#they then spend quite sometime explaining the wonders of dancing to me

[issak]

The BIG pretty lady in the G̵̢͉͊̒̈́o̵̡͙͙͛͒͠r̸̼͕͑͊͠g̸̘̟͚̓̔͑e̸̘̙̦͌̚͝o̸̞͓̔͒̕͜u̸͉̦̽͛̓s̸̺̞̫͐̀̚ leather dress woke me up by kissing me on the forehead after I told her I didn't want to dance with her on the abandoned western town, her dance partner was grooving in the background while she was holding my hands.

I can't remember their faces, or the color of their skin, or the color/shape of their hair, or the sound of their voices, what I remember is that they were REALLY TALL, almost twice my height, and that the lady was wearing a very "complex" B̷l̷a̷c̷k̷ v̷e̷i̷l̷ and that her dress was this intricate layered glossy material, that moved like echoes, split down the center were more layers could be seen.

Everything seemed fine, there was no dread, no immediate threats, no ominous music, I can't even remember if there WAS music, for all I know they were dancing to the sound of the wind and the warmth of the sun, I think it was logical for me to have agreed to her offer, she was warm, she might have been wearing gloves, and her smile was so soooo pretty, and most importantly I felt "safe"

I think the guy was wearing some sort of shiny black leather pants ? And had....long hair...maybe?

They were funny (I did not smile), even goofy (I wasn't laughing), and they were oh so charming/ welcoming, but despite ALL that, something DEEP DEEP in my "core" just DID NOT WANNA, simple, there was no fear, or shyness, or contempt, no instinctual reason, I felt fine, THEY made FEEL fine, the whole "scene" made me feel juuuust fine, but like a toddler throwing a tantrum in a display of the most basics of wants and needs I Truly (verbatim) "Did not wanna" .

I think she got that, I think she understood that there was nothing she could do to make me "want" to D̶a̶n̶c̶e̶ with them, nothing she could change about the dream that would make me change my mind, because by all accounts, I should have wanted to dance, I was there, in that alley way, we were holding hands, the answer was but guaranteed, I had been grooving on my own in that dark empty ice ring before they approached me, and it was so bright and sunny when I was with them, and I felt just FINE and she was so pretty and her smile was so warm

But my honest, purest desire at the time was

"I don't wanna"

[starful-emporium]

that finale made me so emotional. i cried at all of their scenes in Ankarna's realm. anyway, here's some bad kids senior year head canons.

Kristen: Her wish for a sister is filled by Bucky, crying in her room late at night and praying together. After talking to Jawbone they learn that there are grounds to remove Bricker and Cork from their parents' home. Kristen is the only one given the option of emancipation--instead, she asks Jawbone to adopt her as well.

She falls back onto old patterns with Tracker. But they're a little older and wiser, so they see it happening and take a step back. Not a break up, but a readjustment. With her academics finally not reliant on deadlines, Kristen dedicates herself to her pantheon. They work with Lucy to bring Ruvina back to her sister, and Kristen finds herself in awe of the dedication she sees.

Fig: She puts all her time into the Bottomless Pit, something it desperately needs. Often she tells Sandra-Lynn she's sleeping at Gilear's, and vice versa, and stays with Ayda instead. On her 18th birthday her parents sit her down and explain that she can live with Ayda officially, if she wants to. Just as long as she remembers she'll always have a room with both of them.

She brings Sandra-Lynn on Complicated Women, first to interview, and then as a permanent guest host. They talk about womanhood as something living and changing and queer and complicated. It's her mom who encourages her when Lola Embers drops Ruben. They rally all the rock-hating souls and cordon off part of the recording studio. Fig never goes in there, but from what she's heard, his music has gotten better in the absence of Kipperlilly's judgement.

Fabian: Somehow, he ends up being the one to train the new dog. The Hangman is jealous to a ridiculous degree, so he spends a lot of time managing that. He starts looking into a sea-worthy vessel for after graduation, spends hours at the Compass Points Library learning how to navigate. Learning sea shanties is part of all that, of course, and has nothing to do with the way his baby sibling stares at him while he practices.

Mazey teaches dance to kids while he finishes school. She's so kind it almost hurts, and Fabian has no choice but to learn to accept love. He "lets" Gorgug skip Bloodrush under the condition of weekly movie nights, which only sometimes are expanded to the rest of the Bad Kids. The radio in his room crackle to life sometimes, with little messages from Bill when he's close enough to the material plane.

Riz: Appointed as vice president, he quits all but the AV club. He makes a bedtime pact with Sklonda, and for the first time in a very long time, they are both getting enough sleep. Someone mentions ace and aro identities to him, and he's awake enough for it click.

He finds a new scholarship for Aguefort students, and it looks scam-y so he does some investigating. It easily traces right back to Seacaster gold and Fabian. He's thankful for the cover and accepts the money with an understanding that they won't talk about it. He doesn't check, but the scholarship is offered every year after that.

Adaine: She spends the summer with Aelwyn tracking down their mom. She doesn't need revenge, but she needs to know her mom will never hurt anyone ever again. She feels Ankarna in the hot sun and wonders if that's the difference between revenge and justice. They take the long way back to Solace, the Hand-van paddling across the ocean.

When school starts, she works with Kristen to turn her inheritance into resources. Student who can pay for some of their components still do, but everyone gets what they need to learn. On the first day of class, she's asked about her summer prophecies, and tells off Tiberia for relying on her for lessons.

Gorgug: His senior year MCAT is signed on the first day by Lydia, who's teaching barbarian classes for the year. She gives him permission for independent study, and Henry gives him a shop key so he can do classwork whenever he wants. The rest of his time is spent perfecting Barbificer skills and creating a program to run at Aguefort the next year.

Mary Ann offers her quokky pet skills to help remodel his homonculous. The result is much cuter and more functional than before. She still names her highest level pet Cloaca in honor of the original, much to Gorgug's chagrin.

After graduation, the Bad Kids move in trios and pairs, and they always reconvene on the Summer Solstice, the anniversary of Ankarna's resurrection.

Kristen splits her time between Solace and Fallinel and Mountains of Chaos, the places where temples to her pantheon stand. Adaine and Riz rent an apartment in Bastion City, where they both continue school. Gorgug stays in Elmville, teaching at Aguefort and working on the side to start his own school. Fabian takes to the sea, bringing Fig and Ayda and Mazey with him.

They save the world again, a few times, but only when they want to.

[my-name-is-apollo]

Okay I do tend to ignore some of the lore surrounding Zagreus, but I have to admit I am seeing a particular appeal in the versions where Zagreus, after being torn apart, is put together often by Apollo. To me, it's such a good opportunity to explore what death looks like for a god.

I don't mean physical death, of course. Greek gods are deathless, so Zagreus cannot truly die - it makes sense to me. So I like to entertain the idea that he will live, but never be quite the same ever again after being put back together. He's no longer the beloved god he used to be. His remains were given away to be buried. Almost everyone believes his story has ended, that he's gone. But he lives on, like the unsatisfied ghost of a dead mortal. He mostly spends his time in Delphi, in and around Apollo's temple where he was supposed to be buried.

His heart had been taken away and used to birth another being who will ascend to godhood. He is a part of Dionysus now; but also, not really. He almost envies Dionysus for the life he gets to live. But this new god has the same heart as his, and so he will also suffer like Zagreus did. He will also lose himself and feel scattered. Zagreus can only hope that when that happens, Dionysus can be put back together in a way that doesn't make him feel hollow.

Growing up, Dionysus often wondered if he was born cursed, because how else can the nightmares that frequent him be explained? Sometimes during the winter revelries at Delphi, he feels his heart wanting to leap out of his body when he dances around Apollo's temple. He thinks it is just the ecstasy of the festival but when he wakes up in a cold sweat after a long night of celebration on mount Parnassus, he can swear that he was being watched in his sleep.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Snow Globe

| "You two are dancing in a snow globe, 'round and 'round. And he keeps the picture of you in his office downtown. And you understand now why they lost their minds and fought the wars." |

Soarynn Snow weaves her way through the busy Capitol crowds while doing her best to remain effortless and elegant.

But that's a hard thing to be when it's freezing and you're dragging a four-year-old behind you.

"Mommy, where're we going?"

Soarynn looks up at the gray sky, it might snow today according to their weatherman Lucky Flickerman, that would be nice, a little snow, the fireplace warming their home while they all sip hot chocolate on the sofa. "We're going to the store darling," she tells her daughter, "we have to get something for your father."

"Why can't he get it himself?"

Soarynn often wonders the same thing but she always catches herself, Coriolanus works extremely hard to provide for their family, so on the rare chance like today when he needs her to pick something up for him last minute, she remains endlessly gracious and understanding. Even though sometimes she wishes he could just get someone else to do it.

"Because he's at work right now," she explains, pulling them along the sidewalk, "and he needs this as soon as possible."

Soarynn had been prepared to spend her Friday at home, in her pajamas while making cookies with her daughter Ceraphina. Instead, her husband called around thirty minutes ago, telling her that he needed a gift to be picked up from a nearby department store as soon as possible.

"It's an emergency darling," he had said over the phone, "I forgot all about getting my boss a gift for the baby shower he's having. I already called the store, all you need to do is pick it up and bring it to me."

So Soarynn quickly got dressed and made herself presentable, and then did the same with Ceraphina. They couldn't afford to be as fashionable as she would've liked, but they were on a bit of a deadline according to his urgent tone.

The task was simple enough, go to the department store, get the gift, go to his office, and deliver the gift. In the end, she was a hero.

"So we're on a secret mission?"

Soarynn looks down at her daughter who looks so excited to be running a last-minute errand with her mother.

Soarynn is someone who values routine and she's done her best to instill that into Ceraphina as well. Since Ceraphina could talk, she's gone over their schedule for the week, letting the child know what she should expect for the next seven days. She felt it was good for her young mind to know what was coming, to remain calm in knowing that nothing would change.

Now that she's older, they'll go over their schedule every Sunday night at dinner with Coriolanus, so today's errand must be quite thrilling for her.

"It's not much of a secret," Soarynn admits, "more of a special mission." Ceraphina giggles and Soarynn pulls them towards a very tall building where several department stores reside inside of it. "Are we gonna go to Daddy's office?" Soarynn pulls the heavy doors open and sighs when she feels how warm it is inside. She personally hates the cold, Coriolanus has never been bothered by it but she certainly has.

She misses summer.

"Yes we are," she confirms, walking up to a directory of all the stores, "now let's see, we're here, and we need to be...ah, there it is, third floor." To her dismay, there is no elevator which means she has to walk up a lot of stairs in heels.

She'll be sure to give Coriolanus an earful about this when she sees him.

Ceraphina thinks of it as a fun game though, jumping or skipping up the steps while giggling. At least one of them is having fun. By the time they make it to the third floor, Soarynn is out of breath. "Let's go, Mommy!" Ceraphina calls, running towards the store. Soarynn follows behind her at a much slower pace, "I'm coming, darling."

Soarynn eyes grow bigger when she sees how beautifully this store has been decorated for the holidays, Christmas trees, green garlands, red ribbons, and sparkling lights. She should be taking notes for their penthouse next year.

"We need to find the baby section," Soarynn tells her, scanning the racks of clothing. She remembers Coriolanus talking about how he needed to get his boss something for his baby who was going to be born in early January. Looks like he forgot about that.

"Are we having another baby?"

Soarynn swallows at her daughter's question because she would love to have another baby, or two, or three. Ceraphina is just so perfect so any other children would have to be as well.

"No," she says slowly, "not right now but someone else is and we need to get them a gift."

"Okay!"

Soarynn will miss these moments, next fall Ceraphina will be off to school and Soarynn will be left with a lot of time on her hands. Maybe another baby isn't such a bad idea.

They wander around the store for a while until they stumble upon the section where tiny little clothes hang on the racks. Soarynn can feel the baby fever kicking in, maybe they can start trying tonight. Coriolanus certainly enjoyed the benefits of her being pregnant and more needy, and Soarynn just loved sporting a baby bump.

"These are so little," Ceraphina says, reaching up to touch a small pair of shoes on a shelf. Soarynn smiles, smoothing down her hair, "You used to fit into those, you were so tiny." Oh, she was so precious, so little and sweet. Maybe this is just the push she needed to start trying for another baby.

"My dolls can wear those shoes," Ceraphina points out, "can we get the baby a doll?" Soarynn shakes her head, giving her daughter a soft smile, "No darling, your father already purchased the gift, we just have to pick it up. Now let's go over to the counter and ask for it." They walk over to the counter where a saleswoman is typing away on the register, "Excuse me, my husband called earlier and placed an order. His name is Coriolanus Snow and he sent me to pick it up for him," Soarynn explains.

The woman nods and types in a few more things, "Yes, I can see the order right here. Do you have some form of identification?"

Soarynn nods, "Of course."

She opens her purse and pulls out her wallet, brandishing her citizen's license to the saleswoman who glances over it before nodding, "It'll be just a moment, I'll be right back ladies."

Ceraphina wraps her fingers around the counter's edge while Soaryn puts her wallet back in her purse, "She called me a lady Mommy."

Soarynn chuckles, Ceraphina is very well-mannered for a girl her age but Soarynn knows how eager she is to be older so she can wear makeup and fancy shoes like her mother. "You certainly are a little lady," Soarynn agrees, "maybe after we stop by the office we can get some lunch."

Soarynn had breakfast but that was hours ago and Ceraphina always loves it when they eat out at a restaurant. She'll have to make a reservation for Christmas Eve, Coriolanus already bought them tickets to the ballet since Ceraphina has been begging to go. She's fascinated by the ballerinas and their pretty costumes.

Soarynn and Coriolanus have discussed enrolling her in lessons so this will be a good test to see how serious she is about it.

The saleswoman comes back with a shiny black bag and a smile, "Here you are Mrs. Snow, enjoy the rest of your day."

Soarynn returns her smile and nods, "Thank you so much, enjoy your day as well."

Ceraphina offers to carry the bag but that lasts about ten seconds before she hands it back to Soarynn, "Mommy, what's over there?" She asks, pointing at a very large decorative display near the women's section. Soarynn tilts her head, unable to see what it really is, "I don't know darling, let's go see what it is."

They walk a little closer and Soarynn can see a fancy-looking camera and a large green sofa, and what looks like a man sitting on it.

"Santa!"

Ceraphina runs over to the display, roped off with velvet ropes and Soarynn quickly realizes that the store has hired a Santa for the children to take pictures with. Ceraphina jumps up and down, looking at Santa then back at Soarynn, "Mommy can I say hello? Please, please, please may I say hello?"

Soarynn sighs, these things are sweet but also the bane of every parent's existence when they're in a rush to get somewhere. But she can see how badly Ceraphina wants to meet Santa and there's no one else in line. She checks her watch, they're doing good on time and Coriolanus will understand.

"Alright," she finally gives in, "but it'll have to be quick."

Ceraphina squeals and runs over to Soarynn, throwing her arms around her legs, "Thank you, Mommy! You're the best Mommy ever!"

She's heard that one before.

"Mhm, now go say hello," Soarynn tells her, giving Ceraphina a gentle push.

The photographer unhooks the velvet rope and Ceraphina smiles up at him, "Thank you!"

She skips right over to Santa who looks bored out of his mind but he picks up the act once he sees a child approaching him "Well, hello there little girl. What's your name?"

Ceraphina stops in front of him, hands behind her back, head held high, "Ceraphina Snow. C-E-R-A-P-H-I-N-A S-N-O-W."

Santa looks very impressed. "My goodness, looks like you know a lot. Do you know what you'd like for Christmas?"

While Ceraphina leans in to whisper her big wish, the photographer hands Soarynn a piece of paper with photo packages listed on it. She frowns, "Oh, we don't need a photo, thank you though."

"In order to speak to Santa, you have to take a photo," the photographer says, putting a hand on his hip. Soarynn scoffs, what a scam!

"Fine," she says, handing the paper back to him, "we'll take your cheapest option."

She looks back over at Ceraphina who's still going and they need to get a move on, "Ceraphina darling, smile for a picture!"

Ceraphina gasps and hops onto the sofa next to Santa, putting on her best smile.

"Say 'Merry Christmas'!" The photographer says, clicking the camera. A blinding flash goes off and Ceraphina slides off the sofa, "Remember," she says to Santa, "a pink one, not a blue one."

Santa nods, "I'll tell my elves that."

Ceraphina runs back over to Soarynn, giddy with excitement, "What did you ask for?"

Ceraphina puts a finger up to her mouth, "I can't tell you 'cause it's only for Santa to know." Soarynn raises her eyebrows, whatever she asked for sounded very specific. She might have to come back and ask Santa what her request was.

"Here are your photos," the photographer says, holding them out to Soarynn with a limp wrist and attitude. She snatches them out of his hand and bestows her fakest smile onto him, "Have a good day," she says, walking off with Ceraphina.

"We got pictures?"

"We got scammed, is what we got," Soarynn tells her, flipping through the photos, "but they are very cute pictures. We can put them on the fridge." She hands them over to Ceraphina who looks at each individual photo of her and Santa with fascination.

"Are we going to Daddy's office now?"

Soarynn prepares herself for the stairs and the cold, "We sure are."

꧁ ꧂

After dealing with that snippy photographer, the welcome Soarynn and Ceraphina are given the second they step into the office building is greatly appreciated.

