#we. do not have the money for Everything so *rolls up sleeves*

[valdrift]

trying to invoke white woman home renovator while i plan how to fix up my parents house

[ang3ltine]

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐁𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐬 - ft Se mi x wife reader

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: A cute little headcanon of what domestic life with Se mi as your partner would be like ♡

𝖶𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: suggestive themes, but that's pretty much it

☆After getting married, Se mi was the one who suggested that you two should buy an apartment instead of renting to save money, so that's exactly what you did.

☆ It took some time, but you two finally bought your dream apartment with a cute private rooftop that has a nice view of the city.

☆ Let's just pretend in this universe, Se mi didn't have to join the games and isn't in dept. In this case, you guys would be pretty well off. I feel like Se mi would be an amazing partner and very supportive of you and your decisions!

☆ Se mi is a tattoo artist while you worked at a boutique that you own. You both take turns to see each other during break since you two worked close by. Your coworkers definitely envied you whenever Se mi came over to the boutique to see you xd

☆ Whenever it's someone's turn to cook, someone else has to clean the dishes after. That's the only rule in the household. Also you two take turns on cooking depending on the rota you guys make for the week.

☆ Honestly Se mi looks so good with just a plain white long sleeve top that she has rolled up above her elbows. While her sweatpants sits low on her hips and her dark hair sticks to her forehead due to the steam from the pot. It's such a turn on but you'd never admit that to her.

"Hm? What're you staring at babe?" Se mi smirked slightly as she felt your burning eyes from behind.

"Uhmm nothing...? Just admiring the view, hehe."

☆ Yall definitely got a black cat from an adoption centre nearby and named her Boo. She's super playful, just like Se mi! You were honestly surprised as to how similar the two were. But you're not one to complain.

☆ Se mi is surprisngly super clingy at home, even though she acts all cool she's a softie inside. Absolutely loves cuddling on the sofa or in bed and can never keep her hands to herself.

☆ Expect makeout sessions on the kitchen counter top or have lazy morning intimacy in bed and Se mi won't let you leave unless you protest alot.

"Can we please stop now..?"

You huffed as you weakly tried pushing your lover off your body who had you trapped beneath her. Not having enough strength due to the sheer amount of pleasure you had been receiving from her.

"Uh uh, not yet Sweets, we're only getting started"

☆ Se mi doesn't mind you bringing friends over, even if they're guys. However, if she sees a guy who clearly knows you're in a relationship try and make advances on you then she'll step in. She trusts you completely, but not the sleeze bag. Don't expect him to leave without a bruise or two, depending on how persistent he was.

☆ It's normal for couples to fight in a relationship but you two don't do it often. Whenever you do, Se mi does everything she can to apologise, however, if you're in the wrong she'll point it out without making the situation worse. Will comfort you after if you're upset and take you out on a date to cheer you up.

☆ Date nights are the best as you guys are often busy throughout the day. Sometimes you'd hang out in the nearby park or go to the convenience store and just catchup. Or you'd have a movie marathon where you'd cuddle on the couch, sometimes leading to more if you're in the mood.

☆ Bathtime/showers with Se mi are often calm and relaxing. If she was feeling playful then she'd have you writhing under her touch, either from a tickle attack or coming on her fingers.

☆ Like I mentioned before, both of you would definitely collect figurines, so you two definitely go to popmart together! She likes Hirono and Kubo, whereas you liked Skullpanda and Molly figurines. You'd decorate your room with showcases and get matching labubus together!!

☆ You guys are decent neighbours, and everyone seems to love you two! There weren't any complaints from them as you two are respectful and try to keep the noise down when listening to music late at night.

☆ Se mi would definitely be the one to give you the most gifts/presents whenever she has the chance to. Especially bouquets, each would be different every time but they'd be your favourite. Of course, she'd be super grateful if you did the same!

☆ Overall domestic life with Se mi would be full of surprises and she's the best partner you could ever ask for!! ♡♡

[mountainsandmayhem]

Just One More, Baby

18+, Minors Do Not Interact Pairing: Pleasure!Dom Pike x Female!Reader Word Count: 2.8k Summary: Just a casual evening with your pleasure dom husband and as many as orgasm as he thinks you can handle. There is zero plot here, people. CW: so many orgasms, light bondage, temperature play, use of pet names (baby, honey, etc.) praise kink (obviously, unless you're new here. In that case; hi, welcome, I have a praise kink), aftercare AN: I need this man more than I need food or oxygen or money. I'm out of my mind over him and I curse the day I decided to watch these random ass episodes of The Mentalist. Friendy reminder that I am phasing out my tag list, so please follow @mountainsandmayhem-updates and turn on the notifications to stay up to date. Thank you so much for reading, where's my Pike Army? XO Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

The warm oil drizzles over your mound, spreading across your hips and cunt. You let out a pained hiss when it hits your sore and overstimulated clit.

“Ouuchh,” you whine, your breathing shudders. 

“You’ve been such a good girl,” Marcus murmurs, watching the oil as it beads and rolls in every direction. “Just relax.” 

You close your eyes and try to steady your breathing. Relaxing the muscles in your arms and legs that have been pulling at the soft silk restraints for god knows how long as Marcus pulled orgasm after orgasm out of you. 

He is still dressed, he had only managed to remove his suit jacket and tie before he started. He has the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled to his elbows, still tucked into the dark blue dress pants you picked up from the dry cleaner yesterday. His belt is still on, too, shoes toed off at some point during his slow torture. 

You, on the other hand, are completely naked. A delicate, white silk tie around your wrists that is then looped through the headboard, stretching your arms above your head. Your ankles are held much in the same way, one tie on each ankle, keeping your legs spread wide.

He’s used every means available to him to make you come tonight; fingers, tongue, your small purple vibrator, a dildo, or a combination of one or two of those things. He’s done everything except fuck you. At some point you lost count of the orgasms, lost track of when one would end and the next would start. 

