#these thoughts have to go somewhere though you know

[r1kixss]

Sister fucker

warnings: p in v, cursing, jay is readers brother and rikis bsf

Having jay as your brother was so hard because he was too overprotective.

Going out at night? No, someone will attack you. Guy wanting to take you out? No, Jay doesn't trust him.

Jeez. You love your big brother so much, but he can fuck off honestly. Even your own father doesn't care as much as him.

You were glad Jay didn't know you were dating his best friend Riki. He would absolutely crash out and kill him first then lock you in your room and never let you out. He stated so many times how uncomfortable and awkward it'll be for him if one of his friends dated you. You didn't care, Riki was a sweet boy and you loved him.

It's been five months since you two were dating and it was going so great, as long as Jay doesn't find out. You weren't ready to tell your brother yet.

Jay and your parents weren't home... so Riki came over. You knew your parents are on a date and Jay is somewhere out so the house was definitely free for a while.

Obviously, you and your boyfriend were fucking like bunnies. Who wouldn't?

You moaned as your boyfriend thrusted into you, his large hands on your waist. He was enjoying himself so much he didn't even care about being a cool nonchalant guy anymore. He moaned like a bitch, eyes rolling back as you squeezed on his dick.

"Fuck- stop squeezing..." He begged, abs tensing to stop himself from cumming too fast. You whimpered out a small "sorry", trying to relax.

Both of you didn't hear the door downstairs opening and slamming shut, since your room was closed. Skin slapping and moaning filled your room continuously, you were shaking at this point because of how good it felt.

Jay was flabbergasted when he walked upstairs, hearing male and female moans. At first he thought it was his parents, neck flashing red from embarrassment.

Then he realized it was coming from your room and he almost died. God, that was so embarrassing.

He went to his room and closed the door, going to the bathroom to take a long shower and ignore the VERY loud sounds.

You were having a great time on the other hand. Getting dicked down to the point your eyes were rolling back and pussy squeezing on your boyfriends dick so hard he needed to pause for a second to not cum prematurely.

When he started rubbing your clit you were completely gone. You were cumming and trembling, clenching on his cock and he orgasmed right after you.

He collapsed on you, cuddling to you in exhaustion. Both of you were tired and limp, breathing slowly to calm down.

After a while he mustered up the strength to sit up and clean up everything. Then, you both got dressed and got out of your room to go to the kitchen.

You stood frozen in front of the kitchen when you saw your big brother there. Oh shit.

He turned around and saw Riki. He expected anyone, a random guy, not his best friend. He just stared at the boy in shock, then at you, then back at him, then at his messy hair and your red cheeks.

"Oh I'm gonna kill you mother fucker!" Jay yelled, charging at Riki. Your boyfriend screamed, running upstairs.

"Sister fucker!" He corrected your big brother, laughing even though he doesn't know if he'll survive today. Riki locked himself in your room and Jay pounded at the door angrily.

Let's say, both boys were sulking at each other for a while, but Jay accepted you two dating after some talking.

Not even a month later he was happily taking couple pictures for you two for Rikis Instagram.

Hi hi hello!! y'all this is pretty short but that's all i can shit out😔 i don't wanna neglect y'all so.....

[glitterquadricorn]

His name is Chuck - LN4

+summary: what do you get a man that can literally get anything he wants at a moment's notice? why a puppy of course! +pairing: Lando Norris x Reader +warnings: mentions a pregnancy scare, mentions cheating (no cheating happens), semi-edited. a/n: this was supposed to be out months ago... oops. I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

What do you get someone that can afford to get anything their heart desires? It seemed like nothing that came to mind was good enough. She could get him the same thing she did the first year they were together for his birthday, which was a brand new, muted orange, lace lingerie set. But repeat birthday gifts were tacky in her opinion. And it's not like she couldn't get him another one of those boudoir books because the last time she did, it led to a pregnancy scare.

Whenever his birthday did come around, they'd most likely wouldn't even be in Monaco, much less in England. It's sometimes hard to plan things around his racing schedule but she wouldn't have it any other way.

"What are you watching?"

Jumping, placing a hand over her chest, "Jesus Christ, Lando! What is wrong with you!"

Lando laughed as he walked around the couch and sat next to her, noticing she was watching the most recent video Mclaren posted of him playing with puppies. Y/n saw the corners of Lando's mouth turn upwards into a smile. It was at this moment she knew what she was going to get Lando for his birthday. Only problem was where she was going to get it and where she was going to keep it until his birthday.

"I had a lot of fun playing with those puppies," he paused. "It makes me wish we weren't so busy traveling to and from countries for races, you know?"

"I can rearrange and clear some things from my schedule so I could be with the dog at all times."

"There's no need to do that, love."

Y/n saw a flash of sadness in Lando's eyes before he rested his head on her shoulder. Despite him saying she didn't need to move things around; she wanted to because that's what you do when you love someone. So, when Lando went off to go stream with Max, she texted Alex.

y/n -> albonooo

how much do you love me?

albonooo -> y/n

what did you do?

y/n -> albonooo

it's not about what I did, but what I'm about to do.

I need a huge favor.

albonooo -> y/n

I feel like I'm about to regret hearing you out but carry on.

y/n -> albonooo

Lando's birthday is coming up and everyone knows that Lando is a hard man to shop for. Mclaren recently did a video playing with puppies and I wanted to get him a puppy for his birthday.

albonooo -> y/n

okay, so what does this have to do with me?

y/n -> albonooo

I'm glad you asked!

When I get the puppy, I need somewhere to put them until his actual birthday.

albonooo -> y/n

Why me though?

y/n -> albonooo

if you and Lily got another animal no one would question it. In case you forgot, you guys practically have a zoo.

albonooo -> y/n

fair.

Now that she had a place to put the puppy once she got it, the next step was to talk to someone over at Battersea. The first phone call she made, no one answered. No one answering wasn't that big of a deal since they were probably busy, and she'd just call back later. When she called back hours later, the woman she spoke to was less than helpful. In fact, she wasn't really directing her in the direction she wanted to go, and the frustration was growing by the minute. Her fingers rubbed her temple, wondering if getting Lando a puppy for his birthday was a good idea.

And the search for a puppy didn't get any better as the weeks went by. Every time she thought she had found the perfect puppy, something would happen, and she'd be back at square one. But just as she was ready to give up and throw the towel in, she had gotten a call from her aunt saying a friend of hers' dog had puppies five weeks ago and could come and pick one out.

There's just one issue.

This person was in England and she's in Monaco.

When she told Lando she wasn't able to attend the Brazilian GP because of a business meeting back in England, he had reassured her it was fine, but she could tell from his eyes he was a little upset. Seeing that look in his eyes made her feel guilty for lying to him since she's never lied to him about anything in their relationship. She had to remind herself that it's a gift for this birthday and it'll be one that he'll never forget.

Arriving in England, the drive to her aunt's friend's house was long since they lived pretty far out, but she didn't mind as she watched the landscape change from the bustling city where houses were stacked on top of each other to the wide-open meadows of the quiet English countryside.

Soon, the uber was turning onto the long rocky driveway leading up to a large stone home covered ivy. Standing outside was a man who she assumed to be her aunt's friend.

The man held his hand out for her to shake. "You must be y/n! My name is Richard."

"That's me," she smiled. Richard led them in the house and into the sunroom where the sound of puppies playing warmed her heart. "Oh, my goodness! They're all so cute!"

Richard stood off to the side, "If have you any questions, don't hesitate to ask."

"What breed of dog are they?" she asked, sitting down on the floor. The puppies surrounded her until she threw a ball, but there was one that didn't move from her side.

"Jack Russell Terrier." Richard smiled when the one dog that didn't move from her side crawled into her lap and fell asleep. "Seems like you've been chosen."

"Seems like it."

A warm fuzzy feeling washed over her body as she gently scratched behind the sleeping puppy. In her heart she just knew this was the dog for Lando. Pulling an orange collar from her pocket, she fastened it around his neck, making sure it wasn't too tight.

"You got a name picked out?" Richard said, pushing off the door frame, gesturing to her to follow him.

"No. I'll let my boyfriend pick a name since it's going to be his birthday present."

"A puppy is quite the birthday gift."

"Yeah, but when Lando did that video with those puppies, I could see that look of longing for a puppy, but with our schedules it was not practical for us to get a puppy. Now that things have settled a bit, I want to get him the puppy I know he wants."

Richard reached into a drawer and handed her a manila envelope. "Everything you need is in there."

"Thanks again for this. I was beginning to think I wasn't going to find a puppy in time."

"It's not a problem, y/n." Richard came from around the desk, "Let me walk you out."

The two quietly talked about how the season was going as they walked to the front of the house, but the feeling of anxiety was there. And that anxiety feeling was still there when she knocked on the door of Alex's apartment to drop the puppy and supplies off.

"Alex, please tell me I'm not crazy for getting Lando a puppy for his birthday."

Alex, who gently scratched behind the puppy's ear, "Oh! You're for sure crazy-"

From further in the apartment, Lily shouted, "Ignore him, y/n. I think it's cute you got Lando a dog for his birthday."

Alex watched as the woman shifted her weight from left to right, mumbling under her breath and waving her arms around frantically. "Y/n, listen. Lando has been wanting a puppy for the longest time, so this is a good gift."

"You think so?"

"Yes! Now head home before he finds out you've been here."

The reassurance from Alex made the anxiety she was feeling fall off her shoulders. And as she walked down the hall towards the elevator, she crossed her fingers' hoping Alex was right because at this point, there was no going back.

One of the hardest things she's ever done was keep this big of a secret from Lando. There were a few times were she nearly slipped but thankfully caught herself. But Lando clocked her nervousness and made a mental note of her odd behavior. It wasn't like y/n to act this way, so did something happen? Did she cheat and was hiding it from him?

As it got closer to his birthday, she got more fidgety, which again was not like her. Y/n wouldn't cheat on him, would she? No. She wouldn't. He knows her better than herself. Maybe it was something else, and his mind was just making things up.

Lando woke the morning of his birthday and instinctively reached over to the other side of the bed and noticed you weren't there. Instead, was a note.

If you wake up and I'm not there, I only went to pick up your birthday present from Alex. This is around the time you say, 'she didn't have to get me anything,' but I did. I wanted to. I'll be home shortly.

Love, y/n.

He laid there wondering what y/n got him that she had to go pick up from Alex. It had to have been something big that she couldn't have just kept at their place. But then again, if she did keep it at their place, he probably would've found it and ruined the surprise.

"Listen, when I left this morning daddy was still sleeping, so we got to be quiet."

daddy? what?

The door to their shared bedroom slowly opened and the head of his girlfriend peaked from around the corner to check to see if he was still sleeping and when he wasn't, the door quickly closed.

Lando tossed the covers back, walking over to the door. There stood y/n, but his eyes instantly went to the puppy in her arms. "Uh... who's dog is that?"

"You weren't supposed to be awake, but he's yours."

"Mine? What do you mean?"

"Remember when I said I had a business meeting back in England and couldn't go to the Brazilian gp? I did go back to England, but it wasn't for a business meeting. It was to go get this little fella."

"You got me a dog for my birthday?"

"Yeah," she nodded her head, handing the puppy over to Lando. "I could tell you wanted one when you did that video with puppies at MTC, so I went above and beyond to get you a puppy."

"Does he have a name?"

"I've been calling him Chuck because an actor from a tv show I watched as a kid and their name was Chuck Norris."

"Chuck. His name is Chuck."

---

tagging:

@patzammit @mrspeacem1nusone @alexxavicry @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119 @green-thots @2pagenumb @myescapefromthislife @ironmaiden1313 @lottalove4evelyn @mynameisangeloflife @newlifeforus @jxnellat @loloekie @c-losur3 @czennieszn @d3kstar @reiofsuns2001 @sweate-r-weathe-r @itsjustkhaos @hiireadstuff

[scribblesofagoonerr]

Derby Day | Buddy & Monkey: Double The Trouble

just small blurb inspired by yesterday's game.

double the trouble masterlist

“I’m cold, Nana!” You whined, your little body shivering despite the pink puffer jacket wrapped snugly around you.

“I know, sweetheart,” Amanda replied, her voice soft and soothing, “It’s a good job you’ve got a big puffer jacket on to keep you warm, isn’t it?”

“I’m still cold, though. I don’ like it!” You squirmed in your seat, frustration bubbling as the icy rain drizzled down around you.

You weren’t having a good time at all. The cold, biting air somehow seemed to cut straight through your coat, and after a weekend filled with back-to-back games, you were utterly exhausted.

Sitting in the pouring rain at Stamford Bridge, tired, wet and grumpy your mood was quickly going downhill.

Arsenal were losing. To make matters worse, Katie had just been sent off the pitch. That was the final straw.

You’d had enough.

“Boo! Bad ref! No’ like ‘ou!” You shouted, your tiny fists clenched in defiance. Your cheeks flushed with anger as you glared at the pitch, completely unbothered by the looks from those around you, “Bad ref! Bad decision!”

Besides you, Monkey blinked in surprise, “Yikes. Didn’t expect that,” She muttered, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and agreement, “Seriously, ref? That was a bad call!” She said louder, crossing her arms dramatically.

You nodded with vigour, your little scowl growing even deeper, “I don’ like her. That was mean to send Auntie Katie off da’ pitch!” Your voice trembled with indignation as you shifted restlessly, clearly unhappy with the referee’s decision.

“The ref is clearly biased, I guess,” Monkey chimed in, leaning back with an exaggerated sigh, like she was about to give up on everything.

Around you, the atmosphere was a mix of energy and frustration. Fans were singing, chanting, and booing in waves that echoed through the stadium. A few choice words–ones you knew you weren’t supposed to say–rang out loud and clear from some disgruntled supporters nearby.

So, naturally, you thought it must be okay for you to say them too.

“You’re shit, ref!” Your little voice rang out over the Arsenal away end, the words surprisingly loud for someone so small. Heads turned, and a few fans nearby exchanged amused glances.

“You tell ‘em, kid!” One fan chuckled, clearly trying to stifle their laughter.

Monkey froze, her jaw dropping as she turned to stare at you in disbelief, “Oh my God,” She whispered, clearly trying not to laugh.

Nobody–nobody– saw that one coming from you.

“Excuse me, young lady!” Amanda’s voice was sharp, cutting through the moment like the cold rain around you, “We do not say words like that. Where on earth did you hear that kind of language?” Her eyebrows shot up as she turned to face you, her expression full of disapproval.

Without missing a beat, you pointed an accusing finger straight at Monkey, “Monks’ said it before!” You declared with the kind of righteous confidence only a child could muster.

Monkey’s mouth fell open, “What? No, I didn’t! Don’t even try to pin the blame on me, you little worm!” She argued, her tone somewhere between exasperated and amused.

Amanda’s stern gaze shifted to your favourite person, “Monkey,” She warned, her voice full of suspicion.

“I didn’t!” Monkey held her hands up defensively, “I swear, I didn’t teach her that– She must’ve heard it from the other fans!” She insisted, her cheeks turning red.

“Nuh uh, it’ all Monks’ fault!” You disagreed with a stubborn pout, crossing your arms tightly across your chest, “It’ true, Nana. I’m only copyin’ her!”

Monkey glared at you, her eyes narrowing with a mix of shock and playful annoyance, “You lyin’ little…” She muttered under her breath, clearly biting back the rest of her words.

“Monkey!” Amanda cut in, her sharp tone cutting her off before she could finish.

Monkey slumped back in her seat with a defeated sigh, “I wasn’t… I weren’t gonna say anythin’ bad,” She mumbled, glancing away as her embarrassment deepened.

“Don’ like it! Arsenal no win!” You pouted, kicking your little legs in frustration as Amanda tried her best to call you.

“They tried their best, sweetheart,” Amanda replied soothingly, tucking your hood tighter around your face to shield you from the rain.

“Tupid’ Chelsea. Don’ like them!” You huffed, crossing your arms as Monkey snorted beside you.

“Hey, I have a great chant in mind,” Monkey said, her eyes lighting up mischeviously.

Amanda shot her a warning look, “Don’t even think about it, madam.”

Before Monkey could reply, the referee’s whistle pierced through the air, signalling the end of the game. Arsenal had lost after six gruelling minutes of added time.

The result was clear, and so was your stormy mood–it darkened even further.

You balled your little fists and glared at the pitch with fiery determination, “I wanna fight them! They’re meanies!” You declared loudly, kicking your feet as if you were preparing for battle.

“No, no, ah-ah. We don’t fight,” Amanda said quickly, catching you before you could squirm out of your seat.

