#its almost the end of business proposal

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

dinner prep engagement ♡

a/n : aaaand its finally here, the final part of the ring pop proposal miniseries after decades !!!! im sorry it took me so long to write this final part yall, i just finally felt enough inspo to write it and im super happy w how it came out ! i hope yall do too ! lemme know if you wanna be added to the taglist ! much luv xx

fem reader, literally pure fluff between mama n son, katsuki gets emotional very quickly bc i believe he does and you cannot make me think otherwise, a lil emotional but pure sweetness, mentions of making dinner, lmk if i missed sum else !!

this time, mitsuki has no idea what her son is planning. sure she’s had her hopes for years now, and her suspicions, but nothing truly concrete.

that is, until she gets a call in the middle of the night.

"katsuki..hello ?" she answers groggily, heaving a sigh and rubbing at her eyes. she checks next to her to make sure she hasn't woken her husband up, her eyes dart over to her digital clock " 'ts one in the morning."

"uh..hey." her son's gruff voice sounds over the phone, she raises a brow at his hesitant tone of voice, but she let's him continue "yeah, i know. sorry.." he mumbles out.

the older woman shakes her head affectionately "it's fine..is there something you wanted to talk about ?"

it's silent on the other end for a while until katsuki mumbles something. "katsuki, you know i can't hear you if you don't speak up." she scolds lightly, causing him to growl under his breath.

"not..not right now, no--just..can i come over tomorrow ?"

taking in her silence for hesitance he continues " it's nothin' bad..i just--feel like it's something i needa say face to face, i guess.."

"okay..yeah, of course. you know you can come over whenever you want." she urges "is yn comin' along ?"

"no, she isn't." she can practically hear his eye roll and it makes her smirk "she'll be busy tomorrow anyway so, not this time. i'll tell her you said hello though, since you're always tellin' me to."

she's about to retort when katsuki speaks again, only not to her. she hears what she knows is your voice quietly chatting with him as he reassures you that he'll be right there with you and for you to go back to bed. the soft tone in his voice makes her eyes soften.

never could she ever have imagined her katsuki ever speaking so softly to anyone, because her katsuki is, despite having calmed down over the years, still quite the brat. (she's pretty sure she knows where he gets it from now..) he's still temperamental when interviewers and journalists get on his nerves. he's still awfully moody , but he's different now. he's just a little bit gentler with the way he handles kids or older women who's cats have gotten stuck in trees. complaining that this isn't his damn job but still doing it anyway with utmost care as the kitties sink their sharp claws into his skin or cling to him for warmth.

he's a still a little rough around the edges but it's the thought that counts. he's different than when he was younger, but he still is the most different with you. his rough and gruff voice that he uses to bark out orders and complain, complain, complain, he uses so softly around you, keeping you as calm and sleepy as possible. it's not perfect, but he manages to usher you back to your room to sleep, and that makes the thought count so much more.

"m'gonna go now." he warns, his mother hums in agreement, telling him she'll see him tomorrow and he reciprocates the goodbye.

"night, ma."

"night, kiddo." she grins, a happy sigh leaving her when she hangs up the call and lays back down. cozying herself up next to her husband.

she's had her suspicions and her hopes for a while now, but she can't be too sure what her son could possibly want from her tomorrow.

katsuki comes back home like he's never left.

the day goes like any other day would've went a few years ago when he was still living in the family home. mitsuki almost expects her son to run off upstairs to do his homework.

he greets his dad with a half hug, and is forced into a tight embrace by his mother, which he grumbles about. grumbles turning into a growl when she grips his cheek, scolding him for not greeting his mother properly.

it's a lot of catching up from the few months he's been busy with hero work. talking about his latests achievements and his quick climbing of the hero ranks, accompanied with barely suppressed smiles and softened eyes when you're brought up. mitsuki remembers how nervous he'd been when he'd told her he was planning on asking you to move in with him, so she's happy to hear from the both of you, since she has your number and you like to catch up every now and then, that everything was going well. though she already knew it would.

katsuki volunteered to help with dinner, his mother happily agreeing saying she could use some help. it makes her a little bit nostalgic and she wills herself not to get teary eyed at how much her son has grown.

but she sees that the opportunity has presented itself to bring up the topic that's been on the tip of her tongue the entire day now.

"so.." she sings "you wanted to talk about something, right ?"

katsuki stiffens like he'd forgotten, although his expression stays the same besides the slight squint of his eyes. the rhythmic cutting of vegetables has stopped and it takes him a moment before he speaks quietly like he's revealing a secret.

"i wanna ask yn to marry me."

oh.

so that was it.

"oh." she breathes immediately. a broad smile slowly grows onto her face and she beams "took you long enough, ya brat !" she exclaims, slapping her sons muscular arm. he growls lowly at her, leaning away from her though she remains undeterred. poking at his sides while he tries to smack her hands away.

finally, she relents "when are you gonna ask ?" she asks excitedly. katsuki huffs, eyebrows still heavily furrowed from her earlier attack. he turns back to the cutting board "soon. i arranged my schedule and we'll both be free, so in two weeks from now."

"you already have a ring ?"

he grunts in agreement. and mitsuki besides being proud of the fact her hunch was right, feels her heart warms at the burst of nostalgia of her little boy. her katsuki, kicking his feet in the backseat of her car. tightly gripping his bag of ring pop candies he'd give to you the next day. her little katsuki, who'd proudly claimed he was going to marry you when he grew up in that very same car, exclaiming that he'd proposed to you with those very same candies he'd almost had a tantrum over her not getting.

her little boy, who'd gotten oh so big, and so, so much more enamoured with you.

"good." she utters sweetly, voice just a bit wobbly "good. that's great, katsuki."

he nods to himself " i've thought about it for a while now..long while." he scoffs to himself, eyes focused on the cutting board in front of him. "got the whole day planned out too."

"yeah ?" he nods. her eyes soften as he speaks mostly to himself, he's had this little self hype up habit ever since he was a boy. trying to calm himself down and reassure himself. it's a smart move, but as strong and mature as he is, katsuki is nothing more than human. and anxieties can creep up on the best of us.

she's seen it before, and she sees it again when he bites his bottom lip in thought, and she smiles softly.

and again, she coaxes him into it " that sounds nice, looks like you got it all planned out, huh?"

and he nods again. but it doesn't take him, long before he breaks.

"..what if she says no ?"

and mitsuki wants to laugh. she really does, because the thought of you ever saying no to him sounds absolutely ridiculous to her. she snorts. shaking her head while her son looks at her incredulously.

"katsuki.." she tuts, chuckling to herself before she looks up at him. "you've got absolutely nothing to worry about. you've got it."

his eyes widen, then her son's expression drops as he raises a brow "how do you know that ?" his words make her smile widen this much more and she really wants to laugh.

how does she know. she scoffs

she knows because she knows him. she knows her katsuki better than anyone else, he's her son. she knows he's rude, rowdy, quipy, temperamental and everything else. he's all of that and so much more.

and yet you still love him. you're still so incredibly patient with him, you still offer him all of your kindness despite him once confessing to her he doesn't understand how you do. despite all of the times he's messed up, the times he's fallen down, you stay by his side you care for him, you care about him.

she knows her katsuki is absolutely infatuated with you, he always has been. from tantrums about being separated in class and knowing your favourite ice cream flavour to him being overly protective over you when you were paired up with your lab partner that ended up not being him and to him wearing the stupid stuffy tux mitsuki tailor made for him to take you to prom.

you've always been his number one best friend, but he's always been yours as well : he loves you, but you love him just as much.

and so mitsuki smiles "call it mother's intuition. and, not to brag, but i think most of my hunches have been right by now" and it widens when katsuki scoffs and rolls his eyes at her boasting, another bratty little habit he has that he's practically mastered over the years. she sighs, spreading her arms out towards him "well come over here. you've gone and gotten so damn tall, i can't reach you myself !" her son rolls his eyes again, but he scoffs softly to himself and with a shake of his head, he closes the distance and hunches over to hug his mother. she wraps her arms around him tightly and he grumbles when she squeezes but he doesn't try to get away.

"there's nothing for you to worry about, katsuki. absolutely nothing." she repeats, rubbing his back. "you love each other, and that's more than enough. just be yourself, it's been working out for you this far..somehow." she jests. katsuki scoffs indignantly but they both end up chuckling about it. after a few more seconds they pull away and mitsuki pats her son's chest with a sniffle. right on top of his heart that she knows, she's seen, has gone through oh so much.

but still remained entirely yours throughout all the years and still so so so enamoured with you.

gripping onto his shoulders, she whispers "you got this." the glossiness in his eyes is impossible to miss, he's always cried very easily. but she guesses she mirrors his expression exactly. her son is the spitting image of her after all. she places a hand on his cheek and he leans into it.

"thanks, ma" he whispers sincerely. and mitsuki feels her heart soar.

"any time."

during dinner, katsuki announces the news to his father. who after getting over his shock immediately wraps his son into a hug. congratulating him and encouraging him with teary eyes, she knows where katsuki gets that from, before they all settle down to have dinner before katsuki leaves a few hours later. waving off his mother's insistence to pass you a greeting with a grumbled acknowledgement.

she shakes her head as her and her husband watch him drive off but her heart is full of pride.

"we raised a killer son didn't we ?" she giggles looking back at masaru, who agrees with a smile as they share a laugh.

and the next time you both come over, you're giddy. unable to keep your excitement in check as you keep excitedly looking back at katsuki, who finally relents with an affectionate sigh and you happily show off you're ringed finger with a squeal.

mitsuki squeals right back, wrapping you up in the tightest bear hug she could. masaru takes his turn hugging you, sweetly congratulating you both. of course, they'll tell you they both new in advance, but that was all for later.

sure, she didn't know what her son was planning in advance, but she had her hunches and her funny feeling from all those years ago that you'd be sticking around. she guesses it's good enough that she was the first to be told.

she sends her son a proud and teasing smile when they make eye contact. he rolls his eyes, but the smile on his face doesn't fade as he watches you talk with his father. she doesn't have to say a single word for him to know what she's saying.

i told you so.

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn @kvk6433gkcigv @coolgirl458 @beekeepingageissome

[the-flaneur]

the worst attempt of nnn ever

pairing: f1 grid x gn!reader [headcanon]

ft. the whole 2024 grid

summary: technically everyone wins, aka who's most likely to fail nnn the quickest

warnings: shitpost/crack, very suggestive content and some 18+, MDNI, NSFW -> smut

[masterlist] [requests]

fail first

lewis

this man has zero discipline when it comes to you

absolute zero, zip, zilch, nada

normally he's on you 24/7

but when it comes to the end of the season and most things have been tied up and he dgaf, what better way to end each week than by fucking your brains out

aka 25/8 times a week

so when you attempt to propose to do nnn "for fun" on the 31st, he glares at you, calls you dumb before fucking you silly overnight (until the 1st) so that you never suggest it again that month/year

(he also bribes other drivers and wags to make sure that you are NOT included in their nnn plans)

zhou

shockingly in second place

but only cause he loves you too much, finds nnn a weird tradition (when you explained the basics) and just wants to snuggle with you and sweetcorn in bed

like why make yourself unconfortable and horny when he could just be happy and satisfied (and still horny) with you :D

lando

man is so fired up about the championship battle that he doesn't entertain the notion and just fucks you the minute november starts just to make sure you know not to fuck with him

he only manages to hang onto longer than lewis and zhou cause he was tired and forgot what time it was

carlos

had planned on competing with lando, since they had done it the year before, and the year before that (aka when they were teamates)

but when he found out from you (who found out from lando's partner) that they had already failed, he said to try for a few days

you said you didn't want to

"but it might be good for us" carlos had complained, saying something no one had ever said

and so you just like seduced him like five days later then BAM WHAM, he's back to blowing your back out

not that he needed that much encouragement

pierre

just wanted to fuck you in peace for halloween after you showed up in a very hot outfit

but then charles was like oohhhh we should try this

(f u charles)

but then almost cried in the shower when he realised he couldn't jerk off either

you heard him whimpering, laughed about it and then sucked him off

he tried to hide it, but charles found out anyways

max

is usually too busy to fuck you during race weekends so, he just failed when he like normally fucked you

cause he wanted to fuck you

cause yeah...

so....yeah...

oscar

likes to pretend he's disciplined and has lots of mental restraint

(he doesn't have restraint when it comes to you)

tried to keep some distance, aka by not arriving together at the paddock

but then failed after he saw you with franco, got jealous, said f this shit and then took you in his driver's room

checo

didn't give two flying fucks

only got interested cause evens was talking about it

but throws the challenge out the windoow the minute you insinuate that he seems "weak" about you

kmag

thinks its childish but still wanted to try it

got actually comfortable with it, until you made a sexy joke

hulk

lasts longer cause kmag found it childish

but still wanted to try it too after kmag told him about it

ocon

just wanted to beat gasly

lance

wanted to fuck you

so he complained to his father about the challenge and how you were going give him a reward at the end

so evil stepmum kdrama style, lawerence comes in and tries to give you envelopes of cash to get you to fuck stroll

you gleefully refuse

you manage to negotiate three ashton martins, a ferrari laferrari, and more, before still teasing him

to which he just gives up, and waits for you

george

for those actually dedicated to doing it, he set up the betting pool and "official" rules

(no charles...touching and edging yourself is not "illegal" but you're running the sPIrIt of the challenge)

but like lost out in the second week, when he saw you were having an amazing hair day

said ok i wanna pull on it *with grabby hands* and then gave up

(everyone mocked him relentlessly afterwards)

valterri

super chill about it

tried it only cause you wanted to try it for fun

actually found it hard to be away from you (only cause you love him so much too)

but you managed to reach the third week before simply saying

"that's enough"

franco

had never heard of it

but defs wanted to try after he learnt a about it

got really pissed off by the second week cause you were also teasing him sooooo much

but you kept refusing

basically had to beg his way into convincing you "near" it, and only seeing him get really pouty did you give in

yuki

swears and glares daggers at you the entire three weeks

but he's gotta prove that big things come in small packages

and actually makes it almost to week four before passing out from sheer horniness

fernando

actually lasts longer than most people thought he would

(liam spitefully calls out that he thought nando's blue balls would fall off)

is happy he is technically the best wdc at nnn (even moreso that lewis lost first)

makes it to like the last couple of days

you get bored and tired

so now fernando is bored and tired and just fucks you

alex

certified genz brainrotter

ofc know what it is, and is demandin to win it and prove he's at least NOT a lost in one area (his words not yours)

makes it to the last few days, before you trick into letting you give him a handjob

tries to argue technicalities with george

but by then nov its over and he just gives up

charles

used all his ferrari training in patience to last this long

wanted to tell you to kys when you suggested it

but eventually he got soooo into doing it, he was policing you

however he losses cause he was stupid

you're on his jet

he forgets time zones exist

thought he won

sent a gloating text message to the gc

and [redacted] beats him on the technicality

liam

this man is going all in no regrets, gambling style 😎

even if he didn't propose it, he's definetly the most eager to prove himself (especially to fernando and checo)

he's setting up strict rules to ensure that his dick does not get anywhere near you when sleeping, eating or breathing

(in the last few days he desperately asks you to sleep in the guest bedroom cause he's this close 🤏 to caving in)

however, he resists and gets bragging rights over everyone for the rest of the year.

fail last/succeed

permanent f1 taglist (comment or msg me to join)

@charlesgirl16 @tallrock35 @sweate-r-weathe-r @unlikelystay @alex-wotton

@daisyfreecs @euphorihan @louloucs @oikarma @dying-inside-but-its-classy

@fadingcloudballoon

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[seraphicloves]

𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝟏𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐞

⊱✿⊰ summary: headcanons with overblot gang and a flirtatious s/o

⊱✿⊰ warnings: flirting, pick up lines, idia explodes /j, lwk cringe, gender neutral reader, reader could be yuu or anyone really, requested

⊱✿⊰ notes: fire request gang, hope this is to your standards :) (also i need more twst requests & friends. nobody seems to wanna be mutuals 😓 prolly my fault tho im ngl)

riddle rosehearts:

❀ he is barely used to having romantic relations, so it is hard for him to process that you're so...vocally affectionate. he's used to zero affection, even with his own way of showing love to be reserved. so he can be surprised by your brazen behavior

❀ you turn his face red easily with a sultry tone and a well placed glance to his lips. somebody he cares about romantically, saying those sort of things? riddle is sure his face is on fire and his heart is pounding loud enough for rsa to hear

❀ everybody lwk makes fun of him for getting flustered so easily. even your cringy pick up lines make him act like you dropped a knee and proposed.

❀ he loves how flirtatious you are, even if it makes him totally shy. he admires it in a way, how you're so bold and confident. you're unafraid of your desires, something riddle wished he could relate to.

leona kingscholar

❀ he is also a flirt, but in like a lazy way yk? he doesn't put effort into flirtation, no pickup lines or properly romantic lines. he just gives you a sexy smirk, and says something sweet while being totally casual

❀ its hard to fluster him, at least outwardly. the most you'll get out is a slight flush and a laugh if you say something especially flirty. however internally, he is totally freaking out and like so happy.

❀ if you say a dumb pickup line, he will call it dumb. and without any sort of shame or feeling bad. he calls it like it is.

"are you my homework? because i am gonna do you on the table all night long."

he gives you the -_- and says, "where did you see that line? how to make your boyfriend cringe?"

❀ he is also incredibly territorial so he will get jealous if you flirt with someone else, even if unintentionally. he will wrap an arm around your waist, pulling you flush aganist him. making sure everybody knows who gets you in their bed every night.

azul ashengrotto

❀ he is also part of the flustered gang, since he is typically very professional behaving. he is almost incapable of saying something flirty, despite how usually charismatic he might seem.

❀ i feel like he would try to flirt back, thinking like its your way of showing love so he wants to do it as well. he'd search up pick up lines and try them out on you:

"are you my library card? because im always checking you out." (yes it is as cringy as it seems.)

❀ he might get a little jealous if you start flirting (unintentionally) with someone else, mostly because he has rather terrible self esteem. azul is insecure in himself, often wondering if you would be better with somebody else. so be sure to reassure him!

❀ he might also use your flirty nature for his business pursuits. get you to flirt with some customers,especially with your beauty, and he is sure to get some more profit. also he might feel a little jealous, he knows you are helping with the monstro lounge so its okay!

jamil viper

❀ i feel like he could also be very flirtatious if he was feeling up for it. jamil can be silver tongued, but its really only when he isn't too exhausted from kalim's ridiculous behavior. so yeah, he could give you a run for your money if he wanted to.