The oil starts to soothe the dull ache he’s caused at the apex of your thighs. Marcus’s intention is never to cause you pain, but tonight you learned that too much pleasure can feel like torture. 

You let out a content sigh, muscles going gooey and pliant. “There’s my girl,” he says proudly, his strong hands coming to your hips, his thumbs needing the muscles along the crevice of your leg and pelvis. 

He clears his throat gently. “I think I counted sixteen.” 

You smirk and let out a small giggle, eyes still closed as you relax into his touches. He kisses the plush skin along your lower belly. His soft velvety lips are gentle, granted Marcus Pike is always gentle. Yes, he’ll tie you down or make you orgasm so many times you black out, but he’s always soft and warm. Always asking for permissions. Always explaining exactly what’s going to happen before it does - not that you have an option, or want an option if you’re being honest.

“Baby girl?” He mumbles, his breath hitting the oil, warming your most sensitive spots. You shudder, an icy shiver running down your spine at the feel of him. “Think we can get you to twenty?” 

His hands move to massage the tops of your thighs, thumbs crawling closer and closer to your pussy. Your clit twitches at the promise of him giving you another orgasm, that blissful tingle causes the tired and overworked walls of your cunt to flutter. Pleasure followed by a dull painful ache waves across your center and mix of a whine and whimper fills the room.

“What’s the matter, baby?”

His thumbs come to carefully pull apart your puffy outer lips. Watching intently as the oil coats your glistening folds. A moan rumbled in his chest, “Beautiful.” 

“I’m sensitive, Marcus,” you murmur, pulling at the silk ties he has your hands bound above your head with.

“I know, this perfect little pussy has taken so much. And you’ve been so brave and submissive. I’m so proud of you, honey.” He places a light kiss on the patch of hair right above your clit. 

Your orgasm happens so quickly and without him even touching you. A lustful gasp leaves your lips as you shake under him. His voice is full of lustful admiration as he says, “Good job, baby.”

Your muscles tense, hands fisting, as the orgasm rolls through you. You whine his name, equally desperate for the orgasm to end but also for it to never stop. “Just relax, that’s my good girl.” 

“Oh god,” your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath. 

“Look at me, darling.” Marcus said sweetly, the soft pads of his thumbs running up and down the slick lips of your pussy. 

You look down at him, the soft expression of his face riddling you with emotions. You can feel the tears prickle behind your eyes. Tears of what you aren’t sure. Happiness, that’s for sure. But also a sense of overwhelm and insatiable need, it’s all mixed together. You can stop it, a hot tear runs down your flushed cheek. 

“It’s ok. I’m right here,” He says softly. “You can do this, baby. Just three more, then I’ll run you a bubble bath and give you my sweat pants and all the cuddles. Can you do that? Can you give me three more?” 

“No,” you say through a shaky breath. He’s trying to kill you, you’re sure of it. And while death by orgasm might sound like a great way to go, your pussy is aching and tired. 

His thumbs stop their ministrations. 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” 

You shake your head, “No.”

He lowers his mouth to your swollen clit, lightly feathers his tongue over the tender bundle of nerves. You pull so hard on the restraints that the delicate silk snaps and your hands card through his hair, pulling him back. He has you on that paper thin line of pain and pleasure, but the slight attention to your puffy clit slices through you. “Nonono - please stop.” 

“Do you need to use your safe word?” He asks again.

You shake your head no.

“Do you need me to go get some ice? Make my tongue nice and cold, then make your pussy feel better?” 

“Yes, please.” You pout, sticking out your bottom lip. 

Marcus stands and removes his belt. “Ok baby, but first, my naughty little girl broke her restraints. Arms up.”

You put your arms back above your head and he expertly loops the belt around your wrists. He leaves the scraps of silk that are still around your delicate wrists and then wraps the belt around the headboard.

He stands beside the bed, looking down at you hungrily. “Fuck, I could torture you for hours,” his eyes flick to the alarm clock across the from you and then back to your flushed face. Smirking a little, he corrects himself. “I already have been, so I guess I should say that I will never be sick of seeing you like this. So submissive and sweet. Listening to my every word. Teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you?” 

He runs the back of his hand down your cheek, you keen into his touch and smile at him. “Yes, I’m a good girl, Marcus.” 

He bends down, kissing your forehead and then the tip of your nose before he walks out of the bedroom. You look him up and down, so sexy in his dress pants and white dress shirt, his strong, veiny forearms on display. You had no idea what you were in for when he ditched the tie and suit jacket the moment he walked in the door tonight. But you knew that look. When frustration etched his eyebrows and a hunger flashed in his eyes. You knew he needed an escape, and you knew it came in the form doing exactly as he says.  

Marcus grabs a small bowl and fills it with ice from the freezer. He grabs you a bottle of water and then pops an ice cube in his mouth, letting the frozen water melt on his tongue as he walks back up the stairs. As he re-enters the bedroom he sees you lying there - spread eagle and arms bound, eyes closed peacefully, long lashes resting on your cheeks. Your swollen tits rise and fall, nipples hard and slightly purple from the rose gold clamps he had on them earlier. You look sinful and delicious. He meant what he said, he could do this to you forever and never get sick of it. But as your pleasure dom he knows he’s going to have to stop soon. The folds of your pussy are puffy and red, he sucks the ice cube harder, making it small enough so he can speak. 

“Goddamn,” it comes out as groan. “You’re so fuckin beautiful.” 

You flutter your eyes open, “So are you.” 

You swear he blushes as a shy smile crosses his face. “I’m going to make it all better now, baby. I’m going to use my mouth to make you come again now. My tongue is nice and cool, it should help with that ache.”

He puts the water on the bench at the foot of the bed and then climbs between your legs, placing the bowl of ice on the bed beside your hip. “Are you ready, baby girl?” 

You gulp before whispering, “Yes.” 

His cold tongue licks a slow, flat, languid line from your entrance to your clit. The cooler temperature of his mouth soothes the burning heat between your thighs. 

