#in some way if she’s getting something out of it too. waving golden jewelry in her face buying her things etc

[kendallroygf]

One thing that goes crazy is those distant screaming calls for help you can hear in the background of off to the races. Like the whole basic premise is this lolita inspired dynamic between this young lonely girl and this much older man where she swears that nobody else in the world would even have her except for him and this in itself is a feat because she’s ‘crass’ and has a ‘broke down life’ etc and the whole thing is entrenched in denial. He loves her in spite of all these things wrong with her, all he asks is that she does what he wants, he’s like an omnipresent figure for her - watches her in the bathroom, getting dressed etc. and the almost hyperbolic way she describes herself smitten with him and how she believes she needs him, she’s nothing without him, the dependency borders on the paternal. It’s not that she’s unable to leave it’s that she believes she has nowhere else to go, he’s made it so she’s so enmeshed that she simply thinks she could not survive without him. he’s ‘saving’ her from herself and she’s in even more debt to him for it (sorry that im misbehaving!!!) and imo she’s almost a parody of herself bc she doubles down on this narrative that’s she’s a seductress and insane and crazy and she needs looking after by this mature older man when in reality she’s so troubled, under constant observation but she twists it so it’s like she’s running away to be caught by him rather than to escape. And in the end her calls for help can barely be heard under the passionate repetition that he’s her one true love

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Phainon x (fem)reader

Phainon is crushing and Y/N is oblivious 🤭

Part1 PART2

The golden streets of Okhema City were alive with motion, as market vendors called out to shoppers, children darted through the crowd with sweets in hand, and musicians played cheerful tunes in the background. Amid all this, Phainon walked a few paces ahead of the group, his hands clasped behind his back, every movement calculated to look calm and composed. Internally, though, he was anything but.

“This way,” Phainon said, turning briefly to glance at Y/N. “The central market is one of Okhema’s highlights—lots of unique crafts and imports from other planets. It’s… worth a visit.”

He cleared his throat, which was already dry from nerves. Y/N wasn’t paying attention to how stiffly he moved or how his voice wavered slightly. She was too busy marveling at the intricate architecture surrounding them. Towering buildings of white stone glimmered faintly, their edges lined with gold filigree that caught the sunlight just right. Her eyes sparkled as she took it all in.

“This place is incredible!” she said, twirling to take in the sights. “You live here, Phainon? You’re so lucky.”

Phainon flushed under her bright gaze. “It’s, uh… it’s nice, I suppose.”

“Nice?” she repeated, incredulous. “It’s gorgeous! Look at that fountain!” She pointed at a marble structure adorned with carved phoenixes. Golden water trickled from their beaks, glowing faintly in the light. “Is it glowing? It’s glowing! Is it supposed to do that?”

“It represents unity,” Phainon explained, his voice quieter now. “It’s a… local tradition.”

Tribbie, walking beside Y/N, leaned toward Mydei and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear, “You can practically hear the crush in his voice.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. “He’s trying too hard. It’s embarrassing.”

“Give him a break!” Tribbie grinned. “He’s doing great!”

“By what standards?” Mydei deadpanned.

Phainon coughed awkwardly, pretending not to hear them. His white-gloved hand brushed against his coat, nervously adjusting the fabric as he tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make him look like a complete fool. But before he could, Y/N gasped again and rushed ahead.

“Look! That vendor’s selling jewelry! I’ve never seen designs like that before,” she said, practically dragging Trailblazer along with her. The two crowded around a stall displaying shimmering necklaces and intricately designed earrings, their energy overwhelming the vendor.

Phainon followed hesitantly, trying not to let his nerves get the better of him. “Be careful,” he said, his voice soft. “Some of these pieces are delicate—”

“You’re just saying that because you’re worried she’ll trip into the stall,” Mydei muttered from behind him.

“Or knock over a stack of something,” Dan Heng added dryly.

Tribbie, meanwhile, clasped her hands together dramatically. “But wouldn’t it be so romantic if Phainon caught her in his arms? You know, like in those old love stories?”

“I’ll bet ten credits he’d faint first,” Mydei retorted.

Phainon stopped walking and turned to glare at them, his face flushed. “Could you—please—stop that?” he hissed. “It’s not—”

“Not what?” Tribbie blinked innocently. “We’re just supporting you, Phainon. That’s what friends do.”

Before Phainon could respond, a loud shout cut through the cheerful hum of the market. “Thieves!” a merchant cried, waving his arms frantically. “My stock is gone—again!”

The group turned toward the commotion as a small crowd gathered. The merchant, a balding man with a deep frown, gestured wildly at an empty display case where shiny trinkets once sat. “It’s those creatures! They’ve been sneaking into the market at night, stealing everything shiny! No one’s done anything about it!”

“Creatures?” Y/N’s eyes widened with curiosity. “What kind of creatures?”

The merchant shook his head. “Small, ghost-like things. Glowing eyes. They come from the outskirts, I think, but I don’t know how to stop them. They’ve hit half the vendors on this street!”

Y/N turned to the group, her excitement unmistakable. “We should help!”

Trailblazer grinned. “Absolutely.”

Phainon opened his mouth to protest but quickly shut it when Y/N beamed at him. “You’re here to keep us safe, right, Phainon?” she asked.

He froze, his heart doing an unsteady flip. “I… well, yes, but—”

“Then it’s settled!” Y/N said, already turning back to the merchant. “We’ll get your stuff back in no time.”

Tribbie leaned toward Phainon again, whispering loudly, “You’re doing great! She’s counting on you.”

Phainon sighed, adjusting his coat again to hide his embarrassment. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered.

Mydei clapped him on the shoulder. “No kidding. But at least it’ll be entertaining.”

Dan Heng shook his head as the group began heading toward the outskirts. “Why do I feel like this is going to end badly?”

“Because it always does,” Mydei replied.

Phainon, trailing slightly behind Y/N, couldn’t help but think the same—but then Y/N glanced back at him, smiling brightly, and all his worries melted away. For now.

Phainon’s boots crunched softly on the overgrown trail as he followed the faint shimmer of the residue. The group has split up to cover more ground leaving phainon and Y/N alone,

He can still picture Tribbies giggling as she declared phainon and Y/N should team up. He kept his usual cheerful expression, his white hair catching the faint golden glow from the city behind them. The trees arched overhead, their twisted branches forming patterns that danced in the mist.

“This is such a weird place,”

Y/N commented, walking just behind him. “It feels… old. But cool. Like something out of a storybook.”

“It’s definitely unique,” Phainon replied, glancing back at her with a warm smile. “Okhema’s outskirts have a lot of history. Ancient battles, forgotten shrines, you name it. Some people find it eerie, but I think it’s—”

“Amazing?” Y/N finished for him, her voice brimming with excitement.

“Y-yeah,” he said, a bit flustered but recovering quickly. “Exactly!”

Y/N grinned. “I like how you look at things, Phainon. You always seem so… optimistic.”

“Oh, it’s nothing!” He waved a hand dramatically, his voice taking on a slightly theatrical tone. “Life’s too short to not find the good in things, you know? Even creepy glowing trails.”

That earned him a laugh from Y/N, which made him grin even wider.

As they walked, Phainon occasionally crouched to inspect the shimmering residue, his golden and blue coat flaring out dramatically behind him. Y/N watched with curiosity as he ran his fingers over the faint scratches on the stones.

“You’re really good at this tracking thing,” she said, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look.

His heart jumped into his throat. “I—I mean, it’s just something I’ve done a lot!” he stammered, his cheeks tinged with pink as he straightened too quickly, almost tripping over his own feet. “Years of practice, you know. Nothing special.”

Y/N tilted her head, oblivious to his awkwardness. “It is special. You’ve got a knack for this stuff, Phainon. I don’t think we’d even know where to start without you.”

Phainon blinked, his cheeks turning an even darker shade of pink. “R-really? You think so?”

“Of course,” she said brightly. “You’re basically leading the whole investigation. It’s impressive!”

Phainon looked away, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to suppress a goofy grin. “I mean, well, someone has to do it… but thank you!”

Before Y/N could say more, a sudden rustling sound came from the trees to their left. Phainon froze, his smile vanishing as he instinctively stepped in front of Y/N, his hand hovering near the hilt of his sword.

“What was that?” Y/N whispered, her voice a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Stay behind me,” Phainon said, his usual playful tone replaced by a rare edge of seriousness. “It could be one of the creatures.”

They waited, the rustling growing louder. Then, with a burst of motion, something small and fast darted out of the underbrush.

“Ah!” Y/N jumped back, but Phainon had already drawn his sword in one smooth motion, the blade gleaming faintly in the dim light.

“Wait,” Y/N said, squinting. “Is that… a bird?”

Sure enough, a small, scruffy bird hopped into view, its feathers ruffled and its beady eyes glaring at them like they’d just interrupted its meal. It flapped its wings once in irritation before waddling off into the bushes again.

Phainon stood there, sword still raised, staring at the spot where the bird had disappeared. Slowly, he lowered his weapon and let out a sheepish laugh. “Uh… false alarm.”

Y/N burst out laughing, clutching her sides. “Phainon, that bird looked like it was ready to fight you!”

“Well, it caught me off guard!” he defended, laughing along with her. “It could’ve been something dangerous!”

“Sure,” she teased. “A very dangerous… tiny bird.”

Phainon sighed dramatically, sheathing his sword. “Mock me if you must. But remember, I’m here to protect you from all creatures—big or small.”

“You’re doing an excellent job,” she said between giggles.

Her words, though playful, still made Phainon’s cheeks heat up again. “T-thanks,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

They continued down the trail, the shimmering residue becoming more noticeable as they approached a clearing. The mist thinned, revealing a cluster of ancient stone pillars, each one etched with faintly glowing runes.

“Whoa,” Y/N breathed, stepping closer to one of the pillars. “These look ancient. Do you think they have something to do with the creatures?”

“Possibly,” Phainon said, his voice quieter now as he examined the runes. “The outskirts are full of strange things like this. I don’t know much about their history, but these markings… they’re similar to ones I’ve seen before near Titan ruins.”

“Titan ruins?” Y/N looked at him, impressed. “things are getting more interesting, I'm glad I have you here"

Phainon blushed again, suddenly feeling like his coat was too warm. “It’s… uh, nothing, really. Just part of the job.”

“You’re way too humble,” she said, shaking her head. “Give yourself some credit, Phainon.”

Before he could respond, another sound broke through the air—this time a low, guttural growl. Both of them froze, their eyes darting toward the source of the noise.

“Well,” Phainon said, his cheerful tone faltering slightly, “I don’t think that’s a bird.”

Y/N grinned, drawing her weapon. “Finally! Some action!”

“Action?” Phainon echoed nervously, his hand moving to his sword again. “What kind of action are we talking about here?"

The low growl turned into a rumble, and the ground beneath their feet trembled. Emerging from the shadows of the ancient stone pillars were creatures that looked like they were chiseled straight from the earth itself. Their bodies were made of jagged stone, glowing cracks spreading across their limbs like molten veins. Their heads were featureless save for the hollow, blazing orange orbs that seemed to serve as eyes.

“Okay, now that’s definitely not a bird,” Phainon muttered, unsheathing his sword in one swift motion.

“Phainon,” Y/N said with a grin, her own blade already drawn and gleaming. “You’ve fought these things before, right?”

“Uh… sure!” he said, his usual confidence slightly wavering as the creatures lumbered closer. “They’re slow, but don’t let them corner you. Aim for the cracks—they’re weak points!”

“Got it,” she replied, shifting into a ready stance.

Before Phainon could say anything else, one of the creatures lunged forward with surprising speed, its rocky fist slamming into the ground where Y/N had been standing a split second earlier. She darted to the side with the grace of a dancer, her blade flashing as she struck at the glowing crack along the creature’s arm.

The impact sent a spray of sparks flying, and the creature roared in pain, stumbling back. Y/N didn’t let up. She pivoted on her heel, slicing upward in a clean arc that severed part of the monster’s arm.

Phainon blinked, momentarily frozen as he watched her. “W-wow…” he mumbled, then quickly shook himself out of it when another creature charged at him.

“Focus, Phainon!” Y/N called, sidestepping another attack with ease.

“Right! Focus! I’m totally focused!” he yelled, leaping into action.

Phainon parried a heavy blow from his opponent, his sword ringing loudly as it clashed with the stone creature’s fist. He danced backward, grinning as he feinted to the left before delivering a precise strike to its glowing chest. The creature groaned and crumbled into a pile of rubble.

“Not bad!” Y/N called over her shoulder, slashing through another monster with an impressive flurry of strikes.

“Not bad?” Phainon repeated, his golden-retriever energy kicking into overdrive as he sliced through a smaller creature trying to flank him. “I’ll have you know, I’m amazing at this!”

As if to prove his point, he spun dramatically, striking the creature’s chest in one fluid motion. The monster staggered and collapsed, but in his enthusiasm, Phainon misjudged the swing and nearly tripped over its remains.

Y/N laughed, glancing back at him. “Careful, ‘Amazing.’ Don’t let your feet betray you.”

Phainon straightened, cheeks burning. “That was just… strategy! I wanted it to think I was vulnerable.”

“Sure you did.”

Another creature roared and lunged toward Y/N, its massive fists slamming down in an attempt to crush her. She jumped back, then forward, using the momentum to propel herself up onto the creature’s arm. In one fluid motion, she ran up its shoulder, her sword gleaming as she drove it down into the crack in its neck.

The monster let out a guttural sound before crumbling beneath her, its glowing eyes dimming. Y/N landed lightly on her feet, flicking her sword to the side to shake off the dust.

Phainon gaped. “Okay, that… that was amazing.”

Y/N turned to him, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “Thanks,” she said with a casual smile, as if she hadn’t just dismantled a walking pile of stone like it was nothing. “Your turn.”

Before Phainon could respond, the largest of the creatures emerged from the shadows, its molten veins pulsing with an ominous glow. It was twice the size of the others, its fists like boulders and its eyes blazing with fury.

Phainon gulped. “Alright. Big guy. No problem.”

Y/N smirked. “Want me to handle it?”

“No, no!” he said quickly, stepping forward and twirling his sword. “I’ve got this! Watch and learn!”

The creature roared, charging at him like an avalanche. Phainon dodged to the side at the last second, slashing at the cracks along its side. Sparks flew, but the beast didn’t falter. It swung its massive arm, forcing Phainon to duck and roll out of the way.

“You’re doing great!” Y/N called, clearly enjoying herself.

“I’m trying not to die!” Phainon shouted back, though his grin was still plastered on his face.

He darted around the creature, his movements quick and agile. With a sharp leap, he managed to climb onto its back, his sword glowing faintly as he struck at the cracks near its neck. The creature howled, thrashing violently to shake him off.

“Hang on, Phainon!” Y/N called, readying herself to step in if needed.

“I’ve got it!” he yelled, though his grip on the creature’s jagged surface was less than reassuring. With one final strike, his blade sank deep into the glowing crack, and the monster let out a deafening roar before collapsing to the ground.

Phainon rolled off just in time, landing in an ungraceful heap. He quickly scrambled to his feet, brushing the dirt off his coat as if nothing had happened.

“See?” he said, turning to Y/N with a triumphant smile. “Told you I had it.”

Y/N laughed, walking over to him. “I’ll admit it—you were pretty impressive.”

Phainon’s grin faltered for half a second as her words sank in, and the familiar warmth crept up his neck. “I… uh… really? You think so?”

“Of course,” she said with a bright smile. “You took down the big guy all on your own. Not bad at all.”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at her. “Oh, it was nothing, really. Just, you know… part of the job.”

“Sure,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You’re too humble, Phainon. Own it.”

He opened his mouth to respond but was interrupted by Tribbie’s voice echoing through the mist.

“Guys? Did you leave anything for us, or are we just cleaning up rubble over here?”

Y/N and Phainon exchanged a glance before bursting into laughter.

“Let’s regroup,” Y/N said, sheathing her sword.

Phainon nodded, his smile softening as he followed her back toward the others, his heart still pounding—but not from the fight.

The group reconvened in a small clearing not far from the crumbled remains of the stone creatures. The mist had thinned, and the faint hum of energy from the ancient pillars seemed to fade, leaving a tense silence in its wake.

Tribbie had already set up a makeshift picnic on a large, flat stone, her red hair glowing faintly under the filtered sunlight. Her blue eyes sparkled with excitement as she waved the others over.

“Perfect timing! I brought snacks!” Tribbie chirped, pulling out a variety of treats from her impossibly small bag. “You know what makes monster fighting better? Food!”

Dan Heng stood nearby, arms crossed and expression unreadable as always, but he glanced toward the food with mild interest. Trailblazer, however, was already sitting down, grabbing one of Tribbie’s sandwiches.

“Oh, come on,” Tribbie pouted, slapping Trailblazer’s hand away. “Wait until everyone’s seated, you greedy gremlin!”

Y/N chuckled as she and Phainon approached. “Looks like we’re just in time.”

Phainon, as usual, was all smiles. “Tribbie, you’re a lifesaver! I don’t suppose you have anything sweet in there?”

“Of course I do,” she replied with a grin. “But only if you tell me how many monsters you crushed today.”

“Crushed?” Phainon placed a hand on his chest, feigning offense. “Tribbie, I don’t crush monsters—I defeat them with style and precision.”

“Oh, excuse me, ‘Mr. Style and Precision.’ Sit down before I take it all back.”

Everyone chuckled as they settled in, the tension from the fight dissipating in the warmth of camaraderie. Y/N sat beside Phainon, who was still grinning from Tribbie’s teasing.

As the group began eating, Y/N noticed something out of the corner of her eye. Phainon was trying—and failing—to hide a wince as he reached for a piece of bread.

“Phainon,” Y/N said, her tone shifting from playful to concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing’s wrong!” he said quickly, straightening up like a guilty child caught sneaking cookies. “Why would you think anything’s wrong?”

Y/N didn’t buy it for a second. Her eyes dropped to his arm, where a faint tear in his sleeve revealed a nasty scrape along his forearm. The edges of the wound were smeared with dust and a faint trace of glowing residue.

“Phainon,” she said again, this time more firmly. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing!” he insisted, waving her off. “Barely a scratch. You should’ve seen the other guy!”

Y/N gave him a pointed look, crossing her arms. “That’s not a scratch, and you know it. Let me see.”

“It’s really not that ba—”

“Phainon.” Her voice left no room for argument.

He hesitated, his golden-retriever energy momentarily dampened by the sheer force of her determination. With a sheepish smile, he extended his arm. “Fine, fine. But I’m telling you, I’ve had worse.”

