#nothing to see here just making mixer

[bi-writes]

thinking about mob baking simon a cake for his birthday (without his prior knowledge) mm good soup

mail-order bride

"you think he likes chocolate, baby?" you ask the cats. they sit side-by-side at the breakfast counter, being good girls as they sit on their chairs and watch you mix batter. "he totally likes chocolate. big boys like daddy love chocolate, don't they, girls?"

you grease two circular pans, pouring the chocolate cake batter into them. you set them in the oven before getting to work on your chocolate buttercream. you're using the new mixer simon bought you--it's beautiful, stainless steel, heavy. when you saw in the store a few weeks ago, you gushed at it, telling simon you saw someone make cinnamon rolls, bread, cakes, all in this mixer, but when your eyes skimmed over the price, you said nothing more, just smiled up at simon and let him lead you over to where the cast iron pans were (you wanted a real one).

a few weeks later, you noticed it on the kitchen counter. sparkling silver, right there, with the whisk attachment on it just waiting for you. and in the cupboard, ingredients--bread flour, powdered sugar, cornmeal, corn starch, dutch process, baking chocolate, whole wheat flour--all for you to play with. and when you baked him the most decadent triple chocolate coffee cake he had ever had, he bent you over the same table his empty plate sat and ate your cunt out with your apron still on. when you kissed him afterwards, he still tasted like chocolate.

you turn off the mixer, reaching in with a spoon to lick the buttercream off of it. you hum with delight, setting it aside, and when the oven timer dings, you pull the cakes out to let them cool.

you wrap simon's present as everything settles. special order, a favor you called into johnny. it's in a nice wooden box, and you tie a big red bow on it, and when you go back into the kitchen, you level and stack the two pieces of cake between buttercream and use a spoon to make a fancy decoration over the top of it.

the front door sounds as you're putting the finishing touches on the cake. you can hear him coming closer, and you gasp.

"no, no, no, don't come in the kitchen yet!"

"wot?"

"just--wait a little bit in the living room, okay?"

"for wot?"

"simon--" you groan. "please? for me?"

you don't hear anything after that except for the tv turning on. when you finish putting the last candles on the cake, you light them, picking up the plate and coming into the living room.

simon looks surprised. he was concentrating hard on the tv, watching the game, but his face relaxes when he sees you holding the cake. the cats perk up from where they're laid down beside him, and their ears flit as you start to sing happy birthday.

his whole face twitches. he stiffens, his palms flat on his thighs as he grips them tight. you set down the cake on the coffee table in front of him, candles glowing as you take a seat next to him. he's still staring at the cake as you finish the song.

"happy birthday, dear simon...happy birthday to you."

you smile at him, wrapping a hand around his bicep, squeezing it gently. you kiss his shoulder before motioning to the cake.

"you can blow them out now, simon," you say softly. "make a wish."

he doesn't move. he stares straight ahead, his eyes fixated on the flickering candles. you reach down and take his hand in yours, intertwining your fingers and hugging his arm. you sit with him quietly, looking at the cake with him, and after a minute or so, you turn back at him.

"simon?" you whisper.

he's crying. you put a hand on the back of his head, scratching his short hair, and you cup his face gently as you wipe his tears. he's silent. the tears come, but he still doesn't move, still won't meet your eyes. you smile, going over to pick up the cake, and you hold it in front of him.

"here...make a wish, simon," you say softly. he picks up his sleeve and wipes his face, leaning over to blow out the candles. you put down the cake, standing up to go get his gift sitting on the kitchen table. when you sit down next to him again, he's still staring at the cake, still trying to pretend his face isn't wet with tears, but he stops wiping them when you place the box in his lap.

he unravels the bow. when he opens the case, he lets out a little chuckle, smoothing his hand over the foam inside.

there are an array of throwing knives laid before him. perfectly crafted, in different shapes and sizes, and when he picks one up and twirls it around between his fingers, the weight of them and the ease at which they move tells him you only picked out the finest quality. they're beautiful, and it's a thoughtful gift, and when he closes the lid on the box, he still can't meet your eyes.

"i'll cut us some cake," you say softly. you busy yourself getting plates and a cake knife from the kitchen, cutting generous slices before handing him one of the plates. he picks up the fork, and when you notice his hand shakes, you take the plate back from him gently and scoop a bite onto the fork for him. you don't say anything, just hold it up to his mouth, and once he takes a bite, you set the plate down and watch as he chews.

when he swallows, you sit again in silence. you reach over and take simon's hands in your own, squeezing them gently before bringing them up to your mouth to kiss softly. when he finally looks at you, all you do is smile.

he hadn't even remembered it was birthday. he never told you when it was, but he supposes you must have been curious enough to look for yourself. he can't remember the last time someone made him cake. he can't remember when he last received a gift, especially one like this. he doesn't know when he last thought himself happy enough to celebrate anything at all, but there is no other way he would've wanted today to go.

joy. you bring uninhibited, unfiltered, all-consuming joy. the way you're smiling at him--he can already see you in the kitchen in that apron, baking this cake, talking to no one but the cats as you carefully decorate it. the way you're looking at him--he knows you dreamed about this all week, scheduling the day so you could have the cake done as soon as he got home.

and chocolate. his favorite. decadent, sweet chocolate--it's still under his tongue, and he wants another bite already, he cannot wait to devour the slice that waits for him on the table.

"happy birthday, simon," you whisper, and when you lean in to hug him, he cradles the back of your head, tangling a hand into your hair as he presses you to his chest. "i love you."

fuck. fuck, fuck, fuck--

"love you, too, baby."

"what did you wish for?" you mumble into his shoulder. simon snorts a little, shaking his head.

"if i tell ya, it won't come true."

"oh, yeah," you giggle. "keep your secrets then."

he doesn't want more; the only thing he wishes for is more time. more time with you. as much as he can get. to live long enough that he gets to see your face for as long as possible.

that whatever he sees for the last time will be you and you only.

[rafesangelita]

i feel like rafe and sweetheart!readers first kiss comes from reader but rafe deepens it. like she’s teaching him how to make frosting and he’s got some on the corner of his mouth and sweetheart!reader is like “uhm rafe… you have- nvm” and just stand on her tiptoes to kiss it off and he goes nuts sitting her on the counter to finally kiss her the way hes wanted to the whole time.

warnings: fluff, heated kissing, rafe hating his job lol

“make sure you leave the mixer in there long enough.” you were currently teaching rafe how to make your infamous buttercream frosting, and even though he was doing good, he couldn’t stop himself from dipping his finger inside the bowl every five seconds.

“it’s gonna be gone before we could finish!” you laughed, playfully swatting his hand away. “alright, alright.” he backed away, watching as you took over mixing for him. “i really appreciate you, you know..” you had spoken up, meeting his eyes.

“for what?” you stopped what you were doing, leaning against the counter to face him. “for everything. i don’t even have to ask you to do anything for me, you just do it.” you shrugged. rafe nodded, smiling softly. the action drew your attention to his lips, a smudge of frosting smeared on the corner.

you giggled, shaking your head as you pointed at his mouth. “what?” he started wiping his face, your giggles turning into full on laughter as he continued to miss the spot. “where is it?!” just as you were about to reach up, you noticed the frosting on your own fingers.

“just- um, okay..” you tippy toed, bringing your lips to barely brush over his before pulling away. rafe just about died when he saw you lick away the sweet mixture, your eyes sparkling as you looked up at him. “did i overstep?” it was silent for a few moments before you found yourself being manhandled.

his lips were on yours in an instant, both of you melting into each other’s touch. you’d wanted this from him since the day he bought your entire basket of cookies at the country club. you moaned into the kiss as he picked you up, placing you on the counter.

nothing, not even the bowl of frosting next to you two, was sweeter than hearing those pretty sounds leave your lips. rafe wasted no time, slotting himself between your thighs as his hands dug into the skin of your waist. he had never wanted someone this bad.

you weren’t used to being kissed like this, your fingers trailing across his chest as he deepened it, his tongue finding yours. butterflies fluttered in your tummy when you heard rafe groan. “y/n..” he pulled away breathlessly, swallowing thickly at the sight of your already swollen lips.

“don’t stop.” you tugged on his shirt, a smug look forming on his face. as much as he wanted to keep going and flip up that skirt of yours, he pulled away, hard as a rock in his jeans. you noticed immediately, wanting nothing more than to please him in that very moment.

“i don’t want you to think i’m here just to have my way with you.” he cleared his throat, your shoulders falling in defeat when you heard the jingle of his truck keys. “i know that..” you trailed off, stepping closer to him. he took your lips again, this time placing his hand on the small of your back.

your eyes fluttered closed, your dainty palm resting in the curve of his neck. “please don’t leave.” you whispered, his erection pressing against your stomach. rafe pecked you one more time before his phone rang.

“hello? yeah, i-, i’m on the the way already.. yes, i know we have work early. alright. i’ll see you.”

“that was my dad. we have a job in the morning.” he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “when we take that step, i don’t want to be in a rush to get home or leave you before you wake up.” rafe held your face in his hands, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

you didn’t want that either. nodding at his words, you hugged him, relishing in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you. “okay.” you hated every second of watching him walk to his truck. “we’ll pick up where we left off, ‘promise sweetheart.” you smiled, giving him a small wave as he drove away.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hi, I was wondering… could you write a scenario/one-shot with the player Player(Reader) where instead of the final battle with Doey we manage to calm him down and comfort him after Safe Haven was destroyed.

idk I just want to hug the Dough Boy

Ngl I had this one requested to me by like 5 people. So here's that much-needed fix it fic <3

.........

Hearing the distant screaming of who you could only assume was Doey, you rushed through the tunnel with a pounding heart.

You've never felt more terrified than you did right now.

Not long after killing the Doctor, the Prototype decided to make his move and lay waste to the Safe Haven. Ollie alerted you to the situation and told you how to repair the generator while Doey and the others fended off the outside threat.

Then you headed down to the foundation at Poppy's insistence, setting up the explosives you collected and eventually running into the doughman again within the caves.

He seemed utterly confused, having been chasing the Prototype away from Safe Haven...

Only to realize too little too late that was his intention all along..

An explosion suddenly rocked the sanctuary, prompting the two of you to rush back to see how bad the destruction was. It took you a while to get there considering your limitations as a human wearing a grabpack, so you could only imagine what Doey was seeing to make him scream that loudly.

When you finally made it through the infirmary, past a handful of Mini Smiling Critter corpses, your heart sunk into the pit of your stomach, horrified at the scene before you:

The decrepit yet colorful place the toys once found safety in...was totally reduced to rubble. Small fires burned all around you---and in the midst was a little Bobby Bearhug, who Doey was currently grieving over.

They might have been a nuisance to you in the playhouse, but these ones--the ones who refused to give into their savagery during the Hour of Joy--were innocent little souls. Doey had sworn to protect them over the years, keeping them sheltered from the outside..

And in an instant, they were gone.

All of them.

Because he wasn't there.

"I'm sorry...I'm so, so sorry." He choked out, seemingly unaware of your presence. "I failed you. I was never what any of you needed. I-I was only made to hurt things. My fault...my fault..." With a small sob, he brought his hands to his face.

You were utterly devastated, too.

How could this happen?

How could you let that damn machine trick you?

"Doey, I'm..." You stepped forward, only to freeze as he suddenly turned to you, now eerily silent.

The look in his big hollow eyes...was nothing short of pure anger.

"Hurt...everything hurts." He snarled, his nubby fingers balled up into fists. "Hurt back. ALWAYS hurt back. Parents. Scientists. Everyone! Have to-"

His body experienced a tremor, and he now looked utterly grief-striken once more, his voice now sounding depressed and weepy. "My friends! He killed my friends!" He sobbed, wiping at his tears.

At first you wondered what was going on with him, until you remembered the tapes and notes you've gathered throughout your journey--quite a handful discussed his time as an experiment and how he came to be, well, Doey.

Apparently the mad scientists here had the brilliant idea to take three children--boys to be precise--and blend them into one 900 pound pile of dough and bring it to life, thinking that nothing could possibly go wrong.

One of them, Kevin, had anger issues that drove him to become violent towards other children--even those who were his friends. The other was Matthew, who seemed to be the calmest and most mature, and the one you've most likely been talking to this whole time. Then there was Jack, a very young kid who fell into a dough mixer and was forced to become part of Doey as some "life-saving" measure.

Had it not been for the information you discovered, you never would've understood what was happening to the toy you've allied yourself with.

But now you realize he was unstable.

Because of the sheer trauma of Safe Haven's destruction.

"You. It all started with you." Doey pointed at you accusingly, Kevin dominating the conversation once more. "You and her...IT WAS YOU WHO RUINED EVERYTHING!!" He screamed.

"What?" Your eyes went wide, horrified that he'd blame you for all of this. "No, that's...you seriously think this was all my fault?! I had no idea this was going to happen!"

"LIAR!! You two led him to us." He growled. "You shouldn't have come back...NEVER SHOULD HAVE COME BACK!!"

His body wriggled once more, with Matthew trying his best to stay in control, afraid of what he'd might do. "No, no. That's not true. They jumpstarted the generator, they--" He smacked the side of his head, and he was lost again, Kevin's rage being too overbearing. "DESTROYED EVERYTHING!! I'LL KILL YOU!!!"

'No..no, no, no...' You panicked internally, slowly backing away as you saw sharp orange teeth starting to break through his mouth. 'Please, god..don't make me hurt another one...'

Why did this have to happen again?

You were so, so tired of having to fight.

After he saved you from Pianosaurus, made his sanctuary a home to you, and kept you smiling throughout your trip inside this hellhole....it was now going to come down to either you or him walking away alive?

In a blind rage, Doey's enlarged fist swung at a concrete pillar beside him, and as it crumbled....so did the ceiling above him that was barely supported by that single pillar.

Now nothing could stop the rubble from crashing down onto him--

Except for you and your quick thinking, using both grabpack hands to grip his arms and drag him towards you with all your might. Upon release, you jumped back as he fell to the ground, looking to see the massive pile of debris he would've been buried under.

It made you feel relieved, afraid of what might've become of him.

"You...why did you do that? You think that makes you a hero?!!"

Before you could blink, Doey suddenly had you in his grasp, holding you up high in the air with both hands, itching to crush you and eat you alive. "WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!!" His features began distorting, looking more reptilian in nature. "I said I'd kill you!! KILL EVERYONE WHO HURTS ME!!!"

For a brief moment, you thought you saw a few pairs of glowing red eyes within his widening mouth, but they quickly retreated--except for one angry-looking set.

Yet you stared at them, your resolve unwavering. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"....what?" He was shocked by your cold answer, and that only fueled his outrage. "IDIOT?! I'M NOT THE IDIOT!! YOU'RE THE IDIOT!!!"

"Don't you get it?! This is exactly what the Prototype wants! He wants to see us fight and tear each other apart! Destroy whatever unity we had left!" You snapped, despite your voice trembling. "You think I wanted this to happen?! You think I wanted Poppy to drag me into this mess?!"

"......."

"I only came here because of a stupid note. From somebody I knew who claims they're still alive. But...they can't be. I was tricked by him. I tried to leave, but Poppy...she redirected the train that was my only way out of here, saying I'm "the only one" who can help her...but I never wanted that responsibility, Doey."

For once, "Kevin" remained silent, although he still had you in his clutches. But he looked surprised to hear that she took away your chance at escaping this place.

She never mentioned that to him.

She only said you came willingly..

"Something's not right with her. You know it. I know it. And I'm sure Kissy knows it even if she can't tell us. We've all felt used by her. To do the dirty work that somehow keeps bringing the Prototype closer to us."

"...you could have talked her out of it.." He finally responded. "Yet you...you went along with her plan anyway. YOU KILLED THEM!! KILLED MY FRIENDS!! Our friends.." Jack briefly returned, sniffling. "T-They thought you were good...they thought you were nice..I-I thought Poppy was, too."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I should have heard you out. I had no idea it was gonna lead to all of this. I swear to god..I didn't know.." You sighed shakily, hoping he'd be willing to listen to reason. "You have every right to blame me. But..we can't let them die in vain. The Doctor's gone, so all we have to do is get to him. But first...I need you to put me down."

"......"

"Please, Doey. I don't care if you hate me for this. I don't expect your forgiveness. Let's just....kill the Prototype..and you can do whatever you want to me afterwards. I'm tired of fighting people I've come to see as friends. I've got enough blood on my hands."

At first, it seemed like all your attempts at resolving this without violence were futile, as he was just breathing raggedly, like he were an animal who was too far gone.

But then you saw his features twitch, resembling what they were before. His eyes also had that familiar sad look to them, indicating Matthew had somehow regained full control--at least for the moment.

"I..." He sniffled, setting you down on the ground. "I'm sorry. We--I was just...so hurt by what happened. And....And I just looked for somebody to blame. I shouldn't have lashed out. I shouldn't have-"

"Hey, it's okay, Doey. I know you didn't mean it." You reassured him, happy he returned to his senses, before you turned around to see that same Mini-Bobby still laying on the floor, who somehow didn't get crushed by the rubble.

Without saying a word, you crouched down to pick up the little Smiling Critter, cradling her despite the blood. You saw a piece of playmat that managed to survive the explosion. Although it wasn't much, it was better than her laying on the ash-ridden concrete, so you decided to set her down on it.

Doey just looked on in silence, removing his hat as a show of respect, still mulling over his angry words and how he threatened your life.

There's no way you could have predicted the Prototype's next move.

Then, as though a miracle were sent from above...Mini-Bobby suddenly gasped, coming back to life.

Both of you were initially shocked, although you were quick to comfort her as she coughed a few times, smoking clogging her senses. "Hahh..gah..wh-what happened?" She hoarsely asked, seeing you two and the surrounding flames, before it all clicked. "The Safe Haven...it's..."

"I'm sorry. It's no more." You frowned a little, helping her sit up. "Go through that tunnel and stay quiet. I'll be there to retrieve you. Just keep yourself away from all this smoke."

She nodded managing to get up and limp towards the tunnel you came from.

Doey was astonished. "Bu....But I thought..she...."

"Looks like not everybody perished. There might be more survivors-" You turned back to face him.....only to get engulfed by his arms, and for a moment you thought Kevin returned and was about to crush you like a grape.

Until you heard loud sobbing and felt his entire body tremble, realizing it was Jack instead, and your relief returned.

"There, there, big guy." You hugged him back, smiling sadly. "You're okay. We're gonna get through this together. He'll pay for what he's done to our friends. I'll make sure of it."

"I-I don't wanna be here anymore..I just want mommy...a-and daddy..." He cried.

"I know. I don't wanna be here, either. We're gonna find a way out."

"...I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to get so angry.."

"I know you didn't. I forgive you."

[acotarxreader]

Swept Away

Cassian x Reader, Rhysand's sister

Synopsis: Cassian is growing desperate to make his feelings about you known but Rhysand is ever protective of his little sister.

Warnings: Silly, Angst, pining, blood, a creep in a bar, poor Azriel wing-manning like nobody's business, protective Cassian, overprotective Rhysand

A/N: A Cassian fic because it has been some time since he's been featured on the blog. I hope you guys enjoy this silly lil guy. Please forgive any mistakes in this, I wrote it while not feeling the best.

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

Cassian stood at the edge of one of the Windhaven training rings, his two brothers sparring across the mud. To the untrained eye, they looked as though they were gonna kill one another but Cassian knew this was all just goofing around. He felt his heart vibrate off his ribcage, waiting for Rhysand to tire himself out enough that he wouldn’t chase and mangle him for the question he was going to ask. He counted through his breaths, forcing himself to focus on releasing the stress from his chest. They finally stopped their clashing, neither conceding but both ready for dinner, calling a truce as they bellowed out brotherly laughter. 

“Hey Cass, ready for the mixer tonight?” Rhysand wiped his sweaty brow with his forearm, gratefully taking the cup of water offered by Azriel. 

“Oh yeah yeah, very excited, have a good session?” he spoke quickly, eager to get the words out of him before he lost his nerve.

