, but you felt him shiver under your touch.

Drawing the outline of his collarbone with your fingertip, you felt his voice rumbling before you heard it.

"Can I?" he kept his composure but there was an underlying tone of pleading to his question, "You can-", the words had barely left your mouth before he'd grabbed the back of your head and encapsulated his mouth with yours.

His lips were soft and warm. At first he only pressed his lips against yours, but he quickly pulled away only to open his mouth and deepen the kiss.

The way his bottom lip dragged over yours made lightening sizzle through your body, if he wasn't already holding you up your knees would've buckled beneath you.

Your hands found their way into his hair and you returned the feverishness of his kiss.

The way you both timed your sharp inhales of breath between the milliseconds where your mouths weren't connected was nothing short of a display of years of longing.

His lips snatched every kiss from you as if he was never going to get the opportunity to do this again, stealing every inch of your mouth for himself.

He quickly and gently pressed his teeth against your bottom lip and pulled playfully, causing a quiet and unintentional moan to escape your throat.

He continued to kiss you, but you could feel the cocky smirk against your lips. He was playing your game and you were losing.

You realised how much you'd leaned into his touch, how his strong hands had moulded you to where he wanted you. You needed to regain control.

Sharply, you tightened your grip in his hair and pulled his head backwards - a soft whimper leaving his lips, and hitting you straight in your core, giving you a small tingle.

The two of you panted as his throat was exposed to you.

You leaned in and licked up the sensitive flesh, feeling prickles of his stubble against your tongue, "I want your pants off," you spoke against his throat, before you released him.

He stumbled backwards, obviously taken off guard by you. He was sure you'd melted in his palm, but you were back to giving him orders.

When you gestured to his lower half, he quickly undid his belt buckle and unzipped his pants, pushing them to the floor and stepping out of them.

His underwear was slightly pulled down from the force he'd pulled his pants down with, so you could see the indents of his V line and a patch of dark hair peaking over the waistband.

You were going to tease him some more, but the clear outline of where he was straining against the fabric was too much of a temptation to wait.

"And those," you lazily gestured to his boxers as if you weren't as excited as he was. He just had the unfortunate biology of not being able to hide it.

He grumbled, but hooked his thumbs into his waistband and slowly pulled them down. Just as he was about to get to the halfway point, he put his hand into his boxers and pushed the rest of the fabric down.

Once again, he stepped out of the leg holes, but kept one hand on the base of his dick so his hand and wrist evaded it from your view.

"Let me see," you said in a gentle tone. For a moment you were unsure if he was shy, but has he slipped his shoes off with a smirk, you knew this was a man who had every confidence in his physical appearance and this was him trying to yank some control back.

"I think we need to even this out," he sauntered over to you with poise, he took hold of your collar and attempted to undo the first button, but you gripped his wrist and pulled it away.

"I think you need to remember your place," you corrected him, your index finger and thumb taking hold of his strong jaw and squeezing for a second.

You hand trailed up to the side of his face, it was gentle and a complete contrast to the way you'd just grabbed him.

Your thumb brushed over his bottom lip and he instinctively opened his mouth with a groan, allowing your thumb to slip in and hook over his teeth.

He could easily pull your hand away if he wanted, but he didn't.

"Don't you want me to touch you?" you asked with faux innocence, and he nodded with your thumb still in his mouth, "Then let me see," you continued the façade of purity.

He gazed into your eyes and you could almost see his golden irises searching for his next opportunity for the upper hand, but when he found none, he simply moved his hand.

It hadn't registered that he'd let go at first, it wasn't until his cock thumped heavily against your thigh that you realised he'd done it.

You looked down, thinking for a second that something had fallen off of the workbench behind you, but when you saw his thick member resting against your leg and stood to attention, you held back a gasp.

Of course he was big; not that you'd thought about it before.

As you wrapped your fingers around his shaft and started to slowly move your wrist, it was something that seemed obvious to you now. He was a large man, easily taller and more muscular than you, so of course you would struggle to make your fingers meet around his width.

He wanted to make a smartass comment, he'd seen the momentary surprise on your features and he wanted to capitalise on the opportunity, but the way you massaged his length left no room for anything other than strangled moans to come from him.

His hips started to move with your rhythm and his breathing got heavier, he was adamant to stay standing tall and keep eye contact with you, but he was struggling.

"I saw how much you were straining, isn't this so much better?" you purred, and he bit his lower lip with a quiet response of "Mhmm," as he fought to keep his eye contact with you.

You noticed how he was trying so hard to remain composed, so you sped up your hand. He gasped and audibly moaned; he stayed upright for another three or four seconds before he fell forward and caught himself on the workbench.

His forehead rested on your shoulder, with one hand resting on he base of your neck, and the other against the bench.

The noises that spilled from him were sinful, but you wanted more.

He got louder as his hips moved against your rhythm, and you got a brief glimpse as to what he would feel like inside you as the ridges and veins of his cock pressed against your fingers.

You pressed your legs together to try and relieve some of the tension but it was useless, feeling him grip you so tightly and breathing so heavily against you was almost too much.

The grasp you had on him loosened until you fully let go, "No, please," he protested breathlessly and looked up at you with pleading eyes.

That image of him would be ingrained into your brain forever; his hair messy, with a few strands stuck to his sweaty forehead, whilst his glossy eyes bore into you with desire and desperation.

That would've been enough to get you through any more of his egotistical demands, but you were greedy, and too turned on to stop now.

"What do you want?" you cooed at him, brushing his hair back out of his face, "I want to fuck you," he quietly confessed.

You smiled, "What was that?" you teased, wanting him to say it louder.

"Please let me fuck you," he begged, and you affectionately caressed his cheek.

You reached behind you on the workbench until your fingers found what you were looking for, and once you did, you held it up proudly.

"Not today, pretty boy," you pinched the tip of his chin with your thumb and index finger to make him look at you, "I want to fuck you instead, is that okay?" you said with as much confidence as you'd ever had in your life.

He rapidly looked between your face and the strap you were holding, before he glanced towards the floor with a blush, but nodded.

"I'm going to need to hear you," you forced his eyeline back to you again. When he didn't immediately reply, you added with sincerity, "If you don't want to, that's also okay,".

Almost as soon as you'd provided him with a proverbial 'get-out-of-jail-free card', he shook his head "No, I want to, I really want to,".

"Are you sure?" you dropped all teasing and mocking tones you'd previously had to let him know that it was okay if he wasn't certain.

"One hundred percent sure," he confirmed with a smile, his eyes blown out and filled with desire.

You pulled his face to yours and kissed him deeply, your tongue exploring his mouth for a second before gently pushing him away.

You pointed to the black leather couch in between two of the desks and started to slip off your own pants as you ungraciously stepped into the harness, relieved that he had his back turned when you stumbled on one of the belts.

Once it was on, you reached into the bag you'd left on the side and pulled out the silicone cylinder you'd made months prior, and a bottle of lube.

When Jayce sat down and saw what you were holding, his eyes went wide with curiosity, "What is that?" the blue light reflected in his eyes.

You chuckled as you approached him, "I made it for me, for the rare times I get to be alone, it's intuitive to the user. If you want it bigger it'll get bigger, if you need it smaller it'll-" you explained but he interrupted.

"You've used it on yourself?" he asked with some of his usual confidence, his dick twitching as his mind clearly ran rampant, "Yes," you said with a mocking tone as an answer to his stupid question.

He was going to continue his questioning as he reached towards your crotch, but you playfully slapped his hand away, "You can touch me when I say you can," your voice reverted back to it's commanding tone.

"But I want to make you feel good too," he laid down on his back, taking up the majority of the couch by himself, but there was a small space for you between his legs.

"It will," you reassured him and placed the device through the metal ring, reaching into your own pants to move your underwear out of the way, and pressing the hooked end of it find your own hole.

The blue light got stronger as it slipped inside you, the sudden intrusion making you moan suddenly.

Jayce watched you eagerly as his breathing sped up again, his dick bouncing against his stomach when your moans hit his ears.

Now that it was in place with the phallic part protruding from the metal ring, you drizzled some lube onto it and rubbed it in with your hand.

He wouldn't admit it, but watching you stroke the device as if you had a dick of your own was extremely hot to him.

"Ready?" you asked as you positioned yourself between his legs. He lifted his hips and nodded eagerly.

You lined the tip of the dildo up with his asshole and rubbed gently, smearing the lube against it. When the device made contact with Jayce it moulded itself to be thinner, already working as you'd designed it.

As slowly as you could, you pushed the tip into him, breaching his tight ring with ease. Jayce whimpered as his eyes rolled back into his head, you pushed in a little further and then pulled back as far as you could without it coming out of him.

"I can t-take more," he moaned, and glanced down to where your crotches were connected.

You gave him a scorning look, "That's not how you ask," you pushed into him a little bit more, letting another whimper fall from him.

Inside you, the dildo reverberated and pushed itself deeper into you, but you were able to hold back the moan.

"Please, more," he begged, fully giving into your control. He wanted to hold out a little longer but it was impossible, between your lust-filled gaze and the dildo's ridges massaging his insides, he had no chance.

Happy with his pleading, you thrusted softly forward, pressing deeper into him, "Fuck!" he moaned loudly.

His hips squirmed as he tried to fuck himself onto it more than you were giving, the dildo slowly got thicker once he'd gotten used to the sensation.

You would be merciful this time since he had adjusted so well, and thrusted at a more natural pace, the device mimicking your movements inside you.

It pounded into you with a bit more ferocity than you were giving Jayce, it already being accustom to you. Moaning, you fell forward, catching yourself on Jayce's chest.

Somehow you'd managed to keep your eyes open. Watching how his cock bounced with every thrust, you could've help but imagine what it would feel like to be riding him instead.

Your genius had become your downfall as the intuitive nature of the dildo kicked in, widening and lengthening itself to be a replica of what you were seeing.

"Oh, g-god!" you threw your head back with pleasure, the constant pounding against your g-spot, alongside the stretch of the new design was all too much, your strangled moan echoed through the room.

Jayce's eyes opened so he could see your face and he almost came on the spot. Your cheeks were flushed and your eyebrows lifted into a knot of ecstasy, his own moans and whimpers a harmony of your own.

The fire inside you was burning hotter and hotter as you struggled to keep up your pace, whilst Jayce had found the perfect rhythm to manoeuvre his hips to your own.

He begged and pleaded with you not to stop, the word "Please" becoming his new mantra.

"Can I cum?" he asked you with a broken voice, his eyes finally meeting with yours. He looked so messy, pathetic and beautiful all at once, you couldn't deny him, "Yes," you barely got out.

You were barely holding on yourself, the tingling up your spine and your muscles going solid made it almost impossible for you to move anymore, but Jayce's bouncing kept the pace going.

A string of curses fell from Jayce's mouth as he gripped the base of his cock and pumped it a few times, that was all he needed to release the spurts of cum from him.

The moans and whimpers that Jayce made was enough to throw you over the edge, your hips thrusted wildly as you clenched around the dildo, your head going dizzy with euphoria.

Jayce watched your jaw fall open and the most beautiful sounds leave your throat, he never wanted to forget them, he only wished it was him that made you sound like that.

When the cloud of ecstasy faded, you removed the device and put it in the cleaning bag you'd brought with you.

Jayce cleaned up the mess he'd made on his own abdomen whilst you pulled your pants back on, the silence wasn't uncomfortable although it was obvious that you both wanted to address what had just happened, but neither of you wanted to be the first one to speak.

You picked up his clothes and handed them to him, "I'll see you in the morning," you caressed his cheek and he leaned into your palm with a soppy smile and puppy dog eyes that could melt your heart.

Things would be different in the morning. You weren't sure by how much, or for better or worse, but you knew everything would change now.

[ramp-it-up]

You’ve Got Me Thinking

Summary: James Bucky Barnes WAS an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. It's the holidays. What happens when Bucky seems to skip out on going to your parents home for Thanksgiving? Does he really care about you like he says he does?

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I know that I've been awol, but life has been lifing lately. This story is about Thanksgiving; A Christmas/New Year's fic featuring Steve Rogers will be posted BEFORE New Year's eve. Thank you for continuing to rock with this story. And let me know if you like it (knocking the rust off, and I hope you do!)

This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after Dessert or Disaster. It is in answer to this ask.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Smut directly below the cut! Oral (female receiving) implications of a blow job, cancelling plans, hurt feelings, traveling to family for the holidays. Bucky is full of surprises, sneaking around, voice kink, humiliation kink, praise kink, use of Daddy, sex in a game room, fingering, a light slap, slight choking, backshots on a pool table, breeding kink, creampie, raw p in v (wrap it up, folks), use of google translate Romanian. Not Beta'd. All errors my own.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

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The Saturday before Thanksgiving, Bucky Barnes feasted on his favorite food. 

You.

“Remember. Let me hear your sounds, Frumoasă.”

Bucky murmured it against your thigh, inhaling your rich scent. 

His thumbs were at your apex, separating your wet, swollen folds and marveling at the way the moonlight highlighted your body.

“These lips glistening in the moonlight. So, so, so, beautiful.”

You arched your back as Bucky delivered kitten kisses up your thigh with each ‘so.’ You clamped your lips together and moaned, causing Bucky to reach up and tug your chin down, momentarily shoving his fingers inside your mouth. 

“Do you want me to eat this pretty pussy out or not?”

His voice made you shudder.

“Yessss. Please Jamie!”

You reached down and tangled your fingers in his hair, grinding on air, trying to entice him to finish his meal.

“Then let. Me. Hear. You.”

Buck slapped your jaw lightly, squeezed your throat momentarily and flicked each of your nipples as his hand journeyed back down to hold you open for him.

“Okayyyy. Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky’s heart started beating faster and his cock jumped, spilling more precum onto the sheets. His long fingers gripped your hips as he shook his head and descended toward your empty, clenching cunt.