Y/N ignored his protests, pulling a small first-aid kit from her bag. She crouched beside him, carefully examining the wound. “You’re lucky it’s not deeper. This residue looks like it might irritate the skin. Hold still.”

Phainon sat stiffly as Y/N cleaned the wound with surprising gentleness. Her focus was entirely on her work, her touch steady and sure.

“You don’t have to fuss over me, you know,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“I’m not fussing,” she replied without looking up. “I’m making sure you don’t get an infection. There’s a difference.”

He laughed nervously, trying not to notice how close she was. Her hair brushed against his shoulder as she leaned in to wrap a bandage around his arm.

“There,” she said after a moment, tying the bandage securely. “All done."

Phainon looked down at his arm, then back at her. “Thanks, Y/N. Really.”

She smiled at him, and before he could say more, she reached up and ruffled his hair.

“You did so good out there,” she said warmly. “I mean it. You were amazing.”

Phainon froze, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The words “you did so good” echoed in his head like a mantra, and the way she said it—so genuine, so casual—completely disarmed him.

“I—uh—well—” he stammered, his face rapidly turning as red as Tribbie’s hair.

Tribbie, who had been watching the whole scene out of the corner of her eye, nudged Trailblazer with a knowing grin. “Look at him. Poor guy doesn’t know what hit him.”

Trailblazer smirked but stayed quiet, munching on a piece of bread. Dan Heng sighed, his expression as neutral as ever, but there was a faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.

Oblivious to the growing amusement of their companions, Y/N stood up and stretched. “Alright, everyone ready to get moving? I think we’re on the right track!”

Phainon, still sitting there with his hair slightly mussed and his face glowing, finally managed a weak nod. “Y-yeah. Let’s go.”

As the group packed up and prepared to continue their journey, Tribbie leaned over to Phainon with a sly grin. “Don’t worry,” she whispered. “I think you’re doing great, Mr. Style and Precision.”

Phainon groaned, covering his face with his hand. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

“Nope,” she said cheerfully, skipping ahead to join Y/N.

And despite his embarrassment, Phainon couldn’t stop smiling.

_______________________________________

A.N . First, I didn't plan on making a part 2 because I didn't expect people to actually like it that much, but I'm happy you guys enjoy it l, I'll try to make this little love story interesting ♡

[pboogerswbb]

SO IT GOES - chapter 5

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual themes and language, drinking, not my best work lol Wordcount: 6.6K A/C: so have we come up with a shipname for zari and paige yet?? anyways ty all for the support and sooo much love on the last part - especially those who remained patient for a new part! i've got a LOT of stuff going on rn so please be understanding if parts take a little longer to come out! i wanna write badly but i gotta prioritise real life unless y'all wanna start paying me lol anyways, this should be a rewarding chapter to some of y'all!! anyways go read!!

-

Before London

“The skirt,” my childhood friend Olivia’s voice filters through the speaker, my phone set up on my bed as I try on different outfits for the evening on facetime. 

I stare into my reflection, the black miniskirt not leaving much to imagination, my legs fully on display. I sigh, unsure whether it would be too much for the night.

“I don’t know Liv, the dress is a little less revealing though,” I complain, turning around and seeing the way the tight skirt hugs my curves.

“Exactly why you should wear the skirt instead.”

I laugh, shaking my head at her face on my phone screen. “I’m not going there to shag someone. It’s going to be mostly the team anyway.”

“Izzie, you are single now. Act like it. Have you even hooked up with anyone since…?”

I scoff. “Do you think I have time for anything like that?”

“Maybe if you schedule it in…” Olivia jokes, making my mouth fall open feeling offended.

“Hey! I’m perfectly happy being single right now. Love is the last thing I should be thinking about.”

“Well, I still think you should wear the skirt,” the girl answers, making me groan.

“Fine, okay gotta go. I’ll text you!” I wave bye, before hanging up, realising my ride must have arrived. One more glance in the mirror and I decide it will do - the black mini skirt and a matching black cowl neck top, the back draped low to reveal the smooth skin of my back along my spine. The outfit was simple yet sexy, the stacked chunky golden jewelry dressing the look up. I’ve pinned my hair up in a bun, curls falling out as if by accident - in reality the hairdo had taken over 45 minutes to accomplish.

“Good enough,” I murmur to myself, putting on my boots and quickly hurrying out the door. Just like we had agreed, Trey is waiting in an Uber, waving me over. He had sent me a message earlier asking if we could ride together. Of course I had said yes out of politeness. Though if I’m honest, I always felt a little uneasy around him.

“Hey!” I smile politely climbing into the backseat with a potted orchid in my hands.

Trey meets my smile with an even wider one, eyeing me up and down as I buckle my seatbelt.

“Housewarming present?” He asks, pointing to the potted flower. I shrug and nod.

“I didn’t really know what to get them,” I admit, crossing my legs and eyeing the purple and white flower.

“Lala’s gonna love that,” Trey nods, his eyes still locked on me and my outfit. “You look…” he goes silent, and from my peripheral vision I see the man shaking his head. “Really good.”

“Oh, thanks,” I mumble, brushing it off lightheartedly as I grab my phone which is frantically buzzing.

Paige  When are u coming? I’m already here and idk anyone Oh nvm Lou and Chris are here So… when u coming???

I feel my stomach doing flips as I read the texts, my mind still swirling with how she’d made me breakfast just earlier this morning. How my couch still smells just like her even hours later. I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something comforting about her presence. The way she worked to make me laugh, to get me to relax. Like she wanted to take care of me.

Just left so I should be there soon x

Izzie Iz Help We’re drinking wine

Time to be a big girl and learn Paige

But I don’t wanna 🙁 Fine Bc you said so

Good girl

Freaky 😏

Paige

Sorry I pregamed

Of course you did I’ll be there soon x

Giggling at my phone, I place it on my lap, not wanting to be rude towards the man sitting next to me. Trey’s eyes are locked on me, and I can feel myself growing uneasy, especially when I realise I have nothing to talk to him about other than work.

”You excited for tonight?” He asks.

”Yeah, it’s going to be nice to see everyone out of work,” I answer, keeping my composure despite feeling awkward, begging he doesn’t pick up on it. I had become quite good at that (or Trey was more ignorant than I realised).

”Oh yeah, you haven’t really had the chance to do that yet huh?” He asks, his deep voice gravelly.

“Not really no.”

“Well, if you ever get lonely, you can always call me up Zari,” Trey says, reaching over and suddenly placing his hand on mine resting on my lap. I keep still as long as I can before pulling it away, pretending I just needed that specific hand to hold the pot in my lap now.

“Uh, yeah that’s really sweet of you. Thank you,” I chuckle awkwardly. “Paige lives right upstairs actually so I’ve been spending some time with her.”

Trey is taken aback, his brows rising. “Paige?”

“Yeah we’re friends,” I smile. Trey’s dark brown eyes keep watching me, clearly thinking about something till he shrugs and looks away. 

The drive is quiet, full of awkward comments by the man clearly eager to make conversation. Normally I was better than this at the small talk that the Americans seemed to love so much - but not today. I could feel my stomach twisting with nerves and butterflies in anticipation for the evening. I wasn’t entirely sure why. But all I knew I was eager to see Paige - she had a way of grounding me.

We finally get to the building, awkwardly accompanying each other in the elevator much like my first day working for the Wings. I’m the one to ring the doorbell, Trey standing close behind me.

“Hey pretty girl!” Lala opens the door with a warm smile. “Oh hey Trey, come in come in!”

She steps aside, letting both of us in. The hallway is long and the ceilings are high, the space modern but filled with gorgeous furniture bringing warmth into the space. 

“Wow, beautiful,” I gasp looking around.

“Issa work in process,” Lala laughs. I catch a glimpse into the open concept kitchen/living room, filled with people who had arrived on time unlike me and Trey (our Uber had taken a “shortcut”, which ended up taking 15 minutes longer than the normal drive.) I could tell alcohol was already flowing from the loud laughs echoing around the apartment.

“Oh, here you go!” I smile, handing Lala the orchid. “I wasn’t sure what you two wanted so I hope that’s okay.”

Lala gasps, admiring the plant. “No, this is gorg! And so are you, look at that skirt girl.”

I blush a little as she spins me around, admiring my outfit. 

“Is it too short?” I ask but Lala looks at me with raised brows. It’s then I notice her skirt is just as short, if not shorter. “Nevermind!”

The woman laughs, wrapping an arm around my waist and bringing me further into the apartment. My eyes immediately land on Paige next to Arike, both taking up half of the couch as if partaking in the Olympics of manspreading. Their laughs rise above the chatter of the crowd, making them impossible to miss. Even if subconsciously I had been looking for the blonde the second I stepped in.

“Yeah… they’re already drunk, thought you should know,” Lala nods towards the two.

“I heard, Paige was texting me already.”

The woman turns to me grinning a little. “Of course she was.” I’m not exactly sure what it means but don’t get the opportunity to ask before I hear a loud screech interrupting the both of us.

“Izzie!!” Paige gasps, her voice soaring above the noise. She climbs off the couch, rushing to me through the crowd. To my surprise the blonde wraps her arms around me, pulling me into a tight hug. I can’t help the smile that spreads to my face. It comes naturally, when my arms wrap around her neck, pulling her in. Like since our first hug this morning, physical closeness felt easy. She smells like deodorant, sandalwood and a hint of alcohol. Breaking the hug, I eye her fit up and down - the olive cuban collar shirt and shorts in a matching pattern, two silver chains dangling on her neck, hair in a slicked back bun. 

All while I’ve been admiring Paige’s outfit, her gaze has been roaming across my body, taking me in. I notice a hint of red burning on her cheeks when her blue eyes land on my skirt. Suddenly I have the strongest need for a drink. Our stares meet, and for a fleeting moment I think she’s about to say something. But before she can, Arike is pulling me into a friendly hug.

“So glad you came, Zari! Whatchu wanna drink?” 

I feel flustered, barely hearing her. Clearing my throat, I finally answer, feeling the blonde’s eyes boring into me.

“White wine please?”

Lala laughs, shaking her head and grabbing my shoulders. “You’re gonna need something stronger to keep up with us baby.”

I laugh. “Okay, tequila soda then?”

“Attagirl, lime?”

“Yes please,” I nod, watching Lala and Arike head towards the kitchen island covered in bottles of booze and glasses, leaving me alone with Paige. 

For the first time in weeks, there’s a sense of awkwardness between us, neither of us knowing what to say. I wanted to tell her she looks good, that the olive against her skin that had grown more tan in Dallas made her glow in a way I had never seen before. But something in my throat doesn’t allow the words to come out. Thankfully the booze in Paige’s system makes her miss the weird tension completely.

“You look,” she starts, stepping closer to me, arm brushing against mine. She shakes her head, looking me up and down which is enough to make my ears burn. “Never seen you look like this before.”

I tilt my head, meeting her blue eyes challengingly. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

To my enjoyment, this makes her flustered, her cheeks bright pink now.

“You know it is ma,” she grins.

“You and that bloody nickname,” I shake my head, rolling my eyes at the blonde, when Lala and Arike return to us with my drink.

“You guys wanna play beer pong?” Arike asks as I grab the glass from Lala.

“What is this, a frat house?” Paige laughs, making Lala groan.

“Trust, it wasn’t my choice.”

-

After a long debate between me, Izzie, Arike and Lala on who should be teaming up, we decided that the only fair combination was me with Lala, while Arike and Izzie played against us - the girls claiming it wouldn’t be right for the two hoopers to play beer pong against non-athletes. Honestly, I barely had listened to the conversation at all. Because the way Izzie looks tonight has me grasping the drink in my hand so tight my knuckles were beginning to turn white. My mind is travelling to the filthiest places at the thought of what is underneath the hemline of her skirt, her glowy legs making me weak in the knees. Even worse was the low, scooped back of her shirt, her spine’s movement visible as she walked around the room. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I couldn’t even stop the trembling of my hands. I needed to get more drinks in me quickly.

It seemed like the dark haired girl had the same idea, downing her first tequila soda in a matter of minutes as we set up the game. The tension often visible on her face only to me was slowly beginning to melt away.

“We’re about to win aight?” I tell Lala next to me, which makes Izzie let out a loud scoff.

“You really think I’ll let you win Bueckers?” The dark haired girl asks, challenging me.

“Yo, who’s the athlete here,” I respond, an arrogant grin on my face but she won’t back down, catlike eyes staring me down at the opposite end of the table.

“You’re enormously underestimating my desire to win.”

“Oh yeah?”

Izzie nods. “Yes Paige.”

And she’s right. I don’t know if it’s the alcohol already flowing in my system, or the way Izara looks, her green eyes locked on me everytime I bounce the ball off the table but my aim is off. And somehow she keeps aiming perfectly, a sly grin and her sharp eyes glimmering as she makes me drink one cup of beer after another, after another until Lala is the one to call it off, admitting defeat gracefully.

Arike and Izara hug, celebrating their win, but I can’t even be mad - the way Izzie’s mouth is stretched into a wide smile, the way she was letting go off her disciplined, hard exterior as a result of the alcohol was such a joy to watch I could’ve soaked in it forever.

“I told you! I told you!” Iz laughs, coming over to me and getting up in my face. But all I’m doing is smirking, my hand snaking around her waist and pulling her close without thinking about it much. But she doesn’t pull away either, even when our fronts nearly press together, heat radiating between us. The party has turned loud, drunk people bumping into each other, yelling over the music, but all I see is the dark haired girl in front of me, and the blush on her cheeks.

“You were cheating Iz,” I tell her, heavy eyes gazing down at the girl.

“How?” She asks, stunned.

I shrug. “I dunno.” I did know. It was that damn outfit. It took every ounce of self-discipline I had not to drag her to the bathroom and pull that skirt up. How was I expected to aim while my thoughts were running out of control.

“Here you areeeee!” Satou’s voice interrupts the moment, making me stumble backwards and letting go of the girl in my arms realising how close I’d been to losing control and leaning down to kiss her.

Satou hugs both me and Iz, looking around for the couple of the hour who have suddenly disappeared. “Where the lovebirds at?” She asks, holding a wrapped present in her hands. I chuckle shrugging but Zari lets out a giggle.

“Last I saw them they were getting pretty cosy,” she laughs, leaning into my side whether on purpose or on accident I’m not sure. But it leaves my skin tingling.

“No one’s surprised,” Satou laughs, waving her friend over. “Savannah, this is Paige and… Izara, right?” 

“She prefers Zari,” I correct before Iz can even say a word. From my peripheral vision I see her head snap to me, eyes growing softer as they land on me. I could tell she was happy with me, which made me want to get on my knees and beg for her to let me serve her forever. Okay, no, let me get a grip.

“Whassup,” I nod at Savannah, who smiles at both me and Izzie. Suddenly, the girl beside me stumbles as someone bumps into her, crashing straight into me.

“Woah,” I grab a hold of her, my hand naturally landing on the small of her back. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she giggles, watching me and her nose scrunching as her face twists into a laugh. The sparkling eyeshadow covering her eyelids makes her shine even more, curled strands falling onto her face out of the updo her long, dark hair is in. She looks so beautiful I feel breathless, even more so up close.

“You want a drink ma? I could use one,” I ask, staring into the green of her eyes, feeling the alcohol too much to realise that our faces are only inches away at this point.

She rolls her eyes. “Paige, I hate that nickname.”

“Do you want a drink or not woman?” I ask annoyed, teasing her. But her face hardens, and her eyes sharpen.

“Excuse me?”

Her tone is hard and serious, making my lower abdomen flip. As inappropriate as it feels, I’m exceptionally turned on.

I swallow, biting my lower lip. “Uh…”

“Woman?” She interrupts me, furrowing her brows. I can feel heat pooling between my legs, making my mind spin.

“I’m sorry,” I mumble, my voice coming out shaky from how flustered my thoughts had turned me.

“What’s that?” She asks, brows rising as she watches my mouth expectantly.

“I’m sorry Izzie,” I say louder, my chest heaving now. To my surprise, I notice her breathing is growing heavy too.

“Mhm, that’s better,” she nods, eyes still on my mouth as I bite down on my lower lip. And for just a second, as my eyes flicker from her eyes to her glossed lips, I consider leaning in and pressing a kiss on them, mind jumping to how she might taste. Like heaven I bet.

“So a drink then?” Iz asks, interrupting my spinning thoughts. 

“Oh right, yeah,” I compose myself, “we’ll be right back.”

We leave Satou and Savannah alone, my hand on the small of Izara’s back guiding her through the people to the kitchen island.

“What do we want to drink?” The girl asks, looking at the row of bottles lining the counter. I lean in even closer to her side, letting my hand drag from her back to around her waist. The girl’s breath hitches audibly, yet she doesn’t pull back.

“Shots! Now!” Arike suddenly interrupts us, Lala following close behind her.

“Bro where you been?” I ask, watching as she begins to pour shots of vodka for all four of us. Her and Lala exchange a look that tells me I don’t want to know the answer to my question.

“Nevermind,” I mumble, making Izzie giggle, the alcohol finally loosening her up.

“No, I really shouldn’t,” the dark haired girl shakes her head, pushing the shot away.

“Oh c’mooonnn!!” I groan, pushing it back.

“Yeah Zari, c’mon,” Rike complains.

I pick up my own shot glass, and Izara’s as well, bringing it to her lips. She’s considering, meeting my gaze, until her pretty lips open and I tip the glass, pouring the shot into her mouth as I throw my head back, swallowing mine. 

“Holy shit,” I cough, making everyone around me laugh, looking at the dark haired girl whose face doesn’t even twitch from the alcohol. Damn.

“And another oneeee,” Arike laughs, now pouring tequila into the glasses, clearly trying to get us two drunk. I glare at her, picking up on what she was up to. But Rike merely winks at me, handing us salt and lemon slices.

“Oh boy,” Izara chuckles, eyeing the alcohol. I follow closely as her tongue darts out to lick her wrist, my mind spinning with dirty thoughts involving that tongue between my le-

“Lemon!” The girl yelps, squeezing her eyes shut having taken the shot. I quickly grab the slice from the counter, holding Izzie’s face still by her chin as I place the wedge between her lips. Her teeth bite into it, sucking on the bitter fruit to get rid of the taste in her mouth.

Her dark lashes flutter open, and she pulls away with a grin. “Your turn.”

I scratch the back of my neck, feeling my tongue already growing numb from the alcohol, my speech certainly beginning to slur soon.