“Mmmm - Th-thank you, Marcus,” you hum as he repeats the motion with his tongue two, three, four more times. 

He grabs a new ice cube and pops it in his mouth. As he sucks on it, he grabs a second cube and runs it down the right outer lip of your cunt. He hushes you as you cry out and then does the same thing to the left side. The cube in his mouth has melted enough now for him to continue tasting you. He places the flat of his tongue on your clit and presses down, his hand with the ice cube comes to your right nipple. Ice starts to combat the fire in your veins, and as he trails the ice cube around your nipple, his tongue mirrors the pattern on your swollen nub. 

And then it happens again. For the eighteenth time tonight, your orgasm hits you out of nowhere. Your convulse under his cold tongue and as quickly as the orgasm starts it’s over. You’d think after coming this many times in the last two hours that you’d be satisfied and exhausted, but the quickness of that last one leaves you wanting more.

He stills his tongue and lets you grind on him, the ice cube he was trailing along your body has melted. He grabs a fresh one and traces it along your body as you shamelessly hump your husband’s face.

He brings the ice cube to rest right above your mound, the cold water running down your folds, causing you to hiss as it hits your clit. 

Marcus pulls his tongue away quickly to say, “Come on, baby.” He lays his tongue out for you again and you push your hips into him harder. 

“Fuckfuckfuck - Marcus, I - I’m, oh fuuuuuck.”

He slips the ice cube between his tongue and your cunt and you shatter around him.

“Oh god, mmmmm, yes.” Your voice is hoarse, throat dry from the combination of your rapid breathing and incoherent ramblings throughout the night.

He stays still, letting you control your nineteenth orgasm. His name spills from your lips as you circle your hips. The walls of your pussy clench and release around nothing, slowly and deeply, over and over. Sparks of pleasure light behind your eyes. 

“Marcus. Yesyes - oh my god,” your legs start to tremble as you come down the other side of the most intense orgasm you’ve had so far tonight. 

“Good girl,” he whispers, kissing up your hip bone to your stomach, your navel to your sternum, the swell of your breasts to your neck, and finally your lips. “You’re doing so well, baby. Just one more. Can you do just one more for me?” 

You strain your neck to press your lips to his again. Kissing him deeply and slowly. “One more,” you mumble into his lips. 

“I’m going to untie you for this one. I want to feel your fingers tug at my hair as I suck on that perfect little clit while pushing my fingers against that little spot inside of you that drives you absolutely wild. Is that ok, little one?” 

“Mmm,” you hum. Mischievously adding, “Yes, daddy.” 

Marcus laughs flirtatiously as he releases your wrists from his belt and the torn silk ties. “Are you okay, baby?” 

You nod as he guides your arms down and then situates himself between your soft, plush thighs, sitting back on his heels.

“Do you need a drink?” He asks, grabbing the water from the foot of the bed. 

“Yes, please.”

He cracks the lid and then helps you sit, guiding the bottle to your lips. You sip a little, the cool water soothes your throat. Marcus’s brown eyes bore into you, soothing the rest of your body. “One more, baby,” he whispers. 

You hum in agreement before lying back down in the bed. Marcus leaves your ankles restrained as he unbuttons his dress shirt and then tosses it on the floor. You eye his hard chest and slightly soft belly, a line of dark hair that starts at his navel and travels down to his cock, which is rock hard under his dress pants.

He gives you a shy closed lip smile, “Do you need to use your safe word?” 

“No,” you say breathily.

Marcus grabs an ice cube and holds it in his fist, his lips coming to place lingering kisses on your clit. Making out with one of his favourite parts of you. Kissing and kissing, occasionally running his tongue along it before kissing you deeply again. 

Once the ice cube in his hand has melted, he teases at your entrance with two cold fingers. You cry out, as pushes them all the way in and then he curls them forward, turning you into a moaning mess. You wrap your fingers into his hair like he asked, holding his face against you. 

“That’s my girl,” he says between kisses. “So good for me.” 

He sucks your clit into his mouth, pumping his fingers against your g spot. A pained cry passes your lips, “aah, it hurts.” 

“I know, baby. You’re so close.” He whispers encouragingly, pausing the suckling on your clit, keeping his fingers still. 

“I - I can’t.”

“You can do it, baby. You’re almost there. I can feel you clenching me.” He curls his fingers forward slowly. “Come on, my love.” 

“M - Marcus. It hurts, baby. I can’t. I can’t.” You whimper. 

“Relax, baby.” His free hand presses on your lower belly and the pressure behind your navel becomes nearly unbearable. “That’s it, fuck baby. I can feel her fluttering for me. Can feel your orgasm building. You’re amazing, did you know that? Give me number twenty, pretty girl.”

You whimper again, willing your body to relax. Willing for the dull painful ache to blossom into pleasure.

“Good girl. Just relax,” he presses down on your stomach harder, his fingers still cold inside you as they tickle against the front wall of your pussy. 

You tighten your grip in his hair and he hisses at the pain in his scalp before bringing his lips back to your clit. He sucks it into his mouth loudly, lewd sucking noises filling the room, only interrupted by your mumbles of building pleasure. 

He releases your clit, “Let go for me.”

With a final steadying breath it hits you. Your last orgasm sashes over, erasing every thought until all you are is the pleasure Marcus gives you. Your abused pussy flutters weakly around his fingers as he pumps them inside of you. You gasp and squeal as your body breaks out in goosebumps, but simultaneously glistens with a fresh sheen of sweat. 

Marcus slows his fingers and looks up at you through his lashes. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispers in awe as the involuntary full body twitching of your orgasm starts to slow.

“So…” he kisses your mound.

“...Very…” he stops his fingers and kisses your hip. 

“...Beautiful,” he starts to slowly slip his fingers out and your body goes slack. 

You lay there panting, trying to catch your breath and find your muscles. Marcus unties your ankles and climbs beside you, pulling you into him and tucking your head into his neck. 