His tongue slid through you, separating your lower lips and causing your hips to buck up off the bed.

“Ohhhhhhhh!”

Bucky stopped and smiled down at your pussy.

“That’s it,” He pinned your juicy thighs down with his large hands. “Give me your sounds Baby Girl.”

You started keening as he suckled your clit. You brought both hands down to grip his hair as he thoroughly and skillfully ate your pussy.

“Taste like fucking heaven. Every single ti—.”

He mumbled it against your cunt until you cut him off by mindlessly grinding your pelvis in his face. At this point, you were all feelings, no thoughts.

“Fuck, Jamie! I’m gonna—”

Just then, Bucky inserted two fingers inside you and curled them just at the right angle to have your thighs trembling around his head. 

“Oh shit… Jamesss, I—”

All of a sudden, you tried pushing him away as you started squirting, but he was immovable, continuing to lick, suck, and sip at you until you were a screaming, sobbing mess.

Bucky moved and lay beside you to take in your blissed out face and play with one of your curls as you came back to earth. He was catching his breath, and marveling at your beauty and how much he loved you. Yes, he was hard as a rock, but he would take his pleasure soon. 

He was determined to be worthy of this love. He needed to tell you his plan.

Your eyes fluttered open and you grinned up at him.

“That was too much. You’re so mean to me.”

Bucky grinned, chest puffed out because he knew that you meant the opposite. 

“Unh hunh. So why are you smiling?”

You tried to stop. 

“I’m not…”

“Sure. Whatever you say. C’mere. I gotta tell you something.”

“Why don’t you let me tell you something? I’ll speak into the mic.”

You reached for his cock and well, who was Bucky to argue with your perfect little hands taking hold of him?

—--

Later, after getting cleaned up and on fresh linens, Bucky finally told you what he’d been meaning to all night.

“Frumoasă, There has to be a slight change of plans. I can’t fly down to Hilton Head with you tomorrow. I will try to make it for Thanksgiving…”

You froze in his arms, the contented vibe you shared shattered. You leaned up on your elbow, the raised eyebrow making Bucky stop talking. You looked pissed. 

“You promised…”

It was all planned out. This was the big “meet the parents moment.” Your parents had retired to Hilton Head after years of Brooklyn winters. Holidays had been spent in South Carolina for the last 10 years. 

In your mind, this was the next big step. In Bucky’s mind, he still had work to do.

Your anxiety spiked sky high. You began to doubt that Bucky was as into you as you thought. Maybe he was just selling you a dream after all. 

Bucky sat up, sheet pooling around his waist and the moonlight which streamed in from his floor to ceiling windows highlighted the ridges of his abs. Your eyes followed those muscles up to his handsome face, the rueful look on it, and his disheveled curls.

He was so hot. Instead of caving, you shook yourself out of your lust for him to sit up and cover yourself with the bedclothes. 

Bucky glanced at your arm holding the bedding against you like a shield and frowned. He knew that it was the beginning of shutting yourself off from him. 

He sighed.

“Frumoasa, I know that I promised I would go to your parents home for Thanksgiving, and I will try to still be there. But I also promised that I would go legit. For us. That is more important right now.”

Bucky’s own anxiety had increased the closer the holidays came. He wasn’t good enough, not clean enough to meet your parents yet.

“Steve and I are speeding up the timeline to divest of as many… unconventional businesses as we can…”

“So that’s why he’s in Atlanta? What kind of business is he offloading there?”

Bucky was silent and you just nodded, pulling the sheet off of him and standing up to wrap it around you, not allowing him to see your nakedness, nor caring about his.

“I’ve got to go pack.”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as you got dressed and you stiffened as he came behind you and tried to touch your arms. He dropped his hands when you did that and although you couldn't see it, you knew that his face fell.

It was evident in the way his voice cracked.

“I’m not abandoning you, Frumoasă; I love you.”

You turned and looked at him then. Bucky’s sea blue eyes bore into yours. You almost melted. Almost. Instead you wiped away a tear and Bucky’s wrecked look turned into devastation. You lifted your chin.

“I love you too, James.” 

You sighed. 

”Maybe this is good. We need some space.”

Bucky didn’t try to touch you again, even though he just wanted to take you in his arms again. Instead, he just moved to pull on some sweats and a hoodie.

"I don’t ever need space from you. But I'll give it to you if you need it." 

You were in Bucky’s arms before you knew it. 

"In a minute."

You tried not to register how good it was by closing your eyes, as if that could erase all of the emotion and love you felt for Bucky in such a short time. But you were doubting if he truly felt the same way. He kissed you on the cheek and his fingers trailed along the side of your face to turn it toward him.

"Listen. This is me and you. I know you don't want to hear this right now, but you are number one. I'm just trying to get my life right for you before we go further. You are everything to me."

You tried not to drown in the deep pools of Bucky’s eyes.

"You and me both being stubborn as fuck help the situation, but something's gotta give."

You felt like the room was spinning around you two.

“I just wish that you would trust me and give me you."

“You have me.”

Bucky smiled and gave you a chaste peck on the lips.

“Okay… We’ll talk about that later, but now, let’s get you home so you can pack.”

Your outrageous pride prevented you from changing your mind and staying. His prevented him from asking you to stay. 

So Bucky drove you home.

—--

On the flight down to the island, you couldn’t help but think of the private jet you were supposed to fly in with Bucky. You had hoped for some private mile high times, but Instead you flew commercial, first class thanks to Bucky.

Your man was crisscrossing the country to tie up loose ends. Sam and Steve and Nat were doing the same. They all seemed to have a renewed sense of urgency.

You looked down at your phone at the numerous texts from your Bucky. You sighed and felt bad at your attitude. He was doing this for you. 

You still missed him like hell, though.

—--

Your mood lifted as the balmy air of the barrier island greeted you at the airport. When you saw your cousin waiting for you at baggage claim with a giant sign with your name on it, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face.

She almost knocked you over with the force of her hug.

“I’m so glad to see you! It’s been foreverrrrr!”

She looked around you as you gave her a bear hug.

“Where is the hunk? Rabbit?”

You cocked your head at her.

“Rabbit? Do you mean Bunny? What the fuck is wrong with you! It’s not Bunny, its Bucky, Bitch!” 

You couldn’t breath, you were laughing so hard.

“He’s good. Gotta work. But we’re back together now. Let’s go get something to drink before I face the parentals.”

Your cousin laughed and shook her head, then headed to your favorite spot on the island.

—-

"What is Bunny doing now?"  

You rolled your eyes at your cousin’s joke.

"I do not know. He's all the way in Chicago. The last time he texted me, he told me he was grabbing some food. I'm gonna let him live..."  

You tried to play it off, to seem unconcerned.

"Ummmhmmm.  And when was the last time he texted you?" 

The question came as your phone buzzed.

You blushed as you grabbed your phone. 

"Well, before this,10 minutes ago."  

you looked down at her phone at a pic of Bucky with his mouth full of shawarma and silhouetted by Lake Michigan.

Next time I see you I’m going to eat you like this.

You smiled down at the pic. You wanted to text him back, but hadn't in a couple of hours.  He'd kept texting, determined to keep communicating with you. You loved this man.

"What...?" 

Your cousin was saying something to you but you weren't paying attention.

"Are you mad at him?"  

She had that look on her face. Damn, she’d known you too long. Your entire life.

"I don't know, maybe a little bit? Disappointed is what I am. I wanted him to be with me. I miss his stupid face!"  

“When is the wedding?”

“Shut up!”

You smiled down at his pic again.

“No one is even thinking about all that.”

Except every night that you fell asleep in his arms. And every morning when you reached for him, whether he was with you or not. Bucky had you thinking about your life, your house, your kids. You cleared your throat.

“Enough about me. What is up with you? You look good. And relaxed.”

She looked deeply into your eyes and smirked. She knew you too well. You might as well have been sisters rather than cousins, the way you grew up so close. But she didn’t press you at the moment. 

“Yeah, well. I’m not working two jobs anymore. I can concentrate on dancing and teaching.”

“What? Did you get an angel investor or something?”

Your cousin’s dream had been dance, but after she was injured, it was to open a dance studio. It had been a struggle for a while to find the funds.

A look flashed across her face.

“You could say that. Let’s just say I received a one time donation to the Peach Preserve Dance Studio.”

“What are you even talking about cousin?”

She just grinned back at you, as circumspect as you were.

"Nothing at all except I'm about to fuck this creme brulee french toast and bottomless mimosas..." 

“Now you’re speaking my language!”

—-

Four days later, Bucky’s hand hovered over the door to your parents’ expansive beach house at the hour Thanksgiving dinner was to be served, but he didn’t make contact. He started to turn around, but Steve was blocking his escape route.

“Don’t be such a fucking jerk. You can do this.”

“I’m gonna. Punk.”

Bucky glared at Steve over his shoulder. 

Steve raised his eyebrow at his best friend. He nodded at the door. 

“Go get your girl and talk to her parents, asshole. Get started on your life, jerk.”

Bucky’s heart was hammering against his ribs. Years of mob life, fights and worse, and he was sweating like a teenager about to see his crush and meet her parents. Just the thought of forever with you made him feel faint. 

He wasn’t scared of wanting it; he was scared that you wouldn’t want it too. 

Bucky took a deep breath and decided to man up just as the door swung open before he could knock. An older man’s grinning face appeared. 

“Well what do we have here? You two gentlemen lost?”

Bucky’s response caught in his throat, but Steve caught the gleam in the man’s eye. He had a feeling this man knew exactly who Bucky was.

Steve was right, Ray and Karen had thoroughly researched James Buchanan Barnes when you told them about him. They weren’t impressed with what they found out, but Ray thought that the fact that he was standing in front of their house at this moment took balls. Mostly because he knew his stepdaughter.

“Hello Mr. Y/LN. My name is Bucky.”

“What the hell is a Bucky?”

Steve had to laugh at Ray rattling his best friend’s cage, but was rewarded with another glare.

“Let me start again. My name is James Barnes. Bucky is short for Buchanan. My middle name. My friends call me Bucky.”

Bucky had straightened up and extended his hand although at this point, Ray was leaning against the doorframe, letting Bucky twist in the wind as he rambled. Then, the door opened wider.

A gorgeous older woman appeared beside what must have been her husband. Steve looked her up and down. She must have been your mother. He elbowed Bucky in the side. Bucky wanted to beat him over the head with the flowers in his hand, but your mother began to address him.

“Barnes? So you are the young man who has our little girl all caught up? Are those flowers for Y/N?”

Bucky gave one of his gorgeous smiles, finally remembering how to charm a woman.

“No ma’am. They’re for you.”

Karen’s exacting gaze took in Bucky and Steve, but especially Bucky. A gleam came into her eyes as he handed her the bouquet.

“Thank you James. Nice touch. It’s about time you came to get her. I was beginning to lose faith in you.”

She grinned and winked at Bucky while pulling him into the house where Bucky and Steve were enveloped in the warmth of your parents home and the smell of turkey throughout the house. All of Bucky’s senses sharpened when he heard your voice. 

“Ma, where do you want these—” 

You froze in the kitchen doorway. 

“Holy–.”

Bucky didn’t bother to hide his reaction to you. Steve smirked, Ray rolled his eyes and Karen beamed while you melted. Bucky had an audience but he didn’t give a damn.

You were absolutely gorgeous. Your light sweater dress hugged every lush curve of you. Hair was escaping your messy bun and those eyes went wide, your lips parting in surprise. 

“James?”

 “Hey Frumoasă.” 

—-

You very nearly dropped the bowl of food in your hand when you saw Bucky standing in the foyer. Here he was, with his broad shoulders and lean muscle under a black leather jacket.

His jaw was dusted with that sexy black and grey stubble that you loved to feel between your legs so much and those eyes made your knees go weak. You sighed, nearly whimpering.

This was your man. And he came for you.

What a man. 

 “Hey Frumoasă.” 

Before you could stop yourself, you handed the food to your cousin and ran to Bucky. He caught you and wrapped his strong arms around you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here,” you managed to whisper into his neck, trying not climb him like a tree in front of everyone. You felt him shiver and you pulled back to gaze into Bucky’s eyes as almost everyone else stared at you two. 

“You look good, Baby.”

To Bucky, that was the understatement of the year. You looked amazing and all he wanted was his lips on you but given the circumstances, he reverted to kissing your hand, the move that made you fall for him. It was your turn to shiver, which caused him to grin, then make space between you two as he looked at your parents and the rest of your family who were watching the scene with rapt attention.

Except for one cousin and Steve, you had an audience but Bucky was more concerned about making his own impression. 

“Is the invitation to dinner still open?” 

You just smiled in response as your mother cleared her throat. 

“Of course the invitation is still open. You and your friend have a seat at our table any time.”

“Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. YLN. I really appreciate it.”

“Where is Steve?” you asked, looking around. 

Your cousin was missing as well. Before anyone went to look, Steve entered from the hallway, looking a bit flustered.

“Needed to use the facilities.”

Your cousin entered from the kitchen with a too-bright smile. You narrowed your eyes at her as she entered with another dish. Before you could say anything, Bucky grabbed your hand to head to the dining room.

—-

“Can you pass the turkey? Y/N?”

You were busy clenching your thighs together under the table. Bucky hadn’t even touched you, but just the sight of his shoulders in the black cashmere sweater and of that tongue poking out to lick his lips periodically was causing your pussy to drip.

Not to mention the fact that the way your man was now charming the socks off your parents was the sexiest thing ever.

Bucky’s thighs spread and touched yours and you glanced at him.

“Y/N?”

Bucky was staring at you like he owned you as he rolled his sleeves up on the black sweater he was wearing. Those forearms got you even wetter. When you looked up at his piercing eyes and his ticked jaw, you were about to ask him to fuck you over the table. 

Those lips quirked up into a half-smirk, reading you like a book. You squirmed and licked your lips.