“But why not, Nana?” You whined, your pout deepening, “They made Arsenal lose! I wanna fight ‘em!”

“No fighting, and that’s final,” Amanda repeated, steadying you with a firm hand.

“Fine,” You grumbled, crossing your arms dramatically, “But I wan’ go see Mummy now. She’s sad. I’ cheer her up!”

Amanda hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she considered the potential chaos you could cause.

“Don’t worry, ‘Manda, I’ll take her down. I’ll make sure she doesn’t start swinging at anyone in blue,” Monkey offered with a grin, already standing up and tugging her jacket on.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Amanda said with relief before focusing her attention back on you, “Right, little miss, listen to me. Your big sister is going to take you down to see Mummy, but you have to promise there’ll be no fighting. Understood?”

You nodded solemnly, sticking your thumb up in a dramatic gesture, “You got it, dude!” You declared before scrambling out of your seat, your little legs ready to bolt, “C’mon, Monks! We gotta go and find Mummy and make her feel happy again!”

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’,” Monkey replied, grabbing a hold of your hand before you could dash off like you had a terrible habit of doing so.

“You’re so slow!” You huffed, stomping your foot, “Havin’ a baby makes you slower, Monks’!”

Monkey raised an eyebrow, clearly amused, “That’s not true. My baby’s literally the size of a blueberry–it’s still tiny,” She explained, giving your hand a gentle squeeze to keep you from wandering.

“Monks’, when you have your baby, will you still play football?” You asked, your wide eyes looking up at her with curiosity.

“I guess,” Your favourite person agreed, glancing down at you with a small smile.

“But who’s gonna look after the baby when you’re on the pitch? Cos’ Mummy will be playin’ too!” You pressed, clearly concerned.

Monkey paused, thoughtful for a moment, “I don’t know yet, Buddy,” She admitted with a small shrug, “But I guess I’ve still got time to figure it out.”

Your eyes lit up with determination, “I can watch them for you! I’ can do a good job cos’ I’m gonna be the best Auntie!” You declared confidently, puffing out your chest.

Monkey chuckled, ruffling your hair, “Oh, yeah? Somehow, I don’t think a three-year-old is the best babysitter for a newborn.”

“I’m nearly four!” You argued, your voice rising in indignation, “That means I’m gonna be older and even better!”

“Alright,” Monkey bit back a grin, shaking her head, “Maybe we can revisit that when you’re officially four years old then.”

You frowned, unimpressed with her response, “Monks–”

“Look!” Monkey interrupted quickly, pointing towards the pitch with a smirk, “There’s Mum! Why don’t you go bombard her with all your questions?”

Your eyes lit up at the sight of Leah, and you let out an excited squeal, “Mummy! Mummy!”

Leah turned around at the sound of your voice, a tired but warm smile spreading across her face as she spotted you barreling toward her. She crouched down just in time to scoop you into her arms, holding you close, “Hi, Buuba!” She greeted, her voice filled with affection.

You scrunched up your nose almost immediately, “Ew, Mumy! You’re all wet. Gross.”

Leah laughed, brushing a stray piece of wet hair from her face, “Well, that’s what happens when you play a full ninety minutes in this lovely British weather.”

“That’s some fine sarcasm,” Monkey quipped from behind you, clearly amused.

Your attention quickly shifted to the pitch, your little face scrunching up with frustration as you spotted several Chelsea players and the referee, “Bad ref! Bad Chelsea!” You shouted, while giving them a death glare.

“Oh, here we go again,” Monkey snickered, try and failing to hide her amusement.

“Put me down, Mummy. I wanna fight them! Let me at ‘em!” You grumbled, thrasing around in Leah's arms, "I will fight 'em all!"

Leah sighed, tightening her grip on you as you continued to wiggle in her arms, “Ah, ah, not happening, Bubba. We don’t fight.”

“But they made Arsenal lose!” You protested, kicking your feet in the air, “I’ teach ‘em a lesson! Tupid’ Ref! ‘Tupid Blues!”

“Because fighting isn’t how we solve things,” Leah explained patiently, kissing your forehead, “And I don’t think anyone will take too kindly to a toddler running riot around the pitch, would they?”

“I’ no run riot, Mummy. I just… I kick ‘em!” You insisted, wanting down as soon as possible.

Monkey snorted, shaking her head in amusement, “Well I don’t think that would go down well either.”

Leah nodded, gently rubbing your back to calm you down, “Exactly. Right now, I just need my Bubba to give me a big hug. Can you do that for me?”

You grumbled under your breath but relented, wrapping your arms tightly around Leah’s neck, “Fine, but if they do it ‘gain, I’ gonna fight ‘em, Mummy!”

Leah smiled, her voice soft and reassuring, “I’m sure you’ll always have my back, Bubba. But for now, how about we just focus on cheering each other up, yeah?”

“Okay, Mummy,” You said with a small smile, nestling into her shoulder as your earlier frustration began to fade away. But then your head shot up, and your eyes sparkled with excitement, “Mummy! Monks’ said when I’m four, I can look after her baby!”

Leah froze, her eyes narrowing as she glanced at Monkey, who immediately stiffened, a guilty look spreading across her face.

“She what?” Leah asked slowly, her tone calm but dangerously sharp, as Monkey took a cautious step back.

“I–uh–gotta go!” Monkey stammered, spinning on her heel and making a break for it, leaving Leah standing there, stunned and you giggling mischievously in her arms.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[cupidbedsy]

୨୧ you were always mine ; lh43

➪ summary: luke has a hard time keeping his friends-with-benefits relationship with y/n just friends-with-benefits, which leads to hurt feelings and unspoken words

➪ warnings: slightly possessive luke, fwb, um... luke lowkey playing with reader's feelings...

➪ word count: 3.4k

➪ cupid's notes: fwb!luke is occupies a spot in my brain that only fwb!luke is reserved for. i would love to talk more about fwb!luke so if you ever feel like yapping away whether it's here or bedsysangel for more nsfw thoughts, i would be more than happy to answer them. takes place in 2023 which i'm sure you could get within a few paragraphs but whatever. anyway, thank you again for 1k, i love all of you so so so much 🥰

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

What started as a strictly platonic relationship between her and Luke quickly escalated into something more. 

The two met during their freshman year of college when y/n dragged her roommate and a few of their friends to a frat party. She was planning on having a drink or two, blending into the crowd but getting to know a few people, simply a ‘welcome-to-campus’ type situation. But when her friends let their high school personalities seep in, she found herself locked in a room with Luke.

Much to her friends’ displeasure though, nothing happened except for a newfound friendship. The two quickly became inseparable, going out to the movies, watching his games, and playing Monopoly in her dorm every Friday night, it was y/n and Luke against the world.

And things were going amazingly, that was until sometime late into their freshman year when the line between friendship and relationship started to blur. She wasn't going to say anything, she was growing accustomed to Luke's lingering touches when they’d part ways after walking to class together and his soft words when he’d bring her into a hug after the team won. She didn’t want them to stop.

Every time Luke's arm wrapped around her waist to pull her back into his chest, every time he'd beg her to wear his jersey to his games, every time he'd place a kiss on her cheek, every time he'd take her hand and put it in his hair so she’d play with his curls, it was overwhelming.

And deep down she knew she was harboring less than platonic feelings for him, he was Luke; beautiful, handsome, cheeky, awkward but confident Luke. She couldn't help but indulge in her mind's fantasies of his kisses against her shoulder or his arms tightly curled around her and cuddling in his bed.

So, she did. She leaned into his touches, into his whispered sayings, and that was how she ended up here, at the beginning of March during her sophomore year, letting Luke drag her through campus with a tight grip on her hand, letting him scare other guys off, letting him push her against the wall as he left open-mouthed kisses along her neck.

Ever since that one night when the two of them had finally succumbed to the feeling of want, no need, Luke had only grown more touchy and possessive; glaring at any guy who looked at her, guiding her to sit on his lap when there were 5 other places to sit, braiding her hair in front of her friends, late-night cuddles with her adorning one of his t-shirts. 

She, along with everyone else, was riding out the high of the team’s win against Penn State even into the following weekend, the win signifying one game closer to a Frozen Four victory. Her group had found their way to a celebratory party that was happening somewhere around campus, it was hot and sticky due to the humidity and all the bodies there, and low and behold she had tagged along, Luke not too far behind her.

Standing in the living room, she was pressed tightly against him, his arm attached to her waist to make sure she didn't stray too far. However, after one too many drinks, she had to go to the bathroom, raising on her tip-toes in order to let him know where she was going. 

Luke being the protective best friend gentleman he was, offered to go with her, making sure nobody would bother her. But she reassured him that she would be fine making her way through the crowd and up the stairs, so reluctantly he let her go, keeping his gaze on her with every step she made.

He kept one ear on the conversation he was having with Ethan, moving his wrist in small circular motions to watch the liquid inside spin around, while the other ear he kept open in case she had called out. Seven minutes, eight minutes passed and there was no sign of her anywhere, he was getting antsy without her by his side. He kept telling himself that maybe there was a line, maybe someone was fucking in there and she had to find her way to a different bathroom.

Yet, he glanced around the living room through the mob of people in search of her and he froze when he saw two figures near the stairs. He narrowed his eyes, glaring at y/n talking animatedly with another guy, a bright smile on her face, a smile that he loved to be the cause of.

He mumbled an excuse to his friend, walking over to where the two were standing. He had abandoned his drink, dumping the rest of the cups’ contents down the sink before throwing the cup away in the nearest trash bag available. 

He neared them, finally being able to pick up bits and pieces of their conversation, but he wasn’t too worried about what they were talking about, just more or less how they were talking. He came to a stop a few feet behind her, scanning the guy from the top of his neatly gelled hair to the bottom of his new dress shoes, what was this, a wedding?

He couldn’t stop the roll of his eyes as he finished examining him, but he could stop the words of sarcasticness from falling out of his mouth, just barely though. 

He closed the short distance to y/n, his arms immediately encircling her waist, chin resting on her shoulder. She didn’t need to look over to see who it was, the firm, comforting hold was enough to let her know. 

Her smile brightened, glancing back to see a pouty, puppy dog-eyed expression plastered on his face with a possessive gleam in his eye. Her attention was entirely focused on the boy behind her now, entranced with the way his hair formed perfect ringlets but was messy at the same time caused by the dampness from his earlier shower and the humidity from the house they were in.

“Hey, Lukey.” 

“Hey.” His voice was low and somewhat hoarse from yelling the past week, the sound making her body tingle in the slightest bit. 

She could feel the way his grip tightened, placing her hands on top of his and lacing their fingers together as she motioned her head towards the guy who was still standing in front of them, “This is Alex, we have a class together.”

He nodded, turning his head so he could bury it into her neck placing soft kisses against her skin. A blush covered her cheeks, turning more and more pink with each kiss. 

“Luke.” She murmured in an attempt to stop him. Usually, she wouldn’t mind the display of affection or the gentle undertone of his jealousy, but in the past few weeks, it had gotten only slightly out of hand, she felt like she couldn’t even talk to a guy without Luke showing up and scaring them off. 

He hummed in acknowledgment, continuing his feather-light kisses, only pausing to eye the guy and what his face was expressing. She fought the urge to sigh, roll her eyes, and mutter an annoyed response. If he wanted to be around every time she talked to a guy, fine, so be it. 

She picked back up the previously abandoned conversation with Alex, talking about their upcoming finals and their summer plans. Luke’s irritation grew as their talking went on, wanting nothing more than to take y/n back to his place and strip every piece of clothing off her. He would even settle for finishing their game of Monopoly from last night, as long as he got her away from the ‘hungry’ gaze Alex had on her. 

So, he proceeded to do the only thing he knew would draw her attention back to him, moving to suck lightly on the one spot that made her weak in the knees within seconds. He could feel her tense for not even a nanosecond before she was melting into him. But little to his knowledge, a fury lit her eyes, her patience completely running out. 

 She stepped forward out of his grasp, saying a polite goodbye to her friend before dragging him out of the house and into the late March weather. It was still relatively chilly causing her to wrap her jacket tighter around her as they walked toward the sidewalk.

“What was that Luke?”

“What was what?” His face was the definition of innocence, a slight grin playing on his lips as he looked down at her.

She huffed as she took in his expression, “You know what. Why couldn’t you just let us talk in peace?”

“He was bothering me.”

“We were just talking about finals, I don’t know how that could’ve been bothering you.”

“He was looking at you like he wanted to tear your clothes apart.” He argued, frustration overtaking him. 

“So?”

“‘So’?” He asked incredulously, staring at her as if she had grown to heads. Since when was she all for someone looking at her the way he was only supposed to?

“Yeah, ‘so’. Luke, we’re not even dating.”

Her words were like a blow to his stomach. He knew they weren’t dating, but he thought at least there was some unspoken agreement that the two of them were simply just the two of them, that no one was going to come in and take the other way from them. 

“I know that.”

“Do you? Because every time I even so much as think about a guy, you’re swooping me into your arms and taking me somewhere. I haven’t had a normal interaction with a guy in weeks.”

So maybe he was being a little over-possessive. He didn’t mean to, really, he just wanted her for himself, wanted everyone to know that she was his and he was hers. 

“You’re leaving soon, Lu.”

His thoughts came to a stop, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion as he stared at her, “What do you mean I’m leaving soon? Y/n/n if you’re talking about Tampa it’s just for the weekend-”

“I’m talking about New Jersey, Luke.” 

He blinked slowly, more confused than before. She bit the inside of her cheek, eyes wandering around so she wouldn’t have to see him taking in what she said. 

“What’re you talking about?” His voice was soft, and careful, not wanting to upset her more than she was. 

“I’m not stupid, y’know? I’ve seen the tweets, the Devils are planning on calling you up after this whole thing is over.” She waved her hand, gesturing to the party that was thrown because of the championship. 

 “You don’t know that for sure.” He kept his words steady, reassuring her that everything people were saying was just rumors, but even he knew that wasn’t true. 

“Even if it’s not, how are we going to continue this when you do eventually go out there?” Her eyes met his, both of them shining with unshed tears, “You can’t expect me to just be a buffer for you.”

“Hey, you’re not just a buffer-”

“But aren’t I? Isn’t that what we’re doing? Using each other until we can find someone we actually want to be with?” Each word twisted the knife in his stomach further, had she really thought she was just a buffer? 

He regained his composure quickly, speaking firmly, “No. You are not just a buffer to me, sweetheart.”

The nickname caused a swarm of butterflies to erupt in her stomach and she did her best to push each one down, far enough that they couldn’t come back. The way he was talking made her feel like maybe she was wrong about the status of their feelings, maybe he really did like her and now she was ruining it, but the voice in the back of her had assured her she was reading this the right way.

“I’m not just going to drop you the second I leave for Jersey, whenever that may be.” He reached for her hand, but she stepped back, narrowly escaping the touch. 

“I can’t keep doing this. You-” she took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say, “You’ll go to Jersey and I’ll be here, there’s no room for me to go with.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true, we both know it. It- we won’t work like this.”

“So that’s it? We’re just not even going to talk anymore?”

“That’s not what I said-”

“But it’s what you meant.” He interjected, eyes still glistening with tears.

“It isn’t. I just- god Luke, you act like you want me to be nothing more than your best friend one minute and the next we’re having sex against the wall!”

He breathed heavily, listening to her speak, “If you can’t make up your mind then I’ll do it for you, whatever this is, it can’t go on. Not when we’re going to be in two different places and certainly not when we feel two different ways.”

“Y/n…” He trailed off, one last attempt to get her to hear him out, but he watched her shake her head and walk down the street, wrapping her arms around herself to protect her from the cold.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

A week later and their not-so-breakup breakup had been the only thing on his mind, not the fact that he had just lost a Frozen Four championship, not that he had just played in what would be known as his last college game, not the fact that sometime in the next few days he would sign his first NHL contract and play in his first NHL game alongside his brother. 

He sat in his hotel room, twisting and turning in his bed as he struggled to fall asleep. Eventually, he gave up, opting to lay flat on his back, staring straight up at the ceiling, making note of every single bump it had. 

In less than 48 hours he would be doing something that he had dreamed of doing since he was younger, since he’d even known it was a possibility. And yet, none of it felt right without her there. 

They had been glued to each other’s side since that party, doing almost everything together; shopping, walking to classes and practices, eating, homework, laundry, any chance they had to be together they were. 

It was a strange feeling, not having her around even emotionally. She was always the first person he reached out to when something exciting happened; he scored a goal, he got a good grade on his test, he saw a squirrel on his way to see her, or when something upsetting happened; he got hit with a puck causing a bruise on his side, his visit to see his brothers got delayed, or he just felt downright horrible.