“Yo Zari, you should let Paige lick the salt from your wrist,” Arike yells from the opposite side of the counter, earning a slap on the shoulder from Lala.

“Huh?” Izara laughs, turning to the pair.

“Ignore her, God knows I do,” Lala rolls her eyes.

Flustered, I fumble with the salt shaker, licking it off my hand and downing the shot of tequila, feeling the burn in my throat making me want to cough. To my surprise, Iz brings the slice of lemon to my lips, the bitter taste putting an end to the burn.

I can feel the alcohol hitting, making my cheeks burn - or maybe it’s the way the dark haired girl is looking at me, her eyes even more catlike than normal, sparkling in the dimmed lighting. Either way I can feel my brain and mouth beginning to slow down, yet my words and actions seem simultaneously sped up, like I couldn’t think them through before doing.

“I’mma admit, I’m drunk as fuck,” I laugh, making Izara throw her head back and let out a bright chuckle, grabbing onto my shoulder as she does. Fuck she looks hotter than usual, the hard, poised exterior breaking, letting me catch little glimpses into her internal life, reminiscent of the softness on her face when she fell asleep on me.

“Let’s run away before Arike makes us take more shots,” she whispers and simultaneously somehow screams, grabbing my arm and dragging me down behind the island, as if Arike and Lala weren’t standing right on the other side, watching the two of us. Still I let her, crouching behind it and letting her drag me wherever she wants to. 

-

I love Dallas! Or maybe I should reconsider when I’m sober, but now that the shots and drinks had been flowing, I had decided I loved Dallas for certain. Paige and I have been hiding behind a corner, by the entrance to Arike’s and Lala’s bedroom, for the past hour, giggling and talking. I’ve realised Paige might be one of my favourite people I’ve ever met, the strain in my abs a reminder of how easily she made me laugh. How effortless it was to spend time with her, like I didn’t have to put up any exterior or front. I felt comfortable being myself with her. So naturally, in my drunken state, the words slip from my lips easily.

“You’re like, my favourite person right now,” I giggle, leaning my back against the cool wall and watching upwards at her. Paige’s eyes are heavy and red as a result of the alcohol, hair somehow still neatly slicked back, however a button on her chest left unbuttoned, displaying that she definitely wasn’t wearing a bra under the shirt.

“Yeah?” Paige asks, a proud smirk on her face. She’s standing in front of me, arms crossed.

“Don’t let it get into your head darling,” I scoff, pushing her off by her abdomen, feeling the muscles there tighten when my fingertips graze her through the shirt. For whatever reason I’d been wanting her to touch me all night, enjoying the times she wrapped her arm around my waist, or guided me through a crowd. It felt good to be touched, so I didn’t worry about what it meant further. I just wanted her hands on me. Like you’d want to hug a friend after remembering how much you love them.

“Why do you get to have all these nicknames but I don’t get to call you ma?” She asks, stumbling back but returning to her prior position, if not a little closer. I place my hands on her waist, having to tilt my head to look at her - that’s how close she is.

“Why do you want to call me ma?”

“Because,” she groans, looking for something to say. “Ion know it suits you.”

“Why?” I laugh.

“Because you’re sexy.”

I’m drunk. And I know it’s because I’m drunk. It has to be. But I can feel myself begin to throb between my legs when Paige says those words, when her teeth bite onto her bottom lip, when she looks me up and down. Suddenly I’m painfully aware of the swirling in my lower abdomen, the heat spreading straight to my core.

The blonde rubs the bridge of her nose. “Ahh shit Iz, I didn’t mean it like that. My bad. You just look really damn good. In like a friend wa-”

“You think I look sexy?”

It’s like my mouth and brain aren’t working together, the words just forming and leaving my lips without a single thought or action to stop them. For some reason it comes out almost whiny. Like I want her opinion, her reassurance.

Paige looks surprised, clenching her jaw before kissing her teeth and licking her lips, hands twitching as if for something to touch.

“I meannn… you really gotta ask that?” She says hoarsely, stepping closer and placing her hands on my hips. It feels good, but I want more, pushing my body off the wall and pressing my front against her. The sparks are immediate, and I nearly groan at the contact. 

“You didn’t answer,” I demand, staring into the blues of her eyes. Only then I realise how blue they really are, like a turquoise ocean against a sandy beach, inviting, beautiful. My heart begins to pound, even more so when I feel Paige’s hands move from my waist, downwards to my hips, to the small of my back, and finally to my ass. 

“Perfect,” she coos.

The breath she lets out is heavy, loud, but I barely register, my mouth parting a little. To say the chills travelling through my body are overwhelming would be an understatement, my mind suddenly spinning with realisation of something I’d been feeling for a while, yet only recognised now.

“Is this okay?” Paige asks, making me nod my head. When I do so I feel the blonde’s hands squeeze just a little, forcing a breathy whimper to spill from my lips. Overcome with the urge to be even closer to her, I wrap my arms around the girl’s broad shoulders and lean my head into the crook of her neck, my body slotting against hers just right. It feels euphoric.

 “Baby I would leave too if I was Paige, that poor girl got to deal with you on a daily basis alr-”

Suddenly Lala’s voice grows louder as she turns the corner, Arike on her tail. 

“Oh, sorry y’all,” the woman gasps seeing us embracing, Paige’s hands resting on my ass. Embarrassed, I pull away, nearly pushing the blonde off of me.

“Uh, I need a drink,” I murmur, my thoughts moving so quickly they make no sense, not even entirely sure what just happened in a drunken hue.

“Yoooo,” I hear Arike snickering, and Lala shutting her up.

Paige follows close behind me all the way back to the kitchen island, people around the apartment now notably drunker, louder, stumbling into each other. “You aight?” 

“Yeah, yes. I am,” I murmur, pouring whatever booze there was in reach into a glass and downing it, attempting to calm the running thoughts trying to make sense of all of this.

“You sure ma?”

Fuck. The nickname. Suddenly it’s making my core burn, and I feel arousal pooling between my legs almost uncomfortably. Maybe that nickname wasn’t so bad. Maybe it got me so hot and bothered I could barely think. Maybe I wanted her to call me that and only that for the rest of my life.

“Mm, I’m sure,” I mumble, turning to look at the tall blonde beside me, the way some of the buttons on her shirt have come undone, the way she’s eyeing me back, her veiny hands wrapping around a bottle as she pours herself another drink, the chains on her neck, dangling into her shirt. It’s then when I realise - I want to fuck Paige Bueckers.

“Here you are, Paige! Have you seen Satou?” Savannah interrupts us, but my eyes are still stuck on the blonde next to me.

“No, I got no idea where she is sorry.”

“What about your girlfriend, she seen her?”

Suddenly my eyes snap from Paige to the stranger leaning over the island, blinking stupidly.

“I’m not her girlfriend,” I say sternly, my tone harder than it needs to be. I could feel myself getting overwhelmed.

“Wh- oh shit, I’m sorry. You two just seem like a coup-”

“We’re not together,” Paige interrupts her, clearly picking up on my stress levels rising. I feel the room spinning, my breathing growing shallow, my cheeks burning up.

Lala, who had been watching me and the blonde all night, swiftly walks over and grabs me by the waist. “Come with me baby,” she coos, her voice caring and affectionate as she walks me into the couple’s bedroom, closing the door behind us, separating me from everything causing the engulfing emotions.

“Sit down Zari, I’ll get you some water.”

I do as the older woman says, feeling embarrassed, just praying to any God that I didn’t cause a scene. I could feel my head spinning still, the effect from the alcohol still flowing in my bloodstream.

Lala returns and hands me a glass. I chug it down, handing it back to the woman and staring at the floor.

“Are you alright?” Lala asks, sitting next to me and following me closely. I rub my forehead, shrugging.

“I’m sorry, I think I’m more drunk than I realised,” I murmur but the woman shakes your head.

“I think it’s more than that, Zari.”

I look at her, a knowing expression on the woman’s face.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s Paige isn’t it, you like her?”

I sigh, not even sure how to answer that question. Not sure at all what the feelings swirling inside me meant. 

“I… I just think I’m drunk-”

“She likes you,” Lala interrupts me. I take her words in, blinking slowly as I do. Paige likes me?

“How do you know?” I ask in a moment of vulnerability. Something about the older woman made me feel safe.

Lala chuckles, shaking her head. “I think everybody knows baby.”

Oh.

I’m speechless for once, staring at the wall, recounting every interaction I had ever had with the blonde girl. My friend. Could she really like me? Worse of all, have I led her on?

“Look, just be careful alright. Don’t give her the wrong idea if… you know, you don’t feel the same,” Lala rubs my shoulders, like reading my thoughts. It all confused me, my feelings most of all - and deep deep down I wasn’t sure about what I felt, my mind an entangled, confusing pile of perplexity.

-

“Hey you alright?” Paige murmurs to me, pressing into my back as I’m pouring myself more water in the kitchen after my little breather. My body is covered in chills once more by her proximity - which must be a sign I like her at least a little bit. Or maybe I’m just needy for someone to touch me. I was drunk after all, and it had been a while. But then again, these chills always occurred when the blonde’s hands were on me, sometimes even when they were not. Just a simple look was enough.

“Yeah, I felt a little dizzy. Feel better now though,” I murmur, finishing another glass of water.

Paige hesitates, chewing on her cheek, clearly in her head as I turn around and notice her expression. “I didn’t do too much ri-”

“Here you are!! I love this song, come dance!” A drunk Satou interrupts the moment, dragging both me and the blonde into the living room, not giving us much choice in the matter. 

“Song’s almost over,” Paige chuckles, glancing at me as I shrug but follow the two hoopers.

“Who cares, I love it!” Satou laughs. We’re surrounded by a few others, dancing to the Drake song echoing around the apartment. As the beat fades out, I hear the soft melody of What You Heard by Sonder take over.

“Nooo, boo, I’mma go ask for more Drake,” Satou murmurs, walking off, leaving me and Paige alone.

Our gazes meet and we chuckle at the same time at the girl who just left, clearly even drunker than me and Paige.

“Fuck your mind up, waste time, I'm prone to that, do it all the time, Keep your guard up or wait in line”

“This song is actually fire,” Paige grins and I nod.

“It is.”

I take a dip in her blue eyes, finding comfort in them as the song plays, not at all shocked when Paige steps closer and grabs a hold of my waist, swaying with me. The alcohol is still pumping through my veins, making it easy to wrap my arms around her neck without thinking what it might mean. It felt good to be close to her, so what?

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts.”

Paige sings along to the lyrics, the tiniest bit off-key yet something about it makes me grow flustered quickly, mind flashing with images of her doing exactly what the lyrics describe.

“What's the word? Tell me what you've heard, Don't tell me what to do, just tell me when it hurts, When I get you to myself, it's murder,” I sing back to Paige, our eyes meeting. Her eyelids are heavy from the drinks, and there’s a hint of a smirk on her face. Her silver chains sparkle in the dim lighting, but all I’m looking at is the way she’s staring me down.

Something about the alcohol makes me bold, pressing my body closer to hers, my fingernails scratching into the back of her neck gently, watching as her eyes nearly flutter shut at the contact.

“You be wildin', I be wildin', too, But not like you, shit, maybe a little like you, Maybe we ain't so different, maybe I be trippin', too,” we sing to each other, the blonde’s thumbs rubbing circles on my hips as we dance together. I feel the burn from earlier spread to my core once more, making it hard to think clearly. 

Our faces are inching closer, to the point where I can feel her hot breath on my skin. My heart begins to pound and it becomes difficult to keep my eyes open. Paige licks her lips, leaning downwards. For a moment I think she’s about to kiss me, the distance between us growing smaller and smaller - until she ghosts my lips, turning her face, mouth hovering right over my ear, warm breath tickling against my skin.

“If he was a winner, Girl, you wouldn't have to worry 'bout a damn thing, If I was up in it, shit, I bet a pound that I'd put it down, Make you forget that you was ever with him,” she murmurs into my ear with the lyrics of the song, left hand staying on my hip, right hand coming up to the back of my head to hold it still as we keep swaying to the melody.

I feel flustered, my cheeks growing hotter and my core aching for something. No, not for something - for Paige.

“And I hate talking 'bout my stroke game, But girl, I'm giving you the whole thing,” she murmurs with a deep, hoarse voice, my body tingling and on fire at the same time. 

Turning my face, my nose brushes into the blonde’s, but I’m too scared to open my eyes, too scared that if I do I’ll start thinking again, realising how senseless this entire situation is.

Paige’s nose nuzzles mine, and I can hear the shallowness of her breathing, her hand at the back of my head maneuvering me in a way so our lips are hovering over each other. I feel like I might pass out, my heart trying to race out of my chest at this point.

“Paige, Zari, I finally found herrrr!” Satou shouts over the crowd, making both of us pull away. My eyes shoot open and I see the girl holding her friend Savannah.

“Oh! Good!” I smile awkwardly, Paige’s hands still on me. 

“Jesus…” The blonde murmurs to herself, looking around clearly frustrated by the unwelcome interruption. “You wanna go to the balcony for, uh, some fresh air?”

“Yeah,” I nod, without thinking. I let the tall girl walk me onto the balcony, closing the door behind us.

Fresh air it is not, the weather a hot and humid warning for the approaching scorching Dallas summer. But it still feels right to be alone with Paige, under the dark Texas sky. I glance upwards, looking at the stars to avoid meeting the blonde’s stare.

“So damn hot,” Paige groans, unbuttoning her shirt even more to get more airflow, though I couldn’t care less. I’m only gazing at the way the chains on her neck rest against her skin.

“Yeah, it certainly is,” I mumble, leaning my back against the glass railing.

Paige looks at me with something I can’t recognise, her expression softening as she’s taking steps towards me. “Fuck, that accent,” she murmurs, her hands easily finding their way to my waist again.

“What do you mean?” I laugh.

She shrugs. “I dunno, I just love hearing you talk.”

I chuckle, bringing my hand to her chest and playing with the chain there, number 5 dangling off it. Paige grins too, continuing.

“And the things you say too.”

I scoff, displeased. “Like what?”

“I dunno! British things!”

“British things??” I ask, laughing so hard my stomach begins to hurt, my fingers still fiddling the number 5.

“Like… Taking the piss!” She laughs, leaning closer. I bend forward too, my face scrunching as pearls of giggles spill from my mouth.

“Oh my God, you’re so stupid,” I murmur in a blur of joy, my hand snaking behind her head. In the haze of the alcohol and the giggles and the newfound feelings, before I can think it through, I’m pulling her down by the chain and her head, leaning closer and kissing her.

It’s heaven. Every nerve in my body is on fire. The blonde’s lips open for me, slowly but sensually sliding against mine. My legs feel weak, and my nails dig into the skin of her neck, a whimper leaving my mouth but she swallows it, groaning in response. Her hands squeeze my waist before moving to my face, landing on my jaw to keep me as close as possible - like she might die if I pull away.

I’m pressed closer to the glass behind my back as the kiss grows hungrier. Paige’s mouth opens further, her tongue darting out to slide against my lower lip, begging for entry with a small whine slipping from the blonde’s mouth. It’s like everything pent up was finally releasing, something I didn’t even know was there, bubbling right underneath the surface. My tongue meets Paige’s, both of us melting into the kiss. I feel like putty in her hands, like she could mold me whichever way possible. This is the best kiss I’ve ever experienced, I know that for sure. Jasper always kissed in such a stiff, forceful way. Right. Jasper.

It takes me back to the moment, as if for a sliver of a second I can think clearly. What the fuck am I doing. This isn’t me. I haven’t thought this through at all. I’m leading Paige on.

Abruptly I pull back for air, the taller girl already dragging me back into another kiss needily. But I push Paige back by her chest, stopping her. We’re both breathing heavily, staring at each other. What the fuck am I doing.

“I have to go, I’m sorry,” I mumble, shoving her off me as gently as I can, saying quick goodbyes to Lala and Arike before practically running down the stairs and throwing myself into a cab, leaving Paige upstairs as if nothing happened. The only proof of the night’s events merely the way my lips still burn and tingle, and my racing heart and swirling mind trying to make sense of everything.

-

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[surielstea]

Strings Attached

Based on this request.

Pairing: Helion x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader has had a crush on Helion for awhile now but feels inadequate when compared to the partners he brings to bed.

Warnings: fluff | Suggestive | Slight angst

3.3k words

The giggling in the room next to mine has me fighting back from hurling my guts out.

Helion was with yet another female tonight— perhaps multiple based on the sound emitting through the walls. Some part of me felt anger, everyone who was interested in the male seemed to get the chance to roll in the sheets with the High Lord while I sat in my room alone, trying to ignore the obnoxious thudding of the headboard against the connecting wall.

I put a sound shield over his room for him, he seemed to forget half the time which left me restless and annoyed.

Finally, at peace with the quiet, I release a soft sigh and my head comes down onto my pillow. The brunette that he led into his room tonight was particularly gorgeous, with long dark locks and beautiful caramel-colored skin. She was from the Summer court, cousin to the Day court. She looked like she'd been bathed in the sun, like not a single cloud had ever settled over her.

I was from the night court.

Born in the hewn city and fleeing the court entirely when Amarantha was defeated after those long years Under the Mountain.

It was noticeable I didn't belong in this court, this palace, the libraries, or the shops. I'd get looks of all sorts from strangers or other court members who thought it best for me to return to where I came from.

Helion made me his second in command after a few years of serving as his emissary. I've been with him for nearly a decade now and my feelings towards the high lord have yet to fizzle away. He's my best friend, yet I couldn't help imagining something more than just being on the sidelines, I wanted to be looked at the way he gazed at potential partners, wanted to be touched, and loved the way the females rave about as they're leaving the palace.

In between thoughts I manage to slip into a gentle sleep, a light slumber that I could easily be startled from. The large bed felt empty like I was drowning in it, like I needed someone next to me to make sure I didn't fall through the mattress.

________

I was standing at my workbench, bright light shining down onto my most recent invention. I peered through my magnifying glass at the inner mechanics, making sure all the gears shifted with each other as they spun. I've been fiddling with the small device for a while now but haven't been able to get it just right. "Let's try this again," I mumble before pressing the button atop the small cube. It makes a quiet beep and my brows shoot up. "Testing," I say into the microphone of the cube.

"You're so smart, starlight." A familiar voice makes me jump and I whirl around to face the High Lord. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." He hums and I flush, taking my eyes away from the handsome male and back to my invention. He walks over to me, the warmth of his skin radiating onto me. "What is it?" He tilts his head as he peers over my shoulder.