“What? Oh. Sorry, Ma…”

You passed the plate to your mother as Bucky continued to stare at you. His lips moved and your head felt swimmy. 

“Huh?”

Your cousin scoffed and Steve grumbled; your mother tittered and Bucky repeated himself.

“Pass the potatoes?”

Bucky’s voice was pure sex, and he may have well said, ‘suck my dick?’ because now you were ready to hit the floor. 

Lord, you needed to get it together.

You passed the dish to Bucky and the way the electricity jolted you when your fingers touched was about to set your clit on fire.

“Thanks, Frumoasă.”

“Now, what exactly does that mean, James? What are you calling my baby?”

Bucky chuckled and began to explain what the pet name meant and went on to talk about his childhood in Romania. While he engaged in genteel conversation with your parents, his hand dropped under the table, landing on your leg. He grasped it, firm and demanding. He pulled your leg away from the other, opening you wide for him.

Evil, evil man.

His hand moved higher, as you checked to see if anyone noticed anything. Your cousin looked sullen, moving the food around her plate while sneaking glances at Steve, who mirrored her countenance. 

You are about to ask a question as Bucky’s fingers move even higher, his thumb becoming dangerous. His fingers reached the edge of your panties and that’s when you realized that this man’s plan was to make you cum in front of your family. 

You coughed to cover a moan as you checked for your parents, who seemed to be listening intently to Bucky. 

He, your devil boyfriend, was smiling in their direction, but you knew that it was meant just for you. You decided to fight fire with fire and move your hand down to his thigh, fingernails scratching through his black slacks.

Bucky hesitated, then cleared his throat as he shot you a look. You smiled angelically at him and took a bite of food. He cleared his throat and went back to his story just as you found what you were looking for. 

The steel rod in Bucky Barnes’ pants.

Bucky dropped his fork and bent over toward you to get it.

“Behave, Frumoasă.”

“I will if you will.”

Bucky shook his head and straightened up, taking his hand away as your mother appeared at his side to trade his dirty fork with a shiny new one. Bucky smiled innocently yet kept his leg pressed up against yours. 

He turned your way again and whispered, “Later.”

It was one word, but it held volumes of filthy promise; so much so that your appetite changed instantly.

—--

Bucky was fitting right in with your loud, loving family. And you were loving it, because it allowed you to see that he was really trying to fit into your life. As dinner was ending, your mother extended another invitation. 

“Why don’t you and Steven stay here until you leave Sunday? You are staying until Sunday, aren’t you, James?” 

Your mother’s arched eyebrow was just like yours, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. 

You looked between the two and then at Ray when both of your shook your heads; your mom loved James Barnes. You bit your lip to think of the harassment you would receive if you ever broke up.

Bucky looked at you when he was offered and he read your eyes. Something about being under the same roof with you 24/7 was intriguing to both of you.

“Yes, we are staying until Sunday.”

Bucky reached for your hand. You smiled wide at him.

“I’d love nothing more, Karen, but Steve and I have booked rooms at the Surf Song Inn…”

Steve caught Bucky’s glance and shrugged.

“Seems like staying here might be fun.”

You thought you saw your cousin make a face out of the corner of your eye, but when you looked more closely, her face was normal. But she wasn’t happy.

“All the rooms are taken!”

Karen cut her a look.

“My niece is right, but of the 8 bedrooms, we can make space. She can bunk with Y/N, and you and Steve can bunk together.”

“Fantastic,” your cousin intoned, sagging in her seat.

“Wonderful,” Steve deadpanned.

You just giggled nervously. This was going to be interesting.

—--

It was after midnight when you creeped downstairs. Every creak in the hallways made your heart race. Everyone was asleep, including your cousin/roomate, so there should have been nothing to worry about. But when you reached the bottom step of the basement stairs landing, you were grabbed and pulled against a hard chest and a hand clamped over your mouth.

“Gonna have to be quiet, Y/N.”

Bucky growled it against your ear.

“Think you can do that while I fuck this perfect fucking pussy?”

You whimpered in response and nodded your head.

“Good girl.”

But he didn’t release his hold on your face, instead his other hand traveled down your body and inside your sweats to cup your cunt.

“No panties, huh? ”

Your nipples were sharp, aching tips of nerve endings at this point. 

“Been hard as fuck, thinking about you in that dress today, Frumoasa. Love this body, your ass, these tits.”

He nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. 

“I love how wet you get for me, the smell of you, everything about you. Fuck!”

Bucky lifted his now wet fingers to his face to taste you, then slipped them into your mouth. You obediently accepted it, proceeding to wantonly suck your juices off Bucky’s fingers.

“Suchhhh a good, naughty little slut for me. In your parent’s house. You are mine, aren’t you?”

You whimpered again as you nodded vigorously, as his other hand squeezed the sides of your throat and his finger fucked into you again.

“You’re fucking soaked, sweetheart. Who did that to you? Wanna cum for me?”

“You Daddy. Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky moaned quietly at your furtive whisper and slipped three fingers inside you, fucking you expertly. You were almost lifted off of the ground.

“Love the sounds you make, Frumoasă, but you’ve got to stay quiet.”

He moved his hand back over your face, which ignited your blood even more.

“Just like that. Cum for me. But not a sound.”

You started shaking all over and Bucky sped up, unrelenting until he achieved his goal.

“Give it to me.”

You felt all of your joints lock up as you moaned and cursed behind his hand. Your lover held a bucking bronco in his arms as you rode over that crest and then came down again.

“Holy shit, Sweetheart. That was so hot.”

Bucky kissed the side of your neck and then whispered, “Ready for more?”

“Fuck yes…”

He walked you to the pool table and bent you over it, which allowed you to rest your head on your arms and watch him pull his sweats down so that his fat cock sprung free. You licked your lips as he started stroking.

“D’you see? I’m so gotdamn hard for you, Baby doll. Spread those perfect legs for me. Gotta get into that tight, wet, cunt.”

You did as you were told and went up on your tiptoes because of Bucky’s height.

“Ah, yessss. That fucking…archhhhhh…”

Bucky’s ardent whisper was in sync with the time it took him to plunge into your wetness in one stroke.

“So. Fucking. Big, Jamie!”

Bucky covered you with his torso as he leaned over you with steady, relentless strokes.

“It’s cause I know how warm, how tight, how fucking good this pussy is. Got so much cum for you Frumoasa….fuckkkkkk….”

He leaned back and bent his knees, causing his cock to brutally brush your g spot on the way to your cervix. This time you put your own hands over your mouth.

“Fucking right. You know what’s about to happen. I’m about to cum inside you so hard and so much. It’s gonna drip out of you.”

He leaned back over you again.

“What if I get you pregnant in your parent’s house?”

You choked on the possibility and your vision went white as your pussy clamped down around his cock. You hoped that no one heard the frantic sounds of skin slapping on skin as Bucky chased his high, and both of your muffled groans.

You practically passed out on the pool table as Bucky slumped into one of the theater chairs.

You opened your eyes, looked over at him and then burst out into giggles which you tried to stifle as you lead him to the gameroom restroom. You got as cleaned up as you could.

Bucky raided the bar refrigerator and handed you a water bottle. 

“This is for your thirst, ma’am.”

You rolled your eyes, but took the bottle.

“Fuck you, Bucky.”

“Hey! That’s the first time you’ve called me that.”

Bucky folded you into his arms, his grin blinding.

“Well, Now that you’ve met the folks, something’s a little different. I feel that we’ve turned a corner? I feel more at ease? Y’know?”

Bucky just stared and you looked down and shook your head.

“It sounds silly. All the things we’ve done.”

His fingers lifted your chin and allowed him to look deep into your eyes.

“Not silly at all. It’s what I’ve hoped for. That you would trust me completely, feel this comfortable with us. And it happened just in time.”

“Just in time for what?”

Bucky was now pulling you toward the stairs.

“Nevermind that now, time to get you back to your room before your mother gets the shotgun out.”

“But, Buck—”

Bucky cut you off with a finger to his lips and you shut your mouth. You were perturbed, but when he kissed you goodnight in front of your door, you kinda forgot about that a little bit.

Turns out your cousin was awake.

“You whore.”

You threw a pillow at her on the way to the bathroom, a giant grin on your face.

—--

The next morning, you rose early to make breakfast. As you descended the stairs, you found Steve in the living room on his laptop.

“Morning, Friend.”

“Morning.”

Steve practically growled it. You wondered who harshed his mellow. But before you got to ask, your parents came down the stairs, dressed to go out.

“Where are you two headed?”

Karen and Ray looked at each other. 

“We have a coffee date.”

You grinned at them.

“You two are so cute. Even after 25 years!”

The older couple shared another look. Bucky came downstairs, ready to go.

“Morning.”

He came over and gave you a chaste kiss on he forehead, as if he hadn’t delivered you immaculate backshots in the basement last night.

“Morning! Where are you going?”

You glanced at Steve who smirked and shrugged.

“I’m taking your mom and Ray to coffee.”

You crossed your arms and cocked your hip.

“And I’m not invited?”

“No. You are not.”

Bucky kissed your cheek this time and winked as he went out of the door. Ray grinned at you and your mother squeezed your shoulder.

“We won’t be long, honey.”

And just like that, your boyfriend stole your parents from you. You gaped at Steve who just stared at his laptop screen.

“What just happened?”

The voice came from behind you. Your cousin was descending the stairs, still in her night clothes.

“You know what just happened. Why would the man you’re dating want to talk to your parents alone? I think you know the answer.”

It hit you like a freight train. Bucky was going to ask your mom and Ray… Holy shit!

“I need some air.”

“I bet you do.”

You hurried to the back patio, gulping air to fend off a coming panic attack.

----

Please reblog if you enjoyed it!

[quitesins]

Pro Hero!Bakugou x Criminal!Reader 2

Masterlist | Part One

Tags: Sfw, Drabble?, Pro Hero!Bakugou, Criminal!Reader, Female!reader, Reader has short hair, reader’s hair can be carded through, Mentions of dried blood [in hair], this is kinda gross 😭

Another scenario in the same universe as this drabble, not chronologically linked but better to read the first one, since I forwent adding the contextualising details on this one…

“Can I take these?”

You’re in his office, twirling around some scissors he’s told you multiple times to put down already.

“So you can go out and gut someone in the street? Piss off.” Dynamight takes the scissors from you himself, setting them back on his desk like you won’t just grab it again.

“No.” You of course do reach out for the scissors. You’re hesitant to say why, the words coming out in murmur. “…wanna cut my hair.”

“What?” Dynamight prods.

You repeat yourself, sinking further into your clothes.

Dynamight stills where he’d been typing away, his head turns to give you a look over. He’d seen you so often in the past months, the growth of your hair snuck up on him too. But it is distinctly longer. Enough so that it pushes out your hoodie and curls around your cheeks. He could probably tuck it behind your ears if he wanted.

“It grew.” Dynamight says plainly.

“Yeah no shit.” You snatch the scissors quickly. Dynamight notes how visceral your reaction is. “So can I take them?”

“You just gonna hack at it?” His eyes don’t leave how tightly you hold onto the scissors, like it means something more than just a tool to get the hair out your face.

“Yeah, so?”

Dynamight presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek in thought. He sighs, having already made his decision.

“Sit down.” Up from his seat he ushers you to the one across his desk. You don’t listen, confused and wary. “I ain’t gonna get you, sit.”

You take seat, disliking that he now stands behind you. Your fingers are still harsh around the scissors so when he reaches out, he has to practically pry them before you remember to let go.

“Take your hood off.”

You turn and give him a scowl, but pull the hood down anyways. Your hair feels a mess and you’re scared it’s matted in the places you’ve let it grow too long. You wonder if Dynamight thinks you’re disgusting for it.

“Gonna touch your hair, aight?” Dynamight doesn’t sound anymore pissed than he normally does, the familiar gruffness comforting.

When his hands touch your hair, you sense it instantly. It’s uncomfortable and vulnerable and you feel stupid for even sitting down. Still, you let him inspect it, trying your best to show no weakness.

“You’ve got blood in it.”

“What?” You flip round too fast, before he can let go, so it tugs when you turn. You frown.

“Dumbass.” He snorts, showing you the dried blood that scratched off onto his fingers. “The fuck do you have blood in your hair for.”

Dynamight watches as your eyes shift in thought and worry.

“It’s not yours.” If it was, he’d drag you to the infirmary himself. Dynamight might not like you, but he is still a hero.

“I’m not sure.” You really aren’t. It could be anyone’s at this point. You just want it off. “Cut it.”

Dynamight scoffs and pushes the scissors so it slides further down his desk. You’ll have to get up if you want it. “Just wash it out. M’not ruining your hair over a little blood.”

“Stop touching it!” It’s a childish shriek when he pulls more from your hair. “It’s gross!”

“It’s in your hair.” Dynamight continues to comb it out, letting it fall to his office floor. You’ve seen him covered in blood and grime, soaked in it, but for some reason you feel embarrassed to let him touch the dirt form you. “Fucking nasty.”

You try to pull away but his large hand is on your shoulder. There’s something terrifying about how easily he keeps you in place.

It mildly hurts when Dynamight tugs at your hair, untangling the knots that you can hear come apart. You can tell he’s being gentle though, which makes you worry a little more.

It takes a few minutes for his fingers to be able to card through your hair. Not fully as you hiss when the smaller knots get caught, but his hands no longer pull your entire head when they move.

Dynamight lets out a contented hum, a weird sound that feels quietly smug, and pulls away to reach for some wipes on his desk. He throws you one and when it lands on your face he doesn’t hide his amusement.

“It’s a shower.” With his hands occupied, he uses his chin to nod to the second door in his office. “Get that shit out your hair.” He’s already walking over to the cupboard where he keeps his towels, not giving you chance to disagree. “I’ll cut it for you.”

