#like apples or hearts or stars or whateve

[ghostlychaosfoil]

plus doodless

so I think weighted blankets would just be regular to raph, so he never got to TRULY understand the hype

untill now

[atxchiphxbix]

just something small for my boy, a late valentine's day gift

Content. mdni afab + f! reader, unprotected sex, oral (f! receiving), swearing, ig angst if u squint, caleb finishes in reader, L-word drop, he does call you pipsqueak im sorry, slight spoiler for 'verified rumor' memory

fake boyfriend! caleb who calls you up one day, asking you to come to skyhaven for a teeny-tiny favor that only you can help him with.

fake boyfriend! caleb who tells you he'll do anything for you if you pretend to be his fake girlfriend because there are too many people interested in him and he doesn't want any of them (he's only wants you)

fake boyfriend! caleb who says this is a "win win" situation. He gets to fend off his admirers (prove that you belong to him) and you get some needed relationship experience in. Of course, it's all fake and there aren't any feelings at all — besides, you two grew up together and this is a normal thing, right?

fake boyfriend! caleb who is just so charismatic and falls perfectly in place as a boyfriend, your boyfriend. It's almost like he's made for you (he is)

fake boyfriend! caleb who introduces you as his needy girlfriend, with an arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush to his warm, toned torso. The way he so easily takes on the role is absurd, the way he easily introduces you as his girlfriend sends your mind reeling but it feels so... right. It feels right in a way that causes your cheeks to burn and chest to tighten.

fake boyfriend! caleb who looks at you so fondly whenever you're interacting with one of his friends, telling them stories of how you and him 'met.' He feels his heart swell with so much love and he wants to kiss you until with lungs cripple and lips sore. It's even worse because you fill the role perfectly (you're made to be his) it only makes his pants tighter and the apples of his cheeks red.

fake boyfriend! caleb who keeps the act up even when his admirers die down and he isn't so bombarded with love letters and lunchboxes anymore. He keeps up the act long after you leave skyhaven, even carrying it over when he visits you in linkon, taking his precious girl out on dates and spending long nights at your apartment. You don’t even realize how cemented he is in your life, how your heart beats just a little faster when he nears you, placing a braised chicken wing on your plate or when he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

fake boyfriend! caleb who starts to feel a little less like a fake boyfriend and more like a real one. It begins to feel so much more real when you catch your heart stuttering in your chest, when you catch him gazing fondly at you, when you sleep in the same bed because you’ve begun to feel bad for making him sleep on the couch. It’s so much more real when you realize how easily he slots himself in your life, how routine it is that you don’t even have to change anything because he’s always been there. He’s always been there for you.

fake boyfriend! caleb who, once again, spends another night at your apartment. He’s in your bed this time, lying next to you as you use his arm as a pillow. His soothing fingers pat down your hair, your own trailing down his chest before resting on the expanse of flesh where his collar meets his jaw. It’s then you become alarmingly aware of the proximity, the shared breaths, and the intoxicating space between your bodies. You’re so close that you can count every speck of stars in his violet hues.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lets silence marinate between you two, neither wanting to break the thin veil that masks your relationship, whatever it is or whatever you want it to be. But he's the first to turn away, breaking the hypnotizing eye contact with you. He turns his face to bury in the soft pillow, ears, and cheeks flushed the same shade as his favorite asiatic apples. His voice comes out in the muffled murmur, you’d be unable to hear if you two weren’t so close.

“It’s late. You should get some rest, pipsqueak.”

A light scoff leaves your lips and disappointment stirs in your heart. You aren’t sure what drives you to surge forward, fingers fisting into the blue cotton of his shirt, pulling him towards you, and mushing your lips together. It’s messy and forceful but you’ll swear it isn’t your fault — it’s all because of Caleb. Everything is because of him.

You seal your lips together, spurred by sudden want and need, heat surges through your veins, fogging all logic in your fuzzy mind. The kiss is longer than it should be, a minute, two, or three until all the air crawls away and leaves your lungs crippling and aching for air.

And then, you breathlessly pull away. Out of breath like you’ve climbed to the top of the highest mountain, you think it might be similar to how you’re feeling right now. A familiar heat pools in your lower stomach when you brave to see the state Caleb is in.

fake boyfriend! caleb who’s eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen, and a heavy blush settled onto his pale flesh. His lavender eyes hold swirls of yearning and want, mirroring your own. Shared breaths and heated air are stifled between you and the pilot before he pushes forward, connecting your lips again with a needy groan that's greedily swallowed.

fake boyfriend! caleb who hovers over you, violet eyes boring into your soul. His hot breath beats against your cheeks, a quiet groan escaping his pretty lips when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, and it takes everything in him not to mark you up, to claim you.

“Did you mean to do that? Did you mean to kiss me?” His voice is soaked in desperation and he’s completely and utterly entranced by you. The pretty, sweet, stubborn girl from his childhood. The girl he’s watched grow up into the woman under him, the woman who has clawed into his heart, making a home of him.

fake boyfriend! caleb who loses his mind once he sees you nod your pretty head, teeth biting down on the plush of your lower lip. His body feels numbingly hot, the air is stifling, and his pants are suddenly too tight. He isn’t close enough, he wants — needs — to be closer. He wants to settle into your body, carve himself into your heart, meld his soul with yours. He wants whatever bone you’re willing to throw his way.

fake boyfriend! caleb who strips the two of you out of your sleepwear and in an instant, his lips are on yours. The kiss is in no way tranquil or soft, it’s greedy and messy, and downright sinful, pushing his tongue in your mouth and completely disregarding the mixed saliva that drools down the side of your mouths. He takes in all of you as he feverishly kisses his way down your body, biting and suckling at any glimpse of skin he can reach.

fake boyfriend! caleb who lavishes wet kisses from your breast and down to the navel of your body, fingers curling at the edge of your panties, inching the fabric down once he settles between your thighs. An audible groan is ripped from his throat when he sees how soaked you are, the fabric sticks to your skin as it’s peeled off with strings of your wetness clinging to the thin fabric. A wave of embarrassment washes over you when he comes face to face with the most intimate part of you and it’s better than any fantasy he’s ever had.

“Fuck, pipsqueak… you’re so soaked.” His voice comes out as a raspy cadence of love, eagerly pressing his nose to the wet material of your panties, taking in your scent.

fake boyfriend! caleb who suckles sloppy, dark hickies into the plush fat of your inner thighs, working his way up to your core. Bruises bloom across the expanse of your skin, trailing wherever his lips find purchase on you. You’re aching now, desperate for him to devour you but helplessly watching him litter his love on your thighs. Your fingers thread into his dark locks, pulling him closer with a soft whine.

“Caleb, please…” You can hardly recognize your own voice, whiny and needy for his lavish attention. “Please don’t tease.”

fake boyfriend! caleb who chuckles softly and abides by your sweet pleas. His soft, wet tongue makes contact with your soft folds, laving the wet muscle over your throbbing clit, groaning like a starved man at your sweet taste. It's better than he could've ever imagined. Spurred by the delicate harmony of your moans, he devotes himself to pleasuring you, intently watching your expressions with great care. He wants to know everything— what colors you blush, what makes your toes curl, he wants your fingers pulling at his hair, and whining his name like a prayer.

fake boyfriend! caleb who makes you cum alarmingly quick when he pushes two fingers into your sopping hole, stretching out his pretty girl. He watches his fingers piston in and out of your squelching hole, enamored with the way your cunt sucks him in like a black hole. Your cunt spasms around his digits, velvety walls fluttering around his fingers as your orgasm washes over you.

"You're so cute, pipsqueak. So, so cute." He coos, pressing light kisses to your throbbing bundle of nerves before smearing his fingers, covered in your release, across your lips.

fake boyfriend! caleb who asks for consent (he would never want to make you uncomfortable) before pulling out his cock. Your jaw falls slack when you see his pulsing length. He's big and thick with one prominent vein running on the underside and pearly beads of pre-cum dribbling from his tip. For a moment you wonder what it would feel like if it pulsed on your tongue, how it would feel to have him shooting ropes of cum into your womb. 'I'm screwed,' you think to yourself but your body opposes and your core aches to be filled again.

fake boyfriend! caleb who thinks he's just ascended above skyhaven when his tip notches against your entrance.

"Oh, fuck—" His forehead falls onto your shoulder, a series of whines and pleas falls from his lips, feverishly pressing kisses onto your skin, anything to make him last a little longer as he pushes inch by inch into the velvety walls of your tight cunt.

fake boyfriend! caleb who watches your eyes roll back when he finally bottoms out, balls resting against the soft curve of your ass. He takes a moment to admire your pretty frame, the sweat glistening on your chest, heavy breaths that leave your tits heaving, and the dull pain of your nails leaving crescent shapes in the meat of his biceps. Caleb doesn't think he can ever let you go.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you." The words fall from his lips like a mantra as he fucks you, folding your knees onto his shoulder. His cock splits you open, pressing and abusing your g-spot every time his hips meet yours. The room quickly fills with the harmony of desperate whines and moans, littered with I love you's that're quickly engulfed in messy, hurried kisses.

fake boyfriend! caleb who cums with you when you whisper your confession into his ear, like a little secret between the two of you. His hips stutter and he's suddenly shooting hot, white ropes of cum into your fluttering pussy, milking him dry and filling you up.

fake boyfriend! caleb who collapses onto you, wrapping you up in his toned arms and pulling you close to his warm body, pressing soothing kisses to your temple, cheeks, nose, and finally onto your lips.

"I love you," he confesses. His words are hushed and speak of the longing and teetering of the line that the two of you hesitated to cross for years.

"I love you too," you reply, pressing a trail of gentle kisses along his jaw as your fingers intertwine with his. Your body feels sore and full, heart content, and so, so loved.

He presses his lips to yours once again, smiling gently before soothing you to sleep. He'll always be by your side, no matter what happens. He'll be right there.

lovesick! caleb who... loves you a little more than you realize.

first fic hehe

thx for reading <3

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ climax 2.0 ] | sylus

— summary: he takes you to a safe house. reasoned it was the safest option while his men tied up whatever loose ends remained from your mission. you get the feeling there’s more to his words than what floats at surface level. — cw: reader is not mc, reader implied to be femme, assassin!reader, profanity, sexual tension, minor character deaths, mentions of blood & violence, terms of endearment, self-deprecating thoughts, a sprinkle of romance, self-indulgent, unhinged moment, mdni — notes: special thanks to @alfredosaws for helping me write this. thank you so much for reading! — now playing: i follow rivers - lykke li

Silly woman. Getting your hopes up for nothing. Still...

He’s yet to set you down—Sylus. Your enigma of a boss, cradling you in his arms like an offering to be bestowed on an altar. Long fingers crooked under your knees, a possessive arm swept under your back.

You’re not hurt—he saw to that when he safely lured you to the ground with his Evol. So why does he insist on carrying you like you are?

You try not to get caught up in how he smells—petrichor during the spring. The leftover carbon of spent bullets. Suede and the freshly-broken skin of a clementine. 

How he feels—strong yet firm, honed from years of boxing and a past you know little of. Tender despite the violence he’s capable of. Big and comforting, like a blanket fresh out of the dryer on the coldest days of the season. 

How he breathes—even, as his heart thrums a steady tempo against your chest. Soothing like ocean waves rolling over your feet, lulling you into tranquility. 

Tch. Since when did you become so poetic?

You’ve long since traded the cacophony of bullets ricocheting off his Evol—of Nikolai’s men shouting obscenities, bleeding malice and vitriol as they spit orders—for the serenity of the night.

Passersby mill about on the moon-laden streets. Couples laugh, bundling together to ward off the night’s chill. An occasional drunkard stumbles down the sidewalk. Sylus effortlessly sidesteps them, refusing to let you walk on your own despite the perturbed looks he garners. You try not to dig too deep into things. And yet…

He’s carried you like this for at least a mile through the city’s heart. Past historic buildings jaded by time, under twinkling string lights, hung over shopping centers and outdoor cafes bordering the street. 

It’s something of a dream. Something like a romantic film, but you don’t feel like you deserve to be its star.

He’s made no move to set you down. You’ve also made no effort to untwine your arms from around his neck. Instead, you study the flexing tendons in his throat. The bob of his Adam’s apple when he chuckles something murky and guttural after he catches you staring. You look away with bashfulness creeping beneath your skin, only to repeat the ritual all over again. 

It feels like old times—a memory far off when he carried you like this once before after you led him on a hunt through the docks. After you took down one of the most prominent human trafficking rings in the underworld, and after he thought he would lose you forever. 

You’re sure you were heavy then—he spent most of the night searching for you, reducing anyone who got in his way to ash and bone. He was exhausted, violet bags hanging beneath his eyes, blood speckling his collar. Yet he still held you so tenderly. Walked you towards the horizon, clutching you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. 

You’re sure you’re heavy now.

And he shouldn’t be holding you like this. Despite how delightful it feels, a voice admonishes you from the deepest regions of your mind for getting too comfortable. 

He’s not yours. This isn’t right. 

She might be gone, swept up in the mountains playing escort, but you can’t help feeling like you’re betraying the hunter. You’ve already crossed her so many times in your mind before. 

You squirm a bit. His gaze slides to you. Scarlet eyes gleam beneath the tawny lights like multifaceted rubies. His brows lift slightly, and the beginnings of a smile prod his lips. 

You clear the phlegm from your throat, tamping down the hot flush rising from your chest to stain your neck and cheeks. He’s effortlessly beautiful, like something spawned from a Rembrandt painting. 

“You can put me down now,” you urge, your voice uncharacteristically soft. “I’m perfectly capable of walking by myself.”

He looks forward, wearing a full-bodied smile. “I know.” He continues walking like you didn’t speak, making no effort to let you go. 

You give him a deadpan look. Try again, a little more insistent this time. “Sylus.”

“Yes?” he returns, humored, patient. 

“I said you can put me down.”

“I know.”

You sigh, exasperated after a few moments spent glaring at his side profile. His devastatingly attractive profile. That sloped nose. Those heart-shaped lips. Those pretty, grey-fringed lashes. 

“Aren’t you afraid of someone seeing us like this?” You gesture to your conjoined bodies with a nod. “People might get the wrong idea.” 

You might get the wrong idea.

He huffs a laugh like you’ve said the most absurd thing. “When have I ever been concerned with how others perceive me?” Those softened eyes flick back to you, something cold prickling low in your belly at the weight they carry. At how his voice dips like he’s drawing you into a secret. “Since when have you?”

Your lips twitch. He poses a fair argument. You’ve never cared much about how people view you, save for Sylus and the twins. More recently, Ms. Hunter. 

Guilt twists in your throat. Burns like ash. “Sylus…”

“Am I making you uncomfortable? Because if I am, I’d be happy to set you down.” There’s a beguiled edge to his voice. A challenge. A plea. Almost like he wants you to say, ‘No.’

Surely, you’re being delusional.

Regardless, you blanch. And it’s comical how quickly you shake your head, eliciting a thick, low purl of laughter from your savior. Your argument dies in the back of your throat. The drape of your arms around his shoulders slackens. But you still don’t let go. You don’t want to let go. 

You decide she’ll have to be upset with you—Ms. Hunter. Decide to be a little selfish, but only for a little while. You’re growing too comfortable with the sharp click of his heels against the cobblestone. With how he lightly jostles you in his arms after each measured step. You could fall asleep like this, ushered to dreamland by the source of your fantasies and suffering. 

After some time spent wordless, Sylus slows to a stop. When you glance at him, he nods at something ahead, finally setting you down. You’re bereft of the warmth and safety his body provides as he helps steady you. Smoothing out your dress, you take in your new surroundings. 

A structure stretches before you, much like the ones you passed before, only the upkeep is better. Three stories of dark, historic brick and an awning dotted with sepia-toned lights loom overhead. The building's name scrolls on a marquee sign in its center, blaring through the frosty haze of the night. It reminds you of an old movie theater, repurposed for something more upscale. 

You turn quizzical eyes to Sylus. “A restaurant?” Come to think of it, you are a little famished. Murder always manages to stir your appetite. 

Sylus pushes back the tails of his suit jacket, shoving his hands into his pockets. Exhales slow. The spotlights highlight his smile as he looks between you and the entrance. “Not hungry?”

“Yeah, but…it’s a little short notice, isn’t it? Don’t you normally need a reservation to get into places like this? Will they even let us in?”

With a huff caught in his throat, Sylus brushes past you, bounding up the few steps to tug the door open. A swell of noise spills outside, the soft stroke of piano keys, the clatter of cutlery against plates. The savory scent of cooked meat and sautéed vegetables assaults your senses. Your stomach growls. You pat it placatingly, casting Sylus a wary look.

“They should,” he says with a shrug, patiently waiting for you to enter. “I own the place.” His eyes shine with playfulness, posture lax.

You scoff. Of course. He owns half the city. It makes him more attractive, knowing he can buy anything at the drop of a hat. 

“Wow. That’s awfully Bruce Wayne of you, don’t you think?” you mock, stepping up into the restaurant, guided by your fingers wrapped around his forearm.

“Wait,” you start, inadvertently tucking into his side. “Why are you hungry? I’m the one who did all the heavy lifting.”

Sylus shrugs again, feigning innocence as you clear the restaurant's entryway. “Watching you work always makes me peckish.”

You whack his broad chest, rolling your eyes. Can’t help smiling. Giggling. Letting your defenses waver.

The air between you feels lighter, reminiscent of times spent carelessly flirting when the line between employer and subordinate blurred beyond recognition.

—

It’s lively inside, but not overwhelmingly so. 

Colorful conversation brightens the atmosphere around you. Patrons of new and old money, dressed in designer clothing, sip expensive wine. Prattle on about their reckless ventures, about fickle things you can’t be bothered to entertain. 

It’s a high-brow restaurant, with the gentle croon of live music and light fixtures dangling overhead to simulate candlelight. The interior is Art Deco inspired. Jaw-droppingly beautiful. You’ve found yourself eyeing the bar more than once, impressed by the expansive shelves housing vintage wine and spirits, stretching towards a yawning, stained-glass ceiling. 

Had you not known better, you would’ve thought you were on a date and not lying low while ornery men tore the city apart looking for you. But that’s not the case. 

At least, you don’t think it is. 

You bite down on your fork, bleeding warmth, ignoring the scarlet eyes boring into your face for the umpteenth time.

You’re tucked away in one of the restaurant's corners with your boss, seated at a booth, shying away from the spotlight. Away from the prying eyes of the other patrons, though that doesn’t stop the occasional gaze from wandering over you. Curious clients raise their wine glasses at you with tense smiles, scrutinizing the pair of you as if you’re celebrities. 

You do stand out, still donned in your attire from the banquet. And Sylus commands attention wherever he goes, standing a good foot over most of the populous, his hair a riotous shock of white. 

Also more perplexing is that he hasn’t booked the place out. He prefers solitude, the comfortable quiet. And yet, he’s brought you here, surrounded by people, treating you like something to be shown off, and you're lightheaded from the whiplash he’s giving you.

He’s been nothing short of a gentleman. Pulled your chair out for you, ordered on your behalf, ensnared you in idle conversation. Kept your champagne glass full when your waiter was out of earshot, even lauded you for another successful kill. It’s all so uncharacteristic of him, and you can’t help feeling like he’s building up to something big. 

It’s grown quiet between you since your meals arrived, and your thoughts have crept in, robbing you of any bliss you began to experience. 

You’ve caught your boss watching you several times. And he’s never appeared guilty, shamelessly peering into your eyes, smiling, slowly ticking away at your resolve. 

Your skin prickles with warmth as you push around the vegetables on your plate. The meal is lovely. Savory, but your appetite’s abandoned you. Something’s off. You’ve sensed it for the better part of the night. Sylus is being more attentive than usual, and it’s unsettling. 

What’s his angle? Have you offended him? Is he keeping an eye on you, afraid you’ll run away? Will tonight be the night he lays you off?

You decide to confront him, having had enough of this ambiguity. This farce he’s put up. You clear your throat, smoothing out the napkin on your lap. Set your fork down, gaze hesitantly sliding to him across the table as you attempt to make light of your situation.