❀ he's probably not going to get jealous, mainly because he knows who you go to at the end of the day. if you are his s/o, he has enough faith that you would not leave him on a whim so mild flirting doesn't bother him.

❀ jamil mostly flirts through words of praise. he is very full of praise and compliments, which normally would sound like total bullshit but he makes it sound sincere enough your toes curl. he also just has a lovely voice, deep and sultry with that slight curl that makes your heart race. he would be perfect for reading audio books.

❀ he gets amused by your flirty behavior, with your affection and words. he especially loves hearing you compliment him, filling him with a delicious sense of pride. jamil has an ego, which he loves to get bigger because of you

vil schoenheit

❀ he is going to be a master flirt. he knows how to make somebody blush with a few calculated moves. he's an actor and he's very smart, of course he knows how to flirt. he probably flirts more than you, it might be so ingrained in him that he flirts unintentionally.

❀ he doesn't get jealous simply because he also acts similarly. he understands it is a part of your personality and you wouldn't be unfaithful with him. he sort of sees it as the public's you, and he gets to have the real you. even if flirting is still in your nature, he gets to see past the polite smiles and small talk.

❀ he might even give you tips on how to better seduce the people around you. he doesn't mean to be critical, he just wants you to be the very best version of yourself. so he (very gently) shows you ways to be more sultry and romantic, to make everybody weak in the knees. if he was particularly bored, he might even silently rate your performance.

❀ he is probably the best person to be more flirtatious around. he is able to let your personality shine free without any sort of complications.

idia shroud

❀ if vil is the best, idia might be the worst. when he gets flustered, he closes in and runs away. so you probably have to chase him down whenever you say something particularly swoonworthy.

"stop! i'm overloading, i need a break to cool down!"

"all i did was hug your arm and kiss you!"

❀ he might also call your flirting "cringe" even if its not. like, he totally pretends like he thinks being all flirty and PDA is so not cool (but inside he squeals like a little girl). idia can't help it, he's programmed to reject things that make him nervous!

❀ okay i think after a while of dating him, and he gets more comfortable around you (and more comfortable being flustered around you) he might try out a line or two. but instead of something random like azul, he makes them focused to your interests. like whatever fandoms you are in, he finds (or makes) pick up lines related to it.

❀ i think idia would play more otome games just to practice flirting so he can try to get on the same level as you. he wants to be as confident and collected as you, so what better way than to practice digitally? he doesn't hide the fact he is playing otome games, he just might hide the fact its so he can learn to make you blush.

malleus draconia

❀ he rarely even picks up on your flirty behavior. like he knows how it makes him feel but he assumes that is how everybody behaves when you say stuff. his heart racing? oh yeah thats the usual sort of thing when [name] is around. he doesn't fully understand the whole intention behind it.

❀ yeah...i'm gonna say you might need to rein in flirting with other people. malleus will either get mad jealous or he will get sad, thinking you are trying to be unfaithful. so reassure him and try to keep those bedroom eyes away from anybody but your man.

❀ he is also flirty in the sense of how wholeheartedly romantic he is. bro puts his whole malleussy into loving you. he follows you around like a lost puppy, eyes constantly shining with pure adoration. you consume him entirely and he is unafraid of letting the world know.

❀ malleus has probably said some crazily romantic things without even realizing it wasn't the norm. he has said he will marry you, he has compared your beauty to the moon shining over the ocean. he becomes a poet when it comes to loving you.

lori © 2024. please don't copy, modify, or do anything weird with my writing! i like reblogs and comments but please be kind as this was my writing.

[ozzgin]

Count Orlok x Reader Posting a preview of the idea I've had because I can't muster the motivation to write a full fic for it :') content: gender neutral reader, dubcon, captivity, obsessive behavior

When you were sent to the Orlok Castle, you assumed it would be a quick affair. It was the usual business talk, you'd been told, so you entered the gloomy courtyard with haste and obliviousness. You didn't expect that the great gates would immediately shut behind you, or that you'd be promptly and unceremoniously prevented from leaving.

The count explained to you, with factual nonchalance, that you were promised to him as a consort. By whom, you demanded to know, staring the man down incredulously. You were offered a foreign, unfamiliar name.

"I wouldn't expect you to recognize it," he retorted between heavy breaths. "It's been over a century."

It could very well be longer than that, though he shan't bother with numbers. The important details are in his hand: the clawed fingers clutch onto an old, faded letter, which you pry with increasing alarm. The writing is intricate, and you don't understand the language. Romanian? Old Romanian, perhaps? Narrowing your eyes, you can almost discern some words you've encountered during your stay in this country.

"How does this relate to me?"

"It's all there, isn't it?" he takes a moment to observe your confusion, a sardonic smile creasing his features. "Your ancestor."

He searches his pocket and hands you a second letter, this time in your native language. This is a visibly more recent document, probably translated for your sake. It's a deal, an arrangement, written by a self-proclaimed solomonar. You've heard the old people at the inn talking about it; ancient wizards, initiated priests who've studied the secrets of the world under the Earth's mantle. They bring forth the storms and tame the dragons. Count Orlok himself, it seems, is a fellow solomonar who traded his soul to the devil for everlasting life. This time it was your ancestor proposing a deal in exchange for fiendish powers, promising one of his descendants in return.

You'd find it all to be folk and nonsense if you hadn't witnessed the ghoulish creature's prowess firsthand.

"Why me," you cry out, scouring the paper once more. A descendant, it says, yet nowhere does it mention any kind of particularity beyond bloodline. There must've been some distant cousin who could've taken your place just as fine.

The decaying carcass of a man can only chuckle, taking his seat at the end of the grand table. The answer you're seeking is exceptionally simple: he wanted you. Oh, he's waited years for the right human. Decades upon decades, quietly awaiting his reward in all its splendor, until, at last, you came along. He knew from the moment you were born that you'd be the one at his side.

He taps the wooden surface impatiently, eyeing your neck with greed. He's not a brute, you see, he'll give you the time to accept your fate. Make no mistake, however: you are to be his, and there is no escape from it. No one - and he truly means it - no one shall ever love you to the same depths of fervor and pathos.

[balteredsworld]

turning point. gregory house

🥼🩺 | you and house despise each other. today's supposed to be any other night, but house kisses you.

warnings/tags! light enemies-to-lovers, angst if you squint your eyes, younger woman x older man, emotional revelations, no dialogue, and they kiss!

masterlist : greg house n all

a/n: i can't believe people are sending in things in my inbox wow if you have any requests/ideas or little topics of conversations don't shy away and send them my way! enjoy ducklings <3

house reaches for your wrist, taking you into his grasp, and pulling you flush against his body. you jolt at the sudden motion, left hand landing and pressing on his chest. sure eyes linger on your face for a fraction of a second. beauty eclipsing any and all thought working the cogs in his busy mind. all he thinks to himself is how breathtaking you are in this moment.

many a time the two of you would rather bicker, almost estranged in your sidings with cuddy. but you were legally bound by contract to side with her, serving as a board member this year.

tonight’s no different, you’re here because of house’s opposition to a hospital policy you and the board proposed. he’s been on a childish campaign to get you to concede to his wishes, after all he does whatever he wants in the hospital. but he makes a deductive confession that changes the tune of your usual argument. and tonight’s a little different, with it being the annual gala.

you wear this burgundy dress off some runway that he makes note of, and he’s in his well-pressed, well-tailored suit. you came here to declare a truce, but instead you let house press your buttons, somehow finding yourself ending the argument against his chest.

house’s hand snakes its way to the nook of your back. then, his lips were latched onto yours. he's kissing you.

gregory house is kissing you.

your tense body melts into his touch, reciprocating the kiss despite your initial surprise. you loop an arm around his neck, pushing him closer to you, causing the two of you to wobble, but he steadies your weight and deepens the kiss.

it’s sweet, passionate, and almost desparate, as if this was years of yearning. but you’re not so illusioned that you mistake this as something other than all your anger and hostility towards each other finally being squeeze out by the force of your locked lips—into this kiss.

it’s a kiss the two of you unknowingly wanted, hidden underneath the veneer of your harsh and clashing words. you’re not afraid to argue with house, equally venomous with your tongue during your time as a defence lawyer. and house is the same, sharpened tongue to prove his correctness in principle.

but you two fear that you’ve exposed yourselves to the possibility of tragedy. maybe it's because you two have been really eyeing each other all along, testing how you could handle each other. never once have you failed, nor has house. that scared you shitless, but the moment’s well worth it. house makes good work with his lips, and you float in some sort of heaven, feeling the frustration finally rupture. and he feels the same.

slowly, you both pull away from each other, breathless and flushed. you don’t pull away immediately, staying interlocked in his grasp. your eyes are both down cast, not quite refusing to look at the other, but rather frozen and unsure where to look. despite it, house’s eyes radiate blue.

it’s too intimate for you and house, and yet you keep still. he’s kept to himself all these years, only to have you cut into his bubble between the hookers he distracts himself with. he thinks that’s where his resentment of you stems from, but it’s never really been quite hatred, he realizes. you’re the same, lonelier than you would like to admit. no one, so it seemed, could tug on your heartstrings except this man you found nothing but annoyance for.

house is perplexed. his mouth is agape, nothing quite registering to allow his neurons to fire and form words. something of his old self manifests, and a warm feeling feathers his heart. a touch like this was no stranger to that ghost, but all the other flirtations he makes falls in comparison. there’s only you and him

his sense are faint yet heightened, just from his proximity to you. biologically speaking, he’s doing really well, and he can hear his pulse pounding, and feel yours mirror his. he’s forgotten what this feels like, but sure it was this, and that makes his heart race faster. it’s almost dizzying.

house continues to direct his eyes on your curled hair, unsure of how to look at you. he considers leaving without another word, but he feels stuck to you.

you mirror house, too dazed to do anything. an overwhelming euphoria shoots through you, the sort of nervous excitement that makes you feel like a teenager. you’re younger than house, and you bite your cheek like you were 17 with your crush. you’re all too aware of your inexperience now, unsure with your wild heart. nevertheless, you muster the courage to finally break your trance. so you push on his chest lightly, finally meeting his eyes.

you blink. he’s tall.

the realization makes you swallow nervously. you open your mouth, but like house, nothing quite comes out. your hand still rests on his chest, feeling the rhythm of his pulsing heart. you try again, this time with house. both of your lips fall open, tongue failing again. but his eyes are enough. all you want to do is kiss him, so you lean in and kiss him again.

luckily for you, house always wants to kiss you.

[kokii-omii]

Random fun facts with my Twst ocs pt.2

(yuu edition)

Pt.1

Yuki Shiroi

has 7 older brothers and is the youngest child (often pampered by them)

is a pop idol

wants to become an actress in the future

has a really hard time saying no to people

her mother is her manager so she dictates whatever is on her schedule

desperately wants a boyfriend

surprisingly all the nrc students are nicer to her, well ws nice as they can be (and that's on pretty privilege)

visits pomefiore the most

has had her food poisoned once and it ended with her being in the hospital for a week

the moment before she got taken by the carriage (got run over) she was at a school photoshoot to advertise their play where she was the lead

her understudy was jealous of her and tried to attack her with a box cutter but an upperclassman who walked in stopped her and told Yuki to run away and not look back

as she was running out of school the carriage came in and suddenly she's in Night Raven College

Rin Yutsuka

is a mangaka and fanfic writer

total shut in

she lives with her dad who is usually off on business trips so most of the time she's alone at home

she was a special guest at a convention because her manga was getting serialized

is really good at doing makeup (she cosplays sometimes)

is VERY socially anxious, she stutters a lot when she speaks (she's more confident when in cosplay)

fujoshi

works at sam's shop as one of his assistants, she tells him about what's trending and sometimes does social media marketing for the shop

visits ignihyde often (they have great wifi)

when she found herself in twisted wonderland the first thing she checked was her laptop to see if it survived (it was fine)

she immediately clocked that she got isekaid and tried to cast a spell but got disappointed when she found out she was magicless

was absolutely dying during book 4 (she is not built for the heat)

Yumeko Ibara

is a florist

she lives with her three aunts who run the flower shop

a prince fell in love with her after she helped him hide from his guards, they went out for a month or two before the carriage took her

was almost about to become a princess because the prince was gonna propose

she thought she was dreaming when she first came to twisted wonderland and tried to go back to sleep hoping that would solve the problem

she often talks to the animals in the forest near ramshackle, she thinks she's gone crazy for doing so

the animals often come help with cleaning at ramshackle

visits diasomnia a lot and mostly hangs out with malleus

her golden hair shines in the sunlight

sometimes gets called silver's twin because they're both sleepyheads

[Book 7 Yumeko]

during Lilia's dream the human villagers sometimes mistake her for Queen Leah (she bears a heavy resemblance if it wasn't for her hair)

she's had to wear a hood so uninformed fae dont strike her when they see her golden hair

Meleanor's words were twice as venomous when she was speaking to her (her hair just makes Lilia's dream so much worse for her)

Ryuuko Shibano

She lives alone in an apartment but sometimes babysits her neighbor's kid when she has free time

was literally just walking home from work before she got hit by the carriage

has a TERRIBLE temper

after Crowley explained everything to her she immediately started going at him and possibly filing a case for kidnapping

ramshackle dorm was 60% fixed by the first month she was in there because she made a whole list about the hazardous things that are in the dorm and threatened to sue Crowley for neglect if he didn't fix this thing

after she learned about riddle's home life she told him she would take his mom to court if he asked her to (he said no)

either way riddle is her son now and eats tarts with him on the weekends (and the rest of heartslabyul but its mostly riddle)

once took over heartslabyul for the day when riddle was sick and needed rest (it was like he never left)

was in the military for 3 years

suplexed Leona when he was overblotted

threatened Azul with a lawsuit on mostro lounge once during book 3

has a pet raven that got attached to her after she saved it when it was stuck on the fence (she learned how to communicate with it)

often has tea with malleus with Lilia occasionally joining

malleus is also her son now, she teaches him stuff and scolds him like a mother would do

everyone in diasomnia listens to her orders like they're from malleus himself (since malleus listens to her the rest of them do)

throws things at lilia when he pisses her off

once threw a whole table at him

sometimes partakes in silver and sebek's training and asks lilia to spar with her (no magic ofc)

[book 7 Ryuuko]

often partakes in combat during Lilia's dream

wacked a silver owl on the head with a thick branch and stole their sword

silver gave her a diasomnia uniform so she could move better when she was fighting

when she held malleus's egg, it glowed in response to being held by her

would've literally died for the egg even if she knows it's a dream (those maternal instincts are not helping)

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

maybe next I'll do not so fun facts about all my twst ocs

[1980shorrorfilm]

every road i know

click here!

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie thought it was time to solidify your relationship. she might have been wrong.

before you read…inspired by the strangers, minus the killing n stuff. modern day fic. angst with comfort <3

the autumn night is silent, besides the occasional creak of the old miller’s cabin settling into its nighttime routine. you listen to the wind whistling outside, through the tall pines surrounding the small wooden home. 

it’s a lonely town, the nearest house a few miles down the road, something vastly different from your shared apartment in the city. 

ellie started bringing you here after joel had let it collect endless dust and cobwebs, the woman cleaning it all up for you. whenever life got too busy, chaotic, or hard, this way your getaway. peace. just you and her and the nature that surrounded you.

now, it feels as though it’s purgatory. 

the fireplace flickers softly, its glow dancing on the wooden walls, but the warmth couldn’t seem to comfort you. not right now. ellie sits in front of the flames, her silhouette outlined by the orange gentle light.

she has yet to utter a single word to you. the car ride here was silent. even the radio on mute, because ellie couldn’t find the simple strength to turn it up.

the moment is replaying in her mind, over and over, the sad smile you had given her burned into her memory. the thing she’s had anxiety about for the past month. proposing, to you.

the dark velvet box holding the special ring, now lying on the coffee table beside her. a stark reminder of the event.

you’re sat on the couch, chewing your lip, a rose petal in your hand. it’s soft, you find yourself stroking the smooth flower. they cover, nearly, the whole cabin. ellie had thrown the petals around before you had arrived together, trying to make it appear as romantic as possible. 

it’s not her strong suit, her appreciation toward you shown in much different ways than typical lovey-dovey things you see on television, but tonight it felt right. long candles garnish whatever surface she could put them on, yellow and smelling like vanilla. they’re not lit. 

she assumed she’d spark them when you came back from the long day you had. one that started with your favorite breakfast, ellie waking up extra early to make it as perfect as she could. and she did, you made sure to compliment her repeatedly.

then she took you downtown, viewing places you rarely visited, spending more time admiring you than the other pretty views. what occupied most of your time, was going to a museum she took you to on your first date, reminiscing on how awkward you two were compared to now.

she swears that’s her favorite place, and not just because she’s a nerd, because she now associates it with you. 

ellie had took you out to dinner, to your favorite restaurant, hardly eating and claiming she just wasn’t hungry. that was a lie, she just didn’t think she could keep food down. her nerves were washing over her, multiplying when you had finished, and you took a walk near the river, beneath the red trees that blew softly above you.

you had felt her pause in place, holding her warm hand, and you thought maybe the tie had come undone on her sneakers. she had washed them the day prior until her fingers pruned, you found it odd for ellie but didn’t say anything. but that wasn’t the problem. she stared at you like she saw a ghost, and it worried you.

you almost thought this was the end, she was about to tell you those four dreaded words. we need to break up. oh, the idea terrorizes you. that, however, also wasn’t it.

she had whispered inaudible words to herself, then mumbling ‘okay, okay, okay.’

you thought the woman was breaking before you, concern in your eyes, holding her hand tight. then she gulped, trying to get out the rehearsed words that seemed to vanish the longer she stood in your presence. 

how much you mean to her. from the very moment you two got paired up for a project that she insisted she’d do all the work for, but you fought back, finding yourself in her bedroom the entire week, the girl studying you more than the work laid out before her.

she found herself by your side all the time afterward.

she needed to be by your side. 

she doesn’t know how she lived before you, and if she could live without you— no, insisting she could not live with you. she simply wouldn’t have the will. waking up to a bed you didn’t occupy, not hearing your genuine laughter to her most idiotic jokes, not being able to hold you when you experienced the hardest day of your life.

she couldn’t have that. she needs this…you and her, to last forever. so, she asked those four words that you weren’t prepared for. will you marry me?

to which, you didn’t say yes.

you couldn’t. you love ellie, more than you could ever put into words, you swear on your life that you do, and it didn’t at all reflect your feelings for her. you were just…paralyzed. by fear, uncertainty, and the weight of expectations that you couldn’t hold up to for her. every single insecurity, hitting you at once, in the worst moment it possibly could.

you had said her name in a weak whisper, and ellie gulped, realizing what was happening. a tear slipped from your eye, that she quickly wiped away, reassuring you it was okay. that you’re okay. putting you before her, a habit of hers. bits of her broken heart being blown away in the cool wind that hits you, while she cradles yours. 

you walked to the car together in silence, a suffocating fog. a silence that seemed to last forever.

the tension between you two is almost palpable, both of your minds are currently a whirlwind of heavy emotions. a gentle crackle of the fire and ellie shifting in place, makes you finally turn your attention to her. “ellie,” you say her name softly, voice strained as you finally break the unbearable quiet. “can we talk?”

her gaze remains on the fiery flames, her shoulders tense. “we don’t have to,” she replies quietly, “i get it.”