It takes a second for your brain to catch up, you’re curious when you look up at him. “You know how to cut hair?” You look over his own. Through all his chaotic blonde spikes, it does somehow look uniform.

“Let someone else touch my shit? Fuck no.” Dynamight huffs like it’s something obvious and throws you the towel. He points to the bathroom door a final time. “Now, go.”

———

When you leave through the fire escape, dropping down to the shaded street below, your hair is much shorter, almost buzzed. It’s cold. But this time the biting air of winter feels like a blessing on your skin.

Was this mildly inspired by the fact I got a tiny bit of nail polish in my hair and it was a fucking chore to get out? No, of course not.

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

38. feeling feelings (written)

prev // m.list // next

As cliché as it sounds, before meeting you, Yeonjun never actually thought about the consequences of his actions. After the incident with Minho, he only cares about having a good time and surrounding himself with pleasure and excitement so he could drown his pain. At some point, he actually stopped feeling hurt and started enjoying the parties, the drinks, and the girls. All the attention and praise he got made him feel part of everyone else, as if he was no longer an outsider. However, at the same time, all of that made him seem unreachable for most people. It was perfect; he got to enjoy the mundanity of it all while protecting himself from yet another heartbreak. But then it wasn't...

Meeting you is the best thing that could have happened to him. Yes, you were broken, but you both have been trying to build each other back up and make something real out of it. He's happy. When he's with you he forgets the past, and then it reaches him and makes him doubt. His insecurities drag him down and scream at him how he's not enough. He wasn't enough back then and he's even worse now.

"Wanna talk about it?" You ask while running your fingers through his hair, something you just learned helps him relax.

"I have to." His voice is merely above a whisper but is enough to make you shiver. Sure, you've cuddled and shared a bed before, but he's never exactly been this close to you. Every breath he takes tickles your neck and makes you want to have him even closer.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want."

"I do want to tell you but for now let me stay like this a little longer." He feels so small and yet so safe. Has he ever been held like this? Maybe his bar is also on the floor.

"Whatever you need."

He wakes up in the middle of the night without being able to remember when he fell asleep. Your arms are still around him and you're still playing with his hair.

"Why are you still awake?"

"I'm not tired, it's not even midnight." He can hear the smile. "Had a good nap?"

"Absolutely, you're the best pillow ever." He wraps his arms around your waist and brings your bodies closer.

"Charming as ever, I see."

You stay like that for a little while, just bathing in each other's presence and warmth. He's scared to even breathe too loud and bursting this bubble of peace and comfort. He has to, though.

"I'm sorry," he starts and before you can protest he continues. "I know you think I don't have to apologize but I need to. You've been going through some messed up shit because of me and you don't deserve to. And maybe you didn't want to make me feel bad or whatever but you should've told me.

I'm not mad, though. If anything I just feel grateful that you thought about me even in that overwhelming situation. But this also made me realize how much more you deserve. I can't change my past and I can't promise you people are just gonna leave us alone, they have the right to feel whatever they're feeling after all.

What I can promise is that I'll do everything in my power to make you feel confident in this relationship. You have nothing to worry about. I'll try even harder."

"Yeon-"

"Please, let me finish. I'll make us work. But, if you have already decided this is too much and you don't wanna go through the hassle I also understand that. You didn't sign up for this kind of harassment after all. I'll stay away if that's what you want. I'll even give you space to think about it."

He sounds so defeated. He told you he had issues, you just didn't realize how deep his insecurities run.

"There's nothing to think about," your voice remains calm. "I want to be with you. It's not a hassle and you're not too much. I'll be happy to walk with you and make this work."

He doesn't say anything, he just buries his face in the crook of your neck and holds you even tighter. He even sheds some tears but you don't notice, and if you do you don't comment on it. Is this what love feels like?

notes:

I love them so much

beomgyu adores yn because she makes yeonjun happy but he's never saying that out loud

taglist: (30/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano

[chickenkurage]

(TAWW!Week) DAY 2: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Cursor Alan AU

Summary: Alan is very easy to fool, they just don't know to what extent...

Tag/s: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Broken Bones, Major Injuries

Alan, in short, was not accustomed to living as a stick figure. Most importantly, he didn't know what was good for him and what wasn't. While it was better as a cursor, he could easily access knowledge from around the world. Now, he no longer had access to those kinds of things.

He could no longer simply summon a book or retrieve his notes where he had been jotting down his thoughts and other information about the other hollowheads.

In essence, he was prone to believing things that were sometimes not real.

And the gang had been having too much fun with that. It was all in good fun, really. Alan was always a bit naive and overly trusting. Second wasn't always around to keep his friends in check.

"Did you know that if you bite your toe, you'll be able to levitate?" Green said, lying on his stomach as Blue chuckled. "Really?" Alan perked up, resting on Blue's legs, his hair messy as Blue worked on tying and styling his own hair.

"Yup," Green confirmed, winking at Yellow, who shook his head and chuckled, occupied with painting something in his hands. Red groaned, rubbing his eyes as he scribbled something in his book. Second had left Alan with them and instructed them to keep an eye on him in the meantime, so now they were tasked with entertaining Alan, who was easily amused.

And easy to trick.

Alan frowned and turned to look at Red. "Whahht? Ish it noht real? Shhhould I bite myh toe and thry it?" Alan asked, tilting his head. Behind him, Blue chuckled before quickly coughing to cover it up, while Yellow cleared his throat.

Green had a mischievous grin on his face. "Green," Yellow warned, his tone almost threatening, but Alan just stuck his tongue out, peering at his feet and wiggling his toes, tempted to try what Green was suggesting.

Green started giggling, glancing at Yellow, who shot him a glare that could almost wither any living being in sight. "Green," Yellow growled, his tone serious, making Green pout.

"I was just kidding," Green said with a shrug. "You can't bite your— Alan, don't bite your toes!" Green yelped as Blue laughed, watching Alan struggle to bite his toes, with Yellow and Green attempting to stop him, while Red shook his head.

. . . .

"Alan is really easy to fool. Next time I see you four messing with him," Chosen said, pointing at each of them before clenching his fist. Green awkwardly laughed, his face pale. "I didn't mean to—" Green started, but Yellow forced him to bow, pushing Green's head down.

"He meant it," Yellow added as Blue snickered.

Chosen raised a brow at them before chuckling and rolling his eyes. "Next time, be careful. He tends to believe things that are just plain impossible," Chosen warned, giving them all a stern look.

Green pouted, scratching his cheek. "Aye aye, captain," he replied, mock saluting as Chosen tousled his hair with a laugh.

"Choooo! Wahnt to go outshide," Alan said, peeking from the side, grabbing Chosen's shoulders and shaking him, a pout on his face as they all groaned.

"But we just went outside earlier," Red added as Alan pouted, lying on the floor and stretching his arms and legs, nearly kicking Yellow in the process before letting out a yawn.

"Outshhide?" Alan asked again, looking at Chosen, who sighed. "Not outside," Chosen corrected, wagging a finger as Alan whined. "You can go out with Agent," Vic chimed in, walking past the living room, carrying two boxes in his arms.

Agent followed, holding four. "Yeah, if you want," he added as Alan perked up, quickly pushing himself up with his arms.

"Reallyyyy?" Alan exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement as he got to his feet, stumbling slightly as he ran towards Agent, who chuckled under his breath.

"Alright, let me get the boxes in my truck, then I can drive you to the park," Agent said, walking out of the house. Vic dropped the boxes at the back of the truck as Chosen reminded Alan to wear shoes before they left.

"You two going out?" Vic asked, dusting his hands as Agent hummed, carefully placing the boxes on the back of his truck before closing it.

"Yeah, I'll meet up with the others. They can talk with Alan. I know Ballista has been wanting to do that," Agent said, stifling a chuckle when he saw Alan whining as Chosen fitted a large jacket over his body and zipped it up.

"Noooo," Alan whined, walking towards Vic and tugging at his jacket, letting out an annoyed grumble.

"You need that because while it's not exactly snowing, we don't want you getting sick again," Vic reminded, fixing the zipper and zipping it up.

Alan only pouted as Agent chuckled. "Come on, let's get to the park. I'm sure you miss Ballista," Agent waved a hand as he climbed into his truck. He heard Alan cheer, climbing into the passenger seat with a bit of difficulty until Vic helped him up.

"Shhorry," Alan pouted as Vic buckled him into the seat, securing it before patting Alan's shoulder. "You're good to go. Don't stray from Agent, okay? Be careful, and never talk to strangers," Vic warned, glaring at Agent who just laughed.

"Don't worry, I'll watch over him," Agent assured, and Vic smiled in response. "I promishhe I wihll do all of the shhtuff youh shaid," Alan declared with a grin, and Vic rolled his eyes. "Be sure you do," Vic said, tousling Alan's hair before climbing down from the truck and shutting the door.

"You ready?" Agent asked, and Alan nodded eagerly.

. . . .

"Agent, oh and Alan as well," Primal mused, hand on her chin as Agent and Alan trudged in their direction. Agent smiled while Alan skipped excitedly, almost tripping and slipping along the way.

Luckily, Agent was always there to steady him. "Ballishhta!" Alan cheered upon spotting the smaller stick figure who waved back eagerly. "Al! Man, it's good to see you again," Ballista laughed as Alan rushed towards him.

"Ballista, can you watch over him for now? I need to get something from the truck. Primal and Hazard, you both come with me," Agent said, gesturing with his thumb towards his truck where the boxes were stacked.

"What are those?" Primal asked, following after Agent.

"Just some stuff Vic is willing to give away," Agent explained, his voice fading as Hazard ran after them.

Ballista grinned, turning towards Alan and placing a hand on his hips. "What do you want to do today?" Ballista asked as Alan tapped his chin in thought.

What did he really want to do? He was already outside, one thing checked off. Now that he was outside the house, what did he want to do next?

"Alan?" Ballista called again as Alan shrugged, pouting. "I donhh't know," Alan said, scratching his head. Ballista chuckled in response.

"That's alright, we can sit here. See?" Ballista sat down on one of the benches as Alan eagerly followed suit, a small grin on his face. Ballista watched as Alan tried to cross his legs, looking awkward due to his tall stature.

Not even Primal could cross her legs; she always had to stretch them out when sitting down.

Alan struggled a bit before giving up, lowering his feet to the ground with a slight pout as Ballista stifled a laugh with a cough. "Anything you want to talk about?" Ballista asked, tilting his head as Alan hummed.

Staring at the sky, then at the trees, the children that was running around before back at Ballista and shaking his head.

"Not a man of many words, eh? I understand. Vic said you still have trouble talking and your throat hurts," Ballista remarked, and Alan nodded vigorously. "Hmm, I don't know what to talk about either," Ballista shrugged as Alan pouted.

The smaller stick figure hummed, his eyes wandering around the park before focusing on Alan.

"Ish it true thaht if I jump offht a chair I can flyh?" Alan suddenly asked, making Ballista raise a brow. Jump off a chair? Ballista thought, feeling the urge to laugh, so instead, he let out a snort.

"Maybe... yeah, what the heck, it is real," Ballista laughed, nodding as Alan perked up. "D-Doeshh ihht have tho be only a chhhair?" Alan asked, almost bouncing with excitement.

The idea of flying again was so thrilling for him that he couldn't quite think logically about jumping off something high not equating to flying.

Thinking Alan was joking, Ballista laughed. "You can try jumping off a tree," Ballista suggested as Alan gasped with excitement. "Reallyyy?" Alan asked, turning to gaze at the tallest tree in the park.

For him, it was the tallest tree because he couldn't reach its lowest branch, considering the other trees were small due to their low branches.

"Ballista!" Primal yelled, carrying boxes in her hands. "Yeah?" Ballista replied, sitting up. "Come help us here, you goof!" Primal called out before walking away.

Rolling his eyes, Ballista said, "Don't leave, stay here, alright?" Alan nodded, watching Ballista hop off the bench and run off as fast as his little legs could carry him

Alan pouted for a moment, disappointed that their conversation had come to an end. His eyes then landed on the large tree, a grin spreading across his face as he stood up. Glancing towards where Agent's truck was parked, he saw Ballista and the others occupied with their backs turned to him.

Quickly, he dashed towards the tree, hiding behind the trunk with a soft giggle. He gasped in awe at its height before gripping the wood with his hands and placing his feet on one of the ridges.

Climbing wasn't his strong suit, but the park had provided small steps for people to ascend and use the branches as a viewpoint. Alan was certain he had seen children sitting on the lower branches before, so he believed he could do it too.

With a soft grunt, he pulled himself up, his knees bent at an awkward angle that likely tore a part of his pajamas around his knees.

Alan let out a soft whine as he ascended, settling on a branch and inspecting his knees, finding small wood chips and a little rip.

"Awwhh," Alan whined, pouting, brushing the wood chips off his knees as he slowly moved towards another branch. His legs shook slightly, the folded position feeling strange as he supported his weight, half-crawling and half-walking towards the next branch.

It didn't take long for him to reach the edge of the branch, peering down at the ground, his arms shaking with a mix of fear and excitement.

He could fly again!

Dark had said he could do it by jumping off a chair, and Ballista added that it applied to trees as well. Would it really work?

Alan grinned, wobbling slightly. He had missed his ability to fly, and now that he had a solution, he could finally do it again!

Hanging his legs off the branch, he let out a soft giggle. Turning towards where he could barely see Agent's truck, he noticed Primal talking with Hazard and Ballista struggling to carry boxes until Agent decided to help him by taking two off his load.

Alan giggled to himself, focusing instead on the ground below.

The height was so dizzying. He found himself unconsciously leaning forward before steadying himself and letting out a breathless chuckle. There was a strange, fast thumping in his chest—it was his heart.

Was his heart supposed to beat so fast? Maybe what Dark and Ballista were saying was true!

With that thought, Alan slowly slid off the branch.

. . . .