“Why do you keep looking at me like that? Is there something on my face?”

Sylus’ eyes crinkle with a quiet mirth. A soft youthfulness as he props his elbows on the table, twining his long fingers together. A grin blooms behind his fists. You hold your breath.

“Has anyone ever told you how adorable you are while you eat?”

You choke on your spittle. Violently pat your chest to dislodge it, reaching for your flute of champagne to wet your throat as tears form. Adorable isn’t something you’d use to describe yourself. And adorable isn’t something you’d ever imagine Sylus classifying you as, either.   

“Maybe you should lay off the champagne,” you cough, the burn in your esophagus subsiding. 

He isn’t much of a drinker, so you suspect he’s spewing nonsense because he’s tipsy. You set your glass down, snatching the bottle of bubbly from the table’s center. It’ll be safer on your side, out of reach, where your boss can’t use it as an excuse to utter more absurd things. 

Sylus’ brows knit, mock hurt descending onto his face. “What? Am I not allowed to compliment you?”

You cough again, bringing the bottle to your lips. Drink straight from the source, crisp liquid drizzling down the sides of your mouth. How ladylike.

Maybe you should stop drinking. You’re starting to hear things, your daydreams coming to fruition. This isn’t happening. Your boss isn’t pouting at you like a child, calling you cute, and making you feel things that should be buried beneath the Earth’s crust. He’s typically stingy with his compliments unless given to a specific person. So why suddenly aim them at you? 

The bubbly’s got your head a little fuzzy. That, coupled with the adrenaline slowly seeping into your veins, emboldens you to get to the heart of his strangeness. You decide to poke the proverbial bear. 

“What’s your problem?” you prod, setting the bottle down with a definitive thunk. You fix him with a look, one of tight lips and furrowed brows. 

Sylus chuckles, seemingly in disbelief at your brazenness. He’s fucking with you. He has to be. Maybe he’s trying to get a rise out of you, sensing how vulnerable you’ve felt throughout the night. How vulnerable you’ve been the past few months. 

“Whatever do you mean, sweetheart?”

You ignore how the term of endearment tingles in your skin. It feels more weighted than usual tonight. Everything’s heavier tonight. 

You sigh, looking at your lap with a forlorn smile. Toy with a loose thread on your napkin, steeling yourself for this unavoidable conversation.

The champagne’s got your tongue a little loose, and the people surrounding you give you a boost of courage—witnesses in case Sylus decides to kill you. 

“You’ve been really nice to me all night.” You sound mousy, contrasting the crass asshole you were moments ago. “It’s kind of…weird.”

A silver brow lifts. Sylus adjusts in his chair, leaning closer to hear you better, the faint note of his cologne wafting off his skin. Threatening to derail you. To change your mind.

“Have I not been kind to you before?” He momentarily scrutinizes the lacquered wood of the tabletop, seemingly lost in thought. Gazes back at you, inspecting your face.

You swallow against the sandy grit of your throat, powering past your nerves, an anxious titter on your tongue. You toy with your necklace, dizzy. “No. No, you have. Just…not like this.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Sylus wordlessly encourages you to continue, watching your mouth, your eyes.

“I mean, the gala. Rescuing me from Nikolai’s goons. Carrying me. Dinner. The compliments. I don’t get you, Sylus. One minute, you’re pushing me away. You’re ignoring me, and then the next, you’re…confusing the hell out of me.”

The words are out before you can contain them. Silence stretches between you, stiff like a bowstring drawn back. You can’t look at him now, feeling so small and stupid beneath the blistering weight of his stare. 

You’re disbelieving that he could be so kind. Romantic. Considerate, treating you like something closer than a subordinate. Like he doesn’t have someone else occupying his mind, and you’re wondering if he’s playing some twisted game with your emotions tonight, using you to fill the gap the hunter left while out saving the world. 

“Am I truly that difficult to understand?” he replies, his voice gritty yet soft. 

Something pinches in your chest at the fragility of his tone. You want nothing more than for the world to open up and swallow you whole. 

You flinch when the flat sides of his nails graze your temple. He briefly stops before tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. Then, his fingertips blister down your cheek. He tilts your head back, cupping your chin, coaxing you to look at him. And you do, reluctantly, a warm film of something wet washing over your sight. 

He studies you with a reverence you don’t deserve. A look you haven’t been subjected to in a very long time, yet it still manages to constrict your heart. Still makes your stomach jump like you’re descending downhill, and your lips part slightly, quivering. 

Time slows to a crawl around you, the world seemingly carving out a pocket of space for only the two of you to exist. The sights and sounds of the restaurant fade into obscurity. You’re focused solely on the scarlet wash of his eyes, how they shift back and forth, studying your features, searching. Seeking answers your mouth refuses to utter. 

“If I’ve made myself anything less than transparent, I apologize.” The sincerity there, the quiet vulnerability, it makes you sick because you’re undeserving of it. You feel like you’re taking part in a naughty secret. Witnessing a side of him usually reserved for the hunter. “But I assure you, I’m not as mysterious as you think.”

You snort despite the moment. Despite your pulse thudding in your eardrums, a trickle of optimism seeping through you like molten liquid. You don that arrogant, playful front as if rolling over and showing him your belly will be viewed as a sign of weakness. He could still very well be screwing with you. Getting your hopes up to shatter them like waves breaking against the rocks.

“Yeah, right. And I’m the Queen of England,” you retort, rolling your eyes.

Sylus shrugs, resigned. Still, he doesn’t relinquish your gaze, the soft curl of his fingers around your face. Instead, he grows more tender, his irises twinkling a youthful shade beneath the ambient lighting as he leans closer. His voice is wispy like he’s murmuring something confidential. 

“You don’t have to believe me. But I am no liar, sweetheart. You know that.”

With that, he releases your chin, fingers slowly dragging over your face, leaving a searing path in their wake. You breathe again, unaware you weren’t, as if released from a spell. You watch him take up his champagne flute, slender fingers curling around its stem, and he stirs its fizzy contents. 

You’re jealous of that damn glass, still feeling those ruinous digits burning themselves into your skin.

He decides to shift gears. You’re thankful because you need time to process things. To get your heart rate down from the sky. 

“Besides, you looked like you could use a break. I figured tonight would be a good time for some morale boosting.”

You snort again, sipping from your own flute to assuage a flare of anger. “Me? A break? Morale boost? Yeah, sure.” 

Taking a breather with your boss, playing around on a date like you didn’t just murder someone? Was he serious? And is that all this was? A figurative pizza party to say, ‘Thank you’ for being an obedient little pet? 

You knew you were an idiot, getting your hopes up for nothing. 

“You know, contrary to popular belief, I’m not as much of a slave driver as you think,” he says, parting the tumultuous sea of your thoughts.

“Really? Luke and Kieran might say otherwise.” There’s more vitriol in your voice than you intend to let out. But you’re deflecting, protecting yourself. 

Your chest tightens when Sylus looks down, idly twisting the glass stem between his fingers. His gaze softens, and something in his voice shifts. “Can’t I just spend some time alone with you? Show you how much I appreciate you for being loyal to me all these years?” 

You stiffen, feeling like someone’s thrust a knife into your gut and twisted it. You must not have heard him right. For a moment, he sounded exposed. Wounded. And for a moment, you feel bad for doubting his intentions. 

You’re about to pursue it when your waiter reappears. He’s all smiles and professionalism as he sets two martini glasses on your table, crystalline liquid swirling ominously inside.

You look up at him with quirked brows. He stands in good form, folding his hands together behind his back. 

“Courtesy of the couple over there,” says your waiter, gesturing over his shoulder with a nod. 

You peer behind him. A middle-aged man and a younger-looking woman dressed in eccentric textures smile and wave enthusiastically at you. You lift your glass to them in a quiet toast, pasting on a smile. The gesture is sweet, but what’s the occasion?

“They said, drinks for the lovely couple, and congratulations on celebrating your anniversary.”

You sputter, sending drops of your martini flying every which way. 

Sylus laughs at your plight, taking up a glass for himself and lifting it in appreciation towards the couple. You glare at him as he sips. 

“Happy Anniversary, darling,” Sylus teases. Winks for added effect. He laughs a wealthy man’s laugh while you choke. 

You contemplate correcting the generous couple, but the martini is delicious. And Sylus doesn’t seem affected by it. 

And maybe it feels good pretending that, just for a moment, he’s yours and yours alone.

—

Someone had a sweet tooth following dinner.

That someone, of course, being you. 

The dessert menu at the restaurant looked appetizing. But you had a craving for something cold. Soft-serve. Besides, you were growing uncomfortable the more that couple ordered you drinks. At one point, they’d been so bold as to stop by your table on their way out. 

They kept ogling you. Winking, laughing drunkenly, spewing out their hotel room number upstairs. When they left, you leaned over the table, cupping your hand around your mouth.

“I think they’re swingers,” you whispered to Sylus. 

He laughed, sitting back. Raised his glass to you, a brow tilting up to match the cant of his lips. “Wanna go find out?”

“Hell no! I’m a one-partner kinda gal.”

You didn’t miss how his gaze shifted. Darkened into something you couldn’t quite place. 

You find yourselves in a 1950s-inspired diner— a modest hole-in-the-wall joint with retro decor and bright lights. Only a couple of other diners inhabit the restaurant. You’re nursing a milkshake, courtesy of your boss, buzzing like a child who’s gotten everything they wanted. 

He teased you about your cravings—only you’d want ice cream when it’s cold out. But he didn’t put up much of a fight, humoring you after you wore him down with those puppy eyes and your fingers buried in his sleeves.

He entertained you further by playing the claw machine in the corner at your behest. Watching a man so big, feared, and elusive fiddle with such a garish machine—you felt honored.

You cheered him on, the sleeves of his jacket draped over your shoulders, puddling around your elbows. After several attempts, he was successful, sheepishly shoving a purple koala bear into your hands. Your face burned hot, and your cheeks ached from smiling and laughing. 

It feels like a dream. The ideal date. And for a moment, you forget that Sylus is your boss. That he could never be yours and that you’re anything but a killer. 

You fiddle with the jukebox, earning curious glances from the diner’s other customers. They’re whispering things, eyeing you warily. You ignore them, queuing up a song. And you’re dancing, silly at first, but muscle memory kicks in. Soon, you’re moving your hips, smoothing over the contours of your body, spurred by Sylus observing you from his place atop a stool. 

You wish he would smile more—an authentic smile, unhindered by sarcasm or smugness. He’s much more handsome like this. 

You think about all the times he’s smiled this way for the hunter, and you stumble in your steps. You flash him a smile when it looks like he’ll get up to help you. Carry on dancing, doing one of the things you do best.

You pretend you’re at Lux, and he makes you feel like you’re on a stage just for him, your nerves flaring at his attention. There’s a gleam in his eyes as he leans back on the countertop on his elbow, watching you with muted appreciation. How long has it been since you’ve danced for him?

So swept up by the music, you hardly register the diner slowly emptying. Not even the servers seem to be bustling about anymore. You get an ominous prickling sensation on the back of your neck, the fine hairs there standing stiff. You stop. 

You exchange a look with Sylus. He raises a brow, tapping his temple. “Keep going,” he rasps, doting, coaxing. Entranced.

He has whatever’s about to transpire under control. You trust him fully. The Bonnie to his Clyde. 

The wispy tendrils of his Evol materialize around the diner’s interior to form a barrier, tossing the restaurant into a misty haze of red and black. It’s reminiscent of hellfire, and you feel like Lilith taking part in a sacrilegious waltz. 

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, attentive as you continue to dance. And you smile, putting on a damn good show as Nikolai’s men funnel in, their cries of agony tempered by the music spilling from the jukebox and your laughter coloring the air as Sylus rends flesh from bone with his Evol. 

—

He takes you to a safe house as the night reaches its peak. 

He reasoned it was the safest option while his men tied up whatever loose ends remained from your mission. Like dining and holding hands out in public didn’t warrant an ambush. 

Someone snitched. Saw that familiar riot of white, those brawny shoulders. Heard that gritty voice mixed with your distinct laughter and sent Nikolai’s men to finish you off. Sylus picked them off while you danced unhindered, but there was no telling how many stragglers were left, ducking into the shadows, creeping along the historic brick walls. 

Again, he insists on carrying you as you break through the door of a quaint, quiet home perched on a hilltop. Secured by his biometrics. Bordered by evergreens and the calming symphony of the forest. Isolated, like him. Hidden from invasive questions, from prying eyes. 

You’re tired. The night’s adrenaline sloughed off, leaving you tenuous and agreeable, which is why you don’t put up much of a fight as Sylus walks you through the foyer, smiling down at you like you’re his precious bounty. It’s infectious. Your lips tug, too, though a little less enthused. You blink slowly. Breathe evenly, lulled by the mollifying thump of his heart against your cheek. 

He drops your stilettos on the hardwood floor halfway to the living room. Deposits you on a dark leather settee, fixing your dress over your legs and his jacket around your shoulders. Draws back. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what hits you when your fingers close around the pleated sleeve of his button-up, eyes beseeching when he looks at you from over his shoulder. 

You don’t say anything. Don’t have to.

Don’t leave. Stay.

You don’t want the dream to end. Not yet.

He chuckles low, all smooth like whisky poured into a glass. Softened, scarlet eyes pan in through the low light, his silhouette haloed by amber. He lifts your legs to settle onto the upholstery beside you. Pulls your feet onto his lap. They’re irritated. Rubbed raw from being strapped to too-tall heels all night, running and gunning like you had no limitations.

He sensed your discomfort. Always such a gentleman.

Large, sweltering hands close around your feet, kneading through pressure and knots of tension. Knuckles at the balls of your feet. You exhale slowly, pleased. Thankful. The attention’s nice. There’s a small voice wading through the murky sea of your mind, telling you this is wrong. That you don’t deserve it, his tenderness. 

You’re getting pretty fucking sick of your conscience. It’s just a foot rub. It’s not like you’re kissing him. 

“You’re good at this,” you note offhandedly. 

“My hands are more useful than you think.”

Something dark threads through his voice. Something cheeky. You ignore how your stomach flips, your mind sparkling with impure ideas. 

Drowsiness sweeps in around the corners, bordering your vision like a vignette. He’s masterful with his hands. You wouldn’t expect anything less from the king of the underworld. You doze off, shepherded through the inkiness by the faraway tick of a clock. By trees rustling beyond the massive window, the moon dragging itself to the center of the sky, cloth moving as Sylus rubs over your calves. 

You stir when he shifts. When he moves to get up and lay your legs on the couch. That feeling returns. That ache. The call of loneliness. Your sleepiness abandons you, making way for cold fright. You stumble from the settee. Rush to stand at full height, gripping his shirt at the crooks of his elbows, halting him.

Your mouth opens. Heart thundering. You don’t know what to say—what you were thinking. His gaze is unyielding, studying your face like the slow flicker of a flame. Silver brows knot. Peach lips fall slightly open. He’s waiting for something. Asking for something. 

You’re on autopilot when you cautiously angle yourself closer. Your gaze falls to his mouth, and he mirrors you, cradling your elbows as if he’s afraid to break you. You’ll blame it on the bubbly you consumed later. On the spell he somehow cast over the night, enthralling you with his chivalry. 

You tug, and he meets you halfway. Not like you have to put in much effort. He’s already leaning down. Eyes already half-moons, breath already shaky. 

He tenses when your lips meet. Shoulders drop once the initial shock peters, and then he’s kissing you with those full, molten lips. He draws you closer, hands splayed possessively at the small of your back. Thumbs cruising over the meat of your hips. Up and down your sides. Wherever he touches, you burn.

You exhale through your nose, and your arms snake around his neck. Fingers sift through the fine hairs at his nape.

He teases your mouth open with his tongue. Sighs something anguished when you grant him entry, licking into your mouth. Pulls you impossibly closer. He’s rigid and warm against you. Gathers your cheek in his palm, angling your head back. He kisses greedy. Selfish. Plunders your mouth, milking the sweetest little sounds from your body. Sounds you didn’t think yourself capable of making.

You kiss and kiss until your lips are chaffed. And even then, you don’t stop. He’s ravenous, moving against you like he’s waited eons to do this. Like he’s fought a war with himself and lost. You’re his Gettysburg. His Kryptonite.

You’ll feel sorry for yourself tomorrow. Blame it on the air, charged with something heady, your inhibitions and common sense thrown to the wolves.

It’s just a kiss. He’s your boss. And tonight, he’s been something of a friend. A dream. Friends kiss all the time, right?

So why do you feel so guilty?

— tags: @emneedshelp, @reiofsuns2001, @crazy-ink-artist, @vonev, @subliminalwish, @ikiru-wa, @inkonparchment, @regandoesthings, @szired, @alyyylog, @leekingsman, @beewilko, @an-ever-angry-bi, @abbylee0710, @sunnyf4lls, @himiko-omikami, @midiplier, @ari-shipping-stuff, @karespocketboyfriends, @glamouroki, @babygirl-panda19, @im-in-different-universe, @sillyfreakfanparty, @lunebulous, @vilehrs-blog (sorry if i missed anyone.)

climax | masterlist | falling action

[bbluefllame]

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ

synopsis: college au texts (& small hcs) with the girls + tropes<3

characters: jinx, vi, caitlyn, sevika

notes: SHE'S BACKKKKK!!! sorry for being gone for so long #igotintoleagueoflegends(thegame.), regular posting will be back !! other than that, sevikas part was my fave bless.

vi. + fake dating (also biker! vi)

- how this whole fake dating thing started was through a hook up actually!!

- both of you got shitfaced & you two were already friends, so after vi saw Maddie with caitlyn she was like "nah fuck it I'm gonna get her back!!" (classic, sigh.)

- this is random, but she's actually a really good cook (in my head) and she's probably made some fire meals 4 you

- for some reason.. she gives me xxxtentacion listener like she loves "I don't even speak Spanish lol" in this au but when she's emo over cait, bring out the sad! and shit like that 😭

- her ass would be on the ground staring at the ceiling, sad! blasting, and her roommate would be like SHUT THAT SHIT DOWN!!!!!

- avid marvel rivals player, loves luna snow no questions.

- don't ask why she texts like that she js does 😔

- she goes "this is for you" before scoring in a game and trips while running and falls on her face instead😭

- she is nawt NAWT!! a womanizer(?) fuckgirl(is that the female equivalent?????) idgaf what ppl say, sure she flirts occasionally but she's super loyal if she's in a rs, she's an awesome gf !!! we love vi in this household!!!!

jinx. + childhood bsfs 2 lovers

- matching pfps & bios on tiktok and insta I'm telling u. it'd be smth like "sniper, sniper, sniper" then "wifey, wifey, wifey"

- random hc cs yay, vi probably accidentally killed her pet hamster when they were kids and you had to comfort her cs her ass was crying for HOURRSSSS. there was a funeral for it with a tiny casket. (it died cs of the microwave beeping when vi's instant noodles were done)

- one of those ppl who gets high grades without trying, don't ask her grade unless you wanna feel hurt cs she js says "98" while being hungover.

- her music taste is so all over the place but I'm so certain she sticks to loud music!! she gets sleepy if it's calm😭

- engineering major no doubt abt it

- doesn't know how to cook but not cs she can't, it's bcs she doesn't want to

- she probably asked you out in a cutesy way like imagine after ur bday you're watching the stars tg and she's like staring at you w hearts in her eyes and she js says "I love you" and you're like "awww I love you too!!" cs ur bsfs, but she then repeats it "no like I LOVE you" and ur like woah.. then u start to makeout or whatever w stars in the bg, end scene!!

- genuinely the best gift giver ever, everything's homemade and made w love 🙏🙏 i lauv her sm😔😔

caitlyn. + academic rivals (+ forced proximity)

first pic isn't rlly connected to the rest, js to show their rs

- after the project you two actually got alot closer, you could even say FRIENDS 🤯, there is still competition but it isn't like as bad as before, it's more so "Haha, I got higher." "wtvvv 🙄 I'll buy u ice cream 😔"

- sevika was the prof btw, she wanted to fuck with u guys 🙏

- archer cait. that's all I gotta say. (also equestrian u can't tell me other wise)

- HEAR ME OUT! imagine she invites you to her archery training & during it ur like, "Can I try?" she says alright and then when you're holding the bow she goes behind you and starts fixing how ur holding it, then she wraps a hand around ur waist and brushes it off as "oh your posture was incorrect" when she lets go.

