#line for getting stepped on by her starts here

[webism]

CHAPTER ONE: The Businessman.

kento nanami x fem!reader. nsfw.

your first night at Tsukumo's Angels, and you get put on the phone sex line.

masterlist. read on ao3

You sit on a peeling leather couch that sticks to the back of your thighs in the heat. An old metal-blade fan sits mounted on the wall to your left, but it’s a sorry excuse for one—someone blowing on you would quicker dry the sweat from your brow. It’s not as dingy as Toji’s apartment, which you suppose is an upside: things are looking brighter already. Yay.

The beautiful woman sitting across from you in a small black tank and jeans—in this weather—taps her nails against the surface of her desk. Her blonde hair gates her vision a little, but you can still feel the sharpness of her gaze on your skin. She’s sizing you up. You aren’t sure if you like it. 

“So,” she leans back in her seat. “Your name was..?”

You look up at her, at the way her hands are clasped together. She could look down at the faded resumé in front of her and see your name written as clear as day, but she asks you instead. Maybe to hear it from your own lips.

You tell her your name, and she parrots it back to you to test it on her tongue. She decides that she likes the taste. “I’m Yuki Tsukumo. I own Tsukumo’s Angels, the finest budget escort service in the city.”

You knew that, of course, but you nod as a formality regardless. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Yuki smiles at you—wide and toothy and ever so beautiful. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. She blows her smoke to the left and you almost forget just how hot it is in her office. “I hear you’d like a job?”

You’re going to hell. Every late-night-TV preacher and grandmother in the congregation would tell you the same thing. It’s not just what you’re doing—it’s what you’re thinking, what you’re willing to become to make it out of this.

When you were younger, stupider, you’d fear hell like nothing else. Eternal heat, endless suffering, a constant lack of breath, a pit with no end. Now, you’re starting to think it might feel a lot like this city at night: oppressive heat rising from the pavement, the air thick and stifling, and an unshakable sense that something, or someone, is watching you.

Toji used to call the nightlife a cancer. And although he rarely managed the truth, this might have been one of the rare times it slipped past his lips. You tug at the hem of your dress—a little too tight, a little too short. It’s what you had to work with, cobbled together from a half-hearted thrift store run and whatever nerve you could muster.Yuki didn’t say anything about a dress code, and maybe you’re stereotyping yourself here, but you’re out of your element and this dress is short enough to strip the attention from your fidgeting hands. 

The fluorescent lights outside Tsukumo’s Angels buzz faintly as you approach, the words glowing in neon pink that is reflected in the puddles on the concrete. The heavy metal door creaks loudly when you push it open and step in. 7 on the dot. You’ll be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about finding a place to live until tomorrow. Don’t think about it.

Inside, the air is cooler, though not by much. The same peeling leather couch greets you, as does the same faint smell of smoke and something cheap, floral, and over-applied. Yuki isn’t at the desk this time, but a tall man in a plain white button-up leans against it, his arms crossed. He’s an attractive man, a cigarette hangs from his lips—you’re starting to see a trend in staff here. 

“You the lamb?” He asks, though the way he looks you up and down tells you he already has an answer to that question.

“Lamb?” you ask.

He smiles, moustached lip curling upwards in something mocking and dangerously sultry. “Yeah, you’re the lamb—” he extends a hand for you to shake “—Shiu.”

Shiu has a rough grip, you note. Not mean or calloused like you’d expect from a man of physical labours, but just… rough. “It’s nice to meet you,” you hum. He laughs. 

He takes another drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brighter in the dim light, and looks you over once more before flicking the ash into an already overflowing tray on the desk. He blows a plume of smoke toward the ceiling, eyes narrowing slightly as the smoke curls. “You look familiar. I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head. “You haven’t.”

Shiu narrows his eyes even further, takes in the way your dress clings tight, how your frame stands in front of him. Your nerves… the tinge of excitement beneath them. “Have we..?”

“No!” your eyes widen, voice a little louder than you intend it to be. “Sorry. I just got out of a relationship so… no, we haven’t…”

“A breakup, huh? That’s always an interesting reason to land somewhere like this.” His voice lowers. He’s toying with you. “What’d he do? Not give you enough attention? Leave you out in the cold?”

You don’t owe him an explanation: you’re here and that’s all that matters, but you find yourself shrugging regardless. “Something like that.”

Shiu smiles, something teasing but not quite mocking. “Right, well if you’re here as a rebound I’d advise you to walk your ass right back out of that door. You’ll get attention here, for sure, but this isn’t the place for… soft comforts.”

“I’m not here for comfort.”

“Good,” says Shiu. “Keep it that way. You’re here to provide a service, an experience, but not without boundaries. Those lines blur when you start wanting cuddles and reassurance after, and when the lines blur you aren’t doing everything in your power to keep yourself safe. These men—and women—pay for sex for a reason. Remember that.”

You know. You know. There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about being an Angel, or a lamb, as he puts it. Still, you want to make the most of the hole you’re in. You narrow your eyes at Shiu and hope he doesn’t chide you for changing the subject when you ask: “and what about you? Are you—”

“For sale?” A door behind Shiu pushes open and in walks Yuki Tsukumo. She’s ditched the jeans from yesterday for a long black dress: one that hugs her figure and flows like liquid down to her ankles. She looks taller, and a whole lot cleaner than the gritty lobby you stand in. “Give me a good offer and I’ll rent him out to you. Shiu is security, he’ll take care of you if and when you need him to.”

Shiu scoffs at Yuki’s joke and takes a step to the left so that she can slot in next to him. Yuki, your boss, looks you up and down. You catch the way her gaze lingers on your dress, though you can’t tell if it’s judgement or approval behind her lashes. She flits her gaze to Shiu. “Are you trying to scare my lamb away, Kong?”

Shiu shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Yuki rolls her eyes and lands her gaze on you once again. Seeing you so out of your element, she gives you a soft smile to try and ease your nerves. “You’ll be okay here. I showed you my office yesterday, I’ll be in there if you need me at any time, okay? You’re never more than a few steps from security and if you have issues with anyone, co-worker or client, you can come to me.”

Weirdly, that does soothe you. Though your moment to take a breath quickly passes when Yuki straightens up and turns on her heels with only a nod for you to follow. “Come then.”

The door she came from leads down a long hallway with dim fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The walls are bare, the paint chipped in spots, revealing patches of old wallpaper beneath. Yuki doesn’t wait for you to catch up; her heels click with purpose on the tiled floor, echoing through the narrow space. You’re almost at the end of the hall before she speaks again, her tone matter-of-fact. “I’m not going to throw you in the deep end, but you’re not getting a soft landing either. I’ll introduce you to one of my angels, Utahime, and she’s going to walk you through our phone sex services. Sound good?”

Without waiting for a reply, Yuki steps through another door and leads you into a big lounge area. Against the back wall are a bunch of mirrors and vanity stations, makeup and hygiene products littered over each tabletop. A few girls in even fewer clothing sit and do their hair and makeup, chatting amongst themselves and shooting you soft smiles as you and Yuki walk past. 

Your boss steps over to a cream chaise lounge against another wall where a girl around your age lays splayed across the cushioning. She’s wearing a dress like yours, short and black and very ‘sex-sells’, and is tapping away on her phone with such rapt attention she doesn’t notice the two of you approach until Yuki clears her throat. 

“Utahime,” she drawls and gestures to you. “This is our newest lamb. I’d like you to walk her through our phone services tonight. Doable?”

The girl—Utahime—looks you over. She looks a little bored, gorgeous black hair falling over her shoulders and her nails still tapping absentmindedly against her phone screen. Her perfectly arched brow raises, just slightly, before she finally glances at Yuki.

“Doable,” she says with a lazy shrug. “I have the businessman booked in for a call in half an hour… maybe he’d like a session with the new girl?”

You look at Yuki, who looks at you in the same breath. She seems to think about something before ultimately nodding. “If you can get her up to speed before he calls, let her have a go with him.”

“The businessman?” You ask.

Yuki smiles. “He’s a hard worked man, but he’s so unfamiliar with his sex drive that you’d think he was a priest. He might actually benefit from talking to someone new.”

You nod—sex therapy for a businessman couldn’t be that hard. Utahime stands and adjusts her dress before grabbing your wrist and parting from Yuki to pull you across the lounge and into a room off to the side. Utahime’s grip on your wrist is firm but not unkind, and loosens once youre in what she introduces to you as the studio. 

It’s so much nicer than you expected. The room is decently sized and lit up with warm fairy lights. Almost like a recording studio, there are doors to a few booths across the wall, each one decorated to the nines with pillows and blankets and a station for water and personal items. A few low tables hold candles, fake or otherwise, alongside a small black box of… what you imagine might be toys. A plush little sofa sits in each one too, for comfort. 

“Nice, right?” Utahime hums and gently pushes you into one of the booths. “Everything’s designed to make you more comfortable. Clients pick up on that, even over the phone. It’s all sound-proofed in here too, so if you get into it you can be as loud as you want. Seriously, make it yours. You’ll be in here a lot until you start taking in-person clients.”

Utahime sits down on the floor and tosses a pillow in your direction. You startle a little but look at her with a knowing smile at her efforts to start feeling familiar. “So,” you start, sitting down on the plush sofa and toying with the small headset that hangs from the armrest. “The businessman… tell me about him?”

Utahime leans back against the wall and props her chin in her hand. “The businessmaaaan. He’s sweet. He’s only called in once before, spoke to me but got too nervous to do anything more than talk about his day. He was polite—apologised about ten times for wasting my time, which, by the way, he wasn’t. He’s got this earnestness about him that’s kind of rare. But you can tell he’s not used to this kind of thing. Not even close. It’s… cute.”

You look at her, a soft smile crosses her lips. If it wasn’t just work you’d think she had a soft spot for him. “Do you think he’ll mind talking to me instead of you? Changing things up might make him feel even more nervous.”

Utahime shakes her head. “I think he’ll appreciate someone who’s also new to this. You can learn from each other. He’s booked to call in twenty minutes. We could do some practice calls until then? I’ll show you the ropes.”

She puts her hand up to her ear to simulate a phone and you laugh at the gesture. “Sounds good.”

Meanwhile, in his small apartment bedroom, Kento Nanami—the businessman—paces from door to dresser. Back and forth, back and forth. He tightens his tie, and then loosens it just to feel unmade and tighten it again. 

Why did he book a second call? The first was ridiculous, he talked to a nice young lady about officework woes and quarterly reports and hung up after an hour with a call-girl sized dent in his wallet and no sexual relief to show for it. He’s of half a mind to walk over to his mirror and start practicing lines, but he hasn’t yet lost so much of his decorum.

For the next ten minutes, Nanami sits with his fingers drumming over his thighs, dull thuds against his slacks. He’s lost in his mind, is he even aroused? Capable of being aroused? He can’t remember the last time he jerked off—last month?

He’s two minutes late to call by the time he next checks his phone. “Shit,” he mumbles, fumbling to the contact saved under ‘Personal Services.’ Nanami stares at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. He clears his throat, adjusts his posture, and exhales sharply through his nose before pressing ‘CALL’.

The line rings, once… twice… and then— “Tsukumo’s Angels, what’s on your mind?”

His breath hitches. He shouldn’t freeze like this, but the poor man simply cannot help it. “Good evening,” he sounds clinical, and his mind is working faster than his mouth because he’s talking before he can register the words that leave his lips. “You… aren’t who I talked to last week.”

“I’m not,” the voice says, Nanami picks up on an edge of unsurety that traces your words. “You’ve caught me on my first night… you could get to know me, if you’d like to.”

Nanami nods, and then realises you can’t see him. “I’d, uh, I’d like that.”’

There’s a soft hum of acknowledgement from your side of the call, and Kento stops feeling the need to toy with his tie. “Great,” you say, your voice steadying a little. “So… why don’t we start with something easy? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Nanami hesitates. “There’s not much to tell. I work in finance. My days are… predictable, for the most part.”

“Predictability isn’t always a bad thing,” you reply gently. “But I get the feeling you aren’t fulfilled.”

"You could say that. It’s a practical job. It pays the bills." He pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, "though I think I’d like a vacation.”

From your spot on the sofa at Tsukumo’s Angels, you lean back and glance at the door. Utahime had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving you space to settle into your first call. “Are you a beach man or a mountain man?”

“Beach,” his reply is immediate. He clears his throat. “There’s something calming about the ocean. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air… it’s grounding.”

You smile at the vivid image his words paint. “I get that. The ocean feels endless in a way that’s comforting, doesn’t it? Like it can hold all your worries for a while.”

“Yes. Exactly that. I’d read, listen to the water, just exist.”

“What does a man like you read?”

“Anything classic. I like things tried-and-true, change is… difficult for me. Hemingway maybe. Or Murakami, if I’m in the right mood.”

“Tasteful,” you reply. “And if I were there on the beach with you, could I distract you from your book, or are you diligent in your focus?”

In his room, Nanami’s mouth goes dry as his cock twitches in his slacks. You haven’t even said anything lewd, but he’s feeling oddly restless nonetheless. “I like to think I’m a focused man,” he starts, shuffling back on his bed to rest against the headboard. He takes his glasses off and rests them on the bedside table. “But under the right circumstances, I could be persuaded to set the book down.”

“Careful, businessman, I could take that as a challenge.”

“I’d hope so.”

He’s blushing at his own words and, in the same breath, reaching downwards with his free hand to palm as his hardening cock. He takes a sharp breath in and prays to every god he’s ever read about that you didn’t hear him.

“You’re saying I’d have to earn your attention?” Your question is honeyed. 

“I suppose,” so is his reply. 

“Good, I like working for my meals.”

Nanami snorts— “what, you’re going to eat me?”

“Yes,” your voice makes his cock jump. He sighs and pulls his slacks down enough to hook it out. “Have you ever wanted something so bad that you’d consume it whole if you could?”

Nanami thinks for a moment about a promotion, and then shakes his head. His mind jumps instead to the hypothetical beach retreat, with a book in one hand and the back of your head in his other as he pushes your mouth down on his cock so deep you’re gagging and drooling all over the place. Ungentlemanly, but enough of a visual to incite his tip to start drooling precum. He smears it over the head with his thumb, and nearly chokes on his words. “I have.”

“That’s how I feel. There’s an intimacy to taking care of someone, especially when they’re stressed like you. I bet your muscles are so tight they’d be hard under my hands. Being the one to relax you, make you feel good? That’d make me feel good.”

Nanami hums. “Usually I’m the one doing the servicing.”

“I don’t doubt that. You should be the one being taken care of. Poor thing, working so hard every day: carrying all that weight on your shoulders. You deserve a break.”

Poor Kento moans at that—a break. God, the things he’d do for a break. He feels almost pathetic pumping his cock to the thought of reprieve from the monotonous 9-5 he lives, but he hasn’t felt this good in a long time. His breathing grows heavier as your words coil around him. “You’re… ha, you’re good at this. It’s your first day?”

“Don’t distract me,” you hum. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” he exhales. “Your eyes. Looking up at me. Or your hands on my thighs. How you’d touch me like you know me. Like we know each other. Like we’ve done it a hundred times before and still aren’t sick of each other.”

He doesn’t know why he says that, why his fantasy quickly shifts from a beachside blowjob to the domestic life. To lazy morning sex or late nights in the kitchen that turn from snack runs to you hoisted onto the counter with his head between your thighs. He pictures you, whatever you look like, laughing as he kisses your neck and brings home gifts carved out of his paycheck. He pictures a life shared, and feels awful for it.

“Sorry,” his strokes falter. “Sorry I don’t  know why—”

“I like that thought,” you stop him from spiralling. “Maybe we have. Maybe in another life you’d come home to me every night, waiting for you… ready to make you forget about everything but the way you make me feel.”

His chest heaves as his hand works faster, stroking his cock at a near brutal pace to the images you plant into his mind. You’re in his bed, you’re bent over his desk, you’re lazing on the sofa with him, you’re up against the wall in his shower. “Fuck.”

“I’d know you inside and out,” you continue on, and he swears he can hear a slight hitch to your breath—are you touching yourself? He pictures phone sex operators sitting bored at a desk as they read from a script. But you sound…invested. Heated. “I’d know exactly how to take care of you. You’d come home exhausted and I’d make it all better—god, you’d know all of me too.”

Nanami’s hips jerk up into his hand as he feels his release start to build. It’s already dizzying, after such a long dry spell, and his head tips forward in want.“You’re—ha—too good at this. How the hell… how are you—”

“Shh,” you soothe him. “Don’t think. Just feel, just let me take care of you… even from here. You’re touching yourself, yea? Imagine it’s my hand, stroking you after a long day, love. Or maybe I’m riding you, letting you lay back and feel me around you… you wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.”

His free hand fists the sheets as he imagines the warmth of your body pressing against his, the way your nails might scrape lightly over his skin. He pictures your head tilted back, lips parted in ecstasy as you moan his name over and over again. 

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he rarely curses like this. Still, he’s never indulged in something like this before—never let himself slip into the raw, visceral need he now feels. The restraint he’s so practiced in every aspect of his life is dissolving fast, leaving him chasing the pleasure you’re pouring into him.

“Good,” you hum. “I want you to let go for me, give me everything you have all pent up. I can take it.”

Nanami’s pace turns frantic, hips fucking up into his fist as he strokes himself at a torrid pace. His mind is hazed with fantasies of a simple life, domestic and passionate and before he can stop himself and force a few more minutes of pleasure he’s cumming—hard. A strangled moan, one made for porn, leaves his lips and is met with a sharp intake of breath from your end. Nanami feels self conscious for a moment, drawing his now-sticky hand from his cock as he listens to the phone—were you uncomfortable?

Far from. You hardly realise you have your dress hiked and your hand under the fabric of your panties until you’re timing your orgasm with the businessman on the other end of the call. This is far from protocol, but the last time you’ve been spoken to about making love was when you and Toji first started dating, when he was still sweet on you. Sex since then has been rough and passionate and bruising and great, but never love-making. 

You try and stifle your sounds, not knowing yet if it's appropriate for you to touch yourself alongside your clients. You hadn’t intended on it, that’s for sure. You blink the blur from your vision as you try and regain your composure, sliding your hand out of your panties and holding it up in front of you—your fingers glisten under the soft lights and you scramble for a tissue to clean yourself off. 

The silence on the phone between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. “Are you… okay?”

“Yes,” you breathe out a lot quicker than you need to. 

“Good,” he says, and you can almost hear the faint smile in his tone. “I was worried I’d—well, that I’d crossed a line.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from blurting out how very far from uncomfortable you’d been. “Not at all. I guess we both… just got caught up in the moment.”