“i don’t think you do,” you lowly say, heart aching at the mere thought of all the negativity running through her precious head, doubts about herself and your relationship. that’s the last thing you could ever want.

ellie swallows thickly, “it doesn’t matter.”

you watch her get up, turning her back to you as she leaves the room. your eyes trail her to the kitchen before you follow her. she doesn’t glance at you as you lean against the nearby counter, watching her grab an expensive champagne bottle. 

you assume she bought it just for tonight, she wouldn’t drink it any other time. she won’t even touch a glass of wine. she pops it open, pouring it into one of the two glasses beside it. “i don’t…” you begin to say as she hovers over the other glass, ellie nodding in response. you’re afraid if you drink it you’ll throw up all the nerves inside your system. 

“i got your favorite ice cream…if you want that instead,” ellie mentions, tapping her finger on the glass, “went to like…3 different stores. couldn’t find the brand you like.”

she ends the sentence with an attempt at a laugh, finding it so silly now. all the effort, for what? humiliation? pity? she sips on the disgusting drink like it would make her feel better. the only other thing that helps her in trying times, is you; and that’s not exactly possible in this scenario.

“do you…” she pauses, staring at the liquid as she swirls it around, “do you want this…us?”

“of course i do,” you answer her without hesitation, taking a step closer to her, but still out of reach. “it’s not that, ellie,” you tell her, trying to figure out how to inform her it’s you and not her, without sounding like a poor cliche overused excuse. 

“it’s just…we’re young…im scared you’re making a mistake,” your voice wavers near the end, ashamed to admit such a thing, that you are her mistake. ellie looks at you like you just spit in her face. she doesn’t know how to interpret the comment, she slightly feels insulted that you would think that she’s making a ‘mistake.’ 

this isn’t putting a shirt on inside out. this isn’t forgetting to turn the light off when you leave a room. it’s not tripping over your step. it’s her committing herself to you, after five beautiful years attached to you, something she wants hundreds more years of, if that were possible. nothing about that is a mistake.

you’re the love of her life. cementing that is not a fucking mistake. 

“is that how you feel?” she flips the script, putting the spotlight on you, feeling like you’re burning beneath it at the accusation. “what?” you whisper, “n-no…no ellie.”

you can’t read her expression, she’s swallowing the rest of her drink, blankly staring ahead. 

she ignores your response, “i’ll drive us home in the morning. you should get some sleep.”

she turns away, placing her glass carefully in the sink, resting there for a moment. your eyes are boring into the back of her head as if you could read the thoughts inside it. so many bad thoughts. 

you push yourself forward, taking a few quiet steps to her. you plant your feet behind her, wrapping your arms around her body. her breathing is slow, her figure painfully stiff, hugging a tree and not your person. so solid despite the endless embraces where she would melt into you.

you murmur her name, holding her tighter. 

ellie can’t resist you.

her hands reach for yours, resting against the center of her torso. her fingers brush against you softly, her breath hitching slightly, before letting out a sigh she’s held in for hours. 

just for this moment, the tension settles beneath the old floorboards of the cabin, giving you air to breathe instead of holding in. your hug is so tender, ellie could be lured to sleep by it. and her body is so warm, you’d rather die than pull away.

you wish it could last forever, and the hours prior could be forgotten. 

then her phone rings from her back pocket, vibrating against you, and she shifts. you let go, biting your lip, watching her fish the device out. joel. assumingly calling to congratulate her. ellie wishes she never told him, because fuck, this is going to be awkward. 

“i uh…should take this,” she whispers, not sparing you a glance when she walks away. you hear the front door open, then shut. you can’t help but walk back into the living room, standing before the window and peeking at ellie, who sat on the porch steps. 

you can’t see her face, her head down, a glow from a cigarette, and grey smoke surrounding her figure. it’s clearly not a happy conversation, there was no sugarcoating what had happened. it pains you. 

you turn back around, following the rose petals that scattered the floor, all the way down the hall, and stopping at the bathroom. you open the door, turning the light on, eyes falling on the several small candles on the edges of the bathtub. red, grey, and purple, they decorated the space. 

ellie really tried to make tonight special.

you stand idly, taking a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, staring at yourself with shame. a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, knowing it did something so drastic, that the only person they love, finds it hard to look at them. 

you quickly turn away. 

you run the bath and wait, tugging your top and pants off, kicking them to the side. you strip naked when it fills up completely, steam radiating from the water. you step in, adjusting to the high temperature, before sinking into it. it almost burns you, but not in a way that you mind. you just don’t care right now. 

ellie is the only thing on your mind. you wonder if she’s talking about you, openly questioning where your relationship lies, if she thinks it’s even going to last after today. 

before you know it, a single tear is falling down your face.

you hug your knees, turning your head and laying your cheek against them. you stare out the open bathroom door, to the wood paneled wall, a framed photo of a deer hung on it.

you forget to blink, spacing out, not noticing the creaking of the front door or the floor. not until ellie is within your view, pausing in the doorway, looking down at you. you’re crying to yourself.

her expression softens, not saying anything when she joins you, kneeling beside the bathtub and touching your face. her thumbs wipe the salty tears from beneath your eyes, but they don’t stop. 

“i’m scared, ellie,” you say just above a whisper, ellie only hears you because of how quiet the cabin is. besides the repetitive dripping from the sink. “i’m gonna fail you…” you continue, your voice now giving up on you, “scared’m gonna ruin this…ruin us…you’re so good, ellie— i just —i couldn’t say yes.”

you choke into a sob, her green eyes now glistening with unshed tears. “oh baby,” she says so softly, giving you the time to process your emotions, to let the tears fall while she holds you. 

“i can’t…” she stops, gulping and sighing, “i can’t change what you think…but i can promise you that nothing could ever change my mind about you.”

her grip on you is firm, reaffirming, as she continues to speak, “we can wait…i’m willing to wait forever for you. i will show you no matter what happens, i will still love you— i will always love you. i just needed…need you to know that.”

very faintly, your lips twitch upwards slightly, ellie mirroring you the moment she notices. “you’re enough for me,” she says, “just you. that’s all i want.”

ellie is, unfortunately, right; it doesn’t change the tainted mindset you have. that, however, has nothing to do with her. you don’t doubt the things she tells you, you’ve never felt more love from someone in your whole life, and you know for a fact that you never will.

and that’s why it brings you relief, to listen to her, understanding her point of view rather than your own, and the cruel demon on your shoulder whispering harsh words into your ear. 

ellie williams is the angel. 

it’s not the first time she’s eased the anxiety taunting you, and it will not be the last. she will always be there, rain or shine, you pushing her away or letting her in. she truly means what she says. you’re enough for her. and soon, you will accept that for yourself.

“i really want to hug you right now.”

ellie chuckles, a lightness in the air as she gets up, grabbing a beige towel. you stand, letting her wrap it around you, shivering at the coolness in the air. not caring about the water droplets still coating your body, ellie’s arms are quickly around you, her palm on the back of your head, cradling it gently.

you instantly feel warm again, at peace.

after the moment of serenity ends, ellie is leading you to the bedroom. she grabs your pajamas from your still-packed bag, letting you put them on while she does the same. your eyes fall on her pale back, watching her throw a white tee on, looking away when she turns her head at you. 

“was thinking about leaving at 8…wanna beat the traffic,” she says, hoping the statement doesn’t go back to making things awkward. just in case, she adds, “can stop at that pancake place you love.”

you can’t ignore the glum undertones of the suggestion, but you still give her a smile, barely modding your head.

you sit in bed, ellie exiting the room to turn off every light in the lonely cabin, leaving you with your thoughts. you hate it. thinking about how happy the two of you were coming here, compared to you leaving. you don’t even want to leave. you want to shut out the rest of the world, but more importantly, your mind.

how differently things would be right now, if you could just do that.

your eyes meet hers when she enters the room again, and you debate what you’re about to ask her. you can’t help it. “can i see it?”

“hm?” “the ring.”

ellie looks at you, freezing for a moment, stuttering, “y-yea…sure.”

again, she exits the room, grabbing the velvet small box on the table, the one she avoided even sparing a glance at just a minute ago. then she jogs back, scratching the back of her neck. she’s nervous as she approaches you, placing it in your open hands, like it’s a baby. 

it’s the first time you’re getting a decent look at it, having been unable to observe it during the moment, and it’s beautiful. it’s simple, yet the green sapphire is so elegant, resembling the way ellie’s eyes look beneath the sun. you smile at it. 

“i…can’t return it…if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“i’m not,” you tell her, “it’s gorgeous, ellie.”

you don’t want to give it back to her. it feels…so right, in your possession, that you can’t help but nervously slide it down your finger. there’s a bittersweet smile on your face at how perfect it is. how when you look at it, ellie is the first thing to come to your mind. 

your lover, for eternity. your lover that swears to you, that your need for her is as mutual as her need for you, no matter the circumstances, it is permanent. that your worries are just that. worries— self-doubt, and bitter thoughts about yourself, that are only present in the moment. they won't last forever. not like you and her.

with hesitance, you take it off, avoiding her gaze when you give it back to her. “i’ll be ready,” you promise, your finger oddly feeling so lonely despite only wearing it for a minute. “i will…i will be,” you find yourself mumbling, ellie getting closer and grabbing your hands.

“hey, i meant what i said,” her thumbs stroke your skin, reminding you once more, “i can wait forever for you.”

and she means it.

[floraisunwell]

Invisible string | s.r

who: spencer reid x fem!reader

category: fluff (??)

summary: you've always loved reading at your spot in the park, getting lost in books and daydreams. what you didn't realize was that someone had been noticing you all along

lyric prompt: “green was the color of the grass where I used to read at Centennial Park, I used to think I would meet somebody there/ time, curious time, gave me no compass, gave me no signs. Were there clues I didn’t see? and isn’t it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?” Invisible string, t.s

word count: 1.1k

a/n: my entry to @mggslover 1k event, congratulations once again darling

t.w: none

divider by @esote-rika

The park had always been your favorite place in the whole city—a patch of green and calm right in the middle of the metropolis' restless buzz. Exactly what you needed after a long day. Alone, but surrounded by people; that weird in-between your introverted personality had always loved.

Beneath your favorite tree, you'd lay out a towel, open a book, and let yourself slip away. Between the pages, you'd been a poet, a painter, an elderly woman reminiscing on her youth—someone's lover, even.

And sometimes, in the spaces between sentences, you'd let yourself dream. You'd imagine meeting someone, falling stupidly, hopelessly in love—just like in your favorite romances.

You knew it was silly, highly unlikely, but the thought alone was enough to make you smile. Enough to fill you with a quiet kind of hope.

And then, as if crafted by destiny, you did meet someone.

☆

Near-Miss #1: The Coffee Shop

The first time Spencer saw you, it wasn’t at the park. It was at a coffee shop, long before he ever noticed you beneath that tree. He hadn’t even been paying attention at first, too busy watching the barista prepare his drink. But then he saw you—leaning against the counter, absently tracing circles on its surface while periodically checking your watch. Something so ordinary, so insignificant, yet he couldn’t look away. He thought about getting closer, maybe striking up a conversation. But by the time he worked up the nerve, you were already walking out the door.

☆

Lucas was a lovely guy. You met on a rainy day—"Mind if I help?" he had said, noticing how you were struggling to juggle your things and an umbrella at the same time. He ended up with your number, and soon, the tree that used to be your spot became your shared spot.

☆

Near-Miss #2: the train ride

A familiar giggle caught Spencer’s attention. He looked up and saw you.

Curled up by the window, book in hand—as always. He watched as you absentmindedly twirled your hair, scribbled something in the margins of your book, let out the occasional quiet laugh. It was just like all the other times he’d seen you, and yet, he was still mesmerized.

The thought of approaching you crossed his mind. Maybe he could finally say something, maybe this time—

The train jolted to a stop. You stood, tucked your book under your arm, and stepped off the train before he could find the words.

☆

Picnics, reading sessions, coffee breaks, cloud-watching—beautiful moments. But now it was Valentine’s, and you were alone at your spot. Turns out Lucas wasn't the one after all.

For the first time, you sat under the tree alone, thinking about all the little moments that, maybe, had been clues.

The way he never understood your love for books. The fact that he never got your bakery order right—"It’s too complex, and you know that, babe." You’d chuckle, brush it off, but it unsettled you.

You knew it was dramatic. Of course, he wouldn’t be like the men in your books. He was good enough. But something was missing.

A sickly kind of romance filled the air—people of all ages showing their love for each other. You were sure you’d witnessed a failed proposal a few minutes ago. Amid all this love (and some heartbreak), you felt invisible.

But maybe you weren’t.

☆

Near-Miss #3: the collision (and almost first conversation)

Spencer had walked past you countless times. A hundred, maybe more. But one time, he almost spoke to you.

You were heading in opposite directions. You looked hurried, eyes glued to your book even as you walked. He was distracted too, skimming a page of his own. And for a moment, just a split second, you almost collided.

At the last second, both of you stepped aside. Hushed apologies, barely more than whispers, before you kept walking.

He took a few more steps before his brain finally caught up and registered who you were. He stopped in his tracks, only to turn around just in time to see you disappear into the crowd.

He cursed himself for losing another opportunity.

☆

Spencer loved the park, too.

He came to play chess, to read, to watch people—not in a creepy way, just something he enjoyed. You had always been one of his favorites to watch.

He loved how you’d giggle at a line in your book and then glance around to see if anyone had noticed. How you’d twirl your hair when you were deep in thought. How you looked so utterly lost in your stories, as if the world around you didn’t exist.

☆

But now, it was Valentine’s, and the young man who usually accompanied you was nowhere to be seen.

His chance.

"Can I sit here?" His voice startled you. You looked up to see a tall, slender man watching you.

"Uh... sure," you replied, still a little confused.

"Why are you alone?" Fuck. That probably sounded weird.

You huffed a small laugh. "Well, not anymore." He smiled at that, a little softer now.

"I'm Spencer, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Spencer. I guess now you're my partner for the day."

"I guess," he echoed, his smile was so wide it could seem fake

☆

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Spencer looked at your book and said "You were reading a book by the same author on the train a few months ago"

"Was I really?" you blinked

"You were," he affirmed "I was in the seat across from you. We sat across each other many times in fact"

"I guess we were bound to meet sometime then" you mused meeting his gaze

"Yeah," he mumbled with a smile"Something like that"

thank you for reading!

[butteronabun]

diluc + EXES EXES EXES PLEASE (HIIII butter on a bun ^_^ i will Enable you because i have a playlist for him dedicated to this shit) + canon/modern au, etc — pick whatever YOU were thinking writing the request post + spin the wheel and pick a genre~ again, this request is an excuse to hear YOUR thoughts (i have some of my own)

extra: pick whether you want it to be she/her or g/n~ i’m fine with both 🫶

sincerely, 🥩 (who missed you and hasn’t caught up with recent posts bc i was busy </3)

wish that i had more of this borrowed time

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader exes au.

overview: diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

wc: 3.2k

notes: originally this was 5k words but that was so much & i didn’t want to complicate this more so TAKE IT 😙 this is also a bit open-ended so feel free to interpret this however you like!! also, additional notes will be in the end, so better check that out too :)

“You’re going to break that glass, Master Diluc,” remarks Kaeya Alberich himself, who is this close to purchasing popcorn to watch the ‘drama’ that he has been observing for a while now. Weinlesefest truly has its wonders – fresh wine, good company, and a brother who definitely still isn’t over his ex, even if said brother continues to deny it. “You look under the weather. Why not take a breather and enjoy the sights? You have a loyal staff that’s willing to oversee the Angel’s Share stand for a while.”

Diluc’s cold, unwavering glare remains on that face of his. Kaeya’s almost certain that comparing his ice from his cryo vision with Diluc’s expression will have no difference at all. “I am doing fine, Master Kaeya.” He looks down at the glass he has wiped for—Kaeya guesses—the fifth time now, and picks up another one. 

“Really? But it’s becoming a little hot, Master Diluc. I’ve noticed that as the minutes pass by, the temperature of the stand has been concerningly rising as of late. Are you secretly heating up some tasty bar snacks, or is it something else?”

Kaeya suppresses a smirk when the warmth around them subdues momentarily. He has one theory that he’s sure is actually true—a theory where that ‘heat’ is coming from, and it’s definitely not the wind. 

It’s the ninth month of the calendar. Summer’s already over. So it’s safe to say that. . .

“Don’t you have other matters to tend to?” Diluc narrows his eyes at him. Oh, changing the subject now, aren’t we? “Surely, Cavalry Captains still have to scout the area for any potential threats during Weinlesefest, or have the knights really gone incompetent?”

“Oh, you. Everyone deserves to enjoy the festival every once in a while,” Kaeya raises his keg playfully. “And that includes even you.”

Diluc just grumbles at that. Still stubborn as always, but Kaeya remembers the day when the traveler told him a few years ago that Diluc, despite isolating himself during the previous festivals, reveled. (Reveled on his own, was what they clarified.) It’s a comforting thought that even such a busy man as himself can still enjoy these moments.

And Kaeya wishes he’d see it more. 

Diluc willingly taking charge of the Angel Share’s stand instead of Charles? How endearing. Is it really because he’s here for the celebration, or something else? 

(Kaeya—and he’s pretty sure, Diluc is, too—hears nearby footsteps. Familiar voices.)

Or someone else?

Whatever it is, Kaeya is fine with either. 

“Still baffles me that my suggested proposals got rejected— ah, we’re here. Oh, hi, Kaeya!” 

Kaeya sips his beer and smiles at you. “Hey.” And he watches it all unfold again. You smile back at him, before slowly turning to Diluc, who has never taken his eyes off of you ever since your arrival. 

You hide a lock of your hair behind your ear timidly. “Hi, Diluc.”