Due to his high status within the company, Coriolanus is highly respected and a little bit feared, which means when his family comes to visit, they're treated like royalty.

"Mrs. Snow, Ms. Snow," the receptionist greets them, "welcome back, let me get the elevator for you, and your coats."

Soarynn shrugs off her long black coat and Ceraphina does the same, thanking the receptionist, "Can I press the button?" Ceraphina asks, bouncing on her toes with excitement. She loves pressing elevator buttons, and it's cute until she picks the wrong floor.

"Do you remember what floor he's on?" Soarynn asks, poking Ceraphina who giggles, "Yes! Daddy is on the tippy-top floor because Snow lands on top," Ceraphina tells her matter-of-factly.

The kid knows her stuff.

"That would be correct," Soarynn says when the doors open up. They step inside and Soarynn makes sure that Ceraphina presses the correct button, all the way up to the twenty-fifth floor. "Can I give one of my Santa pictures to Daddy?"

Soarynn looks down at all the pictures in Ceraphina's hands, there certainly is a lot, she just wonders if Coriolanus wants a photo of his daughter posing with a random man wearing a red suit and a fake beard.

"We'll have to ask him," is all she says.

The elevator dings and they're finally here. Well, finally on the right floor at least.

The doors open up to another, smaller lobby with another front desk and a very pretty-looking Christmas tree tucked away in the corner. Ceraphina runs ahead to the desk and stands on her tip-toes, peeking over the wooden surface, "Hi Ms. Eudora!"

Eudora Trinket is the head secretary of the twenty-fifth floor. She's fierce, well-organized, and has a soft spot for sweet children like Ceraphina who come to visit their fathers from time to time.

"Well hello dear, what brings you in today?" The older woman asks, giving Ceraphina her undivided attention. "We're bringing my Daddy a gift for his boss 'cause he forgot about it," she tells Eudora, causing Soarynn to regret giving her that much information.

Eudora looks more amused than anything, she knows Coriolanus quite well and Soarynn has witnessed her scolding the younger man a few times. It's good that he has someone to keep him on the edge.

"I see," Eudora says, looking up at Soarynn, "well he just got done with his meeting and should be in his office." Soarynn nods, offering her hand to Ceraphina, "Come on darling, we mustn't keep him waiting."

After saying goodbye to Eudora, Soarynn and Ceraphina make their way down the grand hallways of the twenty-fifth floor. These offices are the largest in the building according to Coriolanus who's quite pleased with his own office. There are several portraits hanging on the walls, all of the members of the company. Most of them are older men who either founded the company or have been here for decades.

But the newest painting has Coriolanus in it and Ceraphina loves to point at it every time they pass by. "There's Daddy," she points, looking up at her father's stern face in the portrait.

Soarynn hums and they turn the corner, nearing his office doors. Coriolanus has a corner office that gives him a great view of the city skyline. Ceraphina lets go of Soarynn's hand and runs over to his office doors, knocking on them with both fists.

"Daddy we're here!" She calls, not as quiet as Soarynn would like but most of the men on this floor don't mind, not when they have children of their own. A moment later, the doors open and Coriolanus is grinning down at his daughter, "I thought I heard someone running," he says, causing Ceraphina to look down at her feet.

Coriolanus has reprimanded her time and time again about never running indoors. A hard habit to break apparently. "I was excited to see you," she tries sweetly, pushing past him to go into his office. Coriolanus shakes his head and turns his attention to Soarynn who proudly shows off the black gift bag, "Delivered right to your doorstep," she tells him, smiling when he grabs her waist and pulls her closer.

"How should I tip you?" He asks, brushing his lips over her ear. Soarynn blushes, he's always been so charming, never ashamed to touch her or flirt with her even at work. "I have a few ideas," she mumbles, looking up at him with hopeful eyes.

Coriolanus chuckles, "Really? How darling?"

Soarynn can't contain her excitment any longer, she thought she could wait until he got home but she might as well plant this idea in his head now.

"I want another baby."

He sure as hell wasn't expecting that. His eyes widen and he almost falls backward before Soarynn grabs his arm with her free hand, "A...another baby?" He repeats, scratching the back of his neck. Soarynn hums, rocking back and forth on her heels, with Christmas coming up, it would be the perfect gift.

"Girl or boy," she says with a shrug, "I'm not picky."

She walks into his office, leaving Coriolanus to process her wish while Ceraphina runs around, touching everything she possibly can if it's in reach. "Don't touch that darling," Soarynn tells her when Ceraphina goes to touch an award Coriolanus was given by the company. It's a frosted glass ball with writing engraved on the glass, it almost looks like a snow globe which is probably why she wants to touch it.

Ceraphina pouts but doesn't complain, "Can we show Daddy my pictures with Santa?"

Soarynn sets her purse down on the nearby sofa, Coriolanus keeps his office tidy and that includes the sofa and chairs he has in the corner by the bookshelves. "Of course we can."

It seems that Coriolanus has recovered from her baby ambush and he closes the doors behind him, offering her a sheepish smile, "And you want me to start working on your gift soon?" He inquires, clearly excited about having sex with a greater goal involved rather than just an orgasm.

Soarynn smiles sweetly at him, batting her eyelashes, "As soon as possible please," she purrs.

"What gift Mommy?"

They both freeze at their daughter's innocent question, one an adult cannot truthfully answer at times, "Mommy asked for another cat," Soarynn smoothly answers, figuring it's a good lie since Coriolanus would never agree to get another cat. He can barely stand the one they have now.

Coriolanus nods, "Yes, she asked for another cat, wishful thinking if I've ever seen it but thank you both for being so swift to deliver this gift to me. I'm sure my boss will love it."

"I'm sure his wife will love it," Soarynn corrects, digging through her purse and pulling out the photos they got with Santa, "look who Ceraphina met."

His interest is piqued since Ceraphina doesn't meet a lot of people and Coriolanus reaches for the photo, "Who do we have here hmm? I see my beautiful Ceraphina and...and Santa? You met Santa without me?"

Ceraphina giggles from his teasing and runs over to him, throwing her arms around his leg, "Daddy he was at the store! I got to tell him what I wanted for Christmas and then we took a picture! And I used my best smile for the picture, didn't I Mommy?"

Soarynn places a loving hand on Ceraphina's hair, "Yes you did," she confirms. Soarynn knew that they'd be taking a lot of family photos once Ceraphina was born, and just photos in general and she knew how much Coriolanus would want any child of theirs to have a nice, sweet smile. He wouldn't stand for their child to make a fuss or whine about having to smile for long periods of time.

So once she was old enough, Soarynn had Ceraphina practice smiling in the mirror, getting the child used to the idea of using a good old Capitol smile. And it paid off tremendously, Ceraphina was absolutely precious whenever she smiled, always complimented for her good manners and attitude when it came to having her photo taken.

Coriolanus grunts and flips through all the photos, "Quite a few pictures," he notes and Soarynn rolls her eyes, remembering how she was swindled into paying for those. "Well we had to get a photo package," she says, "because nothing is free anymore."

Coriolanus smirks and ruffles the hair Soarynn just smoothed down on Ceraphina's head, "Well you look beautiful darling, just like a little princess." Ceraphina beams at his compliments, she's always been a daddy's girl and Coriolanus has been wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born. Soarynn thinks it's sweet how good he is with her, always so patient and gentle.

He'd burn the world down if someone ever tried to hurt her.

"When can we get lunch Mommy?" Ceraphina asks, always ready for a snack or a meal. Soarynn looks down at her watch, it's nearly noon. "I suppose we should start heading out," she muses, "everywhere is bound to be busy."

Coriolanus takes her hand and gives it a squeeze, "I get off in ten minutes for my lunch break, let me ask Eudora to book us a reservation."

Ceraphina gasps, delighted at the idea of having an impromptu lunch with both of her parents. With Coriolanus always at work, she spends the majority of her days with Soarynn so to have lunch with Coriolanus and Soarynn is a treat as special as any.

"Can we go to the place with the good pasta Mommy? Please, please, please?" She begs, letting go of her father's leg to cling to her mother's. Soarynn softly chuckles since she figured Ceraphina would ask about that restaurant, "We certainly can."

Coriolanus goes to call Eudora and Soarynn keeps Ceraphina entertained by holding her on her hip while they look at all the photos Coriolanus keeps on his bookshelf.

A lot of them are from events at work. Soarynn spots a few familiar faces in the photos, faces she went to school with and now they're working alongside Coriolanus with families of their own. It's amazing how quickly time passes. "Oh, there's Mr. Creed," Ceraphina points at Festus standing next to Coriolanus, neither of them smiling because men never smile for photos.

Soarynn nods, pressing a kiss to Ceraphina's cheek, "Very good darling, and there's your father getting promoted."

They look at the photograph of Coriolanus shaking hands with the owner of the company, Quintus Heavensbee. Soarynn remembers being there for the official ceremony where several men were appointed higher-paying jobs and Coriolanus had been one of them. She had been so proud, so happy for him and all of his hard work. He's worked so hard for them and that could never go unnoticed by her.

"There you are, Mommy!"

Soarynn looks at the next photo which happens to be a photograph from their wedding day. Ceraphina loves going through the photo album from their wedding, fascinated by Soarynn's wedding dress and all that took place before she was born.

The photo is a rather stiff one in Soarynn's opinion, it was in the paper if she recalls correctly and they had been instructed not to smile. Coriolanus has a hand wrapped around her waist while Soarynn stands next to him holding her white bouquet of roses. They make quite the handsome pair in her opinion.

"Where are the photos of me?" Ceraphina demands, trying to look over at Coriolanus who's shuffling through some paperwork. He points at a framed photograph sitting on his desk, "Right here darling, so I can always remember why I'm working so hard."

Soarynn rolls her eyes at his choice of words since he's used the same line on her once or twice. Ceraphina wiggles out of Soarynn's hold and runs over to see the photograph. Soarynn walks over as well, curious to see which photo it is.

Coriolanus isn't the most sentimental man, that's more in her field when it comes to their relationship but she knows how much he values family. She rounds his desk and rests a hand on the back of his chair while looking at the adorable photo of Ceraphina. She had to be at least three in this photo, with her blonde curls and blue eyes.

Soarynn sighs while remembering those sweet years. She has a pink bow in her hair and a big smile on her face. "I miss my curls," Ceraphina says, touching her now wavy hair. It almost looks straight some days which she has Soarynn to thank for. Coriolanus is the one sporting the curls in the Snow family. Ceraphina had them for quite some time but they've disappeared over the years.

"But now you look just like your Mommy," Coriolanus says proudly, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Ceraphina shrieks when he blows a raspberry against her skin and pushes him away, "Daddy! Ew!"

Coriolanus and Soarynn laugh and she looks over at another photo she never noticed before. It's a photo of her. She looks much younger, probably twenty years old, well before they were engaged. She's holding Petunia in the photo, laughing and from the looks of it, they're on the penthouse rooftop. She looks so happy, so carefree. She doesn't remember Coriolanus ever taking this picture but to know that he framed it means more to her than he'll ever know.

To know that he keeps a picture of her in his office downtown, along with a photo of Ceraphina reminds her that she married the right man. A man who loves her and loves their daughter.

"Eudora was able to get us a table," he tells her, craning his neck to look up at her from his chair. Soarynn smiles and gives the back of his neck a scratch, his favorite place, "Good, we should get going then."

꧁ ꧂

On the way back from the restaurant it starts to snow.

Soarynn watches Ceraphina skip down the sidewalk while holding her father's hand, pointing at different window displays. Soarynn wishes she could photograph this moment and keep it in her pocket forever.

They finally reach his office building and this is where goodbyes must be said.

"Can't we stay with you?" Ceraphina asks hopefully, doing her best to convince him but Coriolanus shakes his head, smiling at her attempts to sway him. "I'm afraid not my darling, I have lots of meetings to attend and you'd be terribly bored."

So would Soarynn and they still have to bake cookies.

"Okay," she says sadly, letting go of his hand, "thank you for lunch, Daddy." Coriolanus smiles, pleased she's using her manners, something else Soarynn has taught her over the years. Coriolanus loves to be thanked, words of affirmation are the key to his heart.

"You're very welcome my angel," he tells her, bending down to give her a proper goodbye kiss on the cheek. Ceraphina gives him one as well, along with a hug before Coriolanus stands back up to his full height. He grins as he pulls Soarynn by her coat sleeve, leaning down to kiss her goodbye. He goes in for a passionate kiss, one that catches her off guard considering they're on a public street in front of his office building but that's never stopped him before.

Soarynn rests a hand on his cheek and sighs into the kiss, they'll definitely start on that baby-making tonight. Now that she's planted the idea in his head, he has to see it through. That's just the type of person Coriolanus Snow is. When they finally pull away, Soarynn is out of breath, "Goodbye," she breathes, giving his cheek a soft pinch.

Coriolanus gives her one last kiss before letting her go, "Goodbye darling, thank you for bringing the gift." She'd forgotten all about the gift, so much has happened today. "I'll see you two tonight," he calls before the doors to the building close behind him. Soarynn and Ceraphina both wave and watch him until he's out of sight.

"That was so romantic," Ceraphina says with a dreamy sigh.

Soarynn takes her small hand and they begin walking in the direction of home, "Your father is rather romantic," she agrees, watching more snow fall onto the ground. "It's like we're in a snow globe," Ceraphina observes, sticking out her tongue in hopes of catching a snowflake.

Soarynn hums and begins to think about having another little snowflake of their own, a sibling for Ceraphina, another baby for her, and Coriolanus.

There was a time when she dreamed of becoming a mother, of getting married to a handsome man who loved her so deeply. She often wondered how she'd know when she met the one. Then she met Coriolanus and it was like the entire universe was saying the same thing over and over to her.

'You are in love.'

Indeed she is.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @kickmybark @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

[timeless-fanfic]

Hidden Currents (Version 2)

Word Count: 2325

Andrew x Reader

The early morning sun peeked over the hills, casting a soft, golden light across the Sea of Galilee. The water shimmered in the dawn, reflecting the quiet beauty of a new day. I found solace in these moments, standing at the edge of the shore, where the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the day to unfold.

"Morning."

The familiar voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I turned to see Andrew approaching, his steps sure and steady on the uneven ground. His presence was as constant as the sunrise, and yet, it always sent a ripple through me—a feeling I tried to push down, to keep hidden.

"Morning, Andrew," I replied, offering a small smile. "Up early again?"

He nodded, his gaze moving to the horizon. "Couldn’t sleep. Too much on my mind, I guess."

"Anything you want to talk about?" I asked, though I knew the answer. Andrew was not one to share his burdens easily. He carried them quietly, with a strength that drew people to him, even if he didn’t realize it.

"Nothing too serious," he said with a shrug. "Just...everything. You know how it is."

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure I did. My life, while busy, didn’t carry the same weight as his. Being one of Jesus’ disciples came with responsibilities and challenges I couldn’t fully understand, though I admired him deeply for it. Perhaps too deeply.

We stood in companionable silence, watching the light dance on the water. It was a quiet moment, but not without tension—at least, not for me. Andrew had a way of making me feel both at ease and completely on edge, a contradiction I couldn’t explain.

"You’ve been spending a lot of time here," Andrew said, breaking the silence. "By the water, I mean."

"It’s peaceful," I replied, hoping my voice didn’t betray the nervous flutter in my chest. "A good place to think."

"Yeah," he agreed, his tone thoughtful. "I guess that’s why I come here too."

There was something in his voice, a note of uncertainty that I wasn’t used to hearing from him. Andrew was always so sure, so confident in his actions and his words. But now, standing here beside me, he seemed...hesitant.

"Is something bothering you?" I asked, unable to stop myself.

He hesitated, then shook his head. "No, it’s just...sometimes I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. If I’m following the right path."

I frowned, surprised by his admission. "You mean with Jesus?"

Andrew nodded, but there was more to it. I could see it in the way his brows knit together, the way he seemed to struggle with his thoughts. "Not just that. I know following Him is right, but...sometimes, I wonder if I’m missing something. Or if I’m ignoring something that’s right in front of me."

His words struck a chord within me, though I wasn’t sure why. "What do you mean?"

He glanced at me then, his eyes searching mine as if he were trying to find the answer in my gaze. "I don’t know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It’s just a feeling I have—like there’s something I’m not seeing clearly. Something important."

My heart raced, thudding against my ribcage as I tried to make sense of what he was saying. Was he talking about us? About the way we danced around each other, never quite crossing the line between friendship and something more?

But before I could ask, Simon’s voice rang out from a distance, calling Andrew away. The moment broke, and Andrew sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I should go," he said, though he didn’t move right away. "Simon’s going to need help with the nets."

"Of course," I replied, forcing a smile. "I’ll see you later?"

"Yeah," he said, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer before he turned and walked away, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts.

The day passed in a blur of routine tasks, but my mind kept drifting back to that conversation by the shore. Andrew’s words echoed in my head, filling me with a mix of hope and doubt. Was he trying to tell me something? Or was I just reading too much into it, letting my own feelings color his words?

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts as I busied myself with mending a tear in one of the cloaks. The repetitive motion of the needle and thread usually calmed me, but today, it only served as a distraction—a poor one at that.

"You’re awfully quiet today," Mary observed, sitting beside me with her own mending. "Is something on your mind?"