"Hey, where's Alan?" Agent asked, walking towards the bench and finding no one there. He heard Ballista run up to him, panting. "I left him there. I even explicitly said he should stay there!" Ballista exclaimed, gripping his hair in panic.

Agent narrowed his eyes, biting his lip before hearing footsteps. He turned his head and saw Alan walking towards them with a slight frown on his lips. "Creators, Alan," Agent breathed out a sigh.

Approaching the tall stick figure and placing a hand on his shoulder, Alan flinched, moving away from him, teeth gritting, left arm limp, and right hand twitching over his shoulder.

"Alan? Are you alright?" Agent asked as Alan only looked down. "Ballishhhta and Darhhk lied tshho meee," Alan pouted, sniffing slightly as Agent turned to Ballista and gave him a look.

Ballista shrugged, shaking his head in confusion.

Agent sighed, turning back to Alan, who absentmindedly rubbed his arm, wincing. "I wahhnt to gohh hhhome," Alan said, his gaze still averted, causing Agent's brow to furrow in concern.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Agent asked, his hands hovering, unsure where to touch Alan without him flinching.

Alan had always accepted touch from everyone, making it strange for him to suddenly flinch away without reason. "Mhmm, okay," Alan murmured, his voice low and hard to hear.

"Homeeee," Alan repeated, raising his head, as Agent scrutinized him. Alan looked pained, with dilated eyes, teeth scraping his lips every few seconds as if he was holding back sounds, and he appeared pale.

Sweat glistened on his face, and he seemed a bit unsteady on his feet.

Agent sensed that something was amiss–something is wrong with Alan.

"Ballista, get Primal and Hazard," Agent instructed, and Ballista nodded, darting off to fetch them while Agent guided Alan back down the bench, preventing him from toppling to the floor.

"Alan—Alan, are you with me?" Agent asked, concerned, as Alan blinked at him with a confused expression, letting out pained whimpers. "Myyyy armhh, it's hurthhing," Alan murmured, sniffing and wiping his eyes with his right arm, clearing away tears.

Agent's brow furrowed as he turned to examine Alan's left shoulder, finding nothing visibly different as he was still wearing his sweater. However, he noticed wood chips on Alan's leg and a rip in his pajamas over his knees.

"What happened, Alan?" Agent asked, reaching for Alan's left arm to roll up his sleeves. Alan let out a pained yowl, resembling a cat howling in distress.

"It hurts!" Alan growled, baring his teeth and clawing at Agent's hand with his right hand.

Agent raised both hands in a calming gesture, observing Alan cradle his left arm delicately, his complexion noticeably paler.

"Darkhh shhaid I could flyyy againnn, jump off a thhree," Alan mumbled, pouting. Agent's eyes widened, noticing a peculiar protrusion on Alan's shoulder. He then observed Alan's face, realizing his blinking had slowed, and he seemed to be struggling for breath.

"Damn it," Agent muttered, quickly rising to his feet. Just in time, he heard Ballista and the others rushing in. "Agent, what's wrong? Ball called us," Primal inquired as Hazard nodded.

"Call Vic. I'm taking Alan to the hospital—Alan!" Agent exclaimed as Alan collapsed off the bench, landing in Primal's arms before Agent could reach him.

. . . .

"For crying out loud! Both of you— I'm going to strangle you!" Vic growled, his fist almost clenched like a claw as Dark and Ballista leaned away, turning towards each other with sweat on their brows.

"I'm so sorry, boss. I didn't think—Fuck," Ballista moaned, dropping his head into his hands as Vic sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I didn't realize he took it seriously! That conversation was months ago when he had just turned into a stick figure," Dark argued, though he appeared angry, mostly at himself and his own foolishness.

He should have anticipated that Alan would dwell on it. The guy had mentioned missing his ability to fly; naturally, he might naively believe it could be possible by jumping from such a height.

Vic only sighed. "I understand it was an honest mistake," he began before groaning. "He broke his whole arm; it needed to be set back. He might need weeks of bed rest."

Ballista groaned as Dark muttered a curse under his breath.

[rewritingtales]

"don't  worry,  i'll  be  out  of  your  hair  by  the  beginning  of  next  month.  you  won't  even  know  that  i  was  here  in  the  first  place."  no  one  was  going  to  get  him  to  move  away  from  his  forest,  from  his  farm.  still,  it's  an  entertaining  idea  to  throw  around.  if  anyone  comes  around  here  trying  to  actually  evict  him,  vilem  might  actually  shoot  them.  he  doesn't  want  to  get  into  any  fights  though,  so  he  just  hopes  that  his  part  of  the  world  is  quiet  enough  that  they  won't  even  mess  with  him.  “you're  like  a  tortured  poet.  anyone  ever  tell  you  that?”  he  doesn't  know  which  one  exactly,  but  one  of  them  at  least.  he's  never  met  someone  so  willing  to  ostracize  himself  before  like  zeke.  almost  like  he's  hellbent  on  being  alone  and  making  sure  that  everyone  knows  it.  gosh.  who  hurt  him?  hearing  the  gasp  is  a  good  thing,  it  meant  that  he  will  still  onto  something.  hell,  it  even  manages  to  put  a  shit  eating  grin  on  the  farmer's  face.  not  only  because  his  assumption  was  right,  but  because  he  made  the  wolf  do  something  that  wasn't  sulking  around  and  moping.  very  good  indeed.  “if  you  haven't  killed  me  all  day,  i  doubt  you're  going  to  do  it  on  my  bed.  you're  not  that  much  of  a  coward  to  kill  me  in  my  sleep.”  another  assumption,  but  one  he's  even  more  confident  to  make  than  the  last  one.  he  knows  zeke,  at  least  partially.  there's  honor,  even  amongst  monsters,  and  he's  going  to  use  that  to  just  blindly  believe  that  he's  correct.  he  doesn't  even  seem  to  mind  the  ears  this  time.  “what  about  me  in  any  of  the  conversations  that  we've  had  would  lead  you  to  believe  that  i'm  a  chicken?”  he  waits  a  little  bit,  almost  challenging  him  to  give  him  an  answer.  “just  let  me  know  if  you're  going  to  need  pajamas  or  not.  i'm  sure  i  can  find  something  for  you.”  vilem  takes  off  his  pants  next,  but  then  walks  over  to  the  dresser  where  he  pulls  open  two  drawers.  then  as  quickly  as  he  takes  them  out,  he's  sliding  on  a  pair  of  shorts  and  another  tank  top.  “not  gonna  have  you  scaring  the  animals  or  rory,  so  just  come  on.”  does  that  imply  he's  no  longer  scared  of  zeke?

"yeah,  yeah.  can't  have  you  stinkin'  up  my  forest  when  i'm  doing  spring  cleaning."  zeke  huffed  out  a  little  laugh,  momentarily  tempted  to  entertain  the  idea  -  truly.  not  the  kicking  the  old  farmer  out  of  the  forest,  but  the  spring  cleaning.  get  rid  of  annoyances.  make  the  perfect  home  for  himself,  but  would  it  ever  be?  new  people  would  just  replace  those  he  got  rid  of  &  they  might  be  even  more  annoying.  the  forest  didn't  even  house  that  many  humans,  so  he  probably  shouldn't  complain.  being  called  normal,  though,  did  raise  a  brow.  "normal?  me?  doubt  it."  he  was  holding  back,  at  least  some,  trying  to  appear  as  human  as  possible  while  ...  not  trying  to  be  human.  he  was  done  trying  to  be  one  of  them.  that  phase  didn't  long  &  he  was  glad  for  it  to  be  over.  nowadays  the  only  time  he'd  try  was  for  his  own  advantage.  a  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing.  but  even  that  hasn't  been  necessary,  because  zeke  was  an  impeccable  hunter.  he  was  also  someone  who  appreciated  a  good  petting  if  the  way  he  was  leaning  into  the  other  didn't  make  it  obvious.  what  could  he  say,  it  was  in  his  dna.  that  pull  though,  surely  counted  as  an  illegal  action  &  should  be  punished  severely  for  he  made  the  wolf  gasp  like  an  idiot.  little  grumble  as  he  followed  inside,  suddenly  feeling  like  he  was  invading  a  home  he  shouldn't  be  in.  lie.  he'd  been  invited  after  all.  he  knew  he  should  be  choosing  the  third  option,  he  did,  but  the  farmer's  offer  was  simply  too  tempting  to  pass  up.  besides,  where  else  in  here  would  he  fit?  he  was  not  going  to  sleep  in  the  barn  or  something.  "sure  you  trust  me  in  your  bed?"  hm.  not  that  zeke  had  any  ulterior  moves,  he  assumed  vilem  didn't  either,  but  it  was  still  an  unexpected  offer  &  here  he  was  ...  taking  off  his  clothes  like  he  didn't  have  a  stranger  in  his  home.  unless  he  didn't  think  zeke  was  a  stranger?  why  was  everything  so  complicated  with  the  old  man?  it  was  bothersome.  zeke  followed  suit  &  took  off  his  shirt,  though  when  he  pulled  his  undershirt  over  his  head  &  his  curls  slowly  settled  again,  vilem  would  find  the  wolf's  ears  had  taken  their  natural  shape.  if  they  were  being  truthful  ..."sleeping  in  a  bed  with  rory's  a  bad  idea,  not  really  a  fan  of  the  floor,  so...  uhhhh,  if  you're  sure  you're  not  a  chicken..."

[peachiejeongin]

Back to Blue | Han Jisung

Synopsis: Jisung messages you out of the blue one day, and before you know it, you are at the Stray Kids dorm dying his hair back to blue.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Genre: established relationship, fluff, crack

Warnings: None! (Unless shirtless Jisung counts)

WC: 1.6k

Notice: My loves, this was an entirely unprompted fanfiction. I have a couple requests scheduled and I'm working on a longer fiction, so I was not going to write anything at all today. But after reading a few stories about Hyunjin's buzzcut and Felix's dark hair, I realized I had not seen many stories about the return of Bluesung on my feed; therefore, I decided to write my own!...and I may or may not have sped-wrote it in about an hour or two. Whoops! Nevertheless, enjoy the story, my darlings! (I am also attempting a new format style, so enjoy that as well!).

Divider By: @strangergraphics-archive

It started with a random text on a Saturday afternoon.

Hannie<3: Hello, my beautiful, gorgeous, amazing specimen of a partner who I love more than anything else ever! You: What do you want, Ji? Hannie<3: Sooooo, our hairstylist may or not be out sick with the flu, and your amazing boyfriend who is ALWAYS so nice to you may or may not be wanting to bring back an old hair color so....wanna come help me dye my hair blue? :D

You blinked at your phone, rereading the message over and over again as if you were trying to find a joke in the wording that you had missed; he could not be serious, could he?

You: Why not just go to an ACTUAL salon? Hannie<3: And have them mess it up? Absolutely not! You're the only one I trust with this so can you pleeeeease come do it for me?? You: Hannie, I'm going to hold your hand when I say this. You: I have never dyed anyone's hair before. Hannie<3: Boxes have instructions for a reason!

You narrowed your eyes at your phone briefly, quirking your lips into a line; you pondered the text for a moment before sighing and typing out a reply.

You: I'll be there in fifteen.

Minutes later, you were at Jisung's dorm, standing in the doorway to his bedroom with a skeptical expression etched onto your face; your boyfriend just grinned at you like an eager puppy.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the urge to play mad scientist with my hair."

"You're acting like I'm about to give you an entirely new identity," you retorted, stepping inside and tossing your keys onto his bed. "Remind me why you want blue specifically? I thought you wanted to stay natural for a while."

Han shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I did, but blue is like my color, y'know? Fans loved it, and, let's be real, I looked amazing!" You rolled your eyes at the final comment but could not help the smile that eased past your lips.

"Fine," you told him, "but if this goes wrong, I am taking zero responsibility."

"Noted," he replied, leading you down the hallway to the bathroom; a box of blue hair dye already sat waiting on the counter.

"Wow," you teased, picking up the box and analyzing the instructions. "You really went all out with the cheap stuff. Y'sure it won't turn your hair green?"

Han laughed at first, but his eyes widened slightly, his playful expression morphing into one of slight fear.

"Wait...it's not going to do that, right?"

"I guess we'll find out."

Han let out a dreadful groan as you opened the box, pulling out the black rubber gloves that came with it; you pulled them on with a moderate snap as Han took off his shirt, throwing it somewhere on the messy bathroom floor. He perched on the edge of the bathtub, wrapping a small towel around his neck as you read the instructions in order to figure out just what you were doing.

After scanning over the steps and figuring out the process of unprofessionally coloring hair, you took out the color and the developer and poured both into the applicator bottle, shaking it harshly in order to quickly mix up the dye. Once the agents were fully combined, you stepped closer to Han, sitting yourself beside him on the rim of the tub.

"Okay, tilt your head back," you instructed, squeezing a tiny amount of hair dye onto your finger tips.

"Wait," Han suddenly said, looking up at you with large, doe-eyes. "What happens if it actually turns my hair green?"

"Hannie, it's just hair," you replied, running your clean hand through his hair lightly. "You'll be fine."

"But my appearance is my livelihood!" He clutched a dramatic hand over his heart, pretending to tear up at the thought. "If my hair is ruined, I'm ruined!"

"Well, you could always shave your head and wait for it to grow back!" you playfully remarked. "Hopefully by then, your stylist will feel better!"

"A shaved head?!" Han gasped dramatically, his words loud and bewildered. "Do I look like my name is Hyunjin? We can't have two kiwis in the group!" You chuckled at his melodramatics before halting suddenly, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

"Wait, Hyunjin shaved his head?"

"Oh, nevermind that!" Han playfully shook his head as he spoke. "Can you just get started before I go crazy?"

"You're already crazy, Hannie, but okay."

You slowly raked the blue dye through Han's hair, being as gentle as possible just in case you caught any missed tangles or knots. You went by sections, going by the layers of Han's hair. As you worked, Han squirmed as if he were a child.