“Definitely, I feel on cloud 9 now”

“Good, good, soooo just letting you know-I’m-going-to-ask-YN-out-tonight-after-the-mixer-okay-bye!” Cassian vibrated out before spinning on his heel and moving to bolt away. 

“Oh fuck” Azriel whispered as Rhysand caught hold of Cassian's shoulder, turning him back to face him. In hindsight, maybe saying this to Rhysand when he was pumped full of testosterone wasn’t the correct call Cassain thought. 

“Sorry Cass, I think I hallucinated, what did you say?” “I’m going to ask YN out”

“No, you’re not” A laugh left Rhysand as he released his shoulder and loosened the belt of blades slung around him. 

“Why not?” Azriel inhaled a breath that sounded like “here we go” at Cassian's question. 

“She’s my sister, so she’s like your sister, it's like illegal or something” Cassian scoffed a laugh at Rhysand’s half-answer.

“Except the four of us aren’t actually siblings and the sentiment is nice and all but I’m not her brother, I want to ask her out, nothing creepy about it” Rhysand’s turn to laugh at Cassian, shoving him back lightly at the words and leaning down to loosen his training boots.

“Nah Cass, forget it, move on, I forbid it”

“You what?” he bit out in return, Azriel’s eyes darting between the two, this was going to turn into another savage argument, he could see it. 

“Right, let's leave it there-” Azriel tried but was almost immediately cut off by Rhysand.

“-Yeah, I forbid it. I don’t want things to get messy”

“They won’t, I think we would be- “-Forget it Cass, enough drama was caused with Mor-” Azriel took a sharp inhale at Rhysand’s low blow, the two males began to square up to one another just as you called from the sidelines. 

“Hey! Come on, start getting ready, have a bath before the smell poisons the flowers” you beamed, raising an eyebrow at Azriel at the weird energy. He just shook his head at you not to get involved. Your gaze separated the two males, both storming away to their quarters. 

“Fuckers always leave me to tidy up” Azriel signed, picking up the kit the three had used in training. 

—---------------------------------------------

The howling Winter wind ripped through the hills of the Illyrian mountains, coursing through Windhaven. You looked out through the living room window of the place you called home in this unforgiving climate.

“YN? Are you okay?” Your brother whispered from the front door as he shook off the biting snow. 

“I’m fine Rhys, how was the mixer?” 

“Unsurprisingly violent-” He laughed, a small smile growing on your face at the sound “-Are you sure you’re okay? You look as though you are going to run away” Rhysand laughed again to cover his rising worry.

“Nothing to concern yourself with Rhys, I’m going to just go read in my room” You tried your best to beam back in your usual way to him, rising from the window seat and wandering to your room down the hall. Rhysand questioned whether or not he should follow you, deciding to return to bed and inquire further in the morning.

You stared up at the ceiling, the clock yearning to strike midnight as you sighed. You quietly strapped on your shoes and sheathed yourself in your thickest jacket. You ever so gently lifted the sash window of your ground-level room and slipped out into the night, knowing your brother and mother would go feral with the knowledge of you going into the Illyrian camp unattended at night, despite your own strength. 

You moved through the shadows of the grey mountain stone buildings, dipping out of the sight of passing party-worn Illyrians until you found yourself wandering down the disused service lane heading in the direction of the closest village. The chill sent shapes of cold down your spine as you fought the feeling of watching wild eyes from the deep thick woods the lane cut through. Your wings clung tight to your back trying to draw any ounce of warmth possible. You stopped and stretched before launching into your routine jogging trailing along the outskirts of the busy village, a relaxed breath releasing the stress.

Swirled in your own deep thoughts, the sudden weight thrown into your side caught you entirely off guard as you instinctively screamed. A hand wrapped tightly around your jaw preventing further alarm from being raised in your desperate shouts.

The wooded path grew thicker and thicker the further you were hauled into the woods, worst-case scenarios dancing across your mind. The movement suddenly stopped as you felt the solid thud of the body of a tree meeting your back, you forced your eyes open to meet your perpetrator. 

“Boo”

“GODS! YOU FUCKING JERK CASSIAN!” You pushed Cassian backwards and almost off his feet while lashing him with your hands into his shoulder blades while he hunched over howling laughing. 

“Your face!” he managed between laughs, half choking.

“Don’t do that to me! I thought it was one of the trainee warriors trying to earn his stripes!”

“Don't even joke about that YN, I’d kill them where they stood” his suddenly serious tone cut through you before you smiled at him. Cassian seemingly remembered the fright he gave you, returning to his laughter as you both strolled back towards the path. 

“I’ll walk you back YN, protect you from-”

“-From psychopaths who might sweep me away into the woods?!” you cut across him, now both laughing into the freezing night. 

“Why are you out so late anyway? Your mother and Rhys would be very unhappy with you”

“I could say the same to you” You raised an eyebrow to the warrior.

“I had business, I care not to go further into it with a Lady” he faux bowed towards you, gaining an eye-roll from you.

“Seriously YNN, what’s with the twilight running?”

“Nothing really”

“Tell me or I’ll start singing” You gave a sceptical look towards your dear friend before he took a deep inhale and belted half a note of pure torture, your hand covering his mouth at the release of the crow song. 

“Okay okay!” You laughed, pulling back your hand “-I was actually… I was actually thinking of going home to Velaris” You admitted, ending the momentary comfortable silence that bounced off the ancient trees. Cassian pursed his lips in thought, trying his best to not show all his cards, a futile attempt. 

“This is why we can’t be together YNN, so hung up on the glitz and glamour of city life, can't appreciate the wild” 

“I’m pretty sure the reason we can't be together is that I don’t like you” Cassain put his hand to his chest feigning hurt, you scoffed at your long-time friend before continuing along the path.

“No more nightly running alone YN, seriously dangerous especially for precious cargo like a High Lord's daughter, someone might take you as their chance to prove themselves and then I’ll have to commit murder and I don’t like my leathers to get messy” he ran a hand through his hair as you fought the urge to shove him again. 

“Aw you think I’m precious” you sarcastically shot back

“The most precious thing we have in this dump” his sincere tone ringing through you.

“We'll leave here someday Cass, get on with our real lives”

“We?”

“Well yeah I'm going to need someone to carry my bags” you smirk and he nudges you across the snowy path.

“Can't leave my partner in crime behind me now can I?” His genuine smile of gratitude made you feel warm. He always did. No one could quite understand him like you. The subtle glow of the training camp in the far distance came into view and you sighed at the sight. 

“Come on Cass, come get a drink in the village, I don’t want to head back just yet” he nodded to your great idea as you looped your arm through his for warmth and sauntered back towards the village. 

—----------------------

The village bar was heaving with Fae, all deeply relying on the crutch of alcohol to soothe their woes. You attempted to play snooker with Cassian, well beyond the scope of your ability. After playing and losing a few rounds with him, you sat at the bar away from his ridicule, allowing him to play more challenging opponents.

You sat cross-legged on the bar stool absent-mindedly tracing circles along the rim of your glass of caramel colour liquor. A rough hand found its way to your thigh, snapping your attention to the wall-like Fae it belonged to. 

“He-y it's the Night’s se-xy daughteeer, hey baaaby” The slur of words matched the smothering stench of centuries of whiskey leaving his wrinkled mouth. 

“Um Hi” You pushed his hand down roughly before it returned just as quickly and much higher, now squeezing your thigh making you tense. The much older Fae came closer to your face, leaning and whispering drunken inappropriate schemes in your ear. You scoffed in utter disgust, shoving him completely back from you. 

“Hey Prin-cess, you don’t fucking do that! Come here!” He almost spat at you, roughly catching you by the waist and pulling you off the stool. His fingers buried into your skin and you found it difficult to slip out of his vice-grip-like hands.

A hand laid flat on his shoulder from behind as he grunted to being interrupted. He turned to meet Cassian fist straight into his glass jaw sending him cold to the floor. You found yourself gasping, no one else reacting in the busy bar used to Illyrian antics. 

“Cassian!”

“Come on, we’re going” he caught your wrist and pulled you from the bar, stepping over the creep's body as you were pulled along. You hurriedly slipped on your jacket, the freezing breeze of the night burning your skin as you were pulled into the baltic night.

“Cass, slow down, you're going to take my arm out of the socket” you groaned at the slight pain he was causing you as you found it difficult to keep up with his rapid pace back down the service lane. 

“Such a fucking asshole”

“I was handling it Cass!”

“Oh yeah YN, really looked like that” you huffed at his sarcasm, anger growing in both of you the further you got from the bar. 

“Get off my case fucking hell”

“He could have run off with you”

“So?! What does it even matter to you?! Seriously Cass, slow down, you're not racing a Naga!”

“It does matter to me! I don’t want some ancient creep all over you” Cassian continued his marching in front of you, your wrist firmly caught. 

“You're the same when any male talks to me! You’re worse than Rhys!” You were sick of it, sick of being treated like some wounded bird they needed to protect, the thought caused the anger to grow in Cassian.

“THAT'S BECAUSE I DON'T WANT ANY MALE TALKING TO YOU LIKE THAT!”

“WHY!? WHY THE FUCK DOES IT MATTER YOU!” Cassian suddenly dug his heels into the snow causing you to crash into the back of him giving you a bit of a fright. Cassian span around, releasing your wrist in exchange for your hips, your hands instinctively draping across his shoulders as he pulls you forward in the falling snow to meet your lips hungrily. The cold was leached from your bodies as you basked in the glow of one another. 

“Cass you just kissed me”

“I just kissed you” You both had shock painting your faces before locking eyes and reconnecting hungrily again. 

“If anyone touches you like that again I’ll kill them” You nodded quickly to his protective stern words, kissing him deeply again. 

“Ahem” Azriel’s voice separated you both as he stood with hands on his hips glaring at the two of you, clearly having just been out for his own run along the service lane. 

“Az-” He only raised a gloved hand to you. 

“I don’t want to know any of the goings on between you two, ever, it will make me an accessory to a murder when Rhysand finds out” You both nodded slowly in reply before Azriel dragged a hand down his face. 

“Now, the three of us are going to walk home and the three of us will never speak about this again” Azriel continued, gesturing with his arm for you to walk ahead. You looked from Cassian to the Shadowsinger who only raised an eyebrow, you sighed before following his direction and walking ahead of the two. 

“You’re a dead man Cass” Azriel whispered once you were out of earshot.

“I know” “What is with you and their family, next thing you’ll be sleeping with Rhysand’s mother” “How do you know that didn’t already happen” Cassian was fighting for his life to bring back an air of silliness to the night and Azriel happily obliged, shoving his smirking brother across the path. 

“This is different Az” he rejoined his side quickly. 

“I know, it’s always been different between you two, doesn’t mean your funeral will be any less of a sure thing” The Shadowsinger smirked.

—-----------------------

The next couple of weeks became like a full-time job for Azriel and he wasn’t sure exactly when he had interviewed for the job. He spent a large amount of his free time running interference for you and Cassian, distracting Rhysand to allow you both to steal away moments together. It was beginning to exhaust him not to mention sicken him that he spent so much time focusing on Cassian’s love life that he forgot his own. 

The four of you sat around the corner table of the very tavern that three months previously you had been pursued. Azriel sat next to Rhysand as if by chance but very much planned so that you and Cassian may sit next to each other. 

“So anyways we’ve been sleeping together for some time now but I think it’s time to cut her loose-” Rhysand beamed at the telling of his conquests while you fought the urge to roll your eyes at your brother's hypocrisy “-What about you Cass? Any lovely ladies on the go?” Rhysand innocently questioned before taking a deep drink.

“Ehh yeah I suppose you could say that” Your chin sank to your chest, attempting to bury the wide grin on your face. 

“Well go on, tell us about her” Rhysand pried, Azriel’s eyes trying to find anywhere else to look at other than the red on Cassian’s cheeks” “I don’t think-” “-Oh come on Cass, since when have you been coy about your conquests?”

“Cauldron boil me” Azriel whispered under his breath, your foot sharply meeting his shin.

“I just think I should keep that private” Cassian spoke over Azriels audible pain. “From me? I heard you tell Azriel that you never wanted to leave the bed with this mystery female, so how come I’m not privy to the information?” You took a deep swig at your brother's playful prying, wishing the ground to swallow you up.

“I just don’t think you’d want to hear about-” “-I clearly do, tell me, tell me about this so-called best sex you’ve ever had, how you make her c-” “-For all that is good and Gods given Rhysand please do not finish that sentence!” Azriel cut across quickly as you inhaled your drink, choking slightly. Cassian rapidly tapped your back as Azriel and Rhysand began to bicker. 

“Are you okay?” Cassian whispered to you, searching your greying face for colour as it flushed back to your cheeks. He took your hand softly under the table, his thumb sending soothing circles across your skin. You looked up to Cassian with your glassy eyes, a small smile growing on your face at the look of adoration you received. The two of you looked quickly then to the silence that leaked from the other side of the table. Rhysand looked between the two of you, his own face now looking like he had been the one starved of air. Azriel covered his eyes with a hand, trying to think of any way to come back from this and what was about to happen. The table fell to an almost unnerving silence as Rhysand processed in real time before an equally unnerving laugh left him. 

“Oh no no no no” he shook his head while laughing, you glancing worriedly to Cassian at your brother's seemingly newfound deliria. 

“Rhysand…” You tried but your brother just kept shaking his head while laughing. 

“Oh no no no no” His laugh only got louder, Azriel daring to look at the Son of Night from behind his hand. 

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start” Azriel whispered across the table to Cassian who looked bewildered at the reaction. Rhysand rolled up his sleeves, his laughing continuing as he took a deep drink from his tall glass. 

“Maybe 10 seconds” Azriel added, Cassian needing no further invitation to bolt away. He made it as far as the edge of the village before Rhysand came in hot from behind him, you and Azriel trailing desperately. 

“I’LL KILL YOU!” Rhysand bellowed, tackling Cassian to the ground as they rolled in the slush of the last snow of Winter. 

“Rhys stop!” You went to separate them, Azriel pulling you back to his side. 

“Just, just leave them go YNN” he sighed, knowing this was years in the making. The two warriors rolled, Rhysand attempting to deliver blows that Cassian blocked. 

“Rhys-I’m-sorry!” Cassian managed through dodges. 

“My sister!” 

“Yes! Your sister! But my love! I love her!” Cassian rasped out, Rhysand’s hand finding his brother's throat as he gained the upper hand from above him. Rhysand released an ounce of pressure he had on the Illyrian before shooting a glance at you, a clear look of horror on your face. Rhysand allowed all the air from his lungs go before standing again, Cassian attempted to stand, only to meet the floor again with a shove from the future High Lord. He stayed down, thinking that was the best port of call.

“YN, really?” “Really” You found your own confidence, striding over the Cassian to meet his side on your knees. 

“How long?” 

“Three…almost four months” You admitted to your brother, pulling bits of moss from Cassian’s hair. 

“Four months?! And no one had any idea?” Azriel averted his eyes at Rhysand’s questioning. 

“We just wanted to see if it was serious before stressing you out Rhys” Cassain ran a sleeve over his bloodied lip. 

“And this is-this is serious? You’re not just fucking around Cassian because I swear to the Gods I will-” “-This isn’t fucking around Rhys, I love her” Cassian interrupted Rhysand’s worry. He wandered in a small circle, arms behind his back as he tilted his chin to the stars once again, taking a deep breath of the changing seasonal air. 

“Okay” Rhysand finally rocked his head back down to look at the two of you. 

“Just to say Rhys, I don’t care if you are okay or not with this, I love Cassian too and I don’t care if you are okay with it-” “-YN” Cassian dragged out your name like a whining child who was trying to stop the class pet from reminding the teacher about a test. 

“But, thank you” You kissed the top of Cassian’s head, his lip stitching together from the blowout.

“Oh Gods don’t do that in front of me!” Rhysand looked to the sky, the two of you laughing up at him. 

“Oh please Rhys, that’s nothing, these two would make you sick” Azriel laughed before the smile completely fell from his face. 

“You knew?” Rhysand glared towards the Shadowsinger.

“I ehh-” “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

“I’d say you have a 15-second head start my friend” Cassian laughed up from the slush-turned mud. Azriel gave a panicked laugh before meeting Rhysand’s serious eyes. 

“He’s the one doing your sister!” “Az! Traitor” You chuckled, Rhysand still not removing his eyes from Azriel until he shot off into the woods, Rhysand hot on his heels. You helped Cassian to stand again before walking hand in hand in the direction of home, happy to have that weight off your chests and happier to hold one another's weight in your arms. 

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

[blue-jisungs]

PLAYLIST

author's note. sorry for the slight delay!!! i hopeu all enjoy it tho<3 thank u so sooo mcuh @slytherinshua for the banner (again)<3333333333

summary. jihoon is curious about you, especially your music taste and this... somehow leads to your first kiss with him

word count. 1233

genre. music major!jihoon (and also undercover artist, woozi) x psychology major!yn

jihoon felt like a fool.

a complete, love struck fool.

he didn’t know what you did to him but – how did wonwoo phrase it? he was down bad for you – he was whipped.

ever since bumping into you in the library, which was quite embarrassing by the way, he just couldn’t get his mind off you. luckily for him, he gained some courage to talk to you and exchange socials.

you were in a talking stage, getting to know each other. like, for example your name, sign, major – so on, so forth. he was completely smitten to find out that you’re a psychology student but then again, you seemed amazed when he told you he’s majoring in music.

despite all this knowledge he still yearned to know more. your music taste, favorite drink, the name of your first hamster that you had in childhood– despite how creepy it sounded, it was the effect you had on him.

naturally, you wanted to know more about him too.

hence you’re here now, in his studio.

“do you want something to drink? vodka? tequilla? i mean, other drinks are okay too. ice with water?” jihoon asked, opening his mini fridge and trying to ignore the feeling of blood rushing to his ears. he’s such an idiot. ice with water? really, jihoon?

“water is fine” you grinned, looking around the room.

you were curious about the studio, it’s where the magic happens after all. apparently he didn’t let people in… except his friends. even with them he made some exceptions – like soonyoung, who once snuck in while he was drunk and made a song about a tiger…? you remember this story, he told you it on one of your first meetings (dates?).

“it all looks so expensive” you sighed, scared to even touch anything. jihoon must have noticed it because he broke a smile.

“well… music equipment usually is quite pricey. but feel free to try something, i’ll guide you. guitar, keyboard, saxophone… even the mixing board” he hummed and handed you the glass of water.

“oh really? i always wanted to try the silly machine” you pointed at the sound mixer, recalling a video you saw on tiktok how the grey keys lit up upon touching.

“here you go, then” jihoon grinned and pulled your chair closer to it, causing you to giggle. then, he pulled another chair for him and sat down.

he turned it on and put you glass away, ebony irises looking at you with excitement.

“so do i just…?” you asked and shyly tapped one of the tiles, it making a sound and lighting up with a pink light.

jihoon watched you good around with it, creating a silly melody and being rather amused by the colors than the music itself. his heart was thumping against his chest, weirdly liking it. he was anxious that he’d feel somehow stressed and somehow angry upon seeing you touch his instruments. he always did when someone came over. but with you… why was he so carefree?

“i have no idea how you do it, that just sounded like cocomelon intro” a laugh escaped your lips and jihoon joined you. oh, he loved the sound of your laughter.

“let me play some music, wait” jihoon stood up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his sweats.

you admired him, observing his silhouette. he really fitted perfectly into this space, you could see he’s feeling himself because he’s surrounded by things he loves.

and he let you in that safe space of his.

this caused your heart to skip, trying to convince yourself it’s nothing. that he takes every girl here sooner or later, lets her play his instruments–

“everytime you look at me like that i wonder if you’re having flashbacks of your psychology textbooks, you know? and then you’re like… ‘ah yeah, he fits that description perfectly’” he giggled and you scoffed, shaking your head.

“you know, sometimes i can’t help but consider all the… small signs… but i don’t diagnose you!” you joked but saw his eyes widen. oh.