I glanced at her, debating whether to share my thoughts. Mary was wise, with a way of seeing things clearly, but I wasn’t sure if I was ready to voice what I was feeling—not when I wasn’t even sure of it myself.

"It’s nothing," I said, focusing on my work. "Just thinking about this morning, I guess."

"With Andrew?" she asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp.

I paused, the needle hovering over the fabric. "How did you know?"

Mary smiled, a knowing look in her eyes. "I saw you two by the water earlier. You seemed...deep in conversation."

"It wasn’t anything serious," I said quickly, though I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to downplay it.

"Maybe not," Mary agreed, her smile softening. "But sometimes the things that seem small are the most important."

Her words gave me pause, and I found myself wondering if there was more truth to them than I wanted to admit. I had always told myself that what I felt for Andrew was nothing more than admiration—perhaps a bit of harmless affection. But now, I wasn’t so sure. And if Mary had noticed something, did that mean others had as well? Did Andrew notice?

"Do you think he feels the same way?" I blurted out, immediately regretting the question.

Mary’s smile widened, and she set down her work to give me her full attention. "I think...Andrew is a good man. But he’s also a bit dense when it comes to matters of the heart. He might not even realize what he’s feeling."

I bit my lip, her words hitting a little too close to home. "So you think...?"

"I think," Mary said gently, "that you should trust your instincts. If you care for him, let it be known. Sometimes, we just need a little nudge in the right direction."

Her advice was sound, but the thought of actually acting on it filled me with dread. What if I misread everything? What if I ruined our friendship? What if—?

But what if he felt the same way, and we were both too afraid to admit it?

I sighed, setting down my work and rubbing my temples. "I don’t know, Mary. It’s not that simple."

"Love rarely is," she replied, her tone kind. "But that doesn’t mean it’s not worth pursuing."

As the sun began to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, I found myself wandering back to the shore. The day’s events had left me restless, and I needed the calm of the water to soothe my frayed nerves.

To my surprise, I wasn’t the only one seeking solace by the sea. Andrew was there too, standing at the water’s edge, staring out at the horizon with a pensive expression. My heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but I hesitated, unsure if I should approach or leave him to his thoughts.

But before I could decide, he turned and saw me, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Hey."

"Hey," I replied, stepping closer until I was standing beside him. "Couldn’t sleep again?"

He chuckled softly. "No, not yet. I was just...thinking."

"About what?"

He glanced at me, and for a moment, I thought he might actually tell me. But then he looked away, his expression guarded. "Just...everything."

We stood in silence for a while, the waves gently lapping at the shore as the night slowly descended around us. There was a tension between us, one that had been growing for some time, and I knew we couldn’t keep avoiding it forever.

"Andrew," I began, my voice trembling slightly, "earlier, when you said you were worried you were missing something...what did you mean?"

He was quiet for a long time, his gaze fixed on the water as if the answer could be found in its depths. "I’m not sure," he admitted finally, his voice barely audible. "It’s just a feeling I have, like there’s something important I’m not seeing. Or maybe...something I’m too afraid to see."

My heart pounded in my chest, and I took a deep breath, gathering the courage to ask the question that had been burning in my mind all day. "Is it...about me?"

His head snapped up, his eyes wide with surprise. "What? No, I mean—yes, but not in the way you think. I just—"

He broke off, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like...there’s something between us, something I can’t quite figure out. But it’s there, and I don’t know what to do about it."

His words sent a thrill of hope through me, but also a wave of uncertainty. Did he feel the same way I did, or was he talking about something entirely different?

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what I was about to say. "Andrew... I think I know what you mean. There’s something I’ve been feeling too, something I’ve been afraid to admit."

His eyes met mine, wide and searching. "You do?"

I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. "Yes. But I’m scared. Scared that if I say it out loud, it might change everything between us. And I don’t want to lose what we have."

Andrew’s expression softened, and he took a step closer, his hand hovering near mine as if he wanted to reach out but wasn’t sure if he should. "I don’t want to lose what we have either. But...what if saying it could make things better? What if we’re both missing out on something because we’re too afraid to take that step?"

His words hung in the air between us, and I felt the weight of the moment pressing down on me. This was it—the point of no return. If I said what I was feeling, there would be no going back. But if I didn’t, I might regret it for the rest of my life.

I swallowed hard, my voice trembling as I finally spoke the words I had been holding back for so long. "Andrew, I... I think I love you."

The confession hung in the air, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise, and I held my breath, waiting for his reaction, fearing that I had made a terrible mistake.

But then, slowly, a smile began to spread across his face—a smile so full of warmth and relief that it made my heart ache. "You... you love me?"

I nodded, feeling a rush of emotions I couldn’t contain. "Yes. I’ve felt this way for a long time, but I didn’t want to say anything because I wasn’t sure if you felt the same. And I didn’t want to ruin what we have."

Andrew let out a breath he seemed to have been holding, and he finally took my hand in his, his grip gentle but firm. "I can’t believe it. I’ve been feeling the same way, but I kept telling myself that it wasn’t possible, that you couldn’t feel the same about me."

Relief flooded through me, and I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. "You have?"

He nodded, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand in a soothing motion. "Yes. But I was afraid to admit it, afraid that I was just imagining things. I didn’t want to risk losing you."

A laugh bubbled up from my chest, a mix of disbelief and joy. "We’ve both been so blind, haven’t we?"

Andrew laughed too, the sound filled with a lightness I hadn’t heard in a long time. "Yeah, I guess we have. But we don’t have to be anymore."

He gently pulled me closer, his free hand coming up to cup my cheek as he looked into my eyes. "I love you too. I’ve loved you for longer than I realized, and now that I’ve said it, I don’t want to go back to pretending I don’t."

The sincerity in his voice, the way his eyes shone with affection, made my heart swell with happiness. I leaned into his touch, feeling a warmth spread through me that I hadn’t known I was missing until now.

"Then let’s not go back," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "Let’s move forward together."

Andrew’s smile was soft and tender, and he leaned in, his forehead resting against mine as he whispered, "I’d like that."

And in that moment, everything felt right. The fear, the uncertainty—it all melted away, leaving only the truth that had been hidden between us for so long. We didn’t have to keep our feelings a secret anymore. We didn’t have to wonder what might have been.

We had each other, and that was all that mattered.

As the stars began to twinkle in the night sky, Andrew finally closed the distance between us, pressing a gentle, heartfelt kiss to my lips. It was a kiss filled with all the things we had left unsaid, with the promise of a future we were finally ready to embrace.

And as we stood there by the water, wrapped in each other’s arms, I knew that whatever came next, we would face it together—no more hiding, no more doubts. Just us.

[sigmaelxgr]

WIP show

Thank you @captain-of-silvenar for tagging me once again! To be honest, I dont spend much time on tumblr anymore except to have discussions and to share a few few things - I tend to forget I have an account here until some tag pops out of nowhere. I love them, and I'll try to give you some WIPs of mine. I've been working on young Xangr's diary. I have MANY pages of it and I'll try to translate them as correctly as possible... Now that it's my turn, I'll tag @yansurnummu and @lokorum!

So before we start, a little bit of context: We're years before the Planemeld. The coming piece of WIP comes from a whole diary that bears no date on it. It is at ESO days kept by the Mage Guild of Auridion, since it's trusted that it belonged to an ex-member of their cell and has been found in a Worm Cult nest. Here are the latest pages I'm working on (translated as I could) /!\ IT'S LONG :

[...]

[...] It's the strangest text so far. As I decipher and translate it, it keeps rearranging its characters. It annoys the crap out of me. The glyphs describe and can be used as an easy hook. That was the purpose of the Wayrest colleagues if I reckon and I think the project is about the same here. Among the non-orthogonal lines, I'm beginning to glimpse discreet characters impregnated with subreptice. They have an unpleasantly familiar aroma that I can't quite put my finger on yet. When I touch these irregular arrangements of symbols, they dance, belch and nauseate me. It's a putrid smell. I don't know what it's doing here, but keeping these sentences isolated from the rest might come in handy. I have an inexplicable certainty about it - the feeling that it will be useful to us. I should think about bringing him a bouquet of flowers. I think he'd like it and it would help us get back on track. We can't stay in this situation.

Have returned to the text. The sketches I've isolated have stopped moving and describe a phenomena that can barely take shape in our reality. I can easily deduce that they break the laws of the Veil and obey only their own. I'm intrigued, but I won't say anything to the others for the moment. I wait until I've finished the task and understood everything before sharing the news. The other stuff? Simple, wordy equations about transliminality. They'll be useful for those who need to be reminded how to count. I wonder when I stopped being impressed by all these signs. I even wonder why I understand them so well. I get the feeling that they're speaking directly to me, and that the language used on this dusty paper isn't what carries the point. I'm beginning to wonder about the languages of other planes. I read an interesting book the other day that I'd pulled out of the laboratory stash. There are theories about the probable immaterial nature of daedra essence. I'll explain when I'm done with this parchment. He told me today that I look pretty good for someone who lives with an infant. I think it's his disguised way of telling me that he suspects I'm not sleeping at home. I don't like it when he does that. I don't like his eyes. They burn, and the flowers haven't helped anything between us. I'm going to spend several nights back in the attic, until I feel he's less concerned by my absences.

Back this evening. They made progress on my work but didn't feel the potential of the verses I extracted from all the paragraphs. It's only me who feels the call, obviously. I'm tired, and the quality of my writing is suffering. My lines are indecipherable and I have to keep correcting myself. However, they seem satisfied. Before I leave, I should have extracted a new equation. It's like alternating between removing a splinter or pulling a tooth: I operate between the meticulous and the brutal, each time using my pen and fingers as pliers. Sometimes you just have to know how to get respect, even from a piece of paper. “Zymel Hziz.” This is the last nymic I've managed to isolate - a lightning atronach. Decidedly, Oblivion today is convenient in the way it lexicalizes the entities that reside there… It's even suspiciously tidy. Note: don't lock yourself into a general rule. Being taken by surprise isn't always a pleasant experience.

My results have been transmitted and will soon be re-evaluated. I'm waiting for them to come back, stamping my feet slightly but not too much. They don't like it when I'm impatient; I hear it's too decisive a flaw in many cases. To keep myself busy, I pick up these rotten-meat-smelling characters again. I wonder if they're not a formula. I don't recognize any grammatical arrangement that might remind me of an entity, even squinting. I don't think it's a sentence. I'm sure it doesn't say anything and I'm not sure it matters either. Indeed, it says nothing. I've been thinking about it for several nights now, and I think I've finally figured it out. I'll wait a few more hours to flesh out my observations. It may not say anything, but it talks. And when I say “it talks”, I mean it's loquacious. Reading these incomprehensible phonemes is inaudible. I repeat and repeat in front of my colleagues, and they get nothing but annoyance out of it. But as I struggle to pronounce this unspeakable jumble, I'm gripped by a new certainty. I'm convinced that this language finds a way to be universal and selective at the same time. I'm certain that I can understand it because it wants me to. In the meantime, I have to say that it sounds awful. I must pronounce it with a deplorable accent, rather like I pronounce my Altmeri. I must confess that I haven't particularly tried to articulate my Altmeri correctly. Altmeri is good for vomiting. Altmeri is best disgorged from the heart.

Today's demonstration was impressive. I've learned a lot and I'd like to share with them my questions about the nature of this language. I'd like to call it “Skrmblz”. It adds a bit of cuteness to the sordidness, a bit like me. Skrmblz is a bit devious and has poor hygiene. She won't let anyone talk to her, and doesn't let anyone listen to her. Skrmblz has a nasty temper. We've taken turns trying to spit her out, and it's only when I have her in my mouth that I can taste more than bile. In the end, Skrmblz opens up to me with the force of my tongue, like someone stirring in a big mashed potato. It reminds me of good evenings.

Tonight, it's been a week since I've been down to the brothel. I'm in a cold sweat. Maybe I'll spend the next few nights relaxing a bit. I don't care if he's disappointed in me, all he had to do was appreciating my flowers!

I should bake him a cake…

Look, I'm sorry. I think I really am. I wish you'd appreciate them and put them in a vase next to our bed. I guess she didn't let you keep them in our house. I know you're worried and I shouldn't be doing this. I shouldn't have started it, we shouldn't have talked about it and I should have stayed pure and virtuous like you. Sometimes I envy you. I miss you, only caring about that screaming infant and that woman who shrieks like a sow. You know something? You deserve better. When I get rid of all this, we'll be fine. I think with your clarity, you'll have no trouble seeing how happy we can be. You can even keep the baby, for all I care... I understand why you don't want to trust me with it, since I'm about to ransack every one of my synapses.

I promise, I'll try not to stay there for more than 72 hours. I promise this time I'll go home and get some sleep.

[safetycar-restart]

hi!!! ive sent all the Logan asks but i have more thoughts to add after thinking some more. so logan and oscar have known each other their like entire youth racing career and i had this idea in my head that logan and oscar sub together sometimes. you also said in one of ur posts that logan has been with his dom the longest so on that note what do you think their routine is, bc we’ve established that charles is a subby little thing and Pierre is more of a “let me do my own thing”, so what do you think logan is cuz i kind of see him being like attached but in like a possessive way yk? anyways have a wonderful rest of your day/night. Xx

*deep breath* LOGAN AND OSCAR!!! I’m obsessed. I have so many thoughts.

So yeah even with this, you and Logan have been together for a very long time. Oscar genuinely can't remember a time where you weren't with Logan. Logically he knows he's known Logan since before you two got together, but it doesn't feel like there's ever been a time where you and Logan weren't a couple, where you weren't Logan's dom.

Logan hates going out without you, will spend the whole evening grumbling about how much he misses you and he quite literally threw a drink at a poor dom who dared to ask him to dance one time. So yeah, needless to say you're always with them when they go out because Logan will be straight up insufferable if you aren't.

Oscar never really minded it, because you and Logan have never been overly coupley. Even when Logan is literally sitting on your lap, you still don't make anyone feel left out.

However, I think Oscar sometimes felt bad around you and Logan, not because of anything the two of you did. But more because he had been trying to find something like what you and Logan have for years and he's been unsuccessful?

He's never had a dom for more than a weeks aside from a team dom, and he's never had a team dom that he really connected with. And then he's faced with you and Logan who have been together for so long that you're practically glued together at this point and Oscar wants that so fucking bad.

Oscar never asks to join you and logan in a scene, because he knows the way you two are. He knows it's not unheard of for friends to scene together, especially if one or both of them are lacking a scening partner. In fact many of his friends had offered before.

But he never imagined he would get an offer from you and Logan, because you two are so obviously made for each other that the mere thought of someone else joining you two is ridiculous.

Maybe Logan finds Oscar in subdrop? Oscar cancels on dinner with him and Logan goes to check on him. He finds Oscar curled up on the floor of his apartment, crying his eyes out and wrapped in a blanket, convinced he's the worse sub ever and completely unlovable. Logan helps him, looks after him as best he can.

And right before he leaves, he makes Oscar promise to come to him if he needs to submit and not go to the dom who did this to him. Oscar is confused, because Logan is a sub too. Logan explains that he means him and his dom, that you and Logan will help Oscar.

Oscar is shocked, both at the fact that Logan is offering this and at the fact that Logan seems confident you'll agree to it.

Logan knows you'll agree because he's discussed it with you many times, toying with the idea of offering Oscar a place in scenes with you because he knows Oscar needs stability. If it were anyone else, Logan would never agree to it. The idea of anyone submitting to you makes his skin crawl, except for Oscar. Oscar can do it.

You're convinced Oscar will never agree to it, until one night a few months later when you are out with Logan and some friends, including Oscar. You and Logan are cuddling in the booth, sharing a gin and tonic (as in, drinking from the same glass because you got one and Logan wanted one but didnt want to move) when Logan spots Oscar dancing with a dom. Which is fine, he's a grown man. He can do that.

But then the dom starts kissing Oscar right on the dance floor, kissing him hard, wrapping a hand around his throat. Instantly you and Logan are both on alert, because no dom should do that without discussing it first and Oscar clearly just met this guy.

Oscar comes back to the booth a few minutes later, looking very disheveled and Logan relaxes, thinking that now he's back and safe. Except he only came to grab his phone and keys and tells you both he's going home with a dom he met.

Logan grabs his wrist, standing up from your lap and pulling him closer.

"Come with us," Logan tells him, "don't go with that dom, we both know it's dangerous. We'll help you, please."

To your surprise, Oscar agrees and you end up with two subs that night.

After that, Oscar joining you and Logan happens more and more. He never says much, never explains why he needs this or whether he has a new dom or not.

But there's this unwritten agreement that you and Logan are his most permanent scene partners, even as he bounces from dom to dom outside of that.

[the-mspfa-200-favourites-project]

LUSTALE

It always warms my heart to look at the “recent pages” tab on a fanadventure and see that there have been, in fact, recent upd8s for the fanadventure I’m currently reading. I don’t why. I guess because I like to see people continuing to make what’s passionate to them? Because the person or team making it are like…making it? Doing it? Surviving the creative process? Anyways.