“I love you,” he murmurs into your hairline, kissing you softly. “You did so well for me. Twenty orgasms. My good girl.” 

You roll into him tighter and wince when your thighs squeeze together. 

“Aw, baby. Is she sore?” 

You pull back to be able to look at him. “A little, yeah.” 

“Come here,” he pulls you closer. “Just let me hold you a little and then I’ll run you that bubble bath I promised.” 

“Will you come in with me?” You ask sleepily. 

Marcus laughs gently, “Of course. Whatever my baby wants.” 

You nuzzle deeper into his skin and let your eyelids close. Completely and utterly surrounded by your beautiful husband. 

[1920sladydectective]

Best Friend's Mother Ch.6 (Finale) 6.8K MDNI 18+

Here she bloody is, my darlings!

All done, finally, giving me room to write even more Ambessa stuff. Next stop Professor Medarda!

That being said, I've loved writing this story and feel so honoured by the reception it has received. Thank you especially to @shinyshayminflower for the initial prompt, @uselessbard1031 for the endless support and @chocolate-quotes for the stunning cover art which I adoreddddddddddd.

Love you all, let me know what you think!

Warnings: Degradation, Name Calling, Overstimulation kinda? Lots of alcohol idk I'm British and this is set at Christmas okay.

Chapter 6:

You’d failed at the first hurdle, the first second, the truest and largest fuck up possible of a New Year’s resolution. Bubbles fizzed in your blood, common sense popping like a thousand little sparks. 

She tasted good, like whisky and regret and those tiny chocolate puddings on the trays at the party. The party you couldn’t quite remember or reconcile, the party that faded to blurring noise as she consumed you. 

Ambessa’s mind was screaming at her. This was not how she’d intended the evening to go. Rather the opposite. She was going to kiss one of Cassandra’s uptight friends, unwind them a bit and then take her drunken gaggle of children home. 

Instead she’d been ripped to shreds by her daughter and was now eating the very forbidden (but no longer?) fruit she had tried to avoid. 

You pulled away merely to breathe, but it was enough, like a shock of cold water. Tears, hot and angry sprung into your eyes almost immediately. 

“What was that?” You snarled, gulping in air. 

“I-“ Ambessa coughed slightly, “A mistake,” 

You scoffed, shoving her, “You can say that again,” 

“No,” She backtracked, muddled, “I just meant-“ 

“Do me a favour and fuck off, okay?” You wiped your mouth viciously with your sleeve, panic heavy in your heart as you rushed past her without another word. Drunk and distressed, you made your way into a random corner and stayed there. 

You’d tell Mel in the morning, you told yourself with trembling hands, but right now it would be too much. 

Ambessa was having the most tiring evening ever. Nothing was happening in the right order, as if she’d been given the smaller part of every wishbone in existence.Her mouth was a villain, intent on ruining everything. Glancing in the reflection of one of Cassandra’s crystalline statutes, she saw her massacred face, red smudges everywhere. 

“Well,” Cassandra Kiramman’s smug voice rang out, “That was a damn sight better than seeing you kiss my child like last year,” 

Muscled shoulders seized, wide golden eyes meeting cool grey ones, “Lovely party,”

“I think that’s the first time in twenty years you’ve said that,” She snorted, “I needn’t lecture you about how stupid that was, we both remember what happened with Maddie,”

“She isn’t Maddie,”

“Evidently,” A click of teeth, an outstretched hand holding cloth “I’ll see you on the 14th, I can take your money and your secrets then,” 

Ambessa sighed, wiping her face of lipstick and taking a regrouping breath. There was little to do but sober up and figure out a battle plan. Divide her stupidity and hopefully conquer her love. Or some other battle analogy she was too pissed to think of. “Thank you,”

“There’s no need for that,” She smiled, rolling her eyes at her friend, “You’re hosting the women’s luncheon in February,” 

Fuck.

You were sitting in a fancy taxi, a snoozing Mel on your shoulder as Kino rambled about the artwork in Caitlyn’s house. You didn’t care about the fact that the frames were worth as much as the art, or that some of them had taken years to find. You didn’t care about anything at all really, save the brooding woman in front of you. She seemed so cold, so distant, and you found that it did not suit her. You’d never be rid of her, that understanding had set in as you stumbled out of the car and into the front porch. She was like Japanese knotweed, strong and thriving and made to rot the very foundations of life. Here you were, a three time offender of succumbing to her, despite your morals and your strength and your hatred. 

Deft fingers attempted to grab your wrist as Kino and Mel waltzed arm in arm up the staircase, but her hold found nothing but air. A snap, a growl, something animalistic as you trailed quickly after your friends, the third of the good little wolves and nothing more. 

Sleep was easy due to alcohol, though all it really did was lock you in dreams. Tender kisses and bitter words fighting for the spotlight, leaving your mind a flashing drunken strobe. Sweaty, distressed turning and rolling until dawn beckoned and you lay shivering in the fetal position. No amount of fancy heating systems could rid your bones of the chill, heavy limbs freezing you in place. 

It took several hours and a minor pity party to make it into a different pair of less sweaty pyjamas, another hour to make it downstairs and fifteen seconds for your hopes of sorting this out as soon as possible to be crushed. 

A series of texts from Mel. Mel and Kino had left twenty minutes ago, a sibling breakfast tradition you had been omitted from due to your lack of appearance. Fuck. Just her, somewhere, lurking. 

The kitchen was safe, paprika crisps settling your stomach as you brewed some longjing tea. A plan was formed, tell Mel, pack your shit and stay with your cousin until the housework finished later this week. It was solid, grounding and allowed you to get the fuck out of this weird fantasy land. Nothing felt tangible here, all consequences smashing down as soon as the spell of the upper class echelons was shattered by travelling 20 miles north. You holed yourself up in one of the spare sitting rooms, avoiding where she thought you’d be in favour of unfamiliar cream sofas and animal artwork. 