"A recording device," I say, glancing at him— which I realize was a bad idea because, Cauldron, he was so close. "If it works, we'll be able to start recording audio to put in our libraries for people who can't read,"  I explain and a soft smile curves his full lips.

"Genius." He hums. "It's not finished yet." I wave him off and press the button atop the recording device and set it down.

"Did you need something?" I turned to him fully, he wasn't wearing his crown or any golden jewelry, just glowing dark skin contrasted with his clean white robe. "I can't pester my favorite emissary?" He arches a brow, and my heartbeat quickens.

"I'm your only emissary." I remind him, cleaning up my workspace as he toys with a pair of miniature tweezers, his calloused hands seemingly too large to even hold the tool. "That doesn't mean you can't be my favorite." He mumbles, concentrating on picking up an even smaller screw from the desk with the tweezers.

"Helion," I pluck the tool from his hands and he pouts dramatically at me. "I was only going to ask if you'd like to join me for dinner, but you seem busy." He knocks on the wood as a farewell and takes a few steps away. "Wait," I look to him. "I could eat." I shrug and a wide smile spreads over his sharp features. "Follow me then."

Helion leads me down the halls of the palace, I still marveled at the beauty of this place despite living here for nearly a decade now. The high ceilings held up by large pillars, the floor-to-ceiling windows putting the Court outside on display in a decoration of its own, the crystal clear lake that spreads on the right side of the residence reflects the moonlight right onto the white palace, making it reflect and shimmer like a sun.

"Amilia?" Helion calls as we enter the long dining hall lit by golden chandeliers and tall, skinny candles. "Yes, my lord?" A kitchen maid scuffs into the room with bright green eyes and large voluminous curls. "I have a guest joining me for dinner, we'll need the table set for three." He informs and the maid bows her head with a soft smile. "Right away Lord Helion." She turns on her heel and shuffles towards the kitchen. "Thank you!" The male hums as she disappears behind the swinging doors.

"Three plates?" I ask curiously, coming up to his side. "Not just us?" I say and he looks at me with raised brows. "I have another courtier coming to meet with me from the Dawn court, but I'd be happy to cancel so it's just us." He offers and I shake my head, hair swishing with the movement. "That's alright, I won't disrupt your schedule." I brushed him off, even if a buried part of me felt disappointed. It's been some time since I had some alone time with Helion, he always seemed to be busy as High Lord— or spell cleaver.

I walked over to the table and took up the seat I always sat in, directly beside the head of the table, where Helion planted himself. A maid came over and poured both of us glasses of white wine. I thank her and she nods before skittering away.

The doors to the dining hall open and both Helion and I look up to spot a butler accompanying a gorgeous female clad in lilac and rose-colored robes that draped over her full frame in long sweeping motions. Her deep brown hair was combed up into an intricate style, and the golden bangles at her wrists clanked against each other as she walked in like she owned the place. "Lady Basu." Helion stands with a polite tone. "Please, my lord; call me Imara." She begs of him in a delicate voice. Is she the courtier from Dawn?

"Then you can call me Helion." The Lord gives her a seductive smile. I was going to need more wine.

Dinner was utterly delicious if it weren't for my need to hold back gags every time the two in front of me obnoxiously flirted, I watched as she noticeably stared at him while wrapping her perfect lips around her fork. They weren't even discussing anything pertaining to the courts, perhaps I was blinded by jealousy but what was the point of this female being here if she wasn't going to mention where her court lies with alliances?

"Amilia?" I call the maid, neither of them notice but the female shuffles over to me with an inquisitive expression. "Can I have some more wine?" I ask her. She nods her head and pours the pitcher until my glass is full again. "You know what, I think I'll just take this." I reach for the decanter and her brows raise slightly but she allows me to have the pitcher before I put it down onto the table. Helion looks at me with creased brows but I don't say anything.

"Are you enjoying the food Imara?" The high lord hums. "I've had better things in my mouth." She teased and I nearly choked. "Is that right?" Helion's reply only makes me drink deeper from the goblet, chugging down the rest of the liquid until I'm refilling the glass again.

The flirting grows so insufferable that I have to take a deep breath to control myself from yelling at them to keep it in their pants or take it to the bedroom. So instead I stand up, grabbing my wine glass, my chair loudly scraping against the floor.

"You okay?" Helion looks to me concerned. "Fine, just tired." I brush him off. "I think I might turn in early," I add and he only nods. "Sweet dreams, starlight." He hums. "Good to meet you Imari," I give her a wave. "You as well." She smiles at me even though she's been glaring at me all meal like I was a threat, as if Helion would ever choose me over some drop-dead gorgeous female offering herself so openly to him.

Helion's fingers intertwined with mine and I look at him curiously, his warm hand somehow heating the entirety of my body right down to my very bones. "Get good rest, alright?" He smiles sadly and I get the feeling that he wasn't originally going to say that, that he’s holding back.

"I should be the one telling you that." I joke as I drop his hand but he doesn't laugh, instead, he looks at me with something tender and wanting, that gaze that makes butterflies awaken in my stomach. I ignore it, giving him a nod before spinning on my heel and walking towards the doors, thanking the cooks and maids on my way out without another word.

______

My hangover was pounding into my skull as I stood at the kitchen counter, peeling an orange as my negligent breakfast. Luckily the morning was quiet, the bird’s song flowing in through the open windows, goldfinches perched on the aspen trees outside.

I hum along to the familiar tune with a gentle smile at the tranquility of it, everything going so smoothly until the smell of ginger and honey floats into the room and I know Helion has entered.

"Starlight," He grins widely as he approaches, his hands behind his back like he's hiding something. I narrow my eyes at him skeptically, wondering what it was he kept tucked away from my vision. "How are you so awake?" I sighed with a slow blink. "It's daytime," He looks to the window. "Should I not be awake?" He arches a brow. I shake my head and return to peeling the rind from my fruit.

"Have a good night?" I tilt my head. "Eh," He shrugs and I scoff, a small smile forming on my lips at his dissatisfaction, something like precedence blooming in my chest.

"I have something for you." He bounces slightly on his heels and I look at him unamused, my migraine slowly fizzling away as he gazes at me. "Do you now?" I tilt my head and he nods, pulling his hands from behind his back and revealing a small black box meant for jewelry. "I felt bad last night, you seemed upset so I got you these at the markets this morning." He explains before cracking open the lid of the velvet box and revealing a stunning pair of earrings. A clear sunstone gem framed by gold plates, the stone dangling from a golden clasp.

My brows raised as I looked between him and the expensive gift. "Helion I can't take this," I shake my head. "Sure you can." He urges me. "You can’t just give me things because I'm the slightest bit upset." I sigh, taking the box from him. "Sure I can." He reiterates and a small smile forms over my features. "Thank you," I say, taking the earrings out of their box right then and there before sliding them into my earlobes.

He smiles and tucks my hair behind my pointed ears. The male grins cheekily and I look at him, with stained cheeks. "What?" I cross my arms over my chest. "You're the most beautiful female I've ever seen." He states proudly. I chuckle and tear my gaze away from him, his expression falls. "I'm serious, you are." He nods his head and I only shake my head and continue to peel the tangerine.

"No, I am not." I toss the rind in the trash, trying to ignore the fact that the air in the room has gotten noticeably thicker. "Do you think I'd lie about such things?" He seems genuine which only makes me want to laugh more.

"You lie to me all the time." I shrug and he looks at me like I've gone crazy. "Nonsense, name a time." He commands and I roll my eyes. "Just yesterday you told me I'd make the perfect high lady for the day court." I remind and he twists his lips to the side. "That doesn't sound like me." He shakes his head. I deadpan at him before removing the small invention I've been working on from the pocket of my dress and pressing the button on the bottom.

"Testing," My voice emits from it, louder than planned and all too close to the microphone. "You're so smart starlight," another voice sounds from the speakers of the cube. "You'd make the perfect high lady for this place." It quoted and I glared at him before turning off the invention and putting it back into my pocket. "It works!" He says excitedly and I glare at him.

"Alright fine, so I did say that but still; I didn't lie." He argues and I huff out a grumble of curses. "I'm a truthful male." He drones as I return to picking the spongey white excess along with the fruit of my orange. "No, you're a flirt," I grumble. "Can't I be both?" He shrugs and I shake my head. "No, not if you're telling me I'm the most beautiful girl you've ever seen whilst bedding females ten times prettier than me." I defend and his jaw falls slack, slightly taken aback at my prepared remark. "But they're not prettier than you." He admits and I avoid his gaze that seemed to be analyzing every move I made.

"Stop lying." I grit out and he releases a sigh, his arms coming to either side of my waist, trapping me between his muscular frame and the counter.

"I'm not. You're out of my league." He says breathlessly as if he couldn't believe it. I turn to look at him, my brows pulled tensely. "Then why can't I be one of them?" I utter and he blinks. "One of what?" He asks, his dark brows quirking together. "One of the females you take to bed, if I'm. So beautiful then why haven't you shown it?"

The look on his face was pure shock, his ears perked up at the sound of vulnerability coming from me. I begin to grow embarrassed at what I just confessed.

"Starlight," He sighs, looking down at me with remorseful eyes. "Those partners mean nothing, there's no emotion. I'm simply admiring an art piece, there's no strings attached." He explains and I wait for him to tell me whatever art I am isn't good enough.

"I don't want that with you." He confesses and I swore my heart stopped.

I look up at him with tears welling in my eyes. I wasn't ready to confess and didn't have the confrontation skills to tell him how I truly felt. I swallow thickly and nod. "I understand," I mutter, dipping my head down. His large hand comes up to cup my cheek, tilting my head back and forcing my gaze back to his. "I want the strings attached, with you, is what I mean." He explains and I blink a few times to make sure the make that stands in front of me is real.

"What are you saying?" I need clarification, what does that make us, what can I bear to him without showing my soul in its entirety?

"I'm saying that I want you, for a lot longer than just a night." His hand slips from my cheek to curl around the back of my neck, his thumb stroking along my jaw. "Helion," I warn and his eyes are soft, this is real, he wants this as much as I do. "I know it's unprofessional but—" He begins to argue and I lunge upward, slinging my arms over his shoulders and planting my lips onto his.

He stumbles back, his other hand coming to my hips as he immediately kisses me back. I smile against the feel of it. Gods, he tasted like honey. I pull him closer, his chest pressing into mine as I balance on my toes just so I can reach up to him. He hums against my lips before pulling back with a knowing smile. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," I admit and his eyes gleam with pure affection.

"I have some idea." He reassured me before dipping down again and this time taking my mouth entirely, my lower back pressed against the counter behind me, his hands dipped down, sliding along every inch of my body until finding purchase at my thighs and hoisting me up onto the counter, my legs immediately wrapping around his torso as he pried my mouth open with his tongue and I allow him to explore every inch, I've dreamed of this, fantasized of this. Every male I've ever been with never amounted to what could've been with Helion, and now I have it and I was never going to give it up.

My hands go into his hair, dragging through the black locks as he presses his wanting hips into mine. I begin to work at the top of his robes, dipping it off his shoulder. He backs away with a restrained movement. "We can wait." He pants out. "We can go slow," he reassured, staring at me with every ounce of self-discipline he possessed. "I don't want to wait," I shake my head. "I need you now," I add and a smile curves his lips— then a soft gasp releases from his lips, looking at the center of my chest with creased brows.

A sudden sort of devotion overwhelms my body and I look down, spotting a golden string, sprouting from my abdomen and tethering directly to his. "Mate," I mumble, the only thought racing through my head. My body heats at the realization and when he pulls me into a kiss this time it's pure adoration, in every movement he holds utmost love and respect.

"You're my mate," I mumble into his mouth and he nods with a smirk on his lips. "Wait—" I say and he immediately rears back. I turn to look beside me, the freshly peeled orange untouched on its plate. I pick the fruit up and split it into two. "Eat." I hold the tangerine out toward him. His expression turns into something tender and he takes the fruit, taking no time to consume the citrusy fruit, handing me the other half and beckoning me to eat too. I smile and peel one slice off and pop it into my mouth.

A sudden smell of arousal takes over the space and as soon as I swallow down the slice his lips are on mine, his hands pulling me closer, kissing me deeper, harder. He tasted of citrus and that fact fueled every nerve in my body. Mates, we're mated. His tongue enters my mouth again and the mating frenzy seems to take him full throttle. He winnows us into his quarters, carrying me towards his bed.

Something told me we wouldn't be leaving this bedroom for weeks.

General Taglist: @fxckmiup @olive-main @iluvyewman-blog @gaymistakeboi @glam-targaryen @going-through-shit @fauxdette @impossibelle @amara-moonlight @webecheesy-blog @sarawritestories @tele86 @rogersbarnesxx

[editoress]

Trust Issues amusement park | role reversal | “you got away with the crime while the knife’s in my back”

[throws all of Char's issues into a blender and emerges with something so convoluted and full of spoilers that I may be the only one to comprehend it]

*

When Char came to, head pounding and eyes blurry, she would have loved to be confused. She would have done anything to wonder how this had happened, or hope it was some misunderstanding. Instead, she thought: Fuck. Jules was really paying attention on those hikes.

Char was not especially enamored of poisons, but she necessarily knew what roots and herbs would do the job, if only to avoid them. She had passed that knowledge on as part of her larger, years-long lesson: how to survive, anywhere, no matter what you had to do.

Her vision was clearing, but her arms were tied behind her. She flexed her shoulders and pressed back to find the shape and feel of a wooden post. Made sense. There were three other thin columns around her, supporting a two-story-high ceiling. The ground floor was bare and empty. There was something of a second floor on the other side, like a broad mezzanine. This place might have been some kind of storage, once. Now it was only storing Char. She didn’t understand what all the space was for. Being drugged and captured in a fit of vengeance, she could buy. But what was with the damn secondary location?

She craned her neck to look around. Julian couldn’t be far; he would have planned out something dramatic, besides which he would never pass up a chance to rail at her. And in fact, movement caught her eye in the back corner. There was a figure moving with the soft step of someone accustomed to evading attention. If Char’s vision wasn’t so sharp, she would never have noticed him. She started to call out.

But something was wrong. The figure’s movements were too easy, almost jaunty, as if this was second nature. Char caught the shape of a knife but not the shine of it. The figure was too well built. And when he turned his face toward her—

It wasn’t Julian. It was a half elven man in his prime, golden brown hair pulled back and kohl around his widening eyes. “Alya?” he called, voice strained with disbelief.

This was what called up panic and confusion. Kelton Renard was not part of her present world. While Char’s mind raced, trying to figure out what he was doing here, Kelton touched his bracelet with a mutter. She remembered that—he always stocked up on jewelry that let him cast little spells, mostly to detect other people’s magic. He didn’t find any, because he lowered his knife and stepped forward, gaping. “Holy shit! You’re alive!”

It figured that the two possible assumptions had been dead or deserter, and he would come around to the other one soon enough. Still, she said, “Kelton, I… yeah, I’m alive,” because she had always expected that if they ever met again, he’d greet her blade-first.

Instead, he was leaning down to take in the sight of her. His hand landed on top of her head. “What are you doing here?” he asked wonderingly. He shook her head a little, which was awful on her headache. “What happened to your horns, little demon?”

Maybe she had needed that jostle, because Char finally recovered her wits. The reason Kelton shouldn’t—couldn’t—be here was because she still expected Julian to arrive at any moment. She took a deep breath and hardened her voice. “Get out. It’s a fucking trap.”

Kelton might have been a friend once, but he wasn’t a sap. He was a professional. As soon as he registered the words, he drew back, scanning the shadows of the building. Char heard the too-late snap of a crossbow. Kelton was well out of the way of the bolt by the time it hissed by.

“You said,” came a voice from the mezzanine, “that you didn’t know who the assassin was.” It was an arch voice, still carrying the accent of the Yoran upper class, but the years had deepened the timbre that echoed through the empty building. “But I found him.”

The first wave of anger was because Char must have told him a thousand times not to give away his location by talking. The second was worse—helpless. What more could she have done to keep these parts of her life separate? What more was she supposed to have given up to keep this from fucking happening? “Don’t,” she warned through gritted teeth.

Kelton sidestepped another bolt. The third made an eerie, high-pitched ringing noise against his knife as he deflected it. The half-elf slipped into the shadows behind her. Not even Char could hear him move. She turned her temper toward the mezzanine. She knew about where Julian had set up, though she couldn’t see him. “Stop it, now,” she bit out. “This isn’t a game. He’ll wipe the floor with you.”

And because Renard was a killer, because he’d been doing this for decades, a clash of metal on metal broke the silence first. Only after they’d traded blows did he add smugly, “Sure will. Hey, where are you going?”

Julian appeared at the edge of the mezzanine and all but slid down the ladder to the ground floor. Kelton did the same a moment later—faster, easier, more graceful—and chased him into the moonlight that fell in the center of the building. Julian turned to stand his ground; they locked eyes. For one frozen moment, it was as if Char didn’t even exist. Her heart sank. Julian was a young man now, still gangly from gaining all his height at once, but he had started to grow into his sharp, aristocratic features. Kelton might look at him and see the parents—

“Emeristov,” Kelton hissed. “You’re the Emeristov kid.” His guard didn’t waver, but his burning gaze turned on Char. “What the fuck is he doing alive, Alya?”

Funnily enough, what she hated most in that moment was how long it had taken him to figure it out. And then Julian gave a single mirthless laugh and said, “Oh, tell him, Mum,” and she had something to hate worse. Julian had never called her anything like that. She’d never asked him to, known he never would.

“What the fuck?” Kelton seethed. His voice cracked with rage. “Do you know what kind of shit we were in? Because of you. What the boss had to pay up, what we all had to go through?”

“I couldn’t do it,” Char said tightly. She’d never, ever considered having to explain herself from the other end. “I wanted out.”

“So you fucked us? After we took you in?” The angle of his stance was shifting to follow his fury. “Do you know who that fucking client was?”

The throwing knife came first, flashing through the air before burying itself in her shoulder. Kelton followed in a full-body lunge, teeth bared. Inexplicably, Char didn’t die; Julian tackled him aside. Char thought numbly, Well, at least he doesn’t want me dead. 

The grappling slowed. Julian was holding one of Kelton’s arms twisted behind his back with a grim death grip; he was using all his weight to keep the rest of him pinned to the ground. “You,” he panted, “killed my parents. So I’m going to kill you.” He glanced up at Char. “You killed the last person I cared about, while I couldn’t do a single thing about it.” He began to reach around carefully, trying to get his dagger into position. “So you’re going to watch.”