You know, as much as I might seem like I’m a detractor of the “Vast Error” art style, it’s more like it’s become the default House Style of MSPFA and thus isn’t worth mentioning that much in these notes. Like, it’s still a rather nice style that can bring out some gorgeous panels sometimes. Case in point, literally Page 3 has some GORGEOUS water color textures, with all the pinks intermingling with the bleu hues…ough. Okay actually now that I’m getting a little bit more into it I have to say it, every single panel so far has my jaw on the floor over how good this coloring and lighting and framing is. What the heck? You can *DO* this in this art style???????? Crazy. Also I love it when Fanadventures do this little “hey here’s a sneak peak at all the wonders you’re about to see :3” dance, it’s so engaging, because if there’s a section of the story I don’t like, I know I can just ride it out until I get to the parts I want to see. :3

I’m starting to sense the pattern emerging, and maybe it was emerging a little bit before this too, but I think that the more recently you talk about SBURBventures, you might run into the fact that they are all truncating the Act 1 Sequence. Like, SBURB TAS and Chainbound both skip their “introduction” phases, and launch straight into the SBURB portion of the SBURBventure. Which I guess makes sense, because often times it *does* feel like the interesting bits that the creator has planned out for the Fanadventure all occur within SBURB, so skipping right to the good parts and figuring it out from there does have a certain appeal to it.

Some days (okay most days) I feel inadequate to be like, delivering my opinion on Fanadventures because while I think I understand the ways that Homestuck and SBURBventures work and like applying an academical lens to them, sometimes I just run into a part of a comic that I can’t really explain *why* I don’t like it, or describe it in a way that makes sense, and I get kind of frustrated? Like, it’s dialogue again. I’m not enjoying this dialogue. But if I could understand *why* I don’t like this dialogue, then maybe I could communicate that fact and people could like. I don’t know, change the way they write dialogue? Or something? Okay I guess I ought to try.

I think one thing that turns me off is big walls of text. Homestuck eases you into Dialogue. Most of the pages of dialogue have like, one or two things, or they are about only one thing, at least in the early stage. Then, later on, when you’ve already gotten attached to these characters, you get the giant walls of dialogue that Homestuck is now known for, but that’s after you’re already willing to spend time with the characters you’re following. So when I see big walls of text and I’m not sure if I’ll like something and I read it and it doesn’t quite come off as snappy or witty as I would like Dialogue to be, I guess I get. Bored? Is that the word I’m looking for? It might be.

Well, all in all, this fanadventure *seems* like it is, in fact, competently done, and I wish it all the best, but yet another SBURBventure that I don’t jive with has come and gone, it seems.

[stxrfclls]

"  it  depends  on  who  you  are  speaking  to,  i  suppose.  "  daxton  relents.  he  only  did  such  things  for  fun,  to  poke  at  people  and  get  a  rise  out  of  them.  the  spymaster  never  did  such  things  to  tarnish  another's  word  or  use  it  against  them  in  a  hateful  way.  he  may  be  getting  along  with  lailah  just  fine,  but  she  wouldn't  see  the  more  playful  side  of  him  just  yet.  a  slight  shrug  graces  his  shoulders,  he  finds  that  people  learn  far  more  with  their  own  eyes  than  ears,  and  he  wonders  just  what  lailah  might  think  of  him  in  his  rawest  state.  would  she  even  ever  truly  see  it  ?  likely  not.  daxton  may  be  friendly  and  charming,  but  he  was  still  guarded.  he  was  a  spymaster  now,  it  was  required  and  he  was  certain  the  spy  of  winter  would  attest  to  the  same  need.  "  you'll  have  to  keep  spending  time  with  me  then,  my  lady.  "  certainly  that  behavior  would  not  come  out  now  while  they  graced  the  dance  floor,  bodies  moving  as  if  they  had  been  dancing  together  for  centuries.  their  words  parried  back  and  forth,  and  the  music  lead  them  on  quite  the  journey.  daxton  didn't  give  himself  much  credit  to  any  of  it,  dancing  with  a  beautiful  woman  skilled  in  words  and  steps  was  easy,  a  breath  of  air  that  he  simply  carried  away  with.  her  question  lifts  his  brow,  and  dax's  answer  comes  easily.  "  i  haven't  experienced  many  people  simply  trying  to  know  me  for  their  own  desires,  without  a  hidden  agenda  to  speak  of.  "  he  was  raised  alongside  the  summer  nobles,  lived  in  the  palace  grazing  the  shores  of  adriata.  dax  was  raised  to  be  cautious,  careful  of  those  he  trusted.  "  that  is  because  you're  obviously  captivated  with  my  dancing  skills.  "  he  teases,  but  he  knew  why  she  didn't  pull  away.  lailah  was  trying  to  figure  him  out  just  as  he  was  her.  

"  it  is  quite  a  shared  interest  amongst  the  profession.  "  he  says  with  a  small  chuckle,  trying  to  remain  in  a  good  mood.  "  articulation  and  understanding  are  two  different  sides  of  the  coin.  i  could  explain  why  i  love  books  so  much  but  it  might  not  translate  to  another.  reading  tucked  away  into  the  library  was  my  safe  space,  many  happy  hours  spent  curled  up  where  no  one  would  find  me.  it  was  a  type  of  peace  only  a  child  might  obtain.  "  he  doesn't  really  go  into  how  he  didn't  wish  to  be  found,  how  he  would  avoid  his  father  and  only  appear  for  meal  times  if  he  couldn't  get  something  from  the  kitchens  on  his  own.  these  things  were  reserved  for  his  own  mind,  not  anothers.  dax's  brow  raises,  and  he's  hardly  surprised  to  hear  her  love  of  sharp  objects.  "  perhaps  you  ought  to  show  me  what  that  time  taught  you  sometime.  "  he  didn't  really  spar  often,  but  dax  wasn't  helpless  either.  he'd  learned  enough  to  get  by  so  he  might  not  be  in  trouble  should  a  situation  arise.  he  imagined  lailah  was  far  more  skilled,  and  was  genuinely  interested  in  seeing  it.  especially  when  it  contrasted  to  the  done  up  spymaster  in  his  arms  at  present.  daxton's  flirting  had  been  mostly  harmless  this  far,  but  pushing  the  line  was  always  something  he  would  do.  when  lailah  didn't  slap  him  or  pull  back,  but  in  fact  pulled  him  even  closer,  he  couldn't  help  but  feel  a  thrill  of  excitement.  the  spymaster  wasn't  certain  what  he  was  having  more  fun  with,  their  physical  dance  or  the  verbal  one.  the  trail  of  her  fingertips  against  his  skin  leaves  a  tingle,  one  that  interests  him  further.  "  that  entirely  depends  on  what  you  consider  a  gentleman.  "  he  points  out.  he  was  hardly  a  selfish  lover.  a  chuckle  slips  from  his  lips  as  he  pulls  her  in,  timed  with  her  lean.  "  i  was  enjoying  our  dance.  "  it  wasn't  untrue.  "  though  if  you're  eager,  do  feel  free  to  whisk  me  away  to  your  bedchambers,  my  lady.  "  he  doesn't  expect  her  to.  "  perhaps  i  hide  my  upset  well.  "  he  teases  back.  "  should  we  be  freed,  i  shall  write  to  you  to  come  visit.  "

"i  am  well  aware,  but  it  does  not  matter  how  well  i  convey  my  words.  is  it  not  in  the  nature  of  others  to  twist  and  interpret  the  words  of  another  to  their  liking?"  lailah  knew  he  was  teasing,  but  either  way  she  took  no  offense,  and  truly  it  is  the  most  enjoyable  conversation  she  had  tonight.  now,  she  had  not  known  what  to  expect  when  she  approached  him,  it  was  likely  that  he  would  not  offer  her  much,  as  she  was  another  spymaster.  his  easy  smile  and  twinkling  gaze  was  enough  to  lure  most  into  a  false  sense  of  ease,  but  there  was  a  keen  awareness  to  his  gaze  that  lailah  would  not  ignore."so  i've  heard.  i'm  curious  to  see  further  what  the  ungentlemanly  version  of  you  is  like.."  she  hummed.  she'd  done  her  bits  of  investigating  to  learn  he  could  aid  another  in  need  if  he  was  in  the  mood,  but  a  gentlemen  he  was  not  some  days  judging  by  his  affairs.  in  mattered  very  little  to  lailah  of  what  his  affairs  looked  like,  all  she  wished  to  do  was  warm  daxton  towards  her.  however,  it  did  not  surprise  her  that  he  has  such  a...prolific  past,  he  was  a  catch  -  handsome,  edging  on  beautiful,  cutting  cheekbones,  a  piercing  gaze,  and  plump  pale  pink  lips.  flirting  with  him  was  certainly  enjoyable,  as  was  being  this  close  to  him,  while  their  bodies  moved  in  perfect  harmony  to  the  music,  as  did  their  conversation.  while  lailah  was  careful  who  she  dallied  with,  she  would  not  deny  she  enjoyed  his  attentions  even  if  she  had  no  romantic  intentions  towards  him.  she  considered  his  words  before  nodding,  "most  are  guilty  of  that,  and  one  can  never  be  too  careful  of  revealing  such  intimate  details  of  oneself.  tell  me,  how  would  you  view  another  if  they're  simply  trying  to  get  to  you?  without  any  hidden  agendas?"  she  tilted  her  head  slightly,  mirroring  his  own  pose,  while  her  gaze  remained  on  his  with  just  a  hint  of  curiosity.  no  one  could  say  the  winter  spymaster  could  not  play  the  role  of  a  innocent  woman  simply  interesting  in  another  man.  though  in  this  case  her  interest  wasn't  entirely  false,  she  was  still  curious  of  the  scholar  turned  spymaster.  "i  am  quite  flattered,  seeing  as  i  have  not  attempted  remove  myself  from  our  dance,  though  i'm  entirely  safe  to  do  so  now."  she  flashed  him  a  rather  sweet  smile.  in  truth,  lailah  did  not  know  if  his  behavior  was  sincere,  but  she  suspected  it  was  both.  "i  think  you  have  enough  confidence  when  you  try,  but  it  does  not  border  on  arrogance."  when  he  states  he  was  not  upset  by  her  said  ruse,  her  gaze  moves  to  his  features  once  more,  her  dark  hues  appraising  him  subtly.  uncertain  of  his  offer  of  disappearing  into  the  gardens  was  sincere,  but  lailah  decides  to  hold  that  thought  for  now.

had  she  imaged  his  reaction  to  her  words?  "i'm  certain  you  did,  you  would  not  be  a  scholar  without  such  passion  nor  knowledge  for  books  and  texts."  a  pause,  "try  me,  i'm  certain  you  can  articulate  better  than  you  believe."  she  did  not  know  where  the  desire  came  to  know  further  of  his  childhood,  but  she  did  not  push  any  further,  knowing  he  would  not  share  such  details  with  a  stranger.  "most  of  my  childhood  was  spent  in  training  rooms  -  my  swords  kept  me  company."  lailah  offered  that  bit  enough  if  only  to  so  that  it  did  not  appear  as  if  she  prying  too  much  into  her  personal  life.  when  she  shifted  closer  to  him  as  they  continued  their  dance,  her  frame  nearly  pressed  to  his  own,  she  felt  him  tugger  her  closer.  felt  the  warmth  of  his  arm  pressing  against  her  back,  through  the  thin  fabric  of  her  dress.  lailah  tilted  her  head  just  in  time  to  see  his  devious  smirk,  and  while  she  no  stranger  being  a  recipient  of  such  looks,  it  did  make  her  wonder,  was  his  interest  in  her  genuine  or  was  he  toying  with  her.  the  gleam  in  his  gaze  was  one  she  certainly  didn't  trust,  but  yet  again,  she  knew  she  had  started  this  and  reacting  any  different  than  she  was  now  would  only  make  him  suspicious.  so  when  his  lips  grazed  her  ear,  lailah  tugged  him  closer,  ignoring  the  strange  sensation  that  shot  down  her  spine  his  words  caused.  there  was  a  small  smirk  on  her  lips  when  he  pulled  back  and  winked  at  her,  she  raised  a  hand  and  brushed  the  stray  strand  away  from  his  forehead  before  letting  her  fingers  brush  his  temple,  a  gesture  that  might  even  been  a  bit  bold,  even  for  her.  "oh,  i'm  certain  you  can,  you  did  say  you're  not  a  gentlemen."  the  winter  fae  leaned  forward,  "and  so  can  i.  so,  that  begs  the  question,  why  have  not  me  led  me  further  into  the  gardens  after  teasing  me  as  such?"  not  entirely  expecting  him  to  make  a  move  on  his  bold  offer  from  earlier.  she  chuckled  than  at  his  antics,  "something  tells  me  your  not  entirely  torn  up  about  that  fact."  her  interest  in  his  court  was  genuine,  so  she  nods,  "I  would  love  that,  daxton."  lailah  would  not  miss  a  chance  to  show  off  the  beauty  of  her  winter  court.

[interstellarbutter]

Birthday Wishes | S.S

As the night engulfed the castle, you knew you should be sleeping, yet being friends with a certain Slytherin sometimes gets in the way of your sleep schedule. You see, this evening, Sebastian has asked you to meet him in the Undercroft, no explanation or anything.

WARNINGS: hogwarts legacy spoilers, not proofread, first fic on tumblr

GENRE & TAGS: fluff, gn slytherin reader, reader is not the protag of hogwarts legacy

WORDCOUNT: 671 (or something)

You've known him for quite a while now, ever since your first year since you started as a Slytherin. He and Ominis were your greatest friends. Sure, you knew Natsai and Poppy as well as the extraordinary 5th year, and they were definitely your friends, but nothing came close to the bond you had with your fellow Slytherins. Being in your 6th year now, you've been through thick and thin with them, as well as with that 5th year student. You were honestly so relieved they decided not to send Sebastian off to Azkaban. His actions were severe, but to send him to Azkaban was too much. Either way, here you are now, on your way to meet up with the charming Sebastian Sallow. You were ecstatic to spend time with him. You really wanted to spend all you can with him until you had to return home for the summer. As you wandered through the, dare I say, obnoxiously large castle while cloaked in a disillusionment charm, you smiled, wondering about what he had in store for you, why he asked for you to meet him alone.

You finally made it to the clock that somehow serves as a gateway to the Undercroft, using your wand to have it reveal its secrets before you stepped inside, being greeted by a smiling Sebastian, one of your favorite versions of him. You smiled back at him, "Well, care to explain why you asked me to meet you here alone?" You spoke with a teasing tone, smiling throughout it. "Close your eyes." Way to avoid the question, Seb. You chuckled a bit, shaking your head at his silly behaviour before you did as he asked. You heard some odd sounds, like whoosing and clanging, maybe, before it stopped, the silence being replaced by his sweet melodic voice. "You may open them." He spoke in his usual charming and somehow awfully suggestive tone.

Your eyes widened as a smile appeared on your face. The room was decorated to be some sort of fancy party. "Since I can't celebrate your birthday with you during the summer vacation, I figured why not do it early." He had a smug smile on his face as you turned to him with glistening eyes, "Sebastian..." You couldn't really say more as you walked up to him as you looked him in the eyes. "This... this is beautiful..." You had a genuine smile on your face, looking at the Slytherin in awe. "I try." He laughed, causing you to join him. Though you were quickly cut off by the sudden music playing from the gramophone across the room, playing some sweet ballroom music. You turned to him with a grin on your face as you saw him bend over and hold out his hand, looking up at you. "May I have this dance?" You laughed softly, "Of course." You said as you took his hand into yours, joining him to the middle of the room. It wasn't quite the Yule Ball, but it was so much more sentimental. That he did this for you meant so much.

He carefully moved his hand to your waist, as the other held your hand. You grabbed onto his shoulder as you both started to sway to the song, laughing at how much you almost tripped each other. He calmed down his laughter for a moment. "You know, [Y/n], I've liked you for a long time now, but considering the circumstances, I thought I'd wait a bit. Yet I couldn't stand the thought of missing my chance, so I decided not to wait any longer." You looked at him in awe as both of you stopped dancing, just holding each other. "I really, really like you [Y/n]." He looked into your eyes, a face much more serious than what you're used to from him. You smiled, "Well, as it may be, I really, really like you too, Seb." He chuckled and smiled, "I expected that." You rolled your eyes at him but couldn't hold back your smile. "Happy birthday, Y/n."

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request the Obey Me guys as well as the Now Dateables?

Perhaps M/C crawling into bed with them wanting to be held and to be touched.

Perhaps a little nsfw added in 🤤😉

note: this is the only imagine/scenario I will do for all 11 boys. cuz I’m a thirsty bitch. the rest of the time we will stick to the rules of HCs only.

Additionally, the plot has been changed slightly to ‘coming to their room at night’. Sorry. If you want NSFW stuff for a specific boy, based on the provided content, I’ll do it but 11 boys is too much even for my thirsty trappy ass.

Obey Me Boys + MC Crawling into Bed with Them

Lucifer

Lucifer sighed over his paper work. Would his turmoil never cease? 

Sometimes he felt like he had fallen into a lower level of the Devildom. Like the 13th circle of hell where the preferred torture method for lost souls was endless paperwork. A modern day Sisyphus, only instead of a boulder it was forms.

He heard the door to his room quietly click open & then close. He doesn’t look up from his paper work as he knew who it was. There was only one person, ok maybe two, who would come into his room this late at night without knocking. “What is it [Y/N]?”

“I was um...wait, you wear reading glasses?”

Lucifer frowned and looked up from his paper work now. “Magical reading glasses. For reading magical text.” They were required to read some of the magical scripts he was combing over. “What is it [Y/N]?”