He hums in agreement, his voice still a little strained, and something about the lilt of his voice lays deep inside of you. Maybe this line of work isn’t for you if… after one call with a man you don’t know otherwise, you’re already starting to feel open with him. When he speaks, you can hear the nerves lacing his words. “I’m not unhappy it happened.”

“Me neither. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Businessman.”

“You have a way of coaxing them out of me,” he replies. “If I call again, will I get to speak to you?”

It’s a simple question, yet it still implies something more. There’s no rule against it—not officially—but getting closer than needed with clients has already been explained to you as a messy line. Still, you’ve just fucked your fingers to his voice and the fantasies he spoke of—you aren’t in a habit of keeping straight edges. 

“Maybe,” you reply, leaving the door open just enough. “Ask for the lamb.”

“The lamb?” He laughs, you like the sound. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do.”

There's a moment of silence, and you can see Utahime’s shadow in the frosted window on the door. A quick glance to the clock tells you that an hour has passed already. As if sensing your coming end, the businessman speaks. “My time is almost up. Take care of yourself.”

You stare at the door. “You too, Mr Businessman.”

“Nanami,” he corrects you gently. “You can call me Nanami.”

The call ends with a soft click, leaving you sitting there and rpelaying his correction in your head. Nanami. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register the door creaking open. Utahime steps in, and it’s only when her gaze drops to your lap that the realisation hits—your dress is still slightly rucked up, and your flustered attempt to straighten it comes a moment too late.

“Oh, lamb,” she drawls, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Caught you, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks burn as you stammer, “It’s not—”

“Relax. It happens to everyone eventually.”

You gape at her, mortified. “This doesn’t happen to everyone.”

Utahime grins, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she dips her head down in laughter. It’s not teasing—moreso friendly. She’s trying to laugh with you, not at you. Though still embarrassed, you feel a little less like you want to melt into the couch as she continues. “And you know what that means?”

You tilt your head at her. “What does it mean?”

“That you’ll fit right in here, lamb.”

taglist: @yemmuisworld @lavenderdaydream97 @hellokittyish @gojoscinnamonroll @medusamara5

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[frost-queen]

🆂🅸🆇 🅻🅴🅶🆂 // part 3 (Reader x Young-il / player 001)

Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @floatlosers, @alex–awesome–22  @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown, @wildiefleur , @meyocoko , @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedrava-bitch-187, @erikasurfer , @slythetic  , @eliscannotdance, @p0nycurtis, @anjautembear, @noiyaaa, @filmedbyharkness , @uniquecutie-puffs, @r3va-dwme, @annasnape7, @starkeyszn, @bonelessghoul, @carrotjuicepdf, @imenekiki, @gay4hotmilfs, @yummycement

Summary: The underdogs take on six legs. Each second lost creeps through your nerves. Unsure if you would thrive under the pressure, cheering errupts from the whole room. Sending euphoria to your team, yet with these joys, you easily seem to forget the ruthlessness of the games. For another vote awaits. [series]

One two, one two, one two.

The countdown had started along with the first step over the line. Strapped legs first then the other. Arms locked in strong. One two, one two, one two. All of you huffed out to find a synchronization in your step. Player 149 already huffing and puffing beside you. Your gaze meeting up with the timer. 10 seconds had already past.

10 priceless seconds lost and you hadn’t even reached the first game yet. The five of you reached the first game, stopping. Player 095 took the ddakji. The circle pink suit placed the red one on the ground. Player 095 holding the blue one in her hand. 

“Alright, throw it hard.” – Player 007 huffed out trying to get his nerves under control. You and all others watched as she threw it. Her blue one hitting just a side. Red one barely moving. A desperate sound escaped player 149’s mouth. Fail. You all heard clear over the intercom. Rubbing the failure even deeper in the wound.

Player 095 grabbed the blue one once more, throwing it without much thought. A ruthless gasp of frustration coming out of her. The blue one flapped hard on his side. Red barely moving. You felt your teammate’s muscles contract with each failure. You were already the underdogs. Barely anyone behind you believed in your team. Fail.

Once again booming through the speakers. A pink suit standing with his arms crossed like an X. Player 095 was panting loud. Desperately she turned to look at you. You tried to look confident back at her. Player 120 came leaning in closer against you. – “Try… try it with the other side.” – she said upmost gently. Making you wonder how she wasn’t losing her goddamn mind over this.

“The other side.” – she repeated with a gesture. Player 095 stared down at the blue one. Picking it up. Her hand trembling. With the use of her other hand, she flipped the card over. – “Here we go.” – player 007 whispered to himself. Player 095 raised her hand. Trying to settle her hand before flipping the blue card down.

Eyes widening as red bounced off the ground. Taking a flip in the air and landing face down. Pass. Boomed through the speaker followed by a buzzer sound. Euphoria erupted from your team. Cheering relieved at the win. – “Great job!” – player 149 called out. Player 120 was tapping your arm, trying to get a sentence through the euphoria.

The timer at 4:16. You understood what she mean, locking your arm with player 149 once more. – “Let’s go.” – you said. The other three nodded, locking in tight. One two, one two, one two. With some raised spirits, you moved to the next game. Flying stones. Player 007 accepted the stone. Giving it a blessing kiss.

He bend through his knees, all of you copying him. Breathing nervously as he prepared himself to throw. – “Three.” – he said releasing the stone. Clattering against the ground, missing the standing stone by a few bounces. Loud exclaims brought the spirits down again.

Player 120 didn’t allow much of grieving. Forcing you all to step forwards to grab the stone. Knowing the clock was ticking. Step by step moving forwards. Collecting the stone. – “All walk backwards now.” – Player 120 suggested. It made you look at her. Admiring her more with each moment. How she is able to remain calm and assist to make the assessment easier.

The four of you nodding, trusting her blindly. If anyone was going to prove everyone wrong with her team it was player 120. One two, one two, one two. Moving backwards at the counting to stay in tune. – “Alright!” – player 149 began. – “Imagine the stone is the face of the crook that scammed you.” – she gave him a slight slap against his back, meaning every word of it.

Player 007’s face contracted with pain and sorrow. – “This is the asshole that ruined my life.” – he let out, lip quivering. – “Ya!” – he let out, throwing the stone hard down. With anticipation you watched. Watched as the stone got knocked over. Circle pink suit showing off an O with his hands. Pass. Cheers erupted from within your group. Even louder cheers overpowering.

It made you look to the side. Seeing some players that were waiting had gone up. Cheering along with your victories. The underdogs getting cheered on. – “Way to go!” – you recognized Thanos’s voice loud.

3:30. Arms locked in, you ventured forwards. One two, one two, one two. Huffing and puffing with each step. Reaching the next game. Gong-gi. Player 149 accepted the tiny pieces. A pink suit placing the wooden platform down. All of you came kneeling down with a loud exhale. She grabbed the first piece.

Throwing it up to snatch two at a time from the wood. Throwing the next one up, she swiped her hand over the wood to grab two more. Her hand closing yet one red piece slipping through, hitting the wood hard. Your muscles pulled together. Knowing each failure took away your time. Panting loud, heart beating loud in your chest as you tried not to see on what the timer stood.

Player 120 interfered in your little panic breathing, covering your mouth up. Forcing you to look back at her. With one simple gesture of hers, she managed to calm you down. Player 007 grabbed his mother by her tracksuit. – “You said you played Gong-gi with bullets in the Korean war!” – he lectured at her. Giving back the same attitude she had given him before.

She took a deep breath letting the pieces shake in her hand. With swiftness and focus she tossed them on the wood. Almost blindly grabbing for them. Tossing a piece up, taking the rest. With all she tossed them up, catching them with the back of her hand. – “Mom.” – her son began once more to give her that extra comfort.

“Just imagine the stone is dad’s mistress’ face.” – he pointed almost with hatred at the stone. – “Rotten b*tch!” – she screamed out with disgust. Tossing them all up, hand moving back, snatching them from the air with a swift motion.

With barely any tremble left, she opened her hand to the pink circle suit. They formed an O with their hands. Pass. Screams and cheers erupted from the entire room. Bathing in victory. Player 120 pulled you up as the others followed. Nodding reassuringly at you.

It was only that you stood up that you truly realized you were up next. For a while now, you felt like a watcher. Watching your team stride to victory, you had forgotten you had to participate as well. Your legs feeling like jelly. Player 120 feeling your strength falter as she had to keep you upright with each step.

With each step you got closer to your task. The pink suit came blocking your view, holding out a box with the spinning toll and rope in it. You needed a nudge from player 120 to get in motion. With trembling hands and shaking knees you accepted it. The pink suit moved away as your eyes fell on the pool of blood on the ground. 

Shuddering out a gasp as it made you stumble a bit backwards. – “400 you got this.” – Player 120 said with comfort. Nodding shakily, you started to wrap the rope around the toll. Panting loud as you already felt the sweat form on your forehead. Heart beating loudly in your chest. The clock ticking panickily loud in your ears.

Turning it too fast, the rope slacked, making you need to roll it again. You felt your teammates grunt at the failure. You started again. Rolling it up. Feeling the pressure of a hundred eyes on you. Breathing shakingly as your gaze flashed to the countdown. Not doing any good to your nerves. The rope flopped as you needed to start again.

“Don’t look at the timer, you have enough time.” – player 120 spoke calmly. Nodding shakily, you could feel the sweat drip down your neck. Rolling the rope over the toll a third time. – “Take your time.” – the mother let out with a frantic pant. It only made you more nervous. – “Please stop talking.” – you replied with a shaky voice. Feeling a hand on your back, you presumed Player 120 was keeping her quiet behind your back.

The rope slipped once more due to your sweaty hands. – “I…I…I can’t do this…” – you panted out. Player 120 grabbed you firm by the shoulders, making you face her. – “You can do this!” – she let out. Making you believe every word of her. Your eyes gliding over the crowd, looking for your other friends.

They all had a fear in their eyes, you wished you rather had not seen. Young-il standing amidst them. He had a smile on his lips. Fist in the ready to chant for you. Cheer you on from the side-line. – “Breath and roll!” – Player 120 reassured you. You nodded with a new found encouragement. This time you could take control back. 

Have a say in whether you could live or die. You took the rope, rolling it around the toll. Not here. You weren’t going to be responsible for their deaths. Not now nor ever. Exhaling deep, you let the toll spin. The tip hit the ground as it toggled, spun and remained upright.

The loudest cheer released itself from you. The adrenaline shooting through your veins like a bullet. Player 120 firmly grabbed your arm once more. Heading for the final game. The crowd cheering you on. One two, one two, one two. All with their first pumping in the air. Knowing your friends were cheering you on from the side-line. “You must kick the jegi five times.”

The emotionless woman’s voice spoke through the intercom. Player 120 leaned a bit in. – “Please look away.” – she asked. Without hesitation you did. Turning around. She then turned to the crowd. – “Look away!” – she shouted loud. Everyone got in motion, shoving others to turn their backs as well.

“One.” – player 095 breathed out. – “Two.” – player 007 counted further. – “Three.” – player 149 whispered out, squeezing her eyes shut. – “Four.” – you added seeing the timer on the clock. A fifth sound made you all turn around. – “Five!” – Player 007 showed.

Player 120 could hardly believe it. The pink suit swinging their arms up to form an O. The euphoria shooting like fireworks through your body. Making you shout and scream in pure emotions. Needing that little moment of victory.

A player from the side gave player 120 a little shove to continue. The timer still going down. The entire room supporting and cheering for your team. Fists flying in the air. A heavenly feeling. The finish line in sight with four seconds on the clock. Three. Two. You kept your gaze forwards, determined to reach the finish.

One. The pink ribbon in sight. Player 149 let out a scream of tears as the ribbon snapped. Zero. The room erupted in chaos. Pure raw emotion as they all went wild. Shouting, jumping and throwing their fists up in the air. You started to cry, completely drained out.

Looking behind you, you saw them all cheer. Young-il grabbing Gi-hun in pure blissful that you had made it. That you had made it over the finish line. Your other friends joining in for the underdogs had done it. Cheers becoming louder than the fear. Player 120 pushed you closer to the others, cheering and jumping in a tight group.

All sweaty and crying. For death had missed another chance at you. Pink suits opened the doors for you to walk out. You got unhooked from your teammates. Looking back at your friends you jumped up and down. Bathing in your glory. Seeing the happiness on their faces made you forget for a moment about all the horrors.

Your teammates and you started to walk out. Giving one comforting gesture at your friends that you believed in them. Once you arrived back at the sleeping quarters, you truly felt how drained you were. Almost falling down against player 120 from exhaustion. She had to hold you up right whilst helping you to sit down. Exhaling loud, you let your head lean against her shoulder.

She wrapped her arm around you. Sighing relieved to live another day. After regaining a bit more of your strength, you sat up straight. Taking the moment to get to know each other. Geum-ja kept talking about preparing a good meal for you all once you got out. You were not really listening to her. Attention drawn elsewhere.

Eyes constantly going back to the door to see who would come out. Your friends still needed to play and you needed to be sure to see them come through that door. You don’t know if you would survive if they didn’t. A part of you wanted to be there and cheer them on as euphoric as they had. Yet another part of you didn’t want to see them struggle.

Didn’t want to relive the stress from them passing through with as much struggle as you did. You couldn’t even think about it if they would be shot in front of your eyes. You just couldn’t. Hyun-ju touched your shoulder, sensing what was haunting you. – “They’ll come through, just you wait.” – she told you.

You wanted to believe her very much. Holding on to the little hope she was giving you. Please, please, please come through. Hands pressed together, you knee trembled. With each other group that entered, you got more desperate. Desperate to see them once again. Hyun-ju took your hand to ease your nerves. Giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Unnie what if they don’t make it.” – you said to her, tears pooling in your eyes. – “They will.” – she reassured you with a smile. Tugging some hair behind your ear. – “They will.” – she repeated. You leaned up against her, craving the comfort she was giving you. Then the doors opened. Gi-Hun entering first. Young-il second as it made you stand up. Face contracting with emotions as you let out a relieving gasp.

Making your way through, you jumped down the platform to run at them. – “Y/n!” – Dae-ho called out. He opened his arms to you as you ran straight into them. Picking you off your feet with a spin. He dropped you back down as you moved over to Jun-hee. Hugging her tightly, both of you crying even more. Feeling a presence behind you, made you let go of her.

Turning around, nearly bumping firm against Young-il. His expression unreadable. You cracked up a smile, pressing your hands against his cheeks in joy to see him once more. Your touch shaking Young-il. It made him flutter his eyes, releasing the stern expression. Settling with bliss. Everything around him fading away. Staring back in your eyes. Only seeing you in this moment.

“Y/n!” – Jung-Bae called out, drawing your attention away. Young-il felt your hands slip from against his cheeks. Staring with sorrow in his eyes back at you. Somehow craving your touch on his once more. You joined the others in a group hug. He intentionally moved closer. His body needing to be closer to you. To want you all for himself somehow.

You turned to smile at him. An instant smile growing on his lips. Your smile suddenly faltering. Reminded once again of where you were. These moments of happiness were devilish. Blinding you each time off the truth till the hard reality of the games came swinging at your face once more.

For it is time for another vote.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[ang3ltine]

𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 ꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ - 𝖿𝗍 𝖲𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (18+) MDNI!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were getting ready to meet up with friends who you've missed so much and haven't see them in a while, Se mi on the other hand became a little jealous.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, dirty talk, fingering , mean dom! Se mi, slightly bratty sub!freader and implications of angst

" You're the worst "

You were a breathless mess, with mascara stained tears streaking down your rosy cheeks. The pretty little lace dress was stripped from your body and was thrown next to your vanity.

"Oh...? Trust me sweet thing , we're only just getting started "

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

It was around 7am in the morning as you started getting ready for an important date with your friends.

Lotte World usually has a long line soon after opening , so you guys decided to arrive there early by 9 am sharp.

You hadn't seen them for a while, so you were pretty excited. Today, you picked out a white lace dress with a layered skirt and puffed long sleeves with cuffs. It had a corset like design, and you paired the dress with thigh-high socks with trimmed lace and pale lavender ballerina sneakers.

"Hm? Why're you getting dolled up so early in the morning?" a pair of arms hugged your waist, the voice hoarse from sleeping. Se mi rests her chin atop your shoulder. She had messy bedhair that fell over her eyes, as she watched you intently while you applied the final step to your makeup.

Your sugary pink lipgloss that smells of Strawberries and Vanilla.

"Oh uhh well I'm going out with some friends today. I thought you already knew?", Se mi hummed to yourself as she thinks back to yesterday.

"Nope," giving an emphasis on the p, "I thought we we're gonna sleep in today...".

"I'm sorry Se mi but I really miss hanging out with my friends, I haven't seen them in so long," you say gently while you turn around to cup her cheeks and gingerly kiss her lips.

The kiss awakened something within her and she wanted to taste more.

"Can't you cancel and go another day?", the finger that was tracing the shape of your hip came up to swipe at your bottom lip.

"There's no reason for you to not spend time with me right now..", her voice going an octave deeper and you can see the pools in her eyes darkened with desire.

She had already reached for the back of your dress,undoing the neatly tied bows. You swiftly caught hold of her hands before she could fully take it off.

"Look babe, I'm really not in the mood for your jealousy act right now. I can't just cancel my plans just because you wanna satisfied your needs."

You had no intentios of snapping at her but before you could apologise, she hauls you over her shoulder and plops you down onto your shared bed. Making you sink into the plush pillows beneath you.

"Shit, please, I didn't mean to-" , Se mi shuts you up by locking her lips with yours. Nibbling on your bottom lip, making you whine. Almost drawing out some blood.

She carefully hikes the hem of the skirt up, revealing your dainty pink underwear.

"Oh? What do we have here..?", she drawls as her slender fingers crept over your throbbing cunt. You're not sure when it happened but you only grew more wet just by her painfully hot touch.

She gathers your slick, making it act as lube as she glides over your clit. You tried closing your legs cause you didn't want her to win so easily.

But she was too quick and pried them open and then reached for you phone from the dresser.

" You can't seriously be cancelling my plans just because you're horny are you??", you managed to breathe out as she types with one hand and skillfully undresses you with the other.

" I can and I will," she simply states after sending the message with a ping.

At this point you were oozing of annoyance as you tried covering yourself. There was no way you were gonna let her have you after ruining your planned day out.

"Aww is the princess upset? I'm sorry your highness but nows not the time to be pouty", Se mi mused while trying to get you to look at her. Refusing to look at her.

" Hey I'll make it up to you ok? Just work with me here" Just barely giving in you gave her a 'get on with it' look. Honestly it turned her on seeing you so mad.