Julian’s weight had to shift to get an angle on the man beneath him, and Char knew what would happen an instant before Kelton flipped him over. He looked mad, with his hair half undone. “Wrong,” he hissed. “I’m gonna kill you both.”

“No,” Char blurted out. Renard turned a deadly indifferent look on her. She swallowed. “There’s no point. The job’s over. He’s just a dumb kid. Let him go.”

Julian was straining against Kelton’s weight, face contorted in anger. Kelton said, like it was a joke, “Great. You know I love easy work,” and brought the knife down.

“No!”

Julian caught his wrist, but Kelton was older, bigger, and stronger. He bore down, and Julian’s resistance slowly began to give way.

Char pulled at the ropes around her arms. She kicked, she screamed. She had gotten everything else wrong; the one right thing she’d managed was keeping Julian alive. That was all she had to do. But just like he’d wanted, all she could do was watch. “No! No, stop, fuck, please—Julian! Julian!”

[ouroboros-hideout]

Only one? :sad_vio:

Ok. I'll restrain myself.

6 for Aonushka.

46 for Vladdick.

Guess who came up with those names?

Sorry M'lady, you need to grand me some of your lighting-speed writing skills. Then I can provide some more words next time (maybe). My guess is Roy came up with the names? He will get a friendly kick in the ass in retrun. From both.

link to the questions

6. Illusion - For Aon

[...] 

The man was old, his face weather-beaten, his long, once dark hair almost completely gray and some strands matted. A scruffy beard covered his cheeks and chin, white as the snowflakes caught in it. His blue eyes were pale and dull, but you could see the experience, something wise, in them, he had undoubtedly gained over a long life. His clothes, too, were nothing Aon had ever seen with her own eyes. Faded fabrics with old patterns still visible, animal skins, old, scratched leather and a few small pieces of blue stone jewelry. A strange aura surrounded him, as if he wasn't really here with her, in the middle of the night in a remote forest where no one had lived for decades. As if he were an apparition, an illusion. 

“A clever little bird,” he began in a low, humming voice as he gently stroked the raven's black feathers with his finger and it gurgled contentedly. 

Aon did not answer. She stood rooted to the snow, eyes fixed on him, the fingers of her right hand hovering over the handle of the broken knife she still carried on her thigh. Still good enough to defend herself with it. 

“You seem lost, child.” The man's gaze wandered from the small animal to her, though it was hard to tell where his glance was really going in the darkness. 

“Who are you?” Aon replied demandingly, no softness in her voice, but plenty of suspicion. 

The man let go of the raven and started to move around the fallen tree stump.

“Cold hands, a cold heart. But your mind is still sharp. The path still lies ahead of you, even if you can't see it at the moment.”

Her fingers closed around the handle. “Who are you? I won't ask again.” She could hardly imagine that the man was a threat, as he seemed rather confused and radiated a certain calmness. But the events of the past few weeks still weighed heavily on her. Better safe than sorry. 

“I am what surrounds me. Trees. Wind. Snow.” He raised his head to the sky. “The stars. The moon. I had a name, but no one remained to remember it.” 

A deep crease formed between Aon's brows and she felt her pulse rise in the veins on her throat. 

“But your name will be remembered. Even by those not close to you.” 

The unease that was boiling up in her chest was slowly becoming unbearable, but something else sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't the cold wind, but the old man's enigmatic words that touched her in a way she couldn't understand. Curiosity that fights against all the defenses she tried to keep up.

[...] 

sorry that meeting is super wild out of context somehow but I wanted to try ahfkahböh

46. Shimmer - For Vlad

The setting sun let its last rays fall on the water, creating a golden, mesmerizing shimmer. His head rested on the warm stone of the cliff just behind them, under which they had set up their little spot for the evening and the end of a day of togetherness. His fingers caressed the soft skin of the woman's shoulder as she rested in his lap, always in rhythm with the waves that slowly reached and left the shore.

Just as she rose from her position and turned to him with a cheeky smile, obviously repeating his name for a multitude, he was released from the spell that nature had cast on him. 

“Vlad? Do you want to go back to the city” she asked, reaching for his hand, which was still on her arm, to take it between her delicate fingers. When she saw his face, she knew the answer and added:

“Don't get melancholic because you have to leave tomorrow. ”

His greenish eyes switched back to the glistening water for a second. 

“I am not… “, probably the worst lie he ever committed.

A lighthearted chuckle came across her lips and she let go of his hand to reach for his jaw to turn his head to face her. 

“You stare at the ocean like an old sailor who admires his one true love that he will never see again,” she mocked.

“You know it's not the sea I'll miss. How could I not get sad every time we have to part?” he replied, the audible weight of a heavy heart in his voice as he mimicked her gesture, taking her fingers between his own, pressing a gentle kiss to them and bringing her hand to his chest where it rested over his heart. 

“I've known you long enough,” Ghislaine continued. “You'll be back as soon as possible,” she said, moving closer to him and leaning against his side. “With your big promotion. Your big new office all to yourself,” moving closer to his lips with each word. “And getting paid even more for doing absolutely nothing,” pulling back again as he tried to steal a kiss from her. “The Corporate life.”

He turned away, the grip on her wrist loosened, a wry smile on his face as her words had offended him, but he tried to play it off. 

“It was and still is a lot of hard work, actually.“

No matter how often she mocked him or spoke ill of his status in society, the spell she cast on him always drew him back to her.

“I'm only joking, you deserve it, mon cher” at the last part his gentle gaze went back to her, but he didn't respond to her teasing. He studied the beautiful young woman next to him until she became a little uneasy and a thin wrinkle formed between her dark brows. 

"I am sorry, I did not want to ruin -“

Vlad shook his head, hardly visible and interrupted her apology. 

“I am just an old sailor admiring his one true love. “

She chuckled, until it turned into a melodic laugh so he too could no longer keep his straight face, pulling her close on the waist and finally go for the desired kiss.

[tvrningout-a]

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CHIYO!" the divinity would shout out in excitement as the other entered her hut, revealing how her living room had been clad in various colors & some of the most cheesy decorations one could buy for a birthday celebration. "surprise, surprise!" she said with a grin whilst passing by, pointing at the kitchen island crossing near her living room. "i baked you a cake! well, i baked you . . . cakes! i wanted you to have variation. the boys should also be here soon to show you your birthday present but i wanted to give you mine first." a mischievous glint lingered within her eyes whilst she pulled out a small crimson box, covered in velvet fabric. "there you go!" once the other opened the small package, a glint of gold would be seen first: dainty thread of gold was woven into perfectly constructed jewelry. two main pieces, a golden ring & golden bracelet, were connected by equally gilded, elegant chains. along the chains & bracelet multiple crystals of lilac & blue could be seen, the gold metal constructed into shapes of various flowers. "ah, i hope it's not too much! i could not decide if i wanted to make a bracelet or ring, so i connected the two!" a pause, sheepish grin lingering. "the crystals & stones are tourmaline & opal — your birthstones. i've also inlaid them with runes . . . it's a small protection spell." alas, before the other could explain further — a knock at the door was heard. "oh! that must be niko & rayo, don't let me stop you! i'll get ready for the small celebration later . . . now, go! have fun, darling!" — ( part 1 / 2 )

it's chiyo's birthday! | @vonerde made her a gift!

gratitude and something much warmer blossoms in chiyo's chest the minute she walks through gaia's door and catches sight of all the decorations ( they might be cheesy, but cheesy is exactly her style ). though she knew to expect something like this from gaia, she couldn't have anticipated so much effort; the cakes just begging for her to dip a finger into their frosting inspire something akin to guilt, but it's... happy. a happy guilt. the happiest guilt chiyo thinks she's ever felt.

this is plenty already, " thank you, " and, " you didn't have to go through so much trouble! " on the tip of chiyo's tongue when gaia passes her a little box. the velvet feels nice between her fingers. her heart feels so full, and she glances at the goddess with soft, flustered smile.

" you're spoiling me, y'know. "

the contents leave her stunned, eyes roaming every delicately crafted detail of the jewelry. it's beautiful, nicer than anything she's ever owned, but more importantly than that, gaia made it for her. she took care to find her birthstones, to make something not only gorgeous but useful as well. she did much more than she needed to, much more than chiyo would have wanted her to because... well, because gaia cares that much.

the warmth grows within chiyo's chest until it's nearly unbearable, nearly choking her with its intensity. chiyo raises her gaze to meet gaia's, lips parting---

there's a knock upon the door. niko and rayo are here.

gaia doesn't want to keep her -- after all, they'll all be together in a little while -- but chiyo doesn't let the deity go without first crushing her in a hug. she wonders if gaia can feel the warmth that's consuming her. " thank you, " chiyo says, resting her chin upon gaia's shoulder ( soft yet heavy, the artist isn't referring to only her gift ). the brunette hesitates only for a moment before she's pressing a kiss to gaia's cheek, pulling away with a grin that could rival any sunrise.

" i can't begin to tell you how perfect it--- all of this is. it's way more than i'd ever ask for, and just... thank you, gaia. i love your gift, and--- " chiyo nearly says something she shouldn't; she covers it up with a laugh as she nods towards the kitchen island. " i-i'm gonna eat so much cake. "

the boys' voices can be heard behind the door, prompting chiyo to hurry on. she gives gaia a little wave as excitement joins the party of feelings dancing within her chest. " i promise we'll make it back soon! "

[starlightswitch]

The Story Behind the Promise

(for Writer's Month day 3 prompts seashell and festival setting. I was out of town last weekend and will be again this weekend, so I need to catch up! This was written from August 3-5, a bit on my phone in the car, most of it in a notebook while in New Jersey.)

Their last full day of vacation turned out to be the first day of some sort of beach summer festival. There were food trucks and a sandcastle contest and a boogie boarding contest, and the the streets near the beach were lined with tents of people selling everything from spice mixes to wooden signs. Vivian and Hunter tried to see everything, cheering for the boogie boarders, making custom shave ices, lingering a long time at a jewelry booth with seashells edged in gold until Vivian decided she wanted to save her money until she left for college.

Things were dying down at the end of the night, but they could still hear music from somewhere when they finished dinner outside and Hunter asked if Vivian wanted to take a walk down the beach.

Vivian’s stomach fluttered. This seemed like it would be it.

She’d kept talking about how she wanted a promise ring. Ashton had one, which her boyfriend had given to her before they went to different colleges. She’d been so excited to show it off to Vivian, and Vivian had thought it made the relationship seem so serious, so meant-to-last. And it had lasted, because here they were three summers later, people casually asking if they were going to get engaged soon, the ring with its wavy pattern of tiny stones still glinting on Ashton’s finger.

She didn’t actually know how Mark had given Ashton her promise ring– he hadn’t started coming with them to the beach until last year, luckily Vivian’s parents weren’t as picky about how long you had to be in a relationship before you could bring the guy to the beach– but a walk when it was close to sunset and the light was all golden seemed like a perfect way.

She let Hunter take the lead, and after walking a ways down the beach he turned toward the water. She stopped to pull off her sandals, and they walked just to where the longest reach of the waves were hitting the sand. The breeze caught her hair, and the sunlight outlined his, and someone at the festival was playing a guitar and singing.

“So,” said Hunter. “You’ve been saying you really want something to take with you to college to remind you of me, and that I promise to stay with you even though… we’re apart.”

Vivian was going to answer, “A promise ring,” naming it, but that sounded a little silly in her head. She nodded seriously.

“So…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out something wrapped in tissue paper.

Vivian looked at it for a minute before she realized he meant for her to take it. She had sort of thought he was going to put it on her hand, but maybe it was like getting engaged and he wasn’t going to do that until she’d accepted? Made him a promise too? She really wished Ashton had told her how Mark had done it. She took the little package and unwrapped it, careful not to drop the ring.

It wasn’t a ring. It was a seashell necklace.

“I saw how much you liked them. And when you wear it, you can remember this week, and this moment, and know that I love you just as much when we’re apart as I did standing on this beach in the sun together.”

A necklace.

Not a ring.

Not something he could put on her finger. Not something someone would see on the third finger of her hand and ask if it was from someone special. Not something she could just wear, all the time, like Ashton did.

She really didn’t want to make him sad, and she really didn’t want to ruin the moment, but she was also really disappointed that it wasn’t a promise ring, and it felt a little bit unfair not to get one after she’d made sure to tell him how much she wanted one. She tried to think of the nicest, most gentle way to say it. “So… you’re not getting me a promise ring?”

She was sure what flickered in his eyes was sadness, but it was gone as soon as she saw it. “If you still want a promise ring, I’ll get you a promise ring. I just thought you would like this, since you seemed to like them.”

That was nice. It was still a little bit annoying that he’d thought getting her a necklace meant he didn’t have to get her a promise ring, and that he’d done a special moment like this to give her the necklace so she was pretty sure he wouldn’t do another one for the promise ring. But it would be cute to have a necklace.

“Are you going to put it on me?” she said, still holding it.

“Sure, if you want me to.”

“Sure,” she said, and when he put it on her it settled right where she liked a necklace to sit.

They walked back, and she tried not to think about what could have been.

Ashton was in the kitchen scooping ice cream out of the carton. “Want some?” she said when she looked up. “This is the last of it–” she tilted the scoop toward Vivian– “but we can split it.”

“Um, sure? If you don’t mind sharing.”

“Of course,” said Ashton, and got out another bowl.

When the bowls were ready Ashton handed Vivian hers and glanced at the back door but then started eating her ice cream where she was at the counter. “I almost thought he was going to propose,” she said in a tone that was probably joking.

Vivian tried to smile.

Ashton stopped smiling. “Did you get engaged?” she said, looking down and trying to see Vivian’s hand.

“No,” said Vivian, like that was crazy, because it was. “Why would we get engaged before you?”

Ashton shrugged.

“I thought he might give me a promise ring.”

“Oh. He didn’t?”

Vivian shook her head.

Ashton fiddled with hers, spinning it with her thumb, then ate another bite of ice cream. “Does he know you want one?”

Vivian nodded. “And I reminded him.”

Ashton laughed. It was an appreciative laugh.

“How did Mark give you yours?”

“What do you mean, how did he give it to me? He said ‘Would you like a promise ring?’ and I said yeah and then a week or something later I saw this one and said ‘If you didn’t pick a promise ring yet can I have this one?’ and he said ‘You bet’ and he bought it and had it shipped to me.”

Vivian stopped with her spoon in the air. “He didn’t give it to you?”

“I said he bought it,” Ashton repeated, like that was the question.

“But he didn’t give it to you?”

“Like…?”

“Like make a speech and put it on your finger.”

“Oh. No.”

“Then how’s it a promise ring?”

Somehow Ashton was seeming more confused the more Vivian tried to explain. “Because that’s wh…at he gave it to me as?”

“But he didn’t promise you anything.”

“The ring… is the promise?” Ashton kind of smiled at her. “Are you telling me we’re doing promise rings wrong?”

“No,” said Vivian, because how could anything about Ashton and Mark’s relationship be wrong? “I just… think I’d want a speech. About what he promised me.”

“Oh. Yeah, a speech could be cool,” said Ashton, but she said it like there was an ‘if that’s what you want’ attached, not like she cared she hadn’t gotten one herself.

Ashton hadn’t gotten a speech. She hadn’t gotten a promise. She had a ring, but she didn’t have the story to go with it– at least not the kind of story Vivian wanted for herself.

Vivian had the story. She didn’t have the ring, but she had the story.

A whole lot of things had turned inside out in the last couple hours. She was going to have to sleep on this.

-

2020 Day 3: What She Wanted (magic)

2021 Day 3: Outside Perspective (outside + wedding setting)

2022 Day 3: A Little Too Real (actors AU)

[dear-mrs-otome]

Silvio Ricci - Main Story - Chp 01

Standard Disclaimer: I do this for fun. I don’t, and never would, claim to be proficient at JP. There will be mistakes herein. There will be dialogue I choose to smooth out or change, because it feels choppy just straight translating. There will be the occasional snarky aside and irreverence and just plain summarizing. If you’re looking for 100% pure accuracy, without commentary or localizing, this is not for you. If you don’t mind that…then proceed, and I hope you enjoy! And please, support your local localizer (they make this stuff look easy) and Cybird by playing the games and routes when they come to English.

~~~~~~~~

In his room in Benitoite, Silvio wakes up one morning to the sound of waves as usual. It’s clear there’s been some fuccin going on in this bed, but he’s alone now - he always kicks his partners out the moment they’re finished, so as to never have to wake up next to anyone.

He pours a drink of water from the (golden, of course) jug beside his bed, and is chugging it, thirsty af. But he catches a glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror and curses at the sight of lipstick marks on his body - marks that only smear when he tries to rub them off with his hand.

“Disgusting…” He scowls, but gives up on the attempt, and goes back to drinking his water to quench his dry throat. 

The first prince of Benitoite’s mornings always begin like this. Parched.

~~~~~~~~

It’s a few days after the 4-country summit in Rhodolite took place, and Sariel and Rio are both oddly busy with duties. Emma is left strangely to her own devices, when…

“Yo, woman, let’s go.”

Her door is kicked in, peaceful morning ruined by Silvio strolling in her bedroom. Silvio, AKA can’t use his hands to open a door like a normal person, has to wear all that expensive gaudy clothes and jewelry, and is currently giving her his best haughty rich asshole look. 

She asks where the heck they’re going, it’s the first she’s heard of this, and he replies that he only needs her to agree to someone like him - he’s in need of entertaining, and she’s the one to do it.

She’s wtf-ing over this ridiculous demand, still not totally with it even, and he grabs her hand and starts hauling her off. She demands he explain, at LEAST, and he says he figured he’d have her serve him breakfast. As she’s still boggling over this, he reminds her how he’d told her the other day she’d have the opportunity to make things up to him until he’s satisfied (for the champagne that Rio ‘accidentally’ spilled on him at the summit gala to save her in the Act 2 prologue).

She hadn’t thought he was actually serious then, but it seems he was - and she’s freaking out because she’s totally alone now too. Nobody to go to bat for her here...and she’s wondering if he suspected as much when he came to make this demand. He reminds her she can’t really say no, and silently she has to agree that she can’t refuse him.

There’s already breakfast laid out in the parlor when they arrive, a spread fit for a king that’s far more luxurious than even the Rhodolite princes usually eat, she notices. He’s eating and she ends up almost mesmerized by how impeccable and elegant his manners are, despite his arrogant ass exterior. At least, she is until he starts demanding something to drink. 