“small signs?” he asked, a bit of panic in his voice. great, now you freaked him out.

“like… you’re a workaholic but that’s no surprise, right?” you tried to ease the situation and it seemed that it worked.

“yeah, yeah” he nodded, a small smile blooming on his lips.

once again you looked around the room, eyes taking in every detail.

“wait, actually… do you want to play some music? i’m curious what you listen to” he asked and handed you the aux with a boyish smile.

“don’t judge me though… i’m already feeling kinda stupid” you laughed and scrolled through your playlist, jihoon looking over your arm.

you decided to play one of your cozy mixes on shuffle and turned around to peek at him.

“you… um, you know woozi?” jihoon asked, a tiny of nervousness in his voice.

“oh, yeah! jun recommend him to me! he’s so good, honestly. i kinda wish he had more music because i feel like i know every song by heart right now” you giggled and saw his eyes widen “what? you don’t like him?”

“wha… i… actually…” jihoon stuttered, mind racing like a wild horse galloping through the fields. why did jun tell you? no… he knew the answer to that – jun knew jihoon has a crush on you. what an asshole.

but… what to do now? how didn’t you figure out that woozi is him? should he confess? or should he thank you? or… maybe he should deny that he doesn’t know him.

“you kinda sound like him now that i think about it” you hummed, scanning his face.

“are you playing some psychological games with me right now?” jihoon asked, cracking a smile and finally sitting down next to you.

“no, why would i?” a frown appeared on your features. jihoon took it as a sign that you’re really clueless. taking a deep sigh, he pointed at one of the diplomas (or what you thought they were).

“i’m… woozi”

your mouth fell agape as you scanned the paper on the wall, secured safely in a ruby frame.

“and i’ll admit, you have a nice taste in music” he added, observing you. why was he kind of… excited by your reaction? the fact that you liked his music was another thing, making his heart go crazy.

“are you serious?” you asked in disbelief and your eyes shifted to meet his ebony ones.

“i’m in your playlist. come at me, gir” jihoon laughed and opened his arms in a cocky manner.

“so… woah. that’s crazy. i have a question though” you grinned, cocking an eyebrow at him. woozi’s mischievous spark in the eye told you to be straightforward “about who is ‘ruby’ about?”

no words were exchanged but the look he gave you was like an electric spark between you two. maybe hence the next thing he did, powered by an impulse, was standing up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked and you nodded vigorously, shame flying out of the window.

if it wasn’t said, the kiss definitely translated it into words: ‘ruby’ was about you. everything was about you, including his feelings.

his plush lips felt heavenly against yours, soft music playing in the background as his warm hands cupped your cheeks.

who knew that revealing your playlist to him would lead to your first kiss.

main masterlist | event masterlist

taglist. @mirxzii ,, @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @eternalgyuuu ,, @rubywonu ,, @haecien ,, @mine-gyu

[nhlclover]

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐒 | 𝐋𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: you convince luke to bake with you despite his ineptitude in the kitchen.

warnings: sweet fluff! mentions of food + baking, also a joke about a diet

word count: 0.96k

notes: fic number two in cozytober! love my sweet boy luke, so i hope you guys enjoy this as well

The kitchen was filled with the warm scent of spices, cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves all blending together as you gathered the ingredients for your latest baking project: chai pumpkin spice cupcakes. The golden afternoon light streamed through the window, casting a cozy glow over the countertops. Luke stood beside you, his brow furrowed as he eyed the stand mixer with a wary expression.

“Alright, babe, this is gonna be easy,” you said, splitting the ingredients into the wet and dry. “You’ll be handling the wet stuff—eggs, milk, oil. I’ll take care of the dry ingredients.”

Luke let out a small laugh, running a hand through his hair in that endearing, slightly self-conscious way you loved. “I still don’t know why you trust me near anything that requires precise measurements.”

You laughed. “Because everyone can learn, and besides, you’ve got me here to make sure nothing catches on fire.”

You handed him the recipe card, nudging him towards the eggs. Luke cracked an egg into a bowl, watching it slide down with a satisfying plop. But as he went for the second, you saw his eyes widen in panic. “Uh, I think I got some shell in there.”

Sure enough, tiny shards floated in the mixture. Luke fumbled to fish them out, his fingers hovering over the bowl with intense concentration. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him so focused.

“You’ve got this,” you encouraged, watching as he managed to extract the last piece. He breathed out in relief, grinning at his victory.

“Crisis averted,” he said, clearly pleased with himself.

“Good job, babe,” you said, giving him a playful nudge. “Now just measure the milk and oil, and we’re good to go.”

Luke nodded, his expression serious as he measured with the precision of someone about to perform surgery. Meanwhile, you whisked together the dry ingredients — flour, sugar, baking powder, and spices. The excitement bubbled inside you as you worked; there was something magical about baking in the fall, and sharing it with Luke, even with his shaky kitchen skills, made it even better.

Once Luke had his wet ingredients ready, he looked over at you, a proud gleam in his eye. “What’s next?”

“Just pour the wet stuff into the stand mixer and then add the dry ingredients,” you said, moving to line the cupcake tins. “Oh, and make sure to turn the mixer off before—”

Before you could finish, Luke, with a little too much enthusiasm, dumped the dry ingredients into the running mixer. A cloud of flour, cinnamon, and nutmeg exploded into the air, enveloping everything like a powdery storm. You gasped as the flour coated the countertops, the floor — and, of course, Luke.

Luke scrambled to shut off the mixer, the cloud of flour settling around him. Luke slowly turned to you, his face a comical mix of shock and regret. “Fuck…”

For a split second, you stood there in stunned silence, and then a laugh bubbled up, uncontrollable. Luke’s startled face, combined with the mess, was just too much. He started to laugh too, shaking his head as he wiped flour off his nose.

“Babe, I’m so sorry. I-I’m hopeless,” he groaned, though his grin betrayed him. “You should just take over before I somehow set off the smoke alarm.”

“No way,” you said, still giggling as you grabbed a spatula. “We’ll scoop up what we can, and it’ll be fine. Besides, you’re not getting out of this that easily.” Luke sighed dramatically, but the playful spark in his eyes told you he wasn’t really defeated. Together, you salvaged what you could from the countertop, adding the flour back to the mixer with no further disasters.

“See? Easy fix,” you said, brushing off your hands.

“Easy for you,” he mumbled, though there was something soft in his expression—an unspoken warmth that made your heart skip. Moments like this, the small messes and shared laughs, were what you loved most.

You handed Luke the cupcake tin, insisting that he scoop the batter into the liners. “This part is foolproof,” you said, “Just fill each one halfway.”

Luke took the task with the utmost seriousness, carefully spooning batter into each tin. To his credit, not a drop was wasted, and soon the cupcakes were in the oven, the kitchen returning to a peaceful calm as the scent of spiced cake filled the air. When the timer dinged, you both glanced into the over, and Luke grinned as the perfect golden cupcakes came into view.

"Not bad, huh?" you said, proud of the teamwork.

Luke nodded, partially surprised that something he had made turned out so good. “They look amazing.”

With the cupcakes cooling, you worked on the icing — cream cheese, butter, powdered sugar, and more spices, blending together in a sweet, velvety mixture. Together, you spread the spiced cream cheese frosting over each cupcake, the final touch to your masterpiece. Once the cupcakes were frosted, you both sat down to taste your handiwork.

You took a bite, closing your eyes as the flavors hit. “Oh wow,” you mumbled, “These are so good.”

Luke took a bite, and for a moment, you saw his eyes light up, the deliciousness taking him by surprise. But then he frowned, feigning seriousness. “Oh man, these are so sweet…I think just destroyed my diet with one bite.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Please, like one cupcake is going to ruin you.”

He grinned, licking some frosting off his thumb. “Yeah, but I blame you if I can't skate as fast tomorrow.”

You reached over, brushing a bit of flour from his cheek. “Well, if cupcakes are your downfall, I’ll gladly take the blame.”

Luke laughed, his hand finding yours by your side. “As long as you're there to bake more.”

[radiostaticlive]

Tim did not wake up in his bed. No, he woke up a dirty alley in the heart of Crime Alley.

Tim, hand pressed over his ear: Oracle, can you fill me in.

Silence. Not even static.

Tim looks down for the first time and notices he’s not in consume. He’s not Red Robin, but Tim Drake. And pointy does not have any of his equipment on him.

What the heck. He was pretty sure he was fighting the Penguin earlier. Had that bird knocked him out and strip him?

No. No, he’s in the same clothes he put on the morning before. The same clothes that he wore to that stupid W.E meeting.

Tim, muttering to himself as he slowly leaves the alley: Ok. Ok calm down Tim. You can figure this out.

He pats himself down, looking for his phone to call the cave. He finds it, noticeably cracked but still functional.

No signal.

Tim: Just my luck. Looks like I have to walk home.

When Tim gets to the entrance of the cave he finds it sealed shut. Like glued to the seems with concrete shut.

Ok. That’s ok. Tim’s siblings prank him all the time. This is nothing new. Just incredibly inconvenient.

Takes him an additional 20 minutes but he’s finally in the cave, thanks to one of the multiple entrances. Thank god for Bruce and his paranoia.

“As you can see here. Batman had a tool for pretty much anything and everything. “

Tim froze at the unknown voice in the cave. Sticking to the shadows he crept forward to peer inside without being seen.

The cave looked sterile. Velvet rope blocked off the Bat computer, and off to the side a table was out displaying case files and Bat-a-rings.

What the.

“And if you look over here, you can see what our hero’s wore to protect our great city.” The same voice drew Tim’s attention to the group of people in the middle of the room.

They looked like tourists. Cameras out, faces a mixer of intrigued excitement or boredom. They were fallowing a lady, presumably the tour guide, to there Jason’s memorial was.

Tim was quick to sneak into the back of the group and act like he was just another bored teenager. He had to figure out what was going on and if that meant touring his own house, so be it.

Tour guide: And here we are. The Robins. the boy, or girl, Wonders. Now there were a total of 5 robins, but Stephane Brown only hold the mantle for a short time. In order the Robins were first, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, and Damian Wayne.

This isn’t good. First some lady was giving a tour of the Batcave of all places and now she knows their names. And she just told about 20 people and god who knows how many more.

She knows.

She told.

Everyone knows.

Fuck.

Ok, maybe the bats went into hiding? That had to be what happened. But then why would they leave Tim? Did they think he was dead?

The tour went on. The guide went on and on about things that didn’t really matter or were completely inaccurate. Tim was trying not to freak out the longer it went on.

Finally the group went to the elevator, except the small 2 passenger elevator was replaced with one of those big ones that could hold a large group of people.

The manor proper was very much in the same state as the cave. Things were roped off while other items were displayed. It made his head hurt.

Tapping the shoulder of the guy next to him.

Tim: Hey, do you remember what the name of this place is?

Guy: Uh, yeah kid. Kinda hard with the cheesy name.

Tim: Which is? Sorry bad memory.

Guy: The Bat- Museum. Seriously kid. I know that this stuff is boring but you gotta learn your history. The Bats were good people.

Tim, trying not to show the panic at the perfect that he’s been hearing all day.

Tim: Yeah you’re right.

Thankfully the cave seemed to be the end of the tour as the guide lead them to the main foyer.

Tim in all his panic glory, ran out the doors the minute people were leaving.

Muttering a desperate plead to any god in the universe.

Tim: Please don’t be right. Please don’t be right. Please don’t be dead.

With all the stealth his shaking form could do, Tim makes his was around the Manor to the secluded privet cemetery.

Tim’s heart dropped in his chest. Even at a distance he could make out several graves in the once nearly empty lot.

Not bothering with the gate, Tim climbed and hosted himself over landing hard on the ground.

But he

Did

Not

Care.

Tears unwilling fell from his eyes as he read the names on the new graves.

His family’s names.

On sleek marble.

Dead.

Even Alfred had his own stone. Right next to Bruce, like he always did. Like he forever will do now.

Tim stared blankly at his own grave that was in the middle of Steph’s and Jason’s. The one he crawled out of. But not this time.

In loving memory of Timmothy Drake- Wayne

Beloved son, friend and hero.

“Reach for the stars chum.” - Bruce Wayne, adopted father

Tim fell to his knees, tears streaming down his face.

He failed.

He failed them.

Again.

He couldn’t protect his family a second time. What a worthless “hero” he was. He couldn’t even die right!

White light surrounded Tim’s crying form.

Phantom stood, tears still falling down his face.

With one last look at the graves around him, he flew up and away from Gotham.

Away from the city he failed.

Just like Amity.

[intoanotherworld23]

Take My Heart

Summary: Working as a waitress in one of the most popular night clubs in the city seemed like a breeze. Then you’re asked to work the infamous dark rooms where you meet the owners, and you catch the eye of one of them, Joel Miller, whose one of the most feared men and rules the city

Pairings: Reader x Joel Miller

Warnings: cursing, mention of sex, mention of sex toys, drinking, and mention of drugs

A/N: If anyone wishes to create a banner for me for this series I would greatly appreciate it, and of course you will be given full credit for it! Message me if you are able to do so! Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️〰️

"Your late." The bartender Eric nagged as soon as you walked over to the register to clock in for the night. "Again."

"Yeah yeah I know." Waving him off as he laughed at you.

"How do you manage to be late all the time when you live just down the block?" Raising an eyebrow at you.

"You think this makes a lot of tips looking like one of the undead?" Motioning your pointer finger around your face.

"I don't think the guys are really looking at your face babe."

"Well this helps too." Pushing your boobs up for emphasis.

"How you are still single is baffling to me." His words holding more meaning than what you realized.

Dressing provocatively was a part of the job. Hiring pretty girls showing off their bodies to a bunch of drunk and horny men was how the club stayed so successful. Granted a lot of clubs were like that, but there was something about this club that was different. Something this club offered to their guests that kept them flocking in.

It was called the dark rooms. Watching as different girls were pulled into one of the rooms men leaving with satisfied looks on their faces. All you were told was that their VIP's hung out there, but you had a very good idea as to what happened behind those black curtains.

Throwing your purse behind the bar where you usually kept it knowing it would be well looked after. Not that you had much money or anything for anyone to steal. None the less it still was money to you.

The club was incredibly packed tonight, and you knew the tips were going to be amazing. It wasn't just exactly an ideal job, but being a bottle service girl was about as good as you were going to get. You didn't have any family or friends so you didn't have anyone to turn to.

"You don't think she'll be pissed do you?" Now actually starting to worry this time she wouldn't be nice.

"Nah I think you'll be fine."

"God I hope so my rent is due this week so I need the money."

Even though you didn't have the best apartment it was better than nothing, and unfortunately it was also an expensive one. It was better than nothing at this point.

"You're lucky she likes you."

"Ya know when you're perfect." Sending a cocky wink over to him as he shook the mixer over his shoulder.

"Oh yeah what would we do without you." He sarcastically spoke.

"Oh shut the fuck up Eric you wish you were like me." Flipping your hair back over your shoulder with a grin.

"Get to work before you actually get in trouble this time." Throwing a dirty rag at you causing you to burst into laughter.

Walking by the crowded tables as you headed into your bosses office to let her know you were finally here. Hoping that this time she wouldn't be actually mad at you since you really needed the money.

"Beth." Knocking lightly on the cracked door to see her sitting there typing away on the computer. "Hiya."

"Don't even try it." Looking up from the computer with a straight face.

Bowing your head as you awkwardly stood there with your hands behind your back. It was like your parent had just caught you doing something you shouldn't have, and you didn't know what was about to happen.

"I'm sorry."

"Of all nights you had to be late again." Standing up from her chair walking over to you.

"I'm sorry I took longer than what I thought." Apologizing again more sincere this time.

"You know how important tonight is for me."

"What's happening tonight?" Scrunching your brows.

"The owners are coming here." Answering bewildered that you didn't know. "So everything has to be perfect."

That explains her behavior the past couple of weeks, and why she had been frantically running around the club stressing over small things that she never did before.

"The owners?"

"Yes the owners. The ones who own this fucking club." Running a hand through her hair frantically. "The Miller Brothers. Tommy and Joel Miller."

"Never heard of em."

"They're powerful men in this city. Nobody fucks with them." It sounded more like a warning to you.

"They don't sound that scary to me." Crossing your arms across your chest.

"God you're so lucky you're pretty." She scoffed as she walked back over to her desk.

As she sat back down you took that as he way of dismissing you. Turning back to the door about to head out when her words stopped you in your tracks.

"Oh you'll be working the dark rooms tonight. One of the girls called in sick so I need you to cover for her."

"What?" Eyes wide open now. "But I've never worked the dark rooms before. I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to do." She reassured you as you took a sigh of relief. "Just know that men pay very good money to have a pretty thing to wrap their arm around."

You knew exactly what kinds of sinful acts took place in the dark rooms, and the thought of some sleazy businessman paying you for sexual favors made your skin crawl. That wasn't the kind of thing you did or would put yourself through.

"What if they force me?"

"That's why we have security and cameras to make sure the girls stay safe."

"Why can't you ask one of the other girls?" Asking her in hopes she might ask someone else.

"Because they aren't as attractive as you."

"What if I don't want to work the dark rooms?"

"Then you better start looking for another job." Her tone serious and her eyes scowling at you that she wasn't playing around.

The two of you staring at each other as you contemplated whether this job was worth it or not. You could use some extra cash, but the thought of one of those men touching you against your will made your stomach churn. She did tell you that you didn't have to do anything you didn't want to, but then you'd be missing out on a lot of money.

It was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Having an angel on one shoulder, and the devil on the other. This would just be a one time thing though. So maybe it wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

"Okay I'll do it." She smiled upon hearing that.

"Good. Go find Kara and she'll give you the rundown of everything."

Not saying anything else you simply nodded and took your leave. Your heart was racing and your palm was sweating already feeling nervous about what could happen tonight. Things could go smoothly or they could be a nightmare. Either way you just wanted this night to be over.

Looking around the club for Kara. Trying to spot her wild curly red hair through the sea of people. Finally spotting her talking to a group of men at a table. Flashing her pretty smile and placing a hand on their arms clearly trying to get a bigger tip.

Kara had been here longer than anyone else, and knew how to work her charm on the customers. She had also worked the dark room more than anyone else either. So you knew that she was making good money.

You'd exchanged conversation with her from time to time, but never really got close with her. She was friendly enough, but you knew she wasn't in this job to make friends, but make a shit load of money.

"Hey Kara." Shouting her name as she turned around to see who called her name. "I'm working the dark rooms tonight and Beth said you'd help me."

"Perfect follow me." Showing off her whitened teeth as she headed up the stairs you following right behind her.

"So you're working the dark rooms tonight huh?" She sounded almost amused when she asked.

"Yeah I guess so."

"Do you even know what happens in the dark rooms?" Stopping at the top to face you.

"I have a pretty good idea what happens." Your response making her grin.

She could tell just by looking at you that you were like a scared little bunny. Just the thought of going into one of these rooms petrified you. Let alone a man requesting you to stay in the rooms.

"There are different kind of rooms." Stating as you now stood in the hallway noticing some had curtains for doors. "Some rooms have dance poles. Some rooms just have large couches for relaxing, and some rooms have toys in them."

"Toys?"

"Yeah ya know sex toys and all that." Jesus Christ this place was much darker than what you thought.

"Then there's the VIP room." Standing in front of a deep and dark red double door. "Only the owners can access this room. They have it locked at all times, and they each have a key."

"What kind of men are these guys?" Asking her but not really asking her.

"The kind of men women want to be with and the type that men are scared of."

"Have you ever met them?"

"Yeah I did once." Reminiscing about the time they came in and you could practically see the drool coming out of her mouth. "Joel doesn't ever request any of the girls."

"Why not?"

"It's not really his thing." The two of you heading back down to the stairs. "Besides that man never has had to pay for sex."

"Right."

"So what exactly all do I need to do?" Asking her as you started to walk back down the hall.

"All you gotta do is smile and look pretty." That didn't sound too hard to do. "Bigger tips if you sit on their lap and let them touch you by the way."