The thought of him relying on her too much came quickly but left just as fast. It wasn’t like he was dependent on her, he was his own person and she was hers, but she was his person. 

The one who would make him feel better with just a simple smile, the one who engaged in hockey talk because she knew it made him happy, the one who texted him random life updates every so often, the one who wasn’t afraid to let him see the real her. 

Fuck.

Realization slammed into him, hard and heavy like he was just fighting for the puck and got slammed into the boards.

Signing a piece of paper could wait until Monday, but telling his best friend he was in love with her couldn’t.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Y/n watched the game despite her promise to herself not to. Curled up on her bed, the game playing on her computer as she ate ice cream. Going into the third period they were tied and she had mustered up as much hope as she could, but goal after goal, Quinnipiac scored 3, bringing the final score to 5-2. 

She was disappointed at their loss, as much as any other student attending Michigan, but she was even more upset that this now solidified the beginning of Luke’s future. In however many days he would be playing in New Jersey.

And now it was the day after and she was in her room working on a paper for one of her classes, headphones blocking out all the noises around her. She looked between multiple tabs, searching her papers for a Post-it note she had written not too long ago, and continuously deleted and retyped the same thing.

She was just about to start writing a new portion of the paper when a knock and wave of a hand in front of her pulled her from her thoughts, looking over to see her roommate. She pulled her headphones off, letting them rest around her neck, “What’s up?”

“Someone’s here for you.” She didn’t miss the slight smirk she had, which never meant anything good.

She uncurled herself from her spot on the chair, leaving her headphones on her desk before making her way to the door, and opening it. She froze when she saw who it was, Luke in a familiar blue Michigan sweatshirt and gray sweatpants.

“Luke? What’re you doing here?”

“I needed to talk to you.”

She hesitated but the look on his face made her crumble, opening the door wide so he could step into her apartment. They walked towards her room, letting him go in and sit down on her bed as she stood near the door, arms crossed against her chest.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I’m signing my contract tomorrow.”

“Oh, um- that’s amazing, congrats, Lu.”

He nodded, looking at the ground. A few beats passed and all he could think about was the urge to pull her in for a kiss. He wasn’t known for his impulsiveness, or maybe he was and he just never made it a big deal, but now? He couldn’t help but act on the urge, so he did. 

He took a few steps forward, pushing the second-guessing thoughts out of his mind, coming to a stop when he towered over her completely, hand reaching to cup her face and brush his thumb across her cheek.

She flushed, staring up at him with wide, almost doe-like, eyes. He leaned down, bringing his lips to meet hers, instantly causing her to turn into a puddle of mush. She kissed back just as eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck like they had been itching to do it for the past week. 

When she felt her breath running out, she pulled away, allowing her forehead to rest against his, both of them panting softly as they tried to steady their breathing. Luke’s gaze was entirely on her, studying the way her eyelashes were laying delicately on her cheeks, her light freckles spread across her nose, the pieces of hair that escaped from her ponytail. 

“You were always mine.”

Her eyes shot open at his quiet murmur, looking at him like he had just given her the answers to every single exam she still had to take. She gulped, trying to reign her thoughts in, “What?”

“You were always going to be mine, y/n/n. From the moment you bumped into me at the party, from the moment we first watched Miracle together and you cried, from the moment you stole 200 bucks of my money the first time we played Monopoly, from the first time you put on my jersey, I knew that I had to make you mine.

“And I know it’s taking me a long time, way too long, but I needed you to know, now more than ever. It might be too late, but I just-”

“I was always going to want to be yours.”

Her admission flowed through him, easing his worries immensely. He breathed a low chuckle, “Thank god. I was starting to think I was going to have to say the whole speech I prepared.”

“There was more?”

He nods sheepishly, but it was better to be over-prepared than not prepared enough, he would’ve said the whole thing a million times if it meant she would say those words.

“Are you going to let me hear it?”

“That depends… what do I get if I do?”

“A kiss?”

He hummed in thought, “I don’t know, baby. I put my blood, sweat, and tears into writing this.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Hughes.”

And who was he to say no?

꒰ NEW JERSEY DEVILS TAGLIST ꒱

@toasttt11 @chiblackhawks @nicole01-23 @auriesphantom @pucks-goals-penalties @dancerbailey3 @rowdyluv @petite-potato4 @thehuggybearslover @absolutelyhugh3s @kei943 @dyslecticdutchman @this-ass-is-eikonic @delilaahh9 hh9 @winterbarnesblog @fantillisgirl @macklin-celebrini-71

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[postmoe]

So, I'm getting around to doing Amphoreus and... we're at the bath house... and there is a special bath house for heroes.... can you imagine being taken in there without anyone else knowing just to be banged senselessly?

With Mydei and Phainon x Reader

girl we on the same wave length. I just added a bit to something i had going but didn't like it enough for the story i wanted lol.

non-con, helplessness, a bit of choking, bathhouse, ambrosia, master/servant dynamicish

Translations off google so (I went the Ancient Greek route)... Dominus - Master. He philtatē - dearest love. (feminine).

.

Amphoreus is full of many heroes, and though they are all strong and worthy of their titles, there are some that put true unease in others.

Like Mydei. Even with Phainon right next to him, trying to lighten the mood in the room, people still fear his sharp looks and dominating muscles. Everyone has seen what these two heroes can do, and no one wants to be on the wrong side of them.

Not to mention how protective they are of each other. Back and forth arguments seem like nothing when their anger is truly displayed, especially at people who speak ill of their partner.

And then there's you, their precious, priceless darling. A warning isn't good enough if you were to be picked on, broken bones, lost jobs, people are still debating whether or not the person who moved lands is dead or still alive.

So, when you're dragged from your station, or told to meet them somewhere, everyone drops everything to make sure you comply. Which is why, even if people did see you be hauled into the heroes bathhouse, you know calling for help would do nothing good.

That's why you stand there, sweat soaking through your white road, nipples poking into wet, sheer fabric, face stoic and hands holding a large jug of wine like it were any other client. They seem entertained enough by each other, hopefully today they will just leave you alone.

However, as Mydei pulls away from the heated kiss, grinning drunkenly your way and leaning his head against the edge of the in ground bath, you know there is no such luck. "He philtatē, come drink ambrosia with us," he practically moans, Phainon grinding his naked body in his lap, kissing and lapping up the sweat of his lovers neck.

You make a point to keep your eyes facing forward, not wanting to give them the thought that you're indulging in their actions, "No, thank you, dominus. I am working right now." That's not to say you would if you weren't on shift, but, it's as good an excuse as any other.

Phainon finally frees his mouth from the other's body, sculling the rest of his drink, red ambrosia trickling over his lips, down the cleft of his neck, and over the pecs of his chest before mixing with the bath water and disappearing. His eyes are hooded, cheeks dusted red with the effects of alcohol and lust, "Why the sudden harsh treatment, He philtatē, you were never this reserved when we first met."

With a bow of your head, avoiding his gaze, you say, "Kindess is part of the job. I welcomed you in, my job is done."

"Boo~" Phainon whines, rolling off of Mydei and sitting next to him in the water. "You're not like this after work or with your colleagues," he mutters, now holding out his empty cup, "Refill, please!"

You're not even going to ask how he knows what you're like when they're not around, already having the sneaking suspicion they've been following you and paying someone to tail you when they're gone. You crouch down to aim the jug into the goblet, only for Mydei to snatch the wine from your hands which makes you cry out a, "Hey!"

Within moments, you're being dragged into the water by a laughing Phainon. You thrash and splash the water as you're manhandled, thick fingers pulling your clinging robe over your head, leaving you in thin panties and the gold chains around your torso to help support your breasts. You're held tightly against his chest, coddled like a sweet pet until you stop moving so violently. Once you calm down enough, Mydei hands a cup to Phainon, who then promptly presses the rim to your tightly sealed lips, "Ambrosia~ Ambrosia for He philtatē~"

His other hand is roughly grabbing your jaw, the ache forcing your mouth to part enough for the liquid to slip through. You grunt, swallowing the sweet drink, a lot of it falling down your front, until the cup is empty. His hand is swaying in front of your face, the motion annoying you so you backhand the goblet, it flying and dunking in the water. He's so out of it that it takes him a minute to realise what you've done, the man laughing and messily petting your head in a playful manner.

Mydei exhales, sinking further into the bath to relax his muscles, "The whole trip he wouldn't shut up about you. 'When can we see (Y/n) again?' 'How much longer until we leave for (Y/n)?' 'Do you think if I send a letter, it'll reach her before we get back?' Couldn't even focus on fighting."

Phainon cheekily pinches your cheek, directing your attention back to him, "Funny he says that. Just whose name do you think he was calling every night we fucked?" You grab at his wrists once they start to slip to your cunt, fingers brushing your clit while your strength did nothing to hold him back. He didn't even acknowledge it, choosing instead to ask, "We have those new heroes, too. Should we introduce them to our private hole?" A wince escapes you as he slips a finger in, your pussy clenching from the intrusion. He swirls his digit around before adding another, "And what of Anaxa? Where is he?"

"Anaxa is still busy, he won't be back for another month," Mydei steps from the tiled ledge and stands in front of you, his large hands stroking over your shoulders, cupping your breasts in his palms and grazing the nipples with his thumbs. His eyes follow every move with a predatory gaze, "They certainly have proved their worth..."

You zone out as they talk about you like some object. Gritting your teeth, frustrated tears mix with the sweat on your face as you silently cry. What sort of a God or Titan or Deity would allow something such as this to happen to one of their subjects? It just proves how lost your soul really is from everyone else's. Everyone was right, you were abandoned by the titans the moment you were conceived.

Mydei pushes himself against your front, sandwiching you between him and Phainon so he can easily kiss your tears away, "Now look what you've done, you made her cry."

Phainon coos against your hair, his fingers hooking inside you to get a jerking reacting out of you, your hips trapped between the two, "It's okay, He philtatē, we won't share you if you don't want to. It actually makes me happy to see your heart is ours alone."

That's absolutely not true.

"Just be good for us tonight or else we might have to get them to 'help' hold you down," Mydei chuckles drunkenly as if his joke was actually something worth laughing at.

It pissed you off how he could just say something like that and get away with it. You pushed a sturdy hand against his chest, halting him from your boldness. (E/c) eyes look to the door, longing for anyone to enter and stop this madness. Your voice is quiet, moisture inside your mouth gone from the alcohol, bath heat and sexual actions of these men, "One day... One day someone will stop you."

The amused rumble from Phainon's chest made your heart sink. Then, when Mydei's fierce eyes sharped as his grin showed too many teeth to bring an intense foreboding to flood your veins, you shrank back into Phainon as he suddenly seemed to be the lesser of two evils. Mydei scoffed and gripped the base of your neck, your chin tilted up on the curve of his thumb and index as he held you just hard enough to make you wheeze and meet his eyes, "That day won't be a day you're alive."

When he finally let go, the world around you went white and your head couldn't tell which way gravity was holding you. Thankfully, you had your two heroes to keep you safe.

[ffaelix]

the batkids are all arsonists. not, like, on purpose (well, mostly not on purpose), but something about fire and chaos seems to follow them wherever they go. bruce is exhausted, alfred’s threatening to retire, and no one will admit they’re the problem. but they all are.

dick is a human disaster when it comes to fire. he swears it’s never his fault, but somehow, flames just happen around him. one time, he was trying to impress a date with a candlelit dinner on a rooftop. super romantic, right? except gotham’s wind did what gotham’s wind does, and two minutes later, there were tiny fires everywhere. when bruce asked why he thought a rooftop candlelight dinner was a good idea, dick just shrugged and said, “it’s gotham, it’s already mostly on fire anyway.” bruce was not amused.

then there’s jason, who doesn’t even try to deny it. he’s the only one who uses fire on purpose, and he has zero shame about it. take the time he literally firebombed a warehouse full of black mask’s weapons. bruce was like, “you can’t just blow things up, jason!” and jason just looked at him and said, “sure i can. i did it, didn’t i?” another time, he got into an argument with bruce about restraint, and his actual response was, “fire solves everything. name one problem fire hasn’t solved for me. i’ll wait.” bruce did not have a rebuttal.

tim, though, is the sleeper agent of the arsonist squad. his fires are never intentional, which is maybe more concerning. like, he’ll be working on some dangerous experiment at 3 a.m., completely running on fumes, and then boom, something catches fire. “it’s fine,” he always says. “totally under control.” (it’s never fine. it’s never under control.) there was one time he set off a controlled explosion in the cave, and alfred just deadpanned, “master tim, the next time you feel the urge to ‘experiment,’ kindly do it somewhere that isn’t my kitchen or the batcave.” tim promised he’d try, but no one believed him.

and damian? damian is the wildcard. he doesn’t mean to start fires all the time, but he’s definitely more comfortable with flames than any kid should be. one time, alfred caught him with a blowtorch in the backyard, trying to “practice survival techniques.” when alfred asked where he even got a blowtorch, damian just said, “you don’t want to know.” another time, he tried to enhance the bat-signal with fireworks because “it needs to be more intimidating.” bruce nearly had a stroke.

and don’t even get alfred started. that man keeps at least five fire extinguishers within reach at all times. if he hears so much as a match strike, he’s already there, extinguisher in hand and murder in his eyes. he’s confiscated flamethrowers, lighter fluid, sparklers, and a bottle of whiskey jason once tried to turn into a molotov cocktail. (“it was for science,” jason argued. alfred was not buying it.)

bruce, meanwhile, has just accepted his fate. no matter how many “no fires in the house” rules he makes, someone is going to find a way to set something on fire. at this point, he’s pretty sure they do it on purpose just to mess with him. and honestly? they probably do.

[calzone-d]

So just saw your post about steve being an absolute much and i wholeheartedly agree. On that note i also believe he talks you through it so good when he fucks you. He comes off so poised to everyone else but when he’s with you? He gets so nasty and cocky with it, it’s all “that’s right baby take it” “oooohh is that right, that feel good?” “just let go sweetheart come for me” and when you get close and start gasping he smirks and mocks your little oh oh oh’s, like he knows he’s big and he knows he fucks you good, he just can’t help it

Thoughts?

pairing: Steve Rogers x afab!reader

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, reader has a vagina, steve has a filthy mouth

a/n: 100% Think about it- Steve loves to help. Loves to help others, loves helping you take his cock. and yeah he’s americas sweetheart but he deserves a little moment to be cocky too!!

not proofread!

absolutely nsfw below the cut im warning ya

“Yes, Sir. Thank you for coming out tonight, your donation makes a world of a difference.”

Steve’s voice is firm but sincere as he shakes the hand of another rich friend of Tony’s. They’re all making their way to the door as the night dies down. Not fast enough, though. Not fast enough to where you can whisk Steve away upstairs like you’ve been dying to do for the past few hours.

You toss back the rest of your drink when Steve moves to wrap his arm around your waist. He brings his lips to your neck, peppering the soft skin with little kisses. The feeling makes you laugh, the only people in the room left are a few of the other Avengers so he clearly has let go of his inhibitions. The asguardian mead kind of helped that along, too.

“Let’s go upstairs, need to feel that sweet pussy wrapped around me, sweetheart.”

His words cause you to choke. Your face flushes as you turn in his arms to set your drink down on the bar. He gently pats your back with a blush that matches yours.

“Sorry, honey. You okay?”

You chuckle thinking of how his filthy mouth always catches you off guard. America’s Golden Boy definitely has a golden tongue to match, but you’re the only one who holds that knowledge.

On your tiptoes, you put a hand on the back of his neck to pull his face down to your height. Your soft lips brush the shell of his ear,

“You want my pussy, baby? That’s what you need?” you whisper with a kiss to his ear.

His blush ripens just as it began to fade. He nods, preoccupied with making an escape plan, always the Captain.

Steve drags you out a side door and makes a beeline to the elevator. The second the doors shut, his hands are on your hips. His fingertips squeeze you as he starts speaking again.

“Bet that cunt’s drippin’ for me, huh?”

His Brooklyn accent always comes out when he’s like this. Before you have a chance to respond his fingertips are slipping up your dress. They skate over the inside of your thighs before pulling at the waistband of your panties.

“Lemme feel, honey.”, a thick finger slips between your folds. A wicked smile spreads across his flushed cheeks.

“Sweetheart… already so wet for me..” the tip of his finger catches your clit and makes you whimper.

Steve pulls his fingers out right as the elevator dings and the doors open. You clear your throat and follow him to his room. Steve’s pink lips wrap around his finger as he unlocks the door, mumbling something about how you taste.