"Ow!" he yelped unseriously. "That was a tangle!"

"Han, my fingers literally ran through a couple of strands," you retaliated, trying not to laugh. "How could I have hit a tangle?"

"I don't know, but that's what it felt like," he muttered, pouting and wincing for effect.

"You're such a baby," you teased, brushing through his hair more softly. "I know you don't act like this with the stylists, so just behave for me, would you?"

"Fine, fine," he conceded with a sigh. "In my defense, though, it absolutely kills me to sit still for an hour with them, too."

"Keep yourself distracted then," you suggested as you began to work on the second section of hair. "Like, just talk to me about whatever will make time pass by for you."

Upon your statement, you and Han began to discuss everything and nothing, from his plans for the week, to a new song he was working on, and finally the latest group chat antics with the other members. You had to pause your efforts multiple times during conversation, scolding Han for turning his head away from you while he was speaking. By the time you had finished applying the dye, you were both laughing so hard that your sides were aching.

"Okay," you sighed out victoriously, peeling off your gloves and throwing them away along with the applicator bottle. "Now we wait."

"For how long?"

"Thirty minutes," you answered after re-checking the box's directions. As you pulled out your phone to set a timer, Han let out a frustrated groan, slumping dramatically off of the bathtub's edge and onto the bathroom floor.

"I am going to die of boredom."

"You could always help me clean up," you suggested, glancing pointedly at the blue streaks adorning the whie porcelain of the bathtub, as well as some spots that had made their way onto the floor.

"Absolutely not." Han sat up quickly, shaking his head. "That's your mess."

"Excuse me?" you shot back while chuckling. "Are you not the one who squirmed, flinced, and turned your head so aggressively that you got hair dye everywhere?" Before Han could answer, you pulled out a washrag from one of the bathroom drawers, turning on the faucet to wet it slightly and tossing it to Han.

"Now, get it before it dries up!" you commanded, getting out a second rag for yourself. "I don't want to explain to your managers why the dorm's bathroom looks like a Smurk emporium."

To your gratitude, and more so Han's, cleaning up the smeared hair dye made the time pass by swiftly; within what felt like moments, the alarm on your phone had gone off.

"Thank goodness!" Han yelled, standing up from where he had been kneeled on the floor, working on a particularly tough stain. "Moment of truth!" Han made his way to the shower, sliding open the door before glancing back at you.

"Privacy, please!" he cheekily commanded, waiving you away sassily.

"Yeah, whatever. Just don't forget to use this, ya goof." You handed him the small packet of hair color conditioner before striding out of the bathroom.

"Text me when you're done."

You were sitting on Han's bed, scrolling through social media for what felt like an eternity; you were never able to understand how one person could take such a lengthy shower. You got the urge to go knock on the bathroom door and ask what was taking so long, but before you could, your phone buzzed.

Hannie<3: All done! Come look! :D

You smiled at the text, sluggishly standing up and making your way to the bathroom. You opened the door to find a beaming Han, his squirrely smile lighting up the entire bathroom as he ran his hands through his hair whilst looking in the mirror; it was blow-dried, which was probably why he took longer than expected, but most importantly, it was vibrant, shiny, and blue.

"Ladies and...well, just lady!" Han exclaimed as he turned to you, a prominent, joyous sparkle present in his eyes. "I present to you: the return of Bluesung!"

"No kidding!" you responded, ruffling his hair lightly and fluffing it up slightly. "I think I nailed it!"

"You did!" he agreed, grinning from ear to ear. "I am dangerously attractive now. Well, I've always been attractive, but even more so now, baby!"

"Alright, alright." You rolled your eyes, lightly pushing at his shoulder. "Calm down, Blueberry."

"Careful," he warned, the gleeful glint in his gaze turning into a mischevious one. "Call me that again, and I'm dying your hair."

"Fine by me," you retorted while smirking. "I've been wanting to go purple for a while, Blueberry."

"Oh, you little!" Han picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and playfully bickering with you as he spun you around the bathroom; however, even through the teasing and the unserious arguing, one thought crossed your mind:

Blue really did suit him.

Taglist: @velvetmoonlght, @amararosesblog (If you would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!)

[er-osion]

My Tears Ricochet

pairing:  Kaz Brekker x gn!Reader

summary:  A fic inspired by Taylor Swift’s ‘My Tears Ricochet’.  Kaz says some things to you in anger after a heist so you end things and move out of the Slat.  Months later and Kaz can no longer bear being separated

word count:  2.6k

warnings:  hurt/comfort

you can see the full taylor swift song-fic masterlist here

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The door to Kaz’s room slammed shut.  You tried not to wince at the noise, tried not to move lest you show how upset and afraid you were.  Things had gone bad, really bad.  The heist should’ve been simple but sometimes things just don’t go to plan, sometimes human error messes things up.  Now you stood in the room you shared with Kaz, bracing for him to give you hell for the awful night all of you had had.

“Do you just want to see your teammates die?”  Kaz snapped, back turned to you as he paced around the room.

“What kind of question is that, Kaz?”  You spat back, offended.  “Things go wrong, we’re all human.”

“That’s one of the weakest excuses I’ve heard for inadequacy in a long time.”

Your eyes went wide, “Inadequacy?!”  You repeated, aghast.  “Watch it, Brekker.”

Kaz let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head and running his fingers through his hair.  “If you don’t want to be called ‘inadequate’, don’t do foolish things, you behaved like a rookie tonight!”

“The others have made mistakes just as bad, if not worse before, yet when I do it it’s the crime of the century?”  You threw your hands in the air, tone quickly rising to meet his anger.

“No, this heist could’ve been the heist of the century if you hadn’t royally fucked it up!”

“Kaz, I know you’re upset, we all are.  But yelling at me won’t change the events of the evening, it will only make things worse.”

“Oh don’t try and get all ‘holier than thou’ on me.  You don’t want to get yelled at?  Then don’t act like a fucking idiot.”

You blinked back tears of frustration and hurt.  You and Kaz had had your fair share of arguments, being in a relationship with someone who didn’t know how to express their feelings properly can lead to that.  But his behavior was out of pocket and undeserved.  He was supposed to be your biggest supporter, not tear you down. 

The argument raged for another two hours, growing worse and worse by the minute until you’d had enough.

“Kaz, shut the fuck up!”  You cried.  “I’m done!”

He froze, fury overtaking his expression before he took a step back and blinked.  “What?”  His voice was grating.

“I’m done.”  You repeated in a hush, throat and chest tightening impossibly.

“The hell do you mean, ‘you’re done’?”  

“I mean I’m done with this, with us.”  You concluded defeatedly.  Kaz didn’t say anything, his expression didn’t change, as if he hadn’t truly understood what you were saying or the implication of your statement.  “I can’t be with someone who’s going to degrade me for making human mistakes.  We’re supposed to help one another, not demean each other and if you still don’t understand that after all of these years… then I think my time is better spent elsewhere.”

You straightened your back and rolled your shoulders in an attempt to pull yourself together despite the tears blurring your vision.  You waited for Kaz to say something, anything. The silence was deafening.

“If you want to be a quitter then fine, quit.  I don’t need someone who behaves like this anyways.”  Kaz hissed, turning his back to you as he was no longer able to look at your distraught face.  

You puffed in disbelief.  Your heart was burning.  How could he so easily throw you away?  Throw everything the two of you had built together away?  You shook your head and began gathering your things.  You could feel Kaz watching you out of the corner of his eye but he never moved from his spot and never said anything.

When you’d finished gathering your belongings you scurried out of the room, needing more than anything to be out of that suffocating atmosphere.  You decided to stay with a friend going to university.  He asked no questions when you had showed up at his door in the middle of the night with all of your things, just let you in and helped you settle into the guest room.

When you woke up, mid afternoon the next day, your friend, Arthur, assured you that you could stay as long as you needed.  The next few months were torture for you.  This sick feeling in your stomach never went away and your chest never stopped hurting.  Merely eating, breathing, and moving became a task.  All motivation to do anything left your body and you wandered around your friend’s apartment like a ghost.  Nothing felt right, not anymore.  Kaz had always told you that your fighting spirit had made you brave, had inspired him, yet he was so quick to turn it against you.  The tears you cried over that man were endless.

****

Kaz has been a worn wood boat against the raging sea of his emotions these past few months.  He’d been off his grove, on edge, messy, and all the Crows had noticed.  To put it simply: Kaz Brekker had been a wreck of a man since the night you broke up with him.  Nothing was the same, nothing was tolerable anymore.

Everywhere he went, you haunted him.  Your ghost and the ghost of your relationship taunted him in spectral defiance, proving how small of a man he was.  He still wears the rings you’d gotten him underneath his gloves, he couldn’t bear to part from them.  The nicknacks you’d given him over the years that he kept scattered around his office and bedroom stayed in the same spots because he was too scared to get rid of them.  Because getting rid of those nicknacks and the rings meant putting a real end to that chapter of his life. 

He had spent the last few months cursing you, everything you’d ever brought to his life, your memory.  Because being angry was easier than being hurt.  But still, he missed you more than anything.  Saints, he missed you so much it hurt.  No injury could ever compare to the pain in his chest that had been stabbing at him since you walked out the door.  When you’d left, you had carved out a piece of him and took it with you.  There was so much empty space in Kaz’s soul he had to put daily effort in not getting lost in it.

Kaz hadn’t seen a trace of you since you’d left.  He couldn’t decide if that was a bad or good thing.  But tonight, he couldn’t handle it.  These past few months have been unbearably painful, this hole in his heart was no longer ignorable.  He knew he probably didn’t have a chance at reconciliation.  Hell, he probably didn’t deserve a second chance with you.  But Dirtyhands didn’t give up without a fight.  So he decided to find you, talk to you, and try to convey his all-consuming regret.  And if you wanted to move on, then he’d respect that.  Because that’s the very least he could do for you.

It wasn’t hard to figure out where you were.  You didn’t cover your trails and Kaz had an excellent recon team.  But when Inej told him you were staying with some friend from university named Arthur?  The cane-wielding young man almost threw the papers off his desk.  He’s ashamed to admit it, but the jealousy that instantly bubbled in his stomach burned and churned all the unpleasantness he’d been feeling lately into a monstrous wave.  If that good-for-nothing had tried at all to swoop in and replace Kaz in your life, this “Arthur” would learn how Kaz got the name Dirtyhands.

And that’s how Kaz found himself outside of this stranger’s apartment, standing out in the wet cold, unable to bring his gloved hand up to knock on the door.  He’d chosen a time in the evening when he knew your new roommate would be absent for a while, Kaz wanted zero interruptions during whatever was about to go down.

You were torn away from your book when you heard a sharp knock at the door.  Confused, you slowly got up and went to open the door only to reveal the very last person you expected to see tonight.

You stared at Kaz for a long while before beginning coldly, “What do you want?”

Kaz internally flinched at your tone.  “I’d like to talk.”

“Do you want to talk to me or yell at me?”  You retorted, feeling petty.

Kaz screwed his lips shut to keep himself from saying anything stupid, “Talk.”  He reiterated.

You looked him over before stepping aside, wordlessly letting him in.  Kaz strode inside the apartment hastily, observing the space with a critical eye.  “So you’ve been staying with your friend, Alex?”  He purposefully asked incorrectly.

“Arthur.  And yes, he’s been incredibly kind and understanding of my situation.”  You rebuked.

“Not too kind, I’m sure.”

“You have no reason to care.”  You painfully reminded him.  Kaz didn’t say anything, knowing you were right.  Kaz stalked around the main room, pretending to take a great interest in the decor as he tried miserably to plan what to say next.  You watched him move about, scrutinizing his every move and waiting for him to speak up.  You weren’t sure why he was here, but if he wanted to apologize then it would have to be in his own words.

“I…”  Kaz started but then trailed off, unsure of what exactly to say.  The dark haired man sighed, his mind exhausted with frustration, and plopped down on the couch.  You stood unmoving from your spot in the center of the room, still watching and waiting with a raised brow.  “I came to tell you that you didn’t deserve to be yelled at the way I yelled at you.  Even on your worst days you’d never deserve to be treated the way I treated you.”

You blinked in surprise, Kaz was never an openly apologetic person and you could tell he was unfamiliar with this area of communication by the way he stumbled over his words.  You moved closer sitting in the chair opposite him.  You could tell he still had more to say so you nodded at him, silently letting him know to continue.

Kaz took a steadying breath and readjusted his grip on his cane.  “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, I shouldn’t have let you walk out the door.  I can’t sleep at night, all I hear are your whispers.  I can’t keep moving about my day without at least trying to repair things between us.  Even if you don’t want to return to the way we were, I needed to tell you… all of this.”

Your throat tightened and you clutched desperately onto your pant legs for some grounding.  Your mind was spinning.  You wanted to still be angry with him, you wanted to yell at him and berate him.  But here he was, the man you loved sitting in front of you, apologizing, expressing regret over his actions, and telling you he’ll respect whatever decision you make after tonight.

“You hurt me Kaz.  You know how to weaponize words and you turned your stockpile against me and we’re supposed to be allies.”

“I know, I know and I’ll hate that memory for the rest of my life.  I’m a deplorable man, but the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you, and I can’t begin to describe the discontent I’ve felt after that night.”

You looked down at your hands, no longer able to maintain eye contact with Kaz with the way he was looking so intensely at you.  “I… I don’t know where to go from here Kaz.”  You admitted honestly.

“I’m not quite sure either.  But,”  Kaz paused, trying to gauge your reaction to his next words, “we could start by moving you back into the Slat.”

Your gaze snapped back up to the brown-eyed man in front of you, heart stuttering in your chest.  “With you?”  You questioned, voice shakier than you’d intended.

“Preferably.”  Kaz confirmed.