It’s really fascinating to see his brother still so soft with you. People may not notice this, but Kaeya knows Diluc best. “Good evening. What would you like tonight?”

“Ah – my company here—” you turn to the man beside you, a fellow colleague perhaps, and Kaeya seriously has to control himself from smirking. The area’s heating up again. “—would like to try some of the Fruits of the Festival that we’ve been hearing of. Is it still available?”

Diluc nods. “Yours?”

“I don’t want anything, actually—”

“Please, don’t do that,” The man calls out your name, and steps forward. The warmth’s growing. “If you think that you’re treating me tonight, then I’ll be treating you as well. Bartender, I’ll be ordering Wolfhook Juice for this lovely lady.”

The man winks at you, confident with himself, until Diluc breaks the flair by simply saying, “She’s allergic to that.”

Ah, this is great. Kaeya’s considering if he should bring Rosaria or even Lisa along for the drama. 

“W–wait, really? You’re allergic to Wolfhook?”

“Ah, D–Diluc—” As much as Kaeya relishes in dear Diluc’s jealousy, your expressions are also just as priceless. Speechless that his amazing brother still has one detail about you memorized? Pfft. Such is a man of great talent who has a knack for processing knowledge in such a short time. He’s a businessman, after all. It’s important to know a lot of things. “You still remember that?”

Diluc doesn’t reply to that question. Instead, he goes on preparing the drink with ease and in silence. Kaeya can feel the awkwardness in the air as they watch Diluc swiftly mix the ingredients, and the man accompanying you merely coughs to dissipate the tension.

“So, um,” The man starts, “I’ve heard that Starsnatch Cliff looks beautiful at this time of night. I was wondering if you’d like to stargaze with me?”

You seem sheepish. “Oh, I—”

There’s a loud thud, surprising everyone, except for Kaeya and Diluc themselves. Diluc has placed the glass in front of the man, face emotionless. “It’s late. Dangerous, even. I recommend that you postpone such a journey.” 

Kaeya hides his smile behind his keg. Oh, Diluc. Could you get even more obvious? He wishes to voice out that poor Klee and the other children might get scared because of his ‘grumpy face’ again, but it is late and they’re not here anymore, so it isn’t a valid reason to mention. 

Oh, the area’s hotter now. The man is visibly sweating under the intimidating man’s stare. “A–Ah, I see- t–thank you for that then, good sir—”

“Diluc, don’t scare him,” you scold him lightly, and take the glass. “And we’ll be fine, I have a vision.”

His stupid brother’s about to protest, and Kaeya readies himself for another session of ‘Diluc Facepalming Himself Because He Made A Fool of Himself In Front of his Ex’ when you add on:

“Though, Diluc’s right. It’s dangerous to go out right now since I’ve heard from the outriders that the concentration of hilichurl camps around that area is growing in size again. So we shouldn’t go.” You give the man his drink, and gesture him to an empty table. “And didn’t you tell me you’re tired already? Why not sit down for a while?”

Once you two are seated on a table that’s too far for Diluc’s liking, Kaeya sighs and shakes his head. Diluc glowers at him. “What?”

“Attentive as ever.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Diluc says as he crosses his arms.

“The least thing you could do is be attentive to her well–being, even though you’re not her lover anymore?” The temperature intensifies. Oops. Kaeya stepped on something he shouldn’t. But it’s always so fun to get on Diluc’s nerves. “Admit it, you still haven’t moved on.”

Diluc then retorts, “Is it so bad to care for an old friend?” “So that’s what you call her now?”

“Kaeya,” Diluc warns.

“Diluc~” Kaeya pleasantly sings. Then, his lips part into an ‘o.’ “My, I smell something burning. Are you really cooking something up?”

Kaeya doesn’t bat an eyelash on the slightly scorched bartop.

_

Diluc’s heart is his greatest foe.

He has too much love in his heart, and oftentimes, it causes him great anguish. 

He wanted to rip his heart out the night his father passed on. He wanted to stomp on it after causing Kaeya harm. 

And he wanted to abandon it, just like how you did.

“Let’s end this,” you told him one dinner, with your head dipped down, not wanting to meet his eyes. You trembled as you anticipated his response, but you didn’t get one. Diluc was left aghast. “This isn’t working for the both of us, Diluc.”

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr who dedicated his time to protecting the city and thwarting the enemies that threatened his nation. Such is the fate of a Ragnvindr who occupied himself with the winery’s business ventures. 

Such was the fate of a Ragnvindr, who, despite having a big heart, had failed his lover. 

He wanted to say—maybe we could try again. I will be better this time. He knew he could solve this, if he could think of strategies to counterattack the abyss, or even keep his competitors on their toes with his new business plans, surely, he could remedy this. 

“I have too much on my plate. You have too much on yours. Let us end this before we affect each other.”

When your tears cascaded down your cheeks, Diluc wanted to wipe them away. But he couldn’t even move. Not even an inch. How could he, when his heart was being shattered to pieces? 

You had too much on your plate? Why didn’t you say anything? You know he’d always be here for you.

So why?

He wanted to say — then let’s face them together.

But you had other plans.

It was over. 

And he understood.

_

“How fortunate that our dear cutie decided to visit this year’s Weinlesefest,” Lisa says as she touches the petals of the cecilias. She’s here in Diluc’s garden. Lisa, for some reason, has the tendency to make unannounced visits. She smiles up at Diluc who’s observing her from the gazebo. “Don’t you feel the same way too, Diluc? That she’s here again, after almost two and a half years.”

Diluc crosses his arms. “I fail to understand why I’d have to voice out my opinions on the matter.”

“Ah, but didn’t you say something to Kaeya? Supposedly, shouldn’t you be happy that an ‘old friend’ came back?”

Diluc averts his gaze, and Lisa smiles even wider before tending back to the flowers.

“She favors these, don't they? Cecilia flowers.” Lisa sniffs one. This one smells very fresh. It’s as if all the flowers here are greatly taken care of. “Oh, this takes me back. I still recall how you and her first met. You two were so adorable! She used to chase you around, desperate for your attention. And despite your attempts to push her away, she still managed to win you over. Her blushing face was the absolute best when you gifted her a bouquet of cecilias. Really, who knew that you could get so romantic?”

Lisa lifts her head and fixates on the clouds. “She’s your first love, right? And you treasured her so.” She checks to see if Diluc’s still there, and he is. 

He’s still sulking like the baby he is.

“Diluc?”

Lisa can hear him murmur, but it’s not too audible for her ears to pick up. “I beg your pardon?”

“. . .her favorite.”

Lisa tilts her head. “Favorite?” 

“Cecilia flowers.” Diluc says. “They’re not her favorite.”

“Oh, my. So what’s her favorite, then?”

Diluc is reluctant. But he answers anyway. “Small lamp grass flowers.”

Oh, Lisa knows.

She just wanted to hear him say it.

_

No one knows how much Diluc has struggled during the first months of your breakup with him. 

He got moody, at times. Even slept in too much, which was surprising, because he wasn’t the type of person to sleep, not at all, when he had errands to run. He was a business owner by day, and a vigilante by night—he shouldn’t coop himself up inside his quarters all the time just to let his broken heart weep.

So even if those days, those weeks, those months, were nothing but unimaginable suffering – Diluc had to rise. Someone still had to face the darkness for the dawn.

The overseeing of the winery and the scouting of adversaries were great distractions to someone like him.

But he couldn’t deny the fact that whenever he was resting, or even had one moment of leisure, those thoughts canw creeping in. How were you? Where were you? Are you faring well? Do you still yearn for him, as much as he yearns for you?

Are you as ruined as he is?

Diluc didn’t expect that breakups could get this hard. He thought the drunkards in his taverns were over exaggerating it a bit too much because of the alcohol, but now, he could understand.

( He didn’t resort to alcoholism, though. )

He really tried to get over you. He really did. He really tried to forget. 

But how could he, when he cherished you so?

How could he, when his heart continuously ached for you? How could he, when he longed for you desperately after you left Mondstadt.

_

( ”There are plenty of fish in the sea. There are lots of daughters from various nations wanting to be your wife! Why not choose any of them, to fill that hole in your chest?”

The last time a patron told Master Diluc those exact words, he nearly banished them from his tavern. )

_

Moving on was not an option here, it seemed, when everything reminded Diluc of you. 

He saw you everywhere. You liked talking a lot, and he liked listening to you, even before you two were dating. Every experience, every anecdote, every musing, and every vent — he remembered it all. 

Diluc knew what type of coffee you liked. At first, you weren’t such a big fan of them, but you found one that suited your taste. ( “Just one cup is enough, though. Two or more will make me palpitate!” ) Pepperoni became your favorite pizza topping when you ate with Jean when she invited you for lunch out of gratitude. ( “Cheesy spinach is a close second!” ) You liked reading books and seemed to get lost in them a lot; you even excitedly discussed your reviews to him of the novels or pieces of information you’ve read. ( “Like can you believe it?! He had a twin brother all along!” or “Now I understand why you have such a big chair in your office! It’s because it signifies your status! ” )

You were so endearing. Diluc really, really loved every bit of you and made sure to give you the love that you deserved. He tried his best as he could to provide you with the affection that you needed.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

Because if it did, Diluc would still be here at his dining table, reading his documents and sipping coffee with you. If it did, you’d still offer Diluc one slice of pepperoni or cheesy spinach pizza after your lunch with Jean. If it did, you would still bother him underneath the sheets until late hours into the night regarding the mundane and the interesting.

Move on, they said. They were all growing concerned.

Move on, a rational part of him also said. It was for his own good.

But he had always been stubborn.

_

( 

“Master Diluc’s single?! Again?”

“The most eligible bachelor’s throne is his once more.”

“Back off, even if the Master’s single, he won’t give you no heed. Just give up.”

“Come on, support me a little! I just want to give him a good time. Don’t you think I have a chance?”

“Not one bit, lass. Not one bit.” )

_

Weinlesefest is in full swing—

“Yet here you are, moping.” A green bard sits on the pier beside Diluc, who’s currently throwing rocks onto the surface of the water. “Master Diluc, shouldn’t you be out there and celebrate? Or did you choose to stay here because you haven’t scored a date?”

Diluc narrows his eyes at him curtly, before throwing another stone into the water. 

“A silent treatment for me, I see,” The bard strings his lyre, “But I have no worry, for you’ll answer me eventually.”

Diluc sighs. “She’s occupied as of the moment.”

“Oh~? I see that the tables have turned, then?”

Diluc scoffs. Of course he also knows about what had happened before. “Really. What’s your purpose for being here? And stop with your rhyming. It’s annoying me.”

The bard snickers. Stroke a chord it seems. “It’s the second to the last day of this festive event, and I’ve yet to see you participate. Minus the fact of taking care of the Angel Share’s stall, but you must at least do something that’s not related to work.”

“It’s in my blood to dedicate myself when it comes to work.” Diluc throws another stone. “I have no other choice, Venti.”

“Yet here you are, skipping stones?”

“Here I am, skipping stones.”

The bard sighs sadly. As he kicks his legs back and forth, he says - “Do you remember the Thousand-Wind Wine Razor made with the Traveler?”

“Of course. The barrel they used belongs to my winery.”

There’s another silence. Then Venti speaks again. “The wind is many things, you know. It can bring back the soul, and especially, preserve memories—you know of the fact that dandelion seeds are added last as a way of capturing the wind at the very moment when the barrel is sealed. Meaning, the memory of that ‘moment’ is stored in the wine, for all eternity.”

“And your point is?”

“Let yourself be happy this once.”

_

After the citizens of Mondstadt welcomed the Anemo God, they all felt the gentle breeze kissing their skin as he graciously made himself present into the wind. The children cheered, and the adults raised their cups for a toast. Everyone was having a splendid time.

“To the Anemo Archon!”

You, however, have just finished preparing for your departure back to Sumeru. After packing your belongings and making sure you didn’t leave anything in the inn, you had to go find your companion — who’s still probably busy trying out new drinks. 

You sigh at that, a little amused. You also resign to this fate. The journey to Sumeru will have to wait until later. Plus, you haven’t even properly said your goodbyes to the others, so, there’s that. 

A polite cough echoes behind you. You turn around, and your heart flutters at the sight of a familiar man. Diluc.

“May I request a bit of your time?” He asks, always so gently.

You’re pleased and surprised, of course - because it’s Diluc. Diluc, who’s obviously seeking you, even if he’s made clear that he’s occupied with duties of the winery. 

You want to humor him a little bit, so you snicker. “But what if I don’t want to?” You gesture to your satchel. “I’m preparing for my departure, you see.”

Diluc already knows that, doesn’t he? He doesn’t even react. “If that’s the case, then I respect your decision.”

Oh, that’s a bit disappointing. You kind of want to slap yourself for that. You should’ve just accepted Diluc’s request instead of pulling stuff like this. Why play hard to get, when Diluc’s already—

“But I beg of you,” Diluc adds, and you blink. There’s determination in his eyes, and your heart skips a beat when you notice that there’s also something else. “Before you leave. . . please, spend time with me. All it takes is just a short moment with you, and I’ll be content. I won’t ask for anything more.”

—making initiative, huh.

How can you say no to that?

You smile at him—a little bit too tenderly. “Alright then, Diluc.” You lift a hand, gesturing for him to take it. “Lead the way.”

supposedly this was seriously longer, it had more plot ( i indulged on this way too much when i was writing this but had to omit a lot of stuff because i was getting overboard + wanted to more focus on how diluc interacts with his ex / what he feels about his ex / what he felt without his ex asfghjfk also, here's one screenshot before i deleted this part; i wasn't rlly kidding that it had more substance and it was originally angsty:

anw. shoutout to my bestie who brainstormed with me abt ex diluc hcs it was so fun. lemme share to y'all what we talked abt: 1) we thought that diluc is the type of person who’d date to marry, 2) his heart is so so freaking loyal he'd still pine for his first love, and 3) he falls hard and is stupidly sentimental plus. if he did have an ex, the breakup will def bother / ruin / devastate him, especially when he loved that person sm :(

[maskedauthor]

𝐅𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐌𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭- 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

GIF BY @Romanreigns

Female reader X Roman Reigns

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Roman sat anxiously before his interview, knowing the recent changes in his personal and professional life would be hard to avoid. With Paul Heyman by his side, he focused on the press conference’s main topic, Raw’s move to Netflix. That was until a question about Y/N brought back emotions he had been trying to suppress. Meanwhile, Y/N wrestled with lingering feelings and professional uncertainty after seeing Roman’s reaction to the press conference questions go viral. When their boss pressured them for a decision on their storyline, Y/N reached out to Roman, leading to an overdue conversation about their future—both in and out of the ring.

AN: First real writing after being on a long hiatus, but hi.

Roman anxiously waited at the panelboard. All of the questions that the interviewers could ask ran through his mind like a car in a high-speed chase. He almost never was nervous, but he knew this interview was different. After 1 year, Roman and you had called it quits on your relationship; it was clearly reflected at work. Fans noticed that the storyline the two of you shared had died down and there was almost no mention of your name, but Roman knew what was best for business. So, the two of you did not confirm or deny the ending of your relationship. Roman had to pretend like everything was okay, but because the break-up was fairly recent, he requested some space in the workplace.

In an instant, the interview started and it felt like all of Romans thoughts crashed into each other. With his mind jumbled everywhere, the feeling of anxiety and excitement ran through Roman’s veins, creating a paralyzing cocktail of emotions. Paul Heyman, who sat beside Roman, leaned over, whispering in Romans ear, “Don’t worry. Any mention of Y/N, just sit back and let me take over.” Roman nodded in agreement.

The questions started and Roman seemed to ease into the momentum. Afterall, this whole press conference was about bringing Raw to Netflix. So, he decided to focus on that.

40-minutes in and there was no sign of your name. A wave of relief covered Roman. As he settled into his seat, a lady came up to the microphone and flashed him a smile before proposing her question, “Now that Raw’s fate has been determined and its new home is on Netflix, will there be a revival in you and Y/N on the show? Fans are impatiently waiting.”

The question sent Romans heart to his stomach. He gulped, a blank look on his face before he looked over at Paul. Like always, Paul was able to flawlessly redirect this question to solely focusing on Roman. With finesse, he stated, “Ah, what a compelling question! But you see, Roman Reigns isn’t just a moment in time—he’s a constantly evolving force, the biggest attraction in sports entertainment today. As for what the future holds? Well, much like Raw’s groundbreaking move to Netflix, the WWE Universe will just have to stay tuned… because anything can happen.” With that, Paul flashed a knowing grin, effectively leaving the door open without confirming, or denying, a thing.

Roman desperately wanted to thank Paul, but had to stay in character. Paul saw the anxiety brewing in Roman again. So, he decided to end the interviews early.

“And with that, ladies and gentlemen, you have been graced with the presence of greatness. The Tribal Chief has given you his time, his insight, and his undeniable star power. But as they say in show business—always leave them wanting more. So, on behalf of Roman Reigns and the entire WWE, we thank you… and we’ll see you when the next chapter begins. Good night” Paul flashed a final smirk, gesturing toward Roman, standing up, and leading the way out— the room was left buzzing with speculation and excitement.

The next day, you kept seeing clips of Roman answering the lady’s question. Well, more like his reaction to it. The clip kept playing through your mind on a loop. It started making you question yourself. Do you cave and call Roman? Do you give the fans what they want? The confusion began to overwhelm you. The breakup wasn’t bad, but it still left you wondering what-if. What-if Roman knew what he wanted? What if you knew what you wanted? You’d still have him– the communication was the worst between you two. The constant stream of what-if’s were streaming through your mind, leaving you unable to navigate your own feelings. Just then, your phone rings.

You pick up your phone, looking down at the caller ID to see it be none other than Paul Levesque. You sighed before picking up the phone call. In a cheery tone, you spoke, “Hello? How are you?” You smiled, even though you knew he could not see you through the phone. It was the boss, there was no way you could let him in on the inner-turmoil you were facing.

“Hey, Y/N. I hate to call about this, but I know you had to see the press conference last night. Firstly, I’d just like to ask how you're doing.” His tone was calm, almost too calm.

“I am doing good, thank you. I did get to see the press conference last night. Everyone did an amazing job leaving the anticipation building for our Netflix debut.” You responded, trying to avoid the obvious.

“They did. I can’t wait to see everyone excel. I don’t want to bring this up, but being that you and Roman have one of our biggest storylines, I need to ask. Have you and him decided on what you’re going to do with this storyline? The fans are dying to know and I honestly wanted to give you two the time to discuss before we got right back into it– given everything that happened.” He finally spit it out. The thing everyone has been wanting to know– including yourself.