Only making her want to ruin you even more.

Slipping past your underwear she teasingly ghosts the hole of your cunt, making you shiver with anticipation. Deep down you want this. You wanted her.

She smirked as she noticed your facial expression contour into pleasure and finally stuck her index finger inside. Deep enough for an audible squelch to echo in your bedroom.

You mewl as she groans at the feeling of your walls squeeze around her, hitting the spongy part just right that makes you go absolutely insane.

"Not so poised now are you?", she snickers while you roll your eyes at her comment. You grab the hem of her shirt and pull her into a seering hot kiss. You couldn't let her have all the fun.

Tugging at the ends you asked for permission to take it off. She tuts and guides your hand towards the nape of your neck.

"Uh I don't think so. A spoilt little brat like you doesn't deserve to be rewarded..", her voice going an octave deeper as she only became more amused at your reaction.

God you hated her.

An hour into the session, she has you in her lap as you lay your head on her shoulder. Already becoming exhausted from the constant thrusting from Se mi's slender fingers.

"Fuck", Se mi hissed as the grip on your hip tightened. Almost certainly leaving a bruise mark on your supple skin.

"Do that for me again love", you didn't have time to react as she pulls out tantalisingly slow and eagerly shoves it back in.

You keen, long and guttural as she continues hitting at your g-spot. Your pelvis unkowngly bucks into her hand, wanting more than you could take.

Se mi nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving a series of dark hickeys all over down your bare chest. Your nipples perked as she has one mound in her mouth and the other between her unoccupied fingers.

After a while she let's go with a pop and grabs your ass making you rise up and slam back down on her fingers. You cried out and instinctively reach up and tangled your fingers in her raven hair

"I" slam "Still hate you", you sneer slightly despite being in a euphoric state.

"Oh, rude aren't we?" She snickered as your breath caught in your throat, you would've retorted had she not stuck another finger in. Twisting and going deeper than before to make you more dumbed out.

A dirty cheater for sure.

"Ugh...!! I-- did you have to ruin my dress too-?", you managed to hiss out while you peered down at the smug women beneath you.

You were an absolute mess, mascara stained tears ran down your cheeks. The curls of your hair unravelled and cascaded down your shoulders and your perfect pink lips, swollen and slightly bleeding.

"Don't worry babe, I'll buy you a new one", she cooes while she moves a stray strand of hair away from your face.

It was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, but another thing to have a partner so smart yet bossy as you, being desperate for her to ruin your cunt.

"Shit babe!! Right there--!"

She had you fucking on her fingers for so long you couldn't even check the time on the clock, your vision blurred from your tears. At last you finally burst, unleashing a wave.

Helping you ride through your orgasm until the only thing heard in the room was lewd , wet noises coming from your sopping cunt.

Se mi, was stuffing your own juices back into you at this point, you couldn't really tell if it was that or her fingers were just too filling.

You both were panting, one more than the other. Se mi lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. She softly placed a kiss on your damp forehead as she makes her way down the corridor, heading for the washroom to give you a nice warm bath.

Your beautiful lace dress, discarded and long forgotten.

" Let's get you cleaned up princess" ♡

[babyimyurs]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧’𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

~

Hwang in-ho ( the frontman ) x reader.

A/N: this will be a multi series. haven’t proof read

Warnings: nothing. I’m sure if you watched squid game you’ll be fine with this.

opening: you have been working alongside gi-hun for years after he came out of the games, after hearing his story it connected a few dots from your older brothers disappearance. After arriving at the games you found out that both of yours and gi-hun’s tracker implants have gone missing, you came face to face with your biggest nightmare… playing the game.

-

After playing red light, green light you hoped that you didn’t have to wake up the next day, you had no clue that a simple children’s game could have that amount of blood and death in it. After agreeing that you would join gi-hun’s plan, he told you all about the rule that ‘when your eliminated, your gone for good’ you didn’t really believe him but now you definitely do.

a part of you also wondered how long your brother survived.. a day? two? three? you wish you could of just slapped him silly and got him a job in your coffee shop. But- here you was awakening by the sound of classical music playing out of a speaker and metal squeaking as all the players started to move around in their bed.

you woke feeling not tired at all, not even doing the usual ‘rubbing your eyes and yawning’. Probably due to your lack of sleep or the amount of trauma you got from the day previous.

“y/n.. hey.. y/n” you heard a voice, a familiar one.. a frantic gi-hun was standing next to your bed, tapping your arm. “gi-hun, you okay?” you said which gi-hun replied with a shrug as he looked around at the players. “your telling me that everytime we wake up we’re going to hear that music?” you huffed, looking up at the speakers. “trust me, that should be the least of your worry.. I still can’t figure out how they managed to get our tracking chips” gi-hun said, now looking at you with a face of absolute confusion.

“players please line up in two cues to get breakfast” a woman’s voice from a speaker said in her usual happy tone. “come on, maybe a bite to eat will make us think” gi-hun proposed hitting the metal post of your bed, waiting for you to get up and join a line.

upon waiting in the cue, you and gi-hun got a load of looks and whispers.. few that said “look there’s the mad man” , “do you think they are a couple?” , “a nearly died because of that punk shouting”. you both ignored them and soon enough you received a bread roll and a carton of milk.

“hey y/n.. take my milk, you know my stomach doesn’t take it well” gi hun said, handing over his carton as you both took a seat on some steps next to jungbae and dae ho. you got to know the guys after red light, green light, gi-hun introduced jungbae to you saying that they were friends outside the game and well dae ho.. introduced himself to group after hearing over the discussion on what the next game could be which will now happen after the big vote that went on. That’s right. The vote. most of the players after red light, green light started begging to let them go and it ended with a massive vote to either stay or go and of course majority said stay.

“excuse me..” a voice approached the group, your wasn’t very familiar with it but after looking up it was the guy that came over to gi-hun after the vote, young-ill his name was.

“you all wouldn’t mind if I joined this group? a lot of players are talking about the next game being a team game. most of the groups formed already are teams of five and there are only four of y-“ young-ill said before getting dramatically cut off by dae ho “yes! you look very strong and have good thinking! reminds me of a pal i had when i was in the marines!” he said, putting his arm around his shoulder and patting his head.

you laughed, finding the situation of how dae ho was younger than young-ill and still acting like the oldest funny. “of course, take a seat” gi-hun said, his tone not one hundred percent certain on this guy as he gave you a look of ‘keep a eye on him’.

“I say why not! what about you y/n can 001 join us?” Jungbae asked to which you just shrugged and looked over at the group “I don’t mind..” you said which got a kind smile off young-ill.

“Well welcome welcome double one!” dae ho said, looking over at young-ill as he took a bite out of his bread roll. “ah.. Thank you” young-ill replied, taking a look at everyone but lingering on you suspiciously long. “I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation before.. wanna take my milk too? I’m in the same situation as 456” young-hill said, looking over at you.. passing his carton of milk over to you.

You looked at him for a moment before shaking your head with a smile “thank you, but I think dae ho wants it more than me” you replied, pointing over to dae ho who was staring at the milk carton like he was an lion eyeing up its prey. Young- ill understood and nodded passing it over to dae ho instead.. his smile dropping almost like he was planning to give you the milk from the start.

“All players please make your way to the game hall.. the next game will be starting shortly” an announcement called out from the speaker which gave you a fright, spilling the milk that you was drinking on yourself. “fuck!” You groaned out of annoyance, taking your zip up jumper off and throwing it besides you as you and your team stood up.

you started to walk to the game hall before young-ill couldn’t help himself but approach you “you’ve got some- may I?” He said, pointing to your chin which had a white stripe of milk running down it. how embarrassing. Before you could answer young-ill had already brought his jumpers wrist and wipe it off for you.

“there you go..” he said, looking at you with a kind smile. “thank you, I didn’t realise- that could of been embarrassing” you said getting a little too flustered in the moment, you couldn’t lie to yourself he was attractive. “ah.. it was nothing, don’t thank me.. okay?” he said, looking up at your eyes before glancing down to your lips in a quick motion. you nodded, noticing the look and shaking the intimate motion off completely by hitting his shoulder and walking ahead “we’re going to be late! come on!”.

young-ill watched you walk off out of the door, now being left in the holding room with a bunch of guards. “whatever you do, keep that one safe..” he said, which in return got a bunch of nods and with that he walked out the door too.

// ahhh! okay this was my first ever fic on here and why not make it a inho x reader because that man is the death of me at the moment. hopefully part two won’t take long to come out since I do have coursework to do and all but also let me know if you guys have any squidgame one shot ideas you’d want to request me to write :)

[chaotic-mystery]

Hotline to Heaven | Joel Miller x reader

✧ Summary: An inquisitive man gets more than what he's used to when he pushes the wrong number on a phone sex hotline.

✧ Content Warnings: MDNI ! 18+ only. dom!reader, sub!joel, pre outbreak, empty house means he's up to no good, porn connoisseur, phone sex, dirty talk ( i mean duh) mutual masturbation, swearing, orgasm denial, safeword mentioned but not used, talking him through it this time, a little aftercare, slight mention of one of my favorite movies bc I know Joel would've liked it too.

✧ Authors Note: This is my submission for @wannab-urs DMAMC 2025 that you can find the masterlist here. A goal of mine this year is to step out of my writing bubble when it comes to challenges and write things I normally wouldn't on my own. If you read my work, you know this is a roles reversed situation for me and I'm nervous to share it but also excited! Thank you, Gin, for letting me be a part of this, I love you <3 As always big ups to my twin for beta reading for me, love you, Ali.

red line divider | cover and matching dividers made by (Ali) & I |

✧ WC: 2.4K | masterlist | requests | update blog | ✧

Being a single dad was not an easy job, but Joel made it work somehow. With lots and lots of pancakes and promised sleepovers at friends houses if Sarah kept her grades up. 

Another Friday night at home alone while Sarah was in the next town over, probably hopped up on soda and candy, Joel digs out his laptop from the bag on the floor and sets it up on the cherrywood coffee table. The house was quiet for the most part, the low humming of the dryer down the hallway in the laundry room. 

Booting up the old computer, Joel tilts his head back on the sofa and makes sure his brown curtains are closed along with the white blinds he just put up a few weeks ago. Joel's finger moves against the worn trackpad, opening up the DVD rom to pop in the movie he rented from blockbuster on his drive home from dropping off Sarah. 

Joel reads the cover while it loads to open. His favorite actress being the main character got him all excited and may have been the only reason he rented it to begin with. It definitely wasn’t because she was playing a vampire in a latex bodysuit.

About halfway through the movie and many scenes later of this character being an absolute badass, Joel could feel the growing tension in his jeans. Wanting to take care of the problem to finish the movie he'd grown invested in, he pauses it and opens up a web browser and goes to his tried and true adult website. The amount of pop up ads always annoyed him, he just wanted to find something to watch and keep it moving. 

Until tonight. 

A banner flashes right above the search bar filled with his previous endeavors, the colors immediately catching his eyes. 

“What the hell is this?” He mutters to himself as he watches the words change. 

A number pops up with tiny images of girls in the corner of the banner. Feeling adventurous, he digs out his phone from his pocket and dials the number before it changes to a new ad. 

He’s met with an automated message, overly seductive and giving him the rundown of what he’s getting himself into. His finger hovers over the pound button to confirm he was consenting to this, that he was willing to continue. The line beeps a few times before a new message starts to play. 

”Press one if you want to meet me, the girl next door.” 

The voice changes to a new girl, “press two if you want to fix my leaky pipes.” 

Another different voice, “press three if you want to punish me for not turning in my college essay.”

”Press four to meet me and my best friend, Layla.”

”Hit five if you wanna romp in the hay with me, yeehaw!”

Joel snickers at the generic attempt at a southern accent. 

“Call me into your office by pressing six!”

Joel could hardly contain himself at all the options he was given, and he had three more he’d yet to hear. 

“Select seven to meet me, Vixen the d-“ 

Before the voice finished speaking, his finger pushed a button and he wasn’t sure which one he chose. Frankly, he was excited for any of them.

Your line was ringing and it wasn’t too often it did, no one usually got past Katie and Layla. 

Picking up the phone, you smile when you hear the southern drawl in his words. 

“Have you been a bad boy today?” You almost whisper into the phone before he responds. 

“Y-yes, I have, darlin.” His tone was a little confused, unsure of what he just answered.

You grin and sit up straighter. 

“Well, good thing I’m in the mood to punish you.”

Joel’s eyes widen and he doesn’t know what to say. This wasn’t the number he meant to push. He wasn’t really the type of man to want to be told what to do.

From anyone. 

“Darlin’ can you tell me which button I pushed by chance?”

He was trying to be as polite as he could and you were going to have some fun with this. 

“You pushed seven and here I am; Vixen the Dom.” Smirking at the quiet line, you wonder for a split second if he hung up.

“I-I’m sorry…dom? I don’t know if this is really something I’m into. I mean, that’s great if you’re someone who can but that doesn’t sound like me.”

“I get it. You can’t let go of that control, scared to see a new side to yourself. I understand. If you want to hang up and redial I understand.”

Joel hesitates hanging up and he glides his tongue over his bottom lip.

“What exactly…would I be getting myself into with you, Vixen?”

What a curious man. 

“You’d give me control, no backtalk, no resisting, you submit to me. There’s a safeword we can use at any point if it gets to be too much for you. At that point I’d stop and we can calm down, just talk. I never get mad at someone using a safe word.”

“A-and what’s the safe word?” The temptation in his voice shows you he’s interested. 

“Hopscotch.” 

His chuckle rings through your ear and makes your face warm, giggling at his reaction. 

“So, you’ve stayed here this long and I can tell you’re curious. Are you going to let me take control of you, I didn’t get your name” You state, trying to guess before he answers.

“Joel. Names Joel. It’s a pleasure to spend the night with you tonight, Vixen.” 

The respect he was giving already showed you how natural it came to him, he was this way in his day to day life. 

“You’re going to be my good boy tonight, Joel?” 

“Y-yes” he hesitantly responds. 

“Yes, ma’am. Repeat it.” Goosebumps raise on your arms and the excitement shakes your core

“Yes ma’am.”

“I’m going to tell you what to think, what to say, I’m going to do everything I want to you until you’re begging me to let you come.” You bite your lip and smirk, your body excited for this phone call. 

“I want you to close your eyes and I want you to grab your bulge and rub it, slowly for me,” You say sternly but seductively, propping your legs up so your knees are bent, freehand resting on your abdomen.

You can hear his belt jingle and some shuffling from the other end of the phone, causing you to smirk. He doesn’t get it, it’s new for him. It was painfully obvious but you decided to take it slow for his first time. 

“I didn’t say to undo your belt and ditch your pants, did I? I said rub your bulge, just rub it.”

“Y-yes ma’am.” His breath was shaky from anticipation and nerves, it was cute. He has no idea what he’s getting himself into with you.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby. Tell me what you want,” you tease, your fingers dancing above your panty line. 

“I wish you were here right now. Tell me to lay on my back while you get on top and ride my face until I'm begging for air. I want you to use me until you come all over my face and make me clean you up before you ride my big dick. Use me, Ms. Vixen, p-please.” Joel’s whimpers make you feel that boiling heat in your stomach before you feel your panties get wet, for a half second he takes your breath away.

“Ms.Vixen? Hm, you’re learning quickly I see. Reach in your pants and take your cock out for me, get it nice and wet. I want to hear how needy you are for me.”

You hear his belt unbuckle followed by the soft sound of him spitting into his hand, married with a groan of pleasure. 

“Now, you want to be my good boy tonight, right?” You ask and dip your hand inside your panties, softly teasing yourself. This was so unlike you, normally you didn’t want to touch yourself during a call. He was different. 

”You aren’t going to come until I tell you, alright? Think you can handle that, baby?” 

“I can handle that, yes ma’am.”

Hearing the wet sounds from him jerking his cock off makes you grin and a moan almost slips out but you catch yourself and give a small giggle. 

”It’s cute the way you fuck your hand and pretend its my pussy, big grown man just aching to be put in his place. I want to watch your face when I slip your cock inside me, baby. I’ll keep a fistful of your hair so you keep your eyes on me, let me watch you go to another planet when you realize how deep you are.”

Joel moans loudly and he can’t catch his breath as he imagines how good it would feel inside you and to be used by you. 

“Y-yes please, Vixen. Ride my cock and make yourself feel good, I can be whatever you want me to be.”

You circle your clit faster as your legs tremble, your moans swirling together to sound like a beautiful harmony. 

“I can ride you and wrap my hand around your throat while I put my panties in your mouth to keep you quiet, wouldn’t want anyone to hear those pretty whimpers, now would we?”

“Can-can you tell me what your panties look like, darlin’? Please.” Joel stutters out and moans just thinking about it.

Biting your lip, you hold the handset closer to your mouth as you continue fingering your soaked cunt with your other hand.

“They’re lace, black of course. With a little red bow right in front of the waistband. Sick little pervert you are. Makes my pussy so wet thinking about you trying to moan my name but I can’t understand you with them in your mouth. Even when you’re begging for more, begging to come I can’t hear you.”

Joel groans louder and all you can see in your head as your eyes are squeezed shut is how handsome he sounds Just the pretty whimpers he makes has you thinking how good looking he must be, how his dick is so slippery in his fist from all the precum and spit. 

“I bet you’d lose your mind if I pinned your hands down and really took all control from you, wouldn’t you baby? You’d squirm and try to touch me but you can’t, not while I’m playing with you like a toy. You’re my toy, do you hear me? Mine. Say you’re mine while you jerk off.” Your breaths get shorter as you moan softly, finally letting him hear how turned on you are. 

“I’m just your playtoy, Ms.Vixen. Onl-ly yours. I p-promise. Fuck it feels so good, shit.” 

The silk sheets under your skin slide under you as you squirm, giving into him a little more with each beg he cries out. This feels like heaven and you can’t get enough of him. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to keep him on the phone longer, partially because you didn’t know if he’d ever call again. 

“Let go of your pretty cock. Don’t touch it and listen to me.” You demand calmly and smirk when you hear him groan in annoyance.

“Is that an attitude I hear?” you ask condescendingly. 

“No ma’am, no ma’am.” he quickly retorts. Good boy. 

“I’ve got two fingers inside me right now but they just don’t compare to your cock I bet. You’d probably keep me up all night and let me turn you every which way but loose, hm? Think you could keep up with me, sweetheart? How about I cuff your hands to the bed and suck your cock until you can’t take it anymore and beg to paint my face with your cum.”