She points out the rose tea that’s right there, but he wants something COLD he insists. She’s grumbling inside that this is the sort of thing a maid would usually take care of, but strangely there doesn’t seem to be one at his meal. She’s eaten with the other princes often enough by now to know that’s the usual case.

It seems obvious he’s paid off people left and right to get her maneuvered into serving him breakfast.

She comes back shortly with cold tea prepared, and presents it to him…but he only returns a grin that makes her nervous. “For a noblewoman, you can't seem to offer someone a cup the right way, can you?”

She manages to reply that it’s because she’s never played waiter before, but inside she’s dismayed to realize there’s some kind of ‘right’ or ‘wrong’ way to hand someone a cup?!? Silvio’s clearly watching with a keen eye, missing nothing, and she KNOWS he’s gotta be staying in Rhodolite for more than just to have her and Rio make things up to him. It’s obvious he’s trying to figure out who she is - so she reminds herself she has to be careful.

“I’m certain I won’t be able to serve you to your satisfaction.” She tries to make her excuses politely. “Shall I call for the maid?”

He points out that that wouldn’t be her making up for her transgression if someone else serves him. “Besides….from now on, you’ll be my hostess.”

“Oh, okay…” She answers on reflex, and then stops. “No, wait - what was that?”

She’s thinking frantically - she hadn’t heard anything about serving as hostess to Silvio, not from Sariel or such. He goes on to say how he'd gotten the okay to stay in Rhodolite for an extended period of time, and if he's gonna be here awhile he's gonna need someone to entertain him.

She tries to say that he should have someone better suited to diplomacy doing that, not her, but he's not taking no for an answer. Even if she protests that she has other duties to attend to, he scowls that she should get permission to attend him - and remember that this alliance hinges on her.

This is getting way outta control but she can feel her hands are being tied. If Silvio suspects something about her real identity, she can't risk him discovering it or turning this into something that breaks their countries' alliance.

He says don't worry he'll only take up her mornings and evenings, and she's dismayed to hear he's going to want her evenings too, prompting him to scowl at the sour look on her face when she questions that. 

He pinches her nose and she's telling herself…put up with it, put up with it, he's royalty and all that jazz…

Imperiously, he says he's having a party tonight for some Rhodolite merchants, and she's going to be there to serve. She’s not seeing a good way out of this, even if she talks to Sariel…but she gives it one last shot by trying to brush it off as a good joke, which only earns her a smirk and an ominous promise to work her twice as hard for her impertinence.

~~~~~~

Later…

A smiling Rio is asking Emma to condone murdering the gaudy bastard in Sariel’s office, as she tries to calm him down. She’d made a beeline here the moment she’d escaped Silvio that morning and told them both what had happened.

A dismayed Sariel admits they were well-played, but he’d suspected something had been up since the sudden incidents that came up and required his and Rio’s attention that morning had to do with merchants. Silvio clearly plotted this all out, Sariel confirms to her. 

Rio’s protesting that he can’t let Emma be Silvio’s hostess, least of all when he’s the one who dumped the champagne on him. He’s determined to go have a ‘chat’ with Silvio about being the sole person to make amends for that, but Sariel yanks him back by the collar and scolds him for being a bad dog before he can get more than a step towards the door.

He’s reiterating how much trouble Silvio went through just to get to Emma, it’s clear he’s focused on her, and she says aloud that this is really about him trying to find out who she is, isn’t it?

They discuss how Silvio’s clever and realized something about her has to do with the state of their country - if he finds out she’s Belle, that’ll expose the fact that they’ve been hiding the truth about the king’s death from their ally. Which needless to say, would be Very Bad if they ended up left high and dry.

Damned if they do and damned if they don’t though…even if they told the truth about the king, there’s the chance that Benitoite would try to take advantage of the chaos and try to benefit from it themselves. It’s a heavy burden she’s carrying right now, one that could crush her with one wrong move.

Sariel assures her he’ll think of SOMETHING to try and do about this, but for the moment she’s got no choice but to go along with this party tonight and try to make it through as best she can. She’s nervous, but she feels confident in Sariel’s training to help her be a noblewoman, and she didn’t take the job of Belle to half-ass anything. 

She also kinds wants to stick it to that tyrant, she admits to herself.

Pleased, Sariel bids Rio to accompany her, saying he’ll make sure he’s not waylaid tonight, and a grateful Rio vows to protect her from Silvio that evening no matter what.

“His aim probably isn’t just to discover Emma’s true identity…” Rio muses, and Emma presses him - Silvio has some other purpose?

“Maybe...I’ll tell you about it someday,” Rio says to her, and she sees sadness flash across his expression. 

Realizing it might not be something he wants to tell her she assures him she’ll wait until whenever he’s ready to talk, and a blushing Rio gushes about how much he loves her kind self which she waves off with her usual grace.

Sariel reminds them to let him know if things get too hairy, he’s got a duty to keep not just Emma but Rio safe as well, which Rio is grateful for. Regretting his show of gratitude when a moment later, Sariel hands him a veritable stack of work to accomplish in return.

She feels as if they can handle any situation when she’s with the both of them, and the anxieties Silvio had raised all fade away…at least, until that night comes.

~~~~~~

The party is out in the garden, where Silvio is so blinged out he practically hurts her eyes. The people in attendance are pretty glitzy as well, as if also wealthy merchants - a glimpse into a world that’s utterly foreign to her. But more than all the finery and glamor what stands out to her is the rose petals scattered everywhere, trod carelessly under the partygoers’ feet. 

It might be a scene of beauty to some, but it makes her uncomfortable for some reason. It feels tacky and wrong.

Rio notes her discomfort as she’s staring mutely at the tableau, but she waves it off as nothing and shoves back the feelings she can’t place. Making her way over to Silvio where he’s lounging on the sofa, forced to step on rose petals herself as she approaches…and every step she finds it harder and harder to breathe.

Silvio gives her props for showing up, but he’s displeased she brought the shitty dog with her. Rio reminds him that he’s her butler, and where Emma goes he goes. Claiming to be shorthanded with staff, Silvio orders Rio to help the servers out - clearly trying to keep him away from Emma, she realizes, which doesn’t help her misgivings either.

Rio refuses to leave Emma, and Silvio makes a thinly veiled threat to escalate this to diplomatic issue if he doesn’t get his way of having Emma entertain him. She tries offering to go help the staff herself, but he reminds her of what he’d said that morning, that her job was to serve him and entertain him. 

“Or is there some reason why you absolutely need your butler glued to your side?” Silvio challenges. "If so, tell me. If it’s a good reason, I’ll consider it. And you, damn dog, keep your mouth shut. I’m asking her.”

Rio just glares in angry silence, and she’s stewing over how Silvio’s done nothing but make her look stupid so far - implying that she’s an easy mark without Sariel or Rio around to run interference for her. Needled by this, she asks Rio if he can go ahead and help the staff out.

He finally agrees, but warns Silvio that he won’t stand for anyone disrespecting his mistress, foreign bigshot or not. Silvio dismisses him as a rabid dog, and Emma has to assure her on-the-verge-of-murder butler that she’ll be fine before he’ll finally leave.

No choice now but to grit her teeth and make it through this, really. 

“Woman, your place is here.” Silvio pats at the seat next to himself, closer than she’d like to be. Realizing that being a hostess to him is different from maid duty. 

She sits down as far away from him as she can, indulging in her tiny defiances, but Silvio just hooks an arm around her waist and the exotic scent of his cologne surrounds her. She protests his idea of ‘entertaining’ but he reminds her no talking back as he orders her to pour a drink.

Patience, patience we will not rip this asshole a new one, she reminds herself as she complies, though she half shoves the glass of rose wine at him. 

One of the blinged-out party guests comments on how they didn’t know Silvio had a ‘cherished flower’ in Rhodolite, but Silvio dismisses the idea. She’s not pretty enough for that sort of thing, though a sassy woman every once in awhile isn’t so bad, he muses. The merchant says he’ll make note of the fact that Silvio would get tired of beautiful flowers if constantly surrounded by them…and Emma’s unable to even muster a smile in return as the man gives her a once-over, as if appraising her value.

She gets the impression that by ‘cherished flower’ they mean something like a mistress…and the thought that anyone would mistake her for Silvio's lover is all kinds of nope.

“Don’t just sit there with your head down and a pout on your face,” Silvio tells her. “I told you to entertain me.”

She makes her excuses, trying to coach herself to smile. Reminding herself the future of her country is at stake here, so she’s gotta squash her bad feels and put up with it…but somehow Silvio doesn’t seem satisfied. 

“She’s a rare flower indeed,” the merchant agrees. “For in your presence, Prince Silvio, every flower would blossom beautifully.”

Silvio poses the idea that a flower like this might be worth the effort, grinning as he reaches out and breaks off a nearby rose beautifully in bloom. Playing with it in his hand for a moment before he crushes it, the sight of petals spilling out between his fingers burning itself into her eyes.

“Stop…please,” she begs, and goes on when he looks her way, unable to stay silent. “Don’t trample on any more of our roses.”

“I thought you were in a strangely bad mood, maybe that’s why,” Silvio observes.

She’s livid and finally realizes the why - it’s because he’s been disrespecting these roses, the symbol of her country. It makes her feel as if something precious to her is being trashed, and it sickens her so much she can’t even put it into words.

Silvio reminds her that he bought everything here, he has a right to do what he chooses with his possessions, and she has to admit to herself that he’s right. She doesn’t have grounds to speak up when his money’s made this all his. 

His smirk flattens. “You’ve got a sassy look in your eyes,” he states, but she only holds her peace. “If you want to get your way so badly, why not just kill me?”

She’s taken aback by that random suggestion, still trying to process it when he says he’ll even offer her the chance. With a haughty smirk tilting the corner of his mouth he lifts her up to kneel on his lap, and tells her how if she’s got an opinion she wants to get across, she’d best show him the guts to do so even if it means killing him. But if she can’t follow through, she’d best not talk back.

She’s only silent, still reeling, as he taunts her to try wringing his neck because you can’t win a fight with words alone right?

It’s so far beyond the pale…she tries to get up, but he grabs her hand and forces it to his throat. All the guests surrounding them are looking on, drinks in hand and laughing, as if taking in a sideshow at the circus or something. She’s wondering to herself if she’s some sort of comic relief to them, if it’s really so laughable of her to be so angry over someone trampling and trashing the roses.

“They’re all on my side, not yours. Do you know why?” Silvio presses her. “Because I bring them benefits. But you, you bring them nothing. What you say is worthless. All you’re doing is embarrassing yourself in front of everyone. Powerless and wretched…you’ll never be my equal. So you’d better think for a second about what it means to stand up to me.”

She may never have been so miserable in her entire life. She can sense Rio’s murder-rage even from here, and somehow Silvio seems to be enjoying himself. She knows that a hostess’ role is to please guests, but she loathes this sort of ‘entertainment’.