The human squirmed a little when he asked again. Seeming to think over the answer, or more precisely how to explain it. “I couldn’t sleep.” They finally confess. “I was wondering if I could stay in here with you, but....you’re busy.”

Lucifer arched a brow slightly, but then moved some of the papers he had completed to make space for them. “Come on. I won’t be much longer.”

[Y/N] smiled at him and scampered over. Crawling in under the silk sheets, and as close as possible to him with him on top of them as they could. “Thank you Lucifer.”

“Of course, my dearest one.” He replied with a soft smile, leaning down to kiss the top of their head before returning to his work. Renewed in his commitment to get this done so he could spend the night with [Y/N].

Mammon

It was late. It was almost 3:00 in the morning by the time he got home, and it had been a shitty night.

Mammon had been at the casino. Gambling, drinking, dancing, the usual. His luck turned sour around 11:00 and, stupid Mammon, had spent the remaining four hours trying to turn it around. That of course didn’t work so now he was even more broke, defeated, and feeling like crap for his failure; regretting Lucifer finding out and making him feel worse. Fuck it had been the worst night.

He rounded the corner to his room and looked up in surprise to see [Y/N] at his door. “What are you doing here?” His voice seemed to surprise them too as they jumped a little before turning to him.

“Oh I was…coming to see if you wanted to hang out?”

“Hang out?” Mammon repeated with an arched brow. “Ya know it’s like 3:00 in the morning, right?”

“O-Oh…is it? I guess I miss read the time.” [Y/N] began to fidget, then muttered some apology about going back to their room.

The demon reached out and caught their hand before they could get far. “Hey, what’s wrong? Nobody comes out here in the middle of the night without a reason.” Or they were out super late like him.

[Y/N] looked down, then decided to tell the truth. “I couldn’t sleep. So I wanted to see you.”

Mammon blinked behind his shades. He hadn’t been expecting that. Now it was his turn to fidget as he realized out of all the people in the world, [Y/N] had chosen to come see him.

“Yeah well…of course ya’d come to the Great Mammon for help. I uh…guess you can stay in here with me tonight.”

He showered to get the smoke & stink of shame off before crawling into bed with [Y/N]. His little human already drifting off just being in his covers. Mammon wrapped his arms around them and held them close. Maybe it wasn’t the worst night after all.

Levi

Of course he was awake when [Y/N] came to his room. The latest install of Kenji Momotaro: Demon Slayer Warrior Prince had just been released that day, and Levi he been playing it since he had gotten his hands on it. He wouldn’t be sleeping for a while.

When he heard the knock on his door, initially missing it over the sound of his game and tunnel vision, Levi paused for the first time in hours to go see who it was. “[Y/N]-chan?”

“Can…I stay in here with you?” They asked. Catching Levi by surprise. “I can’t sleep in my room.”

The blunette blushed violently, and covered his face. “Y-Y-You….You want to sleep in here with me??”

“Is…that ok?” They asked cautiously. Seeming let down by his reaction.

“No. I mean! Yes! W-What I mean is, I’m not going to bed right now. I’m grinding through my new game so….you might not be happy in here.” Plus, his bed was a bathtub. Which was only comfortable to him.

“Oh. Well…I don’t want to mess up your game. If that’s more important to you.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Levi outburst. Then quickly covered his mouth in embarrassment. “I…I just don’t think you’ll get a lot of sleep in here. I only like my room after all.”

“I like your room.” If Levi turned any redder, he was going to get a nose bleed. “It’s dark, which is nice. Plus the aquariums are really soothing. And…you’re there. I just wanted to be around you since I couldn’t sleep, but I guess that’s silly.”

The demon had to cover his mouth again. This time over threat of nose bleed. He was so red from embarrassment, but also incredibly moved by [Y/N]’s words, that he quickly responded, “you can stay with me.”

He moved aside and let [Y/N] in. Leading them over to his game area where he laid out some plushies as a bed, and pulled out a blanket to cover them. “I-I-I…I’m gonna keep playing since I’m not tired. But I’ll put my headphones on so I don’t disturb you. Y-Y-You can lay down here and i-i-if you fall asleep I won’t mind.”

“Thanks Levi.” He had to gulp at the cute sleepy way they said his name, before they tucked in and he went back to his game.

He couldn’t concentrate for the rest of the game, with [Y/N] so close. Choosing to use his leg as a pillow. Eventually he gave up and leaned back against the edge of his tub, not daring to disturb them and actually getting a good night sleep as well.

Asmo

There were few things that Asmo considered sacred. Love. Vitality. The Louis Vuitton spring collection.

But the one thing he considered sacred most of all, was his beauty sleep regiment.

The Avatar of Lust had a strict sleep schedule to give his body the best rejuvenation possible, and amplify his beauty. Everyone knew about it, and choose to leave Asmo alone; per his wishes.

Which was why it was so frustrating when his rest was disturbed by a knock at the door.

Asmo grumbled under his sleep mask at the light rapping that wouldn’t go away. Irritated by the noise, and now the worry lines whoever it was was putting into his forehead. He pushed his mask up to his hair line and got up out of bed towards the door. “What?!” He said in a not cute, very moody outburst when he opened it. Seeing [Y/N] standing there, startled by his ugly display. “Oh, [Y/N]-kun. It’s you.”

“Y-Yeah. Yeah it’s me. Sorry to wake you, I’ll just…go.”

“Wait [Y/N]! I’m sorry. If I had known it was you paying me a late night visit, I would have been much nicer and answered the door sooner.”

“Well I….couldn’t sleep so…-“Ahhhh~! You couldn’t sleep so you decided to come to me?? How naughty!”

[Y/N] frowned and turned to leave, but Asmo apologized quickly for being cheeky. “Did you want to stay with me tonight? That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” He could tell he was right, but the human was second guessing themselves on coming here. “I promise I’ll behave. Really.”

[Y/N] seemed to trust them, and came into the room & into bed with Asmo. He was practically giddy with them being so close, but was true to his word and supplied no funny stuff for the evening. Just rest and cuddles.

In the morning, he couldn’t wait to tell his brothers how he slept with [Y/N] last night. Causing quite the intentional misunderstanding and ruckus over breakfast that day.

Satan

Satan was getting ready for bed. Pjs on, teeth brushed, uniform set out for tomorrow, and on his bed reading one last chapter of his latest book, when he heard the knock at the door.

At first he thought it was a branch hitting the glass of his window. But when he heard it again, he knew it was at his door, and had a very The Raven moment before he went to answer it.

“[Y/N]? What are you doing here? It’s so late.”

“I know, I know,” the replied, scratching the back of their head. “I just…I couldn’t sleep. I tried but I just couldn’t get to sleep, and wanted to see you.” They look up at him with big doe eyes and ask, “can I stay with you tonight?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no. Not with a look like that. Or more importantly, he’d never say no to [Y/N]. Satan offered them a soft smile and nodded before letting them in.

“What were you reading?” They asked, as the climbed into bed first. Watching Satan put his book away for them.

“Oh, just a new fiction series I found. Simeon recommended it to me.” He said as he climbed into bed as well.

“What’s it about?”

He told them the premise of the story, and eventually read aloud the first few chapters to them as they curled up beside him. Falling asleep soon after.

Satan smiled again, and put the book back away, before leaning down to kiss their forehead and curl in beside them. Ready for bed now.

Beel

It was pretty late when he heard the knock on the door. And a miracle he heard it at all.

Belphie was the sleeper out of the two of them, but Beel wasn’t exactly a light sleeper either. Between his workouts, large meals, and having to get up early for his morning workouts, the red head was usually dead to the world when his head hit the pillow. But, still, when he heard the quite knock on the door he woke up. 

If he were a thinker like Satan or the others, he would have thought that it was maybe their bond that woke him. Instead he just trudged half asleep towards the door to open it. “[Y/N]?”

“S-Sorry....” They apologize and look towards the ground as Beel looked at them curiously. “I knew you were asleep, but I still woke you up. I’m sorry.”

“Is something wrong?” Beel asked. A bit more awake now that he knew it was them and they seemed distressed. [Y/N] shrugged. “Did you have a bad dream?” 

They pause for a while, but then shrug again. He might not be a thinker like the others, but he was smart enough to know what that meant. He reached out to take their hand and pulled them into his room. Leading them over to his bed and pulling them onto it.

“Don’t worry. You can stay here.” Beel said, holding [Y/N] to his chest in a horizonal hug. “I’ll keep you safe. You don’t have to worry while I’m here. Go back to sleep.”

His words seem to do the trick, and [Y/N] feel back asleep. Beel stayed awake a little while longer. Combing his fingers through their hair, before he too fell back asleep.

Belphie

He heard the conversation from the door, but didn’t bother getting up.

The only thing that could break through when he was asleep was Beel and [Y/N]’s voice. So hearing them both woke him up pretty quickly, although it seemed to be handled. 

He tried to go back to sleep after hearing you settle in, but it didn’t work. The usually lazy demon kept fidgeting in his sleep, trying to get comfortable, and even counting sheep to try and go back to dream land. Nothing worked. And he knew why.

Belphie got up out of bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and walked over to the over bed across the room and kicked it. When Beel and [Y/N] looked up at him half asleep he demanded, “move over.” He couldn’t sleep know that [Y/N] was cuddling up with someone else and not him. Especially in the same room.

[Y/N] huffed in their sleep and laid back down, scooching closer to Beel to try and make space. Beel, on the other hand, smile sleepily up as his twin and properly moved over; back pressed against the wall with [Y/N] at his chest to give him as much space as possible.

Belphie smiled back at him, then dropped his pillow to climb in. Instantly falling asleep. Holding on to his twin and beloved [Y/N] for the rest of the night.

Simeon

Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise. Those were the words that Simeon tried to live by

He was just about to slip under the covers happily, when he heard a small knock at the door. It was so faint & small, that he assumed it was Luke needing something. So he quickly went over to answer it without putting his robe on.

“Oh…[Y/N]….” The angel said, feeling his cheeks heat up and clinching for his imaginary robe to cover his pjs, when he realized it was you. “What are you doing here?”

He didn’t mean in the Hall. You were stay in the other dorm for a while as an infestation of some icky, demon creepy crawly, that just loved to nibble on humans was dealt with in the House of Lamentation. Luke of course had been thrilled you were staying with them, insisting that the change be made permanent to keep you away from those rowdy demons. Simeon couldn’t really agree on the demon part, but he wouldn’t be disappointed if you stayed here more.

“I…couldn’t sleep,” you tell him. “New surroundings and all. I was…wondering if I could stay in your room?”

The angel seemed to bristle in surprise at your words. Taken aback, but also in the warm feeling that was spreading through his chest. God have mercy…..

“I don’t know if that would be appropriate.”

“Please?” [Y/N] beckoned. He had to gulp down the lump, and instantaneous urge to say yes, building in his throat. “I just don’t want to sleep alone. I keep thinking about those things in my room back at the dorm. And being around you is so comforting. Just for tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch and everything if that’s a problem.”

“I wouldn’t let you do that.” Simeon insisted. He would never let them sleep on the couch like some vagabond. “Well….alright. But just for tonight. And just because you’re feeling unsettled.” He doesn’t know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

He didn’t get much sleep that night. Tense, and trying to remain appropriate even is they slept next to him. But, in a way, it was the best night he had ever had.

Solomon

He always stayed up late. The late to early morning hours were the best time for magic. The witching hour. He was knee deep into his research & spell casting when he heard the knock at the door.

“I..saw the light on…” [Y/N] said when he opened the door. “Are you…going to bed soon?”

Solomon blinked for a moment, then looked down at his pocket watch. Oh, it was rather late. But….“No. I still have quite a bit of work to do.”

The other human sighed, then turned to leave from his door just as suddenly as they came. “Wait. What is it?” He asked, stopping them.

They turn, and seem to debate about answering before, “I couldn’t sleep and was thinking it might be nice to cuddle with you.” Solomon blinked again. In surprise this time. “Stupid, right?”

No, not stupid, he thought. It was just no on had ever asked to cuddle with him before. His body and cool demeanor might be misleading, but he was a very fierce sorcerer. Powerful, and awe inspiring. He had made cities tremble in his young days, and was powerful enough to independently bind one of the strongest demons in hell. Cuddles were not something that one usually thought of when it came to him.

He opened the door to let them in and said, “if you can’t sleep, I can make you a potion.” When that didn’t seem to go over well he corrected with, “or…I could lay down with you for a moment.”

The ‘moment’ turned into the whole evening, because the second his head hit the pillow, he instantly fell asleep. Lulled to dream land by his many late nights, and the warm embrace of [Y/N]. Perhaps there were better things than just getting research done.

Diavolo

He groaned in his sleep. Then rolled over on his side, immediately pulling [Y/N] in when he was in close proximity of them. It was a reflex at this point.

At first, he had tried to keep his distance from the human exchange student. No good would come from it, and it was inappropriate that the future King & patron of the program would be involved with one of the terrestrial candidates. But he couldn’t help it.

Their brightness. Their smile. Their hope for the program and just life won him over and now he couldn’t stand to be further apart from them than a second.

“It’s morning....”

Divaolo groaned and buried his head into the back of their neck. “Five more minutes...”

“We can’t. It’s morning.” [Y/N] insisted. Jutting their hips back against his front; which had the opposite effect of trying to get him out of bed. “If you don’t go, Barbatos will start looking for you. And if he teleports into my room it will be a whole thing.”

That certainly was a metaphoric splash of cold water.

The prince groaned again, and buried himself deeper for a second, before he compliantly agreed and got up. The little full bed in the student dorms joyful of his departure, as it squeaked happily as he tried to leave it.

“Can I come again tonight?” Diavolo asked, as he adjusted his ornate bed clothes. He never slept in them. Like most things in his life, they were all for show.

[Y/N] smiled at him from under their covers and said, “of course.”

His heart swelled at their smile and the promise of later. Surging forward he gave them an impassioned good morning kiss, and told them, “wait up for me.” Before he disappeared in a whirl of black smoke to his own bedroom.

It felt terribly cold now. But he only had to wait until tonight. That he could live for.

Barbatos

The work of a butler is never really done.

There were always things to do. More chores to complete. More tasks to do. Particularly in the life of the royal butler. But Barbatos never complained about his job. He was literally born for it, and took great pride in his work. No matter how small the task.

When he heard the small bell, harking a summons from on of the guest rooms, Barbatos stopped polishing the silver and immediately went upstairs to see what was needed. “You called, [Y/N]?” He asked upon arrival. Calm as ever, and ready to help. “How may I be of assistance?”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called you up here.” They apologized. “I just….couldn’t sleep.”

Barbatos chuckled a little with a soft smile. “No need to apologize, [Y/N]. You’re a guest here, and a friend of the young master.” As well as a dear person to him. “I’m happy to help with anything you need. Might I make you some soothing nightshade tea? That seems to do the trick for most people.”

“N-No. No I…I was wondering….if you’d just sit with me for a while.” The human looked down at the ornate bed spread. Picking at the embroidery in a nervous manner. “Til I fall back asleep?”

The demon smiled again, and came over to sit on the edge of the bed. Holding them in the most comfortable manner possible with him on top of the covers, and them under them. “That is a simple thing.” He told them softly. “Close your eyes. I shall stay with you until you are asleep, and make sure you are taken care of.”

“Thank you.” [Y/N] said lazily. Already closing their eyes and falling back asleep with him close.

The work of a butler was never really done. But this was a task he was happy to do.

[lazulirus]

Can i request prompt 15 with Raiden please :-)

Thank you thank you thank you for requesting Ei my beloved!!! • Raiden Shogun/Ei and (15) squishing the other’s cheek

Your Archon seems to be in high spirits recently, and it puts you in a good mood too. She spends more time outside her chambers, and her softer demeanour stays; you can't even remember her cold stares and dismissing words. 

Now, as her personal attendant, your time was spent more on finding unique sweets that will suit her tastes and telling her how normal Inazumen live nowadays - from day-to-day life to human hobbies. 

"Did you enjoy the novel I recommended to you, my lady?" 

"It was enjoyable but…" She takes a sip of the tea; Sakura petals decorating the liquid and her dark hair. "I do not understand some parts." 

The petals on her head suit her, yet stand out; like stars on a night sky, her hair so dark and beautiful, breath-taking. You always felt lucky that you were the one to brush them every day, pull soft locks and put them into a delicate braid. To fix her fringe, make sure it hugs her face delicately and doesn't hide her chubby cheeks or alluring beauty mark, that not even a single hair gets in the way of her mysterious eyes. 

Oh, her eyes. They were captive when they shines with interest and genuine confusion, their innocence was a bewitching mix to its mesmerising colour, shiny pupil. 

"So? Can you explain it to me?" You hide shame in your own tea and eat away panic by stuffing your face with mochi. Your Archon tilts her head slightly, hair grazing her skin pale as best quality paper. How you wished you were able to put her image onto a paper; her beauty deserved to be kept eternal in any way possible. 

"I… I think, it would be easier to explain if I had the text, my lady." She nods wordlessly and hands you the book. Her slim fingers open it, perfect nails you paint every so often point at the passage, and you wonder: how her hands look so soft despite the hours of everyday training? 

You blush at those immoral thoughts - to think like that of your own Archon! - and quickly read the sentences. 

"I do not understand how such actions can be comforting." Your Archon continues. "The heroine just learnt that she is to be married off, and her lover… Isn't that not enough to cheer her up?" 