- moving on, I imagine her having a doll collection like don't ask why but she collects monster high dolls. (please ask her about every single doll, she'll proudly infodump)

- when u get closer to her she's alot less formal, its very cutie of her !!!

- has a fitness tiktok account and she drinks apple cider vinegar daily (NASTYYYY IDGAF IF ITS HEALTHY!!!!).

- modern au cait is like a cat in my head, idk she's js so cutie in it please give her love that's it😔

sevika. + grumpy x sunshine (professor! sevika)

- her students try to tease her when she smiles at your notes, she shuts them down so fast it's scary. her expression goes from 😊 to 🤨, then they stfu and go to their seat.

- only person who teases her and gets away with it is jinx I fear.

- you and sevika have a nightly routine of dancing together (she's so soft w u don't play w me.) her fave song to play is love by Keyshia Cole (ARGUFJWHFIWJ 😭😭😭😭😭)

- regular gym goer, she has an insta she barely posts on besides the occasional video of her hitting a new record while her students comment "omg MISS SEVIKA!!!!!" then she blocks them when she sees the notif.

- doesn't trust anyone to cut her hair besides you cs apparently you js do it better, her words, not mine! 🤷‍♀️

- one of those, mean to everyone besides you, types (minus isha and jinx cs those r FAM!)

- loves reading idk I js get that vibe from her, after a long day, she opens her kindle (that she got from you as a bday gift) and relaxes.

- first time her students saw you, they glanced at both of you like a million times before it registered you were together, cs how'd she end up with such a sweet cutie!!

- they ask her a billion questions and she's like "I don't talk about my personal life, end of story."

- she's trying to quit smoking for u trust 😞 it's js hard but she's getting there!!

- she loves u so dearly please never let go of her.😔😔

sevikas part was too long I'm sorry 😭 ...there were gonna be a couple NSFW hcs for her but 5 minutes after I wrote them I got food poisoning so I was like "I'll die if I post them."😔😔 anws hope u liked these

[custardtartsfan]

Jason Todd uses a flip phone. No he will not upgrade.

a little bit proofread! youd think the child of an ESL teacher would know whats up but youd be wrong! anywho this is vv off the dome and i didnt exactly know how to end it so please tell me if you feel like it flows right i appreciate any and all feedback very dearly ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

“Jay!” his partner calls from the other side of his apartment, making their way from the kitchen to where he was cleaning his guns in the living room. A very ritualistic process for him. They're all uniformly laid out on his coffee table (which he did not own before getting into a relationship, shout out the wife) , unassembled and being very carefully cleaned with a level of precision you seldom see outside of scientific glass blowers. Hes locked in

“What?” Jason looks up from his gun cleaning ritual 

“Can i borrow your phone? I wanna order food” they smiled, leaning over the back of his couch

“Whats wrong with yours?” he asks, “dead” y/n replied simply, and Jason reaches into his pocket with minimal grumbling

Jason was not a fan of technology, as a rule. He thinks its evil. He doesn't have any social media, does not watch any tv that isn't the news, and doesn't particularly like having his photo taken on anything digital. But still, none of that knowledge about their boyfriend couldve prepared y/n for being presented with a tomato red  Motorola RAZR V3 Flip Cellphone after it was dug out of Jasons cargo pants

“...what the fuck is this” they gawked at him. They hadnt been together all that long, but long enough that y/n feels that they should have noticed this piece of ancient history in his possession

“What?” Jason replied casually, unclear why they were looking at his phone like that “you have my phone no? Order your food” he said while getting back to the gun cleaining 

“Im- what is this?? Jason, be serious” y/n said, still absolutely rubbernecking at the phone. They went around the couch to look him in the eyes

Jason made a face “im being serious, order your food” he rolled his eyes at his partners ridiculousness. 

“Jason.” y/n gawped “look me in the eyes and tell me this is your actual primary cellphone.” they said, leaning down to look their boyfriend in his soul. Jason furrowed his brows

“Thats my phone. Why is this a big deal? I dont like apples and samsongs. Or whatever” Jason responds, puting down the half put together glock hes cleaning to cross his arms and lean back against the couch 

“My phone number is in this. You answer my texts from this thing??” they asked, still holding out hope this was a really stupid elaborate prank. From their boyfriend. Who had the driest sense of humor on the- okay yea he wasnt joking

“Yes??” he said incredulously, looking at his partener like they were being unreasonable. Actually- they were being unreasonable. It was a razr phone, not some far future star wars trans communicator. y/n needs a second to think about this

They plop themselves onto the couch next to their boyfriend, staring at the ceiling

“You really are a drug dealer” they murmured. Jason snorted

Jason snorted. “Below the belt” he retorts, snickering as he went back to his gun cleaning. Locked in. clear eyes, full hearts, cant lose.

“You need an actual phone” y/n states, like its the word of god. No protests will be tolerated, this studio apartment is not a democracy. Jason makes a face.

“I dont trust that shit” he murmured, continuing his surgical precision glock cleaning. y/n tilted their head

“Whys that?” they questioned. Jason scoffed, like its obvious

“ ‘don't want the government knowing my business” Jason loured

“Don't want-” y/n looked at him, in his soul “Jason. Whats a drivers license?”

Jason scoffed, smiling since hes won the argument now,in his own mind at least “i dont have one” he said triumphantly. y/ns eyes widened to the size of frisbees. They'd been in a car he was driving. Many times. Yesterday actually

“What the fuck d’you mean you dont have a drivers license??” “i never got one” he answered simply, like that was chill 

“Im- yes i get that. But you drive!” they argued, turning their body to fully face their insane boyfriend

“Well yea,obviously” jason rolled his eyes. y/n guffawed at him

“You're- a prolific criminal” they murmured, deciding not to question it anymore. He dresses up like red riding hood grew up and transitioned and got REALLY into body building. He used to kill people. Hes literally cleaning his multiple unregistered firearms in front of them. 

“Does the pope shit in the woods?” Jason retorts. y/n and jason stared at each other for a second 

“not what that means” “yea not what that means”

.𖥔 ܁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅ fun with formatting! i like the coloured text but i wish the shades weren't so jarring. i also find the images incredibly annoying to format properly but maybe im just being dense i dunno. the drivers license bit was inspired by my co worker because she too doesn't have a drivers license and yet owns a car and drives it and isnt in jail yet. you go icon

also the term wife is used GENDER NUTREALY !!1! i wanted an actual gender neutral term for nuptial partner but nothing hits like wife does imo. anyways tysm for reading! i love you sleep well ₍ᐢ._.ᐢ₎♡ ༘

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

The First "I Love You" - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You tell Adam that you love him for the first time, the first of any of his wives to tell him that. Your confession of love leads to Adam showing you just how much he loves you back.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, Adam being his usual insufferable self, SMUT, MDNI

The world outside of Eden's garden was a dangerous one, but your husband never failed to keep you safe. Adam had told you stories of the garden and how he lived there with Eve, years before your creation as his third wife. His tales of the place he described as Earth's own heavenly paradise where your every need was met always enamored you; for you too wished you could experience it with him by your side.

The possibility of that happening was long gone as soon as Eve bit into the forbidden apple, but without the actions of your predecessors, you wouldn't have come to be. In a way that even you admitted was a little fucked up, you were grateful that things happened the way they did, and you were grateful you got to meet the love of your life.

Adam was an asshole with an ego that was far too big, but at the end of it all, he was the same man who kept you safe during the day, and who held you at night, keeping you warm despite the cold night, just as he was in the present moment.

You snuggled up to him, your head laying on his chest while his hand absentmindedly combed through your hair; the two of you attempting to get some sleep, gazing up at the stars in the night sky. You certainly weren't in the Garden of Eden, but being with him was like your own personal paradise.

You looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded and threatening to close from his quickly growing need for sleep. He yawned, pulling you closer, an action that earned a gentle smile from you. You leaned up, kissing him softly.

"Fuck was that for?" He questioned. "You tryin' to fuck, babe? Usually, I'd be thrilled, but I'm exhausted as shit right now."

You shook your head. "I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You replied, smiling at him warmly. He gave you a curious look, unfamiliar with the concept of a kiss that was more chaste in nature. Whenever he kissed you, or his previous wives, in the past it was in the throes of a lustful exchange.

"...Why? Do you want something else, or...?" Confusion filled his voice in a rare moment where he wasn't his usual confident, boisterous self. You shook your head. "I wanted to do it because I love you, Adam." Those last four words played on repeat in his head. "I love you, Adam."

The phrase "I love you," had been uttered by a human before; he had said it to Lilith, and then Eve, but never to you. Yet here you were, the first one to say it to him, all of your volition. The feeling in his heart was indescribable to him, something he never felt before, and it felt better than anything else. Knowing that the one he loved felt the same for the first time ever made him feel almost euphoric, and he was determined to get as much out of that feeling as possible.

His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss. He climbed on top of you, moving his lips down to your neck where he sloppily kissed and nibbled, earning a light moan from you; one of his favorite noises.

"Let me show you just how much I love you back," he said, voice low, his hands moving to your thighs. "You want that, don't you? Tell me just how much you want that, sweetheart." Your legs spread instinctively as he loomed over you, the pale moonlight of the night reflecting off of him and giving him an alluring glow.

"Adam, please," you breathed out, pulling him down, your faces nearly touching. "I want you so much. Make love to me, fill me up, do whatever you want to me—" He silenced you with another kiss, pushing into you slowly. You moaned into him, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to get as close to him as you possibly could, savoring the intimacy of it all.

His thrusts were slow, yet deep, and the pace had you feeling every single inch of his cock inside of you. It was a welcome contrast to the usual way he fucked you; with quick, rough movements and an eagerness to reach only his climax and not yours. It seemed for once he was fully enjoying the pleasure shared between you, and in no real rush.

"Say it again," He told you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his speed increased just slightly. "Say you love me, baby." With your mind clouded with pleasure you barely heard him, your only focus being on the way his cock fucked into your pussy. Unsatisfied with your response, he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look into his eyes filled with arousal, love, and a twinge of desperation.

"Say. It." He growled, each word followed with a sharp thrust that hit your sweet spot head-on.

"I love you—fuck! Adam!—" You threw your head back, arching your back as he rewarded you by speeding up, thick cock stretching you out perfectly with each movement. "Love you—fuck, yes!" You let out a loud moan as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"Gonna fill you up," He groaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours filling the air. "'I'm gonna get you pregnant, have you do what those other unfaithful bitches couldn't do for me. You probably want that more than anything, to be my perfect little wife who only loves me."

You only nodded at his words, practically drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking into you so deliciously, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to ground yourself, your orgasm barreling towards you; its arrival sure to be at any moment.

"Gonna cum—" He warned, moaning out your name in a way that made you even wetter than you already were. "Y-You gonna let me fill you up? Let me–oh shit—" He moaned again as you wrapped your legs around his waist, burying him in deeper and locking him in place at the same time. There was no pulling out now, not like he was going to anyways.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou—Ah! Fuuuuck!" He growled, his hips stilling, warm cum spilling deep into you. The feeling of him filling you to the brim sent you over the edge, your climax consuming you.

You two remained in silence for a long couple of moments, looking into each other's eyes in a shared adoration before he pulled out, laying next to you. You closed your eyes, satisfied, yet tired.

"Come here," He said, voice gentle, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's do that shit you always want to do after I fuck your brains out."

You furrowed your brows in a slight confusion before quickly realizing what he meant. You let out a giggle. "You mean cuddle, Adam? You usually just go to sleep afterward. What changed?"

He rolled his eyes in response to your question, trying to hold back the smile sneaking its way onto his face. "Trust me, I'm going to sleep, babe. Might as well hold onto you so you don't sneak off or some shit like all fucking women seem to do."

You ignored the implications of his comment, snuggling up to him. "I love you, Adam. I mean it. I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his heart from your words. "Love ya, too. Now go to sleep, the man needs to get his rest."

You closed your eyes, the feeling of him tracing imaginary patterns into your back lulling you to sleep. You loved him, and he loved you, even if he was still struggling to fully accept it.

[cobaltperun]

Eternal Flame - Runaway Train

Jenna Ortega x female Reader

Summary: For her it’s a passion, for you it’s an accident. And as she continues shining brighter and brighter with each role you are left mesmerized, drawn to her flame and cherishing every time she lets herself be vulnerable with you.

Spotify playlist

Masterlist / Next part

Word count: 6.2k

-You were there like a slow torch burning, I was a key that could use a little turning-

“The world still sucks!” the shout woke you up, but your doors being slammed open made you jump to your feet from the couch. Somehow even in your confused state you managed to recognize the voice of your best friend and self-appointed back-up manager for your career that would soon be restarted. At least according to Barbara, the same girl that just burst through your front door like she owned the place.

“So does your ability to knock,” you complained, reaching up to fix your bed hair, just fixing whatever you could with your fingers. You ended up falling asleep on the couch while reading through some scripts Barbara managed to get for you. Asshole. Sending e-mails in your name.

You didn’t have to look at her to know she just rolled her eyes and sat down on your couch. Flipping through the script parts you received. “Don’t pretend you’re getting something from the kitchen!” she called you out on your habit the moment you went toward the kitchen, and you winced, sometimes hating how well she knew you. You still poured yourself a glass of apple juice. “At least bring me a glass too,” you winced again at that.

“If you can barge into my apartment, you can get it yourself,” you grumbled, still feeling sleepy. You should have made a coffee, or tea, or something that would wake you up. You went back to the couch and sat down next to Barbara, smirking slightly as she tried her best to glare at you. You even made a show out of slowly sipping on the apple juice, just to see her pout.

“Mean,” she complained and looked away. You had to admit it was a cute pout. Barbara was beautiful, you were more than aware of that. A bit above average in height, just over 5 foot 6, she had a beautiful face, striking blue eyes, and blonde hair as straight as she was, which was a 100%, not a single atom in her body was attracted to anyone that wasn’t a man.

“You love it, babe,” you still teased one another every now and then. Even if she wasn’t straight there was no way you could ever see her as anything but your best friend. The teasing was just there for light-hearted fun.

Barbara hummed and suddenly tried to grab your glass, only for you to lift it out of her reach. “You have no heart,” she sighed and gave up on drinking the apple juice unless she got up, and you knew her pride wouldn’t let her do it. “Did anything catch your eye?” she asked, pointing a finger at the scripts.

“I dunno. How did you even get this many scripts?” there were four scripts in total. There was one for psychological thriller that would require you to go to Italy, one for a superhero movie, one for a reboot of the Scream franchise and finally for a pilot episode for TV drama.

Barbara shrugged and patted you on the back. “The comeback of a child star that won several awards and was nominated for a bunch for her first and only role? You’d be surprised how effective that pitch is,” she laughed as you facepalmed.

“You… I’m not even going to say anything,” you sighed, glancing through the window. You weren’t sure how it happened, you just auditioned because it seemed fun and Barbara dared you to do it, and then you ended up getting the role, got the taste of the industry, the work and dedication it took and just figured you didn’t want to spend your childhood like that. But now, close to turning twenty, you figured you might give it a shot again. Even if you were still a bit reluctant to go back to that world.

It wasn’t the work, you could do it now. But now that it’s been several years since your movie came out in 2017 and even more years since you filmed it back in 2013 and 2014, you found it difficult to motivate yourself to give it a shot. After all, how do you follow the success of it?

You didn’t notice Barbara’s eyes softening. “You worry too much,” she pointed out nudged you lightly.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. “Yeah,” you went and picked up the script for Scream. “I think this should be fun, though going to Italy could be fun as well, and it’s a good story, dark, but good,” you narrowed it down to two choices and took your phone. You had some calls to make. Not before you went and brought a glass of apple juice for Barbara though.

~X~

The August heat in Los Angeles wasn’t something you liked experiencing, especially when you were already feeling quite nervous standing in front of the building where Radio Silence Production office was. ‘Get it together, you know how these go,’ you berated yourself, you had a successful movie behind you, granted, you weren’t the one responsible for the success. And you had your current job, if this failed you were perfectly comfortable with not being an actress.

Even if Barbara would get on your nerves for it for the rest of your life.

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the role was actually perfect for you, as if written with you in mind. About as close to action as you figured most horror movies would get you, and your proficiency with martial arts was a huge bonus when combined with physically fitting the description of your character. You were a bit taller, but everything else fit well enough.

A bit too well in some ways. But first you needed to go through the chemistry testing with the actress they were considering for the role of Tara Carpenter, your love interest and the character around who the entire plot would revolve in some ways, since she was the sister of the main character and the victim of the first attack, setting everything in motion. Tara was to be the glue for the new main trio of her, her sister and your character, and from what you heard the actress, Jenna Ortega, already did an amazing job with the actress cast to play Sam Carpenter.

With another deep breath you went inside the building. The air conditioning immediately provided you with a much-needed relief as you made your way up the stairs, ignoring the elevator that was right there. A minute or two later you were in front of the office doors. You knocked twice and the door opened, revealing one of the directors of the movie, Matt.

“Come in, come in,” he certainly looked excited as he ushered you inside, you were ten minutes early, but it was clear you were the last one to arrive.

“Damn, should have gotten here earlier,” you rubbed the back of your neck uncomfortably, being the last to arrive, even if you did come here earlier than expected, was never fun.

“It’s all good, I was just telling Jenna about the scene the two of you will do together,” Matt motioned toward a beautiful girl that looked like she was one or maybe two years younger than you, dressed perfectly between casual and professional, and that seemed a bit familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you’ve seen her before.

You looked to the side as you tried to remember where you knew her from. She was sitting next to an older woman, you guessed mid or late forties, that looked a lot like her, so you assumed it was her mother.

“That’s a relief,” you approached the girl and offered your hand to her. “Y/N L/N, nice to meet you,” you smiled, too late realizing the mask hid your smile, as she stood up and accepted the handshake.

“I’m Jenna Ortega, pleasure to meet you too,” her handshake was firm, but even more than that, her voice finally made it click where you knew her from. They would really be dumb if they didn’t hire her, considering just how amazing she was in You season 2.

You nodded as Jenna sat down and offered your hand to the woman next to her as well. “Y/N.”

“Natalie, nice to meet you,” the woman nodded as well and you turned back to Jenna as you sat down on a chair to her left, with a seat between the two of you.

“You, right? Season 2?” you were about ninety nine percent sure you got it right. The emotional scene she had in the season was the highlight of it for you and it was mind blowing for you that she was basically still a child when she filmed it.

Her eyes widened and you winced, fearing you made her uncomfortable, but she recovered quickly and nodded. “Yes, thank you, I mean,” she buried her face in her hands. “God,” she whispered, clearly embarrassed.

“No, it’s all good, I was about to say you were great,” you tried, you really did, to salvage the first meeting, but when she still looked like she wanted the ground to swallow her to save her from embarrassment, you were kind of lost and unsure of what to do. Luckily, you were saved by Matt.

He faked a cough and gave you the scene you were meant to do with Jenna. It was one of the two scenes you did for your audition, the first being a bit of the action scene, just so they could be sure you were fit for the physical side of the role. As if working at the gym and teaching several martial arts classes wasn’t enough. “Jenna, Y/N, please move to the couch and the chair we set up, Jenna, you’re meant to start lying down, the relationship between your characters leans a lot on the touch, so do it as if you were filming the scene. Y/N, you’ve got water right behind you,” he instructed the two of you as you removed your masks and as if in an instant you saw a shift in Jenna, as if she was completely focused on the task, and nothing else mattered.

Matt, the other director Tyler, and several other people observed the two of you as you got into position.

“And action!” Tyler instructed you.