You looked Kaz up and down, scanning his face over and over for any sign that he was just messing with you, just trying to get your hopes up before brutally smashing them down again.  But all you could find was ground-shaking sincerity.  Fear and reverence swirled in his coffee-eyes and it knocked the wind out of you.

You took a weak breath in.  Maybe you weren’t strong, but the man you’d loved for years was sitting there trying to reconcile and you weren’t going to lie and say you weren’t ready to jump at the idea.  You didn’t want to give up on the two of you.  Kaz Brekker was your everything, is your everything.  You can’t imagine your life without him in it, so yeah, you were going to try again with him.  If things didn’t work out this time, then you’d take the hint and start the process of moving on.  But you were determined to work things out, because Kaz was here telling you just the same and you’d be damned if you didn’t take this opportunity.

“It’s going to take a bit for me to readjust to us.  I want to try again Kaz, start over.  I want us to work because I believe in us, I believe in you.”  You uttered seriously and Kaz’s breath hitched at your words.  He felt hope again, for the first time in ages he felt bright shining hope and restored vigor.

“I’ll give you all the time you need and more.  I’ll give you whatever you need, all you have to do is ask.  I don’t mean to let us die without a bare-knuckle fight.  I’ll dig up the corpse of us and pull our ghost from the depths of the Underworld if that means we can get a second chance.”  Kaz fervently promised, leaning so far forward he was barely sitting on the edge of his seat anymore.  You smiled at his goreish analogy, always the dramatic Kaz Brekker even when trying to repair your relationship.

You nodded and sighed contentedly.  “I won’t let us die without a fight either– but be warned; if you ever disrespect me like that again, I’ll rip you a new one Brekker.”  You warned with a playful smirk tugging at your lips.

Kaz made a noise between a scoff and a laugh, “I fully expect you to, but I won’t be giving you a reason to ever do so.”  You grinned with satisfaction at his words, getting up from your chair and telling him to stay put as you gathered your things. 

You waited for Arthur to come back before leaving the apartment, so you could explain the situation to him.  He was more than happy for you, glad to see you in any mood other than depressed for the first time in ages.  You made Kaz stand in the hall for the interaction, as you noticed your friend growing quickly uncomfortable with Kaz’s searing glare.

Before you knew it, you were back in the Slat with the love of your life.  You seamlessly melded right back into his space and Kaz could finally breathe freely again.  Things were right, they were the way they were supposed to be now that the two of you were back together again.  Kaz had never felt such a sense of relief as he did watching you settle down for bed in your shared room.  Kaz Brekker was no man of faith, but he swore to every Saint above that he’d never take you for granted or disrespect you ever again, lest he die a painful and humiliating death.  He didn’t deserve your second chances or forgiveness, but he’d work every day to try and deserve it, to be the partner you deserved.

[katethetank]

The Dungeon - Chapter 2

Rating: 18+ minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Eddie comes back, Steve is brave and clueless, the pieces fall together CW: Steve is oblivious, mentions of oral sex in regards to song lyrics Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, Steve has no idea who Eddie is, slow burn, idiots in love Word Count:2189

Chapter 1<<>>Chapter 3

The rest of the night seems to drag on, every minute passing by like another hour. And Steve keeps looking back at the door, waiting and hoping for it to open and bring his beautiful stranger back.

Steve was knocked a little off kilter when he first saw him standing on the other side of the counter. Dark hair piled on top of his head. Half his face hidden behind some serious Audrey Hepburn shades, but beneath those, the most pillowy, kissable lips. And god, he looked so soft and cozy. Something about a man in sweats just made Steve want to nest. Cuddle up on a couch under blankets, exchange soft and lazy kisses, maybe take a little nap and snuggle. 

God, he’s not beating those “mom” allegations anytime soon, is he?

But Jesus, when he whipped those sunglasses off and batted his big old doe eyes at Steve, smirked, called him sweetheart…He was a goner.

He hoped he played it cool, but in the back of his mind he knows better. He used to be able to charm the pants off of anyone, but all of his time spent with the kids-who-are-no-longer-kids have robbed him of his cool points, and Robin had turned him into a rambling mess much like herself. 

There was some kind of spark there though, right? He wasn’t imagining it? Steve was rightfully bummed when he…Eddie…ordered his drink to go. He was hoping to work on his charm a little more, attempt some flirting of his own, see if he could bring out a blush on Eddie’s cheeks too. 

But fate just doesn’t work that way for Steve. He doesn’t get the romantic meet cutes that lead to true love. He doesn’t get the happy ending. Lord knows he tried. He’s a sucker for love and has tried to find it in not always the best places. He’s left every single one of his hookups hoping for something more, that maybe this one would be the one. But they either ghost him or only want to fuck again. 

Steve wants something more. Something deeper. He wants to be happy. He wants to find his person. Robin does her damnedest to hype him up and they both believe his person is out there, somewhere. He’s just been having to kiss a lot of frogs trying to find them.

The clock ticks on and Steve starts to lose hope that Eddie will come back. Why would he? It’s a weeknight, he said he had to work, the last thing he would want after a long day and late night is more caffeine. 

He busies himself around the shop, doing the chores the kids asked him to. He’s got Billie Eilish’s new album playing over the speakers, and it’s helping to chill him out a bit. No way metal could have the same effect, fuck your very much Mike Wheeler.

He’s wiping down the machines behind the counter, singing along with Billie about eating pussy, and doesn’t hear the door open. He doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching. Doesn’t hear someone slump onto the counter. 

“I’ll run a shower for you like you want! Clothes on the counter for you, try 'em on! If I’m allowed I’ll help you take them o-o-o-o-off!

“Well hot damn, that’s the nicest offer I’ve had all week!”

Steve, not being startled in the slightest, shrieks like a girl and throws his rag at Eddie’s face.

“Oh my god! Do I have to put a bell on you?! You scared the shit out of me!”

Eddie is laughing so hard he’s bent over the counter, his face is red, crinkles appearing around his eyes. Steve can’t help but laugh with him.

“Sorry!” Eddie gasps and raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you! Oh my god, you said earlier that you could scream, but that honey? That was something else!” 

Leave it to Steve to make a total ass of himself in front of a gorgeous man. Now that his heart rate is coming back down, he’s registering how gorgeous Eddie actually looks. 

Gone are the cozy sweats and Hepburn glasses. His hair is down, wild and untamed and Steve wants to bury his face in it. He’s got some black eyeliner smudged around his eyes, making them look even darker and deeper. A black leather jacket covers his broad shoulders and peeking out from underneath…is that mesh? Dragging his eyes down further, he lands on a handcuff belt buckle resting above skin tight leather pants that look like they were painted on. Lord help him. His mouth goes a little dry. 

Clearing his throat, he meets Eddie’s eyes again - which are dancing with mischief. A Cheshire grin plastered on his beautiful face. Fuck. He caught Steve gawking at him, didn’t he?

“Uh. Yeah. Sorry. You want a..?” He points, intelligently, to the menu while he tries to get a fucking grip Jesus, Harrington!

Eddie just smiles, shakes his head, and leans on the counter.

Damn, that man knows how to lean.

“So what uh…what brings you back?”

“Well Stevie, I said be back to see you later, and I am nothing if not a man of my word. How was your night sweetheart?”

Steve is going to die. He’s going to simply pass away while this insanely hot man is leaning and smiling and giving all of his attention to Steve. “Fine. It was fine. Kinda boring actually. Not a lot of action around here on a Thursday night, you know?”

“Aw, honey, a man as pretty as you should have no trouble getting all kinds of action.”

Steve almost audibly rolls his eyes. “Wow that was awful! Does that kind of line usually work? I’m almost embarrassed for you!” 

Eddie’s face falls. 

Shit. He was going for cheeky and it came off bitchy.

“Fuck. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m so-“

Eddie, throws his head back and cackles. “Steve! You’ve got some claws, sweetheart!” He slaps his hand over his heart and admits, “You’re right! You’re right, that was horrible! My deepest apologies m’lord. I do appreciate your honesty, and I promise I’ll workshop some of my material a little more for next time.”

Steve breathes a sigh of relief. Thank god he didn’t fuck this up so quickly! “Next time, huh? You making plans for me already?”

Pulling a lock of hair over his full lips, Eddie looks almost bashful as he says,”I don’t know, how willing are you to be subjected to more heinous pickup lines?”

You could lay them on me forever. Lay on me forever.

“Hmm… depends. How willing would you be to have lunch with me tomorrow?”

Eddie perks up and Steve swears if he had a tail, it would be furiously wagging right now. ”I - yeah! I could do lunch! Where uh… where are you thinking?”

“There’s a place on the other side of town, by the community center. Wayne’s Diner? They make a mean grilled cheese. Have you been there before?”

Eddie gets this look on his face that Steve can’t pinpoint. Something almost…fond. “Yeah. I think I know the place. I can meet you there around 1:00?”

Steve’s heart is doing fucking backflips in his chest. He can’t believe this guy actually wants to go out with him. “It’s a date.”

There’s the blush Steve was hoping for. It looks really pretty on Eddie. 

They just kinda gaze at each other for a moment when Steve realizes that he’s supposed to be closing up the shop soon. “Ah shit, it’s getting late. I better finish up here, make sure I got everything done so I don’t catch hell from the shitheads.”

Eddie snickers and nods his head.”I’ll get out of your hair, sweetheart. My carriage is about to turn into a pumpkin anyway,” he says while pointing to the clock in the wall reading nearly midnight. Before heading out, he reaches for Steve’s hand, slowly brings it to his lips, and places a gentle kiss on his knuckles. “Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.”

Steve? Swoons.

Nobody has ever set off fireworks like that in him before, especially not from something as simple as a kiss to his hand. He watches Eddie saunter out of the shop and Steve has to brace himself on the counter before he passes the fuck out. 

No sooner than the door closes that it flies back open again and a whirlwind of chaos comes barreling in. 

“Steve!  Why did we just see Eddie fucking Munson leaving our fucking shop?!” This is the most hysterical Steve had ever seen Dustin. All of them really. Even Max and El, clinging to each other while jumping up and down, are apparently losing their minds.

“How do you guys know Eddie? He was in here earlier today and he came back to uh… well. I’ve kinda got a date with him tomorrow.”

If it wasn’t for Billie still playing on the speakers, you could have heard a pin drop.

Steve looks around the cluster of faces, seeing shock, surprise, elation, disbelief, and (ok fuck off Mike) disgust. The kids have known forever that he’s queer as fuck, so he can’t fathom why they’re all reacting like this. Dustin seems to snap out of it first and slowly steps up to the counter.

“Steve. Buddy. Pal. You need to tell me everything, right fucking now.”

Steve quirks his eyebrow. What the hell has gotten into these dipshits? Oh fuck, they didn’t actually end up doing drugs did they? “Are you guys high? Did you take something at the concert? I fucking told you, don’t take shit from people you don’t know, it’s not safe!”

They all collectively roll their eyes as if they’d been rehearsing it, which he wouldn’t be surprised if they had. Max pipes up from behind the boys, “No mom, we didn’t take anything! Now spill, I want the dirty details!”

“Not much dirty about it kiddo, he came in earlier while you guys were leaving, ordered a drink to go, talked about music, and he kinda…flirted a little bit. I mentioned I’d be here till close and he said he’d try to stop by after work. I totally didn’t think he’d show up again, but he popped in just a little while ago and I asked him out. We’re going to lunch tomorrow.” Steve shrugs at that and turns around to gather his shit from behind the counter. The kids can lock up, he’s exhausted and is ready to climb into bed.

The silence from them is loud so he turns back around to see them staring wide-eyed back at him.

“What? Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

Mike shakes his head in disbelief. “Of course. Of fucking course Steve would be the one manning the shop while Eddie fucking Munson comes in. And you seriously had the balls to ask him out?! Unbelievable. He’s like a dorky mother hen and he manages to get a date with a fucking rock star.”

Wait. What?

“Wait. What? The fuck are you talking about?”

A collective groan fills the room. Dustin, looking at him like he’s an idiot, asks “Steve, what drink did he order?”

“Uh…The Corroded Coffin?”

Dustin nods his head slowly and asks, “And what concert did we go to tonight?”

“…Corroded Coffin…”

Oh fuck. No. No no no.

The pieces all begin to fall into place. The incognito outfit, the questions about the band, him showing up again later looking like…yeah, looking like a rock star.

The color drains from his face.

“Oh shit. Oh my god. Guys, I think I really fucked up.”

Mike’s eyes go wide. “What did you do??”

Steve grimaces. “I might have…talked shit about his band. Called it ‘noise’ and said his singing just sounded like screaming.”

The outburst from the kids makes him wince.

“What the fuck, Steve?!”

“Are you serious??”

“You did NOT?”

“This is hilarious!”

“You’re dead to me”

Steve runs his hand down his face and says, “Guys, I didn’t know! I don’t listen to your weird music, ok?! What the fuck do I do? I can’t believe I screwed this up already.”

The girls step up to the counter, always more logical than the boys thank god, and offer some reassurance. El, the angel of the bunch, rubs his shoulder and tells him, “I’m sure it’s not that bad. He still came back right?”

Max agrees, “Yeah, if he was totally repulsed by your idiocy, he would have bailed. But he didn’t. And for some reason actually agreed to go out with you. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Steve nods his head. “Yeah. Yeah, maybe you’re right. What do I do though? I’m meeting him for lunch tomorrow and I’m gonna feel like such an ass when I see him.”

“Apologize, dumbass!” says Dustin. “Seriously, do we have to tell you everything? You’re not a child.”

This kid’s gotta get his ego in check.

And Steve has got to prepare himself to do some serious groveling if he has any hope of salvaging whatever this is.

Chapter 1<<>>Chapter 3

************************************************

Comment if you'd like to be on the taglist! It's my first time doing this, so let me know if I screw it up. This is also posted on my ao3 account if you wanna check it out there.