"Oh, well…" You collect your thoughts. "I don't think that action was meant to cheer her up or fix the problem. It's more like her lover wanted to show that she wasn't alone. Sometimes skin-to-skin contact is comforting, even more than words." You blush slightly, your eyes darting bashfully to her hand, resting on the floor, so close to your tights. 

"I think I understand… Although I want a demonstration." 

"Excuse me?" You almost choke on your own saliva, but you get no answer, nor your Archon doesn't repeat herself. She straightens her back, hands resting on her legs, and her face says nothing, eyes telling no hints; the inside garden loses all colours for you as you focus on the woman before you. 

Your hands shake slightly, but you hope she doesn't notice or doesn't care as the beautiful eyes don't stray from your face.

Her face was warm. Cheeks were soft, and a handful as you imagined during thousands of times you put makeup on them. Her eyes looked at your hand, then the other; you could see she was thinking. You don't hear the birds, only the pounding of your heart. Your teeth ache from the pressure as you try not to squeak as your Archon leans into your hand, softly nuzzling into your palm; you dared to think you could notice a faint smile dancing on her lips. 

"I see… This is indeed quite comforting." 

Her hand was as soft as it seemed as she copied the heroine's actions, putting her hand on yours. Your Archon seems to be in high spirits recently, and it blessed you with the greatest blessings.

[angeldrawsstuffs]

Akira

Another thing for @kittydemon9000’s Puppet AU! This time focusing on his a-freaking-amazing OC: Puppeteer! He’s very squishible and angstable.

Also I apologize for this one being a tad shorter than my other snippets, but here we go!

Another lifetime, another 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 gone. So is Puppeteer’s curse: to live forever as a monster

Sometimes he wondered why it was him who had to be the one. Why that cursed magic had to hit *them* specifically.

He may not remember much from his youth, but that day, that accursed day is forever burned into his memory. The words of the spell, the flash of light, the screaming townsfolk, all of it. But, the thing he will forever remember the most was Akira.

Kind, loving, sweet Akira. He was the first of their dancers he encountered after the spell.

And Akira didn’t scream. Akira didn’t run in fear.

He held Puppeteer.

He let him cry.

He held his hand while they explained what happened to the others.

Akira was the older brother Puppeteer so desperately wanted from his blood family.

Akira was 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽.

His dancers- his family, were all oh so 𝓹𝓮𝓻𝓯𝓮𝓬𝓽.

They were all set to spend the rest of their lives together, them dancing in the spotlight while Puppeteer stayed in the shadows, guiding them from afar with the technical aspects of the shows. They were supposed to dance together until they grew old and spend their final days by each other’s sides

But the curse-

The First Master forsaken curse-

It made him forever twenty-three.

Forever a 𝓶𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻.

Forever 𝓪𝓵𝓸𝓷𝓮.

So, he learned to take in 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓼, lost souls who wouldn’t be at all 𝓶𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓭 in their former lives.

But they all left him too. One by one they would wither away until Puppeteer had to send them off once more to live the rest of their lives in peace.

He never did hear from most of them.

He likes to think they’re still out there, living peaceful, happy lives. Dancing and dancing and dancing away.

Yes, it’s a lovely thought.

A thought that came to mind once more as Puppeteer finished cleaning up the last doll room of their carriage. After all, he was in town to find another lost soul to be his newest 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵.

Perhaps this one would be more obedient than the last. More willing to listen.

As Puppeteer exited the room, he heard the strangest noise:

Someone is entering the carriage.

Hmph. How 𝓷𝓪𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽𝔂, it’s not even showtime.

Nevertheless, Puppeteer must certainly 𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓬𝓱 this intruder that no act goes without 𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓮𝓺𝓾𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮.

Quickly and quietly, Puppeteer strides down the corridor, lovingly crafted purple cape fluttering behind them as they approach the entrance to the backstage.

“I know you’re in here!” Shouts a youthful voice, one that can’t be older than seventeen at the most, “Just come out and maybe I’ll try to put in a good word with Skales for you! If he’ll listen to me…”

Curious. The intruder doesn’t seem to be looking for Puppeteer, seeing he they do not know who this “Skales” is or why they hold significance.

But an intruder is an intruder all the same.

However, given their presumed age…

They might just make a nice new 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵.

Slowly Puppeteer opens the door and enters the backstage area just next to the cyc, using the sightlines of the curtains to get a better look at the intruder, who appears to be-

Who-

Who appears…

To…

Be…

“𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪?”

The intruder pauses.

“Who just said that? Who’s there?! Show yourself!” 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 They declare, drawing twin, golden katanas from their back.

It can’t be-

But they look so much alike. The brown hair, the tan skin, the lovely, vibrant red they wear-

But 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 is dead! 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 was one of the first! 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 is gone! 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 is-

As if guided by their own strings, Puppeteer finds himself onstage, face to the with 𝓐𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪 the intruder.

And suddenly, their world goes black.

Puppeteer can’t quite remember what he did or what he said next.

But the next memory they have is attaching their lovely new 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 to the cross brace he was prepared for after shows on stage left.

They’re kicking, they’re fighting, they’re shouting…

But they look just like 𝓱𝓲𝓶.

Yes… this 𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓵 will do 𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓮𝓵𝔂.

[buckys-black-dress]

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

-

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

-

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

-

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

-

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

-

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

-

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

-

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

-

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

[huihuiheart]

Royal Flush 1 - Seungcheol

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Seventeen Masterlist

Royal Flush Masterlist

Pairing:  Seventeen x F! Reader - Chapter Seungcheol Focused

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut(in nsfw version)

Summary: Your father’s deteriorating health has been a concern for sometime, but with the latest turn it forces action upon you. It’s up to you to prepare yourself and your kingdom for your father’s inevitable death. His wish for you to wed someone worthy of leading the kingdom along with you before he goes. He’s not leaving you entirely on your own in that regard though, he suggest you both request the presence of the princes of  Taerean, sister kingdom of your own. Any of whom are not betrothed to come and see if there’s a suitor fit for you and your kingdom of Ecairia. Only perhaps too many of them are fit for that position.

Warnings: None?

Word Count: 1067

*Questions that meant to be answered by reader will be in bold, be sure to cast your votes on them to determine what happens next!!!

“So Y/N, who do you choose first?”

“Prince Seungcheol” You make a choice, smiling shyly at the eldest prince as you make your choice. 

Seongcheol bows again, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of your palm, “Thank you, princess, I’m honored. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better and having a wonderful day with you tomorrow.” 

He manages to fluster you without trying too much, releasing your hand and stepping back to let you stand beside your father. Taking his arm in yours as he stands, to go towards the feast prepared to welcome your guests. This time Seungcheol comes over to his side, ready to offer help to your ailing father if it becomes necessary while allowing him his dignity as well. 

Spending the evening making pleasant conversation over the meal and enjoying quite a bit of laughter with everyone as well before it was time to say goodnight. Seungcheol sticking around last, once the other princes have all said a pleasant goodbye to you and your father. 

“Go princess, rest easy for the night. I’ll make sure your father makes it to his room alright. You’ve done it alone long enough, let someone help.” Seungcheol speaks quietly to you, assuring you he can handle it, “And I’ll see you in the morning. Say, 9 am? In the courtyard?” 

“That sounds perfect. I’ll see you then prince. Goodnight.” You bow before taking him up on his offer and returning to your room while he assists your father. Allowing you to relax a little earlier and catch up on some much-needed rest. 

Come morning you ate at your pace before getting ready for your day with Seungcheol, leaving your room to head towards the courtyard to meet him. Only you stumbled across him sooner. Passing by a typically empty training court on your way to the center of the castle. Finding Seungcheol there sparring with, if you remembered correctly, Soonyoung. You found yourself absorbed in the match, assuming it would be alright to stick around seeing as how it wouldn’t keep Seungcheol waiting. Though it seems as though he noticed you before long, bowing with a soft chuckle.

“Oh! Princess! My apologies. Time must have gotten away from me.” He tells you, but you’re quick to brush the apology off.

“No, no. No need to apologize at all. I wasn’t waiting any. I simply noticed you in passing. I hope you don’t mind that I was watching.” Your flustered response makes Seungcheol let out a hearty chuckle, being the one to dismiss your concern now.

“No, not at all. Are you familiar with the art of swordsmanship princess?” He inquires offering you his arm to allow you both to begin to stroll together as you speak.

“With the basics, yes. Enough to hopefully defend myself, heaven forbid the need ever arose. Not with anything more in-depth, however. Though I must admit it has always been intriguing. Watching the almost dance of sorts.” You explain before deciding to add something of a different topic as well, “Also feel free to call me by my name without a title prince, after all, we are trying to get to know one another better with the potential of becoming engaged. A name would be a good start, would it not?”

“That it would Y/N...though I must admit I somewhat like calling your princess.” Seungcheol is quick to move on as if he hadn’t just admitted such a thing, “Feel free to use my name as well. I would like you to feel like you can speak comfortably, even if we go no further than friendship...I was also hoping you might give me a personal tour and share some of the places you most enjoy with me?”

“It would be my pleasure Seungcheol.” 

It was no surprise, to you at least, that you ended the tour in the library. Touring Seungcheol through there as well, helping him find some books pertaining to the basics of Ecairia so he could learn more about your home. Sitting at a table with you to have you almost playfully tutor him in a way. Until the golden light of the sunsetting shines through the large window over you both and you notice that you are not alone. Joshua and Wonwoo walking over with a few books each and bowing.

“Not to interrupt during your day. However, we noticed you and thought we should come to say hi at least.” Wonwoo speaks softly as he shyly makes eye contact with you.

“We were also wondering if perhaps you would tell us who would have the pleasure of spending time with you tomorrow. If it is one of us, perhaps we could start thinking of something to do with you to enjoy the day is all.” Joshua adds as they patiently wait for your response.

“Oh, tomorrow? I was thinking perhaps I would spend the day with [Joshua][Wonwoo][Someone Else].” 

Hearing your answer, the two nod and bow before leaving you and Seungcheol alone in the library once again. However this time Seungcheol shows little interest in the book.

“Perhaps sometime you could take me out to show me some of these foods from the countryside that you speak so fondly of?” Seungcheol suggests realizing your time alone with him might be coming to an end for the day soon, causing you to giggle a little as you nod, though you can’t help but tease just the tiniest bit.

“Only if you agree to show me some more swordsmanship.” Your little quip earns you a faint blush from the man only for a moment before he regains composure.

 Seungcheol is quick to offer you his arm again to lead the way to join everyone for dinner again this evening. Helping you with your chair, before taking a place beside you as well. Never speaking over you, but speaking up for you if you needed a drink or anything when he noticed you keeping quiet about it. Softly insisting on walking to your room afterward, saying he wanted a few more minutes of time to speak with you before the day was over. 

Once at your door though Seungcheol hesitates for a moment before deciding to finally speak what was on his mind, “I kind of don’t want the say to be over yet. Is it alright if I come in for a bit?”

“[Yes][No]”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

ruined, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon's, your roommate's, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; classic Namjoon ripping clothes; you don't have to know how to play LoL, I explain most of it; smut (fem reader, dirty talk, begging, scratching / marking, nipple play, edging / orgasm denial, handjob, (unintentional?) voyeurism, little bit of cum-eating, choking, cowgirl, cock warming); non-idol!BTS – purple-haired, kind-of-a-brat, sub!Jungkook x gamer, noona, dom!reader, ft OT6 being chaotic in the background XD

@yn-the-reader linked me in this and I was already writing about him. a prophet, maybe? XD

--

“WHY ARE YOU SHIRTLESS?”

You died.

Not literally, but also literally.

“Fuck!”

Now you had thirty-seven seconds of gray screen to figure out why the fuck Jeon Jungkook had busted into your bedroom on this cheerful night with his black dress shirt three-quarters of the way unbuttoned, revealing most of his – oh, sweet Satan, very muscular – pecs and the upper half of his abs. He was holding something in his hands, looking helpless and sad, while you were panic buying Liandry's Anguish and experiencing a special form of anguish yourself.

“Noona, um–”

That’s right, because you were in the middle of a League of Legends game, playing Cassiopeia, the Serpent’s Embrace, also known as half-snake lady or the lamia of the champion roster or a mean version of Monster Musume’s Miia (if you know, you know, and if you don’t, be glad you don’t). Your roommate was having friends over after going drinking. All this was fine and dandy with you, because you were going to spend all night wearing headphones and playing League of Legends, therefore ignoring the outside world, until the outside world came to bother you in the form of Kim Namjoon’s – your roommate’s – mostly shirtless friend Jeon Jungkook.

He wasn’t mostly shirtless most of the time, only right now.

“Noona, Namjoon-hyung ripped my shirt…” Jungkook whimpered hesitantly, chewing on his lip. He looked awkward and distraught despite his long dark purple hair giving him a rather fierce, bad-boy look.

Namjoon was a great roommate. He was smart, conversational, and insightful. A chat with him usually led to an enriching, open-minded perspective. He was relatively clean, considerate, communicative, nonjudgmental, fun to be around, and only set the kitchen on fire twice.

The second time was your fault.

You shouldn’t have let Namjoon in the kitchen the second time.

Also, Namjoon with his friends was a wildly chaotic time. All of his friends, especially drunk, were fucking nuts. Normally, they were probably relatively calm people (maybe not Kim Seokjin or Jung Hoseok, they were very excitable), but together they were a mess. You often wondered how they could function as a group.

Currently, however, you were trying to collect your brain cells as you had mere seconds before respawning onto the platform and were forced to play again. Timing in League of Legends was very important. Seconds can mess up wave management of minions and wave mismanagement can lead to game losses if you weren’t careful. The nuances of the game were often ignored by casual players.

You were, in short, a nerd about it.

“Fucking s-shit, what h-happened?” you sputtered out, turning back to your screen, unable to look at mostly shirtless Jungkook because he was MOSTLY SHIRTLESS. Honestly, he had quite nice pecs, and you should not be thinking about that, but it was incredibly distracting, just like how it used to be distracting when Namjoon was shirtless, but several years of living with him made you accustomed to his impressive pectoral muscles, to the point where you could joke about them with him.

But this was not Namjoon – this was his younger friend Jungkook and you had no idea Jungkook was ripped, mostly because you didn’t pay attention to Namjoon’s friends.

There were too many of them and you were too introverted for that.

“I don’t know, he just grabbed my shirt and it ripped and I managed to find all the buttons, but, but…”

Cassiopeia respawned on the platform and you couldn’t ignore the snake lady any longer. You had to play the game because four random people on your team were counting on you and you couldn’t exactly type, sorry, there’s a hot man in my room with his shirt practically off and I don’t know what to do with my life, so you had to suck it up and play the damn game.

Right-clicking and keeping your eyes only on your computer monitor.

Half-listening to that trembling, silvery voice coming up behind you, making your hairs stand on end even though all he was doing was dumping the tiny buttons on your desk.

Oh, fuck me, you thought to yourself.

“Can you repair it? Please? My mom bought me this shirt and Namjoon-hyung said you can sew, so maybe you can sew them back on? Please?”

“Yes, Jungkook, I can, just not right now, I’m in the middle of a game,” you rambled, suddenly trading damage with the enemy Viktor, trying to avoid the laser from the Machine Herald, swearing under your breath as you stutter-stepped and stunned him, poisoning him quickly enough with your abilities to avoid dying. “I will help you, I just – fucking shit, get the fuck away from me Udyr, fuck!”

“Wow, you curse a lot, noona. It’s kind of funny.”

“I – fuck– I mean, sometimes, and what are you guys doing out there? It sounds like a deranged cabaret club,” you remarked, ticking your head towards the direction of your bedroom door.

“Karaoke!” Jungkook replied brightly, still standing behind you, why was he standing behind you, it was freaking you out a little, but Ocean Dragon was being taken and a team fight was about to happen, so you had to ignore it and support your teammates in chasing down the enemy support.

Seokjin hit a high note that was so shrill that you heard it through your headphones.

“… Wow, he’s got some lungs on him.”

“Do you wanna join us, noona?”

“I can’t sing.”

“Neither can we.”

“Pretty sure all of you can sing better than I can, even Yoongi and Namjoon. I’m fucking terrible.”

“I’m not that good.”

You barely survived with thirty hit points after that debacle of a team fight, but your team had the dragon and you all were slowly on your way to victory. You pressed the ‘B’ key to return to base, but kept your eyes on the screen, lest Udyr, the Spirit Walker and serial bear stun-slapping enemy jungler, ran your ass down and killed you.

“Jungkook, your voice is absolutely heavenly. Fucking beautiful. I’m sure every human being on Earth would want to be serenaded by you.”

Silence that you didn’t notice was awkward for him because you were too busy letting out a sigh of relief and building your next item, typing quickly to your teammates. You all were about to set up for vision around Baron Nashor, a large purple worm-dragon monster that when killed provided a significant, sometimes game-ending buff.

“R… really?”

“Yeah, and you’re handsome, gorgeous, and hot as hell too, so the whole damn package,” you responded absentmindedly, realizing the enemy were trying to split-push and trade objectives so you sent some pings to your teammate to take care of that as you accompanied the main group to help clear waves of minions.

Heat.

You heard him shift beside you and suddenly his face was next to yours, watching your screen closely.