You sat, still, acting as if you were in deep thought, trying to get inside the mind of your character. It felt easy, natural, and you were reminded of just how much fun you had when acting before, and it felt so damn right to be doing it again. Even after all the time you spent resisting it once you had the chance to do it again it felt like all of that resistance vanished and you embraced the role. For your character the girl she was in love with just barely survived a vicious attack and she spent the last twelve hours sitting by the girl’s side, waiting for Tara to wake up,

Jenna groaned, and you jumped to your feet, but froze mid-step, your body filled with tension. You continued watching carefully as Jenna opened her eyes and as your eyes met you relaxed your posture.

She blinked a few times before she focused on you. “C/N,” she said your character’s name, prompting you to snap into action and fill a glass of water. You went back to Jenna, and she raised her neck, taking a few sips as you slowly tilted the glass for her.

“Easy, I got you,” you moved once more, kneeling on one knee next to the couch, your hand brushing against the back of Jenna’s right hand. She didn’t flinch away, but you saw the panic and fear in her eyes, and it took your breath away how into character she got. “Tara! Tara you’re safe!” you still moved, quickly reaching up to cradle her cheek. “Okay? You’re safe,” you softened the tone of your voice considerably, and the two of you remained like that, waiting for the slight pause in the scene to play out.

And then Jenna sobbed, with so much emotion you damn near felt the exact need to protect her your character felt for her character. “Please, don’t leave me,” her eyes filled with tears.

“I won’t. I swear I won’t,” you wiped her tears away, though it wasn’t a part of the script, you just felt like that was something your character would do, and much to your surprise Jenna actually leaned into your touch, playing along with your slightly improvisation.

“You promise?” she asked, her tone so vulnerable, filled with emotion and pushing you to be even better, to give even more of yourself. You felt it at that moment, the instant connection, the instant chemistry, the same way you did years ago with your co-star and semi-mentor.

“I promise. You’re stuck with me until you tell me to leave,” you smiled back as she smiled slightly.

“Could you help me sit up?” Jenna went on with the scene, and you nodded, helping her sit up with as much care as you could while getting into the position your character needed to be in. Jenna leaned the back of her head onto your left shoulder, and you opened your mouth, your eyes meeting hers. “Let me stay like this for a bit? Please?”

And it was truly an awkward position, but you hugged her from behind, your left arm just beneath her neck. “Is this okay?” you asked, and not just as your character. Sure, your characters were meant to be close, but you just met and more than anything you wanted her to be comfortable.

“Yeah,” she relaxed against you for a few moments. “Did they catch him?”

Everything was calm between the two of you. “Not as far as I know.”

Jenna turned, leaning closer and burying her face in the crook of your neck and you nearly flinched, as it wasn’t part of the script, though you couldn’t deny it did fit the description of the relationship between your characters. “I’m so scared C/N,” she whispered, her warm breath tickling your skin.

“I’m here. I won’t let it hurt you again,” you said, hugging her a bit tighter than before.

“Cut!” Matt exclaimed and the two of you separated immediately and you watched as Jenna slowly slipped out of character as she moved to sit on the couch with you. And then you both saw the approval on Matt and Tyler’s faces, which was a very good sign.

“Great you two! That was wonderful!” Tyler praised you and you turned to Jenna with a grin on your face, the previous embarrassment forgotten as you raised your hand for a high-five, which she accepted, her eyes shining with excitement, and a tiny bit of embarrassment over the praise.

You could see this movie meant a lot to her, and you were really happy you didn’t fuck it up, in fact, you were almost certain you’d be working together on it after a chemistry test this successful.

~X~

You let a few days pass, not really waiting for the call, but always keeping your phone close. Funnily enough you were in a similar position your character was in. You’ve been training, practicing various martial arts and you were at a bit of a crossroad, stuck between acting and pursuing a career in MMA. The only reason you didn’t try to be a professional MMA fighter was because Barbara and Tom, your actual manager, and most importantly Hugh, demanded that you at least give acting another shot before going down that path.

Getting a serious injury to the face and trying to restart your acting career wasn’t something anyone would advise you to do.

Still, you had a feeling you were forgetting something these past few days, like there was something you didn’t do and probably should have.

You just came out of the shower, fresh after an average solo training session, when you phone rang. It was Tim, and since he was calling, and he very rarely called, preferring to text instead, you figured it was either really good, or really bad news. “What’s up?” you asked as you walked over to your sofa and grabbed a TV remote. Might as well watch something to pass time.

“You might want to pack your bags,” he certainly sounded happy. “You’re heading to Wilmington, you got the role in Scream 5!” he exclaimed and you almost dropped your remote with how happy he sounded. “Welcome back to acting X-23,” he joked and you laughed at that.

The movie you did years ago, Logan. And the reason why no one really recognized you, they all thought you’d be much younger than you were. The truth was, you filmed Logan back in 2013 and the start of 2014, but since several X-Men movies were yet to be released and spacing them a bit made money, combined with the decision that Logan would be Hugh’s last time playing Wolverine the movie got pushed to 2017.

Still, it was one hell of a starting point.

You still rolled your eyes at that. “Looking forward to it,” and you did. If the chemistry test with Jenna was any indication you were in for a really good experience. “Well, better start packing,” you figured and said your goodbyes to your manager.

About an hour later you got a notification on your phone and glanced at it. It was simple, Jenna Ortega has requested to follow you from Instagram. Your eyes widened and you smacked your forehead, so that’s what you’ve been forgetting to do. Well, you did have a private account so- ah, what the hell, you were just looking for excuses as you quickly accepted the request and followed her back.

And so you sat back, wondering if you should send her a message, congratulate her on getting the role because you were a hundred percent sure she got it. Or if you should just say hi, or anything really, and as you sat there, looking at the empty messages and wondering what you should do while the music played on TV you saw Jenna typing.

“Shit!” you cursed and exited the messages as if having Jenna immediately see ‘seen’ on the message would mean being caught doing something you shouldn’t be doing. You lowered your phone onto the table and watched it like a hawk, resisting the temptation to see if she was still typing, but minutes later your screen didn’t light up and you raised an eyebrow at that. She changed her mind?

And now you felt guilty because it felt like you knew something you shouldn’t. So, swallowing your pride and ignoring the slight fear you decided to send her a message after all.

18:21 Y/N L/N: Hey, sorry you had to follow me first, I’m not really all that active here

There, you sent it, nice, simple message. Nothing to worry about.

18:22 Jenna Ortega: Hi! It’s fine, don’t worry about it! I was thinking, I mean if you don’t have anything planned, maybe you’d like to meet up and get to know each other over a lunch?

Your jaw dropped for a moment, but when you thought about it, it really was a logical move, you should spend some time together before acting as characters that were supposed to be best friends turned lovers.

18:23 Jenna Ortega: No pressure, I understand if you’re busy!

You bit the inside of your cheek at that, she was backtracking because you took too long too answer after reading the message.

18:23 Y/N L/N: I do want to meet up!

18:23 Y/N L/N: I was a bit surprised, but it makes sense. Where do you want to meet?

~X~

In the end you agreed to meet up in Los Angeles where Jenna was wrapping up filming another movie. You managed to resist Googling the younger girl, wanting to hear it from her instead of going in knowing things about her. But you did hear her name popping up every now and then, a young, extremely talented actress that wasn’t even eighteen, hard-working and wonderful to work with.

A child actress, you knew that much without having to search for information on the internet. She decided to do it, to basically sacrifice regular childhood in favor of going to work. You felt lots of things regarding that, but you wanted to get to know Jenna better before you decided which of those many feelings prevailed.

You stood near the doors of a small diner Jenna recommended to meet up at, waiting for her. You were a bit nervous and ended up arriving twenty minutes earlier than you agreed to meet up. You could have gone in, ordered a drink, found a way to pass time inside instead of out in the street, but you just simply didn’t. Instead, you opened your phone and began reading ‘The House of Voices’ the book the script that caught your interest was based on. You were still in the talks for that movie, and if you got the role filming wouldn’t start for some time, so there wouldn’t be a scheduling issue.

You still wanted to get familiar with the source material. And the book was good, so that was a bonus.

You barely read a couple of pages when the sound of someone clearing their throat caught your attention and you looked to the side to see Jenna there, fifteen minutes early, dressed in a casual white T-shirt and plain jeans. Not a lot different from the casual clothes you chose to wear. “Hey,” you smiled, putting your phone away, only to realize you weren’t sure if you should offer her your hand or go for a hug.

Luckily, Jenna, either on purpose or by accident, solved that problem for you when she stopped forward, smiling shyly with arms spread slightly, inviting you in for a hug. “Thanks for agreeing to meet up,” she said as you hugged her. Her hold on you wasn’t too tight, but it wasn’t loose either, it wasn’t forced.

“Of course,” you replied and motioned toward the door when you separated. “Shall we?” you asked, making Jenna quickly nod. You smiled as she turned away, clearly more nervous than you anticipated she would be. You weren’t sure what about you caused her to be so nervous, but, you figured she just needed some time, so you let her lead the way into the diner and choosing seats near the corner, just to give both of you some extra privacy. Which wasn’t that difficult, seeing as the diner was almost empty. The soft melody of a violin playing seemed to soothe her as you both sat down.

“Did you wait for too long?” Jenna asked as you both got comfortable, the diner went for more casual and comfortable seating, going for sofas and lower tables instead of usual chairs.

You shook your head at that. “Just a few minutes, don’t worry about it,” especially since she came early as well.

Jenna nodded, not even bothering to hide the relief on her face as you said that. You decided even that early into knowing her, that she worried too much. You arrived early and you were aware that you were early. Any waiting that could have happened was on you.

A waitress approached the two of you and you both ordered, Jenna deciding on baked beans and you going for a risotto.

“Weather is much nicer here,” you suddenly said, glancing outside the window toward the clear sky before turning back to Jenna. “Denver’s been a bit cloudy these past few days,” you explained and watched as Jenna’s eyes widened a bit.

“You came here from Denver?” she asked, almost sounding astounded by that discovery. “I’m so sorry, I thought you’d still be in a hotel or something!” she quickly apologized, but you just shrugged.

“Hey, I accepted to come here, didn’t I? It’s all good,” you couldn’t do much more than just try and reassure her with your words.

Jenna just groaned and lowered her head. “It’s just, since so much is happening here I thought you’d be living close to here, make connections, make it easier to book auditions,” she explained and it made sense to you.

There was one thing she didn’t know though. “Oh, I’m not really working as an actress at the moment,” you admitted and were honestly a bit amused by how quickly she looked at you. “Well, I was, I did a movie as a child, figured I could wait until I grew up and now I’m sort of trying to get back in,” you summed it up.

Jenna nodded, looking a bit regretful when she heard you say that. “Sometimes I wish I made that choice too,” her eyes widened, as if she didn’t expect to reveal that. “I mean, I’m extremely lucky to be doing this, but there are some downsides.”

You could agree with that. You probably would have gone down the same path, if it wasn’t for one detail. “I nearly stayed as well, but then Hugh told me I didn’t have to rush it, that I should be a child first,” you explained, revealing bits about yourself that you didn’t usually speak about as easily as you did just now. You just felt like, since Jenna was so sincere, you owed her the same honesty.

The silence that followed was strangely comfortable, like two long-time friends just existing in each other’s company. Neither of you felt the need to rush the conversation. “So, horror?” you eventually broke the silence and started the conversation.

Jenna’s face immediately lit up with an almost child-like excitement and you leaned in subconsciously. “It’s just pure fun, you know. It’s this release, combining the thrill and fear, and everyone loves it. There’s passion, and deep understanding of what the story is supposed to be, that it isn’t meant to only provoke thoughts, but that it’s supposed to give people watching a relief from everyday worries, an escape of sorts. I, I think it ended up being an escape for me too,” she didn’t even seem to try to wipe off the grin on her face as you listened to her, completely focused on her words and soaking their meaning in. “Sorry, I’m rambling,” she apologized, blushing slightly as if she just caught herself doing it.

“Not at all. I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it from that perspective, but I can see it,” the fact that more often than not the villain was much stronger than the hero just worked, just made it more engaging. “We are kinda breaking the rules with our characters, aren’t we?”

Jenna thought it over for a moment and then nodded. “Now that you mention it, yeah. Tara survives the opening, while the scene pays homage to the flawless opening of the original,” she took a sip of her drink, buying some time so she could collect her thoughts. “And your character feels stronger than Ghostface, to the point of fighting two on one and still having an upper hand until they take my character hostage,” she pointed out.

“You’ve been a fan of these movies for some time, I’m guessing,” you paused, watching her nod at that. “How do those things make you feel?” especially regarding your own character.

Jenna didn’t bother hiding it this time, she just fell silent, and you could see she was taking her time, figuring out the way to word her answer. “It’s fresh, risky, but fresh. Ghostface has always been just a regular human with a knife, it’s plausible that someone trained would beat them. And Tara surviving just needs to happen for the plot to happen, so, you know,” she finished kinda sheepishly and you nodded smiling as the two of you continued talking for hours after that.

~X~

When Jenna came back to her hotel room that night it was already close to midnight, and you met up just a bit after three o’clock! She leaned back against the door of her hotel room, not even aware of the smile on her face as she closed her eyes. She had to admit she was worried about spending a portion of her day off like this, but not only did she spent more time with you than she anticipated, but she didn’t regret it one bit.

She pulled her phone out of her purse for the first time in almost nine hours and immediately wished for ground to swallow her whole. All the excitement and fun of the day just vanished into thin air, replaced by anxiety squeezing at her heart. She couldn’t even count the number of missed calls and texts from her family and Enrique, as well as Maddie. She took a deep breath, calming down her anxiety and calling her mom. For a moment she considered calling Aliyah, and letting her spread the news that she was fine, but she knew she had to reassure her mom herself.

“Jenna Marie Ortega, you’ve shortened my life by a decade!” her mom immediately shouted, and Jenna honestly couldn’t blame her. When she met up with Maddie before the movie they met up early and while they spent more time together they separated at a much earlier hour. This time Jenna didn’t even consider taking the time to call anyone while she was with you.

“Sorry!” she quickly apologized. “I’m fine, I promise, we just lost track of time,” she said sheepishly. And you did, the diner closed at ten and you really should have gone separate ways at that point, but Jenna offered you a walk, which ended up taking you both to a park.

“God help me, Jenna,” her mom sighed, but she could hear the immeasurable relief in her mom’s voice, and her guilt seemed to increase tenfold due to that.

“If it makes you feel any better, she walked me back to the hotel,” Jenna offered, remembering how you insisted on walking her back to the hotel, refusing to let her walk alone this late at night, and promising you’d send her a message when you came back to your hotel room. You parted ways with a hug, firmer than the one you had when you met up. Longer as well.

“I’m guessing it went well?” as if the time she spent with you wasn’t the answer to that question already.

She smiled once more, remembering just how often you made her laugh today, how many times you made her feel heard and seen with each topic either of you started. Going back and forth, discussing different ideas, talking about childhood. She found out you were an only child, but not much else about your family. But you did tell her about your experience as a child actress for a bit. And only then did Jenna realize she forgot to ask which movie you were in. A question for another day, she supposed. “I can’t remember the last time I had such a good time,” she easily admitted, feeling excited to work with you and eventually get to know you even better.

Her mom softened up at that, there was no doubt about it. “I can hear it in your voice,” she pointed out. “Don’t stay up too late, okay? I’ll tell everyone you’re fine, I love you,” and Jenna was thankful for that, she really wanted to go to sleep as quickly as possible.

“Thanks mom, love you too,” she hung up and smiled when her phone buzzed again.

23:57 Y/N L/N: Safe and sound. Sleep well, Jen

Jen… She just now noticed that at some point during the day you began calling her by a nickname.

She was worried about Scream. She was worried about the opening scene, about living up to what they were trying to do, and she was still worried about that. But this, meeting up with you, it eased her bigger worries. You had a kiss together, you would be carrying her, not to mention all the scenes you’d have in bed, lying next to each other. So, she was worried about all of that, worried about not getting along with someone she’s supposed to film all those scenes with, to hug and be held, and to kiss with.

There was no need to worry about that. If today was any indication she would be more than comfortable with you on and off camera.

~X~

You arrived at the hotel a day before the shooting began, and you settled in, appreciating that the room had pretty much everything you would need. And though the hotel itself didn’t have a gym there was one nearby in case you felt the need, or more likely, had the time to get a workout in.

You sent Barbara and Tom a message, letting them know you arrived and that things were going well. There was no one else to contact, the directors knew you arrived, so you just pulled out the script you were given, the final script, and began reading through it. The role you got did, in fact, require at least the build of an MMA fighter, preferably with skills to back it up, you certainly had an intense action scene coming up.

What caught your attention was just how physical the relationship between your character and Jenna’s character was. In damn near every scene you read where your character was on screen Tara was also present, and every time there was some touch involved, be it holding hands or Tara leaning on C/N. So, they were absolutely right when they got Jenna and you to do chemistry read in person instead over Zoom or some other platform.

A knock on your doors made you set the script aside, about a third of the way read, and you got up to open the doors. The woman you saw in front of your doors looked absolutely beautiful, even more beautiful in person than in the Zoom meeting the entire cast had not too long ago.

“Hi, Melissa, right?” you still wanted to make sure.

Since her mask was hanging beneath her chin you saw the smile on her face. “Yeah, you’re Y/N?” you nodded at that. “Great, could you come with me to my room for a few minutes?” she asked, pointing behind her down and down the hall, and though you were a bit confused you nodded. She didn’t look like she came just to hang out or say hi.

“Of course,” with that you closed the doors behind you and followed Melissa through the halls. The hotel you were staying in had pictures hung on the walls, beautiful paintings, some abstract art, modern and more traditional, pretty much something for everyone, without a clear theme. Or, at least, you weren’t sure if there was a pattern. Granted, you just arrived and didn’t have time to observe it closely. Still, it was pleasant to see.

“So, I managed to find something out,” she said and you glanced toward her. “And I’ve been wondering if you’re interested in helping us out?” you still had no idea what she was talking about, but when you came into her room you found most of your costars close to you in age. Jasmin, Mason, Mikey, Jack, Dylan and Sonia were there.

“Hey there,” you raised your hand to greet them, though you definitely noticed Jenna wasn’t there. She probably didn’t arrive yet, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t really looking forward to seeing her again. “So, what’s up?”

“Jenna is turning eighteen on Sunday, so, would you like to help us make a bit of a party for her?” Melissa explained and you grinned.

“Count me in,” somehow the birthday dates never came up when you two hung out in Los Angeles, but you were more than happy to help with this. The time you spent with Jenna that day was easily one of the best days you had in a long time. You felt at ease, relaxed, there was no pressure, or any kind of judgment in her eyes. She was just accepting, a wonderful person and you couldn’t think of any you’d work on this movie with you’d rather do this for.

“Great, what can you do?” Mikey asked, and that got you thinking. What would be the best way to help with this surprise birthday party? Well, you knew your answer, the question was how much could you hide from Jenna?

“I can cook,” and that, funnily enough, got your costars laughing, after all that was one of the things your character did for a living.

Damn, now it felt a bit like the role was made for you, either way, you sat down and while Jenna was oblivious to what was happening in Melissa’s room all of you began making plans for Sunday.

A/N: I am still very much on the fence about this, but, here you go, the first chapter. Tell me what you think, and I dunno... Taglist? Yes? No?

Masterlist / Next part

[scoupsakakitty]

Drowning in Us | idol!Joshua x Reader | angst

The hotel pool shimmered under the dim glow of lanterns strung along the perimeter. The water was a deep sapphire, rippling faintly in the cool night air. Y/N stood at the edge, her bare feet curling slightly against the cold tiles. She hadn’t expected to see him here not Joshua.

He was alone in the pool, his dark hair wet and pushed back, droplets tracing a path down his sharp jawline. His arms rested on the edge, his head tilted back as he gazed up at the stars, seemingly lost in thought. He looked like a picture of peace, but she knew better.

Her heart clenched painfully, the same way it always did when she thought of him when she thought of them.

She shouldn’t do this. She shouldn’t go in. But the urge was too strong. The chance to finally confront him, to rip open the wound she had carried for so long, was too tempting.

She slipped out of her robe, revealing her sleek black swimsuit. The air was cool against her skin as she took slow, deliberate steps toward the water. Joshua didn’t notice her at first, too absorbed in whatever thoughts he was drowning in.