“Honestly, Paul, I don’t have an answer for you right now. I know, I am sorry. I need to talk to Roman to see if we could even go back to being cordial before resuming the storyline.” You hesitated on an answer, but decided honesty was the best way to go.

“Y/N, we do not have that much time. Please, let me know by the end of the week what we are doing. We can’t keep acting like you and Roman have forgotten about each other. The fans are already speculating and we don’t need anything being leaked to the press. Decide and let me know.” He ended the call firmly, almost leaving you to wonder if he was mad at you. The thought of Roman and you not knowing what you both wanted made you feel discombobulated; if you both didn’t know what you wanted during the relationship, how would you two decide how to carry on?

Without even putting the phone down, you swallowed your pride and called Roman. “It is for the business,” you told yourself. The phone rang twice before a familiar voice answered with a, “Hello?”

Two rings was all it took to hear his voice again? You’d think he’d be busier– too busy for you, at least. You cut off your own thoughts in an effort to respond before leaving him high and dry, “Roman, I am sorry to call you so randomly…” You said, which was odd because you used to be with him all the time… “is there anyway we could discuss our storyline?” You asked.

“Of course, Y/N. Meet at my hotel in an hour?” Your real name rolling off of his tongue felt so foreign; it was something you hadn’t heard in a long time. Part of you debated meeting him at his hotel, but the other part of you needed and desperately wanted to see him.

After an hour, you found yourself at Romans hotel room. You could hear him shuffling around inside the room, but your heartbeat started overpowering any sounds. You brought your hand to his door, deciding on whether or not you should even knock. You told yourself again, “this is for the business.”

You knocked before anxiously waiting o Roman to open the door. The door finally swung open after what felt like forever, revealing his tall frame in the doorway. He smiled, you naturally responded back by smiling. He gestured for you to come in and you did. For a couple of seconds, you could feel the awkwardness, but you settled once you sat on his bed.

“Did you get the call too?” He broke the silence, a light chuckle escaping past his lips.

“Yeah. We need to figure out what we are going to do. I don’t want to ruin what we have going on at work, but I don’t know.” You responded, words pouring out of your mouth without you expecting them to.

He nodded before sitting beside you. “You're right. I mean, the fans love us, but I don’t know. Do we call it quits on everything we worked so hard for? I mean, your title reign came from this. My feud with Seth reignited because of this.” he spoke.

“I know,” You cut him off. “But what happens if we keep doing this? I mean, with us…” You didn’t want to bring the past back up, but it was a constant thought in your mind.

“I mean, we were friends before this, right? If you feel uncomfortable carrying on the storyline, then we won’t, but I think we could both agree that the success we have gained from us being together has brought us places we didn’t see ourselves before. I never would have thought I’d get to be in the ring with Seth again. You never thought you’d win the women's championship so fast, but here we are.” He said, nothing but truth coming from his mouth. Although you always knew your potential, the romance that yu and Roman shared with the WWE universe helped you and him both reach new places fast.

So, with that in mind, you agreed…

PART 2 SOON.

[holylulusworld]

Indecent Proposal (1)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Rating: Mature

Square filled for @stuckybingo Round 5: free space - mafia au

Square filled for @anyfandomgoesbingo: Free Space

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, mentions of illegal activities/mafia business/murder, strong reader, mentions of breeding/surrogate, wish for children, shady deals, shitty boyfriend, reader doesn't take shit from no one, tension, sexy mobsters

Words: 1,5k

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Babe, how do I look?” Your boyfriend asks, almost stumbling over his words as the men he was hoping to meet at the fancy party walk inside the room. 

Well, they don’t walk like normal people. They are stepping inside the room, stopping in their tracks to look at the people in the room. It looks like the crowd parts like the Red Sea to form a path only for them.

Steven Grant Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. – Two names you must know if you ever heard of New York City and its mob.

They are as good-looking as they are dangerous. A deadly combination of beauty and the beast hidden behind blue eyes.

If you don’t want to end up six feet under, you don’t mess with them. Or even look their way too long.

“Did you put on the underwear I told you to?” 

“What has this to do with the party?” You sigh, as you still don’t know why Scott brought you here.

You’ve been dating for a few months, and you had hoped that tonight, he’d do more than the bare minimum. He’s not a bad guy, but an awful partner.

A criminal too. Not a criminal mastermind, but you already figured out that the small business he runs is far from legal.

“It’s important, babe,” you roll your eyes at the awful pet name. You hate it and told him so before. “Okay, don’t say anything stupid. Or, just look pretty and don’t say anything at all.”

“What?” Now you square your jaw. You don’t understand what has gotten into Scott until you lift your eyes off him to meet two pairs of blue ones. “Oh…”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes,” Scott looks pathetic when he bows for the heads of the mob in town. “I’m honored to meet you again. Thank you for having me.”

The men ignore Scott and his offered hand. Instead, they look at you. Steve almost shoves your boyfriend aside as he holds out his hand to take yours.

“I see you followed our invitation,” he lowers himself to press a kiss to the back of your hand. You shiver. He seems so polite, and kind. But behind his blue eyes, you can see the beast wanting to break free.

“Stevie don’t scare her off right away,” you are a little overwhelmed when James Barnes turns his attention toward you. He takes your other hand and kisses your knuckles, glancing at your ring finger. “No ring, doll? He didn’t ask you to be his forever?”

“No-“ You’re usually not shy, or meek. But these men crowd you like prey and have their hands on you. You know they are in a relationship, but right now, they look at you as if you are their latest meal. “We’re only dating for a few months.”

“A shame,” Steve cups your chin, making you whimper. You never felt like this before. Confused and aroused at the same time. These men are strangers, but oddly you feel safe in their presence. “What do you say? Shall we lead this to a more private area?”

You don’t know why they are interested in leading you and your boyfriend to a private area, but this can’t be good. People like them never have good intentions, and you assume Steve and Bucky are no exception.

“I’m good here…I mean. You should enjoy your party. Don’t you have to greet all the people you invited?” You nervously babble. 

“Doll, they don’t care if we greet them or not. They are only here to show respect to us,” Bucky runs his index finger up your arm. He smirks as you involuntarily shudder at his touch. “Let’s lead this to our office.”

“Scott,” you dip your head to glance at your boyfriend. He looks up at Steve as if the man is carrying a halo on top of his head. “Scott!”

“Babe don’t be rude. We should follow them to the office,” your boyfriend is no help. He’s wringing his hands while staring at Steve Rogers. God, he’s such a pathetic little boy. You just see it now when you watch him interact with two real men.

“Fine,” you snap at Scott if only to end his pathetic act. “Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes, please lead the way.” 

“Do you want a drink or a canapé doll? We can ask the maid to get you something you’ll like,” Bucky sits next to you on the couch, one hand running up and down his thigh, the other creeping toward your thigh. He brushes his metal finger over your exposed skin, barely listening to what his partner has to say.

“Buck, did you listen?”

“Seal the deal,” the brunette clicks his tongue, “I’ll take care of the main act in the meantime. You know I don’t care about the conditions. We already negotiated them. You can take care of the details.”

“I want to take over more important tasks,” Scott suddenly says. He glances at you, and then he looks at Steve. “Sir, I agree on the terms. I’ll do anything to prove that you can trust me.”

“Does she agree on our terms too?” Steve dips his head to watch you stop Bucky’s hand from stroking your thigh. “Buck, we are talking here.”

“I know,” Bucky huffs. “All you do is talk to that slimy little bastard. Give him what he wants so we can get what we want.”

“Mr. Lang, you know that if we seal the deal, that you cannot break it. We have rules for a reason.”

“She will agree,” Scott hastily says. You snap your head toward your boyfriend, wondering what he’s talking about. “Right, Y/N? You’ll help me with the deal.”

“I told you that I’m not going to do anything illegal,” you hiss at Scott. “I looked the other way when you sold stolen phones to my colleagues, but I won’t actively help you. I’m not a criminal.”

“You didn’t talk about the deal with her?” Bucky suddenly jumps up to fist Scott’s jacket. “You dare to come to our house and lie to us?”

“I didn’t lie, Sir…Mr. Barnes. Y/N said she finds you hot, and all. She even talked about ending up between the two of you to her friend.”

“You sick fuck spied on me and Maria?” You growl at Scott. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Mr. Rogers, Mr. Barnes…I’m sure she’ll help you have a baby and all…”

“Baby what?” You furrow your brows. “Okay. This is getting ridiculous. What is going on here?”

“Well, we want you to become our surrogate. Bucky and I love each other dearly, but I cannot give him what he needs, nor can he give me what I want. A baby…an heir. We were looking for the perfect woman, with the perfect bloodline.”

“I-what?” The room suddenly caves in. You feel dizzy and grab the edge of the couch. “You want me to be your breeder?”

“No, doll,” Steve walks toward the couch to crouch down in front of you. “We want you to spend time with us…or rather between us.” He grins. “I want you to have my baby. And then you’ll have Bucky’s. We haven’t figured out whose allowed to breed you first.”

“Breed me?” Oh. God. Your pussy just clenched around nothing. If not for the anger taking over, you’d gladly jump Steve’s bones to have all the babies he wants. “Are you fucking insane? I’m not a piece of meat you can just buy!”

“We believed he talked about the deal with you, doll. Please, don’t be mad at us,” Steve purrs, and runs his hand over your cheek. “We only wanted what we deserve. The perfect woman having our babies.”

“She will agree…” Scott nervously says. He looks at you, hoping you’ll agree to whatever the two men holding his fate in their hands want. “Right babe?”

“I hate it when you call me that,” you jump up, and push Steve aside. “What did you believe will happen when you bring me here to offer my uterus and pussy to these two? Huh? That I’ll just bend over the desk and let them have their way with me!”

“I-uh…kinda…yes…”

“Pathetic,” you click your tongue as you glance at Bucky. He cracks his knuckles, ready to rough Scott up a little for messing with them. “I knew you were no good. I should’ve listened to my gut instinct.”

You dip your head to watch Steve walk toward his partner. They are looking at you, like lions ready to pounce. Those two men set their eyes on you, and you are not foolish enough to believe that they’ll leave you alone.

If you end up in their clutches, you’ll make sure they only get their hands on you to your conditions. “You want me and my womb?”

“More than anything,” Bucky purrs. He steps behind you to place both of his hands on your belly. “And I can tell, Stevie, and will love filling you up.”

Scott hopefully looks at you. This is the moment he was waiting for. He’ll be a made man soon, and his ex will see, he's more than the loser she sees in him. 

You look at Steve, holding his gaze, “I’ll be yours if you get rid of him…”

Part 2

[ruesol]

A drop of blood (in milk) - chapter 1

(GOJO x READER)

PLOT:

You’ve always prevented your blind childhood best friend from fighting your battles for you.

That is until you find out he’s a dragon who refused to participate in a war until he had you safe and sound in his lair.

or: the dragon shifter x witch au

chapter based tags & cw: fem/afab reader, hinted demisexual reader, ableism (not from reader’s end),

fanfic masterlist

–

Mediocrity tends to glimmer in the eyes of an egoist.

It’s just a shame that it took you almost a year to see that in your ex-fiancé.

“Ring, please,” Mahito extends his scarless palm to you. “It’s a family heirloom so I’m afraid you cannot keep it.”

It’s not like you were sweet on the ornament anyway, with its ugly unrefined emerald fixed in the centre and thick oxidized silver band that nearly went up to your joint. It felt more of a bulky knuckle guard than a symbol of engagement. One would’ve thought that someone who’s family breeds horses for the cavalry would be able to propose with a ring that exhibits abiding beauty. 

Petulance bubbles, but you grind your molars before twisting out the ring from your finger. Mahito grabs it before you can place it in his pristine palm.

“I don’t—It’s been a year since we got engaged, and you’re telling me that your family just now decided that we shouldn’t get married?” Self control be damned, the man was about to walk out your store without listening to your entire question and you had to hold on to his tricep and dig your heels into the mildewed boards of the floor to stop him.

Mahito scoffs and yanks his arm out of your hold before resting it on his hip. “You wanna know why? A year ago, you were training to join the royal court’s team of mages, and now you’re some kind of witchy apothecary! People talk! It’s not normal for someone like…you to live among the common folk. You’re—,” he drags a hand down his face before glaring down at your furrowed brows. He had already worn the revolting ring on his pinkie.

“I’m what? Complete your sentence,” you demanded. “What about me helping people is so bad?”

“Everyone is afraid of you, okay? With all your magic and potion-making. We’re all afraid you’ll do something to us if someone crosses you,” he snapped.

It bubbles in you. Curdling under your skin, turning you red with rage. But you couldn’t reinforce his fears. You couldn’t prove him right. It felt as if all the time you spent getting to know him in the past two years was futile. All you wanted was a partner who knew you wholeheartedly as a woman—not a mage’s apprentice.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from shedding a tear and turn around to get to grinding your herbs in your stone mortar. “Well, if you have nothing more to say then you can leave. I’m very busy,”

“I bet you are,” Mahito scoffs before leaving.

You woefully look at the copper spiral staircase in the corner of the shop that leads up to your study, where books and scrolls of almost all the curses you’ve studied while being a mage’s apprentice are stored.

A hidden side of you has the urge to turn the man into a frog and throw him into a nest of snakes.

Witchy apothecary. 

People were alive and well because of you and it was all that mattered. Your magic, herbs, and runes accelerated the healing process of many wounds.

“I’m a good person,” you affirmed with a whisper. “I will not let my power or anyone tell me otherwise.”

You look around your shop, and a year of hard work and dedication presents itself to you. Your trusted cauldron boils a potion that a woman who broke her arm needs, and your shelves contain recipes for salves that can accelerate healing for different kinds of burns.

No horse breeder’s son was going to decide that you that you were strange. He didn’t get to choose who you were.

You brush your hands one last time as if you were ridding yourself of the past–a man you were too good to marry–and pull out your list of ingredients for the potion boiling. You grab your basket and head to the town market.

Though your town isn’t very big, it’s quite happening with its community. The town market is busy as different sounds, smells, and sights acquaint themselves with you. You follow the familiar path from the stall of flowers to the herbs and weeds shop. Nina, an old woman who doesn’t give discounts to anyone but handsome court mages, sits outside her shop with a fan in her hand and her herbs displayed under a canopy table. The pine wood of the table is old and worn, like the woman herself, but her attitude is still spunky–it all changed when you told her you had left your royal mage training to be an apothecary.

“Ah, there you are. Here to strip me of all my herb stock again?” Nina rasps as she fans herself harder. The sheen of her forehead sweat glimmers under the afternoon sun, but it does nothing to hide her frown when she notices your empty ring finger. “Oh no! Oh my, Dragons, You’re not getting married? What will you do now?”

You sigh as you ignore Nina, instead choosing to assess the branches of dry mugworts in her woven basket. Nina wails harder, drawing attention to the two of you. You can only grind your teeth stop yourself from respectfully drawing a boundary with the hag because she had the best supply of weeds and herbs. “I’ll have a bushel,” you say as you throw a small canvas pouch of coins in her lap. “It was fifty pence for one, right?”

Nina throws the fan down on the ground and stands up. “I had only lowered the price because I knew you were getting married and probably wanted to save up for the wedding. But now that it’s not happening anymore, I will charge you full price–eighty pence!”

“You’re being so unreasonable, gosh,” you said as you immediately pulled away from the herbs and fished through your bag to look for the residual payment. Maybe you could stop producing hair growth potions for a while. With your apartment's rent payment day coming up, you had to cut corners somewhere.

But alas, when your hand fished around in your satchel, you felt nothing but the leather jacket of your recipe book and the stem of a rose you had picked up on your way to Nina’s shop. You smiled sheepishly before longingly staring at the bushel of mugworts. “I don’t have enough to buy a bushel. Can’t I pay full price next time?” You tried to muster up your most affable smile, ignoring the tension growing in your pulled-back shoulders.

And without missing a beat, Nina scoffs. “Absolutely not.”

“Nina, come on, it’s me. You use my medicine for your knees. I even give you discounts.”

“Forcing your magic on people and trying to show them how much better you are will not do you any good.” She disregards the kindness you always force yourself to show her. It’s a frustrating relationship. If you weren’t so busy cooking up medicine and assessing wounds, you’d be out in the forest yourself.

“That makes no sense. I’m not trying–”

A large hand slams down a velvet pouch of coins on the canopied table, making all the woven baskets wobble because of the force. “Thirty pence, directly from the royal castle. That should cover it, Nina,” a familiarly cheery voice says.

You hold back your groan before turning to your best friend. “Satoru, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Right, because you both are just so friendly with each other that she was about to agree to your suggestion,” he quips as he feels around for the basket of mugwort. You sigh as you pick it up. “I’ve got it. Let’s go.”

“It’s heavy. I’ll carry it,” Gojo walks closer to you, reaching out to place his large hands on yours. They’re warm to the touch, sticky sweat filming between both your skins. His hair looks out of place and damp with sweat like he had just run through the town's cobblestoned streets. His messiness irks you, so you place your basket on the ground and move his hair out of his face. So what if he was wearing a blindfold? It was still a sensory nightmare to have one’s hair near their eyes (even if they didn’t work.)

“Where’s your cane?” you ask as you run your fingers to part his hair. You’re glad he can’t see you blush because you have to inch close to his face just to help him at his towering height.

“The kids in the town square stole it from me,” he answered with a sigh. Despite the boiling summer heat, you were covered in gooseflesh at the feeling of his breath hitting your face.

“Again? This is the fifth time it’s happened this month. I can only guide you around town for so long,” you groaned as you pulled away from him. As if already knowing you would bend down to pick up the basket of herbs, Gojo grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’ll carry it.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not your job, Satoru.”

“But I’m much stronger than you.”

“Still, it’s not your job to be my butler.”

“Look at you two fighting like a couple. Such a perfect fit,” Nina interrupts. “Both the dregs of society–an egoistical witch and a cursed blind man. At least Gojo’s job at the castle will convince you to go back.”

If it weren’t for the stock you had just bought–well, you and Gojo–you would’ve lunged at the old woman, uncaring that her back would snap at the slightest force (though it would give you great satisfaction to see her get what she deserves.)

Gojo’s shoulders wobble with quiet laughter until you hit his chest. It feels firmer than before as if he had been exercising, but you don’t bring it up. The only egoistical person here was him, and you did not want to be the victim of his goading. He had already given you several nicknames for your attitude.