Side-step, cast your ultimate, cast your Miasma ability to ground the enemies and prevent them from dashing away, switching between auto-attacking and piercing them with Twin Fang, all in the span of a mild freak-out because why was Jungkook so FUCKING close?

“Wow, you’re so good at League.”

“I’m Diamond rank, so not that good, but definitely better than all seven of you combined.”

“Haha, true, we’re all pretty bad,” Jungkook laughed next to your ear and, oh, shit, is warm breath feathered on your neck, why weren’t you wearing a turtleneck or something and not your self-cropped oversized band t-shirt and slinky black leggings, why weren’t you cocooned in layers of clothes, because you were quickly highly aware of how attractive Namjoon’s friends were.

To top it all off, you were in the middle of a game, so you just had to tolerate it and stay calm for the sake of your teammates and your elo.

“Maybe you could teach us and we’ll teach you something in return.”

“You guys don’t even listen to each other, why would I assume you all would listen to me?”

“I’d listen to you, noona.”

Now your team was doing the Baron dance, skirting in and out of vision, daring the other team to make a move, daring each other to make a mistake so the other could capitalize on it, slowly, slowly, watch the waves, watch the minimap. Careful. You could control the situation if you were calm and not too trigger-happy. Tension in your fingers and tension in your neck because your roommate’s friend was right next to your head, observing your every move.

His violet hair brushed your shoulder.

Soft, delicate strands against your skin.

“You’re more experienced, so you would know what to do.”

Your support snap-engaged a fight and you were immediately in the zone, right clicking rapidly, cycling through your abilities, keeping track of the opponents’ spells, determined not to let any of them get away, following your teammate’s calls and not hesitating, because hesitation as death and loss, and you were so close to winning you could taste it, going after it with passionate vigor and a slow-forming grin, seeing and hearing the in-game announcer declaring, QUADRA KILL.

You didn’t kill all five of them because someone took the pentakill from you.

You might have cared about that except your ear exploded into clapping as Jungkook excitedly applauded for you, cheering you on, reminding you that a mostly shirtless man was standing right next to you.

Thanks, Namjoon, you thought sarcastically.

“Wow, you played that so well, dodging the Viktor ult and stunning three people like that–”

You felt your cheeks heat at the compliments, busying yourself with your team killing Baron. You didn’t usually have someone commenting on your games. Your eyes flickered to the small buttons on your desk.

Especially not a mostly shirtless guy.

Mostly shirtless hot guy.

Back to screen, seeing your jungler’s typed instructions, suggesting you all to destroy as many structures as you could and then prepare for the next fight for Ocean Dragon Soul and – oh? Your eyebrows raised as the screen abruptly jerked to the enemy base, the nexus inside exploding into shiny gem-like fragments that became the VICTORY banner.

“They surrendered?” you uttered with surprise, clicking on the CONTINUE button. “Why?”

Your eyes flickered to the kill score.

“Oh, thirty-two to nine… maybe that’s why….”

Your team had the nine deaths and the opponent team had thirty-two so, well, maybe that’s why they surrendered the game.

“Aw, that’s no fun,” Jungkook pouted as you clicked on the damage screen. Second most damage. Okay, you could take that. You were a little distracted.

“So, about your problem–”

You spun around to, ack, realize that, yes, Jungkook’s shirt was still flapped wide open to expose his chest like an unwrapped piece of caramel candy. He seemed to realize it too, making a surprised face and yanking the sides closed, as if you hadn’t gotten a damn eyeful already.

“I can resew the buttons back on, but you should borrow a shirt from Namjoon in the meantime,” you managed to say, clearing your throat. “Because I, ah, can’t really sew it when you’re still wearing the shirt.”

“Oh… Oh, right, yeah.”

Then he started yanking his shirt out of his slacks.

UMMMMMMM.

Usually, you didn’t care about this stuff. Men were men. They had chests. But you had things you liked too. Just like how men like tits and ass, you liked well-built pecs and forearms. Actually, you appreciated a nice ass and thighs too. And cute faces. Fuck, you loved a cute face.

“Uh, Jungkook…”

He looked up, questioningly. Big round brown eyes, his violet bangs framing his chiseled jaw, parted pink lips, the small mole underneath his lower lip looking so, so kissable, quivering slightly.

Fuck, Jungkook had a cute face.

His shirt was very open.

Fuck, his lightly tanned skin.

He was hesitating around a button, his deft fingers flexed, ink black tattoos standing out on his knuckles and the back of his hand. Your legs were slightly spread, thighs flush to your gaming chair. Half a second and Jungkook’s eyes flickered back up to your face, pretending he hadn’t been looking.

You raised your eyebrows.

“Are you really just gonna strip in my room and walk out asking Namjoon for a shirt and hope none of the six guys think anything about it?”

His eyes shifted around your room. Bed with black sheets and black velvet duvet. Television with your gaming consoles. Your collection of character figurines from various games. Your black denim jacket hanging on a hook, covered in monotone patches that you had sewn yourself, mostly occult-themed, skeletons, skulls, cats, ghosts, potions, eyeballs, that kind of thing. Back to your desk.

Your legs.

Really staring at your thighs, hips, and crotch.

Up your torso, your hands, your exposed collarbones.

Your face.

Guarding his expression, testing the waters.

“Maybe,” Jungkook said slowly. His eyes darted away and back, teeth catching his lower lip. “I really am hoping you can fix my shirt.”

You watched his face carefully, the flare of darkness in those brown orbs, a hint of naughtiness, dancing with danger. Jungkook had a mischievous streak. You could tell by the way he interacted with his hyungs, listening but talking back, helping them with things but not without a roll of his eyes or a smart remark added, probably because all his friends were older and he was the youngest. He knew he could get away with it.

In short.

Brat.

“What would you like in return, noona?” Jungkook purred, smile dancing on his lips.

Honorifics were supposed to honor you. Show a sign of respect and all that shit.

All I wanted to do was play video games, you grumbled internally. Not suddenly have a thirst fest for one of Namjoon’s best friends. You narrowed your eyes a little, seeing the smirk on that perfectly shaped mouth. He’s not stopping either.

Outside your room, something fell with a loud crash. Probably Namjoon by the depth of that startled yelp. Everyone else started laughing and a very loud, cheerful melody was blasting from the living room television. Nobody was coming to investigate you and Jungkook.

Yet.

“Turn around and ask for a shirt,” you sighed, waving a hand. “Then take off your shirt in the bathroom and then, only then, do you come back and give me your dress shirt.”

You saw Jungkook frown, not expecting that as your answer.

“Oh. Okay.”

He seemed disappointed, lowering his hands.

The silky fabric of the dress shirt slid off his right shoulder, partly revealing his tattoo sleeve and fully revealing his right collarbone and shoulder.

You sucked in a breath, eyes flickering to it. Then his face. Then back to his body. Fuck. Fuckity fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck fuck. Jungkook jumped, startled by the fallen fabric and reached over to grab the fallen collar. Your hand moved faster than you had time to think. You had good reaction time. It was the gaming obsession.

You slapped his hand down.

Jungkook squeaked, head snapping up, purple hair floating around him, gold chain on his neck glittering as he swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. Strangely, his chain resembled your sterling silver choker that you were wearing right now, except you also wore another necklace with a circular white gold pendant with your zodiac sign.

Not that anyone was ever close enough to inspect it.

“N-Noona?” he breathed, sounding strangely winded.

Shit.

You hadn’t meant to do that. Your body reacted faster than your head.

Shit.

Fuck, he had a nice body. His pecs. Even had a nice dark nipple – well, he probably had two, but you could only see one at the moment – and it all trimmed down to a slim waist and shapely hips. You could tell because of his tailored black slacks. He had been wearing a blazer earlier in the evening too. It was probably on a chair somewhere in the apartment.

Shit.

What did Jungkook need to look so damn good for?

“Where did you guys go to be dressed like that?”

Yes, you were really just going to interrogate him with his shirt dangling off like that.

Jungkook chewed on his lower lip, the tiny mole underneath bouncing up and down as he spoke. “We went to a fancy hotel rooftop bar to celebrate Yoongi-hyung’s award that he won at the music show for producing that song–”

“Ah, right, Namjoon mentioned that earlier today.” Dress code must have been black tie.

Those dark brown eyes found yours, observing you carefully.

“I would have liked to see you there, noona.”

You stopped staring at the tattoos on his bicep and made eye contact. Fuck. Those eyes. Sparkling with deviousness. Trying to see how far he could push your buttons.

“I wonder what kind of dress would you have worn?” he murmured, musing to himself. “I bet you would have looked hotter than any girl there.” Jungkook smiled, playful and boyish. He wasn’t being sleazy about it. Every word was light and honest. “A tight little black dress? Maybe bright red? Short, because you have incredible legs. It would be a crime not to show them off.” He was only complimenting you. His tone wasn’t trying to be suggestive.

Yet.

You didn’t close your legs. You had nothing to be shy about.

Instead, you leaned back in your gaming chair as if it was a throne, resting your left elbow on the armrest and your chin on two fingers, thighs wide open, and your other hand in between them, fingers curled inward to your inner thigh.

Jungkook’s pink lips curved ever higher, ever more roguish.

“Whatever you would have chosen, you would have looked so, so sexy.”

You ticked your head.

“I know.”

Because you did.

Look here, Jeon Jungkook, I’m here minding my own damn business and you’re here inserting yourself into my life, so if you can’t handle me knowing my self-worth, you can fuck right off.

He reached up and tucked a bit of his purple hair behind his right ear, grinning at you.

“You sure you don’t want anything from me?” he asked, a slight flicker of pink tongue between white teeth. “I can give first and then you can decide whether or not you want to help.”

Honestly, those sultry eyes could stop a heart.

You removed your hand from your chin, tapping the air with those two fingers in a dismissive manner.

“Hm.”

Outside, Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok were singing a soulful duet and Park Jimin was hooting at inappropriate moments to ruin the atmosphere as much as possible. That raspy, breathless laugh was Min Yoongi, who was probably doubled over on the floor in his expensive suit. Classic genius music producer of the year behavior right there.

Jungkook tucked his hands in his pockets, shirt sleeve falling down, revealing his blacked-out inner elbow. Mountains with a dark sky. It must have hurt, doing something like that. Still, he did it. For aesthetics?

You heard the smirk rather than seeing it, mostly because you were looking at his body.

“I would look so damn good on you, noona.”

Alright.

You closed your eyes slowly and reopened them to look directly into those dangerous, dangerous eyes.

“Lock the door.”

Not really an order. More of a statement. Jungkook could do it or not, you knew. He couldn’t be coerced to do anything. He did things because he wanted to do them. He was nice because he wanted to be nice. He was childish when he wanted to be childish.

And.

Jungkook was obedient when he wanted to be obedient.

He turned around, went to your bedroom door, and locked it.

Well then.

He came back and stood in front of you. A little closer now.

You cocked an eyebrow. “They’re going to come looking for you.”

Jungkook smiled down at you. “I’m sure they will.”

You frowned, lowering your hand to tap the end of the armrest. “They’re going to think I started this.”

“You kind of did.”

Your eyes narrowed sharply. He grinned, taking a step closer.

“Because it’s not my fault you look so good,” Jungkook breathed, voice deepening, leaning down, your expression unchanging, not pulling back but not encouraging anything either. “Not my fault your body is hotter than a summer. Not my fault your confidence is the biggest turn-on I’ve ever had in my life.”

Your thighs were still as open as his shirt.

Jungkook put his knee in between them.

His dress shirt was basically almost completely off his body now, falling off the left shoulder too and dangling off his forearms, exposed collarbones and shoulders, tan skin taut over muscle. A delicious body line, so fucking close to you that you could feel the heat. You still didn’t do anything. You weren’t going to do anything. You didn’t prompt this. You were simply minding your own business commanding a snake lady to victory, not expecting to get seduced by a mischievous bunny-like smile and a tiny black mole under a cute pout.

“I can’t help myself around you.”

You usually didn’t say more to Namjoon’s friends than a mere hello, not wanting to bother them with your presence. They were all men after all. You expected them to want bro time or whatever. Also, you were too busy being obsessed with men that didn’t exist in real life to pursue men that did exist in real life.

At least League of Legends had 3D models so no one could say you lived only the 2D lifestyle.

That didn’t mean that you didn’t partake when the dinner laid themselves out to be eaten. They often had to, because you wouldn’t pay attention otherwise.

Purple hair drifted into your vision, surrounding you in a curtain of violet and dark brown eyes, warm exhale and trembling pink lips, trapping you in Jungkook’s gaze, but you refused to relent, keeping your gaze even. Steady breaths to disguise your racing heart.

You kept your hands closed to prevent him from seeing your shaking fingers.

“Every time I see you, I want you to touch me,” he whispered, trying to hide the edge of nervousness by lowering his voice, enticing you to lean in to hear him better because someone was wiping a damn window in the living room outside your door or was that Kim Seokjin laughing?

There was no difference.

Jungkook’s forehead touched yours and you stopped thinking about Seokjin.

“I just want you to feel me up, rip my clothes off, and fuck me until I can’t think straight. Use me, abuse me, wreck me, ruin me,” he shuddered, definitely thinking about it, and one blink and you spied the obvious tent in his pants.

“Maybe I’m a lazy girl,” you finally said, touching your nose to his, inhaling his breath, a little bit of alcohol, a little bit of fruitiness, and that hint of cologne, fresh, clean, and intense. Something else too. Musk, maybe his pheromones or something like that. Whatever it was smelled fucking delicious, just like you. What did your perfume smell like? Spiced fire blended with addictive sweetness.

You shrugged casually.

“Maybe I’m a pillow princess.”

Jungkook chuckled.

“I can tell you’re not.”

You had to smirk.

Of course, you weren’t.

You closed your thighs around his knee and squeezed, raising to your tiptoes. He gasped softly, shivering at the simple touch of your soft thighs pressing around his muscular leg. It was disturbingly noisy out there, but here it was silent, pared down to your breathing and Jungkook’s breathing, mixing together, blazingly hot, closer, closer, doing the careful dance, daring each other to make the move that was so obviously going to happen.

“What are you gonna say when they ask you where you’ve been all this time?” you whispered, avoiding letting your lips brush against his.

“The truth.”

His tongue flickered out and barely touched your lips.

You didn’t make a sound.

Jungkook moaned, the sound drifting into your throat, and you could taste his desire.

“I tripped and fell into your lap.”

Your lips curved into a smirk.

He kissed you.

His hands on the armrests of your rolling chair, pushing it back into your desk, pressing his lips to yours, inhaling deeply, wanting to breathe you, wanting to taste you, wanting you, shivering as you finally touched him with your hands, but this was you, and your first touch wasn’t going to be wasted on a conventional innocent touch.

Your fingers closed in on his rock-hard erection and stroked him through his pants.

Jungkook moaned your name right in your mouth, eyes half-lidded, his violet hair encircling your face as he rolled his hips into your palm, whining deep in his chest.

“Fuck, yes, noona, play with me…”

You flitted your tongue between his lips and he chased it, begging you for more, and yet you continued to tease, light flicks between those soft pillows, nipping at them, even pushing up his lower lip so the tip of your tongue could draw a small heart around that mole, kissing it, so gentle, so delicate. His entire body shook, your hand palming his hardness through his pants, nails scraping against his balls, caressing all of it, acting like you owned it. Jungkook was certainly humping your hand like you did.

“You only want me because I didn’t want you,” you taunted, not bothering to hide your smirk and your slight disapproval.

“That’s not true,” he panted, attempting to get you to touch his chest, pushing you back into your chair, and yet you kept the fingers of your free hand on the cusp of what he wanted, heat close but no contact, causing him to whimper every time your fingernails barely nicked his skin. “I want you because you’re pretty, gorgeous, and hot as hell.”

Hm, that sounded familiar.

“I want you because I love watching you play your favorite games,” he chuckled, kissing the side of your lips, nose to nose. “I want you because I love that little smirk you make when you do something good. I want you because I love that aggressiveness that comes out and how you seem to lose your filter. Shit, it’s so fucking hot when you’re focused. Makes me wanna see your face when you’re pinning me down and having your way with me. Makes me want to obey you and disobey you at the same time, because I want you to reward me and punish me, I just can’t decide, fuck, you make life so hard for me.”

He punctuated hard by violently humping your hand, rattling your desk with his force.

Outside you heard Namjoon yelling “CANNONBALL” and throwing himself onto that giant gray furry beanbag you paid far too much for about six months ago. It was now a household party favorite, due to its massive size and fluffiness. At the moment, it sounded like a pile of six guys in semi-formal clothing was beginning and, instead of watching this heap of hot dudes being constructed, you were making out with the seventh guy’s face and grabbing his dick.

You’ll take this trade.

You felt Jungkook’s hands groping around, undoing his pants and the zipper, trying to get you to touch more, more, desperate for you to be all over him.

“P-Please… please, I don’t know when they’re going to notice…” he pleaded. “You’re so close, so close, ah, I can’t think, please…”

“Shh…” you soothed. “The door is locked.”

Your fingertips finally touched his chest, not disappointed in the slightest when you touched those delicious-looking pecs. They felt just as nice under your palm, his pounding heart and wanton moan vibrating up your arm.

“Aren’t you a needy little brat trying to distract me from my games, hm?”

Your fingertips hooked over the waistband of his boxer briefs.

“You’re going to have to face the consequences, Jungkook.”