The water was warm as she slid in, and the slight splash caught his attention. His head jerked up, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. It was as if her name carried a weight he wasn’t ready to bear.

“Joshua.” She met his gaze, her tone steady despite the storm raging inside her.

He straightened, pulling his arms off the edge, his body tensing as if preparing for a fight or maybe an escape. “What are you doing here?”

“Same as you, I guess,” she said, moving closer. Her movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator closing in on its prey. “Trying to clear my head.”

He looked away, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “There are plenty of other places for that.”

Her lips curved into a small, bitter smile. “But none as interesting as this one.”

They were silent for a moment, the only sounds the faint hum of the pool’s filters and the occasional chirp of a night insect. Y/N moved to the middle of the pool, the water lapping at her shoulders as she stopped a few feet from him.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” she said finally, her voice cutting through the silence.

He stiffened, his hands gripping the edge of the pool. “I haven’t.”

“Don’t lie to me, Joshua. We both know that’s not true.”

His eyes darted to her, then away, as if looking at her for too long might break him. “It’s better this way,” he said quietly.

“Better for who?” she demanded, her voice trembling slightly. “You? Because it sure as hell hasn’t been better for me.”

He flinched at her words, his jaw tightening. “Y/N, please—”

“No,” she interrupted, moving closer. The water rippled around her, her presence as undeniable as the ache in his chest. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to walk away and pretend like I never existed.”

“I’m not pretending,” he said, his voice low but firm.

“Aren’t you?” She tilted her head, her gaze piercing. “Then look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t think about me. Tell me you’re over me. That you’re happy with her.”

His breath hitched, and for a moment, he couldn’t look at her. His silence was louder than any confession, and she felt both a pang of satisfaction and a wave of sadness.

“That’s what I thought,” she said softly, her voice tinged with bitterness.

He turned to face her then, his eyes dark and unreadable. “You don’t understand, Y/N,” he said, his voice almost pleading. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” she shot back. “You either love her or you don’t. You’re either over me, or you’re not.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his body evident. “It’s not that black and white,” he said, his voice strained. “I—I care about her. She’s good to me. She’s—safe.”

“Safe,” Y/N repeated, the word tasting bitter on her tongue. “Is that what you want, Joshua? Safe?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze dropping to the water.

“Because I don’t think that’s what you wanted when you were with me,” she continued, her voice softer now. “We were messy and complicated and… and real.”

“Maybe that’s the problem,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible over the gentle lapping of the water. “Maybe real is too much.”

She stared at him, her chest tightening. “Too much for who? For you? Or for her?”

His head snapped up, his eyes locking onto hers. For a moment, he looked like he wanted to argue, to deny it, but the words wouldn’t come.

“Are you happy with her?” she asked suddenly, her voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

He hesitated, his mouth opening as if to answer, but no words came out. He turned his face slightly, avoiding her gaze.

“Joshua,” she pressed, her voice more insistent. “Are you happy with her?”

Still, he didn’t answer, and his silence made her heart clench painfully. She took another step closer, her movements careful but deliberate. “Answer me.”

He finally exhaled, his head dropping slightly, he shook his head.

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. Her voice softened as she whispered, “Why?”

She moved closer, until the water was the only thing separating them. Her hand reached out instinctively, brushing a tear that had slipped down his cheek. He closed his eyes at the contact, his breathing shaky.

“Why, Joshua?” she asked again, her voice trembling.

His hand shot up, wrapping around her wrist. Gently, but firmly, he pulled her hand away from his face, his grip lingering for a moment before he let go. His chest rose and fell as he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

“Because she’s not you,” he said finally, his voice breaking.

Her eyes widened slightly, her heart pounding in her chest.

“She’s not you,” he repeated, his voice raw. “She doesn’t make my heart race when she walks into a room. She doesn’t challenge me, doesn’t make me feel alive the way you do. She doesn’t laugh like you, or smile like you, or look at me like I’m the only person in the world.”

His voice grew softer, almost a whisper. “She’s everything I thought I needed. Everything safe and simple. But she’s not the person I can’t stop thinking about at night. She’s not the person I see when I close my eyes.”

Tears welled up in Y/N’s eyes as his words sank in. “Joshua…”

“I thought staying away from you was the right thing to do,” he continued, his voice shaking. “I thought if I could convince myself to move on, to love her, I could stop hurting you. But I’m still hurting you, aren’t I?”

She nodded silently, her throat too tight to speak.

“And I’m still hurting too,” he admitted, his voice breaking. Another tear slipped down his cheek, and this time, he didn’t stop her when she reached up to wipe it away.

They stood there in the water, the world around them fading away. It was just them, their pain and their love, laid bare under the dim glow of the lanterns.

“Then stop,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Stop running. Stop pretending. Just… stop.”

He stared at her, his heart aching with everything he wanted to say, everything he wanted to do.

But he knew one thing.

He still loved her.

And he always would.

Joshua’s grip on her wrist loosened, and for a moment, he let himself simply feel the warmth of her touch, the way her presence seemed to pull him in like gravity.

But then reality came crashing back.

“I can’t,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he took a step back, the water rippling between them. “I want to, Y/N. God, I want to. But I can’t.”

Her heart sank as the space between them grew, her hand falling to her side. “Joshua…”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “I can’t give you the pieces of me when I’m already broken.”

She stood there, frozen, as he turned and climbed out of the pool. The cool night air hit his damp skin, but it was nothing compared to the cold settling in his chest.

Joshua stopped at the edge of the pool, his back to her. “You deserve someone who isn’t afraid to love you the way you deserve to be loved.”

And with that, he walked away, leaving Y/N alone in the water, her tears blending with the ripples around her.

As she watched him disappear into the night, a quiet resolve settled in her chest. She had come here to find closure, but instead, she found something else a truth she couldn’t ignore.

She loved him. But maybe it was time to let him go.

————————————————————————————-

[childrenofcain-if]

AS THE WREN SHEDS HER FEATHER (ELIAS’S POV AFTER SEEING YOU OFF TO UNIVERSITY)

one of the servants unlocked the door to the manor and elias stepped inside, the peculiar quietness pressing down on him like an unexpected weight. it was strange—to be met with silence when he expected his little apple to come bounding downstairs or to be already lounging in the living room to greet him. he thought he’d have an easier time getting used to it, but now? he wasn’t so sure.

elias handed his tailor-made suit jacket to another servant, glancing at the framed picture on one of the mantles near the fireplace: you, as a young kid, perched on his shoulders, a grin lighting up your face. your mother’s arm is looped around his, a laugh in her eyes so identical to yours as she holds onto the two of you.

he could remember the day that picture was taken, but it wasn’t enough—just memories which grow blurry each day. so he went to his study, where he kept the home videos. the cabinet was hidden behind a stack of old books, almost as though he’d been trying to bury it. but tonight, with you miles away at yale and his heart feeling like it was suddenly too big and too heavy for his chest, he wanted to see her. he wanted to see both of you.

after a few minutes of sorting through the SD cards, he found one simply labeled, “to be remembered.” he slid it into the player, and the screen flickered, a bit staticky, before the familiar image of the manor’s living room filled the screen.

the camera was shaky at first, moving around as your mother laughed, “elias, you’re terrible at this. here, let me…” her hand appeared in the frame, reaching for the camera.

“no way!” elias’s voice, younger and far more cheery, filled with laughter, protested from behind the camera. “i’m the cameraman. you, mijn liefje, are the star.”

“oh, so you just get to sit back and watch, huh?” she teased with a fond roll of her eyes.

the camera settled, a little less wobbly, as elias zoomed in on you, toddling around with your hands outstretched for balance, your whole face lit up with excitement. you must have been barely two, still unsteady on your feet, wobbling a little as you reached for her.

“come here, sweetheart,” she said, crouching down to your level, arms open. “you can do it, just a few more steps.”

elias chuckled as he watched her coax you forward, a surge of warmth flooding his chest. he remembered how her face would soften every time she looked at you, the way her eyes would light up. and then he saw it again—how she laughed when you finally tumbled forward into her arms, her joy bubbling over.

the tape lurched forward in fits and starts, as if elias had just recorded whatever seemed meaningful at the time without thinking about how it would piece together later. the screen shifted to a birthday, candles on a homemade cake—your fifth birthday. you were wearing a crown made of a long balloon that you’d insisted on, sitting cross-legged at the table, and there were flecks of icing smudged on your cheeks. your mother was holding the cake, careful to keep it level, beaming as she leaned toward you.

“go on, make a wish!” she encouraged.

you closed your eyes so tightly, putting your hands together with exaggerated seriousness, lips moving silently as if asking the universe for something only a child could imagine. then, with a deep breath, you blew out all the candles in one go. the room erupted in cheers—your mother, your father, your kindergarten classmates, even some of elias’s business partners they’d invited over that day.

“what’d you wish for, apple?” elias’s voice asked from behind the camera.

“i can’t tell you, dada, or it won’t come true,” you said, grinning, eyes twinkling in the candlelight.

the camera lingered on your face, the pure joy and belief shining in your eyes. elias could remember how the moment felt then, with both of you so young and so certain that everything good could be held together just by love and laughter. he felt a pang in his chest, a memory too nostalgic to hold without pain.

the video cut to the christmas morning of 2009—your mother was filming this time, narrating with a chuckle as she zoomed in on the chaos of ripped wrapping paper and new toys scattered across the floor.

“look at this mess! who do you think is going to clean all this up?” she asked, mockingly stern, zooming in on you hiding behind the couch.

“dada!” you’d shouted, giggling as you peeked out from your hiding spot.

“wow, selling me out, huh?” elias’s younger self chuckled as he leaned into the frame, pretending to growl and chasing you around as you giggle and try to run away from him.

the frame then jumps to another clip of you in the center of the frame, small and wide-eyed, your tiny hands busy, your concentration fixed on hanging ornaments on the lower half of the tree. you were talking to yourself in that way only small children do, a quiet monologue about which ornaments went where and how important it was that they were balanced just right.

“that’s the glittery one!” your mother’s voice came through, rich with warmth and humor. the camera wobbled slightly as she adjusted the focus, trying to capture your handiwork up close. “are you sure it should go there?”

“mama,” you said, in that exasperated tone only a preschooler could muster, “i know where it goes.”

“oh, i see,” she laughed, the sound a warm, gentle ripple through the screen. she shifted the camera to capture elias as he stepped in, feigning seriousness, hands on his hips.

“is the decorating committee open to suggestions?” he asked, crouching down to your level with a grin.

“no,” you replied without missing a beat, making him chuckle.

he then reached over, lifting you off the ground in one swift motion, swinging you in a wide circle. you shrieked with delight, half trying to wriggle free, half clinging to him.

in the background, your mother could be heard laughing too, her voice just as bright and full of love as your giggles. as he lowered you back down, she moved closer, still holding the camera as she leaned in to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“who’s the little ornament expert now?” she murmured, voice so close, so impossibly tender. she kissed you on one cheek, and elias joined in, kissing you on the other, making you squirm between them, giggling with each kiss.

“stop, stop!” you squealed, caught between pushing them away and clinging to them. “you’re both squishing me!”

“we just can’t help it,” your mother said, a soft laugh trailing off as she kissed you again. “you’re so loved, my sweet baby, you know that?”

elias’s voice was quieter but equally warm as he added, “we love you so, so much, little apple. more than anything.”

he pressed another kiss to your cheek, lingering, his voice almost catching, as if he was holding onto the moment where he truly felt like he was the richest man on earth.

elias hit pause. the screen froze on her face—her smile bright, eyes crinkling at the edges. he swallowed hard, feeling the tears well up before he could stop them. the years had done nothing to soften the edges of her absence. the house still echoed with her laugh some days, in small ways that felt like nothing and everything. he let the tears fall, a quiet acceptance of how deeply he still missed her.

finally, he pressed play again, as if he couldn’t bear to stop watching. he watched you grow through that grainy screen: you with your first lost tooth, your first day at school, your proud insistence on making dinner—omelette burnt to a crisp that elias and your mother had eaten anyway, praising every bite.

and then the last video came, a quiet day at the beach. the camera showed you and your mother on the sand, the waves lapping at your feet. she held your hand as the wind whipped through her hair, her smile soft and quiet as she watched you point excitedly at the seagulls swooping overhead. she bent down, saying something to you that he couldn’t quite hear over the sound of the waves, but he remembered the feeling of that day, of everything feeling just right in that one moment, sun dipping below the horizon in a blaze of color.

he watched as the sun began to sink lower in the video, casting a warm orange glow across the sand. and then she looked back at the camera, at him, her gorgeous eyes meeting his through the lens.

“come here, darling,” she called, beckoning him with a smile.

the camera dropped slightly as he walked toward her, and for a moment, all that was visible on the screen was a blur of sky and sand. then he set the camera down in the sand, angled just so, and the three of you were together, laughing as you stood side by side, the waves lapping at your ankles, the horizon stretching endlessly behind you.

and then, just like that, the tape ran out, the screen going to static.

elias sat there in the silence, his chest tight, the memories pressing in on him, so beautiful and aching all at once. he hadn’t let himself revisit these moments in years, too afraid of what they’d stir up, but now the memories felt as vital as air. he could almost hear her voice, feel the weight of her hand on his shoulder, see the way her eyes had softened every time she looked at you both.

he leaned back in his chair, one hand covering his mouth as he closed his eyes, letting the repressed emotions wash over him. the tears spilled over, hot and unbidden, the kind that left him feeling vacant and full at the same time.

he never cried in front of you like this, too afraid that it’d break the fragile tape that held the dam of your devastation upright. but now, elias didn’t even try to wipe the tears away. he let himself feel it all, the bittersweet ache of love and loss, the memories that filled the empty spaces your mother had left behind.

the silence seemed different now though, less hollow, filled with echoes of laughter and whispers of promises he’d made, long ago, to keep always keep going—for you, and for her.

[devnmon]

dating sweet boy astarion core

SFW/NSFW

Astarion is one to always make sure you have the things you need to be comfortable on your travels. He even slips any extra scrolls he know will benefit you into your pack when you're not looking. And always reminds you how he admires you for making the hard choices on your journey together.

Your star learns how to appreciate a true loving touch because of you. Since then, he's grown touchy more than ever, practically craves it more than a fresh drink of blood.

When he feels safe with you, it's easier for him to be himself and that includes making skin to skin contact with you whenever he can. It's a type of security for him. To make it known how much trust he’s put into you.

Truly enjoys the moments at night before he rests his eyes, the domesticity of how calm and quiet you become when falling into a restful state.

He listens, intently. So intently that the minute you begin to open up to him he holds every detail close to his heart. everything you tell him about your past, the inbetween parts of your life leading up to where you were in that current moment with him. He feels luckier than life to be the individual you entrust with this part of you, with your love, with your life even at times. You're assured he has your back against everything the adventure throws at you. You just didn’t think one of the things thrown at you would be him.

He gets really flustered when you compliment him out of the blue. As in his cheeks turn pink and he brushes it off like nothing. But you reassure him no matter how many compliments it takes.

One thing I fully believe is that he would definitely be the type to pay close attention to what fabrics you admire in the many shops you pass through, only wishing you had enough gold to pay for something nice for yourself. Only to surprise you with a custom made outfit with precisely picked fabrics and tones for you.

Absolutely loves when you read to him in camp; not only does he love to listen to your voice, but he could just about sit there forever until you get tired.

Most definitely takes pride in watching you fight, whether that's speaking an incantation perfectly for a spell or striking a foe with your weapon, he's always one to shower you with praise afterwards.

Astarion is totally sure he's unworthy of your affection after everything he's done. You make him aware of the fact that he deserves you even so.

You first asked him if it was okay to play with his hair while you rested together after a battle. It was then you found the elf to absolutely melt under your soft touches. you're also the only person he allows to play with or touch it.

When you accidentally brushed against his ever so sensitive ears, he just about whined with a desire to chase more of the sensation from you. But in turn… you found out how riled up he could get from it and had to pick and choose when you'd take advantage of it. [more on this later tehe]

He loves to kiss your neck, but what he was surprised to learn is that he loves when his is kissed as well. Especially when you run your fingers over his adams apple. Just him learning how to accept a new form of touch that makes the hair on his skin stand tall.

He was always on the giving end of affection when he was forced to lure pretty things back for his master, but now that he's free, he learns to welcome your touches and receive them without hesitation.

When you wear rings for whatever reason, whether because you like them or for their arcane abilities, he loves to slip them off by way of his rogue skill, playing with them on his own fingers before you even notice. You usually have to give him a few kisses to get him to give them back.

Speaking of rings, once he realizes how much you mean to him, he slips away from camp and finds a jewelry shop, choosing a ring he felt would compliment your style and one he knew he'd love to see you wear for him every day. Like a reminder of the bond you two share. Once he gifts it to you, you're so enthralled that you take off one of your random ones you thought was pretty, and give it to him without hesitation. Perhaps it was one that could always locate him or give him an extra boost in battle. Either way, he would never take it off.

You like to make silly jokes about vampire myths, like ones about garlic and crucifixes to make him chuckle.

Astarion adores the little nicknames you give him, whether theyre a sweet petname or a non-serious one that you knew he liked to laugh with you at.

Always makes sure you're tucked into his body when you fall asleep next to him in camp. But when he's the one to fall asleep first, he wakes the next morning to your arms wrapped around his waist, making sure he's close to you.

Loves giving you forehead kisses. especially after battle when you run to his arms to make sure he's alright, nothing bruised, broken or cursed.

Astarion definitely has some very severe abandonment issues, so if you wander too far from him he's the first to reach out through the tadpole and ask where you've gone. When he does find you again he sticks to your side like glue, lacing your fingers together.

NSFW

Astarion would be the type to worry he wouldn't be able to hold out long enough in bed for you both to be satisfied. It's in the moment you both decide to take it slow during your first time. With you, Astarion learns how to control his body and hold out for as long as you needed him to. Because. He reaaallyyy likes you. He wouldn't want to get all worked up and expend himself before he'd even gotten the chance to touch you.

Considering Astarion's history, he would want to be dominant in the bedroom after not having control over his life and decisions for years. He takes pride in being in control and you simply let him because not only does it look good on him, but there's a certain flair in the way he smiles when you do exactly as he says.

Though after a while he finds being in charge most of the time gets him pent up in ways he can't begin to imagine. The two of you are intimate enough that he finds himself wanting you to take pleasure from him. He desires your dominating touch over him and hopes you'll agree when he asks you about it. So when you do, he's enthralled with excitement and practically itches with anticipation at first sight of dominance from you.

Astarion's ears are sensitive. It's not just the elven shape or vampiric hearing that makes them so, but he quite enjoys the way you softly touch and kiss them that it gets him riled up more than he can fathom. He once dreamt of you touching them during sex and woke up in cold sweats with a raging hard on.

Thus, he absolutely will whine involuntarily when you brush your fingers over them, either on accident while you're touching his curls or purposely.

He hasn't had someone touch him in a loving way in so long, and the first time you decide to have sex, it's an emotional and vulnerable thing for him. He may shed more than a few tears during and after, a statement that shows how his vulnerability shines through when he trusts someone enough.

Each thrust fills you with the devotion he carries in his heart, pledging himself to you over and over. When you praise as he brings you to the peak of your pleasure, it’s enough to make him moan just from that.

He tells you "i love you" when he comes, breathlessly as he ties your soul to his in an everlasting knot.

One night if you've indulged on a bottle of wine or two, he'll drink from you to quite literally get drunk off your blood. Not only does the closeness and intimacy of the act turn you on, but the way his lips suck against your neck has you grinding up against his thigh. He takes so much pride in the way your body responds to him.

The first night you touch him intimately, he's brazen with the sounds he makes since he's still trying to make sense of the fact that you want him like this… And it's because you love him that you want him to know how much you adore and see the good in him. It's something sentimental and sensual to you both at the same time.

You take your time when touching him not just because dragging it out pulls more godly sounds from him, but because you know the second he comes it's over for you. Astarion is of course going to tease and relentlessly drag your pleasure out the same way you've done for him.