“What say? Shall we get married, my love?” he teases with his infamously annoying smirk. His teeth were pearlescent and straight. Fate knew it would be unfair to the world's men if this man could see it took them away from him through a curse. However, his shortcomings never stopped him from doing what he wanted, mostly involving making you want to pull your hair out–it’s been that way since you were both children.

You grab his arms and slowly pull his palms towards you. You notice his breath hitch, and his smile falters a little. Maybe even a little shiver in his spine, but you let go before he can say anything.

With a huff, you drop the basket of mugworts in his hands. “Oof,” he groans as he stabilizes his balance.

“Don’t be ridiculous, my love,” you jeer as you grab his tricep. “Where do you need to go?”

Gojo gulps before answering you. “The bookstore, I need to buy supplies for the clerks.”

It was unlike you not to converse much with Gojo while running errands. Usually you’d be chatting his ear off about yet another condescending thing you’d been told while you were out and about in the town, simply minding your business. But that’s the thing about losing a vital sense organ: when you can’t visually perceive the world, your other senses get stronger. Gojo was well acquainted with even the slightest shifts in your tone. It scared you how much in tune he was with your body language despite not knowing what you looked like. 

Much to your dismay, he finally drops the farce of being unaware of your sour mood as he runs out of all the stupid things he’d heard at the castle during his shift. “What’s got you meaner than usual?” he asks, zeroing in on you. It puts you under an intense spotlight that burns your scalp.

You stop in your tracks, and so does Gojo. The heaviness of his arm weighs you down, and it grounds you to reality. You thought you were set for life–a moderately wealthy husband who chose to get to know you before romantically pursuing you and having a career you enjoyed. It's too bad your momentary happiness made you forget that romantic love is conditional. Even couples who’ve been together for decades have material needs from one another. It’s always been that way. For Mahito, it was your status as a royal mage; for you, it was the security of having someone to rely on.

Though you were always aware you could count on Gojo, your friendship was too precious to be sacrificed for a romantic relationship. You knew the love you shared with him was too deep to be categorized because of its unconditionality. It was the cynosure of all relationships in the universe of your mind. 

“Mahito and I broke up.”

You fill Gojo in about what happened earlier with Mahito, and how you were now officially a single woman. His responses had been short for most of the conversation, only occasional hums and nods. It helped to know that he couldn’t see your woeful expression.

“He never deserved you anyway. I knew it when I first saw him,” Gojo nonchalantly answered when you told him about being called a witchy apothecary. “And he’s not wrong–you are a witch and an apothecary. You’re doing good while he’s breeding animals so our knights can kill them in yet another battle.”

“Everybody’s job means something,” you answer as the bookstore comes into view. Gojo doesn’t reply to you. Arguing with him is futile because he would never relinquish his judgment towards your ex-fiance. 

The afternoon sun was as unforgiving as ever as glared right in your face, making you squint, barely letting you see the entrance to the store. “We’re here,” you answer through a grimace as you try to shield your eyes.

You internally thank your lucky stars when he moves to face you, and his body shields you from some of the harsh rays. “I’ll pay you back in a few days. I’m supposed to deliver a batch of numbing salve to the castle infirmary soon, so I’ll be paid extra well,” you say as you pull the basket away from Gojo, but he does not budge.

“What now, Satoru?” you ask with a sigh. Your cauldron couldn’t wait too long. It had taken you an hour to boil the potion because of its consistency, and you did not want to spend most of the day cooking and cleaning in the shop.

“Or maybe you could save those thirty pence and come to the Town Square Festival with me tonight,” his smile is bright as he leans down; he isn’t eye to eye with you, but it’s enough to leave you flustered at the proximity.

“You know I abhor that,” you groan. The Town Square Festival was a breeding ground for judgment and running into people who knew way too much about your personal life. Living in such a tight-knit community meant being the subject of recurring gossip. You try to pull the basket with more force, but your best friend does not budge. “When did you get so strong? Gosh.”

“I started working out. Wanted to look good for your wedding so you’d know what you were gonna miss out on,” he cheekily replied.

“You’re so annoying. I don’t know how I haven’t gone insane after knowing you for so long.”

“Hey, we’re going off-topic. You, me, Town Square Festival, and cotton candy. You’re buying, of course. I’ll pick you up at eight.”

“Ugh, fine! Will you be able to get to the castle without your cane?” Gojo chuckled at your immediate shift to concern as he relaxed his grip on the basket.

“One of the part-timers at the bookstore is supposed to help me carry the supplies. I’ll be fine.”

You reply with a hum and bid Gojo farewell as you walk back to your shop. 

At least the dress you’d bought for your honeymoon with Mahito would be useful. You knew it was good enough when you had shown it to him, and it had earned you a slobbery, wet kiss that had you cringing. 

You swore off all physical contact with him after he kept shoving his tongue down your throat.

–

Falling in love is a fool’s game for dragons. Especially when their mates are not immortal beings like them.

For a powerful and almost mythical beast, Gojo Satoru does not know much as he has only been on this Earth for as long as his mortal mate–a blink of time compared to the eons his father lived before ascending to the Divine Realm and becoming the Ruler of Dragons.

Tonight was finally the night where he would confess to you and tell you everything about his true form–a mystical beast, heir to the throne of ruler of dragons, and your lover decided by the looms of fate. 

When he had heard about Mahito breaking up with you, the beast within him vibrated at the thought of finally claiming you. Though Gojo could simply kill him and claim his place in your life, he wanted to earn that position with dignity. So what if faith wanted you to be with him one way or another? There was no honor in forcing himself as your lover.

And also because he wouldn’t have to burn the grey-haired bastard of a horse breeder to crisp. Gojo was still learning how to kill without leaving a trace. With his guardian hiding away after faking his death, it was getting harder to subtly practice the skills he needed to perfect to be a good dragon.

Gojo raises his hand to fix his tousled hair but decides against it because he knows you’ll feel irked to perfect it when you see its current state. He takes a deep breath before knocking on the door he’d seen way too many times.

“If you’re Gojo, then come in; if you’re not, don’t because my door has a rune that’ll burn you alive at forced entry!”

It eased Gojo’s mind to know you hadn’t completely forgotten what your old mage teacher at the castle had taught you. Things hadn’t been the same after you had found out about his death. It itched Gojo to tell you the whole truth about what had really happened, but he knew he couldn’t just yet–not when you knew nothing of his identity.

And it could wait a little longer because his mouth had gone dry at the sight in front of him –your back was turned to the door, and you were holding up the front of your dress with your hands while the laces in the back were all untied, leaving your skin completely exposed. His blindfold-hidden eyes trailed from the nape of your neck to the base of your spine, where the dress covered just above your underskirt.

The outfit was meant for a more romantic setting, a picnic by the lake, or a night of dancing at the local tavern. The skirt's floral pattern was minimal, and the primrose pink shade of the fabric wasn’t too exciting to look at, but your beauty refined the apparel.

Gojo chewed his lip to stop himself from stroking your bare skin and choked out a greeting as normally as possible.

“Hey…do you, um–can you help me with something?” you ask as you turn around. The imprint of the dragon shifter’s teeth on the inside of his mouth deepened. A little more pressure, and he’d puncture the layers of tissue and start bleeding. 

You glowed like a happy woman who had just let go of a great burden. Sure, your mind didn’t know it, but your body clearly did. Your natural scent was more potent, and your eyes had a little more life in them. Maybe it was the mating bond, but he knew his attraction to you was deeper than that. Something that could only be found in the core of the chest, pulsing with life.

“Yeah, of course. But hurry up. The kids at the festival tend to finish up all the cotton candy pretty quickly.”

Your gaze falls to the ground as you shift where you stand. He sees you walk to him cautiously and grab his arm. Your dress slips a little, giving him a peek at the tops of your breasts as you push the fabric tighter to your body. He finds it adorable how you worry about your modesty even in front of a supposed blind man. “I need your help lacing up my dress.”

With your eyes on him, he finds it almost impossible to hide his excitement at the request, so he cloaks it with his usual vexatious humor. “Ohoho, you’re wearing a dress; that’s a first.”

“Do you want your cotton candy or not?”

“Yes, ma'am.”

“Then shut up and help me,” you demand with a bite as you turn around and guide his hand to the base of your back. He thanks whatever greater power is out there because you cannot see how his eyebrows furrow at the sight of your back.

Gojo notices how you shiver when he slightly tightens the lace, and he decides to tease you. He intentionally misses the other lace, brushing his fingers at the base of your back, and the muscles of your shoulder blades involuntarily flex.

“Gojo, please, be careful. That was…ticklish,” you sigh. Your voice sounds strained, and his mind doesn’t waste time imagining wild fantasies of you saying the same thing in a much different setting.

One where there’s minimal clothing.

“Right, sorry.” Guilt eats him up because he knows that the grotesque and perverse dragon in him is not apologetic about touching his mate.

After sadly lacing up the dress and mentally saying goodbye to your bare skin, Gojo ties the corset–but not before having a final dig.

“Should I go harder?” he murmurs as he leans down to your ear and pulls on the lace. It also gives him a chance to take a whiff of you. The perfume you’ve put on does not do much to hide your scent from his dragon. He smells that his mate is flustered.

You choke on your spit and cough. “Huh?”

“The lace–should I pull harder before I tie the knot?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, just not too tight,” you croak out as you rub up and down your arms. Your natural heady scent dims, and he imagines kissing you on your forehead for being so jittery.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” And the scent returns.

When you turn around to thank him, your eyes squint. “Where’s your cane?”

Gojo panics, trying to think of a good reason why. He’d thrown it away in a bush upon reaching your apartment so he could have the excuse of having you hold his hand to guide him. He tried to come up with another lie.

“Uh, the kids, they stole it again,” he answered with a sheepish laugh. 

The suspicious look in your eyes goes away, but it returns just as quickly. “Then how’d you get here?”

“The kindness of strangers,” he shrugs. You don’t look convinced, but you don’t pry too deep. He can’t blame you for still being suspicious. It’s not likely for a town that isn’t too kind to an apothecary to be friendly to a blind man. Most of the townsfolk felt sorry for him but also avoided talking to him unless they had to because of his ‘curse.’

“I ought to teach those kids a lesson. Ugh, and look at your hair. It’s such a mess,” you complain as you rush to grab a comb from your dresses.

Gojo was in heaven, and things would only improve once he told you everything.

–

The festival is loud and bustling. Lanterns and decorations hung from poles, and children ran around with goodie bags and small drums. The cacophony of conversations, bagpipe music, and laughter was overstimulating to the point where your head buzzed with exhaustion. Still, you’d much rather hang out with Gojo than take a cut out of your ingredient budget and pay him back.

The man was sporting a childish grin after holding three cones of different colored candy floss. It didn’t surprise you that the people at the castle thought he was eccentric because of his enthusiastic nature towards life. Working as an assistant to the clerks at the castle wasn’t a job every man dreamed about, but it got him decent money to buy whatever he wanted and was more than enough.

It was also evident in how he’d shred his money to bits when buying sweets. He’s been that way since you both were kids.

Gojo notices how you’ve turned quiet and covers your hand on his bicep with his own. “Let’s get away from all this. I’m getting tired.”

“You, Gojo Satoru, are getting tired of the Town Square Festival?”

“Is that so surprising?” he asks with raised brows, which you can only tell when little white strands peek out from under the blindfold.

“Yeah, very much so,” you reply with an eye roll. You hope your tone conveys it even if he can’t see it.

“Okay, we can just stay here then–”

“No! Let’s leave.” You drag him away from the crowd and guide him into an empty street.

The moonlight leaves a bluish-gray hue on the dark cobblestones of the street you’re both strolling on. There’s not much light save for a couple lit-up windows, and even then, there’s barely any sound emitting from those homes. The faint smell of bread lingers in the air as you and Gojo walk past a closed bakery, and he makes a passing comment about wanting to buy cream puffs the next day.

You expect Gojo to go on about how much he loves baked goods until he stops in his tracks and feels around for your shoulders. You feel a little confused, but you slough off the feeling out of curiosity over what Gojo was doing.

He squeezes your shoulders and pulls you closer, almost chest-to-chest. “I have something important to tell you.” His voice drops an octave, and your mind reels over a thousand possibilities.

Was it the court mages? Were they forcing him to convince you to go back? You knew he wouldn’t do that to you. Not after your teacher had passed. Not after you’d seen his shriveled corpse.

Anything but that.

“This has been weighing on my mind for some time now.” His head is facing yours, and even without eye contact, the moment feels just as intimate because he regards how important it is for you to see him like this.The summer humidity is thick, and you feel a bead of sweat roll down into your cleavage.

“I think I–” his brows furrow before he can go on. His grip tightens on your shoulder, and he begins dragging you back to where you two came from. “I think I want to go back to the festival now,” he says with an odd rush.

Confusion muddles your head. As much as you love your friend, you cannot be bothered to reenter the loud atmosphere of the festival, and you space your feet out to stop him from pushing you.

“Um, no, I need a break,” you say as you turn around. “I love you, but I love silence more,” you joke as you pull him back to the path you two were on. And even though Gojo lets you take the lead, he still seems stiff.

“Are you okay?” you ask as you rub up his arm.

“Yeah, it’s just…the energy of this place–it’s weird.”

“Energy? Do you want me to look around?”

“No, that’s fine, we should go,” he says as he tries to stop you, but you ignore him. He’s woken up your inner mage. You walk further down the street when you hear rustling behind a building and a woman giggling.

You walk closer, Gojo’s bicep still in your hand, and you place a finger on his lips to indicate that he needs to be quiet. His body stills, only moving cautiously as you guide him closer to the building.

“It’s beautiful, my love,” the woman behind the building giggles. It’s faint, but you know it’s meant for two people meeting secretly.

“Sounds like a couple. Maybe we should leave them be,” Gojo whispers. You flick his forehead and tap your hand twice on his chest to indicate that you want him to wait. You pull out a tube of kohl from your underskirt’s pouch and quickly draw a rune on his and your temples, respectively.

“We can never be too sure. In a quiet street like this, they could easily be thieves,” you tell him through your mind.

“Yeah, but–”

“Don’t make me wipe that rune off your head. I’m trying to concentrate.”

Gojo’s thoughts quiet down as you try to listen closely, but to no avail; all you hear are slight murmurs. You draw another small rune beneath your right ear, and the voices become clear.”

“You’re welcome, Mei Mei. I’m glad I got rid of that witch my parents wanted me to marry. I was starting to wonder how I would get her off my back. Can you believe that she didn’t wanna have sex till we got married? Conceited whore.”

Mahito. It was Mahito and his girlfriend. 

Of course, fate was all about balance. Where it had given you infinite potential and the great power to wield magic, it had also taken away the prospect of true love from you. You were given a stone heart and a mind of gold.

“What’s going on?” Gojo interrupts your mind.

“Mahito. He has been unfaithful the entire time,” you reply.

Rage only fills you to the brim when you overhear more of their conversation about how they had been fooling around all while he had been going on dates with you. How he had plans to marry you for the prestige but keep her as a consort (hah as if he was a noble lord of some sort.)

You silence Gojo’s words of comfort as you rub away the rune you’d drawn on your temple, and you tap Gojo’s chest twice before stomping toward the brazen couple.

You are only pulled out of the bright, white haze of rage when you feel a pulsing ache on your hand and see Mahito’s nose all bloodied as he cries out curses to your name.

His girlfriend stands beside him with a palm to her mouth and the ugly emerald ring on her finger.

–

tag list: @eva-616 @luv3nti @leafynightmares @n1vi @uhkaey @heyl820 @kittsoraxx @asuritam @ratedrrrr @mentallyunpresent @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @starlight5cat @birbwithhat @ressyshi@strawberrymilkshakes-posts

[markandflops]

Here's most of my backgrounds for the lovely short film Garage Sale!

You can watch the film here:

I've spent almost all of my animation career being brought on to help with either animation or storyboarding, so when @ragtagstuff reached out and asked if I could instead help lead the charge with establishing the backgrounds, it was too cool to pass up!

The idea that I remember proposing (this was a couple years ago now so I could be wrong here lol) was to take a color thumb that I think @deadlycomics drew earlier for the project and make its color choices run through the entire film, and I later set up a style guide to help make it easier for others to match the look.

I still love the end results that everyone turned in, and how well it comes together to capture its idea of a dreamy, hazy summer/early autumn's evening. Most of the backgrounds I made were focused on the all-important garage sale itself, there was more than enough junk valuable trinkets to draw for it that kept me busy at the time. xP

Anyway this is all a long-winded way to say that I'm so absolutely pumped that someone who was making an animated film wanted my help in backgrounds instead of animation/storyboards. I love being thrown curveballs like that, it means the world to me. 💖

[somedaylazysomeday]

Good Intentions Part Twenty-Seven

The fallout from Silco's most recent stunt sends shockwaves through the Haven... but not as much as his latest attempt to ensnare you.

Ongoing Silco x fem!reader fic (no reader description, no use of 'Y/N')

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,900

Warnings: Drug mentions, mentions of addiction and relapse, mentions of poisoning, innuendo, unprotected sex, restraints, emotional conversations, references to Silco's operations in Arcane Season One

Previous | Next | Masterlist

---

The fallout from Silco’s stunt kept the Haven occupied for almost a month. 

Not only had he leaked Shimmer into the streets, he had ordered his distributors to offer it at one-third the usual price. Anyone who wasn’t fully recovered had been unable to refuse an offer like that, and the patient relapses you’d seen in the neighborhood had numbered in the triple digits.

The only thing that had kept you going was that the neighborhood had poured out support for the Haven. Jazper and Ronid had come by with two additional doctors, hired temporarily to help assist with the recovery efforts. The other members of the Undercity Innovation Committee had donated other things: enough food to support the Haven without sparing volunteers for kitchen duty, free electrical and maintenance work, help writing grant proposals, and some extra donation money. 

Even people who had nothing to do with governing the Undercity had reached out to support the Haven, doing everything from clearing rubble from the entrance to guarding the building at night. 

It was humbling, and you worked around the clock to take care of everyone who had chosen to keep fighting their addiction. 

Fortunately for both the Haven and the struggles of its patients, Silco’s Shimmer sale seemed to have been an isolated incident. The dealers had been pulled from the area and no one had seen them since that fateful night. It didn’t speed the recovery of the people who had been impacted, but it helped reduce the number of people who came in needing help. 

An unexpected downside to Silco’s new, self-imposed business limitations was that he was doing his best to start communicating with you again. 

Every day, you found a letter waiting outside of your door. More often than not, you found a different letter waiting on your desk at the end of the day. You had briefly started avoiding your office, but the envelopes appeared on your pillow. 