Never mind.

You didn't know whether to take her words as a warning or not. The way she said it made it sound like that man always gets what he wants no matter what. The thought of meeting this man had your stomach churning.

Staring at yourself in the mirror trying to compose yourself as time was getting closer. Taking a shot of tequila to calm your nerves just a little bit. For all you know these could be incredible dangerous men, and your about to walk right into the lions den.

Maybe they wouldn't take a second look at you and leave you all alone. That was wishful thinking though considering these men were powerful and some of them were owners. It would be in your best interest to not say no to these men.

"Y/N let's go, there here."

Your stomach was doing somersaults now. Palms were starting to sweat, and your heart was beating so fast you could hear it in your ears. There wasn't any chance you'd be able to slip out of there. You were just gonna have to suck it up, and get the night over with.

Maybe it would be a piece of cake, and the night would be over before you know it.

"Here bring them this bottle." Eric handing you a tray that had shot glasses and a bottle of very expensive tequila as you walked past the bar.

"I didn't even know we had this here." Examining the chic looking bottle like you were holding diamonds.

"Nobody else can order that except them." Pouring liquor into a martini glass. "You better get moving they don't like to be kept waiting."

"Which room are they in?"

"First room on your left." Nodding as he gave you an encouraging smile.

Trying your best to not trip or drop the glass as you cautiously walked up the stairs to the rooms. Not knowing exactly how many men were going to be in this room.

As you approached the room you could already hear deep voices talking. Sounding like there were multiple men in there. Noticing there was four shot glasses which suggested to you that there was four men. Which wasn't too bad you've dealt with almost triple the amount of men before.

"There she is." A voice boomed as soon as you stood in the doorway.

"Where's the other girl?" Not knowing who said that as your eyes were focused on the ground.

"She called in today so Beth has me working." Answering quickly your voice quivering.

"Remind me to thank Beth." The same unknown person said making your cheeks heat up at the compliment.

Finally looking up to look at them as the red and blue lights illuminating their bodies as they sat around a table. All of them were wearing very nice suits, and their hair was styled back. They were all very good looking men, but there was one who immediately caught your eye.

He was incredibly handsome in almost a he didn't seem real. Like he was hand crafted by the gods himself, and he wasn't actually a human being. He was too perfect for words. Trying not to drool being in the same room as him.

His honey brown eyes had been staring at you since you walked in the room. Following you as you placed the glasses in front of them, and pouring them each a shot. Trying your best not to shake under his intense gaze.

The other three continued to talk as if they couldn't care less about you being in here. Which oddly made you feel relieved that they weren't trying to harass you or anything like that.

"Cheers to a good night boys." One of them toasted as they downed the first shot.

"Hell of a day." A man with tattoos on his neck continued.

"I can still see the look on their faces as we fooled them." The one that toasted said. "We totally had them by the balls they were so scared."

"Fucking idiots." The attractive one chuckled.

"Did they really just think we were going to just take the money, and not keep the g-." His voice cut off by an elbow being jabbed into his side.

"Shut the fuck up Don."

Okay that was a little weird. Obviously didn't want you to hear whatever he was about to say. Not that you would have really remembered anyway, since your mind was just focusing on getting the night over with.

Now you were feeling awkward not knowing if you had to stay in here. It wasn't clarified if you could come and go as you pleased. Not wanting to upset anyone by leaving, and they needed something. Two of these men were the owners you just didn't know who.

"Now for even more fun." Watching as the one who had tattoos on his neck pull out a bag with white stuff in it.

"Jesus fuck Andrew." The super attractive one groaned angrily.

"What?" Shrugging his shoulders as he continued to dump some on the table, pulling out a razor blade messing with the powder.

"What did I say about doing that here?" His voice stern in a warning tone.

"I mean you've said it but that doesn't mean I'm gonna listen." Cutting up some lines ignoring Joel's warning.

"I said not here." Raising his voice slightly.

"This is your club Joel." Ah so he was one of the owners. "Are you telling me I can't do this here? Or do you just not want the lady to see?"

Suddenly all four pair of eyes turned to your figure hiding in the corner. It felt as if now you were under some type of spot light. This was exactly what you were hoping to avoid, and now you were the topic.

"Andy knock it off." The fourth man spoke up. Noticing he had curly hair, and looked like he could be related to Joel. Maybe he was the brother.

"She doesn't need to see that shit." It was surprising that he was almost trying to shield you from the drugs.

"Like you don't snort this every other day Joel." He argued sarcastically back, and you could see Joel seething. "Or you either Tommy."

"I said not here." He didn't back down a vein popping out of his neck. "That's my final warning."

You could tell there was so much tension between the two of them. It was clear Joel was the man in charge, and this Andy guy was a trouble maker. The other two guys looked like they wanted to stay out of it.

Maybe Joel didn't want you seeing this cause you are new. Or maybe in a sense he was trying to impress you. It was probably because he didn't want you telling the cops on them or anything like that.

"What's your name sweetheart?" Andy smirking over at you ignoring Joel now.

Looking between the two men wondering if you should answer or just stay silent. Joel nodding his head signaling it was okay. Not sure why you were looking to him for approval anyway.

"Y/N." Sheepishly responding back to him.

"That's such a sexy name." Andrew smiled but his words just made you cringe.

"Thank you." Responding not wanting to make him angry.

That's when Andrew leaned forward more towards you giving Joel an evil look before turning his attention back to you. You could feel like things were just going to get worse.

"How would you feel about giving me a lap dance?"

Soon as the question left his lips Joel didn't hesitate to stand up, and stomp over to him ready to fight. The other two men standing up as well ready to hold him back from killing the man. Backing yourself up against the wall scared of what was about to happen.

Joel standing face to face with the man who just stood there smirking like he was winning. He acted like he wasn't terrified, but on the inside he was shitting his pants.

"What the fuck did you just say to her?"

[crazyk-imagine]

Things I Hate... Oh, and Oranges

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Plus size!reader

Characters: Rafe Cameron, Plus size!reader, Topper Thornton, Kelce, Sarah, mentions of the pogues

Warnings: Biggest warning ever, yall ain't ready, their characters aren't as bad here, fluff, rafe being a simp, rafe totally in love with reader, topper and kelce are butt heads in a friend way, not the obx way, Sarah and reader are casual besties, like they did a group project, vibed and have been friends ever since

Word Count: 773

Based on this post

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

Sarah told you to come by around this time because no one would be home, and you needed somewhere quiet to study.

She forgot to mention she'd be out with John B.

You don’t mind though; it makes things a little easier since she won’t be around to distract you with her gossip.

-

Rafe walks in and stops as soon as he passes the entrance to the kitchen, wondering if what he just saw was real or not.

He takes a step back and stays in the shadows, watching you.

He brushes a hand through his hair, wondering if he looks okay or if he needs to change his shirt. He looks down and frowns, the blood stain from Barry is visible.

He runs upstairs to change his shirt, wincing at the tingling in his hand. He groans under his breath, “serves him right.”

He doesn’t regret punching his dealer, Barry knows better than to provoke him.

-

You wander around the kitchen, searching for a few items.

You stir up the better by hand, rather than trying to figure out how Sarah’s mixer works. You swear she only bought it so only she could use it and no one else.

A knock on the doorway alarms you causing you to almost spill the contents in the bowl. “Holy- you scared me.”

He chuckles, “sorry, I was- I didn’t mean to.”

You huff and smile, “it’s fine, a little jump start in the heart never hurt anyone.”

He chuckles, “what’re you making?” He takes a seat on the other side of the counter.

“My special bread.”

“I didn’t take you for a stoner.”

Your jaw drops, “I am not.”

He chuckles, “okay, Cheech.”

You shake your head and place it into the cute little bread pan you bought her. “Now we wait.”

His eyes follow you as you sit back down at your little study corner. “What’re doing?”

“Studying, what are you doing?”

“Watching you.”

You roll your eyes, “wouldn’t you rather be out, talking to some cute girl?”

“I already am.”

“Smooth, too smooth on your part, Rafe.” You glance up from your textbook, “did you practice that one in the mirror?”

“I’d rather practice on you.”

“I hate how good you are at this.”

The corner of his lip tugs upward, “I know.”

The ding of timer alerts you.

“Yay,” you cheer while running towards the oven to take it out and take a whiff of the goodness it’s giving off.

“Do you want to try some Rafe?” You ask, cutting into the hot loaf.

“You actually want to share with me?”

“Don’t be like that, Rafe. I’m being nice here and this is how you pay it back.”

He chuckles, “no, give me a slice.”

“Manners.”

He pouts, grabbing a plate and holding it out in front of him. “Please, can I have a slice?”

“Yes, you can, you dramatic little dork.”

“Nothing about me is little.”

You play off the heat in your cheeks as the air emanates off the bread. “Sure, sure.”

-

Kelce and Topper walk in, searching for the sweet scent wafting through the house.

“Yo Rafe,” Kelce calls out. 

“In the kitchen.”

“You all speak so kindly to each other,” you tell him.

“Always, baby.”

“What smells so good?” Topper asks, stepping closer to you.

“Did you get a new perfume or something?”

You shake your head, “nope, just made my infamous bread.”

Their eyes practically widen at the sight. “We can’t wait.”

Kelce turns to Rafe and furrows his brow, “I thought you didn’t like orange?”

You turn towards him, seeing as he shoves the last piece of bread into his mouth. “You don’t like orange?”

He tries to argue and tell you he does but can’t as the other two take over.

“Yeah, he’s never been a fan of orange since he was a kid and his dad-” Topper smacks Kelce’s chest, causing the man to wheeze.

“I’m gonna kill you,” Rafe tells them as he takes a sip of water.

You grab his wrist and stop him. “Be honest, Rafe.”

He spins around and stares at you. “When am I not?”

You stare at him with a deadpan expression.

“Okay, I’ll be honest.”

“Do you or do you not like the loaf of bread I made?”

“It’s delicious. You know I think I could even eat it by myself.”

“You’re not lying.”

He shakes his head, “when have I ever lied to you?”

You shrug, “fair enough.”

[countessvalentines]

Best Bourbon I've Ever Tasted

pairing: cooper howard/f!reader

word count: 2.8K

warnings: 18+ Only, Minors Do Not Read!! sexual tension, smut, alcohol, swearing, oral sex,

summary: you meet cooper howard at a networking mixer hosted by vault tec. Neither one of you enjoy the scene so you sneak away to make your own.

notes: you voted on the premise, now here it is! If y'all like it and want more, let me know! :)

dividers by @saradika

gif by @doortotomorrow

Despite not wanting to be at a corporate party, you have to admit the venue is impressive. This mansion has picturesque lighting, perfectly placed trees and shrubs, a pool that looks like an ancient Greek bath and an ornate firepit. You'd seen a few nice houses in L.A at this point, but nothing this lavish as this place in the Hollywood Hills. 

This is what they call a "networking mixer," really just an excuse for people in the industry to show off and feel important. As the new face of Abraxo cleaner, your agent insisted you go. Vault-Tec was hosting and they hadn't picked a cleaning agent partner company yet and Abraxo was hoping your winning smile and personality would win them over like you had America. 

You make your way around, smiling and nodding at various suits. You definitely aren't loosened up enough for the "networking" part, and would much rather not do it at all if you can avoid it. You find a relatively quiet spot by the pool to collect your thoughts, and to consume a bit of liquid courage. You see a nearby pop-up bar set up and order yourself a gin martini... You need something strong for this. As you wait for your drink, you look around the party, seeing if any familiar faces are in the crowd. There's a few representatives from Abraxo you've met a few times, some familiar Nuka Cola faces that are at what seems like every function in L.A., and some Vault-Tec suits that keep trying to sell people on their "Hollywood" vault. 

You hear the bartender call out a gin martini, and you turn to grab it. As you reach for your cocktail, your hand comes into contact with another... 

"Oh, I'm sorry." A familiar voice says as you brush hands with them. When you look up, your eyes widen as you realize who's hand you're touching. It's Cooper Howard. 

He quickly takes his hand away and offers you the drink. 

"Ordered the same thing." he explains the mishap. 

Cooper Fucking Howard ordered your drink. You didn't expect to see him at this event - of course you knew he'd been the spokesperson for Vault-Tec, but word on the street was that he was trying to distance himself since the divorce. Maybe representing the company that employs your soon-to-be-ex wife was too uncomfortable. Who could blame him? 

As you're silent and lost in thought, he looks up at you. "Well, uh, please. You take this one." He insists. As you take the drink from him, you find your words. 

 "Th-thank you." Graciously you nod and accept. 

Quickly, the bartender brings up another gin martini and places it on the countertop Cooper tips him for both of your drinks and with thanks, he holds up his glass to you.

"To coincidence." He says in a toast. 

"To coincidence." You reply as you clink glasses together.

"You're the new Abraxo girl, right?" He asks, walking from the crowded bar and lighting a cigarette. 

He offers one to you, and you accept, so he leans his lighter into the cigarette now between your lips. You're shocked he recognizes you, but you're flattered.

"Yeah, that's me." You put on your best commercial voice. "If you've got a clog that's full of muck, trust Abraxo to get it unstuck!" 

You both chuckle at the bit and Cooper holds his hand out for you. 

"Cooper Howard." He introduces himself to you as if everyone in this place doesn't know who he is. 

You nod in acknowledgement and take his hand, introducing yourself in the process. 

"If you don't mind me sayin" Cooper says while taking a drag of his cigarette and a sip of his martini. "You seem a bit too good for..." He gestures at everything around you. "...this." 

Inquisitively, you tilt your head and take your own sip of the cocktail you're holding. 

"How's that?" You ask curiously. 

"Well, you should be makin pictures, pretty face like that? Wasted on commercials if ya ask me." 

The comment takes you by surprise, did Cooper Howard just compliment you? Did he just call you pretty? In your stunned state, you remain silent as he looks at you apologetically. 

"Forgive me if I crossed a line..." He says while putting the cigarette in his mouth and his now free hand on his chest.

"No, no." You interrupt. "It's just that I... I didn't expect that. Thank you." Finally acknoweldging his compliment. 

He looks relieved and smirks sideways. He seems to appreciate your humility. 

"Whys that, now?" He asks, sipping the martini while maintaining eye contact with you. 

"Well, To be honest I've heard quite the opposite from casting directors." You explain, looking down, somewhat embarrassed at the explanation. 

"Wanna know a Hollywood secret?" He asks, leaning in and taking a step closer to you.

When you nod, he leans even closer to your ear and says in a low but audible voice, "Casting directors don't know shit." 

You can't help but get goosebumps from the baritone in his voice, and a giggle spills out of you. 

He smiles in response and continues... 

"I started as a stunt man, ya know." He says while finishing the last of his cigarette and putting it out on a nearby planter. 

"Director asked me to stand in for a second, read a couple lines." He polishes off the martini. "He liked how I read, next thing I know, I'm replacing the guy the casting director hired." 

That's something you didn't know and wonder how many other people do... then it dawns on you. 

"I bet half the people here are casting directors." You point out. 

"Well, if someone complains I hope they kick me out." Cooper teases. 

"Not having a good time, Mr. Howard?" 

You ask, half already knowing the answer.

"Please, call me Cooper." He requests in a pleading tone. "And, if I'm honest, this isn't exactly my idea of a good time." He confesses. 

That, you can understand. 

"My agent thought it would be good to 'keep up appearances'. Not many people are looking to hire an old cowboy anymore." He seems saddened, almost defeated and you can't help but feel for him. 

You've heard all the rumors, you know about his divorce and the lack of work. You've respected him as an actor and been a fan since as far back as you can remember. Seeing such a talented and seemingly genuinely kind man in this town is a rarity, especially among actors. It's such a damn shame. 

"Casting directors don't know shit, right?" You remind him of his own words while trying to catch his eyesight with your own again. 

He smiles sincerely at you, eyes bright and shining. "That's damn right." 

There's a pause between you, full of a tension you can't quite place. In the silence, you finish your drink and place it on a nearby server's tray. Once you turn your attention to Cooper again, he breaks the tension.

"Can I get you another drink?" He asks politely, pointing behind you to the bar. 

You're about to answer yes, when an idea comes to you. Neither one of you want to be here... maybe an appearance was enough to appease both your agents. 

"How about I get you a bourbon?" You suggest, a hint of mischievousness in your voice. 

Cooper cocks his head a bit, looking at the nearby bar. "They don't have good bourbon, I asked." 

"Ah, well, I guess we'll have to get bourbon somewhere else, won't we?" You ask playfully, the liquor in the martini taking effect and giving you a sudden confidence. 

"I spose you're right..." He trails off, trying to deduce your plan. 

"Follow me, try not to make it obvious." You say in a quiet voice as you lean close enough for him to hear. 

You begin to walk towards the back gate of the backyard that leads into the rest of the Hollywood Hills. You turn your head over your shoulder to see if he's following, and by some miracle, he is. 

You smile to yourself as you find a trail behind the mansion, leading up to the Hollywood sign... Perfect. 

Carefully you remove your heels and start walking up the trail, your stockings instantly dirty from the dusty walk. The two of you make light conversation on the fifteen minute hike, both of you more winded than you'd like to be. 

Once you get just underneath the middle of the Hollywood sign, you stop to catch your breath and announce, 

"We're here." 

Cooper looks around, arms outstretched. "Is there a bar in the side of the mountain I don't know about?" He jests. 

You exhale a laugh and lead him to a darkened corner of the trail. It's so dark you can't see a thing, but you know your way. Cooper takes out his lighter to illuminate the path a bit and he sees a small cave mouth.

"What is this?" He asks awe stricken. 

"I'll show you, cmon." You reply while gesturing for him to follow. 

Once inside, a small hot spring is revealed, a few small boulders and shrubs around and some green grass and moss the closer it gets to the water. It's like a small private oasis... 

As Cooper looks around in astonishment, you dig through a nearby bush and pull out a quarter empty bottle of bourbon. You slosh the bottle around to get his attention, and it works. 

"As promised" You say, offering him the bottle. "Sorry, no glasses here. Think you can share?" You ask with a smirk. 

"I guess I have to." He playfully remarks back. He takes an impressive swig and hisses as the alcohol goes down his throat. As it settles, Cooper hands the bottle back to you and you take an equally substantial sip. 

His curiosity gets the best of him and he has to ask, "Does anyone else know about this place?"

"No, actually." You explain while sitting on the edge of the hot spring and removing your soiled stockings.  "It's off limits during the day and it's damn near hidden at night. I found it getting lost one night, but that was when I first moved here years ago." You explain. "Far as I know, no one else has found it or used it. At least, my bourbons still here every time." You say shaking the bottle of bourbon and offering it back to him. 

He comes closer to you to accept the drink and you dip your feet and calves in the warm water. You let out a satisfied sigh as you can feel your muscles relax. The mixture of the strong liquor and the warm pool is sensationally soothing, and you feel your mind relaxed along with your body. 

Something about Cooper makes you feel like you've known him for longer than an hour, and you feel less intimidated by him than you thought you would. 

Cooper follows and sits next to you, taking off his black cowboy boots and placing his feet in the water, his pants getting slightly wet. 

"Ah, damn. That's nice after that hike." He says, taking another generous drink from the bottle. 

"I hope it was worth it." You say, placing your hands next to you and leaning back on them slightly. 

"Of course it is." Cooper replies. "Free bourbon, a natural jacuzzi and a beautiful woman for company? You bet it's worth it." He flashes that trademark winning smile in your direction and you can feel your heart beat a little faster. 

"You flatter me." You reply as you look away, cheeks turning pink. 

"I don't do that sweetheart. I ain't just blowin smoke." He says in his smokey voice as he puts a hand over yours on the earthy floor. 

It's then you know he definitely is hitting on you, and you can't help but give in. One of the world's most famous cowboys thinks you're beautiful and good company... What better compliment could there be? The tension you felt before feels more palpable than ever now. 