On the terms of aftercare, Astarion strokes your hair and is one to ask if everything he did was alright with you. If he was rougher on you during sex, he would make sure you know he didn't mean any of the vulgar things he's said. That also goes along the lines of when he punishes you for teasing him or being reckless during battle. He's always concerned about your wellbeing and state in your afterglow. It looks exceptionally good on you when you know how much he loves and adores you.

[seeingivy]

heart to heart

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic

previous part linked here

--

sukuna realizes that he’s falling in love with you on the anniversary of his grandfather's death. it’s rather morbid, but he deems that it’s fitting. 

the more that he lingered on it, the more he realized it. that family – good and bad – was always going to hum in the background to the two of you. though he supposes that’s just because you grew up together, that somehow you were intertwined in all of each other’s firsts. 

first day of school, first basketball game, first funeral. 

the day itself isn’t one that sukuna likes to dwell on – a memory colored dark, pushed so hard into the deepest, darkest spots of his mind, that sometimes he only realizes the day has passed a week after the fact. regardless, whenever the realization comes to a head – on time or not – the regret is so suffocating he can barely breathe. 

it’s why he makes every effort to avoid you when the day comes to pass. it’s something that he does with everyone – ignore them like he has the plague. but it’s a little bit different when it comes to you. it’s not personal, he muses, but at the same time, it most definitely is. 

you’re central to the memory. 

sukuna’s sitting up, an idle text being sent to both yuuji and his mom, when the knock on the door comes. and he can feel pressure increase in his throat at the sight of you – his brain feeling heavy, this time in a different way – as you balance two mugs in your hand. 

if it was any other day, sukuna would have found it very difficult to contain himself. the messy bedhead, glasses perched on the edge of your nose, and the fact that you’re drowning in one of his dress shirts. 

sometimes he wondered if you did it on purpose. tried to rile him up just to see how he would react. though on second thought, he almost knows for a fact that you hardly understood what exactly it was that you did to him. how you made his skin feel like it was on fire. 

you sit across from him, setting both of the mugs down on the nightstand, before you press your fingertips to his collarbone and push him back on the headboard to use his body as a pillow. you can hear a scoff before sukuna’s hands tangle around your waist, his fingertips ghosting the waistband of what he recognizes as his boxer briefs. 

“you know, part of your whole freeloading in my apartment agreement was that you’d steal my shirts. not my underwear too.” 

you poke his chest. 

“freeloading? need i remind you, that you basically beg me not to leave each time i’m here. and i’m sorry. i spilled the first batch of hot chocolate i made all over my pajamas and my spares are in the laundry.” you state. 

hot chocolate. 

sukuna knows for sure that you must be doing that on purpose. and that maybe you watch him as keenly as he watches you, because you catch on to his discomfort just as fast. 

“i’m sorry if it’s too much.” you whisper. 

you watch his adam’s apple bob in his chest, as he leans his head back against the headboard and shuts his eyes. you trace little stars into his skin, right under the tattooed flesh as you try to talk, as softly as possible. 

like he’ll run off if you push too hard. 

“sukuna. i-i know that this day can be hard. but we can do whatever you want today.” 

“i have work.” he states. 

“no, you don’t. satoru told me you took the day off already. that you always take it off. and suguru asked me to take care of you.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes. idiots. 

“what about yuuji? knowing you two, you’ve probably got some whole orate tradition you do. probably use my headshot as a dartboard.” 

“it’s actually your yearbook photo.” you defend. 

sukuna smiles. 

“megumi and nobara have got him covered. i’m here for you.” you state. 

sukuna looks down at you, before quickly looking away. he can’t stand your eyes. 

“s’just another day, y/n. if anything, you should get the fuck out of my house. make sure my sensitive brother is fine.” 

sukuna watches your eye twitch. he feels bad, but swallows it down. 

you lift your hands up to cup the sides of his cheek, lightly rubbing your thumbs under his eyes until they open. his light brown eyes flicker to yours and the message comes off just as he intends it. 

don’t. 

sukuna should have known you’d be stubborn about it. 

“sukuna. s’not really fair if we have a power dynamic.” 

“i’m two years older than you. you are well of age.” he deadpans. 

“i mean. when i tell you about what’s on my mind – insecurities or-or my fights with yuuji or even mazzy – it’s not just spilling out of me because you’re my boyfriend. like i’m so emotional that i rant about my problems to everyone. it’s actually more natural for me to put it away. and i purposely don’t for you.” 

sukuna’s intrigued. 

“i’m trying to do this right. like, not withhold things from you because i know that you would hate that. the same way that i would hate it, if that’s what you were going to do with me.” you respond. 

you rest your cheek against his collarbone, before bending down to press a kiss into his skin. 

“s’not a nice feeling. the conversations we have make me feel like i’m standing naked in front of a classroom on display sometimes. but it’s –” you start. 

“that sounds like an ideal situation to me.” 

you pinch his bicep. 

“i mean. it’s not always easy to feel so bare. but i know it’s the right thing to do. and you kind of have to let me in too. i know it might not seem like that to you, because you fell into the caretaker role so quickly with me, but – i’m usually the one who does that type of thing, with everyone else. and i’m not half bad at it.” 

sukuna watched you take care of yuuji his whole life. in the moments that sukuna wasn’t there, he knows that you were the one sitting at his side. especially when he took off so fast like he did.

it’s partly the reason that he was able to do it. because he knew that yuuji would be taken care of – and well, too. but it almost feels wrong, too immature of him to go to you with his problems. 

how are you ever supposed to come to him again? 

“c’mon, baby. anything you want today. we can go back home and eat at the diner. or go to his grave. stay in the entire weekend…” you hum. 

it’s the first time that sukuna’s ever heard you use a term of endearment on him. he was never short of them, a constant cycle of his favorites – pretty girl, doll face, angel. it almost seemed wrong to call you by your name at this point, not when he could so openly express his affections and watch you smile at the fact. 

but sukuna likes it more than he wants to. being called baby. he never wants you to say anything else again. 

he always thought it was a little stupid, an infantile or immature nickname when he watched satoru call suguru as such. especially the way satoru always seemed to beam whenever he did it. he’ll be sure to swallow his retorts the next time. 

“i want to go to the sushi place. back home.” he states. 

you scoff. 

“oh my god. i went on my first date there. got felt up near that fountain.” you respond, scrunching up your nose. 

“i got a handjob near that fountain.” sukuna states. 

“ew. don’t tell me you….in the fountain?” 

he only grins in response. 

“ew, sukuna! you’re such a dog.” 

“i’ll have mai bring me a nice dress. we’ll go the whole ten miles on a fancy date, like everyone from high school. if you’re lucky, i might even let you touch my butt.” 

“could i be so lucky?” he asks. 

you pinch the side of his cheek. his response is pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

“do you have a pink dress?” he asks. 

“sure do. i’ll have her bring that one, okay?” 

--

sukuna drives you to the sushi restaurant. the ride into town is quiet. you’d almost think that sukuna was mad at you for pushing, but his warm hand resting on your thigh silences almost all the qualms in your head. 

when you make it there, the mere fact of being there with sukuna leaves you with an odd thought. that if things were different beforehand, you would have been fifteen standing there with him, instead of leaving the restaurant feeling oddly dissatisfied from a guy who really wanted nothing to do with you instead.

“sukuna. party of two.” 

“it’ll just be five minutes.” 

sukuna gives a kurt nod before dragging you to the other side to lean against the wall, his hand warm on your waist. you pick your brain at the best thing to say – his uncharacteristic silence brimming you with anxiety and making you particularly hyper-vigilant in choosing the right thing to say to him. 

"you're beautiful, you know that?" he whispers.

you fight the urge to smile so hard.

"thank you, sukuna. you're beautiful too."

he glares at you.

"you're shitty."

you smirk, before pinching the side of his cheek. of course that was his reaction.

"you're such a cutie pie little baby sometimes I just wanna-" you coo.

"shut the fuck up before I make you." he responds.

"ooh. so scary!"

“i came here for the first time with my grandpa. i'll even tell you about it if you stop being a little bitch for a second.” 

you stop.

“yes, sir. ” you respond, saluting. 

sukuna smiles in response and it makes your heart skip a beat. that and the fact that you swear you've never seen his eyes so soft.

“so basically –” sukuna starts 

“sukuna, y/n? is that you?” 

you look over to your left to find one of your old neighbors – so old that you can barely even remember his name – standing at your sides, excitedly waving at the two of you. 

“god, it’s been years! you two are so grown now.” 

“mr. soma.” sukuna responds.

you find yourself grinning ear to ear at the fact that one, sukuna’s tone is entirely displeased. and two, that there’s no pleasantry laced in with his words. 

“y/n. how is your dad? i haven’t seen him around in a while.” 

the taste in your mouth is metallic. 

“couldn’t tell you! i haven’t seen him either.” you state. 

his face pinches up, the pitiful expression that follows causing a subsequent clenching of your jaw. 

“sukuna. how’s your father?” 

“still a dick.” he states. 

you smile. the way he seems to flinch at the bluntness, at sukuna’s demeanor, is solace enough for the double dose of shitty dad comments. he gives you both a polite smile before skirting off, after an awkward round of small talk. university, work, yuuji and sammy and he's off.

you turn to sukuna, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“you okay?” 

“obviously. a dumbass with a shitty attitude won’t ruin my mood when i’m here with you. are you?” 

“me too.” 

sukuna smirks at you. 

“really? you're not internalizing every awkward experience that happens to you? have i entered a parallel universe today?” 

“i’m a mystery, idiot. you can spend forever trying to figure me out.” 

“planning on it.” he responds. 

sukuna splits all his sushi with you. if you like a certain plate, he almost refuses to touch it afterwards, just to let you finish all the pieces. and after you say you’re too full, he’s does the job for you – only because you say that you feel bad leaving it to waste when they took the time to make it.

it’s strawberry ice cream afterwards and he makes it very clear that it's only because it’s your favorite. you swing by the store when you get back into the city and eat straight from the tub on the kitchen island.

and over your shared spoon of dessert, sukuna’s voice is almost so quiet you can barely hear it. you think that the ice cold sensation curbs any warm anxiousness that would stop him normally from talking – and you thank your cravings for it.

“my grandpa was the first person who took care of me.” 

you press your cheek to his shoulder in response, rubbing circles into his palm as he talks. 

“I know it's a natural thing. that when you have a younger sibling, that it takes the attention away from you. i know logically that i had that attention, that i required it when i was a baby too.” 

"but?"

"but yuuji's so fucking likeable. i love the idiot and it feels like shit to admit, but i fucking hated that everyone almost forgot about me just because of him."

you pause.

“it’s hard not to like you too.” you state. 

“but you know what i mean. i liked taking care of him, until i didn't. he got older and...and sometimes it felt like he didn't even fucking care about half the things i did for him. at one point, i got sick of watching everyone fawn over him so much that it made me upset. i told my mom but...you know how she can be. didn't really register for her. ” 

you hum in response. 

“my grandpa must have noticed that i had a little bit of resentment towards him, especially when i was in eighth grade. started getting in fights and acting out and all that. and he brought me here. and-and i was pissed at him that i just started fucking yelling at him. about how he didn’t care about me and how i felt unwanted and under-appreciated and…and he agreed with me.” 

he pauses, bringing one of his hands up to your hair. 

“i like feeling appreciated. valued enough that someone will listen to me and actually believe it. that he wanted to be around me too.” he states.

you pause, your heart clenching so hard in your chest. your stomach nearly drops at the sentiment, at the memory that you can feel tears in your eyes. you’re murderous hatred for sukuna and yuuji’s dad only grows tenfold with every consecutive day – but feels particularly potent now. 

you immediately tilt your head up, in efforts to curb yourself from crying – when you’re the one who should be strong for him right now. he, of course, notices right away. 

“eh? what’s wrong with you?” 

“allergies.” 

“did you miraculously get stung by a bee in the past few seconds while we were sitting here?” 

you scoff. 

“you’re so obsessed with me. you even memorized my medical history!” 

“that was in no way romantic. god forbid i know a basic fact about you so you don’t like, literally die on me. now tell me what it is. you basically have to because my grandpa is dead, you know?” 

“are you really playing the dead grandpa card?” 

“the fact that you called it that was fucking offensive. now you have to tell me.” 

you roll your eyes. 

“i was just thinking about that day. it makes my heart break that you lost someone who made you feel understood. that you felt alone, even though we were all right there. i hope you know that i find it hard to drag myself away from you sometimes. you're like the only place i want to be." you murmur. 

the year before sukuna left, he got into fights often. you remember it vividly – the fact that his mom always seemed to be at your house crying to your mom, while you and yuuji lingered by the doorway for too long listening when you shouldn’t have. 

and he’d shuffle in hours later, a purple eye or bloodied knuckles – a wall of silence with zero explanation. 

but the worst part is that the one time he got in serious trouble, enough to constitute needing to be picked up from the police station, was cosmically the worst possible day it could have happened. 

because sukuna’s grandfather was already dead when you guys got the call. you had all been phoning him for hours and unbeknownst to you, the reason he didn’t pick up is because his phone had gotten taken away. and his mom, yuuji – they were so struck in their own grief that your mom had taken you and sammy with her to go get him. 

and now when you think of it – the thought of him sitting there all alone when you found him, the fact that he was sitting there feeling misunderstood made you cry. it was enough to know that you had all unleashed horrible news on him, but even worse to know you were the one to rip his grandfather away from his life. 

“i remember that you were the one who told me.” he states. 

you nod, affirming his memory. 

“you…you were all quiet. was kind of expecting your mom to give me an earful, about being responsible for my mom and yuuji. but she was just quiet. sammy didn’t even look at me. and when i saw you, you were crying. came up right by my side and apologized. you were the first person to give me condolences. made me hot chocolate when you got home because you didn’t know what else to do.” he states. 

“yeah. i wish i was more composed or…or could have at least said something better to you. and i still kind of suck with words but i…i hope this helps? at least a little?” you mumble. 

sukuna leans forward, curbing any follow-up sentiment you could have had with his lips. you can still taste the strawberry. you murmur against his lips – him pulling you back in every time you try to pull away. 

“did you kiss me to shut me up?” you ask. 

“do you want a cookie for figuring that one out, genius?” he responds. 

you lightly push his chest. 

“you’re such a dickhead! let me do the whole supportive, caring girlfriend thing. i can’t just leave you hanging, you know.” 

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“doll face.” he deadpans. 

you glare at him. 

“you are perfect.” 

you’re caught off guard. 

“i’ve never told anyone any of that before. never even met someone i’ve wanted to tell. quit fucking worrying yourself over whether or not it was good or bad. i’m half convinced that you could be my remedy to anything.” 

you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks at the praise. you bundle the fabric of his collar in your shirt before you pull him forward, pressing your lips to his as softly as you can. 

“someone feeling bold today?” he murmurs against your lips. 

his hand is warm on your face, cupping the side of your cheek. and when you lean forward, the warmth that surges through you is so deep that you think you might have kissed sukuna too hard. because now you’ve backed him up against the wall, your fingers quickly rushing down the buttons of his shirt. 

sukuna’s quick to stop you. hands warm on your wrists and brown eyes widened. 

“what are you doing?” he whispers. 

“oh. oh, i don’t know. it…it just kinda came over me. sorry. just like..felt super close to you there for a second and i felt it like…rumbling in my chest.” 

sukuna’s brings his forehead against yours. his eyes are pinched shut, almost straining, his breaths quiet. 

“i want to do something. but you have to tell me if it’s going to make you feel uncomfortable.” you ask.

“okay.” sukuna responds.

“don’t even think about fucking lying to me. i’ll know.” 

"yeah right."

“i mean it.” you grates. 

“just tell me.” he responds.

“okay, but-” 

“y/n l/n.” 

you pause.

“can you take a bath with me?” 

he pulls back. 

“what?”  

“a bath. suguru gifted us these bath salt and stuff. he said it was a gift for you. told me you like that kind of thing.” 

“he's always gifting some weird therapy shit to me.” he states.

"therapeutic." you correct.

“one day i’m going to curb your fucking attitude and you’re not going to like it one bit.” 

you smile. 

“i hate you. i’ll take my bath on my own then.” you respond.

he yanks hard on his arm. 

“okay. if it's uncomfortable, we get out.” 

you nod. you get in first, quickly leaing against the wall and hiding under the warm bubbles, as he follows suit. weirdly enough, sukuna's first instinct is to go to the other side, the farthest from you, but you stop by pulling on his wrist.

"c'mhere. just lean against me." you murmur.

it’s a little bit awkward at first. because sukuna's the one wound up instead of you.

“can you relax for me?” you whisper.

“right. sorry.” 

he leans back, your skin prickling, as he settles his head against your chest. he's looking up at you, his eyes fixed on yours, but you can’t help but stare at his skin - freckles and moles that you’ve never had the opportunity to notice sparkling his skin. 

“thank you.” he whispers. 

“for?” 

he scoffs.

“y/n.” he chides. 

“use your big boy words!” you coo.

“shut the fuck up.” 

“c’mon. you've got it in you.” 

“you know what i want to say.” 

“of course i do. i know you’re really glad that i have an innie belly button instead of an outie.”

sukuna nearly chokes on his spit.

“i beg your pardon?” 

“i know that outies freak you out. you don’t have to say it.” 

sukuna stops himself from saying it. 

that he's falling in love with you. 

it’s right on the tip of his tongue. but he knows that it’s too fast so he swallows it down. that and the fact that it would be fucking insane if he said that to follow up your stupid joke about inne and outie belly buttons.

“baby, we should really donate your brain to science. i think you could advance neuroscience fifty years into the future.” sukuna states. 

“take that back, asshole.” you respond.  

“make me.” 

you yank hard on his hair, before fixing your hands back in his locks and pushing the matted wet hair off of his forehead. sukuna leaves a kiss in your hands, before he seems to wander off somewhere else, almost like he's deep in thought.

you grant him the quietness. sukuna loves you even more for it.

--

next part linked here

an: ICK CHAPTER BUT WHATEVER

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[missaengg]

Under the Damn Mistletoe

13 Days Until Christmas: Mistletoe Made for Ikemen Advent hosted by @queengiuliettafirstlady and @candied-boys Featuring: Ikemen Villains Jude Jazza x f!reader Tags: fluff, light humor, jealous Jude Word Count: 1338

The streets bustle with a flurry of activity. Busy shoppers hurry from one store to another, their arms laden with bags and boxes of groceries and gifts. The ring of bells echo in the frosty air mingling with the shouts of shopkeepers bellowing their wares to the passing crowd. Somewhere off in the distance, the sound of Christmas carols floats along the raucous cacophony, a group of carolers entertaining the masses.

Amidst it all, you walk with Jude hand in hand, soaking in the holiday anxiety and cheer.

“Oh, Jude, look!” You point out the giant Christmas tree in the center of the square. 

It looms over the people scurrying past, its branches laden with various ornaments and tinsel. An ornate star glitters on the pointed tip.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” You pull him towards the tree. “Come on, Jude!”

“Too many damn people,” Jude sighs, exasperated, muttering a curse word or two under his breath. Despite his ire, he allows himself to be pulled along, following closely behind and glaring at anyone who gets too close.

The extensive list of items Victor’s asked you to grab sits in your pocket, but right now, you don’t care about the list. You’re enraptured by the gorgeous tree, the epitome of Christmas magic.

“Wow,” you gasp, buzzing with delight as you come to a stop in front of the tree. “It’s so big.”

“Don’t see what the big deal is. It’s just a tree, ain’t it?” Jude grumbles, but his arm wraps around your shoulders, securing you against his side.

Your eyes travel up the tree, all the way to the top where strings of light extend from the center of the square to the buildings nearby. You marvel at the sight, following one of the strands until they fall upon a little sprig of green hanging above your head – a sprig of mistletoe tied together with a red ribbon.

Feeling mischievous, you grin and glance at the man beside you. His wary amethyst-colored eyes scan his surroundings, constantly darting about the moving crowd – a necessary hypervigilance when it comes to Jude due to the sheer number of people who want to harm him in revenge. However, unlike the intimidating expression on his face, the tip of his nose and the apples of his cheeks are tinged a rosy pink from the cold making him look more silly than surly – just adorable enough to kiss.