He’s pulling you in as soon as the door opens, hurriedly pulling down the zipper of your dress.

“Need this off, honey girl. Now. Panties too, need to taste that pussy again.”

Without a second thought you shimmy the dress off and kick your panties somewhere behind him. He drops to his knees before you and crawls the rest of the way, backing you up against the wall.

Steve unbuttons his shirt and yanks it off, “Got me crawlin’ on the god damn floor for that pussy. Like a pet.”

You bite your lip at that. Your hands reach out to make a home in his perfectly styled hair. Steve settles on his knees, pulling one of your legs up and over his broad shoulder.

“Am I your pet baby?” You chuckle softly and nod.

“Mhm.. a good pet too, Stevie.”

He groans and leans forward. One of his hands comes up and spreads your folds open, putting every inch of your soaked pussy on display for him. His tongue sets a path from your quivering hole up to your hardened clit.

Pulling away the slightest bit he groans “Fucking hell”. Steve’s dirty mouth isn’t new to you, but always takes you by surprise. Always makes you blush just a little harder.

Steve makes a rhythm of poking at your opening with the tip of his tongue and using it softly against your clit. He’s obscene with it, too. A mixture of your slick and spit coating his sharp cheekbones. He slurps and moans as you near your orgasm.

“Gettin’ wetter, honey. Gonna cum for me? You can cum, sweetheart. Been so good to me tonight.”

“Gonna make you cum on my tongue, honey. Don’t worry, just let go. Lemme taste it, pretty girl.”

His words are muffled by your cunt but it makes you squirm all the same.

The tension snaps when he shoves his tongue as far as humanly possible inside of you. His pointed nose creating the perfect amount of friction against your throbbing bud.

“That’s- that’s it.” He pants into your sensitive folds. He slows down, pressing gentle kisses against your clit. “So sweet, honey.” another kiss. “Could taste this” another lick “this pussy all night.”.

You don’t miss the way he wobbles just the slightest bit when he stands to pull you into his arms. He pulls you in for a kiss that’s all tongue. The taste of you on his tongue makes you moan.

Steve kisses you all the way to his bedroom. Once he has you on the bed he shoves his pants and underwear off, not bothering to make a show of it. His cock is heavy and wet, the tip glistens as the weight of it makes it hang down in front of him.

You instinctively spread your legs, your arms reaching out for him.

“Stevie..”

He’s over you in an instant, nose nuzzling your cheek, then the flushed skin of your neck.

“M’here sweet girl. I’ve got you.” he murmurs. He wastes no time in bringing the tip of his cock to your soaked folds. He runs the tip up and down, making sure he’s wet enough to not hurt you.

“This pussy will be the death of me, honey. You hear me?”

You nod and grab at his back, holding him to you.

He slides in, and you both moan at the feeling.

“Just needed this- fuck- this sweet pussy on my cock. Needed you wrapped around me sweet girl.”

Once he’s balls deep he doesn’t even pull out to thrust into you again, just grinds the head of his cock against your cervix. The trimmed hair at his base adds to the sensation of his pelvis putting pressure on your clit. His heavy balls are pressed flush to the dip of your ass cheeks.

“Ohh fuck. Got me- got me so weak, honey.” he pants. One of his hands goes to the back of your head, pulling your face into his neck. You discovered pretty early on that he was so sensitive there. The second your lips touch his neck he’s a goner.

“You like that though, don’t you? Knowing you’ve got- mmm- got your captain so weak for you?” He pulls out almost all the way before slipping right back in, all the way to the hilt.

Steve tilts your hips backward just an inch or so, and the next move of his cock puts sweet pressure on your g-spot. The feeling makes you yell out, frantic hooded eyes searching for his as you grab onto his biceps.

“There it is, I got you, sweets. Just-“ another thrust, “Just taking care of my best girl.”

You whimper at the pressure on your g-spot. “Oh, steve! I- fuck.. So good..”

“I know baby, found your spot, huh?” he smirks as he hits it again. You nod as your eyes flutter shut.

“You can- you can take it, hun. That’s it..” he murmurs against your hair.

“I’ve got you sweet girl, just take it.” your moans only spur him on. “I know, I know, shhh. Taking it so well, sweets. Taking your captain’s cock.. god damn.. Squeezin’ me so tight.. Just creamin’ on my cock baby.”

He leans back and his thumb finds your clit. He thrusts more shallow now, jackhammering against your g-spot and putting you right on the edge.

“So sensitive here baby, such a pretty pussy. Love this pussy, oh fuck.. Got me- got me so close sweet girl.”

You lock your ankles behind his back, making him fall back over you.

“Cum in me Steve, I- fuck!- need it baby. Steve, please.. need- ohh- need it so bad.”

He drops his weight on you, face buried in your neck as he fucks you, spurred on by his most primal desire.

“Steve, I need to- m’gonna cum.. I’m.. I’m oh fuck!”

The way your pussy clenches on his cock sends him right over the edge.

“Shit, oh shit. m’cumming, honey. Ohh my god.” he doesn’t stop thrusting even as his cock twitches and empties itself deep inside you.

“Take it,” he buries himself as deep as possible. “Take your captain’s cum. All for you, sweet girl. Fuckkk, take it. Ohhh that’s it…”

He swallows thickly, nudging his nose against the side of your neck.

“Love..” he pants. “Love you, y/n. My sweet girl. Love you so much.” his voice is raspy.

He doesn’t even try to move. Your hand comes up to scratch at the back of his scalp and he wiggles a little against you, getting comfy for a minute.

You press a few kisses to his sweaty temple “Love you too, Stevie.”

He lays there on top of you until he goes soft and you’re poking him in the ribs to get him to move.

“Wanna shower, stevie. Get up.”

When he pouts, you giggle and press a soft kiss to his lips. After he slips his cock out of you, he uses his thumbs to gently spread your lower lips. He ghosts his thumb through his cum that’s starting to leak out of you. When he’s done admiring his handiwork he pulls away and brings his thumb to his lips.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, honey.”, he murmurs and pulls you to your feet.

In the bathroom, he gets the shower started while you pee and attempt to clean yourself up with some wipes.

“Jeez, Steve.. there’s just so much of it.”

Steve snickers and pulls the shower curtain back for you. “Been savin’ it for you, babe.” he says with a cheesy wink.

You laugh and fake gag, “Gross”. Steve leans in and presses a kiss to your scrunched nose.

—-

a/n: thanks for reading! likes/reblogs/comments are always appreciated, and requests are always open!

[munsonsmixtapes]

Filthy? How about Reader helping Eddie clean his damn room 🤣 (mine is not much better)

You don't know why you agree to help him. Eddie's room is quite possibly the worst you've ever seen and you don't want to judge him because you know that people's living spaces can often be abandoned for various reasons, but jesus christ is it absolutely horrific. You can't even see the floor so you stay in the doorway, terrified of what's inside.

Eddie steps in without a second thought then holds a hand out to you that you reluctantly take as he pulls you inside. You grimace as you look around, piles and piles of clothes with various other items among them.

It's so overwhelming that you don't even know where to start. Eddie is by his desk, sorting all of the stuff that sits atop it, muttering t o himself. You know he's not going to be any help, so you just decide to start somewhere, hoping to somehow be able to see the floor again.

There's a magazine on top and you flip it over to find a half naked woman on the cover. Curiosity getting the best of you, you flip through it, only to find that some of the pages are stuck together. Upon your discovery, you toss it back down in disgust, looking for something to wipe your hands on.

"Jesus, Eddie," you grimace and he turns around just in time to see the magazine land back down on the pillow.

"That's not mine," he tells you with a shake of his head. "That's Gareth's. He must have left it here." He's telling the truth, but you're not sure if you believe him. You shouldn't be surprised since that seems like the exact kind of thing he'd do. It's not like you care to argue anyway. There are much more important things to do.

Once his desk is clean, together, you and Eddie wash and dry and put away all of his clothes. It's definitely the most domestic thing you've done together and once you've gotten into a groove, you have to admit that you don't hate it.

You like doing these kinds of things with Eddie. You like Eddie. You're sure he already knows this, though since you haven't exactly been subtle about it, but you're pretty sure he likes you to.

And he does. He likes you a lot and to be honest, you're the only person he'd ask to help him because he knows you wouldn't judge him, and you didn't. You made faces, sure, but you never actually said anything. You just helped him with that pretty smile on your face without a single complaint.

And once the cleaning is all over, you both lie on his freshly made bed together, smiling at each other as a result of your job well done. Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you to his chest, hoping that he'll finally get the guts to tell you how he feels.

[bedlam-barbie]

Crawling back to you

Or Attention part 2

Part 1

Pairing: In Ho x recruiter!reader ; slight salesman x recruiter!reader for the plot

Warnings: hurt no comfort,some suggestive language, reader has BPD, mentions of mental illness

Summary: 3 months after that faithful night in the club, they meet again, only this time, the Frontman was not going to let her go so easily. 

Word count: 4.2k

Author’s note: I am so beyond grateful for all your comments and likes! I was truly not expecting for you to like my work. I was half expecting it to flop lol. Anyway, I am unsure where to go with this story if I should leave it as a two part or write more. So please tell me if you have any ideas or suggestions regarding the direction it should go in. In other news, it kind of got me excited to write for the Salesman as well. So please let me know if you are interested in a Salesman centric one shot. The Salesman’s name will be Gong Yoo as I am not creative enough.

The room was immaculate, every detail meticulously curated, as though plucked straight from the pages of an opulent design catalogue. Rich, dark drapes cascaded elegantly over the towering windows, leaving just enough of an opening to let the faint shimmer of stars peek through, casting a delicate glow into the space. Furniture in nude fainted colors. The air carried a quiet sophistication, but it felt almost surreal. If she didn’t know any better, she might have believed she’d just had sex in a high-end furniture showroom.

She quietly put her bra and underwear on, starting her search for the rest of the clothes throughout the apartment. The man she had just slept with was watching her every move from the top of the king size bed, an amused smirk on his lips.

“You know most women would jump at the opportunity to spend the night with me”

“Please, you already know I am not most women” she replied rolling her eyes. “Have you seen my shirt?”

“And what do I get if I help you?” he asked coily, slowly moving towards the woman like a predator watching its prey.

Her face turned to meet his, his eyes taunting her looking for a reaction. She tilted her head and gave him an innocent look. One of her hands sneaked around his neck, her fingers playing with his dark locks.

“Nothing” she said simply and then yanked him by his hair downwards. “We have an agreement, Gong Yoo, and I don’t very much enjoy when my toys overstay their welcome.”

“Tsk, and here I thought we were friends” the man replied amused, a sharp knife appearing suddenly, its blade now resting just under the woman’s chin.

Her soft giggle filled the room at the sight of the blade. This was exactly why he was her perfect match in her nocturnal activities. She did consider the Salesman, a friend of sorts. Well, as good of a friend a psychopath can be. Her head moved slightly, enough for the knife to press between her lips. Her tongue danced around the silver metal.

“And I thought you knew who you were sleeping with” she said casually. “Now, I do need to leave, we have an early flight tomorrow morning.”

She let go of his hair and took the sharp object out of her mouth. His body was still pressed to hers, wearing nothing and God he did look good. But somewhere in the back of her mind, was a familiar older face, chiseled to perfection, dark orbs full of secrets that could stare into her soul who knew her inside and out. She quickly dismissed the thought, focusing on the scene in front of her instead.

“How could I forget? It’s not everyday that the games celebrate 30 years. How would you like to be my date?”

She was not easily surprised by the man. She had come to know him almost better than herself in the last 3 years. And much more in the last three months. It all started once the games of 2020 ended and they went out for their yearly blackjack event. The night began as a way to hurt their boss, but the more days had passed she realized she liked the Salesman’s company. Not in a romantic sense, but definitely sexually. It was a welcome distraction from work stress and more importantly. From him.

It was almost unbelievable how she let a man toy with her emotions again. A part of her wanted to yell that she was over the man behind the black mask, that his rejection did not sting at all, that she simply went home with the Salesman that night because she wanted to. Not out of vengeance. Gong Yoo had become in a weird way her safe space. While the man was deeply disturbed, she saw him as predictable. When the words regarding the gala left his mouth, she was speechless. He could read the confusion of her face and smirked.

“Well, darling, we both know why we started our little randez-vous. The Frontman will be there, no doubt with a date, so I believe it would be in our best interest to show up together.”

“Interesting, and what is in it for you?”

“Oh, I am sure you can find a way to thank me that night” his eyes were dark and intense, watching her every move.

“God you truly are a narcissistic psychopath, huh?” she asked giggling like a schoolgirl.

“And you are such a borderline cliché, my dear” his smirked grew. “Do we have a deal?”

“Absolutely.”

There was an undeniable comfort in the rhythm they had fallen into. Their days followed a familiar pattern: each would go about their routine, which, now that the games were over, mostly revolved around endless paperwork and researching potential recruits for the next year. The office was stark and quiet, tucked away in the bustling heart of Seoul. Some days, the real fun began after hours. They’d invent new ways to compete, often over the most ridiculous games, challenges that almost always escalated until one—or both—ended up naked in her apartment or his. The routine was theirs, equal parts playful and intimate, a strange solace in a world that had once been chaos.

The woman couldn’t lie, not even to herself—she wasn’t over the Frontman. In fact, she hated how deeply he still had a hold on her, so much so that even hearing his name felt like a fresh wound being reopened. Every thought of him sent a volatile mix of emotions crashing through her—jealousy, pain, anger. She presumed it was all of them but mostly she felt worthless, abandoned. The demons in her mind weren’t new; they had taken root long ago, feeding on every rejection, every unanswered plea. And every time she recalled that morning, it brought her back to feeling like a forgotten child, desperate for even the faintest trace of love. But she wasn’t that child anymore. She had stopped begging a long time ago.

So his invitation, although unexpected, felt like the right call. Although not wanting to admit it even to herself, it gave a strange sense of comfort that Gong Yoo would be there by her side and she did not have to face their boss alone.

As they stepped into the dimly lit ballroom, her eyes instinctively scanned the space, searching for the black mask—and, more importantly, the man behind it. It was clear he played a significant role in the event’s orchestration. The room demanded respect. Every detail, from the grand chandeliers casting a warm, subdued glow to the meticulously placed furnishings, exuded deliberate perfection. The air was crisp, almost unwelcoming, with stone statues lining the room, their lifeless eyes seeming to watch her every move with an air of expectation.

A symphony of classical music filled the space, the notes rising delicately from a live band tucked into a corner near the expansive dance floor. The atmosphere reeked of opulence and elegance, yet an undeniable chill lingered, making the grandeur feel eerily detached. Conversations hummed softly, muffled by the anonymity of the masks each attendee wore. The VIPs, ever distinct, were adorned in elaborate gold masks, while the guards stood out with their pink ones. Management’s masks, jet black and severe, carried an air of authority, while hers—and those of the other recruiters—were a deep burgundy, striking but unmistakably subordinate.

She opted for a long gold dress. Her gown was a statement in itself, perfectly at home in the opulence of the ballroom. The fabric shimmered like molten gold under the dim light, every movement catching the soft glow of the chandeliers above. The structured corset-like bodice hugged her figure, cinching her waist and giving her the regal posture of someone who belonged in a room like this. The neckline swept off her shoulders, its draped detailing softening the otherwise commanding presence of the gown, leaving her collarbones and shoulders beautifully exposed.

The skirt flowed effortlessly to the floor, its subtle draping at the hip enhancing her curves and giving her an almost statuesque elegance. It was the kind of dress that didn’t just demand attention—it commanded it. Her strappy gold metallic sandals clicked against the marbled floor. Gong Yoo wore a burgundy suit perfectly tailored to his measurements, looking almost like her perfect accessory. They walked arm in arm to the bar.

“You clean up nicely, darling” his voice purred in her ear. “All of this for little old me?” he added mockingly.

“You know it, baby,” she whispered playfully. From the outside, they looked like the perfect couple. Too bad her eyes were looking for a particular figure in the sea of bodies.

And then she saw him, At the grand balcony overlooking the masses. The Frontman was a picture of restrained elegance, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit that exuded authority and quiet sophistication. The fabric was rich and matte, absorbing the dim light that filtered through the grand balcony. Beneath the perfectly cut blazer, a matching black vest hugged his frame, its buttons glinting subtly, accentuated by a delicate chain that trailed from one pocket—a subtle yet striking detail that added a vintage edge to the modern ensemble. His tie, jet black like the rest of his attire, was perfectly knotted, a seamless continuation of his sleek, monochrome look.