In your alcohol induced confident state, you lean towards him slowly, pursing your lips slightly and inviting him to close the distance between you. Cooper obliges and captures your lips with his, tentatively at first, but when you kiss hungrily back, he responds in earnest. 

He dips his head to deepen the kiss, parting his lips and inviting your tongue to dance with his. His hand reaches up to cup your face as he scoots closer to you, kissing passionately. As your tongues dance together, you move your hand to his chest and gradually scratch your nails down to his stomach. With less support, you instinctively lean back and Cooper takes this as an invitation...Not that it isn't. 

His body presses against yours, pushing you gently to the ground. As you move, you continue kissing, each kiss growing more and more desperate. Your hands move across his stomach, tugging at his shirt and yearning for more intimacy. 

With the wordless suggestion, he breaks the kiss to remove his shirt tossing it to the side before leaning down to kiss you again. You smile against his lips as he moves his kisses from your lips to your neck, moaning softly as he does. One of his hands roams to feel your hip, gradually sliding down your form fitting dress and feeling your thigh. You lick your lips in anticipation of his next move and you exhale a soft whimper.

Your lust has built significantly since his hand touched yours and you feel your arousal intensifying. He lifts your dress and slides his hands underneath it, caressing the soft skin of your inner thighs. His lips kiss up your neck to your jawline to your ear, before he asks in a husky whisper, "This okay, darlin?" 

Eagerly you nod before kissing him again, your tongue parting his lips needingly. Cooper presses his chest against you, lifting up your dress to your hips and slowly moving his body down yours. He starts kissing your inner thighs, before biting your underwear and pulling them down with his teeth. 

Your head rolls back, your hand reaching for his hair. You intertwine your fingers in his dark hair as he continues planting kisses further and further up your thigh. Your clit pulsates, anxiously awaiting any form of touch. You bite your lip as you feel his fingers part your slick, wet, folds and his lips lightly brush over your sensitive bud. He plants a kiss there before parting his lips and flicking his tongue over it. 

You gasp sensually in response and your hips roll up to meet him. His tongue moves faster and faster against your clit, before slowing down and pushing his tongue inside you. He repeats this pattern a few times before gradually licking up your opening to your clit teasingly. 

Your hips roll into him faster and faster as your arousal builds and builds. As he continues his delicious motions, your hand reaches down to grab the ground but finds his hand instead. He laces his fingers with yours and holds your hand tight, accepting your tightening grips as encouragement. His tongue starts rolling circles around your clit as he takes his free hand and inserts two fingers slowly inside you. He pumps them slowly, in and out, while his tongue continues licking your clit. 

You can feel yourself getting close to your sexual peak, and your grip on Coopers hand tightens. Your whimpers get loud enough to echo in the cave around you, interspersed with curses and moans. Your clit pulsates harder and you can feel your muscles contracting around his fingers. Sensing this, Cooper pulls back momentarily to look up at you...

"Good girl, come for me... that's it." His words are enough to send you over the edge and with a scream your cunt releases, your entire body spasming and your vaginal walls contracting over and over as you feel the wave of pleasure wash over you. 

Cooper continues to kiss your inner thigh, sliding his hands up your body and moving up with them. He brushes your hair out of your face before leaning down to kiss you sweetly. You taste yourself on his lips and you moan into his kiss. He breaks the kiss and moves his lips to your ear, smiling against your skin. 

"Best bourbon I've ever tasted."

[yanderecrazysie]

Can we get a love poison scenario with Satan where he basically drugged reader into loving him after she rejected him. But the things about this love poison is that externally and verbally reader seems to be now deeply infatuated with him.

But internally her true aware self is still in there trapped and silenced by her drug controlled body.

I felt uncreative with the name lol but I absolutely love this idea

Title: Black Magic

Pairings: Satan (Obey Me) x Reader

WARNINGS: yandere themes, drugging, wizarding AU

Summary: Never trust another wizard’s potion.

"Take a sip of my secret potion One taste and you'll be mine It's a spell that can't be broken And'll keep you up all night"

-From "Black Magic" by Little Mix

“Woah, are you sure you’ve done it right? It’s all pink.”

Your potions’ project partner, Satan, gave you a shrug, his blond hair sticking to his sweaty forehead. You were sure you didn’t look much better than him- you could feel sweat beading on your brow and rolling down your temples. The heat from the two cauldrons in such a small space was definitely getting to you both.

“The goal of the project was to create a potion that makes the drinker happy, right?” Satan asked, giving the potion a swirl with the mixer.

“Right,” you replied, “But mine is yellow. Not pink.”

Satan gave you an awkward smile, “I don’t mean to brag, but I am the top of the class, (Y/n). Have you considered the idea that it’s not supposed to be yellow?”

You frowned, reaching out for the potions’ book, but Satan pulled it out of your reach and read it, “It doesn’t say anything about the potions’ color. I guarantee you, though, this potion will make you happy.”

“Not as happy as my potion will make you,” you shot back with a laugh.

The two of you each pulled out a vial and dipped it in each other’s potions. For a moment, you considered the bright pink liquid with a hint of hesitation, then you downed it. If something was wrong with it, there were All-purpose Antidotes a few feet away in the glass cabinets.

Satan was smiling like an idiot, so unlike the calm smile you’ve seen on him before. You tried to tell him “I told you so” but you were unable to open your mouth. You felt like you were floating, but not in a good way. Almost as though you were in a fog.

“Satan…” the voice that left your mouth was not your own. It had a dreamier quality and a soft sigh at the end. Almost as if… “I love you.”

You tried to take the words back and apologize, but nothing came out. A dopey smile spread across your face and you couldn’t wipe it from your lips.

Satan’s smile grew wider as he watched the love potion take full effect. Your eyes grew hazy and adoring, your stare relaxing into a loving gaze. He had hoped for this outcome, but seeing you transform into what he always wanted you to be… it was far more exhilarating than he could have ever imagined.

He stepped around the cauldrons and moved closer to you and, to your horror, you leaned closer to him until your lips nearly grazed his. You screamed silently at yourself to back away, to turn and run, but your mind and body were no longer one. Your mind was confused, betrayed, horrified….

But your body just wanted his touch.

“How do you feel?” Satan asked, “Happy?”

“So happy, Satan!” you cooed, “I’m so happy because you’re here! I love you, Satan!”

He reached out a hand and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. Such a romantic motion sent shivers down your spine. “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that,” he murmured. 

You wanted to ask what was wrong with him, why he had done such a thing, but you were no longer connected to your voice.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Satan said gleefully, his smile stretching into something insane, a mix between your happy potion and his sick pride at turning you into a mindless lover, “But you never look at me the way I want you too. This is just a… nudge in the right direction. Surely you understand?”

“Of course I understand!” you whined, “I don’t know how I never saw you before!”

“I don’t know either,” Satan says in a voice so smug you wish you could punch him in the face over it.

“You and (Y/n)? When did you two become a thing?” Mammon asked, eyes zeroing in on the way you held hands with Satan. Your hand squeezed his so tightly that it hurt you, but you couldn’t stop.

The giggle that left your mouth was so unlike you that you felt sick, “Why do you sound so surprised?”

Mammon hid a pout, “No reason at all.”

“Mind your own business, brother,” Satan said softly. You just giggled and wrapped your arms around Satan’s. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Aww!” Asmodeus said loudly, “So cute!”

You wished you could vomit all over Satan’s stupid, shiny shoes to show him just how displeased you truly were. You were counting down the hours until the potion wore off.

Satan spent nearly an hour showing off your relationship. You couldn’t wait to give him a good kick in the crotch once you were finally out of this fog. 

But, to your horror, Satan pulled out a vial of pink liquid, handed it to you, and said “Drink.” 

Your love-bound body didn’t hesitate.

[felassan]

Mass Effect: The Official Cocktail Book (Part 1 of 2)

[you can get the book here]

Drink, food, and other lore blurbs from this book. (The book also contains the associated real-world recipes and photography thereof. This post only contains the in-world lore segments).

this post is Part 1 of 2. Rest of post is under a cut due to length. [Link to Part 2]

If there's a particular drink/food you'd like to see the recipe and or picture for, lmk.

Introduction: Written in 2184 CE by “Ambree T’Sia”, identity classified It’s a big galaxy out there. Numerous planets and their inhabitants, all jockeying for power, prestige, and precedence. With these competing agendas often clashing, seldom mixing, sometimes you need a swig of something stiff to get you to the next Relay. Well, you’ve come to the right place. And me? Nine hundred years (give or take) and a variety of careers and aliases later, I hustle my way through the galaxy by the name of Ambree T’Sia these days. It’s the one fiction that allows me to keep the rest of the story honest – with varying degrees, depending on the situation. What I can share is this: a former asari huntress, I left the military bureaucracy to lead a small covert unit of ex-commandos focused on espionage and assassination outside of official channels. More effective and more fun that way. In my earlier years, I quickly learned that the best way to collect information is to buy a merc a drink or talk to the entertainers. The more I relied on bars and nightclubs to gather intel, the more connections I made with the key players. Not just the ones in the back office, but the ones slinging drinks with closed mouths and open ears. I started posing as a bartender myself and got quite good at it. Enjoyed it, even. I couldn’t exactly stay put for, well, reasons. But among those in the know, I’m still the go-to source for recommendations about the Milky Way’s best bars and nightclubs. After one too many “you should write a book!” jokes, I did. Guns and bribes in this economy? A cocktail guide seemed like an ideal little side hustle to help fund my more targeted activities. With this pen name, I’m free to share my favorite anecdotes about well-known figures across civilizations. I’ve also included a few safety tips for surviving the galaxy, setting your drink on fire, or respecting local drinking ages. (If you’re not legal, close this book up and come back when you are, babe.) I guess I just don’t believe in accidental injuries. For those feeling brave, go ahead and speculate about who I truly am. I’m not worried in the least. Because you won’t guess, and I’ll never tell… -- “Ambree T’Sia”

MIXERS Whether you’re slinging the hard stuff or milder “hair of the FENRIS Mech that bit you” drinks, mixers are the essential building blocks to any good bar. By all means, keep your favorite fruit juices, sodas, and whatnots on hand. But as someone who tends to move around a lot due to my… profession (I’m a master of the Asari Goodbye), I tend to lead a minimalist lifestyle. As such, I keep these mixer recipes on file to prepare quickly, as I need them. Let’s just say that they’ll keep your cocktails interesting.

Blue Thessia

Yes, mama is supposed to love all her babies the same, but this mixer is my favorite for its taste and versatility. (Hmm… sound like any cocktail authors you know?) Named after the asari homeworld, the Blue Thessia is the crown jewel of your bar essentials. You’ll predominantly taste sweet juniper and recognize that bold, asari-blue color. You could make your drinks without Blue Thessia, but that’s programming a Quantum Blue Box type AI and not giving it a sexy voice. What a wasted opportunity! Do be aware that this one contains trace amounts of element zero – nothing to concern yourself about, though, and it does keep things nice and sparkly.

Tuchanka Dry

This is the good stuff and it’s very hard to come by, which is why I make my own. Tuchanka Dry is similar to a fat-washed bourbon, which not only adds the flavor of the fat to the spirit, but also its texture and weight. If you’re making a Full Biotic Kick (page 43), well, this part’s the “kick”. Traditionally made with Thresher Maw fat (I did say it was hard to come by), this recipe started as a krogan rite-of-passage celebratory drink, when leftover fat from the kill was mixed together with alcohol. If you prefer dodging grocery carts over acid spit, you can make your own and get a surprisingly similar taste by substituting bacon.

Horse Choker

I’ve often found fighter pilots to be aggressive and competitive, so it delights me that this recipe I procured from a hot-tempered Alliance pilot named Jeff “Joker” Moreau Is instead indulgent and harmonious. The chocolate and espresso flavors combined with the spiced rum work oh so well together in a luxurious cooperation that especially enhances minty drinks. But don’t take my word for it – if you’re feeling a little spicy and hot-tempered, you might find this mixer helpful when you toss back a few shots of Joker’s Challenge (page 98) with your closest frenemies.

Simple Syrup

An essential building block for cocktails. Any well-stocked bar has a traditional simple syrup on hand. If you’re new to cocktail making and a bit apprehensive, start here – just add sugar to boiling water. See? Simple. As you’ll see, I prefer twice as much sugar to water. It’s on the richer side and your mileage may vary, as they say. Be aware that you don’t want to let too much water evaporate, or the syrup will reduce and cook down to something resembling krogan poetry: thicker and sweeter than expected. (Try to get past one stanza of Blue Rose of Illium without rolling your eyes out of their sockets, I dare you.)

Salarian Salination Solution

Successfully made your way through the Simple Syrup recipe (page 13) but still feel like you need one more easy win? Perhaps a mixer that’s ideal for citrus-heavy cocktails? Make this bartender’s saline next and keep in mind that science doesn’t always have to be complicated. Science is also very useful, and you’ll find this mixer in a variety of recipes throughout this book. (For the more adventurous, the Liquified Turian on page 57 is a must.) Now, if you think adding sea salt to warm water isn’t exactly “science”, then your name isn’t Sel Vass – a double-crossing salarian bartender who fancies himself an “intoxicologist”. I have… thoughts on that, which is why I’ve named this Salarian Salination Solution after him. And if your name is Sel Vass, I’m going to add your kidneys to my next bar menu – preferably with you still alive. (I’ve heard that when the Protheans did this to your ancestors, they found the fear adds “spice”).

Tupo Concentrate

I love a good Tupo Concentrate: it has a delicious balance of mouth-puckering tartness and euphoric sweetness. The only problem? I can never find any berries! Tupari sports drink-makers horde as much as they can to sell “12 trillion bottles per day”, despite only containing 10 percent real tupo juice (goddess only knows what the other 90 percent of that swill is). Fortunately, grenadine is a perfect substitute for when you’re looking to add a beautiful hue and unexpected depth of flavor to your cocktail.

Drell Skin Venom

Like bitters, Drell Skin Venom adds a nice bite, making your cocktail extraordinarily complex with just a few drops. Now, you might think that enough Drell Skin Venom may grant the memory-recall properties of its erstwhile secretor, but it’s more likely that the high alcohol content (which keeps it in heavy rotation at swanky bars like the Silver Coast Casino) will create more plot holes in your life than the salarian extranet drama Dynasty of Stars (with the same amount of nausea - stick to science, you excitable little amphibians!)

Asari Honey Syrup

For the occasions where you’re looking to spice things up, I’d suggest using this honey syrup. It’s just as versatile as its simple syrup sister but adds a bit more flavor. This particular mixer has a spicy little background as well: the original recipe was made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery and its honeyed flavor is as alluring as its makers. Considering said makers enjoy nothing less than total domination, however, this syrup is unexpectedly collaborative with numerous drinks and flavors.

AFTERLIFE CLUB What is Afterlife? Why, the ultimate in illicit entertainment. Iconic, chic, ready to show you a good time… but mind your manners. Under all that polish, Afterlife is seething with violence just under the surface. A locus of power and secrecy – is it any wonder the glitzy club sports an ethic of violence and greed? And that’s just how this nightclub’s patrons, and its Pirate Queen, prefer things. Aria T’Loak oversees this particular multilevel palace of paradise and perdition on the space station Omega. And yes, its lure entices millions around the galaxy to leave their ordinary lives for extraordinary adventures, so be sure to show her the proper respect. She’s shot people she liked far more for way less. The recipes in this section are her top sellers – perfect for when you’d rather spend the night in than risk getting poisoned by a batarian bartender with a grudge against humans.

The Omega Sling

This cocktail is a personal favorite of mine from Afterlife for a reason. It’s sweet, tart, bitter, fruity, and spicy all at once. A complex little thing, and a single-serving punch that can also pack one. While it’s definitely a drink made to impress (look at that list of ingredients!), for me, it tastes like personal accomplishment. I once led a raid on a CAT6 outpost that nabbed enough high-end military gear to outfit my crew for a long, long time. It was a bastard to plan, just like the Omega Sling, but that only made the victory that much sweeter.

Blue Sun Spritz

Did you know that the Blue Suns mercenary group was founded by a batarian named Solem Dal’serah? That’s the public-facing story they’d prefer you believe, at least. And to celebrate said founding, Solem toasted the group with this hard-hitting wine spritz. The color ends up being a rich deep blue – a little on the nose, maybe, but it lands most satisfyingly on the tongue.

Tuchanka Sunset

Don’t ever let anyone tell you that krogan don’t have a sense of humor. I used to run with a Battlemaster in my early days whose wit was as dry and vast as an Asterian desert. We survived an Eclipse double-cross by the skin of our teeth, and when we got back to our dingy little hideout, he toasted our fortune with a Tuchanka Sunset. His own personal recipe. He claimed the bartenders at Afterlife know how to make it, if you ask. Now, I love a good sunset drink and as such was appalled to watch him dump black rum on top of an otherwise flawless concoction. Sensing my shock, with a wry half-smile he said, “Well, yeah, wouldn’t be a sunset on Tuchanka without a choking cloud of toxic ash to ruin the view now, would it?”

Serrice Ice Brandy

I find human Alliance officers to be particularly dull and single-minded. So new to space, with such a short lifespan, few know how to relax and have fun. Not so with their medical personnel: disgruntled, overworked, and with the romance of military life quickly snuffed out by the harsh realities of combat, they know how to put the Rs in R & R. Serrice Ice Brandy always reminds me of a particular Alliance officer named Karin Chakwas, very posh and put together, who got a little salty after a drink (or several) of the stuff.

Sovak Juice

Have you heard the one about how krogan males name their infants? According to salarian scientist Padok Wiks, they get drunk on sovak juice and hold belching contests. Apparently, whatever sounds most like a word becomes a name. I doubt there’s much validity to this claim (although… Wrex?) but I still remember the young krogan merc I renamed after a night of tossing back these nutty, bubbly little things together. It’s been a while, but I do sincerely hope Urp is doing well out there. [note on recipe: “Garnish: For sovak juice? Come on, now.”]

Noverian Rum Swizzle

Seeing as rum is a liquor made with sugarcane molasses or sugarcane juice, one might associate it with warm, tropical climates. One would also be wrong and very much missing out on one of the finest varieties in the entire galaxy. I refuse to make this drink with anything less than quality Noverian rum (and Asari Honey Syrup, of course). Once you’ve had a taste, you’ll understand why Aria T’Loak was so sulky after Purgatory’s stock of the stuff ran out. Though, to be fair, having her entire empire occupied by Cerberus General Oleg Petrovsky may have also contributed to her sour mood. For that authentic touch of frost, I recommend harnessing biotics to give your stick the right amount of swizzle.

DARK STAR LOUNGE Dark stars, as a theoretical curiosity, could be extremely powerful. Dark Star Lounge, an actual bar, definitively serves extremely powerful drinks. Located on the Citadel one level up from the C-Sec office in Zakera Ward (a convenient perp walk away when patrons get too rowdy), many bartenders are happy to give customers exactly what they ask for… the “usual” being a thumping hangover. If you like your drinks stiffer than a turian’s carapace, you’ve flipped to the right section. Higher-proof spirits with a higher spirit-to-mixer ratio for a higher class of drinker, Dark Star recipes do not disappoint. I trust you can handle it… and if you happen to wake up next to an attractive stranger the next morning whose name you can’t quite recall, I recommend breaking the ice over some Huevos Rancheros à la Vega (see page 12, you charmer).

Batarian Ale Shandy

If you’re not a krogan or batarian, please don’t drink uncut batarian ale. It’s mean, it’s green, and it will leave your insides clean. Instead, use this recipe to make yourself a refreshing and fizzy shandy. Yes, a human Spectre managed to stay on their feet after chugging a glass of the uncut ale – at least that’s what one Dark Star Lounge bartender claims. But ask yourself: Are you really the type? I’m reminded of a naïve bar patron cosplaying in plastic N7 armor he convinced his poor wife to buy him (along with his shuttle-fare off world, understandably). You’re not “truly extreme”. Do yourself a favor: Check your ego and enjoy the Batarian Ale Shandy.