It wasn’t enough. 

Tentative footsteps, her arrival heralded by Mina, like a slow marching procession. There was no escape. One way in, one way out. The oak door clicked shut softly. You did not, would not, give her the satisfaction of looking up. 

Your name on her lips, measured and calm, as the sofa to your right dipped with her body weight. A loud clunk, your gaze meeting a bottle of artisan Olive Oil. 

“Olive branch?” She muttered, “We were out of breadsticks,” 

You looked at it, still not her, nose twitching. Her charm, though flavoured now with hesitancy, was viscous and wrong as it lapped at your skin. “That implies there’s a conversation to be had here, and there isn’t,”

“Look at me,” Soft but impatient. 

Your eyeline did not move. Her arrogance astounded you.

“I was thinking-”

“No, Mrs Medarda,” You snapped, formality and fury, making the cat jump, “There is nothing you can say, I am going to tell Mel and then I’m going to get away from you, as fast as possible,” 

“A tad dramatic,” Cryptic, passive smile, “Mel knows, darling,” 

“What?” This had you meeting her gaze, “You told her?”

“Not yet,” A sniff, “Not exactly,” 

“Well then she doesn’t fucking know, you twat,” 

Ambessa’s lips upturned slightly, “She doesn’t know the specifics, but she knows my motivations,”

“Motivations?” You scoffed, “Your untameable pride and sex drive you mean?”

Ambessa, despite having spent most of the night replaying every interaction you had ever shared under the rosy haze of infatuation, had yet to find a way to piece together her confession. Part of her wanted to wax lyrical, a modern day poet speaking in nothing but nonsense and flowers. But your impatience, borne of hurt and exhaustion, hung heavy above her. She was the one fearing the guillotine’s blade now, she should have learned from history that the revolution always comes in the end. And here it was, the revolt of her own mutinous heart. 

“Well?” Her silence unsettled you, those carved brows scrunched inwards, as you fought a mounting urge to backhand her. 

“Not quite that,” She muttered, “Wouldn’t have bothered with the olive oil if it was just sex, dear,” 

Your eyes rolled, pushing off of the sofa, body fleeing before your blood curdled in your veins. 

She grabbed your arm, pulling you back down with a thud, “Stop I-” gasped air, “I’m trying to be honest here,”

“You’re speaking like a Dickens novel and I’m supposed to take you seriously? Three Ghosts come and slap you in the face? Or some New Year’s resolution, is it?” You yank your hand back, skin fizzing and yearning for the calloused warmth to return. 

“Yes, actually,” 

“What was your Christmas past like then?”

“Troubled,” She quipped, rolling her eyes at you, “It is a resolution, one I indeed to stick to,”

A laugh, grating against your throat, “Didn’t take you for the type, you don’t seem in a rush to change anything about your life,” 

“Stop being childish and listen,” She snapped. 

“You have two minutes,” You spat, “And then I’m leaving,”

“Two minutes isn’t even enough time to boil an egg,” 

“Ambessa,”

Muscles tensed. Fine. Fucking Hell. “I’ve been bad to you,” There, well done Ambessa, a start. Accountability, the sharp blade you must crush within your palm. 

Tart and hard, an unripe cherry between your teeth, shock bloomed. There was nothing particularly reassuring about her words, but you jumped all the same. 

“I abused your kindness and took advantage of you,” How lovely and romantic, the muted whites of the room shifting to morose greys. 

“Old news, cemented about nine kisses ago,”

“I know that,” It was sharper than she’d intended, a sigh rattling out, “I know,”

“If you know, why are we having this conversation?” You grabbed the olive oil, waving it about, “What kind of weak, spindly branch is this?”

“You’re so pedantic, must you have everything spelled out for you?!” She growled, tenderness foreign on her tongue, “The I’m in love with you kind,” 

A spell, like a muffling blanket of snow, enveloped the room. Such a tender, sweet truth, with all the certainty and promise of the apple of Eden. Was she the snake or Eve, you could hardly tell. You sat, in stasis, as she swallowed. 

FIve minutes. Ten. A brutal, endless fifteen. 

“Don’t be cruel,” Acid burned in your mouth, tears smarting your eyes, “Don’t wave that about,”

Snip. Your words cutting Ambessa’s newly found heartstrings, “I wouldn’t,”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“No,” It was firm.

“And that’s what Mel knows?” You asked, eyes narrow. You didn’t believe her, couldn’t, wouldn’t. Really, really shouldn’t. 

“She insisted upon it, screamed at me in the Kiramman’s bathroom,” 

“Wait,” Awe bubbled between your ribs, “Last night?”

A begrudging nod, that soft half smile that made you melt. She loved your lip twitches of surprise, your mouth turning over words you couldn’t vocalise. 

“Why?”

“She sort of stumbled into it, as did I,” A pause as she pulled a red wine bottle and glasses from seemingly nowhere, “Do you mind?”

“Yes, I do,” You snarked, flicking the cork onto the floor, “But by all means, don’t let that stop you,” 

“I won’t,”

You took the glass she offered all the same, settling into the sofa with renewed confidence, petulant hands spilling drops of burgundy onto the cream sofa. “Stumbled, you said?”

Ambessa crossed her legs, Malbec coating her tongue, “She was..frustrated that I had not distanced myself enough from you,”

“I noticed a distinct difference,”

“That’s what I said,”

“Not taking your side,” You swished your hand for her to continue. 

“She said I was selfish and many other things, another character assassination,” Heavy chug, “But she wanted a reason, a cause,”

“She always does,” Anticipation was building now, possible half truths and sweet words lingering just out of reach, “It’s the only reason she forgave me, because of how I felt,”

Ambessa nodded, eyes distant, “Did you know I find it harder to sleep now?”

What? You were hungover and hair of the expensive vintage dog was not quite cutting it.  Speak plainly you maddening cow, your mind cried. Instead, “Pardon?”