@annachronisme

[knot-ee]

The teenage sorcerer had no clue how it was possible to be both angry (definitely not pissed off; that would be mean) and relived that their serenity was interrupted. No, in an ideal world they didn't have to go back to training and the two FRIENDS could sleep in each other's arms until it was time to have breakfast. Megumi kept quiet and still like a mouse under the paw of a cat. Maybe he was a mouse what with being sneaky, and the paw that was on top of him was of the kindest and cutest tiger.

Not that Megumi knew many tigers, but it was a safe bet to say Yuji was the best. The mouse in this scenario just barely refrained from squeaking when Yuji... hugged him? before the other boy out of bed. No, it couldn't be... but there was no other way to explain how Yuji squeezed him tight. Megumi's heart felt so full that he smiled the biggest smile he had ever smiled. The conversation that was not so quiet between Itadori and Kugisaki almost made him laugh.

It was like the three of them were back to normal -- whatever normal there was to achieve in their kind of lives. Megumi dropped the act, turned around to face the door, and sat up. The side of his head that had been pressed against Yuji had his hair all in a comical mess. Spikes were pointing in different directions than usual and some spikes were no longer such, completely smashed and flattened. He got a sharp kick of adrenaline when he heard Kugisaki but he still wore an adorably sleepy expression.

“ Itadori... It's okay. I'm awake. ”

Megumi rubbed the sleep from his eyes and let out a yawn. After blinking his sleepy tears away he looked down and realized with dread he was wearing Yuji's hoodie. How?! How was that possible?! Like an IDIOT he not only forgot to return it but he was wearing it! His guts coiled uncomfortably and his pink-warm face drained of color. He quickly removed the article of clothing and jumped up to his feet.

“ I... I... I am so sorry. I didn't mean to. I mean, I did take it, but I wasn't stealing it. I just... I just couldn't. ”

Megumi balled his hands into fists and shamefully looked down at his bare feet.

“ I didn't want your things to be thrown away. It seemed so cruel.... ”

And he wanted Yuji's memory to remain with him always.

Yuji sleeps so peacefully. It isn’t like he constantly had trouble sleeping but there were always days where he had more trouble than others. Perhaps the whole event with the Kyoto school had him more tired than he realized. Megumi’s warm body pressed against his was probably the main factor though. He even dreams, nice relaxing dreams.

First, he’s walking on a beach a nice warm breeze in his hair the sun felt so good. Then he’s watching a movie and has someone in his arms. Megumi seems to be complaining about some silly alien film. Then the dream turns a little odd, He’s walking with Megumi through a dark corridor, maze-like hallways that go forever then turn randomly. Suddenly Megumi is running and he’s trying to keep up. Following Megumi as best he can through the dark shadow-filled hallways, doors slamming left and right, he spots Megumi darting into a door and when Yuji gets it, the door is locked. He knocks, but nothing. Knocks again and again. He hears Megumi calling out his name from the other side. Why won’t he let him in though?

Sitting up suddenly, Yuji wakes with a start. Blinking his vision into focus. He finally makes sense of the sound. Nobara was pounding next door outside his room. He groans and lays down, spotting Megumi beside him. He has to bite his lip as he breaks into a wide grin. Megumi looked good in his hoodie and that fact does something to him, makes his tummy feel fuzzy and warm. He’s about to close his eyes and press closer when Nobara’s voice only gets louder. He groans.

“What the heck does she want?”

At this rate, she was going to wake up Megumi! He grumbles and slowly gets up from the bed. Not before gently hugging Megumi, pressing his face into his hair before finally getting up and walking towards the door. He opens the door with just a crack to stick his head out.

“Why are you being so loud?! You’re going to wake up Megumi!”

Yuji hissed in a low voice at Nobara. She whips her head around and looks surprised to see him in Megumi’s room.

“What the hell are you doing in Fushiguro’s room?”

She eyes him suspiciously and Yuji hopes his face isn’t turning red, he tries to keep his face neutral and keep his composure. It wasn’t like they did anything so why was he feeling so flustered all of a sudden?

“Why are you looking at me like that? We were watching movies and I fell asleep.”

He mumbles when she narrows her eyes at him. It wasn’t like he was embarrassed or ashamed or anything, but he wasn’t sure how Megumi would feel about people knowing. Knowing what? He suddenly asks himself. There isn’t anything to know is there? Since when was he so easily flustered? Maybe being locked away in that basement messed with his social skills.

[stari-jelly]

silly comic fro my AU (that I still don't have a name for) this takes place late in the story after Loop and Isa get their shit together and start communicating lmao. also the comic transcript

Loop: what?

Isabeau: hmm...

Isabeau: can I kiss you?

Loop: My Morningstar how bold~

more art and facts under the cut.

so first off Loop and Isa are staying in a clocktower on the north coast of Vaugard. Loop has taken full control of the town they are staying in and refuses to leave for the most part. Loop isn't mean or cruel to the people of the town by any means they just took the town by force and have now made it their safe space. the towns people used to be scared if Loop but have since gotten used to them and some even like Loop. they spend most of their time in the clock tower decorating it, working on a project of theirs, and studying the stars at night. I might do a drawing of the layout of the clocktower. maybe. Loop wears the tattered remains of their old cloak and keeps their hair long. they have ditched the eyepatch entirely.

Isa at first stayed in Jouevente, he kept in contact with Bonnie and Nille, he and Mirabelle send letters but they don't talk that much and Odile hasn't been responding. he quit the defenders but still wants to help people leading to him getting into a lot of trouble with both authorities and criminals. he's having his vigilante arc. this ends with him getting seriously injured luckily Loop was around and saw him bleeding out and decided to drag him back to their town and heal him. (hence the bandages on his chest.) Isabeau is a lot more introverted in this AU. he's still loud and fun but he tires out quicker and has days we're he just isn't in the mood to be loud. he's more serious, more serious than Loop anyway, and is upset with how the Vaugardian government is handling the whole world ending situation. also he doesn't hide how smart he is, he realized there's no point when things are this bad.

Isabeau's and Loop's relationship is tense at first. Isabeau is reeling from how different and cold Loop is while also still having a fat crush (Loop being different didn't really change how much Isabeau likes him) and Loop thinks that Isabeau just wants Siffrin back and is very against that. this ofcourse does not stop Loop from jokingly flirting with Isabeau to get a reaction, Loop is just like that. Loop lashes out a lot and Isabeau is just trying to get them to open up. very angsty.

anyway some fun facts! Loop compares Isabeau to Venus a lot. they call Isa Morning star or Evening star has a cute nickname and painted the Venus symbol on his neck in the comic. Isabeau likes how direct and hard Loop is now, he thinks it's hot. gay ass. Loop sings a lot, they sing while they work, they sing when idle, they sing for the town. Isabeau had a cat, her name is Saumon. (French name for salmon) yes Isabeau named his cat salmon its funny. he had the cat before the king appeared and when he quit the defenders he gave the cat to one of his friends to take care of. now he has his cat back. she's super sassy and judgy.

[fadefromthelight]

i drew this because i want those converses and i decided to use that valentine's day is coming up as an excuse for the pink and heart theme lol

[keeps-ache]

cat bit up my arm Gwah

[virtueofsanityx]

perhaps it's a testament to the raw emotion of the moment that, in a laugh that chokes out like a sob, reggie's tears turn to some kind of manic humor. because this, all of this, is so perfect and warm and comforting. the way dmitri wraps him up in his arms and holds him, the way fingers thread though hair that he's let go curly instead of trying to style to hell and back to flatten it out, the way his body presses against the other man for more contact, fingers curl into the back of his shirt to hold him there for longer, face disappears against the warm shoulder under it.

what an easy thing it would be to simply kiss that shoulder, to twist his head and find a soft spot on his neck to press his lips to, to pull back and finally kiss the big, dumb oaf on the mouth and get all of this over with.

but he's started to cry and that feels like the wrong time to do that. if he ever finds courage enough to kiss this man, he wants to do it in a way that's so romantic that dmitri can't help but feel his toes curl and his heart hammer the way reggie's is now, probably so hard that the other man can feel it thundering against his chest like a rocket. his joke is almost too perfectly timed, and another one of those manic little giggles slips out of him. "god, you're dumb sometimes." eyes close, and he presses further into that hug, holds the man longer, leans into every touch.

he's gonna end up with a serious problem if dmitri keeps grabbing his hair and his waist, sliding his hands all around his body like a playground. but god, does reggie wish he was doing it without this stupid apron, this stupid shirt, these stupid pants...

head shaking as he tries to clear the errant thoughts, he simply clears his throat, reaches up to scrub at his face when dmitri's hands are gone. "i'm good. i'm fine." he doesn't have to be and he knows that. but he is, because this is a mess of his own making. "you didn't make me cry. i made me cry. you know how i am, man. i get into my head, i think too much, i freak out over everything. i didn't have a lot of friends growing up, now i think we both know why." his laugh, self deprecating and shaky, is weak as he blows out a breath. "i'm sorry." he says again, for lack of something else to say.

he still feels like he's ruined the night, but he doesn't move from the kitchen, instead, finally forcing himself to look at dmitri, head on, in the eye. "you-- he isn't a weird ass guy, by the way." it would be so easy to just say it, to just lay it all out now. the warmth of that hug, as well as the flush on his cheeks, still linger, and his eyes roam a wall of hard muscle hidden far too much by clothing before he shrugs and meets those warm eyes again. "he's kind of...." coward. weak. loser. "you're kind of great."

not a confession. but close. ripping off a bandaid, chickening out at the last second. running into burning buildings is far easier than this.

Dmitri was completely blindsided when Reggie's voice, thick with unshed tears, broke into heartfelt apologies. Everything came so completely out of the blue, and Reggie's voice was so raw with emotion, that Dmitri dropped his tools and immediately did a double take at him. He has no idea what Reggie could possibly be sorry for, though he patiently listens as he friend poured out those feelings.

Ruined the night?

"Reg," Dmitri began, a nervous chuckle bubbling up in his chest, "What're you...." The words caught in his throat. What in the ever living fuck was Reggie talking about? Dmitri couldn't process the quivering emotion in Reggie's voice, the suddenness of it all. And the thought of Reggie leaving him here alone tonight… filled him with the coldest dread.

That’s when his friend turns to face him, lips parting to spill more fragmented nonsense. Dmitri's growing pretty desperate for clarity, but Reggie keeps his gaze fixed downward, avoiding eye contact, though the flushed pink in his cheeks gives him away. He’s either on the verge of crying or already there. Dmitri’s heart stops and stutters------ then it races, pounding with a nervous energy far beyond what his mind can process. What could Reggie possibly mean?

"Hey, man… c’mere." Dmitri softens his voice, closing the distance between them in a few quick steps. His strong arms encircle Reggie’s shoulders, intending a brief, casual hug between two bros. But what starts as a simple gesture lingers, stretches----- because Dmitri doesn’t want to let go. There’s something grounding in the closeness; the scent of Reggie’s shampoo, the smooth warmth of his neck brushing against Dmitri’s scruff, the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed right into his own. It’s unfairly comforting. The tension that had gripped Dmitri earlier simply just melts, replaced by something far gentler.

Reggie wasn’t his. Not really. But in a way, he was----- as much as a close friend could be. And for Dmitri, that was everything. He’d take whatever Reggie was willing to give, no matter how unsteady it left him, because the bond between them had already unraveled any pretense of sanity he might’ve held.

His fingers move without thought, threading through Reggie’s hair, massaging his scalp, cradling his head against his shoulder. In the quiet, Dmitri finally finds room to think. He realizes what might’ve brought them here: while Dmitri saw confrontation as a way to clear the air and get back to being on the same page, others, like perhaps Reggie, might not. Not everyone was a fighter. Some took even the slightest conflict personally, mistaking it for rejection. And that? That just wasn’t true. Not for Reggie. Not in Dmitri’s heart.

When he pulls back, it’s to get a proper look at Reggie’s face------ and that’s when he sees the faint shimmer of tears caught on long, elegant lashes. Gently, Dmitri brushes a stray tear from Reggie’s cheek with the roughened pad of his thumb. His expression folds into worry, his voice quiet and rasped with care.

"...I made you cry?"

His dark eyes search Reggie’s, desperate for answers. Confusion twists with fear, because if Reggie thought their friendship might crumble under whatever weight he was carrying, then Dmitri was failing him. All he wanted to do was kiss away the tears, feel the warmth of Reggie’s blush beneath his tongue, and reassure him all soft and sweetly.

"I’m not ending our friendship just ‘cuz you got a crush on some weird ass guy you don’t wanna talk about," Dmitri offers, a very small attempt at humor slipping into his raw, uncertain tone. His large hands drop to the slender muscle of Reggie’s waist, holding him there a moment before sliding around to untie the knot of his apron with careful, deliberate motions. "Why don’t you go curl up by the fire and let me finish up in here?"

It feels like Reggie needs space, to cry, to let whatever he’s carrying out, and Dmitri wants to give that to him. But the uncertainty gnaws at him. Does Reggie want him there? Or would he rather be alone? Dmitri doesn’t know.

The Dmitri of the past wouldn’t have cared. Hell, he probably would’ve laughed at the sight of another man crying. But after a few good coaches (and some brutally honest friends) stepped in and told him to cut the overly macho bullshit and get his head on straight, Dmitri had pushed himself to do the necessary inner work. The process hadn’t been easy, but it'd made him a better man, more attuned to the emotions of those around him. And yet, fear still lingered there... the fear that, despite his growth, he might still hurt the people he cared about most.

Right now, his heart pounds with that fear. What if Reggie ran? Out into the snowstorm, away from this place Dmitri cherished most in the world? The thought settles like a heavy stone in his chest. He doesn’t want to lose him---- not to the storm, not to fear, not to misunderstanding. Sheer desperation is in his eyes, silently pleading for Reggie to stay.

But Dmitri can’t bring himself to say it aloud.