Dark Star Vespertini

No trip to Dark Star Lounge is complete without ordering this signature cocktail, the Dark Star Vespertini, especially if you have a bit of a sweet tooth. I’ve included the recipe here, at great risk to certain of my… relationships… at the lounge. It’s simply too delicious not to share, with a rich chocolate-raspberry taste. Be sure to shake this one well – for the nonbiotics who need to do this task manually, I liken it to the amount of time until you start to worry your arm will fall off. If it feels like you’re giving the tumbler a quick ride in an M35 Mako, you’re doing it right.

Ryncol Cocktail

Listen up, tough guys. I promise you that bartenders are never impressed when you swagger up and ask for “the strongest you have”. In fact, just to make sure you embarrass yourself in front of your friends, they’ll probably slap on a fake smile and pour you a tall glass of krogan ryncol. Never heard of it? They certainly don’t advertise the stuff. But for fun, let’s spitball some potential slogans: “Ryncol! It hits aliens like ground glass,” or “Ryncol! It’s like sipping knives,” or “Ryncol! It’ll set of radiological alarms.” Just ask a certain Commander Shepard. And enjoy your purple prayers to the porcelain goddess…

Paragade Punch

While Tupari sports drinks are all the rage, don’t discount Paragade! Especially in cocktails. By itself, it’s not too good and it’s not too bad, but mixed with alcohol, it’s somewhat of a revelation. This recipe gives you a layered drink that starts out sweetly and ends with a real kick to the quads. Perfect for those nights where you might hold your tongue at one bar only to start throwing chairs at the next. It takes a deft hand to get the blue-purple-red proportions right when you’re making one, and to get the ending you want after a night of drinking them.

Dextro Heat Sink

Like a boilermaker, the Dextro Heat Sink is a great way of making strong alcohol stronger. During his Archangel days, Garrus Vakarian and his crew would slug these like candy as they racked up wins against the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, and Eclipse thugs on Omega. This is a sweet and spicy tequila cocktail (the “heat”) with a dropped shot of Ancho Reyes liqueur (the “sink”). An unlimited amount of these might be fun at first, with the occasional pause to blow some heat off your tongue, but it’s advised to keep them to a finite amount.

Turian Horosk

Considering the rigidity of turians, you’d need a pretty strong drink to loosen them up enough to get the wedgie out of their thermal armor. Enter: Turian Horosk. Another Garrus Vakarian favorite, you’re not going to find this outside of a handful of bars, and certainly not at the posher Silver Coast Casinos of the ‘verse. So, if you’re looking to calibrate your soberness in the opposite direction, here’s the recipe for you. The lemonade flavor helps it go down easy and the spices are optional – the hangover from too many rounds of this, however, is not.

PURGATORY BAR The Citadel is a tourist trap. Humans tend to view this as a disparaging label, but I say it with great enthusiasm. For my credits, there’s no better way to take in the sights than as a lowercase t tourist, and there’s no better place to do that than the Citadel. If you have the time, a bar named Purgatory serves drinks that are especially heavenly. If you like new takes on classic cocktails with a slightly higher mixer-to-alcohol ratio, sip on these before taking in the sights and sounds of the Presidium. And if you’re just not convinced it’s worth the visit, well, at least you can whip up these drinks at home. And do take your Citadel recommendations with a grain of salt when you’re there (barring the guide currently in your hands, of course). Especially ones coming from the hotshot human Spectre making the rounds – that one will endorse anything for a discount.

Frozen Pyjak

The best part about tending bar? The customers. I learn a little about a lot just by listening. The worst part about tending bar? The customers. Sometimes I don’t have to listen too intently, as their volume increases with their alcohol intake. For fun, I used to give my loudest customers a freebie: the Frozen Pyjak. I overheard Samantha Traynor boasting (loudly, ironically) about this and it sounded too entertaining not to try it out: Every few hours, you empty your spill pad into a martini glass and toss a little ice in for presentation. This is a much nicer variation for you to make. All these ingredients go incredibly well together, so you can serve it to people you actually like. [note on recipe: “Garnish: Well now, that would defeat the point.”]

Full Biotic Kick

My curiosity for the Full Biotic Kick was piqued by a charming young Alliance comms specialist named Samantha Traynor who extolled its virtues. Apparently, this was the most popular drink served when she worked “extensively” as a bartender during her university days… for a whole four years. I understand humans consider this quite the span of time – how quaint. I believe the “kick” comes directly from the Tuchanka Dry, and if you’ve ever faced down a biotic krogan Battlemaster (and lived to tell about it), you’ll understand why.

Vodka Skycar

As the Citadel became increasingly populated and its denizens spread across the wards of this colossal space station, they began to rely more and more on a centralized mode of transportation. Enter the skycar, a maddeningly slow shuttle that, though nowhere near as glacially paced as Citadel elevators, redeems itself with some of the most incredible views in the galaxy. When I need to slow down, I make myself a nice Vodka Skycar, get lost in its pretty sky-blue color, and hire an ambling ride around the glittering Citadel Tower. Magical.

Rojo Loco

Everyone loves a good Rojo Loco: C-Sec, pirates, accountants, politicians, hunky Alliance marines who think pull-up contests and cute little nicknames might get you into their beds (full disclosure, they can, and they have… cheers, James Vega). Because underneath all the stories everyone tells themselves about themselves, at the end of the day, all any of us are really looking for is to enjoy a bit of spice and heat. Maybe that’s a firefight. Maybe that’s filing paperwork. Either way, this drink ticks that box and gives you the same warm tingle.

TM88 Smash

I love a good rebrand. TM88 used to be known as “Merc’s Courage,” because drinking enough of the stuff gave one the false sense of strength that often comes with getting absolutely hammered. Salarians especially took a shine to this Earth-based whiskey and swore it had medicinal properties… when really it was the shortest distance between two points to get a person drunk. Ever the opportunists, salarians branded TM88 as a cure-all and “the only alcoholic drink endorsed by the Medical Board of Sur’Kesh.” Alliance officer Kaidan Alenko credits the stuff for his speedy discharge from Huerta Memorial Hospital. So, drink up! Doctor’s orders.

ETERNITY Due to its extreme opulence and high level of security, the asari-run planet of Illium is a preferred tourist destination and (second, third, fourth) home of many of the galaxy’s most well-known celebrities. It’s also under a state of near-total surveillance. You can take their self-congratulatory media touting Eternity as “the sexiest bar in the Milky Way” with a few handfuls of salt (though with Matriarch Aethyta slinging drinks, “sexiest bartender” would be harder to argue with), but don’t sleep on their drink selection. I have a soft spot for asari drinks, as you might expect. I find them to be sweet and mellow and think Eternity gets them right. I’ve collected a few of my favorites for you here. Regarding the Liquified Turian (page 57) backstory, well… who can say if that one’s legit? But seeing as the normally stringent customs laws of Council space on safety and sapient trafficking are relaxed on Illium, I can’t say I’d be too surprised.  

Mystery Drink

I understand mystique. It’s a powerful weapon that can influence your enemies before you ever need to fire a shot. I also understand bullshit and am very good at differentiating the latter from the former. So, when I first heard this Mystery Drink is rumored to come from “the deepest reaches of the Traverse,” distilled on a “shadowy nameless planet” by “specifically adapted Vorcha,” alarms were ringing in my head. Until I had a sip. Deceptively fruity and floral but highly intoxicating with an otherworldly appearance, well, does it matter where it came from, especially if you can get the same fabulous taste using syrup from canned lychees? No. In the case of this delicious little Mystery Drink, it most certainly does not.

Asari Honey-Mead Bellini

Made in an Ardat-Yakshi monastery, asari honey mead is for those with taste. And, let’s be honest, credits. Whoever said “the best things in life are free” was compensating, because this expensive little drink is worth the experience. Ever the one to push boundaries, I prefer to prepare my honey mead with sparkling wine to make an effervescent little bellini, because the sweet and mellow flavor mixed with bubbles positively sparkles – in the glass and on the soul.

Perfection

I once crossed paths with this pretty little human who called herself Miranda Lawson. Despite her formidable intelligence, killer biotic abilities, and, well, let’s just say her “superior physical constitution,” she seemed to be… missing something. She didn’t say and I didn’t press, but we shared a drink whose taste was as excellent as the woman pouring. Asking her what she called it, she gave a sad smile and simply said, “Perfection”. Indeed. To her surprise (and delight, I might add), I sweetened the affair with a shot of strawberry liqueur and told her, “Yes, but there’s always room for improvement, dear”. Hmm. I wonder if she ever found what she was looking for.

Memory Stealer

Ah, Kasumi Goto. The best thief in the business. You don’t remember her and she prefers it that way. She’s so good, she’ll even nick your memory of her ever having been there… along with whatever valuables you had in your pockets. When I do have the good fortune of remembering her, I like to pour this drink made with Japanese gin in her honor. And like the master thief herself, one too many Memory Stealers will no doubt leave you with a hazy recollection the next morning.

Liquified Turian

“Ambree,” you say. “Certainly, Matriarch Aethyta’s story of a krogan drinking liquified turian on a bet is embellished? A tall tale? Urban legend meant to titillate, disgust, and delight?” Maybe. Regardless, it’s one of my favorites, so I made this drink in homage (and to capitalize off the story – your girl is nothing if not quick to make a quick cred). I use a tequila base, with agave being native to a desert climate like you’d find on Palaven. Of course, I use egg white for the smooth texture, plus saline to stabilize this particular choice of “protein”. And the blue curaçao, well, turian blood is blue, after all! Mm, you can almost taste the dextro-amino acids. [note on recipe: “Garnish: No embellishment needed with a backstory this impressive.”]

FLUX

Flux is one of the more recent night spots to open on the Citadel and boasts a casino in addition to a well-stocked bar. The atmosphere is almost as inviting as the volus who runs the place – alternating between owner, cook, and bartender, one wonders where Doran finds the energy. But at some point, you’ll be sure to find this little macaroon from Irune shaking his pressure suit on the dance floor.

The recipes I’ve collected from Flux are, as you can imagine, fun and whimsical. Seeing as Doran spends an equal amount of time in the kitchen as he does behind the bar, you can also find a fair bit of culinary flare in the drink preparation. Enjoy yourself, Earth-clan!

Tupari Blast

Despite the volus being a race not cut out for physicality of any kind, their mastery of trade and commerce has helped Tupari sports drinks conquer the galaxy. It seems like you can’t swing a dead CAT6 without hitting a vending machine of the stuff, and Doran has a particular fondness for it. I’d be remiss to not include it here, both for its delicious taste and because of how well it sells. Its strong fruity flavor makes it a consistent Flux favorite. It’ll give you the courage to get on the dance floor and the electrolytes to stay there until closing time.

Rum Relay

A toast to the Mass Relays! Forgive my (brief, I promise) indulgence in sentimentality, but the Relays have brought together an array of intelligent life whose differences remind us of how we’re all pretty much the same: unsure of our place in the universe, but in our best moments willing to teach and learn from our Milky Way sisters and brothers. No one understands that better than Doran, and what better way to celebrate it than by sloshing a Rum Relay milk punch all over the dance floor as you boogie the night away.

Blasto Sting

This one unironically loves the Blasto franchise. The acting, the writing, the backdrops? High camp, babe. A human essayist, Sontag, wrote, “You can’t camp about something you don’t take seriously. You’re not making fun of it; you’re making fun out of it.”  And what’s more fun than adding cream to grape Pucker? It creates a hanar in every shot. Try my favorite drinking game: gather your friends, fire up Blasto Saves Christmas, and throw back a Blasto Sting every time he says, “Enkindle THIS!”

Denorian Beer Granita

Krogan are not known for negotiation. If you find yourself mediating with one for goddess’ sake do not show up empty-handed. I tried to bluff my way through just such a situation once and you wouldn’t be reading this book if I hadn’t had ingredients for Denorian Beer Granita on hand. I developed a fondness for Denorian beer from Urdnot Wrex, but this cocktail takes it to another level. In a desperate attempt to cool tensions, I offered to make a round of this unique drink with its smooth taste, fun texture, and visually appealing look. The krogan got the recipe and I got to walk away (with a little extra pep in my step from the caffeine). Win-win.

Tasty Tankard

What can I say? I’m a Matriarch with a Maiden’s tastes: I like a pretty young thing on my arm, a warm Acolyte pistol, and a heaping bowl of human ice cream. Chocolate, if you’re taking notes. The Tasty Tankard is essentially a boozy milkshake, and I urge you to ignore anyone who tries to tell you that drinks made in a blender only belong in cheesy resorts. This one goes down dangerously easy, and the recipe makes enough for two… or one krogan with a sweet tooth. If that krogan happens to be Grunt, I advise having enough on hand to fill a large enough container. Perhaps a flower pot’s worth? [note on recipe: “Serves: 2… or 1 krogan.”]

CHORA’S DEN Not for the faint of heart, Chora’s Den on the Citadel is the “livelier but deadlier” choice to stop for a drink. A gentleman’s club owned by a scoundrel (novel, I know), the clientele and drinks lean heavily towards the strong and seedy type. The loud music and low lighting do well to cover the bloodstains and less-than-legitimate conversations, but you’ll have a great time if you mind your business and tip the asari dancers well. Be sure to ask Fist, the proprietor of this fine establishment, about the back room – it’s perfect for your next shady deal. And I’m not one for gossip, but if you’re curious about the smell, I’ve heard Fist has a habit of burying “old problems” under the dancers’ stage. The following recipes evoke the Den’s more… aggressive tendencies.

Tequila Se’lai

Whether you’re human, turian, or salarian, we’ve all got our shared little “catch phrases” we catch ourselves saying: “Embrace eternity” if you’re asari, “Victory or death” if you’re krogan, ★heavy breathing intensifies★, if you’re volus… you get the idea. I quite like the quarians’ “Keelah Se’lai,” or “By the homeworld I hope to see one day.” Tragic but beautiful. This recipe is an ode to their homeworld, Rannoch, with desert and coastal flavors all brought together with a lovely prickly pear syrup.

Elasa

I’m not really a “drown your sorrows” type of gal. I’m more of the “drown you in a hail of incendiary ammo if you upset me” type. To each their own. If you lean more on a shoulder and less on a trigger, you can’t go wrong with an Elasa, aka Sorrow’s Companion. (They’re not joking when they say it serves one…) Pale green with a bitter aftertaste and tangy sweetness, it’s a great way to take life’s lemons and make lemon garnish for your cocktail (or limes, in this case). Fist, ever putting the gentlemen in gentlemen’s club, used to refer to this drink as The Cynthia, a snide reference to Elasa being Alliance Commander David Anderson’s preferred drink during his divorce.

Quad Kicker

Not for the faint of heart, the Quad Kicker will, well, kick you straight in the quad, I suppose. Samantha Traynor is adamant about “no curry powder” in her version, but why take away that spicy mouthfeel? Add that curry simple syrup and let this baby wake you up! It ain’t called the Quad Fondler, so step up and throw down with your friends (or enemies).

Shadowbrokertini

I hope by this point you’ve come to realize that I know everything that’s worth knowing. Yet I humbly admit that, try as I might, I’m still unable to unmask the Shadow Broker. But I am familiar with their agents, including a certain proprietor of Chora’s Den. And even though Fist refuses to confess what he knows (which, I suspect, is even less than I do), he did agree to collaborate on a cocktail worthy of that confidential entity. Dark, shadowy, and with enough caffeine to help keep one sharp in the secrets-trading game, the Shadowbrokertini theatrically uses dry ice to add an air of mystery. I trust you don’t need the Shadow Broker’s services to know that swallowing dry ice can kill you, yes? [note on recipe: “(Note: Some Shadow Brokers prefer it without lime at all.)”]

The Erotic Biotic

I suppose I should start this one off with a warning: Don’t underestimate young asari. Yes, there is a strong drive for at the Maiden stage to explore and experience. Curious and restless, some look for the nearest bar to dance in. But that’s no reason to let your guard down. Many don’t realize their mistake until they’re telekinetically slammed into the nearest concrete wall. Well, that’s just the ratio of risk-to-reward that Chora’s Den captures with this drink. With a winky flavor profile of fruit and cream, finish your Erotic Biotic with Drell Skin Venom to add a tingly bite (for the adventurous types), or with chocolate bitters (for the romantics). I like a bit of both – I may be a Matriarch, yet I’ve never lost that desire to explore and experience…

The Shifty Cow

While I’ve heard just about every maxim in the ‘verse, one rings particularly true: “You can’t trust any animal that can milk itself.” Yes, I’m talking about space cows, with their unsettling, grabby little hands. Turn your back around one and they’ll pick through your pockets. The Shifty Cow cocktail is a clarified milk punch. And that’s partly because it’s fun to separate the milk solids from the drink, but also because I’m reminded of these audacious little cows eagerly separating an unsuspecting fool from their credits. And yes, we do have that in common, which reminds me of a human maxim: “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.” You win this round, space cows.

-----

[you can get the book here]

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Previous Part | Master List | Next Part

With his faded tats

Sings in a cover band

Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod

Oh my, oh my god

I like Dylan a lot

But oh god I love Dylan's dad

Word Count: 6k

y'all loved part 1 so I cooked this up for ya <3

Summary: You just fucked your boyfriend's dad...now what?

Warnings: voyeurism, slight confrontation, light fluff, but lotsa dirt

“Sweetheart. Wake up. Wake up.” Strong hands grip your shoulders, you feel light kisses decorate your shoulder into your neck tickling your skin and you find yourself giggling awake. “Wake up.”

Eddie’s face comes into view, and his worry lines are accentuated, and hairs standing on your arms tell you something was off. “Hmm?”

Before Eddie could even tell you what was going on Dylan bursts through his bedroom door. “Dad, have you seen—” he stops mid sentence, scanning the room quickly, you naked in Eddie’s sheets, same as his dad, and you can see the moment it clicks, his face moving from concerned to angry in a split second. “What the fuck—”

Eddie interrupts him, the white sheet around his hips he had held together by one fist completely unhelpful to his case. “Dylan—”

“No, what the fuck, guys?” He switches his glance to you, and the anger melts as the hurt seeps through. “Seriously. I-I really cared about you. I mean I knew you were too good for me, but my dad? You fucked? My dad?”

Still on Eddie’s bed, still naked, you open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

His eyes flicker back to Eddie, the anger coming back to the surface. “Seriously? Hooking up with my girlfriend? Yeah sure, she cheated but you’re supposed to be my fucking father!” His teeth grits together, a mist appearing behind his eyes. “Fuck you both. I’m out of here.”

He storms out of the room, and you wrap a sheet around you to follow him. Eddie lets his sheet drop to stop you. “Move.” You tell him, staring at him dead in the eyes.

“No.” You roll your eyes, wrapping yourself tighter in the sheet, feeling self conscious now.

“I need to go talk to him…I-I have to apologize.” You look around hopelessly, wondering where the silk pajamas you were so eager to take off were now hiding, and tears threaten to escape your eyes and the sniffles are not too far behind.

“Hey, hey, hey.” He holds your face, catching a tear that falls. You refuse to look him in the eye, knowing just one look will make you melt. “Let him settle down.”

“Did you see the look on his face?” You whisper, finally reaching Eddie’s eyes.

He gulps, placing a solid kiss onto your forehead. “I did.” He hums and tugs you into a hug and you realize it’s the first physical touch he’s given you that wasn’t remotely sexual. His chin rests on your head and you tuck yourself into him, and it was hard to stop the tears from coming in from the guilt.

He leans back again, hushing you softly. “Sweetheart…” he started, catching your attention with the intention behind his tone. “Even if we didn’t do anything this morning, do you think you could’ve held back for very much longer?” Your head shakes no in the grip he held your chin in. “I would’ve given us another week, maybe, tops.” He leans in to steal your lips in a sweet kiss, one that sent butterflies invading your tummy.

“So, we would’ve ended up hurting him anyway?” You ask, the idea sour in your mind.