No matter how many people you asked, no one admitted to delivering letters for Silco. Clearly, he had someone at the Haven who was willing to do some work on his behalf. The problem was that you had no idea how to figure out who it was. There were more unfamiliar faces in the Haven than familiar ones, these days, and it wasn’t as if you could start turning people away on suspicion that they were working for the head Chem Baron himself. 

You suspected that Silco wanted to meet. It was only a suspicion, since you refused to read any of the letters. You didn’t know who was delivering them, so it wasn’t as if you could send them back to him unopened to make your point. You settled for burning them, leaving enough for whoever was sneaking into your office to see that you had never opened a single envelope.

But at last, the number of patients began to dwindle. Having beaten their Shimmer addictions back for the moment, people left the Haven. Some of them came back to work with other patients or to volunteer on a more permanent basis. That helped, but you were still relieved when the number of patients from the surprise Shimmer release returned to the single digits. 

The day your borrowed doctors left the Haven was the day you finally relaxed. The remainder of the patients were in the final stages of their withdrawal and actively working toward recovery. Things were wrapping up nicely, but there was also the benefit of having fewer people in the Haven who could be delivering Silco’s letters. 

And yes, you did feel bad about counting that as a benefit. 

You stopped by your office that night, tired almost beyond reason. Perhaps that was the reason you were filled with near-rage at the sight of the envelope on your desk. 

You snatched it up from the desk, but your hands refused to obey your commands from there. Instead of flinging it into the fireplace, they ripped it open and pulled the page free. Silco’s angular writing was difficult to read in the shivering light of the fire, but you managed. 

My dearest philanthropist, 

I would say that I have given up all hope of you reading my letters, but I know two things: firstly, that you are insatiably curious. If you were not, I believe our association would not have lasted nearly so long as it has. 

Secondly, and more importantly, you know that I would not reach out idly. Surely you know me well enough by now to suspect that I would make an offer. 

Of course, you would have recognized far earlier than this that I was interested in bargaining with you, but it has been reported to me that you have yet to open a single one of my letters. 

Before I propose any further deals, I will assume you are still upset about your lost opportunity to work for Piltover. Have you not yet realized that I acted as I did as a favor to you? Piltover has never worked toward any ends that did not benefit them directly. It is likely that they would have positioned you as a scapegoat when their task force failed… and it would have. 

In any case, you would have lost your reputation in the Undercity as surely as you believe it has suffered across the river. The recovery of a reputation in Zaun is a far longer and more arduous process than it is in Piltover. 

I find myself rambling in this letter, and I blame you. With no guarantee of when you will finally open one of my messages, I am forced to write from somewhere softer than my mind. Perhaps not my heart, but somewhere nearer its vicinity than I am accustomed. 

Allow me to make my offer before this letter grows still longer: come to The Last Drop. I want to discuss terms with you face-to-face. For my end of the deal, I will vow to keep Shimmer from ever entering the Haven’s neighborhood again. You can decide what you are willing to give in exchange. 

I hope to see you soon, sweetheart.

- Silco 

You stared at the page long after you had finished reading. You didn’t trust Silco’s offer - not in the slightest. But if there was a chance you could keep Shimmer off of the streets permanently, wouldn’t you be far more foolish not to look into it? 

That was what had gotten you into this mess, and the one before it, and the one before that, but what was your alternative? If there was any hope you could help someone, how could you refuse to take the risk? Even if you were the one who would suffer if that hope turned out to be false. 

You didn’t burn the envelope. Not because you were tired, or feeling sentimental. If you were going to show up at The Last Drop, you were going to make sure Silco knew you were coming. Whoever was leaving the envelopes had clearly told him that they were going unread. With any luck, they would report back to him that you had read this one. 

Silco would know what it meant. 

You slept soundly that night, dreams held at bay for the first time in well over a week. The plan had been formulated, and there was nothing left to do until the following day. 

Just after ten the next morning, you left the Haven. Okkan had wanted to come with you, but you had assured him and Fletcher that you were fine. Yi was sleeping after her late guard shift; she would have been much more difficult to convince. 

The Lanes were quiet, as they always were in the morning. In the weak midmorning light, you could almost consider them peaceful. Fortunately, you also weren’t stupid, so you kept your guard up to avoid any enterprising and motivated pickpockets deciding to practice their craft first-thing in the morning. 

The door to The Last Drop was unlocked, and you let yourself in without a fuss. If the unlocked door hadn’t convinced you that Silco knew you were coming, the sight of the main bar would have. 

The mismatched tables and chairs that typically filled the space in front of the bar had been cleared away. Instead, there was a small table draped with a white tablecloth and topped with a small flower arrangement. Chairs sat on either side of the table, angled so that neither had its back to the main door. 

“Good morning,” Silco greeted, walking around the bar. 

He looked incredibly… domestic. His sleeves were rolled up so he could carry a silver tray with a cover on it. You watched dumbly as he set the tray on the table, worried for a moment that it would hold a severed head or something equally horrifying, but he removed the cover to reveal breakfast. 

The plates, both bearing your favorite breakfast - when had he found that out? - were placed in front of either seat, while a smaller dish of pastries ended up beside the flowers. Silco tucked the tray and the cover behind the bar and rejoined you.

“Do not worry,” he told you with a smile. “I remember that you do not trust the food I offer you. You choose your preferred seat and I will gladly sample everything first so you know it is trustworthy.” 

You frowned for a moment, wracking your mind for what he could be talking about. At last, a shadowy memory appeared, one in which you were waiting for your first meeting with Silco. You hadn’t touched the food he had sent out for you. Apparently, he was determined that the same thing wouldn’t happen again. 

You took a seat, watching as Silco sat opposite you. He cut a bite of food, checking to be sure that you were watching him. 

“You don’t need to do that,” you told him quietly. He paused, eyes searching your face intently. “If you were going to kill me, you would just kill me. Poison isn’t really your style.” 

Silco’s smile faded. “I would prefer that you trust me because I have proven myself trustworthy, but I suppose that is a point well-made. Poison has never been a favorite tool of mine, and never one I would deploy against you.” 

You hummed skeptically and took a bite of your breakfast without further comment. 

“If I may,” Silco said, breaking the silence that had fallen between the two of you, “what drove you to open one of my letters?” 

You pondered the question, taking a sip of water before offering your answer. “I’m not really sure. Maybe I just hoped you had something worthwhile to say.” 

Silco’s polite smile turned to something sharper. “And I assume, from your presence here, that you were satisfied?” 

The way he purred ‘satisfied’ wreaked havoc on your body, not least because your psyche had decided that now was the perfect time to play back all of the hyper-realistic dreams you’d had about him over the past month. 

With any luck, none of that was showing on your face. “Maybe I’m just curious to see what price you plan to ask in exchange for keeping Shimmer off of the streets.” 

Silco’s face grew serious once more. “I meant what I wrote. You name what you are willing to give for it.” 

“Last time, you had a specific price in mind,” you remarked, half-hoping for another smirk. 

Silco didn’t take the bait. “I mean for this to be a negotiation, one taking place between two equal parties. You name your offer and I will decide if it is fair.” 

A distinct throb between your thighs let you know that your libido would be thrilled to make the same deal as you had last time. Your brain warned that it was a bad idea, but that voice was growing steadily quieter under the flood of lust surging through your body.

It would be easier, you realized, if Silco just wanted your body. If you could narrow down what he wanted to something as simple and limited as the option to fuck you a few times a month. 

But in the light of your newly realized feelings, you couldn't ignore that he hadn't done that. Silco hadn't given any hint of what he might want from you, but he also hadn't limited you to making offers based on physical pleasure. 

It was so much worse. You would rather keep yourself from having any hope at all rather than risk everything for the slim possibility that he felt a shadow of what you did. 

You set your fork down, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You had come here for a purpose - to keep Shimmer away from the Haven. It didn't matter if doing that meant denying yourself. You were used to that. The important thing was helping people. That was all that had ever been important. 

“If we want this to be a business discussion, maybe we should go to your office,” you suggested. Silco watched you blankly, and you expanded, “I've seen you do quite a bit of business and none of it ever happened in an empty bar.”

“Would you care to finish your breakfast first?” Silco asked. 

Your stomach was right with nerves, with fear that you wouldn't be able to come to an agreement with him. Even the few bites you had taken were sitting heavily. 

You shook your head. “Not unless you need the time to finish yours.” 

Silco stood immediately. “Unnecessary. Follow me.” 

You were amused despite yourself as you followed Silco to his office. It wasn't as if you hadn't been there before - you knew the way. But if he wanted to lead, there was something more to it. Maybe he just wanted to prove that he was willing to have you at his back. 

Silco’s office was precisely the same as it had been the last time you were there. The desk spoke of the messy mind and busy life of someone doing his best to rule a city. The wicked-looking lance he used for his eye was kept carefully behind the desk, but it was softened slightly by the neon doodles on the handle. The furniture was just as austere as ever, though it was less intimidating when you could vividly remember every time you had been sprawled naked across each surface. 

Somehow, it felt like home, and that made your stomach tighten reflexively with nerves.

Silco sat behind his desk, motioning for you to sit across from him. When you did, he folded his hands on the desk’s surface, fixing you with a mismatched stare. “If you prefer to get straight to business, let us do so. What are you willing to give me in exchange for the Haven’s neighborhood remaining free of Shimmer?” 

You smiled mirthlessly. “I have nothing you want.” 

“I wouldn’t go that far, my dear,” Silco said, openly admiring you. 

The exchange was familiar, a faint echo of the conversation that had started you both on this path. There was a gleam in Silco’s eyes, a fond reminiscence that made you want to smile at him in earnest. 

But you gathered your willpower and shook your head. “We can’t make that deal again, remember? When you came to the Haven last month, you said that was the only chance to resume our original deal. I turned you down.”

“I could be persuaded to make an exception.” 

You arched a brow. “Really? This would be the first time I’ve ever seen it. Why?” 

“I miss you,” he admitted openly. When you frowned, he leaned toward you. “No lies or manipulations - I have missed you. I have felt your absence every day since we ended our meetings.”

“You missed me, so you released Shimmer outside of the Haven?” you asked, wincing at the open hurt in your voice. “You missed me so badly that the only thing you could do was try to destroy everything I’ve worked toward for the past few years of my life?” 

“I had to-” Silco broke off with a rueful laugh. “I had to give you a reason to come back to me.” 

You gaped. “So you-?” 

Silco raised his hand, cutting off your protestations. “No, pet, let me say this. I need to, and I need you to listen. And if you still hate me afterward, I will let you live in peace. No more Shimmer and no more contact with me, I give you my word.” 

After a moment of consideration, you sat back in your chair and motioned for him to continue. 

With a deep breath, he did. “I know you have no need for me. Everything I provided for you, you are well capable of getting for yourself. You have managed without my security team, you found support for your Haven that has nothing to do with my donations, and you stood against Shimmer sales in the area. You have built a fine enterprise. I- I have nothing to offer you anymore.”

“So I had to resort to underhanded dealings.” Silco shook his head with a rueful little smile. “Perhaps you do not realize how well the Haven withstood my Shimmer. I pulled my dealers, but they were far less profitable than I had expected. I would have withdrawn them regardless. I did regret my actions, but they were born of desperation. You wouldn’t agree to a new deal, and I realized how capable you are even without assistance from me. ”

Silco pressed his hands against the desk’s surface, making grim eye contact with you. “I hoped that I could push you into answering me. More than that, I hoped to force you into making another deal with me, into seeing that you could not survive down here without my protection. I was wrong. You have made a place for yourself here and - more importantly - you have found a way to care for the people of Zaun. I see what you have done to change and shape their lives and it has forced me to accept what I have known for months: I am yours.” 

The kind thing would be to say something in reply to that revelation. You wanted to, but it was so far from anything you had expected him to say that you couldn’t do anything but gape at him. Silco’s gaze stayed trained on your face, but there was a tightness around his eyes and mouth that spoke of nervousness. 

“If-” You broke off to clear your throat, trying to make your voice sound less waveringly uncertain. “If you aren’t being sincere, please don’t say that. Don’t joke about it or use it to manipulate me. Please.” 

“Manipulate you?” Silco repeated, sounding irritated. “Pet, you don’t seem to understand that I have done the very opposite. I have given you the keys to everything I can offer. I have given you the simplest possible way to manipulate me.” 

“I wouldn’t,” you assured him instantly. He lifted a brow and you repeated, “I wouldn’t.”

“And why wouldn’t you?” he asked. “You could everything you wanted without being required to give anything in return-”

“Because I care about you, Silco,” you snapped. 

Immediately afterward, a deathly silence fell in the office and you leapt to your feet. There was nothing to do but leave after that. 

You didn’t make it even halfway to the door before Silco caught your arm, holding you steady as he stared down into your face. 

“If you are being insincere, please don’t say that.” You might have thought he was mocking you if he hadn’t looked so terribly concerned.

“Silco, why would I possibly lie about that?” you asked. “If you’re right and you’ve given me everything, why would I lie about my feelings? To not use the keys you gave me?” 

“You-” It wasn’t often that you saw Silco thrown off his game, but he seemed to struggle to find the right words. “You love me?” 

Strictly speaking, neither of you had said anything about love. But in the privacy of your thoughts, you had realized weeks ago that your feelings for Silco had run deeper than you had ever assumed. There was no other reason you would still care about him after everything he had done. 

Besides, you had already come this far. 

“Yes.” 

Silco was studying you with the stunned, slightly suspicious look of a mad scientist watching a successful experiment and you were starting to think this entire meeting had been a mistake. 

“Maybe we should-” 

Your suggestion was left forever unfinished as Silco kissed you suddenly, deeply, and with such fierceness that it took your breath away. When your lungs were screaming, you pushed him away. He didn’t go far, staying close enough that you could feel his rapid breathing across your kiss-swollen lips. 

“Feels like we should talk about this.” 

Silco chuckled against your neck. “I can think of several more productive ways we could spend our time…” 

Everything in your body voiced a sudden and vehement opinion that Silco was right, and that sounded like a much better idea. You lifted your face for another kiss and Silco was quick to indulge you. 

The next few minutes were a bit of a blur. There was kissing and touching and the marvelous scent of Silco - how could you have missed one person so much? - and when it was over, you were lying naked on his bed. Silco was finishing stripping off his own clothes, eyes already devouring you with a predatory eagerness that probably should have scared you. 

When he was as bare as you, Silco joined you on the bed. He was on top of you almost immediately, kissing every bit of skin he could reach and exploring the rest with his wandering hands. You arched against him, fighting for as much contact as possible. It was like your body was drinking him in, soaking up everything you had been missing out on since your deal had been on pause. 

Silco’s fingers were even more dextrous than you remembered, plying your flesh and molding you still closer. If there was a breath of space between you, it was only so that he could sneak a touch into that same spot. You felt like you were on fire, but it only drove you to kiss him with more desperation. 

When you couldn’t stand it anymore, you reached down and took his length in a firm grip. The heat of him throbbed in your hand and Silco’s natural eye went heavy-lidded. He leaned forward to press another kiss to your lips, pulling away just far enough to whisper, “Missed you, pet.” 

It reminded you so strongly of the vivid dreams you had experienced that you nipped his lip to see if he would react like a real person. If you were dreaming again, you would be incredibly disappointed…

Silco pulled back with a garbled curse before plundering your mouth, delivering a wicked pinch to your hip at the same time. He took full advantage of your gasp to deepen the kiss even further. 

Without any clear thought or plan, you tightened your legs around his narrow hips and rolled, forcing him to the mattress while you straddled him from above. Your hands moved back down to his cock, teasing the head of it against the throbbing point of your clit. 

Silco bared his chipped teeth up at you. “You’re killing me, lovely.” 

“Can’t- mmmm… Can’t help it,” you babbled. “Feel so good…”

You bucked mindlessly on top of him until both of you were thoroughly slicked up and aching, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the sensation long enough to line yourself up with him. 

That horrible, shining thread of tension broke for both of you at the same moment. Silco’s eyes narrowed and his fingers dug into your hips, lifting just as you planted your feet to do the same. 

Despite your best joint efforts, you weren’t properly aligned and the two of you slid against each other awkwardly. Silco growled while you let out what could only be termed a whine, but the frustration seemed to sharpen your concentration. The second time you tried to impale yourself on him, your breath caught at the feeling of his head notched against your entrance. 

Then you were lowering yourself and Silco was thrusting upward and he slid home with a teeth-rattling slam. If there was anyone else in The Last Drop, they would have heard your cry. It bounced off the high ceiling, echoing back to you in a cacophony of ecstasy that only drove you and Silco higher. 

If you had thought grinding against Silco felt wonderful, it was nothing compared to the tremendous depth of pleasure you felt at having him so deeply inside of you. All you could do was lift and lower, fucking yourself on him as Silco’s hands took some of your weight and tried to speed your movements. 

The slap of flesh meeting flesh was loud in the room, almost drowning out the shaking breaths that you and Silco were panting. His thumb found your clit, drawing a quick circle before he pressed down against the sensitive nerve cluster. It made you tighten desperately around him and Silco swore vividly. 

Of course, that didn’t stop him from repeating the torment. 

“I’m going- going to-” Your voice was far beyond breathy. It was almost reedy with the effort it was taking to stave off your impending orgasm.

Silco groaned, loud and hoarse. “Been dreaming about the way you feel when you come around my cock. Come for me, darling. Show me everything I’ve been missing.”

As if he had some sort of direct line into your nerves, the muscles of your core started to flutter and spasm, constricting around him like you were going to collapse in on yourself. 

That was more true than you realized. If there was ever a person in your life who felt like a black hole, it was Silco. Mysterious and fascinating and utterly unknowable. It was a strange series of thoughts to have during an orgasm, but your mind was locked into it by that point. Silco was such an outsized presence in your life, and to think that he loved you… well, it was almost beyond what your mind could comprehend. 

Then your mind went fuzzy and you didn’t have to worry about comprehending anything anymore. All that was left was pleasure and heat and the feeling of Silco fucking upward into you with every bit of force he could muster. He buried himself deep as he came, spreading more heat through your core and dripping out to smear between you. 

When your shaking thighs refused to hold you up any longer, you collapsed forward and onto his chest. Silco held you there, arms tight around you as you both caught your breath, then rolled you gently to one side so he could curl himself against your back. 

“I cannot believe you exist,” he murmured, tracing a tickling line over your temple. “And the idea that you love me… it is impossible.” 

You smiled despite yourself. “I feel the same way about you loving me.” 

He kissed your fingertips, humming softly as he folded your hand into his. 