“I miss the weight of you on my chest, and the coldness of your toes on my calves,” She muttered, memory easier than big declarations, “It’s what I thought of when Mel asked me to prove it, to prove it was..” 

Monster. Cannibal. Villain. She was gnawing at your bones, words like ambrosia to all the battered, tired shades of you that sat before her. You missed that too, had mourned it like so many other little, luxurious sweetnesses. 

“That’s still a physical desire,” You rationalised, lips stained with wine. 

A grunt, “Do you need more?”

A nod. Several. Only confirmational overkill would do here. 

“I-” Her hand twitched, “find myself trying to force an affinity for apple tea,”

“You hate it,”

“But it tastes of you,” She said, “Sometimes it’s all I can do to stave off the craving,”

“So you miss my mouth? Physical.” 

Ambessa pouted, heavy hand overpouring another glass, “What do you want from me? I’ve already said it,”

You laughed, in spite of it all, “I want to know what you’re feeling, not what you miss or crave or imagine,”

It seemed to rent her asunder, her feelings etched in memories, stuck far away from words. Love was one, but it was vulnerable and rough against her tongue. It had only come out via happenstance, sleep deprivation and growing panic. Affection hung in the background, and devotion sat like oil on her smooth skin. How was she to wield them? A great axe pulling her into herself, straining underdeveloped muscles. 

“It’s a bit like quicksand,” Her tone was unsteady, “It’s eating me whole,”

“What is?”

 “Love,” She snarled, as if it was obvious, eyes ever so slightly glazed. 

“The more you fight, the more you sink?”

She nodded, a heady relief in your understanding, light at the end of her confusing tunnel, “Exactly that,” 

You downed your glass, “Then I’ll throw you a stick, help you out,” a dismissive sniff, “I hate you,”

“No you don’t,” No hesitation, “You fell before I did, Sweet Girl,” 

“And look where that got me,” 

“But we’re in it together now,”

“There is no together, Ambessa,” You were sinking, she would not be proven right, “Your love is as dangerous as your indifference, wolves do not cradle their prey tenderly,”

“You aren’t prey,” It was a cry, angry and indignant, as her hands found yours. 

“Then why am I covered in your bitemarks?” 

She grumbled, “I think we’ve used the full extent of this metaphor, darling,” 

“Metaphors, jibs, cold truths, however you spin it, you are an emotionally immature mess,”

“Mel called me an emotionally impotent bitch,” She said, interlocking her warm hands with your trembling ones, “You were kinder about it,” 

“I’m always kinder about everything,” You replied, tightening your grip.

“It’s one of the things I love about you,” 

“Stop saying that!” 

“What?” She smiled, something giving way inside her, “Love? That I love you?”

“I-Yes,” You were chest deep now, thick wet sand eating you, “I don’t know what to do with that, with you,” 

Ambessa sat, rhythmically stroking your knuckles, as her head leaned closer to yours, “You let me earn you, my darling,”

Thick sludge, stealing your breath away now, “Earn me?” 

“Will you let me try?” Her voice was molasses now, pushing you down into the very bottom of the pit, her brain finally catching up with her body, “Words fuelled by action?” 

“L-like date me? And woo me?” Your eyes were fluttering, heart a schism of fear and fancy. 

She hummed in confirmation, free hand tucking some of your glitter crusted hair behind your ear, gaze soft. 

“Doesn’t seem very characteristic, Ambessa,” 

“Yes, well,” A humorous sigh, “You’ve clearly made me sick, some kind of spell or curse,”

You smacked her arm, a nonsensical laugh slipping out. She was ridiculous and stupid and images of her sending you flowers or taking you mini golfing came into your mind unbidden. 

“Is that a yes, my darling?”

“What does Mel think?”

“I think you should ask her,” Ambessa’s voice wrapped around you, “Regardless of this, I will not monopolise on your relationship with her,”

“I think you’re suffering from head injury,” She was perfect, she was handing you your dreams on a silver platter, so why couldn’t you take it? “I think I need some time,”

She nodded, ignoring the dark growl in her chest, “There’s no timeline,” Actually, the timeline was she wanted to be between your legs right now, but it seemed the clocks were confused. 

With an odd, robotic stroke to her cheek, you stumbled out of the room and back up the stairs. Ignoring your door, you curled into Mel’s room, allowing yourself to be engulfed by frilly bed sheets. She’d find you later and you could have a chat. 

Find you she did, snoring and pale in her bed, with wine stained lips and tear stained cheeks. Hungover limbs crawled around you, kissing your forehead. 

“Babe!” It was a happy shout, as you flinched awake. 

“That was not the only way to do that,” 

“It’s the way I chose,”

The conversation that transpired was as follows. You bared your snotty, shattered soul and called her mother all the cruel, loving things you could think of and she nodded sagely whilst stroking your hair. She then decided to take her mother’s side, and say that you should definitely pursue a relationship if you loved her, as if it was that simple. You were now battering her shoulder with a candy cane shaped cushion. 

“Hitting me isn’t going to change my answer,”

“It’s not normal to tell your friend to date your mother,” You cried, “The only sane person in this family is Kino,”

“Really?”

A memory of him drizzling a chicken wing with melted chocolate the night before returned, “Christ, okay you’re all nuts!” 

“You still haven’t told me what you want,” Mel murmured, taking the candy cane from your grasp, “Just that she’s evil and you feel weak when she smiles, which honestly urgh,” 

Uncertain, jittering hands tug at a strand of hair, “I don’t think I know,”

Silence, her hand on your shoulder, as you sorted through the bombed out craters in your mind. Each kiss, fight, and confession had made its mark and the rubble was hard to decipher. 

“I think I want to exist a bit, before I commit to anything,” 

“You have been through a lot, babe,” Mel was so gentle, you adored her more than she could ever ever know, “Maybe just be you? Mum’ll wait,”

“Will she?” That was your hope and your fear. 