Giggling, you stand on your toes and plant a tiny peck on his cold-burnt cheek.

“Hah?” Jude utters, his sharp eyes flicking from the crowd down to your cheeky grin. “The hell was that?”

“Mistletoe. It’s tradition,” you state, pointing up. 

His eyes follow, narrowing when they see the little bundle of green. He scowls, glaring at the plant so fiercely, it’s a wonder the mistletoe hasn’t withered and died right that very second. So fiercely, you feel a nervous twinge in your heart and knots in your stomach.

“Jude?” you tentatively call out.

While it’s true that Jude wasn’t pleased when Victor roped him into running errands and that his mood worsened throughout the day, going from shop to shop while fighting the crowds, he’s never gotten upset when you’ve kissed him before, even if he did use it to tease you mercilessly.

You don’t understand.

Is it that he just simply doesn’t like mistletoe? Or is it that he doesn’t like public displays of affection? But that doesn’t make sense considering how his arm is around your shoulder… Or is it that maybe he just doesn’t want you to kiss him?

You don’t know, but whatever the reason, you’ve seemingly upset him.

“Jude, what’s wro–” you begin to ask, but before you can finish your question, Jude roughly grasps your hand, crushing your fingers.

Your body jerks to the side as he strides away, your feet stumbling as they try to keep up with his rushed pace, almost tripping in the process. He drags you down a dark alley, only stopping when you’ve gone so deep, the glow of the evening sun barely illuminates the corner and not a single soul is present. It’s the kind of deep alley where one could yell for help, and no one would hear them.

“Jude,” you yelp, startled when he shoves you against the building, towering over you with his palms against the wall, effectively caging you in, a dangerous displeasure gleaming in his sadistic, purple eyes.

Involuntarily, you gulp. Deep in your heart, you know with certainty that Jude would never hurt you, not out of malice and not without your consent, but your heart thumps painfully in your chest and your body trembles because of the sheer fury radiating from his entire being – fury that’s directed at you.

Why’s he so angry over a small peck on the cheek anyway?

An indignant anger floods you, chasing away the confusion and fear coursing through your veins.

It’s not like you did anything wrong. All you did is show him some affection because of the mistletoe and it’s cute and that’s what you do with your lover. Do your actions really deserve this much of his ire?

You frown and straighten your shoulders. You take in a lungful of air, and just as you’re about to ask what exactly is his problem, his lips crash onto yours, his tongue unceremoniously shoving its way into your open mouth.

“Mm..!” Your eyes fly wide open. Your hands shove at his shoulders, but no matter how hard you push, Jude refuses to yield.

His kiss is urgent, demanding, and ferocious. A gnashing of lips, teeth, and tongue. The words you were going to say die in your throat, replaced by a scorching heat blooming deep in your belly. Your fingers curl into his coat. Your eyes close. He deepens the kiss into a dizzying whirlwind muddling all your senses.

When Jude finally pulls away, you blankly gaze at him in a daze. His chest heaves with every breath he takes, and his eyes bore into yours with a dark intensity, one that makes your heart throb incessantly.

“Tch… Ya get so excited when I kiss ya,” Jude growls. “Is that whatcha want? To make that lewd face fer anyone to see like some kinda pervert?”

His words cause you to come crashing back to reality.

That’s not fair. If you have a lewd expression on your face, it’s because of him. He’s the one who just assaulted you with his lips in this seedy alleyway! 

“And who’s fault is that?” you snap incredulously.

“Don’t go kissin’ me in public and showin’ other men that indecent face of yers,” Jude says, his voice husky and low. His fingers come to your cheek, stroking it with a clumsy tenderness.  “That face yer makin’ is just fer me. Ya got it, Princess?”

Bewildered, your mouth drops open. It finally dawns on you why Jude was in such a snit after you pecked him on the cheek. It’s not because he doesn’t like mistletoe or public displays of affection, it’s because he’s jealous.

You almost laugh out loud.

This new knowledge you’ve just learned about Jude tickles your heart. Beneath the harsh exterior, you can see his possessive fondness peeking through, and it’s endearing. It fills you with a gooey joy that makes you want to kick your legs and squeal. It makes you want to melt.

Feeling a bit devilish, you can’t help the rising urge to tease him just a little, to take advantage of this rare opportunity to best him for a change. Popping up, you press a quick kiss to his lips and then gleefully dash away from down the alley towards the main street.

“Hah..?” You hear Jude let out a flustered sigh from behind you.

His footsteps clamor after you, growing closer and closer even though you’re sprinting at full speed. It’s just a matter of seconds before he catches you and makes you pay for teasing him, but you don’t regret a thing. 

It was worth it.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Need Me Most

Jeongin x Reader (implied female but can be read as gn!)

Pt1 Pt2 Pt4

MASTERLIST

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

The following days were thick with an uncomfortable silence between you and Jeongin.

He noticed. Of course, he noticed.

The way you carefully avoided his gaze, the way you skipped over his presence as if he weren’t there, cutting through the atmosphere like a wound that hadn’t fully healed. He could sense something had shifted, something that left you uneasy and guarded, but he could only assume it was his fault.

It had to be because he confessed.

I messed everything up, he thought bitterly, replaying the moment in his head.

He hadn’t meant for the words to slip out so casually, hadn’t meant to burden you with his feelings.

But how could he have not fallen for someone like you.

He loved you.

So much.

And he wasn't afraid to admit it.

He wasn't afraid that every time he saw an apple he thought of the smell of your shampoo. Everytime he passed a bakery he made a mental note to see if they had cheesecake so he could sruprise you. Everytime he saw a cute stuffed animal he imagined what your smile would look like if he were to gift it to you.

The sea, the sky, the stars- everything reminded him of you.

And now he was sure- convinced -that you didn’t like him back. Why else would you treat him this way? Why else would you act like he didn’t exist while still laughing with the other members, as though nothing had changed?

But for you, everything had changed.

You hadn’t spoken to Jeongin since the day he fought your ex, a messy brawl that ended with bruises and company discipline. At the time, you couldn’t stop trembling, your heart torn between gratitude and guilt, the confusion tangling your emotions into knots.

Jeongin had gotten in some trouble with the company, but not as much as you’d feared. After all, his actions were justified in their eyes- the news of your ex's betrayal, the public fallout, and the toxic rumors spread by sasaeng fans and the physical violence enacted towards you would have been enough to provoke anyone. But you still couldn’t shake the weight of it.

And now…now Jeongin was doing anything in his power to get you to notice him.

You had gotten some payout from the company to keep quiet about the incident, and decided to move to completely remote work in your company, since you felt even more alone surrounded by people who didn't know you. And preferred to at least be around some who did.

You helped Chan with some of his organizational things as well; so now you were around the JYP building much more- of course after the elder boys asked for permission.

And it made Jeongin elated.

He wasn't going to give up. He would get you to talk to him again.

The sweet, thoughtful gestures didn’t go unnoticed- he’d bring you coffee in the morning, even though you’d barely nod in his direction.

He’d leave small notes or text you from across the room, saying things like, Just making sure you’re okay or You seemed tired today. Want to talk? But you never replied. You couldn’t bring yourself to.

Because you thought it was your fault.

You were the problem. You were the one who drew chaos into the lives of the people around you. The ex who cheated on you with a trainee-your ex. The scandals, the sasaengs, the headlines that tore into Jeongin, too- your fault. All of it. Because you loved and were loved.

Because after thinking about it for a little, you realized just how happy you had been to hear those words fall from his pink lips.

Lips you had now imagined yourself kissing at least a hundred times.

You wondered how they would taste- how they would feel, would they be warm and gentle and perfect?

Love was supposed to be something beautiful, something pure, yet every time you allowed yourself to fall into it, something broke. Someone hurt. And you couldn’t let that happen to Jeongin. He deserved more than whatever cursed, tangled thing you called love.

But he didn’t see it that way.

One evening, Jeongin found you sitting alone in the practice room, your knees pulled to your chest as you stared blankly at the mirror in front of you.

You had had a rough day, seeing articles about your ex and his mistress leaving the company.

While you hated him for what he did, you didn't think it would absolutely ruin his career.

Or the female trainee's career.

You had heard it was Channie who had helped in the background to get them canned. And it hurt to think you brought him into your issues as well.

You really, were a problem.

Jeongin hesitated at the door, unsure whether to come in or give you space considering you seemed deep in thought, but his heart ached too much to stay silent any longer.

He stepped inside, his footsteps echoing in the empty room.

"You’re avoiding me," he said softly, but there was an edge to his voice- raw, frustrated. He wasn’t angry with you, but he couldn’t help the emotions that simmered just below the surface. "Why?"

You glanced up at him briefly, then back down at the floor. "I’m not avoiding you." Your response was simple and Jeongin hated that he couldn't hear your beautiful voice more than just this.

"Yes, you are." He took another step forward, his brow furrowed in concern and frustration. "You haven’t talked to me in days, Y/N. Not really. You haven’t… you haven’t even looked at me." He sighed and his voice grew quiet. "I didn't mean to confess like that...I...if I knew that it would ruin our friendship than I would have kept it to myself. You can forget I ever said anything just...please..."

Silence stretched between you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze, the pain in his voice. And it hurt you that you had given him that pain.

You closed your eyes, exhaling slowly. "I don’t want to hurt you, Jeongin."

"Hurt me? How would you hurt me?" His voice cracked, and he knelt in front of you, trying to catch your eye. "You could never hurt me, Y/N."

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the wave of emotions building inside you. "You don’t understand. Everything…everything bad that’s happened- it’s because of me. The cheating, the sasaengs, the fights, the rumors. Even what happened to you. You got into trouble because of me."

"No, Y/N, that’s not true," he argued, shaking his head, his eyes searching yours desperately. "None of that is your fault."

"But it feels like it is!" You raised your voice, the pent-up frustration spilling out. "My feelings are valid and it feels like I’m cursed or something! Love doesn’t work for me. It never does. And now, I’m scared it’ll destroy you, too. So...so I've been avoiding you because I'm not going to allow myself to fall for you anymore because I don't want you hurt." Your voice broke and you felt tears pool in your eyes so you blinked them away quickly.

Jeongin reached out, his hands trembling as he gently cupped your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. "You’re not cursed. And you’re not the reason for any of this. Your ex was a coward. He cheated because he was too weak to handle someone as incredible as you." His voice softened, filled with conviction. "I fought him because I wanted to. Because he deserved it for what he did to you, not because of you."

Your heart clenched at his words, but your mind kept resisting. "What about the trainee? My ex wasn’t alone, Jeongin. That girl… they were both involved. And they’re gone now. Did I ruin them, too? Pull Chan in to do my dirty work?"

Jeongin frowned, remembering the fallout with the two trainees. Your ex had been demoted, his career in shambles after the cheating scandal leaked, not just because of what he did to you, but also because of his reckless behavior outside the company and after thorough investigation found out he was leaking his information to sasaengs for more attention. The female trainee cut herself loose after she faced an immense amount of online ridicule and stress. She couldn't handle the aftermath of the actions she caused so she resigned. It was also found that she knew of your ex leaking info as well. So it wasn’t just their affair; they had violated their contracts and put everyone at risk. And Chan just happened to stumble across that information and leave it on a director's desk.

"They made their own choices," Jeongin said firmly. "They ruined themselves. They weren’t cut from the company because of you—they were kicked out because they betrayed everyone, not just you. They were selfish, Y/N. You didn’t do that."

His words were gentle but steady, and for the first time in days, you felt something shift inside you. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let go of the guilt that had been gnawing at you for so long, but it was hard. So, so hard.

"I don’t know how to stop blaming myself," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "For any and all of it."

Jeongin’s hands tightened their hold on you, his thumbs brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek. "Then let me help you. Let me show you that you deserve love, that you’re not a burden to anyone. Least of all me."

You felt your walls start to crack, his words digging deep into the parts of you that were aching, breaking. You wanted to believe him. But the fear of what love had cost you before still lingered.

"I don’t know if I can do this," you admitted, your voice wavering.

He smiled softly, leaning in closer. "You don’t have to do it alone."

"I’m still not sure, Innie," you murmured, your voice fragile, as if the words would break apart if you spoke any louder. "I can’t…I don’t know if love is meant for me."

Jeongin’s expression softened, but he didn’t look discouraged. Instead, there was a quiet determination in his eyes, something firm and unyielding that you hadn’t seen before.

He shifted, moving closer so that he was kneeling directly in front of you, his hands still gently holding your face.

"I don’t believe that," he said softly, but there was a fierceness in his tone. "Love isn’t something that’s meant for some people and not for others. It’s not something that decides whether you deserve it or not. Love is a choice. And I’m choosing you, Y/N."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling into your chest, but the doubts, the fears, still clung to the edges of your mind. "But what if it doesn’t work? What if…what if I ruin everything again? What about the fans? You know how they are. If they knew-"

"I don’t care about the fans," Jeongin interrupted, his voice steady but urgent. “I care about you. This isn’t about them. This is about us. You and me. I’ll deal with whatever comes my way, but I won’t let anyone- specially some fans- decide how I feel about you."

You blinked, taken aback by the certainty in his words. "Jeongin… you can’t just ignore-"

"I’m not ignoring it. I know what could happen. I know how crazy the fake fans can get, how people talk, how the company would react. I’m not blind to it. But none of that is going to stop me from trying. Besides, the photos leaked from that one sasaeng didn't even cause that much problems. If anything they Stays were actually kinda happy." A little chuckle left him. "Some of the comments are funny. Like someone said they were happy we finally had a real dating rumor among the guys because they were worried we'd stay bitchless forever- not that I think you're a bitch- you're literally an angel, Nabi." He stumbled over his words his face pink. "But...I'm prepared for the crazy ones I swear."

Your breath hitched in your throat, the sincerity in his voice breaking through the layers of your uncertainty. You could see it in his eyes- he was serious. He wasn’t just saying this to comfort you or to make you feel better in the moment. He meant every word.

"Let’s make a deal," he said suddenly, his tone shifting to something lighter but still laced with that same determination.

You frowned, confused. "A deal?"

Jeongin smiled, the corner of his lips quirking up just enough to ease the tension. "Yeah, a deal. You don’t have to decide anything right now. I won’t pressure you, okay? But…give me time. Give me a chance to show you. Let me woo you properly. And if, after all of that, you still don’t believe love is meant for you… then I’ll back off. No hard feelings. But-"

"But?" you asked, your curiosity piqued despite yourself.

"But if I manage to convince you- if I show you that love is something that can work, even for us- then we’ll figure the rest out together." His eyes were filled with hope, a gleam of mischief, as if he already knew how this would end. "What do you say? Deal?"

You stared at him for a long moment, your heart beating in a strange, uneven rhythm. The part of you that had been so afraid, so convinced that love was only ever going to bring you pain, wanted to resist, wanted to turn him down and retreat into the safety of being alone. But there was another part of you, the part that longed for something more, that wanted to believe he could be right.

"Jeongin, I don’t know if I can promise-"

"I’m not asking for a promise," he cut in gently. "Just…give me a chance. Let me try."

You hesitated, but the warmth in his gaze, the unwavering determination, made it hard to say no. Slowly, you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Okay…deal."

Jeongin’s smile widened, relief and excitement washing over his features. "You won’t regret this, I swear." He leaned back, his confidence now brimming. "I’ll do everything in my power to woo you over, Y/N. You’ll see. By the time I’m done, you’ll wonder why you ever doubted it in the first place."

You felt a strange mixture of nervousness and anticipation bubbling up inside you, but for the first time in a long while, there was also a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. Maybe love wasn’t as impossible as you’d made it out to be.

But even as the thought crossed your mind, you still couldn’t help the whisper of doubt that lingered. You’d been hurt before- shattered, really. And the scars from that still felt fresh, still weighed heavily on your heart. Could Jeongin really change that? Could he really show you that love was something worth fighting for?

"Jeongin," you said softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty. "What if it’s not enough? What if the fans don’t accept it? What if-"

"We’ll figure it out," he interrupted, his voice steady. "We’ll deal with it together, one step at a time. But none of that matters if you don’t let me try first. I’m not afraid of what people think. I’m not afraid of the company, the rumors, or anything else. All I care about is you."

His words hung in the air between you, a promise wrapped in hope, and despite the doubts that still clung to your mind, something inside you started to shift. Maybe it was his sincerity, or maybe it was just the fact that, for the first time, someone was willing to fight for you in a way that made you believe you were worth it.

"Okay," you whispered again, this time with a bit more conviction. "Okay, Innie. Let’s see where this goes."

Jeongin grinned, his eyes lighting up in a way that made your heart flutter. "I won’t let you down." He stood up, offering you a hand to help you up. "Now, be prepared. I’ve got some wooing to do."

Despite yourself, a small smile crept onto your face as you took his hand.

It was warm and big and soft and felt like it was meant to be in yours.

Maybe this was the start of something new. Something better.

You wanted to delude yourself into believing that this wouldn't work. That it couldn't.

But you couldn't help and think that this might be the hardest thing you had ever done.

To force yourself not to fall while he did overly the top romantic stunts.

Since you had already started to fall with the bare minimum.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

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@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan

[curseofaphrodite]

mutiny.

pirate!sylus x spy!reader

summary: dealing with secrets was your thing but with him, you weren't sure how long the lies would hold up.

Rumors of a royal spy being infiltrated in the pirate ship had always been floating around, but now someone might have actual evidence? In many ways, this day was long overdue, at least for you.

Spy or not, the work you put into the ship was real enough. Starting off the lowest rank with no intention of doing anything other than collecting information for puny royal coins, you quickly came to realize that pirate life had its own certain appeal. The sailors were mad, but they had each other's backs when it mattered. The food and music were an unexpected bonus.

The only downside you could think of was the ship's Second-In-Command.

You had called out on Sylus's shitfuckery from day one and he had grown a secret grudge against you from then. Alright, it might not have been that big of a secret because everyone knew about it. You thanked your lucky stars that he was not the Captain, because he'd have made you walk the plank way before this.

What if he's the one who has the evidence against me? you thought bleakly. No Y/N, they don't know who the spy is yet. They just have the evidence one exists. If I could just find the proof and destroy it before they link it to me...

"Lost in your thoughts, sweetheart?" Lelya, the ship's self-proclaimed sorceress, asked quietly. "Would you like an apple?"

"No, I'm full," you responded, trying to stay cool. Whatever happens will happen and you'll have to meet it when it does. There were many sailor sayings about it but none sounded comforting.

"We're working it off in our next heist then," Sylus barged into the scene with a triumphant smile. He was wearing his usual black long coat, which was a striking contrast to his plain white hair. There were stories that his hair used be colourful, that a mermaid stole its life when he broke her heart — and knowing Sylus, it was probably true.

"Ay, we just had our heist. Let us rest a while." One of the older pirates said, not even opening his eyes.

"Oh, I wish I could say something about that. This heist is involuntary."

"Involuntary?" you groaned. "Please tell me this isn't your way of letting us know that —THE SHIP IS UNDER ATTACK!"

You yelled the last part because the ship was, indeed, under attack. A giant vessel with royal blue banners was sending their canons loose, and the pirates in your ship had started to run amok. You knew most of them were just going to alert the captain, but the scene unnerved you just the same.

"We're going to need weapons," Sylus said, smirking a bit.

You shot him a sharp glance. "No, we only need weapons if they get in. All we need to do is get ourselves far away."

"This is the work of the spy." The Captain walked in, a faraway look in is face. "Sylus, you said you've found who it is?"

Shit.

"I said I'm close," Sylus replied, and if you weren't busy gasping as several things fell into place, you would have understood that he took one more step to you.

The spy is close.

Sylus is the one with the proof?! In a way, this cut down your work in half. You just need to sneak into his room and find it. But if he knew, it's not like he wouldn't have handed over the proof already.

Don't be stupid, Captain would have drowned me if he knew. You thought in exhaustion.

"Work faster," he snapped at Sylus. The latter didn't look offended, which meant he was smug. Which meant he really was just scaring you.