Seated on the grand balcony, the ballroom’s muted hum stretched out before him, but his focus remained inward. A glass of deep amber liquor rested casually in his hand, the light from the room catching the liquid’s warmth. His  posture relaxed but deliberate, the weight of unspoken thoughts settling on his sharp features. The boutonniere pinned to his lapel—a delicate arrangement of soft blooms—offered the only contrast, a fleeting touch of life against the otherwise dark, striking uniform. His familiar mask perfectly put onto his face. For just a moment, she forgot how to breathe. It was as if he felt her eyes lingering on him and instinctively went to her.

He raised his glass in her direction and tilted his head slightly before resuming his chat with presumably Il-Nam. The minor interaction made her pulse raise, blood rushing to her ears. God, why was she acting like a stupid little girl with a crush? Was he right that morning? Was she that pathetic? She quickly downed a glass of champagne.

“Atta, girl” Gong Yoo said amused. “ Just remember this is not the place for table dancing”

“Hilarious, does the humor come with the personality disorder or did you pay extra for that?”  she asked sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“Who said I am wearing any?” she replied, smirking slightly.

“There she is.” He laughed, a sparkle playing behind those eyes. “Maybe you should stop speaking like that or I might come to collect that favor you owe me.”

“That’s if you can catch me before I turn into a pumpkin, Mr. Salesman. Now come on, I would like a dance” she replied innocently.

“Your wish is my command, darling”

As they weaved their way through the sea of elegantly masked couples toward the center of the dance floor, her gaze instinctively flicked to where she had last seen In Ho. But he was gone. Still, she could feel him—his presence lingering like a shadow, his eyes tracking her every move from some unseen vantage point. It sent a chill down her spine, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of acknowledging it. Not tonight.

The quartet began a new melody, its hauntingly beautiful notes echoing through the grand ballroom. Taking their positions, she and the Salesman fell seamlessly into the rhythm, their movements effortlessly synchronized. His precision was remarkable, each turn, step, and sway executed with an almost mechanical flawlessness that both impressed and unsettled her. He led with quiet confidence, his hand firm yet gentle on her waist, guiding her through the intricate dance as though they’d rehearsed it a hundred times.

Her gown shimmered with every twist and spin, catching the light as their bodies moved in perfect harmony. For a moment, the rest of the room seemed to melt away, the opulent surroundings fading into the background. Yet, even as she danced, the weight of unseen eyes bore down on her, a reminder that the game they were all playing was far from over.

As Vivaldi’s The Four Seasons no 8 : Winter began to play, a chill swept through her, and with a sudden turn, she felt a cold hand grip her arm, pulling her toward him. Her breath caught in her throat. No—it wasn’t just any man. It was In-Ho. Her In-Ho. God, how she wanted to slap herself for thinking of him like that. With flawless precision, he guided her every step away from the eyes of Gong Yoo.

“In-Ho,” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Hello, little dove,” he replied, his tone heavy with menace. “Did you enjoy playing house with Gong Yoo?” His words dripped with sarcasm.

She could feel herself getting angry again. How dare he speak to her this way after he was the one who pushed him towards the other man, himself?

“Funny. Almost as funny as your face that night in the club.” She replied coolly, maintaining his gaze. Although she could not see his face, she felt his body tense up , his grip on her waist hardening as well.

“Are you in love with him?” he asked directly.

“What is between me and Gong Yoo is none of your goddamn business. You are the one who threw me out like a rag doll you were done playing, or don’t you remember that? And now you are doing what? Ambushing me?”

Her words cut through the air like a knife, a sarcastic smile plastered on her face trying not to raise her voice. Although she did love indulging in creating chaos, she believed there was a time and a place. Surrounded by her colleagues and all the potential donors for the games? Not a bright idea. There was a certain way she enjoyed chaos, calculated, ruthless, like a contained flame. Moreover, the woman was very much aware that tonight In Ho was to be selected as the new Host by Il-Nam. As much as she hated his guts, she would put on a show, a pleasant smile and clap for the man. That being said, it was taking everything in her power not to yell and hit him.

“I knew you were not going to pick up my calls so instead I opted for a more discreet way. I wanted to talk to you about what happened.”

“What is there to talk about? We fucked, I thought you loved me since that’s what you claimed and then you threw me out. I was being a stupid pathetic girl. There is no big mystery to elucidate.”

Even speaking of what had happened, made her feel mortified. How mortifying it all sounded on her lips. Her eyes were searching the crowd for her date, hoping he would swoop in and save her, but he was nowhere to be seen. Serves her right for believing that he was actually a friend.

“If you are looking for Gong Yoo, Il-Nam wanted to speak to him.” The Frontman spoke as if reading her mind. “Your sociopath in shining armor has more important matters to attend to” he added.

Although she could not see her face, she felt a flicker of jealousy in his words. The mask he wore was impenetrable, but something in his voice betrayed him. A part of her wanted to kiss his worries away to tell him how everything between her and the Salesman was nothing but a physical affair. She would have taken him into her arms, taken his mask off and caressed his handsome face. Snap out of it, you are truly pathetic.

“As much as I loved this dance of ours, Sir, I fear, I need to go and powder my nose, otherwise I might have to shoot my brains out” she said, a fake smile playing on her perfect lips.

In-Ho sighed, but he released her as the final notes of the song drifted into silence. She bowed respectfully, her movements precise, and he tilted his head slightly in her direction—an almost imperceptible acknowledgment. For a moment, she stood still, her gaze lingering on him. But then, with a practiced smile, she turned and made her way toward the restrooms, weaving through the crowd.

Her body shook involuntarily, the emotions bubbling up inside her like a storm. A rush of anger, bitter and raw, mixed with an ache deep in her chest. It felt like her heartstrings were being pulled and twisted, as if every step forward was one taken away from the person she used to be. She clenched her fists, her perfectly manicured blood red nails digging into her skin, the sharp pressure enough to draw blood from the palms. The sting spread through her hands, but she didn’t flinch. She couldn’t afford to. It was the only way she knew how to keep the chaos at bay—how to stop herself from spiraling into a panic attack, or worse, breaking down in front of everyone.

Her method wasn’t graceful, but it was hers. Unrefined, perhaps, but effective. It anchored her, forcing her to stay in the moment, to keep the lid on the storm inside.

Once inside the restroom, she leaned against the sink, her fingers trembling as she fumbled for the powder in her clutch. The mirror in front of her reflected a woman she barely recognized: the smile from moments ago still lingering in her eyes, but beneath it, there was something fractured. Something torn. She closed her eyes for a brief second, taking in a steadying breath, and then began to pat her face gently, as if each motion could somehow smooth out the tension knotting inside her.

Her hands moved automatically, as they always did when she needed to hide what was truly going on. She applied the powder with care, trying to ignore the way her heart was racing, the way her mind threatened to break free from its restraints. Each tap of the puff against her skin was a moment of false peace—a temporary illusion of control. She hated it, but at least it worked.

With one final sweep of her hand, she put the powder away and adjusted her hair in the mirror. She could hear the music still playing softly in the background, but all she could focus on now was the quiet rage that swirled within her. She wasn’t ready to face him again, not yet, but she would. She always did.

Taking one last breath, she straightened herself up and walked back into the crowd. No one would see the cracks. She made her way outside in the gardens. A beautiful labyrinth laid before her eyes, flower bushes in her sight. Her hands opened her clutch again and pulled out her case of cigarettes, carefully taking one out and lighting it. As she took the first drag, she felt her heartbeat slowing down, closing her eyes. His scent lingered in her nostrils. Musky and seductive mixed with his body odor. The same scent she spent hours scrubbing off her skin in the hot shower after the night they spent together.

“Can I have one of those?” his voice rang behind her.

“What? Are you stalking me now?” she asked harshly without moving an inch.

“No, the atmosphere was stuffy and my social battery in speaking to the VIPs was slowly drained”

He sounded sincere, she thought, though she didn’t give him the satisfaction of another glance. Without a word, she reached into her bag and handed him one of her Marlboros. In-Ho removed his mask, setting it down gently on the marble fence. The action was deliberate, almost ceremonial, as if the mask itself deserved reverence.

They stood there in an uneasy silence, the kind that hung thick in the air, neither of them willing to break it. The Frontman searched for her eyes, but she refused to meet his gaze, doing everything in her power to avoid it. Instead, she focused on the cigarette between her fingers, drawing in a steady breath of smoke, feeling the burn in her lungs.

She took a sip from the glass of champagne she had grabbed on her way outside, its coldness a fleeting distraction from the heat building inside her. Above them, the stars twinkled, casting a soft glow across the garden, and the faint hum of music drifted from inside the building. If it weren’t for the tension hanging between them, the scene would have almost been romantic. The flicker of stars in the sky, the music, the champagne—everything about the moment was meant for ease, for connection. But there was no peace here, not with him, not with the weight of the situation pressing down on her.

She clenched her jaw and took another drag from her cigarette, determined not to let her mind wander too far.

“You look breath-taking,” he admitted, breaking the silence.

“Thank you” she replied coldly, but his compliment awakened something inside her. Warmth pulled through her body.

“You know, gold was my ex wife’s favourite colour” In Ho spoke, his eyes trailing in the distance.

The woman looked up to him and for the first time he saw how handsome his face was looking under the stars. Although a part of her wanted to quiet him, she decided against it, instead opting to understand where this little confession was going.

“She loved gold and white roses and those American pancakes that I know you also enjoy so much” he continued. Her eyes looked at him with caution, almost testing to see where the conversation was headed.

“What happened to her?” she asked softly.

“She died.” He admitted while taking another drag from the cigarette, looking down. “You know she loved Vivaldi’s seasons, particularly winter number 8. She always said it reminded her of me”

“Cold, sharp, determined. I can see that.” The woman replied quietly. “But also oh so captivating and tragically beautiful” she added, her words more of a whisper to herself.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, and for a fleeting moment, the tension dissolved, leaving only a fragile, unspoken intimacy between them. In-Ho hadn’t expected it, the sudden wave of tenderness that swept through him, but it was undeniable—and strangely welcome. Something ached deep within his chest, raw and unresolved. Perhaps it was the pain of speaking about his late wife after so many years, or maybe it was the way the moonlight kissed her skin, making her seem almost otherworldly, like she didn’t belong to this grim reality they both inhabited.

He wanted to pull her into his arms, to bury his face in the warmth of her shoulder and murmur apologies that had long been buried beneath layers of regret and silence. He wanted to tell her how sorry he was—for everything. But words stuck in his throat, too heavy to form.

Instead, he flicked his cigarette against the marble, extinguishing it with a sharp twist of his fingers. The ember died quickly, leaving only a faint wisp of smoke curling into the night air. His hands drifted back toward the cold, familiar weight of the mask. It was easier that way—to retreat behind the impassive facade, where vulnerability couldn’t touch him.

But for a single beat, he lingered—just long enough for the ache inside him to remind him of what could never be.

“Are you and him a couple?” In-Ho asked suddenly, his eyes going back to her, studying her face.

“No,” she laughed dryly. “I am not that stupid, I am very much aware of the kind of person Gong Yoo is. He is great in bed, but I am not naive enough to think I can save a psychopath”

“Then why are you here, with him?” Curiosity took the better of him before he could stop himself.

The woman hesitated, wondering if there was any point in answering. Silence might have been safer, but perhaps it was the champagne loosening her resolve—or the charged atmosphere pressing in around them. Something inside her shifted, compelling her to seek his gaze, searching for answers she wasn’t sure she wanted to find.

Was that jealousy lacing his voice? Pain? Or just cold, detached curiosity? After all, the Salesman had taken away his favorite toy. But was that all she had ever been to him—a possession, something to flaunt and control? The thought twisted uncomfortably in her chest.

She clenched her jaw, torn between bitterness and intrigue, unsure whether she wanted to push him for the truth or leave it buried where it belonged.

“It sounds insane, but I know what I get when I am with him. The lines are clear, I can see his intentions behind every gesture. I don’t have to worry myself to death about what he wants, I already know it. Sex, an accessory on his arm, a thrill. Someone that challenges him. He is easy”

“Unlike me”

“Unlike you” she confirmed while finishing her own cigarette.

[stxrysnow]

contents. satoru x gn!reader. fluff. angsty, but it’s a good kind of angst. (?). hurt/comfort.

★ author’s notes. i’m missing satoru like a mf bro

you can feel something within you.

it’s a tiny thing, worthy of being unnoticed. worthy of being whisked away by other thoughts that keep you occupied all day long. but you still hold onto it, warming its hand and giving it a little squeeze, though you’re not sure why.

it’s not something significant, yet you notice it anyway.

(like a leaf landing on your shoe when trees shed their woes away.)

it scratches at your insides. it tries to squeeze itself through your ribs and your heart attempts to shush it, pacify it, but this thing is a petulant child. it bawls and bites the hand that tries to feed, hiding away in a corner somewhere.

(but it stays.)

you put a hand over your chest, trying to locate where it is. where are you? you don’t say it out loud, but for some reason, you know it’ll hear you. odd little thing it is, so predictable and lost.

i’m not gonna come outside, it says, and you can hear the hurt in its voice— the way it cracks a little. you can feel it curl up onto itself, shielding itself from everyone and everything, hoping that it’ll never be seen again.

(you give up.)

your fingers absent-mindedly tap the mug you’ve been holding, barely registering the soft tinkling of metal against ceramic when you stir the contents with a spoon. it sounds a little familiar, though, a distant voice at the back of your head whispers. sounds like a certain someone.

you realise what the little thing’s been all along.

(you should’ve seen it coming. cheeky, odd thing, fooling you once again.)

it’s longing.

you can feel exactly where it is now.

it is the lump in your throat that refuses to be swallowed down. it is the lingering glance your eyes give the clock whenever you catch a glimpse of the sky outside your window. it is the way your feet carry you to a room on their own. it is the way you pick up two spoons instead of one when you pile some ice cream onto your bowl.

(it is the burn beneath your skin and the rattling chains over your bones.)

you flop down on the couch, eyes fixated on the blank screen of your television. you raise the cup to your lips and have a sip— you don’t even know what you’re drinking.

(a pause.)

for one thing, it’s sweet. too sweet, in fact.

(a sickening sweet that makes the sting of the curled up longing blaze like an open wound.

all because of a certain someone.)

you miss him.

you miss him, gods, you miss him. you feel like you’re dying.

a moment ago, you had placed your hand over your chest whilst trying to find out where the something within you lay, and in the next moment it’s all over you— consuming you whole from the inside out. gnawing at your soul and trapping the air before it could escape, and you start to lose your breath.

(you can’t take it anymore.)

your shaky hands let go of the mug and it spills some coffee on the floor; your feet carry you towards your room in such hurried steps that it might as well look like you’re sprinting away.

(running away from it.

the damned longing.)

and before you know it, you’re pressing satoru’s name on your screen.

it rings mechanically, but you feel it echo within your mind like a haunting melody.

please, you think. plea. request. demand. you’re not sure what you’re begging for. you just are. please, please, please, please—

(a pause.)

“hello?”

it’s quite remarkable, the way the tension within you deflates.

(how could it not?)

his voice is the evening summer breeze that brushes away stray strands of your hair when you close your eyes. his voice is the lingering aftertaste of gum on your tongue, the one that you wish stayed a little longer. his voice is the soft coo in your ear that soothes your chained bones and coaxes the longing away.

(your satoru’s voice.)

“satoru,” you breathe out. really breathe out. it sounds more like a gasp than anything, and you’re more than aware of the little crack in your voice.

(but you go on, anyway.)

“satoru.” you repeat again.

it feels so much better to have it on your lips that you want to say it till you can’t speak. till you can’t breathe.

(it’s the only thing keeping you alive, anyway.)

“yeah, baby?” he murmurs. you can feel the tiredness clinging to his light tone. your poor baby, he must be so tired. and you? you’re calling him just because you couldn’t handle his absence.

(but a tiny part of you allows you to be a little selfish. just this once.)

“. . . hello? honeybun?”

his voice startles you a little. you realise that you’ve been zoning out since the past minute.

(just this once, you finally swallow the lump in your throat.)

“yeah,” you say, “yeah— yeah. ’m here.”

“good,” he laughs a little. you feel those chains unravel themselves. “i was starting to wonder whether you’d fallen asleep on me after calling me in the middle of the might. not that i’d mind.”

“no, i just. . . i—” your cheeks heat up a little. “i . . have you eaten?”

(a pause.)

oh, satoru’s heart is in shambles right now, but he wouldn’t change the ache on his chest for anything. you probably can’t see it, but he’s not even bothering to blink away the tears that spill down his cheeks like little, forbidden crystals.

(the strongest was just so weak for you.)