You can hear a slew of profanities and Joel groans almost in pain and he whines, “God dammit that’s so hot. Please let me jerk off, baby. It’s killing me not to touch myself while I think about stuffing you full of my dick. Your perfect body on mine, what a pleasure that would be. Please, may I touch myself?”

Clamping your legs closed so you don’t come yourself, you tell him to continue and soon once more your moans mix together. 

“I-I need to come, Ms.Vixen. Please let me be a goodboy and come, p-please-oh fuckkk-”

“You want to come for me, baby boy? I’m going to have to think about whether you deserve it or not, sweetheart.” 

“Let me show you how good you make me feel, I need you so bad. C���mon baby-oh shittt- please?”

Your breath hitches in your throat and you have this aching urge to hear him come and whimper in your ear. Hearing men be so whiny when they come was music to your ears. 

“Go on then, show me the pretty sounds you make when you come, baby. Jerk that fuckin’ cock off while you think about me. Think about coming on my tits, these pretty fucking titties that would look even better with your cock between them. C’mon honey, come for me, right now. Be my favorite toy.”

That was all he needed to hear before he was groaning loudly into the phone, enough to make you cover your mouth and come with him. Couldn’t let him know how down bad he already had you. 

Your ears were ringing slightly but you could still hear the shuffling from his end, probably cleaning himself up and the mess he made. 

“You alright over there, big guy?” You ask, trying to calm your breathing. 

“It was a lot, let’s just say I made a mess” he chuckles and sighs tiredly.

“How was that for your first time being a sub? I tried to take it slow for you.” 

“That was uh, that was the best time I’ve had in a while. You really know what you’re doing, huh? I’d love to call you again, maybe your direct line next time?” 

You shake your head and chuckle at him. Silly boy. 

“I had a fun time tonight, Joel. Maybe if you call me again I’ll think about giving you my phone number.”

“Fair enough. Thank you, Vixen. It was a pleasure. Good night.”

“Good night, my good boy.” 

The line goes silent and Joel puts his cellphone down on the couch cushion beside him, taking a deep breath as he circles back over everything he just did. Closing out of the tab and continuing his movie, he enjoyed it but Joel couldn’t stop thinking about you the rest of the night. 

Even when he was in his bed trying to sleep, you consumed his brain and he needed more. 

A lot more, but of course, only if you let him. 

[nomie-11]

Vi x Reader - I Love You, I'm Sorry

masterlist!

“Really, Vi?” You practically spat, face to face with a girl you thought you knew. “You’re running with the enforcers now? Since when were you a bluebelly?”

The grimace on her face was set in firm lines, hard and unyielding and so unlike the Vi you once knew. This was her—same powder blue eyes, same fiery pink hair, same cheekbones, same lip shape, but your Vi would never betray you like this. 

“This is for you, this is for Zaun,” god, even the words tasted like a lie on her tongue, but she wouldn’t admit it. “Jinx is a danger to us both topside and here in the undercity. You should know that!”

“Is that the lie you’re telling yourself to justify this!?” You were practically vibrating with anger, fists clenched tightly at your sides. “I loved you, Vi. What are you doing?” 

Vi’s face twisted, a crack of pain breaking through her tough facade. “I—” she started, but her words fell apart. 

The silence that stretched between you felt louder than the pounding of your heart. You could barely breathe, your chest heaving with rage, disbelief, and heartbreak. 

“You loved me? Don’t you dare use that in the same breath as selling me out,” you snapped, stepping closer to her. You didn’t care about the enforcer shadowing her, a step behind with one hand hovering near her weapon. All you could see was Vi, standing there with a badge at her hip and gilt in her eyes. “I trusted you. You swore you’d never betray us. Never betray me.” 

“This isn’t about betrayal!” Vi shot back, her voice trembling as she raised her hands, trying to calm you or herself—you couldn’t tell. “This is about stopping you before it’s too late. You’ve gone too far, Y/n. The arson, the—” she hesitated, jaw tightening. “The murders. Working with—”

“With Silco!?” You laughed, a dry, bitter sound. “That’s what she told you, isn't it?” You gestured sharply to the enforcer—Caitlyn—her perfect Piltover uniform untouched by the grime of Zaun. “Let me guess, she spun some story about me being a terrorist, and you just ate it up because she’s got a fancy accent and a badge.” 

“That’s not—” Vi started, but Caitlyn’s voice cut through her hesitation. 

“She’s dangerous, Vi. You know that.” Caitlyn’s tone was level, professional, but her gaze flicked to you with a mix of wariness and disdain. “We need to bring her in—now.” 

“Jinx and I have done more for this city than you ever could! We’ve brought hope back to Zaun and you’re trying to rip it to shreds! What about my parents? What about your parents!” Your heart cracked, splintering into sharp, jagged pieces. You took another step forward, daring Vi to stop you. “So, what’s it going to be, Vi? Do you believe her?” You pointed at Caitlyn. “Or me?” 

Vi hesitated, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the girl you fell in love with. The girl who once fought for Zaun, for her family, for you. But then she looked at Caitlyn, and everything shattered. 

“I love you,” Vi whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m sorry.” 

The words hit you like a blow to the chest. Your vision blurred, not from tears—no, you wouldn’t cry—but from a red-hot fury that burned through your veins. “No,” you growled, voice low and venomous. “Don’t you dare say that to me. You don’t get to say you love me and choose a Piltie over me.” 

“Y/n,” Vi said, stepping toward you, but you backed away, shaking your head. 

“Stay the hell away from me,” you spat, your voice trembling with anger and heartbreak. “You’re no better than the blue bellies who raided Zaun and tore our families apart. You’re just like them. You’re a traitor.”

The words cut deep—you saw it in the way Vi flinched, the way her hand wavered before falling uselessly to her side. But you didn’t care. Let her feel a fraction of th pain she had inflicted on you. 

Caitlyn stepped forward then, gun in hand. “Surrender peacefully, or this ends the hard way.”

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “You think I’m going down without a fight?” Your hands flexed at your sides, ready to grave the blade hidden beneath your coat. You knew it wasn’t a fair fight—two against one, with Caitlyn’s hextech rifle and Vi’s hextech fists—but you didn’t care. If this was how it ended, you’d make them work for it.

The fight erupted in a blur of movement. Caitlyn fired, but you ducked, the bullet ricocheting off a metal pipe. You lunged at Vi, and for a moment, your fists collided with hers—like old times, but with none of the playfulness, none of the love. 

“Y/n, stop!” VI shouted, blocking your strikes. Her voice was desperate, pleading. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

“Funny, because you already have,” You snarled, landing a blow that sent her stumbling back. But Caitlyn was there, quick and efficient, slamming the butt of her rifle into your side. Pain exposed in your ribs, but you didn’t falter. 

You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. 

It wasn’t long before they overwhelmed you. Caitlyn had you pinned, her knee digging into your back as she cuffed your hands. Vi stood over you, blood dripping from a cut above her eyebrow, her expression a mix of anguish and regret. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, struggling against the cuffs. “Don’t you dare look at me like that.” 

“I—” Vi started, but you cut her off. 

“You made your choice,” you spat. “You chose her. You chose Piltover. You chose everything you once swore to hate. And for what? A badge? A chance to play hero?” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Screw you, Vi.” 

Her face crumpled, and for a moment, you thought you saw tears in her eyes. But you didn’t care. Let her cry. Let her feel the weight of what she’d done. 

As Caitlyn hauled you to your feet, you fixed Vi with a glare, your voice cold and unyielding. “You’re dead to me, Vi. Don’t ever forget that.” 

-------

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[paige05bby]

Favorite Crime

summary: A UConn cheerleader reflects on a forbidden, passionate romance with basketball star Paige Bueckers.

a/n: based on Favorite Crime by Olivia Rodrigo

warning(s): just tension & heartbreak (sad ending)

pairing: paige bueckers x cheerleader!reader

“All the things I did, just so I could call you mine.”

It started like every cliché I’d ever scoffed at—a stolen glance, a lingering touch, a shared secret. Paige Bueckers was everything I was supposed to avoid. She was magnetic, untouchable, the golden girl of UConn basketball. Everyone wanted her, and she knew it.

I wasn’t supposed to be different. Just another cheerleader she charmed with her cocky smirk and honeyed words. But when she kissed me for the first time under the bleachers after a game, her hands gripping my waist like she’d fall apart if she let go, I let myself believe I was special.

She told me I wasn’t like the others, and I wanted it to be true. So I fell. Hard and fast, like a freefall with no parachute. I gave her everything—my time, my trust, my heart—even as the cracks began to form.

“The things you did, well, I hope I was your favorite crime.”

At first, it felt like a dream. She’d wait for me after practice, her hair still damp from the showers, her grin lighting up the hallway as she pulled me into a corner to kiss me senseless. She’d sneak into my dorm room after midnight, her laughter low and breathless as she whispered promises I was too desperate to question.

But then the lies started. The late nights she couldn’t explain. The unanswered texts. The faint smell of perfume on her hoodie that wasn’t mine.

“Do you still talk to them?” I asked one night, my voice barely above a whisper.

Her expression was unreadable as she tilted her head, feigning confusion. “Talk to who?”

“You know who.”

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “You’re overthinking again. Why does it matter?”

“Because it feels like I’m not enough for you,” I said, my voice cracking.

She stepped closer, her hands sliding around my waist. “You’re all I need,” she murmured, her lips brushing against mine. And for a moment, I believed her. I always believed her.

“You used me as an alibi, I crossed my heart as you crossed the line.”

But the doubts didn’t go away. I started noticing the way other girls looked at her, the way they lingered after games, desperate for her attention. Sometimes, I’d catch her flirting with them, her smile just a little too familiar, her laugh a little too easy.

“You can’t keep doing this,” I told her after one particularly painful moment, my voice shaking as we stood in the empty gym.

She shrugged, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn’t name. “They don’t mean anything,” she said. “You’re the one I go home to.”

But it wasn’t enough. I wasn’t enough.

“It’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we’d do.”

The fight happened after the biggest game of the season. She’d hit the game-winning shot, the crowd roaring as her teammates lifted her into the air. I should’ve been proud. I should’ve been happy.

But when I saw her outside the locker room, leaning casually against the wall with that infuriating smirk, all I felt was anger.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, my voice sharp.

“Thought you’d want to congratulate me ma,” she said, her tone light but her eyes serious.

“Congrats,” I said flatly, brushing past her. “You’re amazing. We all know it.”

Her hand shot out, grabbing my wrist. “Don’t do this,” she said, her voice low.

“Do what?” I snapped, spinning to face her. “Point out that you only care about me when it’s convenient? That you disappear whenever it gets hard?”

Her jaw tightened, her eyes flashing. “That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?” My voice rose, the words spilling out in a torrent of frustration and pain. “You act like I’m the only one, but you’re everywhere, Paige. You flirt with everyone, and I’m supposed to just… be okay with it?”

“You think I don’t love you?” she shot back, her voice trembling with anger.

“I think you don’t know how to,” I said, my voice breaking. “You love the attention, the game, the chase. But me? I’m just another name on your list.”

She stared at me, her breathing heavy, her expression unreadable. “You don’t get it,” she finally said, her voice cold. “I’ve given you everything I can.”

“Well, it’s not enough,” I whispered, tears streaming down my face.

“I hope I was your favorite crime.”

Years Later

The Dallas skyline glittered in the night as I adjusted my uniform, the sparkle of my cheerleading outfit catching in the stadium lights. It was just another Cowboys game, just another night in a life that was supposed to make me forget her.

And then I saw her.

She was standing on the sideline, WNBA warmups hanging off her tall frame, laughing with someone from the press. Paige. The same Paige. Older, sharper, somehow even more magnetic than she’d been back then.

My breath caught, my heart lurching in my chest as her eyes flicked over to me.

For a second, I thought she might not recognize me. But then her lips curved into that familiar smirk, and suddenly, I was 19 again, standing under the bleachers with her hands on my waist.

“Hey, stranger,” she said when she finally approached, her voice low and teasing.

“Paige,” I managed, forcing a smile. “Didn’t know you were in Dallas.”

She gestured to her jersey, the Dallas Wings logo bold on her chest. “Been here for a year. Guess we’re both in the same city again, huh?”

I laughed nervously, the weight of our history pressing down on me. “Yeah. Small world.”

Her eyes softened, the smirk fading. “You look good,” she said quietly. “Really good.”

I swallowed hard, my heart racing. “So do you.”

We stood there, the noise of the stadium fading into the background as the past crashed between us. I wanted to say so much—to ask if she ever thought about me, if she missed me, if she’d ever truly loved me.

But all I managed was, “It’s good to see you, Paige.”

She nodded, her smile wistful. “You too.”

And just like that, she was gone, walking back to her team, leaving me with the ache of everything we’d been and everything we never would be.

Paige Bueckers was still my greatest heartbreak, my deepest regret, and my favorite crime.

[tteotlma]

Sugar and Skin

First Encounter

Bucky’s never been sure if normalcy is something he’s cut out for. But when he meets you—a baker with a pretty smile—he starts to think maybe he could try.

TattooArtist!Bucky x Baker!Reader (1.4kw)

tw: 18+ MDNI, mild language, subtle tension, implied attraction, slow-burn, strangers to friends to lovers a/n: happy new year! this year i'd like to actually begin and complete a multi-parter story so this is my attempt!

---

“Welcome in!” Bucky heard as he stepped into the bustling cafe shop. The smell of freshly brewed coffee, and baked bread quickly engulfed him. He looked around for the source of the voice while taking in the neatly curated shelves of novels, mismatched wooden tables and the large handwritten chalkboard menu boasting about an array of the day’s specials. Despite its charm, Bucky felt heavily out of place in his chipped leather jacket, and mud cracked boots. 

With the patrons weaving past him like he was another display in the shop he continued scanning the area noticing a few stray cats lounging throughout the space. They basked in the early afternoon sunlight that poured through the large windows. One, a sleek gray cat with white mittens and socks stretched lazily on the windowsill, while another a white cat with piercing blue eyes, watched the room with curious intensity.

The customers greeted the felines as they entered the shop and followed the line that formed at the counter where a young man with boyish charm and unruly brown hair was expertly managing the register. Meanwhile a man with a clean shaven jawline and an infectious grin moved confidently between the counter and the coffee makers. 

“You need some help?”

Bucky turned to the voice, finding himself at the end of the display case with a woman on the other side. Her hair was pinned up in a loose bun, a few stray strands escaping to frame her face. She barely paid him any mind as she deftly unloaded a giant tray of assorted pastries and bread into the glass showcase, her movements quick and practiced. The faint smudges of flour on her apron and the way she handled each item with care hinted at her role in crafting the delicacies.

“You look a little lost,” she said without looking up, her tone teasing but not unkind. "Can I help you find something, or are you just here to admire the cats?” she asked, finally glancing up at him. Her gaze was sharp but warm, assessing him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

 Her teasing tone caught him off guard, making him glance up sharply. His ears seemed to perk slightly, before he quickly refocused. “Pick up,” he said, his voice low and clipped, offering her a tight-lipped smile that was more reflex than intentional. 

She let out a small hum. “Name?” 

“Steve.” 

“Oh yes–” Her demeanor instantly changed as she put the tray down, wiping her hands on her apron. “Let me get that for you.” Her hands masterfully opened a paper bag with clear cellophane, and slid open the sliding door to the showcase.

“Sam!” She yelled, causing Bucky to jolt. “I need Steven’s special.” She called out, and Bucky's eyes flicked back to her. Steven.

He heard a faint reply from across the cafe commotion and watched as she used the metal tongs to grab two bear claws from the wax paper lined tray. Bucky almost let out a snort but instead, he opted to shove his hands in his pockets, glancing down to his boots. He watched as crumbs of dirt crumbled from his shoe and littered the linoleum floor.

“What’s the Steven Special?” Bucky suddenly heard himself say. He looked at her through his lashes. He watched a small smile sneak across her lips. 

“A medium white chocolate macchiato, with two bear claws.” She said, fingers crinkling the bag shut as she slid it across the clear surface. This time Bucky let out a snort. Before he could thank her, she went back to unloading her discarded tray. He hesitated on grabbing the bag. 

“So you’re the new guy then?” She asked suddenly, quickly glancing at him. He looked at her. “Stevie's mentioned he’s expecting a new comer, and I’ve never seen you before so—” she explained. Stevie.

“Then yeah.” He gave a curt smile, reaching for the bag on the counter. 

“Thought so,” she said, her tone a hint lighter now as she turned back to her work. “He’s been talking ‘bout you for weeks, you know.”

“Nothing bad I hope.” 

 She turned to set down the now empty tray, glancing over her shoulder, a glint in her eye. “Depends on your definition of bad.” Her tone was playful but laced with just enough intrigue to make him pause. She spins swiftly, closing the display case. 

“Nah,” She shrugs with a smirk, “He’s just psyched you're here, it’s kinda cute.” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow. She waves a hand in the air.

“He’s just got this way of talking about things—”

“Order up.” 

The sudden burst out causing the both of you to abruptly turn toward the man holding out an oat-colored to-go cup.

The woman cleared her throat, shifting back to allow space for the man to step in. Her smirk faded into a polite, neutral expression, her focus now on adjusting a tray of napkins nearby.

“Steven’s special,” the man announced, his grin wide and easy, breaking through the tension that had lingered just a moment earlier.

Bucky’s eyes lingered on her for a moment longer before he turned toward the man, who was now leaning casually against the counter, holding the cup out as if he were presenting a prized trophy.

Bucky nodded and reached for the cup, his movements deliberate. “Appreciate it,” he said, his voice steady. 

“No problem,” the man replied, his tone light and teasing. “Better get it to him quick, he’s been talking about the claws all morning.” 

“Noted,” Bucky muttered, though his gaze flickered back toward the woman, who was now bent over another display, her attention fixed on her work as if the earlier exchange had never happened.

The man cleared his throat sharply, drawing Bucky’s attention. When Bucky turned toward him, he was already side-eyeing the woman before shifting his gaze back to Bucky with a deadpan expression. It wasn’t accusatory, but there was a challenge in the look—like he’d caught Bucky doing something he shouldn’t be.

Bucky’s brow twitched in response, his face otherwise impassive, and he adjusted the bag in his hand.

“Thanks again,” he said curtly, stepping back from the counter.

Sam held his gaze for a beat longer, then turned his attention away from him.

Bucky stepped toward the door, the hum of the café enveloping him once more. His grip tightened slightly on the bag as he moved, but something tugged at his attention, making him glance back one last time.

The man was now leaning against the counter, his posture relaxed, but his head tilted toward the woman. Whatever he’d said caused her to laugh softly, her shoulders shaking with the motion. The earlier ease in her posture had returned, her movements efficient and unbothered, as though their exchange had been nothing more than a routine part of her day.