I don't know how the royal ships found us but it wasn't because of me. I'd never sell these people out. You wanted to say, to plead — but your ego kept your mouth closed. He walked away, whistling some tune.

You turned to the direction of the royal ship and sighed. You could think of your doom later. Right now, you need to fight.

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

The next hour went in a quick blur. There were commands being thrown around and there were casualties, but luckily, no deaths. It seemed as if destroying the ship was what the royals wanted, but so far, they held up well on their own. Past the smoke and the screams, it got to a point where the other side was silent.

With your heart beating against your chest, you slowly got up from the ground, where everyone else was kneeling to protect themselves. You could see the royal ship close enough, but there was nary a sound.

"Everyone alive?" Sylus asked from behind, and you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in. You were almost sure you hadn't seen him through most of the fight, but that isn't to say he had hidden. There was a slit down his face, and he appeared beaten up.

"Wha—"

"One of the fuckers got in. I was dealing with him."

"Is he—?"

"A drowning corpse right this second? Yes." Sylus winced when you involuntarily put a hand over his shoulder. You were only trying to get a clearer view of his wounds, but you jumped just the same.

"Sylus, you can't—"

"DUCK!" Someone yelled, and you looked up to see darkness fill the sky. Or at least, a cannon heading straight towards where you and Sylus stood.

Adrenaline shot into your head and you pushed yourself against him, pulling both of you out of harm's way. While the cannon hit the place you stood moments ago, you realized you weren't completely out of danger's reach.

There was a ringing in your head and you were completely knocked out.

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

The cot you were resting on was deeply uncomfortable. You opened our eyes and tried to get up, but the pain pulled you right back into the sheets.

"Take it easy," Sylus's voice almost scared you as much as it bought you comfort. With a dizzy head, you sat up straight and saw him perched on the end of your bed, as if he might run away any second.

"How are you unharmed?"

"They never intend to harm me, Y/N." He looked at you earnestly. "You're smart enough to answer me this: why would this ship have a royal spy?"

Blood drained from your face. You glanced at his hair for a second — the silver that you knew wasn't because of depressed mermaids.

"Why?" he asked. "Why not other pirate ships? Why ours?"

"It's— well, it's almost as if what they're looking for is only on this ship." You answered, sighing. He frowned, so you quickly added, "Is anyone else hurt?"

"Oh no, that was the last cannon." Sylus smiled at you, something so rare that you were taken aback. "You saved my life."

The statement was simple. He didn't sound grateful, just a little surprised. You tilted your head as if to say, I'd do it again.

"Listen," you took a breath, not knowing how to convince him you weren't the bad person he probably thought you were. "I didn't know the attack was going to happen. I had no part in that."

He frowned again. "I know that."

"No seriously, all I do is give them your co-ordinates. They just want to protect you."

"Y/N?" He stood up, looking taller than usual. Or maybe you were just shrinking by his glare. "Tell me you're fucking joking right now."

"What?" your sound was so quiet you weren't sure if it actually came out.

"You're the spy? YOU?" He looked so... hurt. You stood up, not knowing what to say.

"You knew this already! Stop acting like you didn't!"

"I found a weapon with royal insignia from David's locker. I thought HE was the spy, not the girl who spends every waking moment arguing with me — not you!" He ran his fingers through his hair, turning away. His next words were almost timid. "How can it be you?'

It occurred to you that him asking about the spy was not because he suspected you but rather, he just wanted your information. That he actually cared about what you had to say. That thought only made you more depressed.

"Sylus I—"

But like a child after embarrassing himself, he walked away, leaving you alone. You didn't what he did after that. You didn't know if he told the Captain right away, or whether he waited till after dinner. You didn't know what he thought of you, but when two pirates came to you in the middle of the night with shackles, you were hardly surprised.

When they threw you in the cell of the ship, you didn't object much. You were too tired. You could sense Sylus standing outside the bars, blending in with the shadows. You could sense his broken trust, and you could feel him leaving.

Once the shock dissipated, you looked around the cell and saw it wasn't empty. There were piles of stolen goods and treasures, but the one that caught your eye was the royal crown. It was small — fit for a prince rather than a king. You knew that out of all of them, this was the only thing that actually belonged to Sylus.

Sylus hated you because you knew his biggest secret. And while you held his crown, the one he ditched and ran away from years ago, you wondered if you were just a reminder of the past that he was running away from.

The thought made you guilty, but for now, you needed an escape plan.

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

kofi | commissions

[sgfgmichaelrry]

⁎⁺˳✧༚ king of my heart

pairing: luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: major fluff, kissing, pre tlt, just some sweet stuff to read on a wednesday night

word count: 434 words

an: reader’s claimed, but it’s not specified so you can imagine them as whatever demigod works for you 😘 also! this is my first time posting my work so lmk if it sucks ass 😋

“Luke, stop!” Her voice squeaked out in a delicate hymn that graced his ears, the apples of her cheeks illuminated under the moon’s light. Luke, in the midst of his relentless attack on her sides, let out a chuckle that thundered within his chest as he wrapped his arms around her frame. He pulled her into his embrace as his features lit up, the corner’s of his eyes crinkled as his lips tugged into a smile.

The warmth from his frame radiated into her rib cage as the cool night air bit at their skin. The dense forest surrounding them did not do much in helping them remain warm, but there hadn’t been much to complain about when they were tangled in each other’s arms. “What’s got you acting up like this? Didn’t see me enough today?” She tilted her head up to look into his hickory eyes, a smirk quirking at her lips as she teased him.

“We can call it that, baby,” A heat rushed into his cheeks as he was brought to look at her eyes, the rich color drowning out any thoughts in his mind. He turned her body around to face him, moving his hand to lift her chin up. “Just missed you, is all.” His fingers delicately rested on her chin, whispering his words on her lips. “What, is it a crime to miss my girlfriend now?” A cocky grin graced his features.

“Oh shut up, Castellan,” she uttered before bringing his face down to meet hers, both their eyes fluttering shut at the domestic buzz between them. Her fingers trailed up and wrapped themselves gently in his curls as one of his hands held onto the soft plush of her hip, the other resting on the small of her back. She felt his lips split into a smile against her own, and it only made pulling apart from him that much harder.

Her eyes flickered and peered up at Luke, and she was met with an eyes of adoration looking down at her. She pressed another quick peck on Luke’s soft lips, eliciting sweet smiles from the two of them. Her eyebrow furrows as she quips a brief, “Race you to the lake?”

In an instant, Luke’s smile turns into a smirk at the sight of a friendly competition. “Only if I’m the one winning!” Upon his response, she’s quick on her feet, attempting and failing to beat her boyfriend to the lake’s shore. As the stars continue to twinkle above them, the lake’s edge is met with the sound of waves crashing and lover’s laughter.

hope you guys enjoyed this little drabble i thought of during the dark ages (i was sick and unhinged). lmk if you guys want a part two of them at the lake🙈

[winxanity-ii]

⌜Catch Me If You Can | Chapter 20 Chapter 20 | EPILOGUE: the thief and the messenger⌟

╰ ⌞🇨‌🇭‌🇦‌🇵‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌ 🇮‌🇳‌🇩‌🇪‌🇽‌⌝

❘ prev. chapter ❘༻✦༺❘ next chapter ❘

Weeks later, you found yourself perched on the slanted roof of your favorite hideout—the very one spot in town where you felt truly invisible. It was also the same place where you had once laid out your bold plan to rob a god.

Now, you sat cross-legged, a freshly swiped apple in hand, watching the sun dip lower in the sky.

The fading light bathed the horizon in hues of gold and crimson, streaks of orange blending into soft purples that hinted at the coming night. Above, the first stars began to twinkle, tiny pinpricks of silver against the deepening blue.

You bit into the apple, the crunch loud in the quiet. The faint scent of smoke and rebuilding filled the air, mingling with the sweet tang of the fruit.

Below, the town bustled faintly—quieter than it once had been, but alive in a way it hadn't been for a long time.

You watched as lanterns began to flicker to life, dotting the streets like fireflies. The people were rebuilding, healing.

It wasn't perfect, but it was better.

Life had returned to normal—or at least as normal as it could be for you. A small smile played at your lips as you thought back to everything that had happened.

You were richer from the experience—not just in the extra gold that mysteriously appeared in your satchel after you parted ways with Hermes, though that certainly helped. It even came with a note written in an elegant, teasing hand: For your trouble. Don't spend it all in one place, little thief.

The tyrant who had taxed your town into despair was gone now, driven out by the unexpected surge of wealth that allowed the people to reclaim what was theirs.

The Sunstone had done its part, not as a stolen artifact, but as the spark that inspired change.

And though you doubted Apollo would ever forgive the theft, he hadn't come back to smite you yet. Small victories.

You glanced up at the stars, their light growing brighter as the sun's warmth faded.

Your fingers brushed against the faint, golden mark on your wrist—the lingering proof of Apollo's judgment. It no longer burned, but it tingled faintly sometimes, a reminder of the divine forces you had crossed. A reminder that you had survived.

Taking another bite of the apple, you let your thoughts wander back to Hermes. You hadn't seen him since that night, but his parting words still echoed in your mind, as did the maddening, fleeting warmth of his kiss. "But if you do... well, you know where to find me."

You shook your head, letting out a soft huff of laughter. Typical Hermes. Always leaving you guessing, never giving you the full story. But even so, you knew you'd see him again. Trouble had a way of finding you, and he was never too far behind it.

For now, though, you allowed yourself to savor the moment—the peace of your town rebuilding, the quiet triumph of surviving a brush with the gods, and the soft glow of the stars above.

Whatever came next, you'd be ready.

For now, your thoughts wandered to the mundane, grounding you in the moment. What should I eat later? you mused, chewing the last bite of your apple. Maybe head to the bar for some stew... or catch the baker's stall before it closes. That honey bread is—

"Awfully quiet, little thief. Miss me already?"

The voice cut through your thoughts like a knife, smooth and teasing, laced with unmistakable amusement. Your heart leapt into your throat, the familiar timbre as jarring as it was strangely comforting.

Slowly, you turned, and there he was—Hermes.

He lounged casually on the edge of the rooftop like he belonged there, his wings faintly visible in the soft light of the evening, shimmering faint gold at the edges. His grin was as maddeningly smug as you remembered, his golden eyes glinting with a mixture of mischief and curiosity; his posture relaxed like he didn't have a care in the world.

Your chest tightened for a moment—a small, fleeting reaction that you quickly shoved down, replacing it with a blank, unbothered expression. "Look what the wind dragged in," you deadpanned, crossing your arms as you leaned back against the roof. "What do you want, Hermes? Last I checked, I haven't stolen from any gods recently."

His grin widened, the kind of grin that made you want to throw something at him. "Oh, I don't doubt that. Not yet, anyway." He leaned closer, balancing effortlessly on the slanted roof as his wings folded neatly behind him. "But who's to say you won't? I thought I'd check in, you know, keep you out of trouble."

"Keep me out of trouble?" You snorted, raising an eyebrow. "Isn't that your specialty, oh mighty god of mischief?"

"Guilty as charged." He placed a hand over his chest as if accepting the title with pride. "But let's not forget—you're my favorite little troublemaker now. Makes me feel responsible." His smirk softened, just a fraction, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on you. "Can't have you running wild without supervision."

You rolled your eyes, but there was no stopping the small twitch at the corner of your lips. "I'm doing just fine, thanks. And for the record, I'm not planning on any heists anytime soon."

"Good," Hermes said, his tone lighter but with a faint undercurrent of something deeper—something you couldn't quite place. "That's a start." Then, as if unable to resist, he added, "Though I have to say, the world's a little duller without you stirring the pot."

Your heart raced again, but you masked it with a huff, tossing the apple core off the roof and watching it disappear into the shadows below. "Well, sorry to disappoint. I'm retired from participating in big jobs."

"Retired?" Hermes laughed, a sound so rich and warm that it almost disarmed you. "Well, that won't do at all."

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious. "What won't do?"

Hermes crossed his arms, leaning lazily against his staff. "You. Sitting here. Pretending you're done with all the fun stuff. That's not the little thief I know." His wings shimmered faintly before disappearing once more, leaving only the faintest ripple in the air behind him. "As it happens, I've got something for you. Bigger, shinier, and far more dangerous than the Sunstone. Interested?"

You raised a brow, lips curving into a skeptical smirk. "And what if I don't want to? As you can see, I've got a reputation of simple thievery to maintain here." You gestured down at the bustling town below, the marketplace still lively with traders and customers.

Hermes' smirk widened, and before you could blink, he floated forward, his sandals skimming the edge of the roof. He plopped down in front of you, so close that you had to crane your neck to look up at him. His golden eyes gleamed as he leaned just a little too close for comfort—or maybe too close for your own good.

You hated the way your heart stuttered at something so simple, so deliberate.

"Oh, on the contrary, little thief," he purred, his voice low and smooth, sending a small shiver down your spine. "I apologize if I made it sound like you have a choice. I'm merely here to cash in a deal I'm owed... or did you forget?"

You maintained your snarky look, raising an eyebrow as if unfazed, but inside, you were screaming. Forget? How could you forget? You'd practically replayed the deal on loop every day after you parted ways, trying not to admit—even to yourself—that the silence left behind had felt... lonely.

Finally, you pursed your lips, determined to hide the smile threatening to creep onto your face. "Why are you so insistent on that deal? I know I'm not the only human you've made a deal with. What's in it for you?"

Hermes tilted his head, his grin lazy and entirely too self-assured. "Entertainment, of course," he said with a wink, his tone dripping with charm. "And maybe your charming company."

You rolled your eyes, but the flutter in your chest refused to be ignored. "Charming, huh? Sounds like you're buttering me up for something."

"Always," Hermes said with a playful shrug, standing to his full height and stretching his arms overhead, his grin never faltering. "But come on, little thief. You can't tell me you've been satisfied with the small-time cons down there. Where's the thrill? The excitement? The chaos?"

You opened your mouth to argue, but no words came out. As much as you hated to admit it, he wasn't entirely wrong. Life had returned to normal—or as normal as it could be—but part of you missed the wildness of the journey, the danger, the feeling of being alive.

Hermes must have caught the flicker of hesitation in your eyes because his grin widened, triumphant. "See? You're already considering it."

"I didn't say anything," you shot back quickly, crossing your arms. "You're imagining things."

"Am I?" Hermes' voice dropped slightly, his gaze locking onto yours. "Tell me this, my little thief—when was the last time you felt like you were really living?"

You huffed, turning sharply on your heel. You hated how easily he could read you, but you also couldn't deny the truth in his words. "I don't know," you drawled, keeping your back to him for effect, pretending to mull it over. "Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. Hard to say."

Behind you, Hermes chuckled, the sound low and teasing. You heard the faint rustle of his sandals against the roof as he moved closer. Too close. The air shifted, and you could feel his presence just behind you—warm, magnetic.

Slowly, you turned, only to find his face mere inches from yours.

His golden eyes lidded slightly, their usual mischief softened into something more dangerous. His lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and the faint breeze ruffled his hair, catching glints of gold in the strands.

He tilted his head, his gaze flickering to your lips for a fraction of a second before locking back onto your eyes.

"Come on~," he murmured, his voice a low, teasing hum that sent shivers down your spine. "Admit it. You missed me."

Your heart pounded in your chest, but you refused to let him win. This time, you leaned forward, closing the gap. Hermes' smirk faltered, his eyes widening slightly as you pressed a teasing kiss to his lips—light, brief, but just enough to leave him stunned.

When you pulled back, it was with a smirk of your own. "Maybe a little."

For the first time, Hermes seemed caught off guard. His eyes blinked rapidly, like he was trying to process what just happened. Then he threw his head back and laughed, the sound bright and full of life, echoing into the night.

"You're going to be the death of me, little thief," he said, his voice still carrying that unmistakable amusement.

You tilted your head, feigning a thoughtful expression as your lips curved into a playful grin. "Well, if you die, who's going to provide me with all that 'entertainment' you promised, huh? Don't go making empty threats, Hermes."

His laughter faltered, the smirk on his lips twisting into something sharper. Before you could blink, his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist as he pulled you closer. The sudden movement sent your heart racing, and the teasing retort you'd been crafting evaporated as he tugged you flush against him.

"Empty threats, huh?" he murmured, his voice low and molten, golden eyes locking onto yours with a heat that made your breath hitch. His free hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

Then, without warning, he leaned in and crashed his lips onto yours.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was consuming—fierce and unrelenting, his mouth moving against yours like he'd been waiting for this moment far longer than you could've guessed.

His lips were soft, yet the pressure was firm, claiming, stealing your breath as his hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer.

His tongue flicked against your lips, coaxing them apart, and before you knew it, he was deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a skill that left you lightheaded.

Your hands instinctively shot up—one gripping the front of his tunic, the other bracing against his chest. The faint hum of his laughter rumbled against your lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping for air, your head spinning. "W-Wow," you breathed out, your voice unsteady. One hand pressed lightly against his chest as if to put some distance between you, though you couldn't bring yourself to push him away completely. Your fingers brushed against the warmth of his skin beneath the fabric, and it was enough to send another jolt through your already frayed nerves.

Hermes' grin returned, cocky and entirely too pleased with himself, though there was a softness in his golden eyes that hadn't been there before. "Sure you're not the one who's going to be the death of me?" you teased, managing a weak smile despite your flushed cheeks and racing heart.

He snorted, the hand on the back of your neck sliding up to cup your cheek. "Nah, I've got it all figured out," he said, his voice warm and rich with amusement. "If you do die, I'll just bring you back to life. I've got a few connections in the Underworld, you know. I can even make a cozy little alcove just for us if you want—eternity's a lot less dull with you around."

You leaned back slightly, still catching your breath as the warmth of his touch lingered on your skin. "Alright, enough flirting," you said, though the teasing edge in your voice didn't quite mask the fluttering in your chest. "What's this little 'job' of yours anyway? If I'm risking my life again, I'd at least like to know what I'm getting into."

Hermes' grin widened, full of mischief as he tilted his head, watching you like you were the most entertaining thing in existence. "Ah, now there's the spirit I love to see. And here I was worried you'd grown boring."

You arched a brow, waiting, as he clapped his hands together and began patting his pockets. "Let me just grab the details..." His voice trailed off as his golden eyes flicked downward, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "Huh. I could've sworn it was—"

When he looked up, his words faltered, his gaze narrowing as he spotted the slip of parchment pinched between your fingers. You held it up with a sly smile, shrugging innocently. "Sorry. Old habits die hard," you said coyly. "You really should keep a better eye on your stuff."

For a moment, Hermes just stared, and then that infuriating grin spread across his face. "Oh, you little—" He didn't finish. Instead, he reached up, pulling his cap off and plopping it unceremoniously onto your head. It tilted slightly, too big for your head, but it only made his smirk grow wider as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you flush against him.

"You know," he murmured, his voice low and warm, "I think you're going to be my favorite assistant. Try not to let it go to your head."

Before you could respond—or swipe the cap right back off—he unfurled his wings in one smooth motion, the sudden rush of air making your hair whip wildly. His grip on you tightened as he launched into the sky, the ground vanishing beneath your feet.

You let out a surprised yelp, clutching onto his shoulders instinctively, and Hermes' laughter echoed in your ears.

"Hold on tight, little thief," he called over the wind, the stars stretching out like a glittering blanket above you. "The world's wide open now—ripe for chaos, a little adventure, and who knows? Maybe even a bit more love if you're up for it?"

You couldn't help the grin that spread across your face as you tucked your face into his neck. The night swallowed you both, the endless horizon promising more than you could ever imagine.

With Hermes at your side—or rather, holding you aloft—you were ready for whatever came next.

A/N: AHHHHH, y'all!! it's finally finished! i had a lot of fun with it, and it also taught me that i don't have to go wild and every book i write gotta have 30+ chappies.... i als tried my hand here at a faster-paced romance (which was hard asf because it takes me hella long time to even realize i like someone, let alone wanna kiss them lolol---sighs, life of a demisexual) enough ramling, hope you lovelies enjoyed this! my apollo or telemachus short fic should be dropping soon~ in the mean time, while updating KNE and Godly Things oneshots will be drpping as well ❤️