“yeah,” he manages to say, after a while, “yeah. i’ve eaten, sweetheart. you?”

“i have,” you murmur.

(i miss you, you think. i’ll wait.)

“good,” he murmurs back.

(i miss you, satoru thinks. wait for me.)

@stxrysnow on tumblr. do not copy or post any of my works without my permission.

[inkywellkiwi]

I started this post in NOVEMBER 2024, I left it in the drafts but I'm going to post it anyway.

/

I don't like of doing this kind of thing but it will be necessary, it may be a bit silly but a friend ended up finding this image on Pinterest without credits, even though it was silly I felt a slight discomfort. I don't know how to explain it, it was kind of tough to see that this thing I did is there without credits, you know?

I had the idea by chance when I saw a picture of Mole, Damien, Pip and Gregory together and for some unknown reason Mole was cross-eyed, so I thought "Why not make an edit of that?"I spent a considerable amount of time editing Mole's face, manually removing the background of the helmet (I do this out of habit), changing a few things and so on so that someone can just take it and post it on Pinterest just because it's not there and it's funny, since Mole is an 8/9 year old boy, he's a mercenary smoker and has probably had some moments like this in his life.

I feel like I'm making a storm in a teacup because I did this just for fun and I thought I'd post it because maybe it'll brighten someone's day, I actually feel ridiculous talking about this

I find it annoying that a considerable number of pins don't have the original artists' credits. In fact, I like it when people publish with the credits and I'm even happier when the artists themselves publish their artwork there

But seeing something I've actually done, being there made me feel very uncomfortable, and this has probably already happened with the few Raggedy Ann things I've posted here, but I've posted some memes I've done there, not all of them that I've posted here but I've posted them there

I commented there so that the person could at least leave the credits, it's been about 2 days and so far...nothing. I know that this network doesn't usually notify like it used to, but...I don't know

I feel like I'm being ridiculous by talking about this and passing on some bad image, but in fact I'm just uncomfortable, I would never wish for someone to have their work reposted without credit especially thereUnfortunately it's a lesson for me to have to watermark even silly things

But again, I'm sorry about this, I didn't expect this to happen so soon with something I did just to make fun and get a laugh out of some people, I can't express myself very well, especially in English which isn't my first language, I tried to explain as best as possible what's going on in my head about this, I'll probably delete this later

Again, I apologize for this ridiculous post.

/

After two months nothing happened so I'm finally posting this, It's not cool not to give credit to what YOU TOOK and reposted somewhere else, learn that doing this kind of thing is RIDICULOUS

So whoever you are, PLEASE GIVE CREDITS, your hands will not fall

What he saw cannot be unseen

[shivunin]

Honey and Lavender

In which Lucanis grapples with his feelings for Rook after their near-kiss in his bedroom (AO3 Link)

(Rook Ingellvar/Lucanis | 3,586 Words | No CW, romance progression spoilers)

“Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling, The wind is passing through.” —Christina Rossetti, “Who Has Seen the Wind?”

No matter what he’d told Rook, stepping out of the dining room did not help Lucanis clear his head. No matter where he stood, it would always be too loud, too cramped. 

“Go back,” Spite snapped. 

Lucanis wrapped his hands around the wood railing and squeezed, trying to shake the sensation of Rook’s breath on his cheek. She had been so very close—close enough to breathe her in, to feel the brush of her clothing against his. Close enough to touch, though he had not done so.

“No,” he said. 

Spite loomed in his peripheral vision, his face pinched. 

“No,” Lucanis repeated, his grip tightening until the uneven wood pressed hard into his palms. “We have to stay focused. Getting attached without—no. No, it is a poor idea.”

“Liar,” Spite spat. “Make up your own reasons later. I want to touch her. Go inside.”

The demon’s grip tightened, like a fist around the base of his neck. Lucanis gritted his teeth and pushed back. Waking from sleep to find himself already standing, the taste of strange words on his tongue, had become all too familiar. 

Rook’s presence when he woke was also not unfamiliar. He wished he knew how to feel about that. 

That was, in the end, the problem: he didn’t know how to feel. He didn’t know which of them wanted Rook, or for what. When he thought of setting his hand on her shoulder, was that his or Spite’s? When he imagined how her bare hands would feel on his face, was that something Spite wanted, for reasons beyond Lucanis’s understanding? Or worse, was it the remnants of infiltration training he’d rarely cared to use?

How could he hope to understand when Spite would not stop saying that?

“I said no,” Lucanis told him. “She isn’t for touching. She is—”

A what? A client? A friend? An associate, he had called her when Teia had flirted with her, and realized too late that she’d only done it to prod him. Rook was none of those things; she defied easy categorization. Rook was a threat when threatened, a friend when friendship was offered, a leader when leadership was called for, his voice of reason when it seemed easiest to believe the worst of himself…

Rook was important. He would never pretend otherwise. It didn’t make any of this less of a distraction. 

“She wanted to touch. You wanted to. I felt it,” Spite said, and Lucanis felt the demon’s grip tighten at the base of his neck. He gritted his teeth against the pressure and tightened his grip on the railing. 

“It does not matter what I want,” he said, and with some force pushed the demon further away from his mind again. 

Alone for a moment, Lucanis pressed his knuckles to the trickle of blood that already dripped from his nose. 

She is not for touching, he’d told Spite. 

He wished he knew if he believed it. 

|

Lucanis would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t watching Rook more closely in the aftermath of the near-kiss, but such a lie would have been pointless. Spite saw everything he did and nobody else seemed willing to ask about it. Who would he have lied to? 

At first, he might have thought there was no change in her behavior. She still followed her general routine, sparring and cooking and seeking ways to fight the gods. She still took him with her when she and Neve hunted Venatori in Minrathous and still joked with him when they were around the others. When he walked unsleeping in the rotunda, he could still hear the haunting strains of her violin from the meditation room. 

There should not be any difference, yet he would have sworn that something was amiss. Rook was more prone than usual to drifting silence, gaze fastened somewhere in the distance, a frown furrowing her brow. It wasn’t until several days later that he overheard her speaking to Neve and put the pieces together. 

“Hey, there. Something bothering you?” Neve asked. The door to the dining room creaked shut. “You haven’t seemed like yourself these past few days.”

There was a long silence, which Lucanis disregarded. Whoever she spoke to, it was not his current concern. He needed to prepare for—

“Do you think people are capable of changing?” Rook asked.

Lucanis, who’d been in the middle of a long series of stretches, paused and listened. 

“Rook!” Spite said. 

Lucanis resisted the urge to tell him to be quieter; nobody would hear the demon but him. 

“What sort of change do you mean?” 

Soft sounds, liquid pouring (“Eugh—smells like burned coffee,” Spite muttered, and Lucanis could not blame him), and a quiet sigh. Lucanis slipped silently to the door and stood very still just before the threshold.

“Because,” Neve went on, “I have a hard time believing some people can change. You know, lifetime of power and murder makes it a little hard to start thinking that other people matter, for example. But if you’re talking about, say, learning to like a new food? I’d say yes.”

Rook laughed slightly. Something scraped—a chair pulling away from the table. When she spoke again, her voice was much quieter. Lucanis had to strain to hear her. 

“I mean—do you think we’re doomed to make the same mistakes over and over again forever?” 

A pause. Footsteps—Neve’s. 

“I’ve got a lot of experience in being where I’m not wanted,” Rook went on. “I mean, it’s sort of what has to be done when it comes to our current situation. But even before that, I was used to people—I mean people I cared about—I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m asking, I suppose.”

“No, go on,” Neve said, and a second chair scraped over stone. 

“You’re a detective,” Rook began, and paused. 

“I am, yes.”

“How do you know when you’re putting clues together and when you’re reading into something that isn’t there.” 

Spite hissed.

“Ah,” the syllable carried a heavy weight. 

Lucanis braced his hand against the wall and bent forward, anchoring himself to the sensation of solid stone against his fingertips. Something that isn’t there. She could mean anything. He wasn’t willing to try to fool himself into thinking she meant anything other than whatever was happening between the two of them. 

“I lay out the facts,” Neve said at last. “Clear as I can. What was actually done, what was actually said, what I know about the situation as a whole. I write it all down together, get everything I know in one place.”

Someone sipped from their cup. The hearth on the other side of his wall crackled faintly—almost time to add a log. He did not think he would do so while they were still talking. 

“Right,” Rook said at last. “Right. That makes sense.”

“I try to stay out of my head about it,” Neve went on, voice lowered. “Easy way to get distracted from the facts. That’s when you get into trouble.”

“Out of my head,” Rook repeated. “It sounds good in theory, but I’m not sure how I would achieve something like that.”

Neve laughed. 

“Sounds about right,” she said. A chair scraped across the floor again. “But if you want my opinion? Just between the two of us?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not imagining it.” 

Soft footsteps—Neve’s—and the creak of the door. Slowly, it creaked closed again. In the other room, Rook sighed and pushed her chair away from the table. Her footsteps were quiet—barefoot again, even after she’d scraped her foot on the wooden steps to Davrin’s room last week. They hardly grew louder when she approached his room. 

Lucanis, still leaning against the wall, curled his hand into a loose fist and tried to decide if it was worth pretending he’d been doing something else. Maybe he would resolve this instead, make it clear he’d heard her. That he thought…

What did he think? 

That he’d only really slept once since they’d almost kissed and he’d dreamt of pressing her back against this wall and tasting her? That he had been wondering what her hair might feel like caught between his fingers? That Spite talked over everyone but her, that his fascination with her had probably been sparked by Lucanis’s? That he was no longer entirely convinced that he felt like this only because of Spite?

That it had only occurred to him to want to do this once before and it had been a disaster?

His door creaked slightly, as if Rook’s hand rested upon it. This close, he could hear the soft intake of her breath. She was only a few inches away—less than a foot. He could open the door himself. He could tell her…

The door rattled slightly as the pressure on it released, followed by a soft sigh and footsteps moving away. 

“She’s walking away,” Spite snapped, surging for the door. 

Lucanis reached for the handle before he caught himself, violet sparks burning in the corners of his eyes. He shook his head and stepped back slowly, deliberately. His hand stretched forward against his will, grasping for something it could not reach.

“Let me talk to Rook,” Spite went on, as he so often did. “Open the door.”

Rigidly, Lucanis walked back to his cot and sat, wrapping one hand tightly around the other. In the next room, the door swung open and closed again. 

“She’s leaving. Now!” Spite said, seizing his hands. 

The demon warred with him for control. Lucanis pushed him away, but the effort took several minutes and left him exhausted. Temporarily alone, he pressed a hand to his face and took several long, slow breaths. 

If he could touch her without touching her—if there were some way to make his feelings clear while holding her at a safe distance…

Unbidden, he remembered the way she’d smiled at him that first time in the cafe. Surprised, cheeks slightly flushed; he had not had her measure then. He was not entirely sure he had it now, for she spoke so little about herself. But she had smiled at him and said—

That was it. 

Lucanis stood, remembering precisely which set of stretches he’d left off on before the conversation in the other room. He had a plan now. Now, he had only to wait for the right time to set it in motion. 

|

“Do you think Harding believed you?” Lucanis asked from the other side of the fireplace. 

Rook, midway through dumping her pile of vegetables into the stewpot, glanced at him. 

“About the letter from her mum? ‘Course she did. There was an actual letter.”

“Oh?” he lifted a brow and angled his head to the side. The firelight traced the lines of his face the way she would’ve liked to, painting dark hollows under his eyes and limning the angle of his nose and cheekbones with gold. He was just so—

Shouldn’t be watching him like this. It’d been days since they’d almost kissed. She’d been strong. Focused. Had kept things aboveboard and friendly, no matter how much she wanted to ask him…

What? What could she say, really? How’s your head feeling these days? Pretty clear? No, that was silly. There was too much else to be worrying about to worry about whatever was between—whatever she’d imagined was between them. 

“You’re not imagining it,” Neve had told her, but it felt awfully dangerous to believe her. The consequences for believing her and being wrong would be far worse than she could handle right now. Worse than all of them could handle, if she was being honest. More than anything, it was her responsibility to make sure that they all held together. There was no room for her to make a mistake that big over her own feelings. 

“Well, I remembered it was Lace’s turn to cook,” she told him, focusing on the cutting board with far more attention than was warranted, “and Davrin may have mentioned something about an alarming amount of cheese earlier…”

“It was for a cheese soup, I believe,” Lucanis agreed, and his hands moved in her periphery. Taking another sip of coffee, presumably. She suspected it was a proportionately significant component of his blood content at this point. She wasn’t going to watch the way his lips moved when he pressed them to the rim of the cup. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said, though she knew he was. Lace had been most of the way through grating a block of cheese when Rook had walked in. 

“You don’t think her capable of it?” 

Rook laughed at that, settled the lid on the pot, and turned away again. There was half a block of grated cheese to do something with now—a troubling thought, since none of the rest of them were Fereldan and thus did not share the scout’s love of cheese. Maybe she’d just set it aside and Bellara would make khachapuri again. 

“Well, in any case,” she went on. “The letter came in a little earlier. I may have waited until she’d started cooking to let her know.”

“Devious.”

“You wouldn’t be the first to say so.”

She tapped her hips, surveying the available ingredients before selecting a likely-looking loaf of bread. Lucanis shifted in her periphery. Despite herself, she looked at him. He’d pressed a hand to his face, forefinger and thumb pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Spite?” she asked, and he nodded. “He want to say anything in particular or is he just hungry, too?” 

The muscle in his jaw twitched. Slowly, deliberately, he set his mug on the table beside him. 

“It is nothing worth sharing. I will brew more coffee. Would you like some?” 

What could she say? Pity would shame him and sympathy was hardly better. She sometimes wished she had Emmrich’s talent for hearing spirits. Perhaps if she could address both of them at once…but no. Maybe letting him do something for her would help. He seemed comforted by taking care of the people around him in that way.

“If you’re making it.”

“Sweet with cream, yes?” he said. 

The soft sounds of metal and glass to her left told her he’d already begun. Could he see her smiling? Surely not. She’d turned her head enough that she wouldn’t be caught. 

“You remembered.”

“How could I forget?” he said. 

She laughed. He didn’t, but Rook was distracted enough in retrieving the bread knife that she hardly noticed. Water bubbled in the kettle and was poured into Lucanis’s coffeemaker. The fire crackled between them, its sound like a warm blanket over her shoulders. All at once, for no apparent reason, she felt—well, it was strange, but she could almost say she felt a sense of belonging, of rightness, like she was meant to be here at this moment with him. Her hand stilled on the knife, as if moving too much would dispel the sensation.

Had she ever felt like this before? Like she belonged anywhere that wasn’t the Necropolis? Maybe it didn’t matter if he wanted her or not. Maybe it was enough just to be near him, to know that he cared. Maybe it was enough to be in a place where people cared about her and told her so, where she cared enough to cook for them and worry about who would eat what. 

A place where somebody remembered how she liked her coffee. 

“Rook?” Lucanis asked, abruptly beside her. 

“Sorry,” she said, straightening. “Did you say something? I was…lost in thought.”

Whenever he looked at her, she had the odd feeling that he was reading something far deeper than her skin. She often wondered how much he saw, how much he understood without ever asking. 

“Your coffee,” he said at last, and held out one of the delicate coffee cups that’d appeared in the kitchen shortly after his arrival. 

Rook took it, still trying to cling to that feeling of comfort. His hand lingered on the mug, brushing against hers. His skin was warm, unexpectedly so. She wished that she could linger in the heat of it, but perhaps the warmth of the mug could satisfy that want instead. 

“Thank you. You make the best coffee—but I’m sure you know that.” 

“Nobody else here has the experience,” he agreed, and drank from his own cup. 

Lenore blew across the surface of hers and took a sip, wary of the heat. Lucanis seemed less sensitive to it than she was and she’d burned her tongue on his coffee more than once. Caution had made her careful. 

There had been no reason for her caution; this was the perfect cup of coffee. It was slightly cooler than boiling, perfectly sweet (though it was a warm sweetness that could not have come from sugar), and tasted faintly of…what was that? She closed her eyes and drank more deeply, trying to name the flavor. 

Coffee, honey, cream, and…something floral. 

Lavender! That was lavender. Oh. 

Honey and lavender cream, sweet and intriguing, he’d said at Cafe Pietra. Like a first kiss. 

When she opened her eyes again, Lucanis was still watching her, index finger tracing the whorl in the ceramic cup he still held. Two steps away—that was all. Such a small distance. She could have closed it so very easily.

“Honey and lavender cream,” she said. Her breath seemed to have deserted her; the words came out in a whisper, so quiet that someone standing on the other side of the hearth would not have heard them. 