“She’ll have to if she’s serious, and if she doesn’t then fuck her, you can find another fish, preferably one I’m not related to,” 

“I love you,”

“Damn right,” She kissed your head, “Now can we watch TV or something, my head hurts,”

Three days passed, and she was surprisingly normal. There was no forced affection or ultimatums, just the same smile; considerate and mischievous. You were grateful, the space confirming what you’d said to Mel. You needed to be you, away from the magic and madness of this house, and only then would you really know. 

When you told her as much, firelight flickering in the library on your last evening, she let out a long sigh. The grating, dull pain in her heart intensified, but with it so did her plan.

The last dinner felt stupidly biblical, final and massive, as though you may never return. A veritable feast, overflowing plates and glasses, as even Rictus joined you for the meal. Kino was a jester of epic proportions, breaking more than one glass in his pursuit of a punchline. Ambessa sat, quiet but merry, against the carved mahogany chair of the dining room. Mel, as ever, was the master of pictures. You dreaded the thought of the costs to develop that much film, though you placed bunny ears behind Kino’s head as you grinned into the flash all the same. Rictus, though, was the real diamond in the rough of the evening. Strong and well mannered, with your exact sense of humour. He was quiet and yet seemed to fill every silence that threatened to hurt you. You felt sorry to have overlooked him in a way, leaning a heavy head against his shoulder. 

“I’m going to miss you,”

“Miss my endless free labours?” He joked, a gruff voice above your ear. 

“Miss your sanity,” You said, “Miss your friendship,”

“Well, I’m only ever a phone call away,” He replied, ��Us furniture have to stick together,” 

You laughed, bright and true, as he dolloped another mountain of tiramisu onto your plate. 

Slowly, but surely, you all retired to bed, a holiday well spent and a heavy desire to return to normal weighing in the air.

The next morning, as he bundled your endless possessions into Mel’s boot, Rictus called you over. 

“Something the matter?”

“Kid,” A sternness, “You’re going to be alright?”

You snorted, “I told you I’d keep in touch, where’s this come from? Delirious from all of Mel’s handbags and shoes?”

“I love Ambessa Medarda very much,” He said out of nowhere, hand stroking your arm, “Don’t let her wants eclipse yours,”

“What?” What the fuck was he on about? 

“Speak of the devil, and she appears,” He muttered, stepping away without a further word. Bastard. 

Ambessa squeezed Mel with all her might, an acceptance blossoming in a relationship filled with shards of glass and broken promises. “Look after yourself, work hard,”

“Party harder,” Mel muttered, “I know Mum, I’ll see you at Easter,”

She climbed into the preheated Land Rover, just as Rictus wandered back into the Manor with a shout and a wave. Kino had said goodbye over breakfast, nearly breaking a rib, and so it was just her.

The goodbye was stilted, her large hand stroking your hair as she took an audible sniff. It made you giggle wetly, swallowing down the impulse to just collapse into her and let yourself be consumed. You first, her later. That was probably what Rictus had meant, god your brain was slow today.

“Thanks for a lovely Christmas, and everything in between, well most things,” You mumbled, watery smile. 

“You’re more than welcome, Sweet Girl,” 

“I-I’ll be in touch, when I can,” Her hand was warm in yours, keeping you anchored in place. 

“IF you can, Dear,” She corrected, voice caring “I expect you to take this seriously,” 

A scoff, as you nodded and pursed your lips. Everyone was treating you like you were suddenly going to go back on your plan and jump her bones against the front door. It was a valid concern, even you hadn’t decided completely if you would or not.

“See you soon,” She said, a throwaway comment, as you let go and climbed into Mel’s car. 

Several beats. Your heart full and empty, a weird schrodinger’s joke. A fern tree smell from the little car freshener. 

“Well that was agonising to watch,” Mel quipped, shooting her mum a wave and pulling out of the driveway. Manicured nails flicked on a random playlist, 80s rock heavy, as you stared out at the frosty scenery. 

The flowers started a week after you had gotten back to Edinburgh. Always different, always perfectly sized for your light green vase and never overwhelming. It was a constant sign of her presence, without the stifling need to be responded to. There was never a note, beyond her initials, and that made each delivery all the sweeter. Sometimes other things would come with them too, after a long deadline or big presentation, there would be wine or a new book. It was a more considerate type of materialism, reminiscent of sand castle buckets and chiffon dresses, as glimmering parts of your old self emerged from the explosion of Her. 

Winter socials, dancing around the house in pyjamas singing ABBA with Mel as the world began to thaw.

Valentine’s Day arrived, and with it a little bouquet of roses and a takeaway voucher. 

Happy Valentine’s Day, Ambessa x

                               You too, Sweet Girl x

It was your first point of contact, and you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it. She was slowly but surely winning you over from afar, earning you as she’d said and this new, fresh, old version of yourself was happy to let her encroach a bit on No Man’s Land. Plus, this burrito was one of the best things you’d eaten in ages.

Ambessa was smiling widely at her phone, heart a jackhammer. She felt foolish, any acknowledgment sending her into a tailspin, but that soft kiss at the end of a text was enough to solidify her already immense resolve. You were hers, and she was yours, however long she had to wait.

You were granted the funding you needed, your academic success propelling you into spring with tired and happy limbs. Eleven weeks of flowers, a few scattered texts and one slightly drunken nude later, Mel was rambling at the dinner table about Easter plans. 

“Dad’s not back till the last week,” You replied around a very hot mouthful of chicken parm, “Presumed I’d spend the rest of the time with you,”

Mel’s eyes glistened, shit eating grin on her glossed lips, “Did you now?”

“Oh come off it,” You snapped, “Ambessa already offered anyway,” 

“She has? How nice of her,” Excitement fizzed in her, battling with a bit of sadness at losing her friend’s full attention, “And how is that? Calla lilies this week, I noticed,” 

“Why’s that matter?”

“They mean beauty,” 

“They have meanings?” Tomato sauce stained your grey joggers, you didn’t care, “What about the others?” 