She brushed a strand of hair from her face as she replied, her voice lost in the café’s hum. They shared another laugh.

Bucky’s jaw tightened, though his face betrayed nothing as he turned back toward the door. Pushing it open, he stepped into the cool air outside, the bell above jingling faintly as the door closed behind him.

As he walked down the street, the warmth of the café began to fade, but the soft intensity of the exchange lingered. He shook his head with a quiet huff of air, the bag crinkling faintly in one hand while the other held the to-go cup. His boots scuffed lightly against the pavement as he approached a sleek, dark car parked a few steps ahead.

Bucky unlocked it with a press of a button, the quiet beep breaking the stillness. Sliding into the driver’s seat, he set the paper bag on the passenger side and the cup in the holder before resting his hands on the steering wheel.

For a moment, he sat there, the hum of the café replaying in his mind. He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if to clear it.

With a twist of the key, the engine purred to life, the quiet power of the car grounding him. As he pulled out onto the street, the cool air rushing through the window carried away the lingering warmth of the café—but not entirely.

---

a/n: I know there's barely anything there but I have an idea and im jsut trying to roll with it -- so if you have any ideas let me know! i’m begging — pls reblog to support!

[wixhing0nastar]

From Hound to Hawkeye: The Evolution of Vi's Protector

I remember when I first saw the interview lines from Amanda Overton post-S2 talking about Vi's character arc this season and feeling a little confused by them at first. Who is Vi when she doesn't have anyone to protect? The type of person to fall in love. Which while beautiful, begged the question in my mind; what about Caitlyn?

But the more I've thought about it in the interim the more obvious the answer has become. Vi doesn't have anyone left to protect because Caitlyn doesn't need Vi to protect her. In fact, over the course of the show Caitlyn undergoes a journey to become Vi's protector. Specifically, Caitlyn steps in and fills the hole, that need for love and protection, that was left behind after Vander's death in Vi's youth.

And once I made that connection it was suddenly really easy to start noticing all of the parallels between Caitlyn and Vander, especially when it comes to their interactions with Vi.

Caitlyn's journey on the path to becoming Vi's protector started in Stillwater, when she first freed her, but this arc doesn't really kick off until after Vi gets stabbed while fighting Sevika at the end of Episode 5 and she's then forced to depend on Caitlyn for safety, on account of the whole being stabbed thing. And that's when the Protector Arc, and the Caitlyn/Vander parallels, begin in earnest.

~Both lecture Vi for her impulsiveness before/while tending to her wounds~

Even this early on Caitlyn already cares for Vi's safety (a trait we quickly learn applies to most people) and we get the very obvious, show makes sure we know it's a parallel to Vander, Caitlyn telling Vi that she has a good heart.

This is quickly followed by her leaving to find Vi some type of medicine which leads to the next big parallel between Vander and Caitlyn.

~Both sacrifice their weapons in a dangerous situation to keep Vi safe~

Vander drops his gauntlets on the bridge in the middle of the fighting (even if it was dying down), sacrificing them in order to pick Vi and Powder up and take her to safety. In the same vein, Caitlyn sells her only firearm in the middle of a dangerous environment while tracking down a terrorist with almost no bureaucratic support to get Vi a cure for being stabbed.

Shortly thereafter we get the whole escape from Silco/finding Jinx sequence which isn't relevant except for how it leads to the next parallel when Vi and Caitlyn get captured by the Firelights.

~Both attempt to sacrifice their freedom for Vi's~

Now, Caitlyn's already captured here but I think it counts. Before the reveal that Vi's on good terms with the Firelights, Caitlyn is seen fighting tooth and nail to get them to release Vi and keep her in Vi's stead. Vander on the other hand willingly turned himself over to the Enforcers in Vi's place to keep her from having to spend who knows how many years in Stillwater.

~Both went to bat for Vi against politically powerful opponents~

Caitlyn immediately goes toe-to-toe with Cassandra when she makes it back topside, demanding assistance and offering reproachful glares whenever someone says something remotely offensive about Vi (honestly everything with Ambessa also fits here but she's later). Vander on the other hand was trying to juggle Silco's schemes (that he didn't even know about), Marcus' impudence, and Sevika's betrayal while trying to keep Vi's life unaffected.

After this there's only one major parallel between Caitlyn and Vander until the end of S2A2, but there's some other fun Protector Things to talk about in S2A1. Specifically, how Caitlyn steps up and becomes Vi's protector in the wrong way during this act.

There's this specific old-timey usage of Protector that's popular in like... period romances(?) I was a lit major but I didn't specialize in period romances lol to refer to an influential individual (typically a man) who bestows financial and social protections on someone (typically a woman) without granting them the legal protections of marriage.

This is, essentially, what's happened with Vi and Caitlyn in the first act of the second season. We know that Vi's not living with Caitlyn but she also doesn't seem to be working, so the logical conclusion is that Caitlyn is handling her accommodations. In terms of social we know Caitlyn went so far as to threaten to pull her family's funds from the city if they didn't, basically, treat Vi as an equal citizen instead of the sister of a terrorist. But they aren't together romantically and they aren't living together with any of the implied legal protections one might have as an actual ward of Caitlyn's house.

Which leads up to the next one:

~Both lash out in their grief at the wrong people~

And more specifically, they lash out at the wrong person who was sort of a tangential cause in the death of a loved one. Vander attacks and blames Silco for Felicia's death and while she's primarily holding herself responsible, Caitlyn is also aware that she would have stopped Jinx without hesitation if she wasn't Vi's sister; if Vi hadn't made her second guess herself and show mercy... well Cassandra might be alive.

There's also a very specific parallel between S2A2 Caitlyn and Post-Bridge Vander. Both allow an outside force (the Enforcers/the Noxians) to have unfettered access to the Undercity in the hopes of preventing escalating violence, only for things to continue to get even worse.

~Vi is able to pull them from the dark/reestablish their humanity~

When Vi reunites with both Vanderwick and Caitlyn in S2 Act 2 they've both completely lost themselves down darker paths. Vander's mind is being destroyed by Shimmer and he barely remembers he's a person and is largely just Warwick at this point while Caitlyn is lost in a sea of guilt-driven revenge and is donning the title "Commander" like a cloak of self-flagellation. And Vi's able to cut through Warwick to Vander and The Commander to Caitlyn because of their deep rooted love and need to protect her.

Then we get Caitlyn betraying Ambessa and the fight at the commune and I'll come back to this with the last parallel but first I wanna talk about the decisive moment where Caitlyn became Vi's protector, for real this time.

~Both choose to sacrifice revenge in order to save Vi~

During the fight at the commune, Vi is horribly, life-threateningly injured. As folks have noted before, Jinx gives Caitlyn a clear shot at her back while she's distracted (while there's enough chaos for it to be realistic for her to get caught by a stray bullet) and Caitlyn completely ignores her in favor of rushing to Vi's side. Plus she continues to put aside her feelings about Jinx in order for them to get Vi topside safely, and eventually allows Vi to free her when she willingly surrenders. Meanwhile, Vander pulled the same sorta deal in Episode 3 when the factory was about the blow up. He had a moment he could have gone, was going to go after Silco but realized the building was collapsing and Vi was still trapped inside after having a beam dropped on her. Naturally Vander rushed to save Vi, which allowed Silco to escape.

For Caitlyn, however, this is the exact moment she basically takes Vi properly under her protection. In fact, going back to the "old-timey romance novel" version of Protector. The way in which Caitlyn allows Vi to free Jinx, in addition to the fact they are living together post-canon, show that Vi now has legal protections and those protections come from her implied position as a Kiramman.

More to the point, the way in which Vi frees Jinx is reminiscent of how Caitlyn herself freed Vi back in Episode 5. With Caitlyn manipulating the pieces behind the scenes since Vi wasn't really aware she'd been granted Kiramman privileges yet. But to summarize:

Both were somewhere they weren't really supposed to be, but there wasn't anyone who'd question them (Caitlyn because she's a Kiramman, Vi because Caitlyn removed all the guards)

Both freed a prisoner unauthorized knowing hoping that someone higher up would have their back (Caitlyn knowing Jayce would have her back and Vi hoping Caitlyn would be willing to let Jinx help)

Both did indeed have someone higher up the food chain keep them from getting in trouble (Jayce covering for Caitlyn to Marcus and Caitlyn coming down to the cells to make sure she found/freed Vi before anyone else)

Another point in the "this is where Caitlyn becomes Vi's protector" agenda, but ever since that very first scene of the series on the bridge, Vi's always worn some sort of wraps right up until she wakes up in S2A3 in Caitlyn's bed.

Aka: she can finally put her weapon's down, because she's found herself placed firmly under Caitlyn's protection, which means she's finally, fully safe.

And then for the final (and this parts' going to be a dozy so buckle in) we can hop back to the battle at the commune and Caitlyn turning on Ambessa. And what I really love here is that Caitlyn, who has spent the last several months being manipulated at literally every turn, finds one single earnest, honest person again and is like

~Both are willing to start a war in order to protect Vi~

This parallel actually goes a little nuts. Because not only are both of them willing to start a war to protect Vi and her family, with Vander refusing to give the kids up to the Enforcers and nearly starting the civil war almost a decade early versus Caitlyn who refuses to give up Vanderwick real full circle moment here to Ambessa and Singed and actually starts a war with Noxus over it. No, they are both nearly killed in the fallout while taking a knife to the gut from someone they used to trust (Silco/Ambessa) after getting betrayed by someone they thought they could (Sevika/Maddie).

And Caitlyn actually does have to start and finish said war in order to protect Vi. Which brings me to my final point, which is actually something I've seen several complaints about but was really important for Vi's character arc.

Caitlyn needed to fight in the war without Vi. With Vi at a considerably safer location, all things told. Because an important part of Vi's arc is that she's just a normal girl who keeps getting caught up in matters far larger than her when really all she wants is to keep her little family safe, only to have it tragically clawed apart again and again.

So there are two parts to this. Firstly, why it was important for Vi to not need to be there. Because time and again Vi's watched as she'd failed to save her loved ones. Been feet away from them as they were brutally killed in front of her. Her being there hasn't ever been enough to save anyone. But with Caitlyn? Who's protecting not just Vi's fragile mortal form, but her battered, bleeding heart? Caitlyn didn't even need Vi there to come back alive (hurt, but alive).

Building from that we then circle back to the fact that, again, Vi's just your average girl from down in the lanes. There's a reason she nearly has a panic attack when she's sitting in on the war council and realizes how bad the situation is. And it's okay. In the end, Caitlyn and her people (well, mostly Mel) are able to handle Ambessa while Vi's allowed to basically focus on a family matter putting Warwick to rest with Jinx. Aka: Vi isn't responsible for dealing with the big major catastrophe and doesn't have to make it her priority. She can trust that Caitlyn's taking care of it and focus on taking care of her family, the thing she's wanted to do the whole time regardless of how it might have turned out.

While they don't really have a ton of screen time once they get together, the two scenes we do get also showcase this change in dynamics. Especially since, given Vi's affinity for fighting, most of the protection Caitlyn is providing at that point is emotional.

I just mentioned how Vi nearly had a panic attack in the war council, but note how it was nearly because Caitlyn immediately picked up on it (like, it took less than five seconds) and reached out for her, in an official, public setting mind you, to hold her hand and reassure her.

The final scene lends even further to this. Caitlyn is clearly hard-tuned in to Vi's emotional state. She's smirking and running off to see her after hearing her hum like, one line, clearly excited to witness some sort of levity out of her. And after Vi explains though Caitlyn offers some fairly non-evasive comfort (resting her head against Vi's shoulder and gently encouraging her to open up if need be) which serves as an invitation for Vi to choose to take more of said comfort, which she does, physically at least.

And it's such a perfect culmination of their respective arcs. Vi's a Lover, who's been forced to don a Fighter's mantle for years until nothing of her was left. While Caitlyn is a Fighter Protector who spent her whole life locked up in a gilded cage, desperate for more but constantly told her only role was to dance and sing for her public.

In the end Vi's allowed to start piecing herself back together, figuring out who the hell Violet is, while Caitlyn finally has a partner she can trust and rely on who does the same for her in turn.

Someone who sees her as an equal and loves her for herself, someone she can safely hand her heart over to.

And that's for both of them.

[livesincerely]

They arrive on scene—a grassy, fenced-in playground teeming with children and families—and are immediately met by a frantic young woman.

“Oh, thank god,” she says, a huge diaper bag thrown over one shoulder and her arms filled with screaming toddler. “I swear, I looked away for, like, two seconds, Jaime was crying and I couldn’t figure out where their mom packed the juice boxes and when I looked back, she was halfway up—“

“What’s her name?” Bobby interrupts.

“Harper,” she says. “She’s right over here—“

And sure enough, there in the far corner of the playground is a tall oak tree, and about twenty feet up that tree is a little girl. She’s maybe seven or eight at the most and clinging tightly to a branch, her face streaked with tears.

“Hey, Harper,” Bobby calls, calm and steady. “What’re you doing up there?”

“I’m stuck!” she wails.

“I can see that,” Bobby says. “Are you hurt at all?”

“‘M okay,” she sniffles. “But it’s too far, I can’t get down!”

“Hey, that’s alright, we’re gonna send someone up to come get you. You just sit tight and keep holding on, okay?” Bobby tells her. “We’ll get you down from there in no time.”

“No way we get the ladder in here,” Chim observes, pulling off his sunglasses. “We’re fenced in on all sides and the trees are too close together to get a good angle from the curb.”

“How’d she even get up there?” Ravi wonders, squinting up at her. “No way she’s tall enough to make the jump up to that first branch. I’m not tall enough to make that jump.”

“Never underestimate the ingenuity of a determined elementary schooler,” Hen says wisely.

“I can climb up to her,” Eddie volunteers.

He moves closer to the trunk, knocking against the bark to check for soft spots, but it seems simple enough, as far as he can tell. It’s a healthy tree with lots of thick, sturdy branches—plenty big enough to hold steady beneath his weight

“You sure?” Bobby asks.

Eddie shrugs. “Yeah, I got it. I just need a— a boost or a chair or something to get started, but I’ll be fine after that. Then she can hold on to me while I climb back down.”

He glances around, searching.

“Maybe we can drag that picnic table over and—“

“Here,” Buck says, stepping up behind him.

He fits his hands around Eddie’s hips, a long line of heat against his back.

“What are you—?”

Eddie’s feet leave the ground and all thoughts leave his head.

Buck lifts him like it’s not even hard, like he could do this all day, not a hint of strain in those massive biceps. Eddie fumbles clumsily for the branch, all the blood in his body rushing south so quickly he almost goes dizzy with it.

“Eddie?” Buck prompts, lifting him just a little higher—like maybe the problem is that Eddie can’t quite reach. Jesus, he doesn’t even sound winded.

“Right,” Eddie mutters, pulling himself the rest of the way up. “Uh huh, yep.”

[sequinsmile-x]

One Last Souvenir From My Trip to Your Shores - Part 2

“Come on, Derek, it’s my job and Aaron knows that. And it’s not the first time I’ve had to flirt with an unsub. It’s not like I’m going to sleep with the guy.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, putting the coffee pot down with more force than necessary, “It wouldn’t be the first time you did that either.” 

A thoughtless and unkind comment from someone she's always considered a friend makes Emily feel like she's right back at the start.

-x-

Hi besties,

Thank you so SO much for the love for chapter 1, I'm genuinely a little blown away.

It almost makes me anxious to post chapter 2 haha, so I hope you enjoy this <3

I can't believe I ever thought this wouldn't be 11k words overall haha

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: None

Words: 5.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

She looks as tired as she feels. 

It’s the first thing she thinks when she looks in the mirror. Her makeup is smudged underneath her eyes, and she curses whoever marketed her mascara as waterproof. Her chin trembles when she sees the tracks of her tears on her cheeks and she shakes her head at herself, desperate to no longer be upset, but it’s futile and another tear slips down, following the trail left behind by the ones that had gone before it. 

“Damn it,” she says, blowing out a shaky breath, “Get it together, Emily.” 

She removes her makeup and then splashes water onto her face and pats it dry, blowing out a slow breath as she looks at herself in the mirror again, her red-rimmed eyes and slightly blotchy skin standing out in her bathroom's slightly too bright light. 

“That’s as good as it’s going to get,” she murmurs to herself as she drops the towel onto the countertop, and a smile spreads across her face when it lands next to some of Aaron’s things that lived there permanently. He had a razor here, a toothbrush and a bottle of his cologne. She’d never tell him that on the rare occasion when she slept separately from him she’d wear it. That she’d spray herself and her clothes and close her eyes and pretend he was right there with her. 

His bathroom looked similar, items she’d taken there and left in amongst his and spread across all the surfaces. The first night she stayed, Aaron presented her with a toothbrush to keep in his bathroom, and it now sat in the holder next to his and Jack’s.  It made her feel like part of a family for the first time in a long time, maybe for the first time ever, and it made her smile whenever she saw them all lined up, or when she accidentally picked up Jack’s watermelon flavoured toothpaste.  It was messier than her bathroom, a microcosm of Aaron and Jack’s life - items the little boy always left out that she or Aaron would put away - and it felt like a taster of a life that she was leading up to. Practice for something she so desperately wanted and knew she was on the cusp of having.

She sighs and steps out of the bathroom, but stops when she hears voices. For a split second, she thinks Aaron might actually be telling off the poor college kid who delivered the pizza, but then she realises she recognises the second voice. She feels anxiety pool in her gut again, any comfort Aaron had given her extinguished by Derek’s voice. 

“I just want to speak to her,” he says, more irritation in his tone than she thinks he deserves to feel. She steps into the hallway and sees Aaron blocking Derek’s view of the apartment, his skin paper white as it’s drawn over his knuckles as he holds the door tight. 

“I think you’ve said enough,” he says, his voice clipped, and she doesn’t have to look at his face to know Derek’s likely on the receiving end of a stern expression that had made hardened criminals crumble. 

She knows if she said that she wanted Derek to leave he’d close the door in his face without question, and he’d tell him to leave and that would be it. She’s tempted, unsure if she wants to talk to him before she’s had a chance to figure out what she wants to say, the wounds caused by his careless words still fresh and wide open. But she knows this conversation will be hard whenever she has it, and she wanted to get it over with, to try and move forward from whatever the last few days had been. To try and start chipping away at the heavy weight in the pit of her stomach that had been planted there by Derek just a few days ago. 

“Aaron,” she says before she can change her mind, her lips pressed together as he turns to look at her, “You can let him in.”