His eyes were—she never stopped thinking about them, but they seemed especially deep, especially fathomless in that moment. She wanted to touch his face, to trace the dark lines of his beard, to cup the angle of his cheekbone. She wanted to watch his eyes change when she kissed him, wanted to know if that self-contained focus of his would dissolve or sharpen in response. 

“I can make you something else if you would prefer,” he said. His voice was as quiet as hers had been, but so gentle it hurt her heart to hear. 

“This is perfect,” she said. She drank again while he watched. The coffee was just as sweet and luscious and strange the second time. She’d never tasted anything like it. 

“Perfect,” she repeated. “The best I’ve ever had, I think. Thank you.”

“It was my pleasure,” he said. 

She wondered if Lucanis would turn away and break the moment, but he did not. He stood very still and watched her instead, his own mug cupped in his hands. 

I lay out the facts, Neve had told her. Get everything I know in one place. 

Maybe they were both working on too little information. Maybe the only way to fix that was to put all the facts in one place. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked impulsively, clutching her own mug in mirror to him. Lucanis angled his head, longer strands of hair slowly drifting over his shoulder. 

“I am thinking,” he said at last, “that it may be a poor substitute for the alternative.”

A slow breath. Her heart raced on anyway, refusing to be calmed. The coffee warmed her cool hands and the taste of lavender and honey still lingered on her tongue. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Lenore told him. “I wasn’t exaggerating when I told you it’s been a very long time, and even then I wasn’t any good at it. If this is something you—something you want…I’m not in any rush.”

A ridiculous thing to say, considering the forces arrayed against them and the tight timeline they were always working under. It didn’t feel ridiculous, though. It felt right, in the way that cooking in the same room as him had felt right. Facing the idea of some sort of romance head-on made her feel faintly ill, as if looking down on the world from some great height. But this? It might be roundabout and oblique, but it felt good anyway. 

Lucanis opened his mouth to answer, but the door to the dining room opened and Bellara rushed in. 

“Is it my turn to make dinner? I can’t remember where my copy of the list went. I think it might have gotten stuck under something again. Hi, Rook!” 

“Bellara,” Rook said. “No, you’re fine. It was Harding’s turn, but I took over for her. If you don’t mind, I’m running a little behind. Could you slice the bread while I finish with these?”

“Sure!” Bellara said, slipping between Rook and Lucanis. The latter set his cup on the table and returned to the hearth. 

“I will keep this from burning,” Lucanis said, lifting the pot lid and looking inside.

It already is, Rook thought, for there was heat from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. She said nothing aloud, but took one more sip from her mug before setting it aside. 

As first kisses went, it was certainly better than her last one, and given with a great deal more care and attention. I don’t think you’re imagining it, Neve had told her. Lenore had to agree. This—whatever it was, whatever it would become—was entirely real. 

“What are you humming, Rook?” Bellara asked a moment later. 

Rook, who hadn’t realized she was humming at all, smiled. 

“I don’t think it has a name yet,” she said, “but I’m working on it.”

[thanosscross]

All for show 3/? - Choi Seung Hyun/T.O.P x American! Pop-Star! Reader

Summary: After being caught by your manager, Christopher, for leaving the country, you're left with a big decision to make, stay in Korea, and risk everybody's jobs, or go back to America and kiss your new dream life goodbye.

Warnings: Some Angst for your lovelies!

Staying with Seung Hyun was like a dream for you, there wasn't underlying stress, no pressure of being perfect, just having fun with your boyfriend. You were taking small steps, both of you wanting to make sure, that what was going on between you, lasted, but both of you were enjoying every moment together.

It’d only be six days though, before Christopher would be blowing your phone up with different lectures and threats. Of course, it’d also be whenever Seung Hyun would be out recording with the boys, and you weren’t about to bother him with this while he was working. So you sat in his bedroom, your back against the bed frame as you stared at your phone screen, watching as new texts came in every few seconds.

‘Y/n. If it’s true you left the country I swear’

‘You’re seriously in South Korea right now?’

‘Do you know how unprofessional it is to just take off like that? What if you had something scheduled?’

‘You’re ruining your own career being a selfish brat.’

‘And if you don’t ruin it, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing I do because you don’t deserve any of this.’

‘I knew I never should’ve wasted my time on some sorry warm body’

‘I swear I will come to Korea myself just to knock some sense into your stupid fucking head’

As more texts flooded in, you started to grow scared, the more you didn’t reply, the angrier that Chris got. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him, he had never acted like this before, but it was making you terrified to return back to your country. You watched as your phone went off with calls from Christopher before a single text came through from your assistant

‘Christopher just fired everybody, what the hell is going on? Are you okay?’

You tried to hold back your tears, calling her quickly, you never wanted any of this to happen, you never thought it would ever come to this point “y/n? Honey? What’s going on?” Your assistant, Casey, asked softly, you could hear Christopher’s muffled shouts in the background “He found out I left the country, C-Cas, he’s like..for real threatening me, I don’t know if I should come back” you whimpered, trying to calm your nerves as you heard your friend huff “don’t let him scare you. He’s nothing but some small dick, wannabe pop star, short ass, dumb, narcissistic, piece of shit of a man” she listed off, smiling whenever she heard you giggle softly over the phone. “Where’s your man, huh? I’d think you’d be all over him before you had to come back home” she added on, trying her best to change the subject, you sighed a bit, trying your best to tune out the muffled threats of your manager being shouted in the background “he’s recording for a new song..he should be home in awhile” you whispered before flinching slightly whenever you heard the door open over the phone, and Christopher’s shouts become much louder “are you on the phone with her?!” He shouted before you heard Casey’s shouting loudly, telling him to fuck off before calling out that she’d call you back in a little bit.

Leaving you alone in the home, your phone was still blowing up, this time worse than before, the fact you were talking to Casey and not him just fueled his anger even more. “Aein! I’m home!” Seung Hyun called softly as he closed the front door behind him, trying to track you down somewhere in the home.

Whenever he finally managed to find you, his heart would break slightly “y/n?..what are you doing?..” he asked softly, watching as you tried your best to shove your clothes into your suitcase “I-i can’t stay here, C-Chris found out I left t-the country, and if I don’t show back up there by nine tonight their time, everybody is going to lose their jobs” you whispered, dropping your arms in defeat, you should’ve known this was going to happen. With your luck, you should’ve known this wouldn’t work, Christopher wouldn’t let it, not without him having every bit of control over it. Seung Hyun rushed over, grabbing your hands gently “Aein..my love” he replied, pulling you into a tight hug as you just leaned into his touch, not wanting to leave, but you never meant to cause any damage by coming here. "Do You want to leave?" He asked softly, holding you close as he swayed with you slightly, you just shook your head quickly, wrapping your arms around him as you sighed "No, I don't.." You stopped yourself from explaining further, he had enough to stress about, he didn't need to stress additionally about your stuff. Seung Hyun sighed, he wasn't sure what to say, until it finally dawned on him "Aren't you his biggest star? Why not just employ your own staff, and then sign on to a different company? With how big you are overseas, I'm sure it could work" He explained, slowly leading you to sit down on the bed with him, You just shrugged nervously, trying to hold back any new tears, this was really hard to deal with.

"What if nobody wants me?.." You whispered, looking at your shoes, trying your best not meet his gaze, knowing you'd immediately break down if you did. "My love, now that's just silly, I'm sure you could even find an agency here to sign with" He protested, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to pull you close, you just stayed quiet, you wanted to tell Seung Hyun everything involved in the situation, but you didn't want him worried, or him feel like he was obligated to help you. "I-I don't know..- If I go back..-" You stopped yourself, growing frustrated at the fact you weren't finding the words you needed to, Seung Hyun just watching you intently, wanting to help you in any way that he could. "I'm scared to go home, alone" You whispered, staring at the wall, trying to ignore the way your hands shook as you slowly slid your phone to him "Chris is really, Really mad.." You added on, leaning into his hold, as he opened your phone, starting to read through your message. You could tell as his grip on you tightened, and his breathing became unstable, he was getting more towards the threatening messages. "What the fuck? 자신의 협박이 불법이라는 사실을 몰랐나요? 신고하셨나요? 그는 말 그대로 당신을 해치겠다고 협박하고 있어요, 내 사랑 (Didn't you know his threats were illegal? Did you report them? He's literally threatening to hurt you, my love)" He asked quickly, cupping your cheeks gently to pull your attention towards him "I-I don't know what to do" You whimpered, you had been signed under Christopher's company for years, you grew up with him through your late teen years, and early adult years, so the thought of leaving and going where new, also terrified you, just as much as the idea of staying did. "Y/n, You need to leave his management" He whispered, his tone still stern and demanding, trying to tell you that you really had no other choice, he wouldn't let you have another choice. Seung Hyun loved and cared about you way too much to let you deal with your manager any longer, he knew the moment he saw you fighting with him for the first time, that Chris was not a good guy in the slightest. "Where would I go? Where would I sign? Seung Hyun, I love you..but I'm stuck" You ranted, standing back up to start packing again, you needed to get back home before Chris takes things too far and tries to go after Seung Hyun, in retaliation. "My love! You could go anywhere!" He argued, huffing whenever he noticed you weren't going to back down, You had to do this, you had staff members with kids and families to take care of, that couldn't afford to lose their jobs.

Seung Hyun watched for a moment, before ultimately deciding, he was going with you. As he stood up and started packing his own clothes, neatly folding them and laying them flat in his suitcase. "W-What are you doing?" You asked, grabbing his hands gently, stopping him from his task "If you're this set on going back to deal with his stupid ass, then I'm going with you. I'm not going to allow you to do this alone" He explained, turning to face you, you just huffed, between your frustration with Chris, and your anxiety, you couldn't fathom why on earth, Seung Hyun would want to come deal with this bullshit. "Why? You have your own job, your own stressful bullshit here, so why would you want to add on someone else's bullshit?" You asked, dropping your hands to your sides, tilting your head, trying to understand him and his thought process. "Y/n...You're not just someone else, and I'm not adding it on. I love you, Aein, and your bullshit..is my bullshit" He explained, pulling you into a tight hug "Anything you have to go through, my love, I'll always be by your side, that way there's not anything scary, that you ever have to go through alone again" He explained, trying his best to word it properly, you just sighed, dropping your head onto his chest, trying not to cry again, this time by the pure sweetness of Seung Hyun. "Why are you so charming?" You groaned, wrapping your arms around him tightly, looking up to meet his gaze. Seung Hyun just offered you a sympathetic smile as he rubbed your arms gently, motioning to your suitcases laying on the bed "So..Are we going to America?" He asked softly, knowing if so, he'd definitely be scheduling a meeting with your manager.

Whenever you'd land back in L.A, you'd try and hold on to Seung Hyun's hand the entire process of going out to the car you had waiting outside. "Love?...Swear you're not going to start anything?" You whispered, you knew you'd have to have a conversation with Christopher, especially if you were pulling out of your contract with him, and you also knew Seung Hyun wasn't going to let you do it alone, especially with how Chris has been acting towards you. "I can't make promises, my love, I can promise I'll try to wait until you're not present" He whispered softly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as you approached the car, Christopher standing outside, rolling his eyes at the image of you both walking out. Seung Hyun could feel his blood start to boil as he approached the car and your manager, his body felt tense, and he could feel his stomach start to do flips from how much anger ran through his body. "So nice of you to actually show up and do your fucking job" Christopher spat, watching as you silently got in the car, keeping your eyes trained on your boyfriend as he stared Chris down before he climbed in next to you.

The ride to your managers office was silent, the air in the car was filled with tension so thick, you could barely breathe. Your eyes were glued to the floorboard as your brain went over every possibility that could happen, once you arrived at the office space. "I don't see why we can't have the conversation now?" Seung Hyun spoke lowly, not taking his eyes off of Chris, as you took your hand in his, you took a deep breath. "This isn't a conversation that involves outsiders, it is a business meeting between a pop-star and her manager" Chris replied in a snappy tone, causing your head to shoot up quickly, giving him a glare, his comment being all you needed for that final boost of confidence to quit. "It's not a conversation at all, Christopher. I'm terminating our contract, I've spent my ten years with you, and I thank you for all you've done for me, but I don't want to be working for someone like you" You explained, trying to keep a professional tone, but it ended up just being laced in disgust, Chris scoffed, laughing loudly "Seriously? You get with a new guy and all of a sudden you're some badass now? Hey, Y/n, question, whenever he leaves you, like he will, what will you do, huh? You'll be nobody, with nothing" He spat, you squeezed Seung Hyun's hand tightly whenever you felt him tense, harshly, silently letting him know you could handle it. Seung Hyun couldn't help it, just like the first time he watched you fight with Christopher, he didn't like seeing someone disrespect you like that, especially with knowing how you felt about yourself.

"No. Christopher, you don't get to make me feel bad anymore, I might've played the part for half my life, but I am so fucking done. You are nobody, Christopher, understand that. You might've helped me get gigs, but that's all you did. You are nothing but the ugly fucking face behind my FORMER management team, I am the one who made myself, I am fucking everything behind my name!" You shouted as the car stopped, letting the three of you out in the parking lot, you couldn't hide your smirk as you spotted the paparazzi rushing over "Come on, let's go handle this inside, Y/n. Don't act like this" Chris growled, going to grab your wrist harshly, Seung Hyun quickly stepping between you two to stop him, instead grabbing Chris's shoulder/collarbone tightly "Put your hands on her, and You'll have a lot more than how she's acting to deal with" Your boyfriend growled back, shoving him back as he let go of his grip on your manager, not breaking eye contact as he stared Chris down, not ever backing down until you rested your hand on his chest, having him step away slightly "Thank you, love" You whispered before turning your attention back to Christopher "I should've fucking listened to everybody years ago, they all told me! Don't fucking sign her! She's got no talent, just a body! I thought I could make something out of that body! But nope! Nothing but a warm body" He seethed, you could feel yourself getting more pissed, but instead of blowing up, you just broke out into laughs "Really? Everybody told you that? Little 'can't pull a bitch' Christopher had so many people saying don't sign?" You laughed holding a hand over your chest "I'd say you're adorable, but the sight of you, physically makes me fucking sick" You spat, walking closer to him huffing "My lawyers will be in contact, in regard to anything else? Call Casey, or any other of MY staff" You added on before turning to walk towards the bus stop, you'd be damned if you took one of the cars driven by his drivers. "Oh! And Christopher?" You called sweetly before turning around "At least my warm body, has more talent in it than you'll ever have in a lifetime" You smiled, waving goodbye to him in a smartass manner before grabbing Seung Hyun's hand as you walked onto the bus.

The moment you sat down, you could feel yourself starting to have a panic attack, all of the adrenaline wearing off, making you realize how stupid it was to do that, and then leave him there to twist the story to paparazzi. "Hey, hey! That was amazing" He whispered, cupping your cheeks, forcing you to look at him "Personally, I would've liked to kick his ass, but, You handled that perfectly, my love" He whispered, pulling you into a hug as you continued to panic, trying your best to shield your face from any other bus riders, or paparazzi trying to get a picture of you through the bus window. "I just ruined my life" You cried, holding onto his jacket tightly "You didn't ruin your life, my love, nothings ruined, but, we did leave all of our luggage in the trunk of that car" He chuckled, watching as you looked at him, trying to keep a straight face before giggling loudly "Oh my god, we totally did" You laughed, hugging him tightly before pulling away, trying to read the map ahead to figure out what stop, you needed to get off at. "Seung Hyun...now what do I do?" You asked quietly, your knee bouncing slightly as you glanced at your hands, where your fingers were inter-laced tightly together "What do you want to do, my love?" he whispered, pressing your knuckles to his lips gently, his question made you really think, what did you want to do?

"I..I think I want to make different music" You whispered after a moment, looking up to meet his eyes, smiling as bit as he looked at you with such love and admiration. "Yea? What kind?" he asked softly, standing up as you made it to your stop, Seung Hyun following close behind you. "I think I want to just..write what I feel, and my real feelings, not the feelings people tell me to have" You explained, walking towards your neighborhood as you swung your and Seung Hyun's hands slightly. "Well, whatever you decide to do, my love?..I'm here for you, every step of the way" He whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist whenever you finally made it to your home. "I appreciate you, I swear, I appreciate you more than anybody" You whispered, cupping his cheeks gently as you smiled "It's really not a problem, my love. I love you so much, and I'm not going to let any person put their hands on you, especially not in front of me" He whispered, pulling you closer by your hips as he smiled softly "He wouldn't of actually grabbed me, I wouldn't of let it get that far" You giggled, caressing his cheek gently, smiling as he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead "I want to believe you...I really do, but, you are smaller than Ji" He joked, laughing as you shot him an offended look, giggling along with his laughs "Hey! I could kick anybody's ass" You smiled, standing up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek "Sure you can, my love, either way, I'll always be by your side for every fight" He whispered, moving a hand to cup your cheek as he pressed his lips against yours, you smiled against his lips as you moved your lips against his. You felt so powerful and enthralled with Seung Hyun, he was perfect, in every possible way, and him defending, and protecting you? Just made you even more in love with the man. As you slowly pulled away from Seung Hyun's lips, you never noticed the single hidden paparazzi person, hiding across the street, getting your entire interaction with Seung Hyun.