“I’m saying I wish you didn’t go to that mixer. Wish I could’ve met you at a bar, or a coffee shop…maybe things wouldn’t be so messy.” His fingers are lightly resting on the back of your neck, thumbs framing your face. You smile at the idea, thinking in some alternate universe Dylan didn’t have to end up in the crossfires.

Your eyes start to scan the floor looking for clothes, anyway. “I still want to apologize.” You sit on his bed, reaching down for the floor to find where the hell you tossed the two-piece off to.

Eddie sits next to you, now in a pair of boxer shorts. “Sweetheart.” He calls for your attention, you grunt, annoyed. “Baby.” You start to get frustrated, the pajamas no where near in sight. “Y/N.” You freeze at the use of your name, leaning up to see what he had wanted. “Give him time. He won’t be ready for apologies. He probably doesn’t want to see your face right now.”

Eddie gently takes some hair sitting on your shoulder, and a shudder ripples through you as it tickles as it glides across behind your back. “You know who does want to see your face?” He leans in to kiss your shoulder, his tongue feeling tempting in your skin as he moved up your neck. “To see it all bent back as I make you feel good?”

You moan lightly, warning Eddie this was not the best time for that. He grabs hold of your chin, turning it towards him swiftly before capturing your lips in a dirty, wet kiss. His hand rested heavily at the top of your thigh, you were still wrapped in his sheet, so it wasn’t really touching your skin but the weight of it earned a meek whimper out of you.

Eddie pulls away, and your eyes are clouded in lust as you stare with your mouth half open at him. The sheet drops from one of your shoulders, grabbing onto his face to pull him again. You’d already forgotten how delicious of a kisser he was. Your tongue swipes at this bottom lip, asking for access, to which he moans and grants immediately.

He reaches around you, yanking off the sheet with zest. “Lemme see that gorgeous body of yours.” He mutters, continuing to kiss you, his callused hands sweeping over. They worked like magic, as they moved along it was like he transformed goosebumps onto you. One hand lands on one of your tits, and he pulls apart just so he can watch the way your nipple perks up at the touch of him playing with it. He watches as your breathing grows shallower.

A crooked smile slowly inches across his face, watching your eyes close as he experiments with just the smallest of touches making you fall apart. He leans in, delicately placing his tongue on it, the touch sending a ripple straight to your core. As he watches he just can’t help himself, his teeth grazing the peak and you let out a small wine as you start to lay on your back.

It only encourages him, sucking on the bead and the surrounding areola through his teeth, and as he pulls back to watch his work, he sees the forming of a mark. His brown eyes overblown with lust, an idea forming in his head. He licked the distance from your mound to your neck, the touch of it exuding pure pleasure through your body and your legs shake from it. “Mine.” He whispers, and suddenly the same motion he used on your tit is on your neck, and he worked his teeth and tongue on you, the pain and pleasure mixed together earning more involuntary mewls out of you. “All mine.” He makes his way across your neck, spending time making sure each spot gets its own mark.

By the time he’s on the other side of your neck your thighs are squeezed together, wanting some relief to the heat that has pooled in your cunt. He finally pulls back, and the beginnings of the hickeys that are forming give him a sense of satisfaction he couldn’t possibly describe. “There. All marked and claimed.”

The sentence drives you wild, and you reach up for him. “Kiss me again.”

A guff of laughter escapes his mouth from the desperation in your voice, but he does as you plead, anyway, the sound of your breathless, fucked out voice just from his tongue and teeth across your neck going straight to his cock. As his tongue his yours again the want to touch him spreads through you like wildfire and you reach out to palm him, and your mouth muffles the choked-out moan.

Your hand moves up and into his boxers, fisting him and the weight of his cock in your hand makes you suddenly desperate for more.

“Need you inside me.” You gasp, letting go and pulling the boxers down to reveal his pretty cock. Your legs automatically find their way around his hips, and he stutters as the force of you pulling him in startles him.

“Fuck, baby.” He stutters out, the desperation in you too hot to handle. He leans into your ear, his chest against your own and the skin-on-skin contact makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. He finally places his two fingers on your clit, massaging lightly but enough to finally give you some release. “You want me to fuck you again? Pound you?”

You nod desperately, and Ed keeps massaging your clit, making sure you were prepared for him to fuck you senseless like he had planned. Your legs fall from his hips desperately, his expert fingers only moving enough to give you a hint of what you wanted but still giving some relief. Eventually he scoops of some of the slick gathered around your entrance and coats his cock in it, the glisten of it reminding Eddie of pure sin. Fuck, he couldn’t go another fucking second without being in you.

He guides his cock into your entrance, and the guttural moan that involuntarily escapes your lips is the best sound in the world. Maybe next time he could record it and make it his text tone.

Your legs wrap around his hips again, nuzzling your nose to inhale the scent you’ve already memorized but couldn’t get enough of. “Your cock…fuck. So good.” You whisper, and the words can’t seem to come out at how fucking full he made you feel.

“Your tight pussy, baby.” He grunts out, his voice gruff in your ear. “God, I could make a religion for it.” You giggle at this, and the way your pussy pulsed with your laughter it just pulls another moan straight out of him. He pulls back, hooking his palm to frame your face and there’s this shine in his eyes as they bore into yours. He pulls his hips out, his mouth opening, but focusing on your face as he does so, watching your reaction mimic his own.

His hips snap against yours, pleasure bubbling up in your tummy as your eyes remain on his darkened gaze. His pace picks up, and your breathing matches, and it was like neither of you blinked as a bubble of pleasure circled around the two of you. A smile breaks on his face, his dimples prominent through the authenticity of it. You reach up blindly for his hand on your face, interlocking your fingers. He places them over your head, and a smile breaks across your face, nodding as you watch each other just get closer and closer. His grip tightens around your own, and your thumb starts absentmindedly rubbing his.

Your smile ends up molding back into an open mouth, Eddie letting go of your hand to use it under your knee and hike it up, using the angle to fuck you even deeper. He can see the immediate difference it makes for you, a shift in your face as your eyes glaze over, still watching him. Your breaths turn slowly into whimpers, and as his hips moved faster you found it harder to keep your eyes open.

“Keep watching.” Eddie whispers, and you listen, though his face is blurring as it gets harder to. “That’s a good girl, keep your eyes on me.”

Your face lights up at the praise, his hand hooked around your knee digging into the delicate skin of your thighs as he holds your leg open. A shudder runs through you, something Eddie hears loud and clear as the feeling of almost there starts to invade your senses.

“That’s it, baby, keep watching.” He whispers, and he leans in to kiss where your jaw meets your skull, little kitten licks causing a whimper out of you. He leans back up to pull your eyes back on him, and the other hand framing your face he puts two fingers into his mouth, licking delicately before making a show of putting the two on your clit.

Your mouth falls open, and your chest stutters at it expands. “Almost there?” You nod, and his fingers move a bit faster and the orgasm waves over you, his fingers working you through it as your pussy fluttered around his length.

He fights to keep watching you but his hips stutter through his own orgasm washing over him, but his eyes remain on yours, the flush of his cheeks and the sweat starting to glisten his forehead making him hotter when you didn’t think that was even possible.

He still rubs your clit as your orgasm finishes, and he stops gently, slowly moving his hips to a stop as well. His body weight collapses on yours, but his forehead clashes on your own, blown out eyes still on yours. “Holy shit, baby.” He whispers, a soft smile lighting up his features.

You smile back, tilting your head. You lean into kiss him, and it starts of delicate, his tongue barely grazing yours, but it’s not enough for you. “Ed.” You mumble, and it feels like he’s purposely pulling back to not give you the hot messy kisses you had started to crave. “Kiss me.”

He lets out a low chuckle. “I am, baby.”

“Kiss me harder.”

“Just had one of the best orgasms of my life, sweetheart, and you want more?” You just nod, and Eddie gives you a look of utter perplexity. Fucking youth.

“Please? I want more. Your cock feels so good.”  You take advantage of his stunned inclination and lean in for a harder kiss, dirtily moving your tongue along his own and he moans into it, his hips stuttering in yours.

You sneakily bend the leg that he didn’t hook, getting a solid feel of your foot against his bed and quickly push off, effectively putting Eddie onto his back. You smile at the success, and a giggle bursts out of you as Eddie stares up at you in complete awe. “Wanna ride you.” You giggle out.

Eddie nods slowly. “Got that.” He sits up though, needing to feel your tits up against his chest again.

You lift your hips up, hooking both arms around his neck. His arms hook around your back nails digging into your back as you slam down, and his eyes roll into the back of his head. You start to roll your hips, the smell of sex exuding from the both of you. “Fuck, you use those hips so goddamn well.”

These words only encourage you, of course, your hips moving a little faster as the movement goes from circles to actual hip thrusts. You lean into his neck, licking a long stripe from the crook of his neck to his ear, making him shudder in response. “Fucking Christ.” He exclaims and you feel a sense of pride from it.

You nip at his jawline, the day-old stubble scratching at your face but you didn’t mind. You lean back, and your legs start to ache as you bounced on his cock, but you don’t mind, throwing your head back. Eddie scooches forward on his bed, eventually getting to the edge. He presses his feet solidly onto the ground and uses the traction to assist you, snapping his hips harder.

The extra assistance hits deeper, and involuntary high-pitched whines leave your throat at each thrust. He responds by tugging on your hair and it only makes your heat squeeze tighter around him. Eventually you slowed down, out of breath and overwhelmed, your hips still slowly thrusting.

You didn’t even need to tell him; he follows your cue. “Get on all fours.” He whispered, and you nodded, whining as you climbed off his cock.

You crawled forward so he could climb on the bed behind you, but he grabs you and pulls you back to him. He lines up his cock with you again and thrusts right into you. Within only four thrusts you find yourself unable to stay on your hands, falling to your chest.

He stops. “Stay on those hands, sweetheart. If you’re gonna be greedy better act like the slut you are.”

You put slowly move back onto your hands, and your arms are weak but only when they’re fully expanded does Eddie start to continue. His hips snap even harder now, and your arms are so weak you find yourself focusing on staying on your hands. A whimper escapes, your arms buckling from the pleasure alone. “What, baby can’t follow simple instructions?”

You whimper, feeling pathetic. He fucks into you about three more times as he takes pleasure watching how much your arms shake beneath you. “Alright, you can let go.”

You sigh in relief as you fall forward, and Eddie lets out a dark chuckle. His hips remain bucking into you at the rate they were, and all the energy you focused onto your upper strength can now be used in your throat as you let Eddie know just how much you loved this position with him.

The sounds that left your throat were borderline animalistic, all rough as you choke out, “Fuck, fuck, so good.”

He stops for a second, kissing down your back as his hand wraps around your neck. Your eyes roll back at this and his hips continue their journey. Your pussy tightens, not a sound coming from you, but Eddie can feel your legs tense up around his own, signalling just how close you were. “Gonna cum in this pussy again.”

Your vision is somewhat blurred when he lets go of your neck, and you fall back forward when the same hand wraps itself around in your hair, grabbing a good chunk. “Oh my good fucking slut. All mine.”

“Yours.” You manage out, the beginning of the orgasm starting to overtake you. “All yours.”

These words alone bring Eddie to another high, as his hips stutter, filling you up and from the cum in you this morning to the first round, it just ended up dripping down your leg. Eddie watches, bending over to watch obscenity of the white glistened substance dripping down your leg. He can’t help it, leaning in to take a long lick up it to clean it all up.

He takes his finger against the other thigh to scoop some up and when you turn around in question to ask, he holds up his own cum, and without any hesitation you put your mouth around the finger, enjoying the salt with a slight metallic taste of your own pussy. The taste of you two together. Fuck.

Your lips leave his finger with a pop, and Eddie lets out a sigh of disbelief, his mouth upturned into a smile. “Fuck.” He walks to his drawer, pulling out the pink two-piece you spent so much time looking for.

“You sneaky little bastard.” You laugh, grabbing them from him. “I needa shower. And my overnight bag.”

“Let me grab it.” Eddie mutters, putting on a pair of sweats and leaving his room. You can hear him knock on Dylan’s door, and Dylan answers.

“What?”

“She needs her stuff.”

Dylan doesn’t answer, put the sound of your bag being thrust in Eddies face is heard followed by a door slamming. Eddie is back in the room within seconds, a look on his face you can’t quite decipher off the bat.

“He’ll forgive you. One day.” You tell him, though you’re not sure you believed it.

“Hm.” Eddie mutters, placing your bag in front of you. “Took him a long time to forgive his mom.”

You knew nothing about their divorce, a subject Dylan liked to avoid. From the look on your face, Eddie knew you were clueless.

“She had an affair, which is why we divorced.” He explained, and he says it with such indifference you could tell he had already closed the wound. “He was only ten, and that woman was his world. He was so mad he wanted to live with me instead.” He sighed, sitting on the bed next to you. “I don’t know how long he’ll take to get over this...or if he will.”

“He’s still here. That should be a good sign.”

“Maybe.”

You lean into kiss him, petting his face in comfort. “Wanna join me?” You ask him, mostly to cheer him up, but also because the water droplets running down his tattoos is a concept that made you drool.

“Oh, sweetheart. Just the pick me up I need.”

-

Luckily, unlike the shower in the main bathroom, Eddie’s was big enough to hold the two of you. You stood underneath the water, basking in the feeling as the water soaked your hair. Eddie grabbed the shampoo you brought in, and before you knew it his elbows raise, and he starts massaging it gently into your scalp. Your eyes close in response, humming as his rough fingers were so gentle and intentional about their touch. He kisses your cheek as he finishes, assisting you backwards into the spray and helping wash all the soap out. He guides the hot water away from your face, scratching lightly at the scalp to make sure all the bubbles are gone. He repeats with conditioner, working it into the ends and a lighter scalp massage with the excess, and you’re a pile of goo when you open your eyes as he finishes.

He smiles lightly, and you lean forward to kiss him fiercely. You look around, seeing the curly hair shampoo on the shelf next to you. “Lemme.”

He melts into it, and you pour some shampoo into your hand. You work it into his hair, slowly massaging and watching as his face loses all the tension. Each wrinkle smooths out, a sigh of content leaving him. You get all his hair coated in the shampoo, making sure it was good and prepped. You maneuver your bodies so he’s under the water, and soon you find yourself reaching on your tip toes to see if the bubbles are gone. He takes pity, chuckling and he moves onto his knees. You thank him graciously, now able to work the water so it washed out all the shampoo.

You moved for his conditioner, right across from you and his arms wrap around you as you do so, lips reaching your abdomen right underneath your tits. He looks up at you, and it takes you aback momentarily. You weren’t sure what you did to deserve his shining eyes and parted lips, but it wasn’t enough.

“Need you back on your feet.” You tell him, and he slowly moves back onto them, hands framing your face. You place the conditioner on his ends, watching as his eyes closed again. All the excess conditioner on your hands you moved into his scalp, not quite as deeply as he did for you, but he leans into it anyway.

His hands find their way onto your hips, moving you back under the water to rinse the conditioner that has been soaking. He gives you the same care as before, working with such intentionality. “Done.” He mutters, and you grab his arms to silently instruct him back onto his knees so you could do the same.

As the conditioner leaves his hair, that same unguarded look on his face as you helped him, he glances around you for your body wash.

Before you knew it he’s back on his feet, pumping too much liquid in his hands and working the soap along your body. He smiles as the soap on your tits are a sight to see, but he doesn’t focus on it too much, working the soap everywhere, putting focus on each part. Each arm, your tummy, your neck, your ass, each leg, until you’re nice and lathered. He pushes you lightly back into the now lukewarm stream and from your goosebumps alone he turns up the hot water a bit more.

The soap cascades down your body, and you watch as he gathers a scoop of the water by itself. You were about to ask when he soaks your pussy in it, giving it a quick rinse. Your eyebrows furrow at him. “Not supposed to use soap on that. Water is fine, it’s self cleaning.”

You knew that. You were just surprised he knew that. He hands you his soap with a smirk on his face, presenting himself for you to lather up.

You do so, and you take your time with it, noting each freckle, each dip, each straggly hair with more and more awe. The bubbles on him showing a wet shine and glisten was borderline erotic but like him you appreciated the visuals and continued to take care of him. When he was all lathered, including his dick, you turned him under the now lukewarm wash. You almost move to turn up the heat, but he stops you. You watch as all the bubbles away, him enjoying the last spray under the water. He turns it off and holds your hand as you both climb out of the tub. He grabs one of the towels hanging on his racks, putting it around his hips.

You expect for him to give the other one to you to dry off, but he yanks it from out of reach, and moves it up and down your body, drying you off. He finally hands it to you, and he walks away before you could extend the same offer.

As he got himself dressed in a pair of sweats and an old band t shirt you grab a pair of looser shorts and a plain sweater from your bag, and as you’re finally dressed with your hair situated but damp you watch the door anxiously, knowing it was time to face the music, as you could hear the tv downstairs.

Eddie comes behind you, wrapping his arms over your shoulder. “When you said apologize earlier…”

“Apologize that I didn’t have the decency to break up with him before making a move with you.” You answer.

“Oh, thank fuck.” Eddie lets out a sigh of relief, kissing the top of your head.

“What did you think I meant?” You asked turning to face him.

“Small part of me was worried you were going back to him.”

“What?” Your eyes widen, and your face expresses the exasperation you felt in the very idea of it. “Why would I have slept with you again if I wanted to go back to him?”

“I dunno, you think I’m hot?”

“Well, duh.” You roll your eyes and cup his face in your hands. “Truth is, the moment I realized just picturing you got me off more than being with him did I should’ve called it off.” You tell him, and Eddie’s eyebrows tilted in a wee bit of pride. “I came over for that sleepover knowing you were here. I fucked him on that couch and in his bedroom knowing you could hear me.” Eddie’s pupils dilated and you giggle at the response. You lean in to kiss him, fierce and emotional. “I’m going to apologize for how it happened and how I treated him. But I won’t apologize for us.”

He smiles and wraps you in a hug, allowing you only a few more moments in bliss before you walked down together.

-

The first attempt at the apology could’ve gone better. “Hey, Dylan?” You called, halfway down the stairs as he scrolled through his phone while watching White Collar. Fuck. That was his comfort show.

“Yeah?”

“Hey. I just wanted to come down to apologize.”

Dylan looks over, sees Eddie on the stairs, you by the couch, and his face twists in anger. “Fuck, did you shower together?”

Your eyes widen, and it didn’t occur to you that this might’ve been a bad idea, rubbing your new relationship in his face. It was an accident, but in hindsight in considering his feelings this should’ve been a given.

“Sorry. I just wanted to apologize for how I ended it.”

He looks up at you, and then looks back to his show. “Really? Not for sleeping with my dad?”

“I should’ve broken up with you, first.”

“Fuck, really? You’re telling me you’re sorry that you cheated on me? And that’s all you’re sorry for?”

You nod because it was true. “I stayed with you for the convenience. That was shitty of me, I’m sorry I used you.”

“Wow.” He switches his glance back to the tv, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “This apology might seem a bit more genuine if your neck wasn’t fucking purple.”

Your hands fly up to the hickeys Eddie gave you, and you had forgotten all about them.

“Dad? Nothing to say?”

“I think we should talk about this when she’s not here.” Eddie says, and it seemed like a good idea to you.

“And when will that be?” He shoots up at you, giving you an angry look he’s never once directed at you before. Fuck, this was going to be weird getting used to.

“When she’s ready.” Eddie tells him, and there’s a bit of parental tone in that.

“Sorry. My bad.” He sarcastically bites out. “Sorry dad.” He looks at you. “Sorry, y/n.” He runs up two stairs. “Oh sorry, I mean, sorry step-mom.”

His door slams, and Eddie’s laughter he is holding back barks out.

“Was that supposed to be a burn?” You ask Eddie, side-eyeing him.

“Welcome to parenthood, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, passing you on his way to the kitchen.

Oh. Fuck. Your ex-boyfriend was your new boyfriend’s son.

Shit.