Eventually, the flood of hormones receded enough for you to think clearly. “Silco? What does this-? Do we-? What, exactly, does this change?” 

Silco chuckled softly, and you felt the warmth of it against the nape of your neck. “As much or little as you’d like, pet. The Haven will be under my protection, but I can be as subtle about it as you’d like. And there will be no Shimmer in the neighborhood.” 

You thought that over for a while. The idea of Silco having a hand in the Haven again made you a little uncomfortable, but more for appearance’s sake than any real concern. And the majority of people had already proven that their morals were performative - you were horrible and the Haven was worthless… until they needed something. 

In the end, you relaxed against Silco. “This city isn’t going to know what hit it.” 

Silco laughed - a genuine, happy sound totally unlike the sardonic smirks you usually saw from him. “Too true, my little philanthropist. You and I united will be a force unlike anything they’ve ever seen.”

“I have a few ideas on where to start,” you confided, eyelids drooping with weariness. 

“I do, as well,” Silco agreed. “In fact, I’ve already begun the preparations for our final push for freedom.” 

You hummed, nearly asleep already. Silco pressed a kiss to the curve of your shoulder and you stirred yourself back to wakefulness. “Hmm? You have a final push worked out?” 

“Of course.” Silco sounded affectionately amused, as if it was adorable that you thought he would do anything without planning it fully. “I’ve hired a scientist to work out the details. He tells me the final product will take a few years to develop, but we have the time. We can continue our improvements to Zaun until then.” 

You were fully awake by that point, frowning blankly at the far wall. “Wait…” With some effort, you wiggled around until you were facing Silco directly. “You’ve hired someone to work on… what? What is this product? Sounds like you already have some things set in stone.” 

“Not quite, darling,” Silco assured you. “Just putting some pieces in place. I’ll still need to work out the final plan. In fact, I would welcome your help with that.”

“Okay, but say I want some of the details now,” you pushed. “What product are you having developed?” 

He sighed, rolling back on the pillow to stare up at the ceiling. “Very well, since you are so interested… It is a compound, similar to Shimmer in some ways, but not addictive. Not in the slightest.” 

Your hum was distinctly skeptical. “But what does it do?” 

“It mimics the increased adrenaline and reduced pain reception of the user,” Silco explained. “The adrenaline allows the user to push their body past many natural limits. They will accomplish incredible things.” 

You tensed, fighting the urge to sit upright. “So it turns people into super soldiers. But what about after the effects have subsided? Are there negative health impacts? And even if it isn’t chemically addictive, people can become obsessed with feeling like they have that kind of power.”

“It isn’t addictive because the user rarely survives,” Silco said, finally looking at you once more. You flinched, and he cupped your cheek. “This is precisely why I wished to spare you the details. You have a the ideals of a dreamer, despite your willingness to fight for a good cause.” 

“You’re planning to have people take a drug that will probably kill them.” You shook your head slowly. “What cause could be worth that? Scaring Piltover?” 

“No, I have no use for frightening them,” Silco said, grimacing. “They are fearful enough already. My soldiers would be dispensed to fight off guards, infiltrate the city, and clear the way to the Piltover Council.” 

“And-” Your pulse was thundering so hard that your voice shook with it. “And when you get to the Council?” 

“I kill them all, of course.” 

You gaped at that, horrified by the casual ease of his answer. Silco seemed oblivious to your feelings, kissing and nipping along the sensitive skin of your throat. 

“Silco, you can’t do that,” you said, gently pushing him away.

He blinked at you, the beginnings of irritation growing on his face. “And why, precisely, can I not?” 

“Because you can’t take Piltover by force!” 

“No, I cannot,” Silco agreed, a sly smile growing on his face. “Not yet, at least. But the initial trials are more than promising.”

“This isn’t an option,” you argued. “You’ll do even more harm if you come in by attacking the Council and using drugged soldiers as your muscle.” 

A muscle ticced in Silco’s jaw, and you changed your tone to a logical one instead. “Think of it this way: if you take the city by force, you’ll hold it for a while. You’re clever and you have the ability to draw followers. But if you present yourself as a powerful enemy, the people will combine forces to fight  against you. They will always see you as an invader to repel. You’ll never manage to quell the resistance to Zaun.” 

“Have you already forgotten that I’ll have an army powered by one of the most potent substances ever developed in this city?” Silco asked archly. 

“You’ll have a single-use army,” you countered. “And as more and more of them sacrifice themselves for this war, you’ll have fewer and fewer supporters willing to fight for you.” 

“Then I’ll make it so they have no choice but to fight for me,” Silco bit out. 

You furrowed your brows, studying him more intensely than you had since you first met. There was nothing but resolve in his expression, and you knew without further questioning that you wouldn’t change his mind. He was going to destroy Piltover - and, in doing so, he would destroy any hope for the nation of Zaun. 

With a sigh, you tossed back the covers he had tucked over you and made to rise from the bed. 

Silco caught at your wrist, pinning it to the mattress. “Where are you going?” 

“I’m not going to convince you to change your plan, and you’re not going to convince me that it’s a good idea.” You smiled sadly at him. “It seems we’ve finally found something we cannot agree on.” 

You tugged a little harder at your wrist, but Silco held firm. “But you love me and I love you. You’ve admitted as much.” 

“I do love you,” you agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I can support you in this. Whatever concessions you were going to make for the Haven, consider them either paid for or unaccepted. I think it would be best if we don’t meet up again.”

The cool slither against your skin was followed by two distinct clicks. You turned slowly, both knowing and dreading what you would see when you did: Silco had handcuffed you to one of the rings embedded in his headboard. 

“Silco, take this off of me.” You managed to keep your voice even despite the panic rising in your chest. 

“No.” 

You couldn’t help but pull against the metal encircling your wrist. It did nothing but make you feel more trapped. “Silco!”

“No,” he snapped again, voice harsh enough to make you stop struggling momentarily. “I lost you once. I don't intend to be so careless as to allow it to happen a second time.” 

“Silco,” you pleaded, striving for a less confrontational tone. “This is insane. I can't just stay locked in your room.”

“We love each other,” he reminded you, buttoning his pants. “Everything else will work out in time.”

And then he left, slipping shirtless into his office. You tugged fruitlessly at the handcuffs and tried to keep your breathing steady.

---

Author's Note - They were SO CLOSE to a happy ending. But Silco will always be Silco and our dear reader just can't handle some of his more pragmatic plots.

We're in the final stretch now, friends! Only a few more chapters until the end of this story.

Thank you for reading! If I can ask a favor, I haven't had the chance to watch any of Arcane Season Two yet, so if you choose to review (thank you!), please try to avoid including any spoilers. I can tell from my tumblr notifications on this story that Silco must be in S2, but I'm trying not to know how much or in what capacity. I'll try to be caught up by the time I post the next chapter.

I'll see you soon!

[yeta-drewit]

Wenclair fic recommendations

I’ve read way too many. About 115.

Also all of this are finished fanfics. I believe.

Edit- yes this are all in ao3 and I did this at like 3 am so I didn’t put links and I’m too lazy to change it now.

MY TOP ONES

-Hunting season by gobreakaneck. OMG THIS FIC, a season 2 fic, angst to the max, slow burn to the max BUT REALLY GOOD SHIT. Like it’s good guys trust. Unfortunately it’s part one of a series so yk I was left crying for more at the end.

-Yours, Eurydice by hanjisgirlfriend- SAD AND CELEBRITY AU. Enid is an actor, Wednesday is a famous writer and they are neighbors and they share letters with pen names because they don’t want the public to know. ITS CUTE.

-I pledge to you (my blood and soul) by Whatiscolor. WRITER OF THIS FIC I WANT TO TROW HANDS. This is genuinely one of the saddest fics I’ve read. Forced marriage Au WITH A LOT OF ANGST. I’m not joking I cried. Angst was angsting.

-Purgatory would be beautiful with you by Emilywritesatuff- Just Wenclair stuff but Wednesday is kind of acting like a werewolf but she isn’t, it’s kind of like they are mates and Wednesday acts like it. I just like it.

-Christmas Eve(L) by miliamin- Fake dating and Christmas what else can I say?.

Weird Aus

-Let’s get political by WishaDream - Gomes and Esther are campaigning for the same government position. Esther tells Enid to hate Wednesday but she can’t. They hate each other in public but almost kiss in secret. Don’t let the weird au get you it’s actually really good. I like the political comments in between the actual Wenclair story.

- Just the taste of you/ blood in the water by littlebirdonair - another weird au but this time Wednesday is an assassin meant to kill journalist Enid. My best description of the story. Enid "I talked to an assassin Yoko" Yoko "omg girl!. Have you told the police?! How are even alive?!" Enid "Omg girl it was the hottest thing ever, she was so fucking hot" Yoko "wtf girl” (Warning there is one explicit scene. I skipped it as it was really short and I’m not interested in that)

-The Heart Knows No Death by viienrose - Enid is brutally murder by her pack and the Addams family can bring her back to life if she wishes to. Wednesday helps Enids soul process her death and the possibility of coming back. Sad shit but kind of cute Wenclair.

- Driving to my house in the middle of the night by AtomicJellyBean - Wednesday ghostbuster, Enid has existential crisis and is a park ranger and a very popular fanart comic came from this story.

-Strawberry and Lilacs by thislonelyrealm - not Nevermore high school au, Wednesday is new in town and Enid has live there her whole life (she also beats up Tyler). I made fanart of one scene.

- So this is love by LoriLoud- season 1 rewrite. lowkey insane and deranged. Not joking. I’m not rereading it so I may be remembering wrong but just so yk how crazy it is they kiss while Esther is literally burning. It gets so bad I think Yoko is the only survivor. Bad representation of the Addams family but a fun read.

-Parce que toi et moi, ca fonctionne (meme si ca ne devrait pas) by bogteats- Eurovision Song Contest AU. Enid is a French singer and gay, the Addams family is a Spanish band (my Mexican ass is sad they had to be Spanish) it’s a really cool celebrity au with Enid trying to hide she is gay. It’s not in French guys.

-The proposal (Wenclair’s Version) by NyxSmols- apparently is the 2009 movie The Proposal but make it Wenclair. Idk I haven’t seen the movie but the fic was cool. Honestly Enid was giving Debbie at the beginning of the fic and I’m all for that.

Normal AUs

-Vortex by Alotofconfusion- Wenclair childhood friend au. I think it’s cute. Enid is pretty much adopted by the Addams, no one believes Enid that she has a gf, they call each other business partners.

- Imprinting is such a bitch by King_boo - Season 1 rewrite where Enid imprints on Wednesday the moment they meet, so its season 1 if they both immediately liked each other. Slight gaslighting by Wednesday but she works on that.

- Like two Mismatched Pieces Put Together by ShadeNeverMadeAnybodyLessGay- Wenclair childhood soulmates. Enid is abandoned but adopted by the Addams. Just cute kids stuff.

-Cool about it by randomiska - they are in college and they are fake dating to stop their friends from trying to get them together. Obviously it backfires.

Normal ig?

- Everyone comes to Yoko’s by Sincerely_Sierra- Yoko gets the gays together. Yoko is stressed about the gays and she just wants them to stop bothering her.

- What does he have that I don’t? By Kofeew_milkk- Enid hates that Wednesday smells like Tyler. Cute scenting fic.

-Sweet nothings by Hymenopus- They simp for each other while being in opposites sides of the country. They exchange letters and gifts.

-San Francisco by bishopsinclair_(dustydandelions) - Set during the break, Wednesday goes to San Francisco and werewolf chaos ensues. Blood wolf stuff.

- Raven in the den, wolf in the nest by Barbara_lazuli- Fake dating to spite their moms, it’s really cute specially Enid and the Addams family. There are references to the animated movie, I love Parker.

-Downside of Visions by CelticWolf55- it’s a sick fic and it’s very cute.

To make yourself sad

-Bubble Gum bitch by wishadream - Celebrity AU. Depress actor Enid and assistant Wednesday that doubles as a therapist. They don’t end up together but it’s still cute.

- I’ll love you (from the shadows) by mickeroni -technically not a Wenclair story but it’s a Weems story about her being a sad gay for Morticia and projecting towards Wenclair. She goes to the wedding.

-You drive me crazy (baby) by Sincerely_Sierra- Yoko angst, Enid angst, everyone angst. It’s a taking care of a fake baby trope but what I thought would be like domestic fluff just made me sad. YOKO LOVERS READ THIS SHIT.

Fluff no plot

- It’s just a werewolf thing by WelshCakes68 - Enid blames her gayness on the fact she is a wolf, Wednesday is so whipped she accepts this excuse. Oblivious homosexuals.

Silly ones

- Woes of the Heart by 1unluckystudent - It’s just Enid crashing Wednesday’s and Tyler’s date and being like super jealous and really funny. This Enid behavior is what I want from Enid if Wednesday gets another love interest.

-Potion problems by batzeus99 - Switch personalities and it’s super cute and I think it’s like really funny seeing Wednesday act all happy. Enid just acts like Pip from AGGGTM.

- I’m your garbageman by cowardnthief - Wednesday asks Enid for help on a crush she has. Enid is the crush and she is also obviously to it.

- Black Butterfly by misscanteloupe- Wednesday is jealous and makes Enid hug her while Ajax watches. Wednesday just hates Ajax and I find it hilarious.

Parent fics (because I like this type of content)

-Werewolves made with woe by omnical - Podcasters try to investigate the Addams family. Enid gaslight them into going into the house and absolutely scares the shit out of them. Enid is scary but she is trying to protect her kids.

- Plans of Joy by southernsunrise- They try to have kids. It gets sad but trust it gets better. (Warning miscarriage)

-Double trouble by Pieck_Simp- Wenclair twins. Wenclair moms fighting prejudice against their kids.

Obviously what I like you may not like. Some of this are entertaining but not good representations of the characters. I understand some may have poor writing but it’s fanfics guys not a novel. I encourage you to think critically and not get influenced by this fanfics, not everything you read is good and a representation of good behavior, some of these have questionable behaviors that go unpunished because it’s a fanfic. So do keep that in mind and don’t base your behaviors solely on fan fiction.

[eksvaized]

StripClubOwner!Simon x Reader

After you start dating Simon, who is the owner of not one but three popular strip clubs, you find yourself deliberately avoiding them.

The main reason for this aversion is that you don’t want to be trailing behind him for hours on end while he attends to his business. Moreover, it’s difficult to ignore the way the dancers gawk at your boyfriend with obvious admiration, which they don’t bother hiding. Not even when you're glued to his side, holding his hand.

You’ve never considered yourself a jealous girlfriend. You’re secure in your relationship and you trust Simon. But there are moments when you find your confidence waning. This often happens when you see the amount of attention that he attracts, particularly from the girls who work for him.

They're always around him, their eyes following his every move, their laughs a bit too loud, their smiles a bit too wide. The intensity of this attention becomes especially palpable when he walks into the dressing room to hand out their checks. It’s almost as if the atmosphere changes—the air electrifies with expectation. The girls straighten up, their backs arching subtly, their faces lighting up.

It’s these moments that leave a sour taste in your mouth. You try to brush it off, to reassure yourself that it’s all in your head. But the feeling of insecurity, instigated by these instances, clings to you, stubborn and unyielding.

At first, Simon’s unaware of the turmoil brewing within you, oblivious to the anxiety you feel and blind to the fact that you are increasingly crafting excuses to avoid setting foot in his clubs. This avoidance goes unnoticed by him for a while, your subtle changes in behavior flying under his radar. But when he finally picks up on it, it leaves him feeling more than just a bit frustrated.

That frustration eventually leads to a conversation where he asks you directly about your reluctance to visit his clubs. Faced with his question, you spill your guts out about how it all makes you feel insecure.

Simon, to his credit, listens to your concerns. He doesn’t interrupt or dismiss your feelings, instead he absorbs your words, letting them sink in. After that intense conversation, things change subtly between you two. For a while, he doesn’t bring up his work.

However, there comes a night filled with laughter, deep conversations, and a hearty dinner. Admittedly, the two of you indulge in a little too much to drink. Simon, ever the extravagant spender, spares no expense when it comes to fine alcohol. You, on the other hand, despite not having the same tolerance, try your best to keep up with his pace. The result is you ending up in a state of giggly euphoria, while he, accustomed to such indulgences, barely feels tipsy.

Amidst this atmosphere of light-hearted intoxication, Simon, with a serious expression that starkly contrasts the jovial mood, proposes a solution for you to overcome your insecurity. He suggests an idea that is as unexpected as it is intriguing.

“Dance,” he says. "One of the girls would teach you,." His belief is that by doing, you would not only come to see that you are every bit as talented as his dancers, if not even more so, but you would also realize you don’t need to be jealous or feel insecure.

In the morning, you find that the idea which seemed brilliant the night before doesn’t hold the same allure. However, after a week passes, before the club opens its doors for the night, Simon drives you to it and introduces you to his top tipped dancer.

You’re immediately intimidated, unsure of what to expect. However, as it turns out, your fears were unfounded. The dancer is a lovely woman, slightly older than you, patient and understanding. She starts you off with simple moves that you can practice on the floor. Once she sees you getting comfortable moving around in heels, she encourages you to try some moves on the pole.

The following week is spent training intensively, and surprisingly, it becomes a fun. This happens especially once you find your balance and stop falling each time you raise your legs in the air—the initial awkwardness fades away, replaced by a growing confidence in your movements.

As the month passes, your readiness to step onto the stage grows, but it only happens after a lot of persuading from Simon. He reassures you, tells you he wants to show off all the hard work you’ve put into your training.

And show you off, he does. After your debut performance, you’re met with an overwhelming amount of positive attention from the rowdy men in the audience who can’t tear their eyes away from your body. The thrill of being on stage, combined with the generous tips you receive, makes you want to dance again.

You become a regular performer at the club, captivating the crowd with your mesmerizing dance moves and the way your body moves. You never strip, daring only to shed a few pieces of clothing here and there, but that doesn’t prevent you from becoming the customer’s favorite—your aura becomes a magnetic pull, drawing in patrons night after night.

Simon’s overjoyed when you decide to leave your shitty job and start working for him. His excitement, however, doesn’t blind him to the need for certain rules. He puts several in place, but there’s one rule specifically created for you — no lap dances. Under no circumstance is anyone allowed to lay a hand on you.

But there are those who dare to break the rule. Occasionally, men attempt to get their hands on you. But each time, they end up with broken fingers.

Surprisingly, the pain and humiliation don’t deter them. They return to the club the following night, attracted to you like moths to a flame.

I wanted to write a short fic based on this, but I already have many WIPs >.<