Still though, she has to just endure it for now. Confronted by the overwhelming power that money bestows, she can do nothing but tremble with these feelings that have no other outlet. 

~~~~~~~~

Chapter 02 >>

[nyxicnymph]

Meteor Showers

A Ganyu x Yanfei fanfic for Ganyu's birthday, based off of the song Meteor Showers by Cavetown.

Ganyu looked up from her desk at a gentle, yet insistent tapping. Her eyes met the deep teal of her partner's. Yanfei smiled at her.

"Ready to wrap it up?"

Ganyu blinked, then nodded as she stood up and began to pack up. Once she was done, Yanfei extended her hand, and Ganyu took it. The two girls left the Qixing building hand-in-hand, the sunset casting a golden glow over the harbor.

Ganyu had many regrets in her long long life, but Yanfei, and their relationship, did not fall into those regrets. Yanfei was clear cut and easy to understand, not confusing like some of Ganyu's other friends. Maybe it was just Ganyu, but either way, she was glad she had Yanfei.

The sun slowly crept beneath the horizon as they strolled down to the lower side of the city, slowly making their way to the southern wharf. Yanfei stopped to the side, and for a moment, Ganyu panicked, worrying that she'd upset Yanfei with her silence.

But Yanfei had just stopped at the jewelry shop to look at something. She brushed off the lady's attempts to persuade her into buying something, and rejoined Ganyu.

"Sorry, I thought something looked familiar. Unfortunately, I was wrong."

Ganyu nodded as Yanfei took her hand again. "So, what's the plan for tonight? You don't ask me out unless you have a plan, usually."

Yanfei giggled. "well, there's a meteor shower predicted for tonight. I wanted to show you. Even if you've seen a million of them, I wanted to see one with you."

Ganyu's heart warmed. "I would watch a billion meteor showers with you."

Yanfei grinned. "You're so sweet, Ganyu. Come on, I need to pick something up from Third Round."

Ganyu happily followed her beloved up to the restaurant, and while Yanfei was inside, gave a small wave to Zhongli. He smiled and nodded back at her, before turning his attention back to Tiang. As Ganyu waited, she saw the Tianqiang coming up as well, and she quickly looked away. She didn't need to know.

Thankfully, Yanfei returned then, and handed a covered a basket to Ganyu. "Quickly now, I don't want to miss it."

"Me neither," Ganyu agreed, excitement starting to pulse through her body.

They laft the city, and started heading towards the Golden House. Yanfei found a small clearing, and seemingly out of nowhere, she laid a blanket on the ground, and set her basket on top of it. Ganyu followed her lead, and then sat on the blanket. Yanfei sat next to her, and began to pull food out of the baskets.

"I actually didn't order much, but in the event of us not finishing any of it, we can always take it home."

Home. A word that Ganyu used frequently, but never used to associate it with any one person or place. Home used to be wherever she needed to be. Not a place to rest, relax, to hide from the world and recover.

But now her home was Yanfei, was wherever Yanfei wanted to be. And Ganyu felt she finally understood what "home" meant.

"You're drifting, love," Yanfei said, bringing Ganyu back to earth. "We still have some time before the meteor shower. Here, have my plate. You don't have to eat everything, but eat something, okay?"

Ganyu nodded as she accepted the plate from Yanfei. "I love you, you don't have to do all this."

Yanfei pressed a kiss to Ganyu's cheek. "I love you too, that's why I do it."

A half hour passed before the sky began to start changing. Unfortunately, it wasn't filling with illusions of falling stars, but instead with clouds. Yanfei quickly stood up.

"No! Go away, clouds!"

Ganyu's eyes widened as she realized what was about to happen. "Yanfei, we need to get to cover! It's about to rain!"

Yanfei cursed, and quickly packed up the remains of their evening picnic. Ganyu formed an umbrella with her cryo vision and held it over both of their heads. This time, Yanfei took both baskets in one hand, and used her free hand to hold Ganyu's empty one.

"I could carry one," Ganyu insisted.

Yanfei shook her head. "I want to hold your hand. Don't worry, love, they weren't heavy to begin with, and since we both ate, they're less so now."

Yanfei was always phrasing things like that, making sure Ganyu knew she wasn't at fault for eating, whether a little or a lot. She wondered if Yanfei knew how much it meant to her.

Just as they began walking back to the harbor, Ganyu felt the shift in the clouds, and channeling more cryo energy into her umbrella, started sprinting, pulling Yanfei along. The heavens opened up, and a cold ran came pouring down.

It wasn't cold enough, though, because each drop that hit the icy umbrella over their heads melted it just a little bit more. Ganyu kept repairing it as best as she could, but it wasn't holding out. So, just before she let the umbrella go, she pulled Yanfei off the road, and dashed for the nearest ramshackle building. She vaguely recognized it as one of the impromtu inns from when Ningguang was rebuilding her Jade Chamber, but that didn't stay long. It was just shelter.

Yanfei giggled breathlessly. "Wow. So I guess we did get a shower. Even if it wasn't the shower we wanted."

She inhaled after her giggling, and just took in the moment. In the stormy darkness, her hair mingling with Ganyu's in the tiny space, the pink and the blue swirling together like sugar candy. She turned her head just enough to reach Ganyu's ear.

"How did you know that they were rain clouds?"

Ganyu flushed. "I could feel them. Half Qilin."

"Oh, right! Archons, you're so cool." Then Yanfei winked. "And not just because of your vision."

Ganyu buried her face in Yanfei's shoulder. "You continue to fluster me."

"Might as well make the most of this moment!" Yanfei said happily. "Still. I'm sorry your birthday surprise got rained on."

"My birthday?"

"Mhm. I figured you wouldn't remember, so I wanted to surprise you. Instead, it seems I've gotten you rained on."

"Yanfei."

She looked into Ganyu's eyes, which were suddenly serious. "Yes, Ganyu?"

"Can I kiss you?"

"Always."

And so fire met ice under an abandoned porch roof on the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, in a simple declaration of affection.

[startanewdream]

For @sweeethinny, inspired by her drawing of Lily's dress for the celebration of her 25th wedding anniversary, because I couldn't think of anything else since I saw her beautiful drawing:

~*~*~*~*~*~

“This one looks nice.”

“Nah, it’s too thick. You have tiny fingers.”

“What about that pair then?”

“Too thin. It looks like a keychain.”

“And I’m guessing that one is too fancy?”

“You know me all too well, Lils.”

She shakes her head, more amused than anything after three days into their shopping spree. For a pair of wedding rings.

Everything else went smoothly on their wedding plans. They agreed on the venue upon first visit and the date they wanted was available. They decided on the wedding cake and the decoration and even the template for the invitations—the designer didn’t understand the stag and doe, but didn’t ask many questions either—, including the type of paper. Lily picked her wedding dress on the first store she visited, to her friends’ dismay. James got his suit approved by Sirius on the second try, which was considered a success.

Until they went shopping for their wedding rings and then they realized that there were multiple options of wedding rings and surprisingly none of them seemed to fit.

“We can just craft one,” she mumbles to him while the kind sellswoman runs to present them another set of wedding rings.

“It could be…” James mumbles, unsure, and Lily can’t blame him. She is also starting to think they won’t ever find the perfect ring. Until— “Hey! Those are cool!”

Lily follows the direction of his gaze. James is looking at another shelf, one that wasn’t presented for them and Lily knows exactly why as soon as she notices the rings there.

“We can’t have those, James,” she tells him patiently. “See the silver band around them?”

“Yeah, that’s what I liked! It reminds me of the rings my parents had.”

“They would have. The silver is to represent their 25th wedding anniversary.”

“How come?”

“Oh, you don’t know? Each anniversary of a wedding is associated with some type of gift. The first year is cotton, I think. The most known are 25th and 50th anniversaries. Silver is for 25th, golden is for 50th.”

“But wedding rings are already made of gold.”

Lily shrugs. “I don’t know, it’s just the way it is. It’s cute to think your parents had a wedding ring with a silver band, some couples add the silver to their wedding ring for celebration.”

“Why can’t we have one of those now anyway? I’m planning to stay married with you all my life, and that includes all wedding anniversaries.”

Warmth spreads through her body. Lily blames the easiness in James’ voice; he is not trying to declare his love for her in his sentence, he is speaking as it is obvious they will be together, as if he can’t fathom his life otherwise.

It’s nice to imagine them 10, 25, 50 years in the future, growing old together.

“Let’s save those rings for our 25th wedding anniversary,” she tells him, placing a soft kiss on his lips. “And hopefully find our perfect wedding rings so we can get married in the first place.”

________

The bells ring at the small church at Godric’s Hollow and Lily feels back to 25 years ago, standing nervously at the doors of the church, holding her father’s arm. It had been silly to feel any fear then, because she had been sure about her decision to marry James, young as they were, and it’s even sillier now, but she can’t help the quick beating of her heart.

“You know, you can still give up,” Sirius tells her, smirking, as he offers her arm to her. “I can lend you my motorbike, it’s parked outside.”

“You are 25 years late in your proposition, Padfoot,” she replies, grinning as well, and he winks at her as the doors of the church open.

It’s a Wednesday night and the church is almost empty save for Lily and James’ closest friends and family. She gets a quick glimpse of Harry waving at her from the first row of seats, but then, just like it happened all those years ago, once Lily meets James’ eyes, she can’t see anyone else.

Twenty-five years ago she didn’t doubt she still wanted to be with him and she still doesn’t.

“You look beautiful,” he tells her, his whisper carrying through the church and making their guests chuckle with the obvious adoration in his voice.

James is oblivious to anything else but her; he raises his hand, running it from her cheeks to her shoulder and down to her bare arms before he intertwines their fingers, and when his gaze falls to the slit that shows her leg, he winks at Lily with an expression that seems better fitted to their upcoming second honeymoon.

And then, just like in the first time, she can’t really focus on the ceremony.

“Your wedding rings?” the priest asks, and James glances at their son. Harry rushes to give him a velvet box that seems strangely worn out and dusty.

When James opens the box, Lily sees a pair of shiny new wedding rings, the gold and the silver intertwined in a delicate pattern. There is something strangely familiar about those rings, but not what she expected.

“Those aren’t our original wedding rings,” she notes, surprised. James grins.

“No, these are the ones we first saw in that jewelry store the day we bought our first wedding rings.”

“You went back there to buy them? I thought that store had closed years ago.”

“Oh, it did. I went back to buy them the same day, right after you got home.”

“You did? Why?”

“I told you we would still be married in 25 years. I kept them all those years waiting for this moment.”

“Oh, James…” She pulls him closer, kissing him even though the ceremony is still not over. There are giggles and sighes, but Lily feels only James’ lips and that happiness she associates with him for more than twenty-five years. “All I want is 25 more years with you.”

“And then 25 more?”

“As long as we can have it. Until the end.”

[giorno-plays-piano]

I would like a request for Steve Demon, something very dark and hot, thank you! 😈❤️

Hi darling! Thank you for your patience 🙏💖 This story was inspired by Slavic witch legends and VN Demonheart!

Oh, my love, don't forsake me

Pairing: demon!Steve Rogers x witch!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, dark magic, dubcon, witch!Nakia, mentions of violence.

Words: 1670.

___________________

You remembered your first encounter with him well. It had been your first Walpurgis Night when Nakia presented you to a coven: you had been taken through an initiation ritual to become a true witch, and all of you danced and drank and laughed, jumping through grand fire and burning your clothes till you all had been naked, only jewelry - necklaces, earrings and bracelets - left on your bodies.

It was then when demons had arrived, many of them flying directly to their witches and starting dancing with them, picking them up and letting them ride them high up in the sky as if they were horned horses, and you froze on your spot, watching their red bodies glowing.

"You will choose your demon lover today." Nakia whispered to you, smiling to her own mighty demon, his shoulders wide and muscular, his gaunt wings so large he could cover ten people with each. "There are several of those who are free."

"Today?" You asked her nervously, watching those demons without a witch on their backs. "But I thought I would be given time to let them know better."

You knew no one but Nakia, and the thought of choosing your demon right this very moment seemed a bit frightening to you. The witch was choosing her demon lover for eternity - unless both her and him would decide to separate, but it was highly unlikely as the bond they built had always been hard to break. How could you do it without knowing a demon first? Today you could make the worst mistake in your entire life - and afterlife, considering that your soul would travel back to Hell with your demon by your side.

"Don't fret over little things." The witch flashed you a wide smile, her flawless skin glowing softly in the dim light coming from the fire meters away from you. "You will be fine. Look at them! Who is the one you want the most?"

She motioned to the demons flying up in the air, their wings flapping, and you realized you could actually see what was beneath the loincloth of some of them, your face growing unbearably hot. How indecent! Why didn't they wear something more concealing?

"Because they are showing new witches what they got to offer." Your mentor laughed at your bemused expression, and you chuckled, thinking how you were standing naked in front of them with just a think golden necklace on, the only valuable jewelry you had. "Don't be shy, dear. Look, look at them! Ask me if you see someone attractive, and I will tell you everything I know."

Oh dear, it was probably the most embarrassing thing you had ever done, but you couldn't miss your only opportunity to know more about your future lover. Besides, you didn’t become a witch to spend your days caring about morals and decency, did you? You were going to sin till the very end of your life, and today could be a nice starting point. In the end, a physical body and all its parts were nothing to be ashamed of.

Watching several men, their skin scarlet, floating above the grand fire and laughing along the other couples, you tried focusing on those who you thought looked the strongest and sheepishly whispering to Nakia. You felt a little distressed her own lover had to wait for you, but the demon only grinned at you, baring his pearly white teeth, and bowed his head a little, visibly agreeing to wait longer. Maybe they weren’t all as scary as you imagined? You certainly hoped so, pointing to several demons and asking your mentor about them.

“This one? This is Tony, he’s a clever but vicious sort.”

“Aren’t they all?”

Turning her face to you, Nakia gently caressed your head as if you were her child. “No, darling. Not to us. But you are right, I doubt Tony would be the right choice for you. Maybe young Peter? It is his first Walpurgis Night, but he’s of age. Or Brock, that demon over there? Oh no, look at this ruthless barbarian...”

However, before you had time to look at the man she had pointing at, another demon suddenly crossed your way, and you stilled when he looked directly at you, his large crimson wings blocking the view for both Nakia and you. He stood out from the crowd with his glowing golden hair and immense wings that were bigger than even Nakia’s lover, and you frown when the demon landed on his goat hooves, aggressively ripping his loincloth away and baring his flesh in front of you. Your face grew hot at his shameless display, and searched for your mentor’s hand, clutching it in yours like a child, truly. What was that? Did you make the demon upset? Had you broken some rule you didn’t know about?

Nervously glancing at Nakia’s lover you saw him distressed, too, but he didn’t move further to protect you, standing on his place. Was it because there was no true danger or because he simply couldn’t protect his witch against the monster in front of you?

“Who is he?” Your whisper was barely audible as you trembled, clinging to Nakia, and she wrapped her warm arm around your shoulders, leaning closer to your ear.

“Steven of Triskelion. Do not be scared, my darling, he isn’t here to hurt you. I wonder why he’s courting you so... passionately, though.”

“Courting me?”

“Oh yes, my dear. Look at him, putting himself on display like that for a young witch. His desire for you must be strong.”

Softly waving at her lover and seeing him relaxing, Nakia gently pushed you in front, encouraging you to come closer to the demon whose gaze was so intense you were worried he would make a hole in you. Oh, you needed to talk to him. Probably. You weren’t sure, but by the look on the witch’s face you guessed the demon in front of you wasn’t necessarily a bad choice. Judging by his enormous form and his thick, veiny cock in between his muscled legs, maybe he really weren’t.

Suddenly feeling very self-conscious in front of him, you tried smiling and prevent yourself from covering your body with your hands - he had just shown himself completely naked to you, and it would be disrespectful of you to do otherwise. You certainly didn’t want to upset a demon like him.

“Hello, Sir. It is a pleasure to meet you.” You said politely, hoping he wouldn’t mind the way you talked to him. Should you bow to him? Offer him your hand? Kiss his cheek? No, no, you wouldn’t dare.

For a second you thought he was going to hit you, but you knew a demon would never do that to a witch, especially with a whole coven present. They’d ban him from ever pairing with any of them, stripping him of a possibly ally and lover. Only the most insane demons would try doing something as reckless and disrespectful, but they weren’t allowed to Walpurgis Night celebrations. Thank... Devil?

The demon suddenly chuckled, baring his sharp fangs, “You don’t have to be so polite with me, little witch. I am sorry for intimidating you for it was not my intention. Come closer.”

Liar! He loved the effect he had on you, you didn’t have to get inside his horned head to see it. Was he of patronizing kind? Maybe. It wasn’t the worst one among demons straight from Hell, and you smiled at him, putting your arm in his as he drew you closer to him, his other arm softly cupping your chin. His crimson body was radiating heat, and you enjoyed it when demon made you lean onto his wide chest. Despite being somewhat shy about the whole encounter, you were starting to warming up, demon’s touch having a strange effect on you.

“Allow me to give you this.” The man murmured into your ear, and you felt the heaviness of a string of pearls on your neck, touching it with your fingers and watching the demon with wide eyes.

Of course, you have heard of witches receiving gifts from their demonic lovers, but Steve was still a stranger to you. Was it right to accept something so expensive from him? While you tried looking for Nakia to ask her advice, the demon wrapped his large gaunt wings around you two, preventing you from searching for your friend, and forcefully turned your face to him, claiming your lips as if he wanted to devour you. You had no time to react before his huge tongue got inside your mouth, his clawed hand running up your rib cage and cupping your breasts as you whimpered against him, his body blazing hot. He didn’t give you a second to get accustomed to the kiss before spreading his wings and flapping them as he unceremoniously grabbed you by the hips and flew up, taking you with him. You let out a little mewl, clinging to Steve for life. What was he doing?!

“Don’t be scared, kitten. I’m not asking you to ride on my back just yet.” The demon’s voice was soft, but you could see his grin getting wider, and a part of you was nervous at his somewhat aggressive courting. “But wouldn’t you like it? I can be a powerful ally for a witch and a gentle lover for an innocent kitten like you.”

“Be careful, dear. Steve became bitter after his witch has left him to return to God,” Nakia’s voice said in your head, and you frowned, knowing the demon most certainly heard her, too.

She left him for God? What, how was this even possible?

Demon’s grin turned wicked as he kissed your forehead, getting higher and higher as other demons and witches danced below you. “It’s true, darling. That’s why after you choose me to be your lover I will carve your heart out of your chest and keep it with me.”

_____________

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki   @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @hurricanerin @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @brattycherubwrites @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @ximebebx @jeremyrennerfanxxxx123 @iheartsebandchris @lovelydarkdaydream @soleil-dor @illyrianprincess

[boop-le-snoot]

this song is stuck in my head, thanks to tiktok. this ficlet correlates (ish?) with my two previous pieces of stephen brainrot.

.

"That's not your place to decide," arms crossed, she stared Stephen down with all the forces of nature behind her, like an iceberg, all sharp edges, and incoming avalanche.

Stephen stood equally frozen, blue eyes as piercing as the most hard-working icebreaker. "No," his voice thundered, echoing between the rest of the team who watched the spectacle with little more than amusement. "And that is my final word."

It struck a chord within her, it was obvious. From the way she straightened in her spot to the way her fingertips dug into the softness of her arms, her body pulled as taut as a bowstring. "You are not my boss, you are not my father," the last word spoken with a smirk; she was openly mocking Stephen. "Some nerve you have, giving me orders."

The golden embers sprung to life in his eyes fully, fingertips shooting tiny little sparks flying over the table. Magic that the rest of the team pretended not to see - because, well, it wasn't like they could do anything about it and Loki was obviously enjoying the circus.

"I will lock you up, if I have to," the calmness in Stephen's voice was deceptive. "It's for your own good. You are not trained to be in the field."

That makes her laugh almost hysterically. "I am not trained?.." She trails off, shaking her head to clear the venomous, malicious joy. "Baby, I am a woman. All we have been taught is to appeal to men, from the day we wear our first clothes to the day that we die, all covered in flowers and make-up as we're quite literally decaying," there's a hidden rage in her words; she leans in, catching Stephen's wide eyes.

Natasha whistles, quietly, and Wanda shuffles in her place, looking awkward and uncomfortable. It isn't lost on them how most men blank at her statement. Stephen's no different. He remains quiet.

"So I will get this sonuvabitch without even really having to try. Because men think that they can make decisions for me, and I'm pretty," her words seep bitterness, like the strongest gin, they can all taste it in their mouths.

Loki's grin slides off his face like a Christmas ornament that has been hanging out for far too long.

She's drop-dead gorgeous in her dress. The fabric glistens in the candlelight, and she cocks the gun of it right at their unsuspecting target; he falls for it, of course, and they are forced to watch the exchange of pleasantries thorough several cameras; listen to the man's blatant flattery through several mics.

The worst part of it isn't concern for their un-official teammate; there was always a mutual understanding that she wasn't, didn't want to be quite one of them. She wasn't even a baby agent, just a civilian that knew a little too much.

Having to see her genuine personality, the, at times, obscenely joyful words melting off her tongue directed at someone else, at an enemy - it feels like walking on broken glass, like dragging bare feet through burning coal. They're all jealous. Natasha hasn't stopped grumbling about how she's laying it on too thick but deep down, everyone knows that the spy is just impressed by the sheer amount of charisma their girl seems to be in possession of.

"I'm not a fan of classical music, it's boring," she says, convincingly, playing the part of a slightly-above-average college student.

"What do the youngsters listen to these days?" The target asks in a patronising tone.

Somewhere in the background, Tony makes a quiet, sharp inhale into his mic. He'd said the same thing to her not too long ago. But it was different.

Instead of shooting the target a sarcastic grin and showing her teeth, she softly sings, coos. "Baby, I'm a gangsta too, and it takes two to tango," the song is vaguely familiar and a few of the team snort. "You don't wanna mess with me, mess with me," their target had leaned in, eyes darting between her plush lips and her cleavage.

"That's cute," the man breathes, but it's all wrong.

Stephen glows. A golden glow surrounds his bailed fists, a cloud the size of Manhattan hanging over his head like a lead curtain. Not one person can blame him, though.