You said his name like a delicious sweet about to be eaten, growl in your throat as you yanked down his underwear, capturing his lips, robbing him of his cries as you clawed down his chest, grasping his cock and pumping him, long, complete strokes from base to tip, curling your fingers around his balls, juggling them with your fingers teasingly as he squirmed and groaned. Your free arm shot around his back, digging your nails into his spine, not letting him get away. His black dress shirt was falling, falling to your floor, his bluish-purple hair in your face and his strong hands on your shoulders, sliding down, kneading your breasts through your clothes, whining that you were still wearing a bra – of course, you were, six dudes were coming over and they didn’t need to see your magnificent nipples on display, although clearly one of them wanted to see – and he was trying to get to the hem of your shirt, but you smacked his hands away, building the pressure and speed, pre-cum leaking between your fingers and adding slickness to lessen the dry friction.

Fuck, you could smell him and he smelled so fucking good.

“Noona, please…” Jungkook gasped, hands on the armrests of your chair, tipping his head back at the pleasure, pants at his fucking knees, chest, crotch, thighs on display. “This is… embarrassing…”

He meant him being mostly naked and you being dressed.

You shrugged, acting indifferent. “Not for me.”

He whimpered at your words, so noticeably dominant despite not using an aggressive or commanding tone. Either that or he was very invested in you jacking him off. You suspected it was a combination of the two, considering how eagerly his cock twitched when you answered.

“What should I do, Jungkook? Should I let you cum? Or should I play with you and stop, make you put your clothes back on and walk out there, desperate to be finished off?” you mused aloud, running your nails up his back, not that hard, but he leaned back into it so they sank into him, wordlessly begging you to do it harder, so you did, setting your jaw and scratching at his back, forcing him back into position. His cock throbbed in your hand, pulsating wildly.

Hm, he really loved it, huh.

“P-Please… wanna cum, please don’t be mean…” he gasped, thrusting his hips into your punishingly tight grip.

“Hm, why does it matter? You’ll just run to the bathroom and finish yourself off anyway, right?”

“Want you to do it, please,” he begged, his long hair curling around his jaw, dark purple locks framing the sharpness, lashes fluttering as you rubbed your thumb against the underside of the head, smearing pre-cum over the slit. “Your hand feels so good, so fucking good, better than I thought, please, I need you to touch me or I can’t get off, please…”

You removed your hand.

Jungkook cried out in denied despair, pitch hiking, the sinful sound clearly audible despite the debaucherously loud ruckus outside your bedroom door that included not one, but two people howling like werewolves for some unknown reason. At this point, you were mildly curious.

But you had a job to do.

He grabbed the front of your shirt, almost sobbing with need. Somehow his violet hair was a mess and you hadn’t even touched it. It cascaded over one of his eyes, an indigo curtain, the other chocolate orb shaking and pupil dilated, black prominent in the dark brown.

“Please don’t–”

You shoved two fingers from your right hand into that pleading mouth and raised your left.

He choked, gagging a little on your fingers.

You stuck your tongue out and licked your palm, slathering it with a thick layer of slick saliva.

Jungkook’s eyes widened at the dirty action and then rolled back into his head as you wrapped your hand around his aching cock once more, now covered in saliva, swiftly and fervently jacking him off, hard, fast, tight, nearly choking his cock, pushing his chin up and his chest to your hungry mouth, tongue and teeth and lips, all over those dark nipples hardening under your persistent touch, heedless to his rising moans, so very obvious now what was happening in your bedroom.

It didn’t bother you at all. Jungkook walked in here and asked you to wreck and ruin him, so you did exactly what he asked you to do, leaving harsh bite marks and slippery saliva all over his soft skin, your perfume rubbing off onto his body, coating his chest in your scent and his pulsating thick length with your spit, and he was so fucking hard that you were impressed, feeling his mouth suck on your fingers desperately and wetly, your name a messy garble above your head.

“Fuck, yes, umpf, oh fuck, I’m so close, so close, gonna cum, goona cum for you…!”

“Jungkook?”

You had no idea who called his name through your door, because the next second Jungkook was pitching forward and shooting his cum up your thigh and chest, thick white strings painting your leggings and band t-shirt, soaking into the fabric and creating a sticky mess on your skin, your head lifting in response to his movement to avoid knocking into him, your fingers sliding out of his lips, strings of saliva snapping as they left, and suddenly Jungkook’s face was in your face, his lips on yours in a passionate kiss, rutting into your hand to increase the sensitivity, shoulders and hips flinching, whimpering gratitude and ecstasy into your mouth, his hands in your hair, kissing you deeper, more ravenously, ignoring the questioning voices, lost in the pleasure of his orgasm.

You heard Namjoon say outside your door, “I think he made his move.”

You asshole, at least warn me, you thought irritably.

“You’re so good… so good, exactly what I need… I knew you would be… fuck…”

You thrust your tongue into his lips once and backed off, chuckling as he whined for more.

“Go ask for a shirt.”

Jungkook shook his head rapidly, violet hair flying everywhere. Your hand was still wrapped around his semi-hard cock, his cum dripping onto your wrist. His ears were turning red.

“I can’t… They know something is going on…” he mumbled, scooting closer to you, as if your body heat could somehow mask the fact that you just jacked him off with six of his friends standing outside your bedroom door whispering.

“Maybe you wanted them to know.”

You squeezed his ass and he trembled, clutching your shoulders.

“Easy way to tell them that you want to be owned by me, right?”

You could tell by the way his eyes were darting around rapidly that the thought crossed his mind more than once.

“Jungkook.”

You said it loud enough for a keen ear to hear it if they were really eavesdropping. You looked up at Jungkook, his eyes immediately fixating on yours because of your tone.

In control, not to be questioned.

“Get on your knees.”

Dead silence outside your bedroom.

“B… but…”

His cheeks flushed pink.

You took his chin and pulled him down to your face, murmuring to that mole under his lips, pecking it daintily, almost innocently, his wispy moan drifting over your nose. Your words were barely above a whisper, only for him.

“You made a mess. Clean it up.”

You stroked Jungkook’s chin with your thumb, your other hand tucking his long hair behind his ear.

“I’ll let you sleep in my bed tonight, so be a good boy for me right now and I’ll let you be a bad boy in bed.”

His head tilted and Jungkook whispered your name into your mouth, drenched with desire.

You smirked, stroking his jaw fondly.

He got to his knees, in between your open thighs, leaning forward, subservient eyes on your face as his pink tongue extended, licking at his own cum staining your clothes, eyes closing at your hand on the top of his head, not directing the movement, but reminding him who was in charge here, reminding him with nails in his scalp that he was going to be fucked until he couldn’t think straight.

Used, abused, wrecked, ruined.

-

“I don’t wanna.”

“We both know you do.”

“But I want to fuck you,” Jungkook protested, speaking softly because everyone was sleeping, or at least it seemed that way, not that either you or Jungkook cared, because you were forcing him to his knees on your bed, pushing his torso back, nails digging into his chest, towering over him, his naked body already covered in your bites and scratches, focused on his inner thighs and chest, none on his neck because that’s where he wanted it the most.

And you knew it.

“Noona, please…”

He said please a lot for someone who did not, in fact, want to be pleased, but tortured.

You grabbed him by the chin, cocking an eyebrow.

His hands were behind him, arms shaking as they held him up, shivering delightfully under your petrifying gaze.

“Please what? Hm? Saying please when you come crawling into my room, begging for dirty things with your friends right outside, saying please when you interrupt me and distract me, jeopardizing my chances to win my game?”

You leaned in close, you knowing you were only crafting a scene, him knowing that you didn’t actually care, but Jungkook wanted to hear the words, wanted you to put that malice in your tone to caress his ears, wanted you to cannibalize his sanity and put him in a different headspace, his cock already responding to it, bobbing in the air, purple-red and achingly hard from multiple orgasms, and he still wanted more.

“Saying please so you can say please when you’re under me, helplessly begging me to let you cum?”

You could hear his whines vibrating under your fingertips, pupils blown wide, lower lip trembling, begging you already, such a needy little thing, those lovely brown eyes full of submission, muscles tense with anticipation, every passing second spiraling him into increased frustration, because instead of doing anything, you were only smirking wider and wider, pushing his head back.

“Well? Tell me if you’re a dirty boy or not. Maybe I’ll do what you want.”

His violet hair cascaded to his shoulder blades, his low moan coursing through your fingertips and the heated air of your bedroom.

“Y… Yes, I’m a d-dirty boy…”

“Noona,” you prompted.

Just because you could.

His lips curved into an open smile, two of your fingers hooked over his lower lip, fingertips rubbing his tongue. Your thumb nail pressed into his mole.

“Noona.”

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, which was not advisable unless you were the kind of person that practiced that for hours on end, spending an obscene amount of money on unused condoms to perfect your technique, because nobody wants a broken condom or lube in their teeth. Why would you want to learn such a thing? You were a stickler for details. A perfectionist in perfecting a perfect display of raw dominance.

You spat out the torn corner onto Jungkook’s chest and he whimpered, unashamedly amazed.

Your left hand removed the condom from the package and your right slid out of his mouth and encircled his neck.

You inspected the condom, lazily turning it to the correct position, fingers pressed to the sides of his neck, leaving plenty of space for his trachea between your thumb and forefinger. You didn’t bother looking at his face. Instead, you spread your legs, poised and naked over him and his throbbing cock.

Your right hand started choking him.

Your left hand started rolling the condom down his thick, hard length.

Your name leaked out of his lips in a thin gurgle, his eyes rolling back into his head.

“Say please, Jungkook.”

A sharp, distinct order.

“P… Please…” he gasped out, chest shuddering.

Your hand tightened around his throat and your pussy clenched around his cock as you forced yourself down on him.

“Oh, fuuuuuuuck…”

You didn’t bother asking if he liked it. His vicious fisting of your sheets and trembling body, cries and cock included, told you everything you needed to know. You only watched the color of his cheeks, knowing there were limits to how long you could choke him. Therefore there was no time to be wasted, already starting your favorite pace, rough and hard, filling yourself with that delicious cock built to take your abuse, jaw set, gripping his throat, blood pounding under your fingertips, slapping hips to crotch, heat sparking though your veins, hotter, hotter, your smirk growing more and more smug, tongue tracing your lips as you witnessed Jungkook’s descent into sin, raising his head so he could watch you bounce on his cock with hazed brown orbs, mouth open, tongue lolling out, circulation thinning, purple hair wild around that cute, distressed face.

You let up the pressure on his neck, dark snicker rumbling in your chest.

“This pussy worth it, brat?”

The rush of missing blood into his brain, the suffocating pleasure of your pulsating walls wrapped around his twitching cock, your authoritative growl and merciless words tearing through him – you saw it all taking over Jungkook, forced to respond honestly from pure instinct because there was no time to compile pretty words or a smart comeback.

“Yes, noona, yes, I love it, I love it, this brat fucking loves what you do to him…”

You immediately choked him again and slapped your pussy onto his cock like you were whipping him.

His eyes rolled back and a wild moan tore out of his chest, cut off by your hand.

The bed creaked under you, bearing the weight of your roughness.

“I know you love it,” you snarled, leaning in, fucking him into your bed with vigor, straining his knees, so uncomfortable and so comfortable for him at the same time, pain and pleasure, clearly something he craved and loved from how hard he was. “You said you need me to touch you or you can’t get off.”

You knew that couldn’t be true.

Jungkook probably got off hundreds of times thinking about you, otherwise he wouldn’t be so ecstatic about you violently riding his dick right now.

His teeth sank into his swollen lower lip, staring at you through his lashes, his voice a thin whisper laced with insatiable need.

“I can’t cum without you anymore.”

You removed your hand.

Your hips stopped abruptly, fulling sheathing his cock inside you.

“No!”

His shout was so loud and desperate that you had to conceal your surprise, not expecting the frantic ferocity of his tone, nearly an agonized sob as he grabbed your upper arms in a crushing grip, his indigo locks crashing into his high cheekbones, sticking to his sweaty face and sharp jaw. It took everything in you to stay calm, everything to not give in and let him have what he wanted. Maybe it was stubbornness, maybe it was knowing the role you were playing, maybe it was the sadistic side of you, who the fuck knew, but there was only a beat of hesitation, a second of you staring into those beautiful dark brown eyes, so perfect.

Just perfect.

Perfectly wrecked, willing to do anything in this moment for you to continue.

Before he could utter a peep of a plea, you shook out of his grip and seized his head, crashing his lips onto your neck.

Jungkook bit you.

Instant, searing pain, taking out all his sexual frustration on your neck, sucking at the skin, hot tongue lapping, groaning, moaning, half-crying because you didn’t move. You just sat on his dick and forced his mouth onto your neck, gleefully savoring his despair, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel the pleasure, his hands and nails digging into your waist, his teeth latched to the side of your throat, his stiff cock shuddering inside you, your tight heat keeping him hard but not letting him cum, repeatedly squeezing the engorged head brutally, driving him insane.

Insane.

You could feel his lips move, but you muffled his words, pushing his head into your neck.

Please.

Deep inhale, his wonderful scent filling your nose.

Please.

Riding the high that was Jungkook’s desire for you, fingers tangled into violet strands.

Please.

He felt so, so good, spoon-feeding the dom in you with his tiny whimpers and distraught sniffles.

“P… Please…”

You pressed your lips to his hair, murmuring his name sweetly.

“Jungkook.”

No quiver to your tone, only serene calm.

“Noona…”

His hands slid up your back as your hips began to rock, slow, so painfully slow, building the frenzy layer by layer, his hardness swelling inside you, his soft lips pressed to his hickey onto your neck, even more turned on because he knew you let him mark you, he knew in this moment you were his and only his, everything he wanted and more, his hips rising to meet yours, deepening your thrusts, matching your force, burying his face into your skin and your scent, wanting nothing more than your command over his body.

You turned his head, tucking his hair behind one ear, speaking dark whispers into that curve.

“You look the best when on your knees for me, Jungkook.”

He shivered, your name falling sloppily from his lips, drunk from your power and lost in his service.

You let go of his head and grabbed his shoulders instead, putting all of your weight onto him, now letting yourself chase it, chase the orgasm that you had been building for yourself all this time, letting yourself feel Jungkook and feel the full force of the pleasure he gave you, because, yes, of course, you served him first before you, even if it didn’t seem like it.

Because when it came down to it, Jungkook came to you, opening himself petal by petal to show you his vulnerable side, testing the waters, hoping, wishing, praying that maybe, just maybe, you were the kind of person that he was expecting, wanting, needing, and you, knowing how difficult that was because, well, you had made it difficult, only focusing on games and not on those longing eyes that watched you whenever you came into his view.

Eyes that you looked into now.

Half-lidded, glazed over, fucked-out, still honest.

His large hands were still on your waist, holding you to him as you rode him with furious slaps, muscles flexed in his chest and arms, tattoos on his right arm tense and taut from holding this position for so long. He looked so good. Felt so good. Had an amazing cock.

And fuck.

Jungkook had a cute face.

You genuinely smiled.

“I’ll take care of everything,” you drawled, injecting your words with conviction and adoration.

That did it.

His lips parted, low groan emitting from his throat as his head tipped back, purple waterfalling onto his back, thrusting up into you and shooting into the condom with fierce jolts, unable to hold back any longer, his entire length flinching uncontrollably, sweet whimpers at his release, feeling sorry that he didn’t let you cum first, but that didn’t matter, because you rode through it, already there, falling, falling, your sigh like laden smoke as your orgasm slammed into you, welcoming the bolts of cruel pulses flying through you, concentrated onto your core, Jungkook’s moans hiking into pitched ecstasy at the convulsing clenches of his oversensitive, overused cock, arms embracing you tightly, hugging you for dear life, chest to chest, pounding heart against yours.

Your fingers tangled into his hair.

His hand fitted around your head.

Lips to lips and you took care of everything, claiming that mouth as yours, holding him up even though you were the one in his lap, your kiss onto that perfect mole under that pretty pout, cherishing every mumble of your name, lowering him onto your pillows, soft kisses in between. You took care of everything, lifting yourself off him, chuckling as he whined, pawing for you to come back, but you rapped his knuckles and calmed him, removing the condom and cleaning him off gently with a towel, soft kisses in between because he wanted the attention, deliberately not closing his eyes until you crawled back into the bed, tucking the covers around you and him, Jungkook immediately turning and yanking you into his chest, nose against your skin.

“Who’s the pillow princess?” you teased, ruffling his long violet locks.

His lips pressed onto your hickey, his mark on you, and he sighed in content, drifting into sleep.

-

In the morning, you found a pile of five guys in the living room sleeping in various positions on the giant gray furry beanbag and the sofa. Jungkook was in your bed, passed out. The last guy, Min Yoongi, was in Kim Namjoon’s room, sleeping on his bed, because he was a smart man and took advantage of a perfectly good bed that five drunk hooligans undoubtedly forgot about.

You chuckled and rubbed your neck as you brushed your teeth, seeing yourself and the large purple hickey Jungkook had made last night in the bathroom mirror.

You went back to your room after retrieving the sewing basket from the living room, spending the morning calmly stitching the small buttons back onto his black dress shirt as the seven guys in your apartment continued to snore away.

Then you went back to playing League of Legends.

Ah, Cassiopeia, I had an eventful evening, but I have returned to you.

-

drabble morning-after hungover breakfast

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masterpost