As you and Seung Hyun winded down from the very eventful day, you laid in your bed together, resting your head on Seung Hyun's chest as his arm was wrapped around you. As you laid there, you huffed loudly, your phone blowing up just like before, this time with a mixture of texts, calls, twitter notifications, instagram, news, all of it. Leaning over Seung Hyun's side, you grabbed your phone giggling as you felt him press his lips to your neck quickly before you laid back down on the bed, feeling your heart drop as you read the first notification on your screen.

'GLOBAL POP-STAR Y/N L/N SEEN SHARING INTIMATE KISS WITH CHOI SEUNG HYUN ALSO KNOWN AS T.O.P FROM K-POP'S BOY GROUP BIGBANG, OUTSIDE OF HER L.A. HOME'

Shit.

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First story after the face reveal! I'm so excited!! What do you think lovelies? A lil angsty, but I promise next part with be so much more fluffier!! <333

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Taglist!!!

@onyxmango

@ag02212023

@acehasmyheart

@mitchko11

@learninglinesintherainn

@seunghyunwifey

@alexandralibbre

@jajabro

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@lilou0401

@maenoakasuna

@ericityyy

@frangiipanii

@seunghyunwifey

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@i-might-be-vanny

@cheese10001

@live-laugh-lovef1

@c1delight

[cherry-coffees]

Silk Ribbons and Captured Hearts

Caitlyn x girly girl!reader

cw: 2K words | no warnings, just Caitlyn and her lovely femme <3

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

Caitlyn is infatuated with you.

Your relationship with Caitlyn is somewhere on the line between acquaintances and friends, running in the same high circles. Your family, much like the Kirammans, is respected and known within Piltover. You've met Caitlyn on many occasions: galas, banquets, other fancy events your parents had dragged you to. 

Most of your time spent together had come from conversing casually at events, or during council meetings whenever you both had been waiting for your parents to finish their work. You’re a few years younger than Caitlyn, so she had offered to help you with any work you had been doing at Piltover Academy. You were a good student as well, matching her intellect. Caitlyn, despite trying to focus on your homework, would find her gaze drawn to you. Watching your eyes light up whenever you talked about something you were interested in, a small, unconscious smile gracing your lips, had easily captivated her.

That was when you were both younger, though. Now, she can't help but take notice of the beautiful woman you had become. All short skirts and fitted tops, sundresses and carefully chosen accessories, you’re like a warm sunbeam that Caitlyn can’t draw her eyes away from. 

It all starts with Caitlyn going shopping in the main streets of Piltover, and she steps into a local boutique filled with cute clothes and handmade jewelry. It's not really her style, but her eyes catch on a stand filled with silk ribbon, and it reminds her of the ribbons you occasionally wear in your hair. And oh, you'd just look so pretty in that shade of purple and-

She leaves with three of them.

A few days later, you’re at a statue unveiling of some old general in Piltover’s army, and Caitlyn sees you again. And fuck you just look so pretty in your white maxi skirt and cropped tank that shows off just a hint of midriff, and Caitlyn can’t stop staring. She finally gets herself together, glancing down at the lavender silk ribbon in her hand. Should she give it to you now? Should she wait? What if you didn’t like it? Worse, what if you don’t like her even after figuring out she’s smitten with you?

Caitlyn immediately clams up, deciding it’s better to give it to you anonymously. She darts off to the area where everyone’s bags and coats are under the guise of finding something she had forgotten in her bag. Once there, she grabs a notepad from her own bag and writes a note:

I thought this would look lovely on you. 

Yours,

Anonymous 

After attaching it to the ribbon and quietly slipping back into the crowd, Caitlyn can’t really focus on the ceremony. She tries, she really does, but the sound of your casual laughter in conversation unwillingly draws her attention. She also tries not to eye you when you politely make conversation with Caitlyn’s own parents, but, well, she’s long since given up on that one. Maybe she’ll have better self-control in the future.

______

Any thoughts of self-control die the moment you step into the coffee shop where Caitlyn is sitting with Jayce. Because you’re just so beautiful, wearing some lavender sundress and sandals and holy shit is that-?

Caitlyn’s mouth goes dry at the sight of the silky lavender ribbon in your hair — the one she had bought for you — tied around two pigtails hold your hair half-up. She can’t tear her eyes away, even as you step up to order and smile brightly at the barista. So much so that Jayce turns around to see what she’s looking at before turning back to her with a puzzled expression. “Uh, Cait? You good?”

She snaps her jaw shut, nodding tightly. “Yeah,” she lets her eyes linger on you for a second longer. “Everything’s perfectly fine.”

Jayce glances in your direction once again before a knowing smile dawns on his face. “Oh,” he turns back to Caitlyn, eyes smug and teasing. “You like-"

“Shut up,” Caitlyn hisses, glaring deeply at him, half because she doesn’t want you to overhear this and half because she doesn’t want Jayce to have another thing to hold over her. 

Jayce just raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of tea as if waiting for her to explain.

Caitlyn just sighs, glancing down at her own pristine teacup. “I- how can I not?” She mumbles, glancing at you. “She’s, well…perfect.”

________

And because you just had to go and look so ridiculously, effortlessly, beyond gorgeous in the lavender ribbon, of course Caitlyn has to go and buy five other colors. Because who is Caitlyn if not willing to spend her seemingly endless amounts of money on the little things her love crush likes. A tiny part of her also preens at seeing you so happy to wear something she gave you, as if she’s subtly showing everyone that you’re hers. But she’d never admit to that, of course.

And every time she manages to slip you a ribbon, she leaves another tiny note.

These suit you so much, I thought it would be a shame not to have more.

I think this color will look so nice with your hair.

Please take these ribbons as my way of telling you how beautiful you are.

Your ribbon collection continues to build: baby pink, forest green, crimson red, the lightest grey that reminds you of clouds on a cozy winter morning. You smile every time you find a new one in your bag, keeping the notes safely tucked away in a small box in your closet. You read them from time to time, gently tracing a finger over the words as if you can feel the affection they convey. 

Experimentally, with all this ribbon, you don’t confine it to just your hair. You tie it around your ankle, thinking it looks cute (Caitlyn agrees, smiles way too long when she sees it on you in passing). Then, around your wrists: a pair of bows. And when you show up at her house to drop off something from your family to the Kirammans, Caitlyn’s eyes go wide when she catches sight of the ribbon carefully tied around your upper thigh — just peeking out from the short skirt you’re wearing. 

Holy fucking shit is all Caitlyn manages to register in her mind. She doesn’t pay attention to whatever you’re talking about with her mother. She just pays attention to the gift she gave you, a symbol of her, tied around your thigh. She’s highly tempted to step forward and grab the end of it, untying it just to replace it with her hand and squeeze-

Pull yourself together.

And she does, barely. Manages to mumble out a few weak words as you depart, missing the smug smile that graces your features as you turn to leave. Misses the way you turn a little faster than necessary so your skirt spins and she gets another view of the ribbon wrapped around your thigh. You leave, Cassandra goes on with her business, and all is normal again.

You’re a strong presence in Caitlyn’s dreams that night.

______

And then one day, there’s a knock on Caitlyn’s office door, and she calls an official-sounding “come in” only for you to enter. Caitlyn stands up a little too quickly, clearing her throat and straightening her uniform. She moves out from behind her desk to face you. “This is- uh- a surprise,” Caitlyn murmurs, eyes flitting to the navy blue ribbon laced through your high ponytail, your hair half up. She’s sure she hasn’t bought you a navy ribbon yet.

“My father sent me to ask if the gala for your mother’s birthday next week will still be in your ballroom?” You ask, shifting nervously. It’s a simple question, one that you don’t really need an answer to.

Luckily, Caitlyn is too distracted to notice. She just blinks, forcing her mouth to move. “Um, right. Yes, it’s going to be held there.”

You nod, your eyes locked with her piercing blue ones. “Okay. Yeah. Sorry for the interruption, I just happened to be nearby and he, uh, wanted to know.”

Even still, Caitlyn only half registers your weak excuse. Her eyes narrow at the ribbon. It’s different than the silky ones she’s bought you: thinner and less shiny. So, instead of formulating one of her usual, sensible responses to you, she can’t help but let her curiosity spill out. “Your ribbon.”

“My-" you touch your hair lightly. “My ribbon?”

“Where is it from?” She asks, flatly. For the past weeks, the only ribbon you've been wearing has been the ones she's been giving you. Was this an old one of yours? Did you buy it recently? Or is it from someone else? Something in her chest tightens at the last idea.

She’s not prepared for the smile you flash her. “Well” you sigh, tilting your head a little as if the answer is obvious. “I thought that since my anonymous gifter keeps buying me ribbon, I should have one in her color.”

…

Wait.

It takes a second of blank staring before Caitlyn’s jaw drops. “You-" she stumbles in her wording — an extremely rare occasion she’s been taught to avoid. But all her composure is lost with you.

“Me,” your smile holds a hint of satisfaction that Caitlyn kind of just wants to scream at. Or kiss off your face. Either one.

“You knew?!” Her tone is incredulous, like she’s been so secretive that she can’t conceive how you found out she was the one gifting you these ribbons. “How?!”

“First of all, I know your handwriting. Remember how you gave me corrections on my schoolwork when we were younger and our parents had council meetings?”

“I-" Caitlyn stutters, a hue of pink dusting her cheeks. 

“And second,” you continue, not quite done. “You haven’t been very subtle about it. You seem to forget something in your bag at every event we’re at together, and then the ribbon happens to appear in mine after you come back.”

Caitlyn’s quiet for a few moments. “Oh.”

You smile. "Yeah, oh."

Caitlyn's blue eyes meet your own, devoid of her usual composure to show her slight nerves. "So...?" her voice is almost anxious.

"So," you repeat, gently reaching up to touch the navy ribbon in your hair again. The one that perfectly matches her navy Enforcer's uniform she's wearing right now. "I wore this...for you."

Caitlyn takes a shaky breath, heart pounding. "Does that mean-?"

She's cut off by your soft lips against her own. Your kiss is gentle and chaste, just a peck, and she barely has enough time to process what's happening before you pull away. "I like you," you say, your smile turning shy.

Caitlyn blinks at you, dazed. She's normally always so in command, so in control of her every action — whether that's in her Enforcer duties or her sharpshooting competitions or just her life in general — but with you, all hope of control always seems to fade. 

She steps even closer to you, gently reaching out a hand to trail along your cheek. "I like you too," she murmurs, and this time, you fear you're the one that's losing your composure because her gaze looks so loving and tender that it makes your cheeks burn. 

And when Caitlyn kisses you again, deeper this time, you allow yourself to sigh against her lips. She kisses you as if you're something fragile, something to be treasured and cared for. And you know, in that moment, that she'll do anything for you.  That, if you asked for the moon, she'd personally find away to fly amongst the stars to take it for you. 

"Are you mine?" Caitlyn asks the second she pulls away with a gentle nip to your bottom lip that makes you shiver. 

"I always have been," you mumble, letting yourself bury your face in her shoulder to hide your flushed cheeks. 

And Caitlyn just smiles, her arms snaking around your waist to pull you against her chest. "That's all I could ever ask for, darling."

[aurorangen]

Bryce has always been fond of Jay, so it was only inevitable that Leif would be asked about him. Over the phone, hiding the fact of their estranged relationship was easier, but in person Leif felt so exposed.

Transcript & Context:

Bryce: Louis is in blue and Harvey green, without these colours you can't tell them apart! [Leif looks at the photos while listening to Bryce talk about his life] Bryce: Well anyway, that's enough blabbering from me. How's your Jay doing? With the music and everything?

[In all honesty, Leif doesn't know, though it left him wondering if Bryce knew about their estranged relationship. He knows that Renee and Jay are close, but how much did they share? He managed a melancholic smile] Leif: Eh, same old. He's doing just fine without me, what about Renee?

Bryce: Doing amazing! She's going back to work next month. Man, I had doubts about her being a detective, you know how dangerous it can be. Have I told you this before? A year of studying history then changed to criminology and I said are you sure sweetie? But she was adamant about it. Billy being there makes me more at ease-

Bryce: …That's her dream job, can't get in the way, can I? And look where she is now! [Leif felt punched in the gut. He bought the record label for Jay's dream and that was it. No contact at all] Leif: Hey are you free this weekend? Let's go out to eat somewhere.

Bryce: OoOohhh Leif Pollock, are you asking me out for dinner? Leif: …[chuckles] You're the same as always Bryce. Bryce: I'll take that as a compliment mate. Text us the details and I'll let Leilani know too!

Writer's note: Leif doesn't want to admit to Bryce that he has been a bad father to Jay. The last time he heard about him was with Miracle then went on to buy the record label (1/2/3). Leif didn't bother to make contact, nor did Jay, so that's why he knows nothing about how he is doing in the time that has passed. Also if you know me, I pay too much attention to detail in my posts and am very picky with my ages and timeline lmao. All the events from here to now, happen in 3 years which in my head are the red squares in @/duusheen posts (saying this because you are getting a glimpse into Leif's perspective with Bryce being here and them being good friends and Leif should be old but we keep quiet about that shh) and time jumps between my posts vary from hours to months or happen simultaneously!

The only unrealistic thing with timing are the cases, which I want to span over the generation. This is a whole lot of unnecessary rambling, but yeah, my thought process 🤓

[cypherlune]

OPEN RP

PSA: This RP is a part one of a 3 part open RP series over the next.... two weeks? Yes Evelyn might forget some of you... because ✨angst✨. This RP will be doing a really deep dive into her backstory, which does contain some trauma and stuff. So uhhhh yeah. The Blue Beam may make a short appearance too. Enjoy! TW: mention of Abuse --------------------------------------------------- You hadn't heard from Evelyn for almost 2 weeks now. This wasn't super unusual, because sometimes she was on a really covert mission or fixated on work. But she always told you when she was gonna disappear. Not always why, but she'd always tell you. And something told you that this was different. You had searched her room, asked the Avengers to keep tabs on her apartment back in North Carolina (her old adoptive parents house), and still nothing. You were getting worried. But you knew that she was strong. [Timeskip to about 1 week earlier] Evelyn had known this day would come someday. The day when her longtime captors would come for her eventually. And catch her. Why did she have to be tired at that moment? All these thoughts rushed through her head as HYDRA scientists surrounded the room and prepared something. She knew what they were going to try to do. Extract the code from her head if she didn't tell them. . "Hello petit fille." Her old handler sneers in her face. God she hated him. The years of harrassment and pain from him clearly showed in her eyes. She stared back up at him, her teal eyes shining with determination. "You know I wont just give you the code." She said, trying to be brave. "Oh we know." Her handler said with a wicked grin, stepping back to let the scientists strap her in. They didn't manage to get the code out of her head, but they managed to wipe all of her memories. Only her HYDRA conditioning remained. Not the Blue Beam, (though HYDRA will call her that) but Evelyn, working for HYDRA. She began doing work almost immediately. Their best assassin now under their control again. [back to normal] You got news from someone on how there was an assassin going around killing people as of late. You groaned. You knew what this meant. She was back, and you couldn't stop her. If you could break through the Blue Beam mind control.... no. This is different. Not the Alter ego. You immediately pack up your stuff, a small backpack and put your suit on to look for her. You find her in an alleyway, just finishing up an assassination. She had her back turned to you, suit in stealth mode (the glowing turquoise on her suit is dimmed to a dark teal) and her hood up. "Evelyn?" You whisper quietly. Hoping somewhere in there she was there. [part one, part two in like 4 days after everyones Rp'd with this one] tags: @the-good-redheaded-witch @crazyinlovewithmarvel (idk what rp blog u wanna use so) @serenastark-official @hydrabucky @thebestmerc-1 @over-bi-the-wayside @goddess-of-birds @little-lost-prince @luna-draven @nadia-stark-official @your-fav-russian-assassin @alliestatefanficworld tag others and feel free to join if you want (even ppl who have never interacted)