-

As you remain cooped up at the Munsons, Dylan did his best to avoid you. Not that you blamed him, you did sort of break his heart. You had some incoming texts but it felt weird to address the world for the moment, one thing for Dylan to know, another for your best friend and mom to know.

And everyone else after you soft launched your relationship on Instagram two weeks ago.

Would they be able to tell if you just started using Eddie’s hands?

After another mind-blowing round with Eddie in his bed, the door opens to Dylan, his eyebrows raised perplexed. “Can you guys stop fucking for like a day? Jesus Christ, man.” The door slams and you hear him down the hall and down the stairs, “All fucking day!”

You both burst into giggles, getting dressed together and the two of you finding it hard for the laughter not to leave your mouths.

Hours later, laying together watching a movie of his choice, Eddie starts slowly petting his thumb along the exposed strip of your skin along your waistline. Somehow, the moment you were horny he picked up on it every time. You lightly pushed his thumb off, leaving goosebumps behind but the heat already gathering at your center.

“You know he’s just giving you a hard time.” He whispers, his soft deep voice sending chills down your spine.

“Still.” You mutter, doing your best to pay attention to the movie.

Eddie leans back and his legs begin to shake for a few seconds until he sits up. “Ok, what if we give him a bit of space?”

Your eyes squint at the gleam in his eye. “Space?”

“My truck?”

You smirk and take his hands he offers to help you off his bed with glee.

“Going for a drive.” Eddie calls on his way out the door with you following behind him.

“Whatever.” Dylan calls back.

Eddie runs to his driver’s seat, attempting to open it. He pats himself and leans back exasperated. “Fuck. Forgot my keys.”

“I can go get them.” You offer, turning back to the house.

“Or…” Eddie smirks, leaning towards Dylan’s truck.

“Ed…” Eddie reaches for the door, and it opens, and he opens his mouth in mock surprise.

“I can just go get your keys.”

“I taught that little shit to lock up his truck.” He says, shaking his head. “C’mon. Be my dirty girl.”

He climbs in the back seat, his smile radiating a mischievous energy. He knew how much his smile let your guard down. “He did want space...”

“Now we’re talking.”

You climb into his back seat and straddle his hips, leaning in for a wet kiss. Immediately you feel the boner poking through his sweats, and you couldn’t help yourself, you grind down on it eagerly. “Oh, I can already feel how wet you are.” He chuckles, grinning at you with a wild look in his eye.

A laugh huffs out of you, the dimples melting you. He leans in and kisses at your neck, rutting against your heat which radiated against his cock. Eddie sits up, shimmying against the seat to get the sweats off. You move to get your shorts off, but he shakes his head. “Leave ‘em on.”

You tilt your head, and he scoops around the middle of them, putting his dick in and inserting himself into you. You open your mouth as he does, Eddie soaking in your darkened expression. You grind yourself, Eddie grabbing onto your ass as you do so. You lean in for an open and dirty kiss, and he chuckles into it, and suddenly the kiss is dirtier, all teeth and tongue as he ends it with tugging onto your bottom lip.

You gasp onto him in response, and he kisses it to make it feel better. You push your fingers into his hair, nails digging in as you tug at the roots. Eddie lets out a whine, something you haven’t heard yet and your hips start bouncing harder out of sheer pride as you two grab onto each other harder.

Eddie moves you onto your back along Dylan’s back seat and fucks you harder, his sweats barely off and his shirt still on while you’re still clothed. “Fucking whore just always ready for my cock, huh?”

You nodded, the feeling in your stomach already tightening up. “Always wet for you.”

“You take it so fucking well, too.” Eddie keeps rutting into you, his hot breath breathing heavy against your neck as the heat in the car rises. Your hands find their way up his shirt, clawing down his back as he fucks so hard against you. “Fucking slut just loves being whored out. Gonna fuck you everywhere.”

You nod, and he can feel the idea turn you on, you tightening around him in response. “Oh, my little slut likes that idea, huh?” You nod again, whimpering in response. “You love the idea of being found with my cock down your throat in a dressing room or back of a movie theatre.”

Eddie didn’t know how it was possible that you tightened around him even more.

You felt so close to the edge, the orgasm just there.

Chirp, chirp.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

About five minutes later, Dylan gets in and drives away in Eddie’s truck.

You stare up at Eddie with wide eyes and move your hips a little to indicate you still wanted to finish. In fact, Dylan finding you just turned you on.

Eddie chuckles darkly, leaning into your neck. “Oh, you fucking slut.”

-

About 8 hours later, you get home, tossing your keys on the counter.

“How was the sleepover?” Your roommate calls out from the couch, cross legged as she rewatches Buffy for the millionth time.

You hesitate in your answer and turn around to start making yourself some ramen noodles.

“What happened?” She asks, watching your face slowly.

“Uh…” you’re cut off by your phone ringing. It was your best friend. “One sec. Hey, Bethany.”

“Oh my god. You’ve been dead silent for days. I need to hear about it.”

“One sec.” You mute yourself and look up at your roommate. “You wanna hear about my weekend? Here.” You unmute yourself. “So…I fucked his dad.”

“YOU WHAT?”

-

Thank you so much for reading! I love to read comments and replies and tags and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

Those who specifically requested for part 2: @yunnie-f1 @hollster88 @corrodedcoffincumslut @daisyridleyyyy

[hypernova-writes]

Ficmas Day One: Cooking Together ⭐️

Character: Scout's Ma x Reader [WLW]

Themes?: suggestive! Nothing too extreme..in this one😏

A/n: Hi Hi all!! I'm finally back to posting!! And here i bring Ficmas! It'll be 15 special Holiday themed fics with all your favorite mercs (and More!)

"Oh don't worry darlin'! I made sure we had everything we needed for today!"

"Are you sure? I can run down to the store and buy more-"

You were cut off by a kiss to your cheek, making you melt as you watched your girlfriend Sashay her way into her kitchen. You follow behind with a dopey smile on your face.

You don't know how lucky you were to get a woman like her in your life. Cathyrn, or Cathy as you loving called her was just a bombshell, a bostonian women with a Strong personality to her. She absolutely swept you off your feet when you first met.

You were just a simple bakery worker, who met her one day when she came in to get some sweets to send to her son, who you learned was a Mercenary that day. You met Jeremy many times since them, and even have lovingly gotten called Mom or Ma #2 by him.

Cathy laid it on thick. She let it be known that she wanted you that day.

"Hello ma'am! What could I help you with?"

"Mhm..are you on the menu, Sugar?~"

Cue you turning a bright red as you fumble out a response.

Since then, the two of you have been going strong for nearly 3 years now.

And today you were going to be baking with your girlfriend as Jeremy was coming home for the holidays. You shake off your coat, hanging it up and heading into the kitchen.

There Cathy was setting up all the ingredients for the brownies you'd be baking. You rolled up your sleeves and went beside her, preparing to some of the ingredients.

"How long is Jer staying, Babe?"

"Ahh, two weeks! He's off for the holidays! And you already know he's demanding those brownies of yours~!"

You chuckle as you watch her melt down the chocolate, and prepare the rest of the wet ingredients before you get started with the dry ingredients.

The two of you go on with small talk as you get ready to combine the ingredients.

"Honey! Taste this!" You blushed as she places some of the chocolate on her finger and places it infront of you. You look at Cathyrn and you see that smirk of hers begin to spread.

"Oh no no Missy..we got to finish before Jer gets here!"

"Aww..but a little fun won't hurt..will it?.." She purred as she leaned towards you, you pout but take your girlfriends finger into your mouth. The chocolate was good! Creamy and not too sweet, perfect for what you were going for.

"Mhm..look at my good girl~"

You pull away embarrassed by her words and yelped. She giggles at your shyness before pulling out the mixer. You pour the wet ingredients in first and slowly start the mixer.

Cathy stands behind you, humming as she watches as you slowly begin adding dry ingredients. She smiles as she places her hands on your hips, her head in the crook of your neck.

"You look so good doing this darlin'..I could just eat you up~" her hand trails down to press against your lower region, making you jolt slightly. "B-babe.."

"Shh..~, i think we have another hour before our boy comes home.."

She let's you move to bend over and places the brownies in the oven. Her hands never leaving your hips. She chuckles as she gives your ass a small grab making you stand up straight as you close the oven.

She sets the timer and starts pulling you away to the bedroom.

"B-but the brownies!!"

"We have an hour before Jeremy comes and 45 minutes before the brownies are done..~"

She smirks as she looks over her shoulder at you.

"And I can make you cum in 20..~"

[scarletttries]

Roman Roy x Age-Gap! Reader Headcanons:

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Word Count: 2k (warning: mention of Logany child abuse)

Author’s Note: Oh Roman Roy, you're really making me fall in love with your sad little face and your slightly softening heart this season. Thank you for this request, please enjoy these thoughts about Roman Roy with a younger, but still very much legal adult, reader. Also please fill my inbox with Kendall and Roman requests because I am thinking about little else! 😊

Update! Part two here 😀

- Roman Roy has always felt simultaneously like he's never really grown up, and that he was never allowed to be a child. Growing up as the youngest son of Logan Roy he wasn't allowed the chance to make the silly mistakes of childhood folly. Logan had been through that before and frankly he needed Roman to be a serious adult from the moment he could comprehend his father's disapproving glare. Naturally this was an impossible ask of a small, sensitive boy, and led to blows to back of the head when tears threatened to stain the silk shirt he'd been so uncomfortably forced into for another endless press event where he stood like a prop, just desperate not to get in any more trouble or let his dad down worse than he already had.

- As Roman entered adulthood he began to be left out of all the rooms where serious people met and talked about things he could never quite get right; he's wasn't self-interested enough, he didn't have those killer instincts, he couldn't rid his head of the thoughts of how many people would be affected by the company's every move. As Logan and Kendall started to tire of his quippy comments, relegating him to waiting outside for busy work, he could feel himself struggling to meet the thresholds of adulthood that Ken seemed to have carried with him for as long as Roman could remember. This dichotomy of boy and man left Roman feeling like he was never quite comfortable with his age, unsure what lense to see that number through. And then he met you.

- Getting a job at Waystar may have left you feeling a little morally uncomfortable, but you reminded yourself that ten years experience there and you'd be able to get any job in any industry you like, while also being able to pay for your own place. So you pushed that feeling down each day as you entered that office full of rich old white men. Given you'd actually had to earn your place there, rather than just knowing someone, it wasn't long until your work ethic, intelligence and ingenuity had you climbing the corporate ladder in your department and getting you noticed by some of the much higher-ups. Naturally they tried to just take credit for your work, but when the day came that Logan actually asked for an explanation of a report you'd produced, Frank had no choice but to put you in a room with the big boss face-to-face.

- You'd heard nothing but bad things about Logan Roy and as he stared at you in pure contempt while you answered his questions, wondering why his time was being wasted with this young thing from the bullpen, it took all your resolve to hold your nerve, giving short answers and trying not to give him anything to hold over you. Every so often you'd let your eyes flick over his shoulder to the man standing behind him, ten years older than you but pulling at the sleeves of his shirt like a little kid as he watched you face the interrogation, outwardly seeming far more nervous about the situation than you did. After fifteen minutes of watching you hold your head high and speak so confidently about your work, Roman was staring at you unashamedly in a mix of awe, intrigue and disbelief. Despite the age gap you seemed to have all the facets of a self-assured adult that he felt he'd never quite unlocked, while exuding the joyful exuberance of youth he'd never been allowed. He needed to know more about you, so when Logan shouted at Gerri to 'throw you in a dress and bring to this week's investor mixers' he could feel his heart pounding in his chest at the sheer hope and possibility of the answers you might hold.

- You weren't thrilled to spend your evenings surrounded by colleagues, stood to attention in case anyone needed a question answering, but you didn't hate the full railing of designer evening wear that had been sent to your apartment for the occasion. You found yourself trying to blend into the shadows of a corner, unsure of your place in this room and this crowd, wondering if any of the food on display was actually for eating, or if that would be seen as a massive faux pas. Luckily Roman had been keeping an interested eye on you all evening; who you'd spoken to, what you'd been dressed in, the frankly adorable face you'd pulled when Frank handed you a Whiskey twice your age and you took a very unwilling sip, feigning appreciation before slinking away to stick your tongue out at the burning taste. And finally he built up the nerve to approach you now that you were alone, trying to approach casually by picking up a grape from the ornate platter beside you, only to take a bite, realise it was plastic and having to hand it mortified to a waiter that had watched the whole thing from your side. He could feel the blood burning in his cheeks as he watched you try and stifle a laugh, both mortified that you already knew he was a fool and pleased that he'd been able to bring a smile to your face this evening.

"Yeah yeah fuck you." He laughed as he stopped just in front of you, all the words he'd planned to share failing him now that he was close enough to see the beauty in your sincere smile as you shook your head,

"Really I should thank you, now I'm one step closer to figuring out what's actually edible here." You replied with a warmth that almost made Roman recoil, so used to the icy chill he usually received from those around him.

"Well certainly not that whiskey." He nodded to the short crystal glass you'd been trying to put down since Frank handed it to you, tone sarcastic but without the cutting edge he was usually one to deliver. "Why is that the one thing these old fucks actually like to be their own age?" As you laughed again Roman felt a little victorious, he had set himself a pretty low bar but he was confident he was going to be the highlight of your evening.

- As you spent the next week being dragged to different events, you'd always find Roman slinking to your side before the night was through, as if you'd always been old friends, just counting down the hours of everyone else's company. You'd counter his one-liners and then ask him where he'd rather be on a Friday night and make him realise he didn't really know any other kind of night. So when you'd list off your weekend plans, and hobbies and interests, and tell him stories about your friends that had his hyena laugh echoing across the otherwise solemn room, he'd start to realise just how much he was missing out on, and how much he wanted to explore that with you as his guide.

- It stopped being enough, just finding you on odd evenings. Roman would start finding your desk at Waystar, pretending to just be wandering through a junior office coincidentally. He'd glance at his wrist, ignoring the fact he'd forgotten to put on a watch this morning, and comment that as 'technically kind of your boss' he needed to make sure his best employees were actually taking a lunch break, and also were you hungry? Sometimes during the day he'd just melt onto the floor beside your desk, chatting about nothing as you tried your best to type and pay him the attention he so desperately craved. He'd start having all of his meetings in the rooms on your floor so he could wave at you as he walked past the huge glass windows keeping your team contained, an apt metaphor for the walls up inside him he was worried you'd never cross.

- Poor insecure Roman, he'd really try and force himself to ask you out, but ultimately he'd be so afraid of the potential backlash of rejection, that it would be up to you to finally ask if he wanted to grab a drink after work, one Friday when he'd been particularly clingy. You'd take him to a fun, casual bar and watch his eye's light up at people playing darts or ordering fried food and generally the nice, relaxed atmosphere where he didn't feel he had to be the smartest person in the room. Occasionally a friend of yours would walk in a wave and ask how you were doing, and you'd introduce Roman as your friend with no shame or regret and he'd say something funny and get the same rush of pride at making you laugh that he did the first time, and he'd feel like maybe the more time he spent getting to know you, the better he could see himself, still young at heart but not the kid he once was. His lost childhood and misspent youth given a second chance as you offered to see him again next weekend.

- Once you open the affectionate floodgates Roman would be the clingiest koala you can imagine. He'd rarely be as direct as holding your hand, especially not in public, conscious of looking just like his father with a younger woman on his arm. But in the privacy of your little apartment, the one Roman fell in love with the moment he saw it, he'd take a slightly threadbare throw and toss it over the both of you as he all but crumbled into your lap when he wanted to talk about something he thought would make you run. Opening up about his father's wrath and his warped view of himself, glancing up periodically to check you hadn't ran away and left him behind, finding softness in your eyes instead of disappointment and sinking even more deeply into you.

- Roman would think you are an absolute fucking genius for everything you've done for yourself. Worked hard to be the best at your job? Genius. Manage your own bills and do your own laundry? Genius. Carry a water bottle around and make him drink some when he has a headache and somehow he feels better than he has in years? Genius.

- Roman would follow you to hell and back, but you'll have to forcibly remove him from your apartment when you want to go outside. He's never been somewhere that actually felt like home, every soft furnishing and mismatched bowl making him want to haunt your halls forever. If you ever make him a home cooked meal, he'll act like it's not a big deal, but honestly he's crying inside that anyone would go through the effort for him, and that he was the person they chose to be around. Cut to him going thrifting with you to buy five new dishes for you to cook in next time, plus anything else you like.

- Occasionally you'll successfully get him outside for a hike, or a walk, or even a day at a museum or arcade; and Roman will go full toddler on you. Pointing at everything excitedly, running around and shrieking, making sure he was your undivided attention and dragging you by the hand to look at everything. By the time you're home you're ready to collapse, only to notice Roman surreptitiously placing a little souvenir somewhere on your shelf, sneakily bought from a gift shop while you were in the bathroom, before pretending he has no idea how it got there.

- Roman is so enraptured by the incredible, rounded human-being that you are, that eventually some of your self-belief would start to rub off on him, making him feel more sure of himself than he ever has before. Thinking less about the approval of others (except you, he still desperately wants that), feeling confident in his ideas, and no longer feeling like he's stuck in Peter Pan mode - despite falling for someone ten years his junior, Roman would finally feel like he was becoming the man he was always supposed to be, thanks to you.

Let me know if you want a part two of this!

[thelaisydazy]

Hi!! I love love LOVE your fire fighter au SO SO SO much!! I’ve been thinking about how they would react to a fire at your place or the bakery? Or if it burned down?

I am uhh new to requests and tumblr stuff in general so sorry if your requests aren’t open!! 🥺❤️

Hi anon! If the request button is up on my blog, you're welcome to drop in anytime!

I've had the idea for a fire at the bakery for a while now but never finished writing it. I hope you like it!

CW: fire, injury (mentioned)

You’re in the back of the bakery, the air is thick with black smoke. You crouch close to the tile floor, coughing desperately for air. 

You came in slightly earlier that morning. It was just you and a new baker, one you were certain didn’t know a deep fryer from a mixer. He’d shouted for you to help him finish icing a couple cakes, you weren’t the most skilled at it but he assured you it wasn’t for a special order so you just went with it. 

Then he just vanished, not telling you about the already burning bread in the oven and the overused parchment paper left in a heap near the fryer. As you turned to fry a couple donuts, the parchment ignited. It spread so fast you couldn’t escape, you were trapped. 

You were going to die. There was no way you were not going to die here. You lay your head down on the tile, still desperately gasping for oxygen. 

There was a loud crash near the double doors that led to the storefront. You think it might be the shelves collapsing as they’re burned away. You don’t see the shape that pushes through those doors. You don’t hear it as it stomps up to you, crouching low to wrap strong arms around you. 

Air.

Oxygen floods your lungs and your head clears and you catch sight of a firefighter. He’s huge but he carries you as though you might shatter to pieces if he’s not careful. You barely catch a glimpse of a skull under the helmet as you’re lifted into his strong arms. 

---

You wake up in the hospital, the bright lights stinging your eyes. 

“Aye! They’re awake!” A familiar voice shouts before the room fills with people. 

Your vision clears and you recognize the voice belonging to Johnny, and he isn’t alone. Kyle, John, and finally Simon flood the room, all fussing over you. 

“You had us scared to death, love,” Kyle’s gentle voice coos. “We didn’t think you’d make it for a minute there.”

John’s gentle hand finds your head, smoothing over your tangled hair and he offers you a warm smile. Your eyes find Simon though, and the sling he’s wearing. 

“What happened?” you ask, worry settling over your features.

“The bakery was going to collapse,” John answered. “Simon insisted on going in to look for you, he got you out just in time.”

Your stomach twisted at the idea that he'd gotten hurt trying to save you. You open your mouth-

“It’s just a sprain,” Simon’s gravelly voice says. “S’not as serious as it looks. ‘M fine.” 

You can’t help but feel as though he’s lying, but you’re in no condition to argue with him. “What about the bakery?” you ask. “Is it..”

“It’s gone, sweet one,” Simon says. “There was nothing we could do.”