He stares at her, and they have a silent exchange, a conversation with no words because they’d never really needed them. He looks at her, seeking out any tiny semblance of doubt on her face and she nods at him, lets him know she’s sure and he nods back, a short, sharp thing that she knows means he’ll support her no matter what. He opens the door and lets Derek step past him, and he comes face to face with the pizza delivery guy who seems confused by the tension he’s walked into. Aaron passes him the money and takes the pizza without comment, closing the door behind him before anything can be said. He places their dinner, which he’s sure will go cold before they can eat it, on the closest surface he can find, and makes his way to Emily’s side. 

Some of the tension dissipates from her shoulders the moment he’s next to her, and she crosses her arms over her chest, clearing her throat as she waits for Derek to speak. He doesn’t, as if he hadn’t expected to get this far at all, and Aaron sighs, his hand on Emily’s back to get her attention. 

“Why don’t we all go sit down?” 

She nods and lets herself be led to the living room, warmth spreading through her from where Aaron’s hand is pressed against her back. He taps her spine three times with his thumb, and she steps away so she can hold his hand, the press of her palm against his her way of returning the sentiment she doesn’t want to share in front of Derek. It’s only when they are all sitting down, when Aaron takes his place by her side, sitting close enough that their thighs press together, and Derek sits on the couch opposite them that she realises this is the first time Derek had ever been to this place. 

He’d never visited, and had never asked to either, and it makes sadness swell in her gut, a feeling that’s extinguished as she remembers what Aaron had told her about what he’d said in her old apartment. How he stood in her home, the place she’d cooked for him and where he’d drunk her expensive liquor, and he’d torn her character apart. He sits opposite them and just stares, and she’s suddenly very aware of the fact she and Aaron are dressed so casually, one of his t-shirts loose on her frame. It’s a version of them that was usually only for them and Jack and she hates that Derek is seeing it. It makes her feel exposed, like she’s on display for him to see, and she tightens her grip on Aaron’s hand. 

“I thought you wanted to speak to me,” Emily eventually says, her voice more steady than she feels and she thanks a god she isn’t sure she believes in anymore for the way she’d been brought up, for the fact she could hold herself together even when it felt like she was slowly ripping apart at the seams.

Derek sighs, his arms across his chest as he looks back and forth between the two of them, “Can we talk alone?” 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Aaron says without thinking, an automatic response he can’t hold back as the desire to protect her almost burns him from the inside out. He looks at her so he can gauge what she wants, because they both know he’d leave if she asked him to, but she nods ever so slightly and keeps her grip tight on his hand, her blunt nails digging into his skin. 

“Anything you want to say to me you can say in front of him.”

Derek laughs, it’s nervous and unlike him, and he looks between the two of them again, “What, you can’t speak to me without your guard dog?”

She knows it’s an attempt at a joke, that he’s trying to lighten the mood he’d created in the first place, and it just makes her angrier. She knows it does the same for Aaron because she can feel how his shoulders get tenser, his body almost wider with it as he prepares to be exactly what Derek is comparing him to. 

“Derek,” she says warningly, “He’s staying. What did you want to say?”

He leans forward, his elbows on his knees as he clasps his hands in front of him, and he blows out a breath, “I’m sorry.” 

She chuckles humourlessly, “Is that it? Because we have pizza to eat and it’s been a long day-”

“Emily, come on-”

“No,” she says sharply, “You can’t come here and say you’re sorry and think that’s it. You can’t call me a whore and expect to-”

“Whoa,” he says, cutting her off and shaking his head, “I never said that.” 

She clenches her teeth, fed up with being told by people, men, that she’d misinterpreted things, that she’s overreacting to something she hasn’t even begun to react to yet. 

“Then what did you mean by it?” She asks, staring at him, finding no joy in how he shrinks in front of her, how he becomes visibly smaller as he grapples for an explanation they all know he doesn’t have, “That’s what I thought. You should go, this was pointless-”

“I didn’t mean to say it.”

She scoffs and shakes her head, “Then what did you mean to say? Or did you just mean to think it?” She asks, her sadness once again overtaking her anger, the two emotions racing each other around her bloodstream in a way that makes her fidget. Aaron places his hand on her knee and it grounds her, reminds her she’s not facing this or anything else alone anymore. 

“When you were arrested for murder, I barely knew you and I believed you were innocent without question and I did not judge you or your actions. Why couldn’t you do the same for me when you stood in my home and talked about things you do not understand that happened before I knew you?” 

Derek connects the dots quickly, figures out the chain of command of how everything he’d said in anger to Dave had made its way back to Emily, and looks sharply at Aaron, “You told her.”

“She deserved to know,” Aaron says firmly, all of his focus on keeping his cool. Emily could hold her own, he knew that, but his desire to protect her was thrumming under his skin, making him all but vibrate on the couch. 

“What gives you the right-”

“I asked him,” she says, cutting over Derek again, barely able to bring herself to let him finish a sentence, “I asked him and he told me.” She sighs sadly, the one thing she’d been thinking on repeat since he’d broken her heart finally slipping free, “I thought you were my friend.” 

Aaron tightens his hold on her hand, unable to stop himself because the crack in her voice reverberates through his heart, and he’s worried if he didn’t do something he’d tell Derek to leave. He runs his thumb back and forth over the pulse in her wrist, tracing the evidence that she’d survived the very worst things that had happened to her. 

Derek’s face falls, the first crack in his facade, and he sinks back against the couch, “I am your friend, Em.” 

“I think we have very different ideas about how we should treat our friends, Derek. I have spent months…” she trails off and swallows thickly as her voice starts to shake. She turns her head to face Aaron, her eyes shining as he looks at her and her jaw tight as she tries to keep herself together. It’s another silent conversation, a squeeze of her hand and a look in his eyes that she knows means are you okay, and she smiles, something that’s lost in the tight way her lips are pressed together and she nods, her expression firm again when she turns back to look at Derek, her voice more steady this time, “I have spent months trying to earn back your trust, trying to prove myself to you again and all this time you’ve been…what? Judging me for things you’ll never have to understand,” she licks her lower lip and takes a deep breath, “I had a relationship with Ian. I had sex with him,” she shrugs when he closes his eyes, his jaw tight with anger, “Why does that have anything to do with you?” 

He sighs, “It doesn’t, not really, but-” 

“There is no but Derek. It has nothing to do with you, and neither does my relationship with Aaron, which is something else you seem to have an opinion on.” 

Derek’s jaw tightens again, his eyes flicking to Aaron, staring him down as he spits out his response, “He faked your death.” 

His attitude towards Aaron makes her angrier, something she wouldn’t have thought was possible as it briefly stamps out any sadness that was lingering in her throat. Aaron stiffens next to her, his shoulders so tight she’s surprised his t-shirt doesn’t rip, that he doesn’t turn into the superhero Jack always compared him to right in front of her and defend her honour. She knows he wants to. If she hinted even for a second that she wanted his help he’d jump in and protect her, but he doesn’t, because she didn’t want or need him to fight her battles. She needed him to help pick up the pieces after. To remind her where all of them went and help her move forward. It was the part of all of this that she’d been missing before him. The support behind the scenes that she’d always told herself she didn’t need because she didn’t know what it felt like to have. 

“And you faked your cousin’s,” she says cooly, unaware until she’s said it that his hypocrisy over Aaron and JJ’s actions to protect her had upset her, the response out and in the air around them before she’d realised it had escaped the place she’d buried it. A flash of guilt licks through her chest, burning her from the inside out as his face falls. She shakes it off, remembering that no matter what she’d made him feel, it was not even a degree of how he’d made her feel.  

“I did that to protect my family.” 

Aaron chuckles humourlessly, his self-control slipping for a moment as everything he’d turned inwards for months breaks free, “And why do you think I did what I did? For fun? Because I wanted to bury another woman I…”

He drifts off, his jaw tight as he holds back everything that feels too personal to share with anyone other than Emily.  He’d known he’d loved her for a lot longer than they’d been together, but he’d only found the name for it when he was faced with losing her, when he was carrying a coffin he knew she wasn’t in. It was a moment of awful clarity, every moment he’d ever had with her on a grim showreel in his head that he couldn’t stop seeing. He told himself that when he got her back, the idea of if too painful to accept, he’d do something about it. 

In the end, he hadn’t been able to, frozen in fear that she would never feel the same way for him. She’d taken the leap, like she so often did, and he’d held her hand and jumped with her. 

She’d always been the bravest person he knew. 

“He was protecting me too,” she says, her hold on Aaron’s hand now so tight her skin is bone white where it’s stretched over her knuckles, “As our friend you should be happy for us,” she says, and Derek shakes his head, dropping his gaze to the floor, “I mean it, Derek. I won’t accept you talking crap about the man I love or our relationship.” 

He looks up, his brows furrowed, “You love him?” 

She scoffs, “Yes,” she says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world because it feels like the most obvious thing in the world.

“And I love her too,” Aaron adds, the gentle words at odds with the stern expression on his face. He usually smiled when he said it, his expression soft and his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks. She turns to look at him and smiles at him, something in her chest easing when he smiles back. 

“Did you love him?” 

She presses her lips together at Derek’s question and watches as Aaron’s face falls too, the brief flash of him, of her Aaron replaced by Hotch as they both turn to look at him. She clears her throat. 

“Ian?” She asks, and Derek nods. She smiles wryly, “Please don't tell me you're equating love to sex, I've seen you go home with enough one-night stands to know you don't believe they are the same thing.” 

He chuckles humourlessly, “That isn’t an answer.” 

She has to wrap her other hand around Aaron’s, sandwiching it between the two of hers to remind him to stay quiet, his anger thick and palpable in the air like a cheap cologne. She’s angry herself because Derek thinks he’s won, that he’s tripped her up with his frustratingly black-and-white thinking. He was still so sure after all these years, after all they’d seen and done, that there were clear answers to everything. She’d lived in the grey area for years. Had existed on the edges of what was right and wrong, and she wonders if that’s part of her that Derek would simply just never understand. 

“And I don't have one that's simple,” she says, “Or one that I think you'll find satisfactory.”

The room falls into silence and Derek leans forward, his fingers pressed against his temples as he tries to gather himself, “I am sorry that I upset you. No matter what…no matter what I may think or have said, I never wanted to upset you.” 

She presses her lips together, “Okay.” 

He frowns, “Okay? Is that it?” 

She nods, “You apologised, I’m not ready to forgive you.” 

He chokes on a humourless laugh, “Em-”

“No,” she says, cutting over him, “You didn’t just upset me, Derek. You…you’ve changed the way I think about our friendship. And that’s going to take a long time for me to come to terms with,” she swallows thickly, pushing down emotions she won’t let herself feel until he’s gone, her eyes burning with tears, “It’s going to be a long time before I trust you again.” 

He sighs and shrugs in defeat, “Then where does this leave us?” 

“Where we are right now I guess,” she replies, “I didn’t bring us to this point. You did. And it isn’t my responsibility to try and make you feel better about it.” 

They fall into silence again, and Emily realises she has nothing left to say, that she’s done trying to defend herself when she’s done nothing wrong. The ball was in Derek’s court now, and she hoped he’d eventually see her side of it all. He nods, his shoulders slumping a little, as he stands. 

“I should go.” He says, his smile tight. Emily stands too, and so does Aaron, his hand on her lower back as they move as one to show him out. He hesitates at the door and turns to look at her, his gaze drifting over both of them, over how close they are. As if he’s seeing them and their relationship as it is for the first time and not the way he’d assumed it to be, “Will we ever get back to where we were?” 

She shrugs, “I doubt we’ll sit in one of the SUVs on a stake out and make fun of Aaron for being a hardass ever again,” she scrunches her nose up and looks over her shoulder at Aaron, “No offence, honey.” 

He squeezes her hip, a smile Emily knows Derek has likely never seen before flashes across his face, “None taken. I am a hardass.” 

She presses her lips together and turns back to Derek, “We’ll get…somewhere. I’m sure.” 

It’s all she can offer him. It’s all she wants to offer him because she doesn’t know how she’ll feel tomorrow or in a week. She doubted the heartache would go away any time soon, and she didn’t know when she’d be able to look at him again and not think of the hurtful thing he’d said. Of the way he’d looked at her when he said it. Of the way he’d made her feel like she was worth nothing. 

It had been a long time since someone she loved looked at her like that and she cared that they had. 

Derek nods, and he forces a tight smile as he leaves, the apartment falling into silence after the door closes behind him. Aaron moves his hands to her shoulders, his thumbs pressed into her back as he tries to ease some of the tension there.

“Sweetheart-” He’s cut off when she turns in his arms, her face buried in his neck and her hands grasping at his back, his t-shirt tight in her fists. He feels the burn of her tears against his skin and he kisses the top of her head, “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you,” he kisses her hairline and pulls back just enough to see her face, “Let’s go sit down, okay?” 

She nods but doesn’t pull away from him. She lets him lead her towards the couch, her sniffles and the occasional sharp intake of breath the only sounds in the apartment. As soon as she’s sitting down he moves to pull away but she stops him, her blunt nails digging into his arm as she furrows her brow. 

“I’ll be less than a minute, okay,” he says, squeezing her forearm before she nods and he tilts his head towards the bathroom, “I’ll barely leave your sight.” 

She watches as he goes, her vision blurred by the tears she’d held back throughout the painful back and forth with Derek. She hears the faucet in the bathroom briefly go on and off, and then Aaron walks back towards her, a damp washcloth in his hand. He sits next to her and turns towards her, his knee knocking against her thigh, and he gently wipes her cheeks with the washcloth. He touches her as if she’s made of something precious, his love and care for her soft as he dabs away the tears someone else had caused, each one immediately replaced. It doesn’t phase him and he carries on, diligent in the task he had set himself as they sit in silence, his knee pressed against her thigh as he gives her the silence she needs to figure out what she wants to do next.

“I’m sorry.” She eventually chokes out, her voice ragged and throat tight. 

“What for?” He asks, his smile reassuring and entirely hers when she finally looks at him. She tries to smile too and it shakes, the laugh that escapes her close to hysterical.

“I feel like all I’ve done this evening is cry.” 

“You never have to apologise for that. I love you, and part of that is looking after you when you’re sad or hurt.” He leans forward and kisses her cheek, tasting the salt of her skin as she leans into him, curling against his side as if she’d been waiting for him to initiate contact. He drops the washcloth onto the side table for now and wraps his arms around her, never wanting her to doubt that he’d always be there ready and waiting for her when she needed him. 

“It’s been a long time since someone I care about has been able to hurt me like that,” she says, her voice shaking, “He should call and give my mother some tips, she’s lost her edge in recent years.” 

He knows what she’s doing, knows that humour is a shield she’d used her whole life, and he squeezes her thigh, “Sweetheart.” 

She heaves in a breath, the press of it sticking to each of her ribs as it shudders in her lungs, and she nods as she blows it back out. 

“Sorry,” she says, smiling sadly when he raises an eyebrow at her again, “It’s just..having to think about Ian this much…” she blows out another shaky breath and her chin trembles, “It’s never easy.” 

He hears what she hasn’t said, what she doesn’t need to say, and he tucks some of her hair behind her ear, his knuckles soft against her cheek afterwards as he wipes away her tears, “Like I said you earlier, none of that matters to me. None of it. The only thing that matters to me is you.” 

“I know,” she says, cupping his cheek, running her thumb back and forth over his jaw, “Thank you,” she smiles sadly and he almost tells her she doesn’t have to thank him, but she carries on, speaking as if she wasn’t aware she was talking outloud. “Sometimes it feels like I haven’t moved forward at all since I came back.” 

For a moment he wishes he had shouted at Derek, that he’d let him know exactly what he thought of him and all the things he’d said about Emily, but he knows it wouldn’t have helped. The last thing Emily needed, or wanted, was two men fighting over her honour like she was a prize to be won.

“Recovery isn’t linear, Em. And you have moved forward. And I won’t let Derek, or anyone, take that from you.” 

She smiles despite the vice around her heart, “Even me?” 

He leans in to kiss her lower lip, “Especially you.” 

She rests her forehead against his and cups the back of his head to hold him in place, “You’re a good man, Aaron Hotchner. The best. And I won’t let anyone, including you, take that from you.” She swallows thickly and blows out a breath, and it makes her sadness skip across his face, the melancholy in it enough to break his heart, “Where do I go from here, Aaron? How do I go to work on Monday knowing my partner, my friend, thinks those things about me?” 

“Well, I’ve got it on good authority that your boss has a soft spot for you,” he says, running his fingers through her hair, “So he can make sure you don’t get partnered with him for a while.” 

She pulls back to look at him, “I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You aren’t asking me I’m happy to do it for you if it makes your life even a little bit easier,” he rubs a soothing circle on her back, “And I have a feeling Derek won’t try and argue it either.” He says, and she bites the inside of her cheek, sure that she should just put up with it, but Aaron carries on, “There are some benefits to being the boss, sweetheart. And it’s not just the office with a front row view of your desk,” he pauses as she laughs, the sound easing something in his chest, the melody of it filling the space around his heart, “I can do this for you.” 

She’s nodding before she even knows she’s going to agree, and she leans in to stamp her lips against his, “Okay. Thank you.” 

“You have got to stop thanking me for looking after you,” he says softly, winking at her when she fails to hide a smile, “I like doing it.” 

She settles against him, drawing warmth and comfort from the safety of his arms. She’s not sure how long they sit there in silence. How long he trails his fingers up and down her arm, the calluses on his thumb catching on an old scar he’d heard her get years ago when she was thrown against a mirror by a long-dead monster. It feels like he’s trying to heal her bit by bit, that the soft press of his rough skin against hers is undoing everything that ever came before him, and on some level, she thinks he is. He’s providing everything she never knew how to ask for, everything she still didn’t know how to ask for, and she never wanted him to stop. 

 “We never ate the pizza,” she says eventually, the sound of his belly rumbling breaking through the silence they had fallen into. She scrunches her nose up, “It’s probably stone cold by now.” 

“You’re not a fan of cold pizza?” He asks, and she grimaces and shakes her head. 

“It reminds me too much of college and bad decisions.” 

He chuckles, “We can order another one.” 

“I need to find my phone,” she says, making no attempt to move, far too comfortable pressed against him, and he smiles as he pulls his phone from his sweatpants.

“Here,” he says as he hands it to her, “Order what you want. You can even get one of those disgusting dessert pizzas you like.” 

She rolls her eyes at him, “They aren’t disgusting. They are just glorified cookies.” 

“Then they shouldn’t call them pizzas.”