She briefly upturns her nose, scoffing, and if they knew her even slightly a little but less, they would have been forced to give a standing ovation to her fake-flirting skils. Except the scrunch of her nose is quite obviously disgusted and her body language has that subtle undertone of wariness, as if she is trying to figure out how to inconspicuously shake off a piece of shit stuck to her shoe.

The mission is a success. They apprehend the man in his hotel room, Natasha waiting for him leisurely reclining on the bed and Loki holding onto a seething Stephen for his (and the criminal's) life.

She grins at them, all canines and blood-red lips. Stephen shudders, looking away, going through the motions of opening a portal just for the sake of doing something. Her shoes lay abandoned by the bed, bare feet padding on the carpet and into the portal, greeting the emptiness of the common room with a stretch.

Quick fingers make the work of removing the jewelry; its empty shine forlorn and discarded. Diamonds or just stray rays of the sun caught in the prismatic glass surface, they bear no meaning. The tight peplum dress gets hiked up to mid-thigh, the intricate hairstyle crumbles into endless waves of unruly hair, cascades over her shoulders.

Stephen watches with the portal shrinking behind his stiff form. The light of the hotel room on the other side makes a for a halo around his lithe form.

She admires it, the flow of his ironed dark robes, the graceful posture. Not without the eyebrow arch, however. She waits.

His eyes rake over the expensive dress, now crumpled and misshapen, the lipstick, now smeared from the bottle of some fancy soda; the way her hair stands up in all directions. Stephen can so nothing but shake his head at the provocation.

"Baby, I'm a gangsta too, and it takes two to tango, you don't wanna mess with me, mess with me..." She drawls mockingly, a challenge they both know he won't be able, doesn't want to resist.

[ptergwen]

hi ma’am, it’s the mj wh*re anon! 🥰 i know last time i requested some jealous/overprotective!mj, but what about “flustered mj who only wanted some coffee but the barista is TOO cute and she doesn’t know what talking or coffee is?” 😩

sugar, cuz you’re sweet

w/c: 1.1k

warnings: peter and ned are annoying, cussing

a/n: i love how that’s what we’re calling you 😭 and this is adorable thank you <3

-

michelle jones is the most honest, real, never afraid to speak her mind type girl in all of new york city. she knows it. everyone does. don’t get into a debate with her because you’ll lose, no matter the subject. she never concludes an interaction without a few snide remarks. they’re smarter than whatever you had to say.

the point is, mj is unapologetically herself in every situation and at all times. or so she thought.

peter and ned are making her order their coffees. they’re supposed to take turns, peter being all about equality in the group and the golden rule and blah blah blah. it reminds mj very much of somebody’s kindergarten teacher. she’s always found a way out of ordering because she’s mj. clever, persuasive mj. she can talk her way out of anything.

except for today when peter catches on. her excuse was lame. “i need to put down my backpack.” but, hey. you try fooling the only two people smarter than her. you’ll run out of ideas eventually. peter is pouty as he tells her that, “mj, it’s not fair! you haven’t gone up one time. how would you like it if-“ she has to interrupt him before she gets a speech.

“alright, alright, mother teresa. i’ll get the freaking drinks,” mj groans and kicks her chair back. peter smiles smugly, ned giving him a pat on the shoulder. “thanks. do you know what we want?” she blows at a piece of hair covering her eye. “you losers get the same things every time.” not bothering to push in her chair, she slumps over to the line.

ned yells, “don’t forget the whipped cream!” at her. that makes mj let out the longest sigh of her life. she very rarely does favors for other people. if you’re lucky enough to be one of them, it means she really loves you... or whatever.

mj waits on line while peter and ned get into a discussion about their nerd movies. her turn is next at least. she’s all prepared to grumble the order at the poor cashier, then you call her up.

“i can help whoever’s next,” you chirp, leaning over to see the group. your eyes land on mj. with a grin, you nod at her. the permanent scowl on her lips disappears. she takes a few steps up to you, feeling small even though she’s far from it. she finds herself thinking fuck, she’s pretty as you point at her torso.

“wait, i love your shirt,” you compliment and sound completely genuine about it. it’s mj’s favorite, her joan of arc one. a hint of a smile graces her face. “thanks.” her voice comes out much quieter than she intended it to. she didn’t know she was capable of being so... shy.

you tilt your head to the side and look down at the register. you’re still smiling. “no problem. what can i get you?” mj doesn’t hear a word you say. she’s entirely captivated by you, whoever you are. she notices pins with band logos on your shirt, ones she listens to. the probably homemade jewelry around your wrists. most importantly, your name tag. she’ll remember it.

mj doesn’t do the whole crush thing, not really. you just seem so chill and like you’d have a lot in common. also, you’re so pretty.

“do you know what you want?” you tap your nails against the register buttons. “i can suggest something, if that’s cool.” “um, i think so. the... the...” she can’t for the life of her remember what the hell peter and ned wanted. her face falls at that. sensing her nerves, you start punching things in on the register.

“i’ll surprise you. i’m good with those.” mj notices the corners of your lips turn up slightly. into a smirk. are you flirting? “ah, thank you. i’m, uh, not sure why i’m being so weird,” she laughs out. she’s very sure why. “you’re fine,” you snicker back and look up at her again. “just one drink?” “three,” mj quickly replies.

she rocks back and forth on her feet, you finishing up the order. “they’re on the house, by the way. they should be done soon,” you shrug the statement off. ok, you’re definitely flirting. “woah, thank you. can i give you a tip?” mj tucks the same piece of hair from earlier behind her ear. your eyes lock with her sparkling ones.

“nah, you don’t need to. just your name.” you’ve been waiting to get to this part. she’s not far behind you. “mj,” she speaks with the most certainty since you two began talking. “mj,” you murmur to yourself and punch it in. “you’re all good, mj. enjoy your drinks.” you give her a final heart racing smile. she really doesn’t want to go yet, but she has no choice.

returning the smile, mj waves at you. “bye.” she leaves the counter then, and you watch her go before calling up the next customer.

the drinks are done about five minutes later. mj has never been so excited to chug down a random liquid. that reminds her, she has no idea what you chose.

for the other two drinks, you made them your most popular. they’re larges, too. you decided on a plain black coffee with an obscene amount of sugar packets for mj. there’s actually a good reason behind it. you felt like she’s into the classics, and you aren’t wrong one bit. you left a note for her on the side of the cup.

‘lots of sugar, cuz you’re sweet ;) lol i’m bad at this but i liked talking to u, come back soon!’

mj giggles, literally giggles as she reads what you wrote. she should’ve ordered here a long ass time ago.

she’s in her happy place when she brings the tray back to the table, ned pursing his lips at her. “what’s with the face?” he comments on her dazed out look. peter is about to complain that she got their drinks wrong, but mj answers first. “the barista, she was cute and gave me the drinks for free. i think i like her.” she bites her lip to hold back yet another smile.

peter happily pulls one of the drinks from the tray, no longer concerned with its content. it’s not often mj is like this. he’ll bug her another time. “that’s awesome, mj. did you get her name?” he opens up one of the straws mj throws on the table. “y/n,” she sighs out in content. ned’s eyes go wide. “dude, y/n? she asked about you last time.”

and he didn’t think to tell her that? the part she mainly focuses on though, is that you noticed her. you wanted to meet her. this could actually go somewhere.

“you know what?” mj looks between peter and ned while ripping open one of her many sugar packets. “i’ll be the official drink orderer from now on.”

[mitsuki-komori]

hmm… can we get a part 2 of Your Yunoleo jealously fic where Leo hangs out with David again and then chaos happens-?

Took longer than expected, but here you go. I hope you enjoy it

Yuno took a deep breath. He had just finished a mission and he was pretty tired. He was on his way back, the only thing keeping him from falling over was the thought of sleeping in his comfortable bed.

As he approached the base of the Golden Dawn he spotted Letoile, he got off his broom. “What’s got you in such a bad mood?” He asked in a tired tone. She shook her head trying to hide her irritation.

“It’s just David. I actually invited to hang out for ONCE since he’s always asking me, but he refused because he’d rather hang out with your boyfriend.” She explained, Yuno tilted his head in confusion.

“What?”

Her expression turned into an apologetic one. “Oh! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, there’s nothing wrong with Leo, I’m just saying that-“

“It’s not that…” Yuno interrupted her, reassuring her he had taken no offense. “So Leo and David are hanging out?” 

Letoile nodded, “Yeah, they left for the capital an hour ago.” Yuno nodded, his expression indecipherable. He silently stood there. So Leo was hanging out with David… again. Why though? It’s not like he and Leo made plans, and if Leo were waiting for him he would still be at the base. Leo only hung out with David once to kill time, right? Or… Did Leo come to the Golden Dawn just to hang out with David?

“I see…” Yuno mumbled. Maybe he shouldn’t jump to conclusions, after all, Leo was very in love with him and he loved him just the same. Still, that didn’t change this feeling of rage and jealousy from welling up inside him.

“I think you should probably get some rest after your report, you seem tired. Maybe Leopold and David will be back when you wake up…” 

Yuno nodded and waved at Letoile before turning to walk inside… Leo and David… Yuno didn’t like it. He fell asleep with the distasteful thoughts of Leo and David hanging out.

“Really? I’ll definitely keep note of that, no ever going to the beach or eating seafood then? Man, that’s rough, I feel bad for you… I’m glad I’m not allergic to seaweed.” Leopold pitied David, he just sighed.

“Yes, well it’s fine. I’m used to it, just because I’m allergic doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy viewing the waves of the ocean… Although why do that when I can just look at a mirror instead?” He smiled, Leo rolled his eyes and scoffed.

“You sound like Kirsch… You know, it’s strange. I swear Yuno told me Asta has the same allergy! Maybe it’s more of a common allergy than I thought.” Leopold went into thought. Yuno… Apparently he went on a mission today. He thought about coming over to hang out with him until he heard that, but he decided to go anyway to hang out with David. He and David got along more than expected, they had pleasant conversations. So Leo only went to the Golden Dawn to hang out with David… Or so he would like to think, but deep inside he knew he secretly wanted an excuse to stick around long enough for Yuno to return. However, David had an idea to go to the capital to pick up some jewelry or food. Anything to make them go out into the world.

Leo didn’t get much, in fact, he just got two things. It was a bracelet and a necklace. David insisted he got at least one thing, so he figured he’d get a gift for Yuno and Mimosa. He got the  necklace for Mimosa. It was a silver chain and attached to it was a flower charm. It looked like a diamond, and in the middle of it were a few smaller gems consisting of the colors green and orange. He thought she might like it.

The bracelet on the other hand, it had five charms attached to it, Leo thought about getting the gold chain, but David convinced him to get the silver instead since it would go better with practically anything. The charms in it were a Lion charm, a flame charm, a wind charm, a four leaf charm, and lastly a heart in the middle. It all seems too perfect and Leopold could’ve sworn David did something, there’s no other way he’d just happen to find something so perfect!

Leopold snapped out of his little trance when he saw he and David were already back at the Golden Dawn, already? 

They both walked in. Leopold looked around and spotted Mimosa, he ran over to her. “Hey Mimosa!” He greeted her, she turned away from Klaus and smiled.

“Hello Leo! Welcome back, did you have fun?” She asked him, he nodded and reached for something in his bag. 

“Mimosa, close your eyes and hold out your hands!” Leo told her, confused, she did as he said. He pulled out the necklace and placed it in her hand. She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw the necklace.

“Wow Leo! This is beautiful! Thank you so much!” 

“I thought you might like it. Just a little gift!” Mimosa put it on, it did look great. “Have you seen Yuno yet?” Leopold questioned, Mimosa nodded.

“Yeah, he came in a little bit ago… Although he seemed a little grumpy if you ask me, don’t tell him I said that though!” She nervously laughed, Leopold nodded. Yuno was grumpy? Sounded silly said out loud. Why though? Leopold got ready to make his way to Yuno’s room.

He knocked on the door, but nobody answered. Was Yuno not there? Leopold decided to go check his office instead. He opened the door and walked in, but Yuno wasn’t there either! He went further into the room, and in doing so, he glanced out of the window. His eyes widened when he saw Yuno and David, they seemed to be sparring. Leopold quickly rushed out as fast as he could so he could get a better look.

He watched as they attacked each other, however this was just a one-sided battle. David was losing by a lot. “Yuno, what are you doing?” Leopold shouted. Yuno glanced at him for a second.

“Nothing much, just training. I thought maybe I could spar with someone.” Yuno explained, although it wasn’t the best explanation.

“Against David? This is just a one-sided battle though. You’ll hardly get any stronger unless you face someone more on your level.” Leopold walked up to Yuno, David clearly took offense to that.

“Perhaps your right, beating David is just too easy for me.” Yuno stated, Leopold tilted his head. That was certainly a strange sentence for Yuno. Leopold was confused, it was almost as if Yuno was trying to-

Oh.

That’s when the realization set in for Leopold. Yuno was jealous. He started to laugh. “Why are you laughing?” Yuno asked, very confused.

“I’m sorry, it’s just- I never thought you’d get so jealous because of me!” He snickered, Yuno jerked his head more towards Leo.

“What!? Jealous? Why would I get jealous? You can hang out with whoever you want…” Yuno denied it.

“It’s alright Yuno! I think it’s cute!” Leopold smiled, Yuno blushed. Leo thought him being jealous was cute!? David sneaked away while Leo and Yuno bickered. “But there’s really no need.” He started.

“What?”

Leopold smiled. “I’m always going to love you Yuno, no one else! I’m always thinking about you, nobody else could take that place in my heart, like today!” Leopold reached into his bag and held the bracelet in front of Yuno. “I got you this! I really wanted to get you something, and I thought you would like this…” Leopold nervously looked away.

Yuno stared in shock for a second and took the bracelet. He looked at it and smiled before putting it on. “Thank you Leo, I love it.” Leo’s smile widened and his face turned more red. “I’m sorry for acting like such an idiot. I guess I just hate seeing you with other people more than I thought I would…” Yuno apologized.

“Don’t worry about it! I mean, you’ll have to apologize to David later, but-“

“No.”

“What?” Leopold muttered. Yuno shook his head and pouted.

“No.”

“What!? What do you mean ‘no’!? You can’t do that, you have to apolo-“ Yuno cut Leo off by pulling Leo into a kiss, Leo quickly gave up. They pulled away after a few seconds.

Leopold took a few steps back, his face completely red. He pointed accusingly at Yuno. “Y-you can’t do that!” He yelled.

“Why not?” Yuno asked, he knew exactly what he was doing.

“B-b-because!” Leopold stuttered. Jeez… Why was he acting like this? They’ve kissed before, why did he still get nervous like this sometimes? Guess Yuno’s just got a special talent for Leo.

“I’m sorry, you just looked so adorable I couldn’t resist.” After Yuno had said that Leopold stood there, speechless.

“YOU IDIOT!”

[the-kingshound]

ROs reactions to MC becoming a cold and calculated killing machine because of the torture with RO now being their only soft spot?

Ohh, anon, I love this ask and since in game action will have permanent consequences I will make a follow up of this scenario so every RO's MC has been through a different kind of torture. It got a bit long, sorry, I kept writing and writing!

Arthur

When the Knights see you, they bow.

"Your Majesty."

You nod in their direction, signing them to raise. You then unsheathe your sword and stare at them with a pragmatic, focused glance "follow my lead."

You join the battle only after the second wave, attacking from the side and rapidly gaining the upper hand. When no more opponents stand in the field but injured and dying fighters, your chest heaves and your sword drips crimson blood from the tip.

"Your Majesty, a couple dozens of rival soldiers are retreating in the woods."

Your voice betrays nothing but a cold type of control when you answer "get the heavy chivalry to chase them. If possible, we take prisoners."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Arthur will be here shortly, you think just before you start metodically cleaning your sword to sheathe it. Your King, as you predicted, reaches your small group of knights shortly after. He seems to glow like a majestic, regal vision in the bright daylight. You can never get enough.

As you approach his knights, between rigid strides you crouch down briefly to pick up something from the grassy field. You have most of the knights eyes on you as you get near your husband and offer him a daisy.

He takes it with a radiant light in his eyes, you know that the softness there is more than reflected in yours. You plant a soft kiss on his cheek before you retreat.

"For you, my King."

And when Arthur keeps you close at night in your shared bed, holding your hand and kissing your knuckles one by one, you know you you could lose you fingers and your ability to wear his ring, but never his unrestrained, blinding love.

Evaine

Arthur strides through the castle's halls with his usual composed demeanor, exhuding a reflective sense of peace that is only exterior. Inside, he is worried and scared. Ever since the kidnapping, you've been cold and distant. More focused, in a way, calculated when you would have hesitated before. No matter the thin scar that marked your face or the limp that now slowed you down in combat, you were merciless. Arthur just wants you to feel safe again.

He rounds the corner and stops in front of his knight's door. He knocks and recieves no answer, probably because of the sound of more than one voice inside. Slowly, the King opens the door, calling with a soft voice "Evaine?"

The sight that greets him is... unexpected.

Evaine's room is drowning in garments, dresses, robes and cloaks are all over the bed and the large vanity. You're standing in front of the mirror, Evaine is just behind you, their finger ghosting on your skin as they tie a golden neckerchief around your neck.

As soon as Arthur's presence is noted, you clear your throat, molding your expression back in a neutral one, but not quite as closed off as the one you always wear.

"So, how do I look?"

You turn around to let him see the dress in its entirety, the wip scars quite visible on your back. Arthur's pained grimance fades quicky in favour of a soft, sincere smile "you're stunning."

His attention is then on his knight. Evaine is radiant, more relaxed than he's seen them in a very long time. More... present. They've not been well for the past months.

"You wanted to talk to me, my King?"

"Yes," Arthur nods "since I had to reschedule some of today's appointments, your schedule has been rearranged. You have the rest of the afternoon free."

If that's not entirely the truth - Arthur was in need of a Knight for the squire training, but it was also true that it has been too long since he's had fun with the younglings - no one needs to know.

And with a cheeeful "have fun" he's out of the room.

You look at the dress you're currently wearing in the mirror one more time, than turn back and take another robe, soft and tighter fitting, from Evaine's wardrobe.

"How about this?" you ask them.

"Mh," they hum, giving it a very serious assessment "it would compliment your eyes perfectly. And it's not that heavy compared to the previous ones."

You send them a blinding smile, trowing your arms over them in a playful hug, than you let them help you hastly put it on.

Sometimes you forget yourself to the memories and the freezing phantom of a long gone pain, but everytime Evaine is there to bring you back, offering distractions that bring you joy and happiness. That night Evaine tells you you're the most beautiful and bright star in the sky and, for the first time since the kidnapping, you believe them.

Morien

Whispers of the King's hound gone rabid have all but taken hold of the settlements near Kev, the last town to know your uncontained fury as your informants found some dissidents nobles. You made sure not to leave the town unscathed to be of warning for whoever next dared to conspire against the King.

There are frightened voices murmuring of an heartless punisher, what they recount are mostly exaggerated distortions of true events, but they do get right the almost lifeless glint in your eyes as you write down orders.

At this point, even some knights are scared of you, of the seemingly merciless way you stare down at them without ever breathing a word. There is only one person able to get past the coldness that replaced your lost tongue, and it's the court physician.

You are currently in Morien's arms, buried in the familiarity of their scent that is secure and grounding. This feels like a rare privilege for how much Morien usually shyes away contact. With you they have reached a level of comfort, through, that sees you gifted with the warmth of their body whenever you need it and you couldn't be more grateful for that.

"Plans for today?" they ask you a rough but comforting tone of voice.

Frighten the knights, you sign and instantly they let out a humored chuckle.

"Alright, you have my attention. How do you want to proceed?"

Just tell them I want to see them all in the courtyard. They skipped training yesterday and went out drinking to celebrate. you let out a voiceless hum  I'm not really mad but they don't know that.

Morien's laugh is brief but sincere "well, let's go then."

And as you get ready, you tie a red ribbon to your wrist, very alike the ones that sometimes Morien themselves ties to their cane. The physician looks as it and then their eyes are fixed on your face with a mixture of emotion that is both fondness and tender adoration. You shrug, then offer them your arm as you walk in silence through the halls in the courtyard's direction.

Gwyar

The mark has made very difficult for people to meet your eyes and watch you in the face. You don't hold it against them, though, you know you're not an easy sight. The only ones in this room who can actually stomach it are Arthur and Gwyar, and while the King can hardly suppress the guilt, your manservant has managed to push it down in favour of their usual attentive posture.

With a fluent movement they are beside you, refilling your cup of whine and whispering in your ear with a bland tone.

"Lady Deva is under the impression that a necklace has been stolen by the less than reputable Lord Havet."

Your interest piqued, you arch a brow in their direction, only to catch at the corner of your eye the sparkling of jewelry.

Careful to mantain a neutral expression, you subtly extend your arm in their direction with the open palm facing upwards. Gwyar lets the necklace fall in your possession with an effortless movement, then they fall back behind you with the grace of a liquid shadow they've always possessed. No one seems to have noticed the brief exchange.

It does take the meal to finish before finally some action unfolds. You register Lady Deva bringing her fingers to her empty collarbone and instantly her eyes snap to the Lord at her side.

"How dare you" she hisses, low enough not to make a scene but with enough vehemence to make him reel back.

"My Lady, I sincerely don't know what-"

"My necklace."

"What of it?"

By now the altercation has managed to attract most of the other nobles attention. The argument gets heated quickly and as the situation unfolds you fail to contain a wicked grin. Arthur, to your left, is surprised by it ony for a second, then he catches the feral glint in Gwyar's eyes, just behind you, and he has to bring a hand to his mouth to suppress a laugh of his own.

Taking pity on them, you clear your throat, your voice steel cold but not unkind "did it have by chance an engraved pendant?"

The scraped sound of your voice, a bit rough from unuse, is enough to snap the entire room to silence and attention. The lady's eyes widen as she watches you extract the necklace out of your robe, her eyes immediately falling off your face as her expression contorts into a mixture of embarassment and fear.

"I found it just outside of the chamber, in the hall."

"Ah, I- I probably lost it" the lady stammers and you have to figh your lips from curling upwards as another wave of hilarity hits you.

That night, Gwyar is so undeniably proud of your performance you can only laugh with them and take them in your arms as you both fall on the bed. They let their gaze wonder on your face and they breathe out a raspy praise. You are motionless as they kiss your mark and you think in that instant that you'd let it happen only with them. Only with them - and the phrase holds a strange type of comfort.