She presses her lips together to try and contain a smile, the beautiful and simple domesticity of it all almost misplaced after the day she’d had. But she thinks maybe that’s the point - that she could have a terrible awful day and still have this to come to, that she no longer had to sit in the darkness by herself. 

She smiles as she unlocks his phone and is met by his wallpaper. It’s a picture of the two of them and Jack, the little boy in her arms and both of them in Aaron’s, all standing together in the park with wide smiles on their faces. Aaron had been taking photos of her and Jack, and a stranger offered to take one of all three of them, her smile kind as she told them they were a beautiful family. None of them had corrected her, because thats what they were. A family. Or at least the building blocks of one. She’d make fun of him for it, gently tease him and call him sentimental, if she didn’t have the same picture set as her wallpaper too. 

She frowns curiously at an email she can see on his screen, a dispatch notification from a homeware store she knows isn’t cheap, and she turns her head to look at him, tilting the phone so he can see it too. 

“What did you order?” 

“Oh,” he says, clearing his throat, his dimples standing out as his cheeks flush with embarrassment, “I bought new pillows. You said mine hurt your neck, so I ordered new ones.” 

She stares at him for a moment, her mouth hanging open as she huffs out a laugh, “When? We only got back from the case this afternoon and you haven’t been home yet?” 

He tugs her closer, his lips against her temple as he hides a smirk against her skin, “There’s this amazing thing called the internet, I don’t know if you’ve heard of it. They should arrive tomorrow - I bought the same ones you have.” 

She pulls back to look at him, his phone in a loose grip in her hand, and she presses her lips together, entirely unsure what to say in response. “Those are expensive, Aaron.”

He shrugs like the price of them hadn’t occurred to him, “You and your comfort when you’re at my place are worth it.” 

She kisses him because it’s the only thing she can think of doing, and she rests her forehead against him, her nose knocking against his, “I love you.” 

He furrows his brow, “Because of the pillows?”

“No,” she replies, rolling her eyes at him, “Well, yes. But not just because of the pillows,” she says, “Because of everything,” she runs her fingers through his hair, “I love you because you’re you.” 

He smiles and kisses her, his lips catching the corner of hers, “I love you because you’re you too,” he looks at her, his eyes searching hers and finding the lingering sadness left behind by the last few days and the lack of a resolution that she so desperately wanted, “Everything will be okay, sweetheart. It might take some time. But it will be okay.” 

She nods and rests her head against his chest, her forehead pressed against his neck as she tries to get as close to him as she can, his warmth and the safety that always came with it giving her all the things she’d never had before. 

A home. Reassurance. And the love she’d spent a lifetime chasing, 

“I know,” she says, turning her head to kiss him, her lips catching his jaw, “How could it not be? I have you.” 

-x-

NB: I know some of you were hoping for an Aaron/Derek altercation, but it didn't feel right for Aaron's character and also it's absolutely not what Emily needs. She needs her man to be a supportive king!!

As always, let me know what you think <3

Until next time,

SequinSmile x

[mattsfavouritewhore]

Just Go part 4... The End - Chris Sturniolo

a/n: welcome to the end pookies!! enjoy

just go part 2 part 3

you felt like a stranger in your own skin as you pushed through the crowded party. The thumping bass of the music vibrated through your bones, but it couldn’t drown out the thudding of your heart. you had come here to escape, to forget, but now the weight of what happened earlier felt suffocating. Chris likes Harper. Not you.

Why did you even come? pushing past a couple of people laughing by the kitchen. But as you walked deeper into the house, your eyes naturally found Chris. He was standing in a small circle with some friends, but Harper—of course—was right there, leaning into him as if they were already in their own world.

The sight twisted something in your chest. It wasn’t just jealousy anymore—it was something sharper, like betrayal. seeing it now, in person, felt like salt in an open wound.

Before you could look away, Chris caught their eye. The flicker of recognition passed between you guys, and in that instant, everything seemed to stop. He excused himself from Harper and started making his way toward you. your pulse quickened, a mixture of fury and something else—something that felt uncomfortably like longing.

No. you couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not after everything.

When Chris reached them, he was breathing a little heavier than usual, clearly flustered. “Hey,” he said, running a hand through his hair, his voice hesitant. “You made it.”

You crossed their arms tightly, feeling a rush of emotions you couldn’t process all at once. you forced a tight smile. “Yeah, I thought I’d come for the free drinks and the real entertainment.”

Chris winced at the sarcasm. “I know things have been weird... but I didn’t think it was this bad.” His gaze flickered toward Harper, who was watching them from across the room.

Chris’s expression faltered, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything from you, Y/N. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?” you asked, unable to keep the edge from your voice. “You think you can just sweep everything under the rug, pretend like I don’t have feelings? Because here’s the truth, Chris: I’m not the one who needs to be protected here.”

Chris stepped forward, his voice dropping. “Y/N, I never meant to hurt you. You have to believe me. You’ve always been...” He stopped, looking lost for words.

“Always been what?” you challenged, your voice growing colder. “Your second choice? Your fall-back plan? Is that it?”

Chris’s face softened with regret, his eyes desperate. “No, you’re not that to me. I care about you. But...”

“But?” you repeated, cutting him off. “But what? You care about me, but you’ve been chasing Harper this entire time, Chris. How long were you planning on stringing me along? Because, news flash, I’m not waiting for you to figure it out anymore.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Harper suddenly appeared at his side, her voice dripping with sweetness, but with a dangerous edge. “What’s going on here, you two? Did you need a little private chat?”

you turned to face her, your pulse quickening. Harper’s eyes gleamed with a strange satisfaction as she looked between you and Chris. She wasn’t even pretending to hide the power she had over him. “I think Chris has been very clear about his feelings, haven’t you, babe?”

Chris’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes flickered briefly to you, almost like he was looking for approval, but he said nothing.

your heart felt like it was breaking, but you refused to let it show. Instead, you looked right at Harper, cutting through the tension. “You two are really something, aren’t you?” you said, your voice like ice. “You’ve been playing this game for months, pretending you care about me when all along you were just setting me up as some... rebound.”

Harper shrugged, unfazed. “Rebound? Maybe. But if the shoe fits…” She tossed her hair back with a smug smirk. “To be fair, I didn’t think he was going to fall for you. But he did. I guess it was fun while it lasted.”

you stared at Harper, anger and hurt crashing through you, but something deep inside clicked. you were done being the victim of this twisted little game. you turned to Chris, your eyes narrowing. “I’m done with both of you,” you said flatly.

But just as you turned to leave, something unexpected happened. Chris grabbed your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. “Wait,” he said urgently. “Y/N, please listen.”

you spun around, eyes blazing. “No. I’m done listening. I’m done with the lies, done with being a fucking second choice.” you yanked their wrist out of his grasp.

But Chris didn’t let go. He pulled you in, his hands on your shoulders, his eyes locking with yours in a way you'd never seen before. “Y/N, don’t walk away. I fucked up,” he said, his voice low but earnest. “I’ve been a coward, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you in the dark. But it was never about Harper. It was always you. You just... you have to trust me on this.”

you felt a mix of disbelief and something else—a rush of longing you had tried to suppress for so long. The anger was still there, but it was tangled up with something raw. Something real.

“Prove it,” you whispered, barely able to hear their own voice over the pounding music. “Prove that you want me. Because right now, I’m not sure you even know who the hell I am.”

Chris took a step back, eyes wide, then nodded. “I can prove it. I will. Just give me a chance.”

you stared at him for a long moment, your breath catching in your throat. you could feel Harper’s eyes burning into them from across the room, but for the first time that night, you didn’t care.

“Fine,” you said finally, their voice low. “You’ve got one chance to make this right, Chris. Don’t screw it up.”

Chris’s face broke into a genuine, relieved smile. And for the first time, it wasn’t forced. “I won’t,” he promised, his voice filled with determination.

He drags you to the yard, away from all the people, away from the music and the alcohol..

it was just the two of you.

“I was a mess, Y/N. I was so scared to face the truth that I just let things happen. I didn’t know how to break things off with Harper, and I thought… I thought I could handle everything, but I can’t. I didn’t want to lose you, but I knew I was losing myself by trying to keep you around while still being hung up on her. I messed up, and I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I’m willing to prove to you that I can be the person you deserve.”

You listened as he explained himself, still not understanding why he chose harper over you, why he did what he did if this is how he truly felt.

“I don’t expect you to trust me right away, but I need you to know that I’m here for the long haul. I don’t want to play games anymore. No more secrets. I’m not perfect, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make this right. But I need you to tell me what you need. I can’t fix things unless you let me know what you need from me.”

He tucks a strand of her hair, kissing her cheek before getting up and walking away. you watch him leave, being left alone with your thoughts.. would he ever tell you why he did what he did? should you forgive him? it all came crashing into your thoughts.

A few days go past, you hadnt heard from chris until one night he messages you..

Chris:

“I know you’ve been dying to see that documentary about that photographer you love. I got us tickets for tomorrow night. no pressure. But I want to spend some time with you, the right way. If you’re up for it, I’m here.”

You smile at your phone, quickly responding "sure"

Chris continued to spoil you, not really going into detail abt harper and why he randomly switched up from you to harper back to you but he made it clear that harper was no longer an issue.

you decided to give Chris another chance, but on your terms. you're not rushing into anything—you've learnt to trust yourself first, and now, you need to trust Chris with a more open heart. Chris’s consistent actions, honesty, and vulnerability make all the difference. Slowly, you lets down your guard. you find yourself laughing again in each other’s company, planning things together, and feeling like you can be your true selves with him—no games, no secrets.

you guys take your time. There’s no immediate rush to label things, but trust and communication gradually grow back, until one day, Chris holds your hand and says, “I’m not going anywhere. I want this with you, for real. You’re it.”

you, with a soft smile, reply, “I believe you.”

a/n: this is pretty rushed bc i geniunely had zero of an idea on how to finish the series.

tags: @riggysworld @watercolorskyy @courta13

[youngsadlesbian]

REFLECTION OF ANOTHER STAGE

pairing: taylor swift x daughter!reader

summary: while taylor swift is dominating the stage and winning over crowds, you’re discovering your own talent—but not in the music spotlight. theater and acting have caught your eye, and every school play or amateur short film is a chance to shine. the problem? taylor is so immersed in her tour and career that she never realized how much you’ve fallen in love with another art form.

a/n: i'm completely obsessed with taylor swift x daughter!reader stories and i decided to bring this one (and others) here. hope you like it!

word count: 1k

warnings: pure fluff

Taylor Swift’s return home was quiet—at least, as quiet as it could be when you’re Taylor Swift. The house felt untouched, save for the subtle changes that only a mother would notice. A new plant by the window. A different candle burning on the kitchen counter. And a script, thick and dog-eared, sitting on the couch as if someone had just been rehearsing.

Taylor paused mid-step, brow furrowing as she picked it up. Scribbles in the margins, highlighted lines, and character notes sprawled across the pages.

“What in the…” she mumbled, flipping to the cover.

“The Phantom of Middlebury – A Theatrical Experience by the Senior Drama Club” And there it was. Your name, bold and unmistakable, under the cast list.

Taylor’s eyes darted to the kitchen, where a colorful flyer was pinned to the fridge with a magnet shaped like a cat.

“OPENING NIGHT: FRIDAY! COME WATCH THE MAGIC UNFOLD!”

Taylor squinted at the words as if they might rearrange themselves into something less surprising.

How did she miss this?

\*/

That night, as you sat at the dinner table scrolling on your phone, Taylor casually brought it up.

“So… this play on Friday?” she asked, ladling pasta onto your plate. “I saw the flyer.”

Your fork hovered mid-air, and your eyes flickered to hers in alarm. “Oh. Yeah. It’s just a small thing. School play.”

Taylor’s head tilted, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Small thing? There’s glitter on the flyer, and it’s literally the only thing on the fridge. It’s practically screaming for attention.”

You laughed nervously. “I didn’t think you’d be that interested. It’s not like… y’know, music or anything.”

Taylor leaned forward on her elbows. “Let me get this straight. I can write ten-minute ballads about the most niche feelings, and you think I wouldn’t want to watch my own daughter perform on stage?”

You shrugged. “It’s not the same. Acting is just something I do for fun.”

“Fun is where it starts.” Taylor pointed at you with her fork. “Don’t underestimate fun.”

\*/

Taylor was not subtle.

She arrived at the school auditorium a full thirty minutes early, armed with oversized sunglasses, a hoodie, and, to your horror, a giant sign that read: “YOU’RE MY ARTIST OF THE YEAR!”

The auditorium was dimly lit, and she sat front row, smack in the middle, like a VIP section had been reserved just for her.

As you peeked from backstage, dread filled your stomach.

“Oh my God,” you whispered to your friend, “she brought a sign.”

Your friend stifled a laugh. “Is that Taylor Swift? With a handmade poster?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

And there she was—Taylor Swift, internationally recognized superstar—grinning ear to ear with glitter penmanship like it was her first concert ever.

The play began.

Each time you stepped on stage, Taylor leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands, fully absorbed.

When you delivered your monologue, she whispered (loudly): “She’s so talented… I mean, look at her.”

A couple of parents chuckled nearby, and your teacher threw a glance in Taylor’s direction.

At the dramatic climax, Taylor let out a very audible, “YES! THAT’S MY DAUGHTER!” accompanied by a clap that echoed across the auditorium.

By curtain call, your cheeks burned. As you bowed, you could practically hear Taylor snapping photos with the enthusiasm of a proud soccer mom.

When you finally escaped backstage to peel off your costume, Taylor was waiting in the hall, holding a bouquet of roses and… cupcakes?

“Cupcakes, Mom? Really?” you teased, plucking one from the box.

Taylor grinned, shrugging. “I was going for a whole ‘proud mom but also dessert enthusiast’ vibe. Nailed it, right?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but warmth filled your chest.

\*/

A few days later, Taylor knocked on your bedroom door with an excited glimmer in her eye.

“I’ve been thinking,” she began, sitting cross-legged on your bed, “I’m filming the video for ‘right where you left me’ next week. The director’s been looking for someone to play the lead actress in it.”

You nodded slowly, not sure where this was going.

“And… I thought maybe you could do it.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what? You want me to be in the music video?”

Taylor nodded earnestly. “You’re already in acting mode, and it’s not a flashy video. It’s… very folk, you know? Moody, emotional. I think you’d be perfect.”

You hesitated. “Isn’t that… nepotism or something?”

Taylor laughed. “Nepotism is hiring you because you exist. I’m hiring you because you’re good.”

You stared at her, unsure. But the excitement in her voice, the softness in her gaze—it was real.

“Alright,” you said finally. “I’ll do it.”

\*/

The set was a rustic café, straight out of the evermore universe. Dusty light streamed through the windows, illuminating vintage furniture and chipped cups.

You sat at the table, dressed in a muted vintage gown, the air heavy with silence. The director adjusted the camera as Taylor hovered nearby, watching intently.

“Okay,” the director called. “Action.”

You stared off into the distance, eyes glassy, hands trembling slightly. The scene demanded heartbreak—the weight of being left behind.

Taylor’s gaze never left you.

During a break, she leaned over. “You’re incredible. Seriously. I almost cried.”

You smirked. “Almost?”

“Fine. I cried a little. Whatever.”

She pulled out her phone, snapping more behind-the-scenes photos. “Hold the cup like that—yes! You’re the actress of the year.”

When the video finally premiered, social media lit up.

“WHO IS THIS GIRL IN TAYLOR’S VIDEO??” “Wait… is that her daughter? She’s SO good!”

Taylor wasted no time.

“Yup. That’s my girl. ❤️” she posted, sending fans into a frenzy.

The hashtag #TalentSwift trended for days.

You watched the flood of comments, half embarrassed, half exhilarated. For once, it wasn’t just about being Taylor Swift’s daughter. It was about you.

“You know,” Taylor said one night as you scrolled through your phone, “I always thought the stage was mine. But I think it might be yours too.”

And sitting there beside her, you realized she was right.

[weewookinard]

Mariee darling are you still taking make me write requests?

Can I ask 👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻👶🏻, please? ❤️

Hi Gabby!! Kinda late but I finally wrote some lines, for you and for @kyellin who asked too on my comments 🥰 Here are some lines for my fic where Abby and Tommy have a kid together! I wrote next part just here if you want!

This part will be very emotional 🥹

Tamara has never been keen on napping as a child, but she falls asleep from exhaustion as soon as her father's car door closes. From time to time, Tommy looks at her in the rear-view mirror, laying eyes on that little body exhausted from running around the huge museum, demanding to discover more and more, her stuffed toy under her arm. The mammoth is still clutched to her chest, and a light snore emerges from her half-open mouth. She looks so peaceful, so happy. Tommy wipes a tear from his cheek. Why can't he enjoy the day the three of them have just had? Why does an awful feeling twist his stomach? He should be relieved. His daughter hadn't rejected his boyfriend, and his boyfriend hadn't pushed his daughter away. On the contrary, Evan was loving, bonding with the child at breakneck speed. Perhaps a little too hastily, in fact. The picture of Tammy throwing herself into his arms to say goodbye, cheek pressed against his, making him promise to take her back to the museum, is heavy on the father's shoulders. It's overwhelming in the worst way. Isn't this all he's ever wanted? A strong family, at the side of his true love, his daughter in his arms. Their daughter. He feels stupid for having dreamed for so long of the day when he'd find someone capable of loving Tammy as if she were his own, and then getting scared the day it finally happens. It's all moving too fast. Evan and Tammy should have needed time to discover each other, to learn about each other. He should have been able to witness the changes, to guide them gently along the right path, step by step. He should have been able to act as a barrier in case things got out of hand, in the right stance to protect them both. Instead, he watched helplessly as the accident unfolded, unable to prevent the disaster. Evan and Tammy had collided, and to pull them apart might well destroy them, leaving only debris. Another tear, another snoring exhale from his daughter in the back.

thank you both 🥹🥹

Make me write more here ✍️

Or

Start this story from chapter one 👶

[slushie5544]

(1/2) A New Year, Same Old Love

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62014474/chapters/158590699

Yes this is based off @msmimundo ‘s new years comic! It started as a one-shot but then this happened so enjoy the first part of this Perryshmirtz New Years two-shot (If you squint enough this could be a song fic..)

Word count: 2,508

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!”

A bright purple blast from Heinz’s disguised inator blasted over the crowd of excited partygoers as they blissfully watched the New Year ball drop; not even registering the unknown light that flashed over them. However, Perry didn’t move from his spot, with arms crossed over his chest and a neutral expression he merely watched as his long-time nemesis finally ‘defeated him’. Even when Heinz gloated about his success and tried to get everyone to follow him to take over the Tri-State area, the platypus stayed in his seat. He knew this plan wouldn’t work out as someone mentioned, -no one ever keeps their New Year resolutions!

Hey, it was a New Year, and even an ‘evil’ scientist deserved a win occasionally. It was a short-lived victory, but seeing that wide, crooked smile and hearing his boisterous laugh made it worth it for the platypus. Perry had to fight back his smirk when he noticed how frustrated Heinz was becoming at the realization that his plans were once again foiled; it was a silent joy the agent took pleasure in. That is until he was called out for still throwing his usual punches and over-the-top cartoony violence despite knowing what would happen. His eyes softened and shoulders raised with a grin curling the side of his beak- because that’s what they do!

Finally, figuring his job was done here, Perry hopped down from the stoop and b-lined it for a side door before any of his family members noticed his presence. Just barely making it to an exit, he looked over his shoulder at the large monitor broadcasting the kids celebrating together back at home. Heinz was gone from the stage, something panged within his chest, but the platypus shook his head and turned to the mob of people near the dancefloor- He couldn’t have gone far.

Couples, friends, and family were all gathered together too enthralled in each other’s company to pay much mind to anything else around them. On the other side of the room were three familiar faces he had been trying to avoid all night- Oh, the irony.

However, instead of turning away, Perry paused and watched his family members enjoy their night together. Candace and her boyfriend were almost like a couple from a fantasy, their sways and spins had them completely take up the room, but their focus was solely on the other. It was as if they were in a fairytale just like the stories Linda would tell her daughter on nights when the little girl couldn’t sleep. Though he’d never admit it to himself, Perry enjoyed the stories as he curled up at the end of her bed to keep company on those especially hard nights. Seeing Jeremy dipped and twirled, Candace brought back that strange tightness to the agent’s chest, but he quickly shook the feeling with a roll of his eyes. He had to remember this was reality, not some made-up fantasy world! Besides, Perry never saw himself as any of kind ‘prince charming’ he always preferred the idea of being a knight instead; plus Heinz would never accept being the ‘damsel in distress’!- Maybe some kind of mischievous alchemist or a warlock.

As both teenagers continued maneuvering through the crowd he spotted Linda and Lawrence dancing together. With interlocked fingers and slow steps together, the married couple leaned their heads against one another while blindly guiding each other. They didn’t need to open their eyes though, having done this dance hundreds of times all they needed was to trust one another. It was as if they were completely cut off from the party’s loud and lively atmosphere; instead, they were lost in each other’s presence and went at their own pace. It was a type of love that only bloomed after years of knowing and accepting one another from the inside and out. From the smallest quirks to even the downright insane ideas they come up with because they were meant for each other as husband and wife. The two embraced one another in a kiss which Perry had to tear his eyes away from to look at his empty teal paws which clenched then opened against his chest- What color would look the best if that ever happened? Wait…

Before his thoughts could get the best of Perry he turned to the exit door that had been his escape route only to be met by a pair of legs that blocked the path. However, his mind only spiraled back to the images he had been trying to shake off as the person in thought stared him down with those midnight hues. A smirk twisted on the man’s lips as he stepped closer and adjusted his bowtie.- OH NOW HE SHOWS UP!?

“Well, well, well, Perry the Platypus… Leaving so soon? The party’s just getting started!” the agent took a step back with fists raised, but Heinz quickly stepped forward with his hands in the air. “No seriously! It’s a New Year’s party and everyone is so busy mingling that the buffet is completely up for grabs! I was thinking about taking a dish or two home honestly and…” Perry lowered his paws and arched an eyebrow, to which his nemesis let out a sigh and started rubbing the back of his neck, “Listen, my plan may not have worked out quite like I thought, b-b-but I still technically won a-and every time you win you always just up and leave, well not this time! New year, new me baby!! Now as the official winner, I do believe a reward is in order!”

With a half-smirk that rivaled Perry’s, Heinz extended a hand out for his nemesis to grab. The agent took a slight glance over his shoulder, his family was on the other side of the wave of people, though he figured if they hadn’t seen him on the stage then perhaps the other was right.- They’re so busy with one another that they wouldn’t even notice.

“Oh come on Perry the Platypus, are you cold feet, or should I be the one to lead this ti-eaahh-!?”

Heinz hadn’t even finished his tease when the small platypus jerked him forward with enough force to cause him to stumble into the crowd. Thankfully, Perry was able to catch the back of his suit before he hit the ground, with another forceful yank backward the platypus caught the taller man with both of his paws looped under his slim back. Thankfully Heinz's heightened reaction time always came in handy as he quickly maneuvered and balanced in the mammal’s grip by bending his knees and encircling his arms around the agent. With wide eyes, Heinz tried to chuckle over the rising lump in his throat as half-lidded chestnut orbs stared back at him. The flush of red started from his ears and he could feel the rush make its way to his face. Heinz started thinking maybe he should’ve found an outfit with fewer layers.

Perry gave a chirr of satisfaction and brought the other back up to his feet, but just for added flair he also took the man’s arms, spun him in a circle then caught his hands again. Once he finally got his balance, Heinz realized he was already following in step with the platypus. Paw in hand, the two mirrored one another and kicked to the beat of the music. However, all they could hear was the thumping of their hearts against their chest as the duo kept up with one another no matter the surprise. When Heinz took both of his paws and crouched to his level, Perry saw a glint of mischievous delight which he quickly understood. Always one step ahead of his nemesis the small mammal hopped in the air so he could be swung once, then twice before somersaulting in the air so he could land on Heinz’s arched back.

“You always have to show off in some sort of way, don’t you? I bet you wouldn’t be as flashy if we were similar heights! Well no matter, because no one can resist the ultimate dance move, the bee’s knees! Muahaha, I guess you can say this is my plan Bee! I’m just buzzing with all kinds of plans this year! Oh, I’m sorry are my amazing puns bugging you? Didn’t know you were such a Buzzkii-aack! Hey!!” With a roll of his eyes, Perry flipped over Heinz’s shoulders and pushed his tophat down further, till it covered his eyes and put an end to his spew of puns. “Alright, alright, I’m done! Yeesh, some just can't appreciate a good joke every so often! Curse you Perry the Platypus!”

While the smug platypus watched the other struggle wriggling the tight brim off of his head, Perry couldn’t fight the silent chuckle any longer. Had his nemesis been able to lift the hat up he would’ve seen the dopiest, most lovestruck smile that overtook his usual nonchalant neutral expression. However, instead the two stopped when the music came to a scratching halt and a voice spoke overhead.

“Alright Ladies, Gentlemen, and Everyone else in between! It’s time to slooooww~ down a bit as we start wrapping this wicked New Year’s party up! So grab a loved one and enjoy the next couple of tracks to start your year off right! Our first song has been highly requested, this goes out to all the couples who’ve been going through it, but are still preserving together! No matter the differences or trials their love is put through, but at the end of the day know it's all worth it for them!!”

Perry was the first to react as he looked up and noticed the lights dimmed to a softer purple and blue with magenta hues that reflected from the spinning disco ball above. From the speakers, a reverbed autotuned voice repeated the words in a language he had learned years ago while in the academy. Just hearing the first handful of lyrics before the beat picked up made the platypus grateful his fur covered his heated face.- I love you, I hate you, I love you, I hate you.

“UGH! Verdammt, dieser blöde Hut!” Perry glanced back to Heinz who gave up on taking off the tight hat. “Great, now I’m stuck annnnd… Perry the Platypus left..” his shoulders sank, “again.. Fantastic, truly, just what I wanted! Ditched, in the middle of a slow-dancing crowd that I can’t even see to get out! I can barely even hear the music. Is this French? What even are some of these lyrics, ‘Better than alone, is to be in bad company’? That’s not even how the saying go-WOoAH!”

Amidst his blind rant, Heinz’s hand was grabbed and tugged to the ground which he hadn’t expected leading to his knees quickly buckling under him. Thankfully, and to his surprise, a small frame caught his fall with short arms wrapping under his armpits.

“P-Perry the Platypus? You’re still here, wh-what are you doing?”

He didn’t get an answer, not even a chitter back; instead, Perry guided the other’s neck down to help him out of this predicament. However, as the small mammal reached up to grab the tophat’s brim he hesitated as the lyrics before the chorus quietly repeated in his mind- Stay close to your dearest friends, but also even closer to your adversaries.

For a split second chestnut brown eyes trailed down to the thin line of Heinz’s lips and trailed up the sharp edges of his jawline. He hadn’t missed the faintly darker shade that slowly rose up his high cheeks partially hidden under the cap. Perry looked straight ahead only to realize how close their nose and beak were. However, no matter how much Heinz complained about his nose constantly ‘being in the way,’ the billed mammal merely saw it as another feature of the scientist that he could easily kii-ck… Kick! Nothing more!

After forgetting his thoughts, the agent gave the top hat a quick yet forceful tug which managed to at least free his face from the confines. Well, this was a bad idea on Perry’s end as the grown man looked down at him with wide eyes that matched the dark sky. The magenta-accented lights only made them shimmer like he held the stars in them, but to the other, he held the galaxy.- What kind of emotion, is it hatred, or pure sweetness when I hear your name?

“Er… Perry the Platypus, are you ok? You look like you’ve either seen a ghost or considering punching me in the.. I haven’t even done anything! You’re the one holding me down here! A-Anyways, thanks for the help I’ll go ahead and get back up nn..-ooow!! Will you stop doing that!? I am not just some doll you can drag arounnn… what are you doing?”

Before Heinz made a move to start standing he was pulled back down by his nemesis who stared up at him with a narrow glare, but something seemed different. Perry didn’t move, his eyes were locked onto his, but he seemed lost in thought. Was there something on his face? Maybe the hat left an awkward indentation across his face, his cheeks were definitely becoming warm from the blood circulating back up, that was all it was, surely! Raising a hand, Heinz went to rub the irritation from his face, but his palm was caught by a small paw.

Perry could do this, they’ve danced together numerous times! This couldn’t be any different than every other time hes led them through it. The steps on how to dance with his nemesis came to his mind as he reached his right paw around Heinz’s waist. However, despite the closed distance when the platypus took the first step back, the hunched man didn’t follow along. His knees barely had room to move forward comfortably, not to mention it seemed the other wasn’t sure what was going on.This wasn’t going to work, this was a stupid idea to begin with! It was like the song was taunting him at this point.- But my best enemy is you.. Flee from me, the worst is you and I.

A small irritated growl escaped from the agent as his shoulders dropped, but he didn’t let go of the scientist in his small hold. He took one more glance up and down his face before sighing and pulled Heinz up from his knees.

“Wh- You pulled me down to the ground just so you could help me back up!? You know Perry the Platypus, sometimes you’re a real mystery to even me..”

Perry could feel his eye twitch at his nemesis’s obliviousness, it truly was a blessing and a curse for the platypus. Quickly though he turned around while pulling his fedora down, the once mild warmth that started under his fur was making its way down his bill. Was it from frustration or the embarrassment? Honestly, Perry wasn’t entirely sure himself. But the last lyrics of the song only hammered in how truly felt.- I hate you, I love you, I hate you, I love you..

Well thank you guys for reading this far! If you’ve seen the next part of their comic then you’ll know where this is gonna lead, but I just gotta work out the kinks and knots and stuff lmaooo!!!

I’ve been really wanting to find an excuse to write these two dancing and this is the closest imma get until I get to the ball scene in my Cinderella au, so this shall suffice!

Like always thank you guys for even reading this far and much love to all of you!!! Hope you guys enjoyed and uh… yeah.. 🤎💙💕

[rebelliousstories]

Welcome to Tortuga

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Mentions of Drinking

Word Count: 1,514

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: In a word full of pirates, codes, and mystery, a pirate’s life just might be the life to live.

Consider Donating: Here

Tortuga. A little hideaway in the middle of the ocean. A place where there were very few laws, but everyone lived by a code. Whether that was pirate, thief, or assassin; everyone lived by a code.

The whispers around the island that day were the stuff of legend. Mostly, because everyone was talking about the stuff of legends. Le Diable Blanc was seen about five hundred yards off the coast of Tortuga, which meant that he was coming.

Legends surrounding the ship and her crew stretched back to the first time she ever set sail. A smooth talking, sharp witted Cajun was at her helm spewing French and English curses alike to anyone that dared to cross them. However, her captain was also known to be a fair man to work for. He treated his crew well, so long as they stayed inside the lines. When they worked, it was a tight ship. When they played, anything was on the table.

And everyone in Tortuga knew this. When Le Diable Blanc came into port, Tortuga knew it was going to be a good pay day. Not only was the captain a wonderful captain, he was an even better pirate. Plundering every known and secret treasure from sea to sea. Them coming to town meant that the working girls were going to spend their evenings in the company of men that would have the bartenders getting richer and richer.

Gold, beer, food, and merriment was the night that they were to look forward to; crew and Tortugans alike.

“Bring her in nice and easy, der. Don’ wanna wreck Tortuga before we get there, mon amis! Only after!” Remy shouted to his men. Seeing the shores ahead, he started getting antsy. Only a few more moments before he could go check on her.

“Bonjour, Captian LeBeau!” A man shouted from the dock, awaiting with his own crew to help the infamous boat make port.

“Ah, bonjour Francis. Ready for a good few days, mon ami?” The captain called from the side of the boat, watching both crews working diligently to secure the vessel so that they may depart.

“Always when you come to town, LeBeau.” Now, Remy was able to stare down at the dock below, as his ship had finally come to the side of the dock. The plank was thrown, and he went ahead to step down first.

Brown leather boots that were impeccably crafted added some heft to his step. Dark grayish colored pants offset the creamy white billowy shirt on top. However, the long sweeping warm brown leather great coat that adorned his shoulders, trimmed in magenta, was his defining mark. There was just something about it that drew attention, whether that was good or bad, Remy did not care.

Stepping onto the dock, the man who had been nicknamed “Gambit” on account of his strategy for acquiring more loot, greeted Francis with a hearty handshake and hug. “Welcome back to Tortuga, monsieur LeBeau.”

“Always good to be back, monsieur Noir.” Waving his crew down, they piled out onto the dock.

Turning back to his crew, Remy made sure to project his voice. “We have three days in Tortuga before we depart. The ship will depart at sunrise the fourth day. Be here. Allons-y!”

Excited by the adventure that awaited, the crew took off like lightning; all the booze, women and gambling that was about to take place enticed them. With a chuckle, Remy began to make his way into town.

“Do you require anything, captain?” Francis followed after.

“No, no, no. Well, maybe later. A room at the inn. But for now no. Merci, mon ami.” Shaking hands, the two men parted ways. Francis went off to another port to supervise another ship’s docking, while Remy went deeper into the heart of the city.

As he did, he saw his crew engaging in debauchery as they let loose from the three months at see. It was not the most glamorous time, being on the sea constantly, but everyone made do. Sure, the gold and treasure was lovely, but there was something to be said about the touch of a woman after so long.

“Remy! Remy! Come over here!” He heard the enchanting call of ladies of the night. Turning to walk backwards for a bit, the captain blew them a kiss, before continuing on ahead. Instead of stopping in the middle of the town, Gambit continued to head towards the outskirts of the town on the other side.

Dark waters came into view not too much longer after. Reaching a hand into his inside jacket pocket, Remy felt the weight of the necklace that he was about to give up. But it did not matter how many pieces of jewelry he relinquished, it would all be worth it. Sitting on the rocks near the crashing waves was a woman who was gently combing her hair out.

No matter how many times he saw here, Gambit was still in awe that he got to witness this gorgeous creature in all her glory. Traversing the rough terrain, he tried not to slip on the rocks that were slick with algae beneath his feet. As he drew near, Remy stayed as quiet as possible.

Right in the woman’s ear, he whispered, “did you enjoy the journey?”

She squealed, turning in shock at the man that was there. Her claws were poised and ready to go, fangs were breaking free of their confinement. Scales were shining from the distant lights gleaming from the town behind them.

“Remy,” the woman breathed softly, “you scared me, mon amour.”

Retracting the claws and fans, she tried to ensure that everything that could hurt the man was gone before holding his face and bringing him in for a kiss. She relaxed into his arms that had sound their way around her waist, fingers teasing the scales right there at the edge. Pulling away when she felt the need for air, her eyes raked over his face. “I missed you, Remy.”

“I missed you, chere. But, I got a present for you.” He replied, reaching into his coat pocket once more. Pulling the necklace out, he waited patiently to see what her reaction was going to be. A pendant with a large blue ultramarine stone sat in the center, with lots of little diamonds surrounding it on a gorgeous silver chain. Her hands went to her mouth as she gasped.

“You can trade de chain for your cord if you’d like. Got it shortly after we left the Caribbean coast last time. Managed to raid a jewelers ship. Thought you’d look pretty with dis on.” Gambit explained, continuing to watch her reaction.

“Oh, Remy. For me? Really?” Her words were that of disbelief.

“Nothin’ but da best for mon chere. Here,” and he began to drop it around her neck. Clasping it, he let his hands linger around her shoulders that were slightly damp as her hair hand yet to finish drying.

Without another word, she lurched forward, and tackled him with kisses. Remy could only chuckle at the woman’s affections. However, she slipped just a bit as the scales on the lower half of her body were unable to stay put on the slick algae beneath them. He caught her, and just hauled her up onto his lap.

“No, no, no. Your clothes, Remy.” She tried to protest, only to be met with a kiss that made her quiet.

“I’ll change them when I head back in. Da Gambit don’t mind them gettin’ a bit wet if it means holdin’ you, chere.” While one hand stayed around her waist, the other came up to cup her cheek. She nuzzled into it, enjoying the warmth he provided.

“When you do leave?” The woman asked softly.

“Four sunrises from now. We headin’ back towards England. Maybe a stop in at France. You gonna come along?” Remy brushed his fingers over the textured scales all along her face, enjoying the feeling underneath the tips of his fingers.

“Of course. I go where you go.” Leaning in, her promise was sealed with a deep, and loving kiss. The one thing she never grew tired of was kissing him above the water. However, there was the tinge of something bitter in her mind that soured the lip lock for her. Something that Remy was able to pick up in a heartbeat.

“Don’ worry, chere.” He reassured her, pulling away from the kiss. “We gon’ find who did dis to ya and make dem change ya back. I swear it.”

“I hope so, Remy.” Her face found its way into his neck as they looked out on the waves ahead. The stars were so pretty over here, something that they both enjoyed looking at.

It was a difficult thing to love a pirate. A difficult life to lead. But they would not have it any other way. It was the life they led, and it was the life they chose. And specifically, they chose to do it side by side. A siren and a pirate.