She snorted, “You thought they were just random?”

“I-I” A gulp, “Well, fuck I don’t know I just thought they were pretty,” 

Her laughter grated at you, google your true friend in the matter, as you scanned through each message Ambessa had supposedly sent. 

Bluebells first - Humility. Ironic start. 

Honeysuckle - Bonds of Love

Yellow Tulips - Sunshine in a smile - your heart seized. 

Peony - Bashful - not a word you’d really associate with her. 

White Hyacinth - Loveliness - Hers or your own? Both, you decided. Both. 

Edelweiss - Devotion - a dizzy wave of warmth over your skin. 

Red Roses - I Love You - apt for Valentine’s day. 

Chamomile - Patience in adversity. How brave she was, how ridiculous.

Forget-Me-Nots - True Love Memories - Her stained grin, garlic bread in hand came to mind. 

Red Camellias - You’re a flame in my heart - This coincided directly with her receiving a picture of you in a lacy red bra and thong, courtesy of cheap pints in your favourite pub, and an uncharged vibrator. 

Calla Lillies - Beauty. 

Your chicken parm was cold now, your mouth hanging open, as your eyes burned slightly. 

“You back with me, babe?” 

“This is so stupid,” You spluttered into cold marinara sauce, “She’s so stupid,”

“Love makes a fool of us all,” Mel said wisely. 

“Is that why you, Viktor and Jayce were curled up last night? I saw you holding hands,” 

“Be quiet!” She whined, “Die,”

“Don’t throw stones, Mel,” You mocked, “You’re looking awful glassy right now,” 

You would stay for Easter then, you both agreed over chocolate mousse, as you sent a thumbs up to Ambessa’s invitation. 

Ambessa, glasses balancing on her nose as she read a novel, scanned the text. Once. Twice. An exuberant third time. Rictus ended up battered with requests for a clear and ornate Easter menu, despite the fact that the holiday was over six weeks away and not at all favoured by the Medarda family. Mina had taken to nibbling her phone but only ever when you texted, and Ambessa was beginning to take it personally.

Your spring deadlines came and went, as April and its gentle rest bite from academia beckoned. The journey was painfully familiar to you now, as was the warm and rough rock sitting in your stomach. You felt you again, which was terrifying as it finally gave some space for her. Something you had come to want so desperately it made your dreams turbulent and your hands shaky. She still had some work to do, but as you flicked through your sparse text exchanges you couldn’t fight the smitten smile. 

You loved Ambessa Medarda, and that was okay now. For both of you. 

Ambessa had been waiting for three hours by the door like an overexcited dog. Several times Rictus had come to ask her questions or show her things, and each time she was transfixed on the long driveway.

“Mel said they wouldn’t be here before 2,” He said, smirk on his lips. 

“She’s never reliable,” 

“She is literally compulsively on time,” 

“Rictus, do I pay you for these kinds of conversations?”

“No, but you probably should, I was going to bring it up during my next performance review,” 

“Ah yes, 31st of April, wasn’t it?”

He laughed, wandering back towards the tower of hand painted easter eggs he was tending to.

2pm on the dot you pulled up by the house, clambering to stretch your legs. As the door opened Mel ran to it, kissing her Mum’s cheek and shooting past her to get to the toilet. Whether intentional or serendipity, Mel had given you the perfect opening to stare like a lovesick fool at her mother. 

“Ambessa,” Her name a cry of joy.

“Sweet Girl,” She ignored the thickness in her throat, eyes glimmering at seeing your face again. 

“T-Thanks for the flowers,” Unsure hands, “And the messages they sent,”

She smiled, stepping forward and squeezing your arm. “Always, as long as you enjoy them,” 

“You’ve been just what I needed,” Affection swelled in your chest, “Present but distant,”

“Like a ghoul?” 

You giggled, “Exactly that,”

“You keep comparing me to spirits and ghosts,”

“I actually compared you to Scrooge, not the ghosts themselves,” 

She rolled her eyes, snorting, “You must always be right, mustn’t you?”

“Ambessa,” You repeated, gentiler now. 

She hummed in question, gaze meeting yours. 

“I think I’m ready to try now,” A sharp inhale, “If you are?”

“Well,” Her crimson lips part into a dazzling smile, “That makes me very ha-”

“Princess!!” Kino, dressed in plaid pyjamas, shouted as he ran to engulf you in a hug, “You’re here!”

“Bastard child,” Ambessa grunted under her breath, watching as you cuddled her son and made faces at her over his shoulder. 

“Later,” You mouthed, before focusing on Kino, “Hello there, Peacock Prince,”

She wandered back inside with a murderous expression, greeted by Mel halfway through a bag of Quavers, “Kino cockblock you?”

“Mel, I fund your lifestyle,” Ambessa snapped, “Do not antagonise me,”

“That’s a yes,” Her crunchy words said, offering her a cheesy grin. 

It took until after dinner that evening for you to get a moment alone together again, your spot in the library occupied as you stared across at her. Kino was out with another lady friend and Mel had common sense, so the air that crackled around you would not be interrupted. It was a good thing too, you’d spent the whole time eating your spaghetti trying to make yourself look alluring. Until Mel had pinched you under the table. 

“So,” You started, chest tight. 

“So,” She repeated, stroking Mina, “You said you were ready?”

“Yes,” Your decision was certain now, having spent some time back in her presence. You wanted it all, as soon as you could get it. Seemed you were as damned as she was. The devil on your own shoulder.

“We can take it slowly, Sweet girl,” She said, leaning forward, “There’s no rush,”

Your blood was thick and hot, mind whirling, “What if I want to rush?”

Ambessa grinned, chucking Mina away and with one sharp tug moving you onto her large thighs, “Then I’d say, where would you like to start?”

She was solid and seductive and all the things you’d avoided in your time finding yourself. She was as sticky and tempting as always, though her love tempered the fire now. Things were never done by half, and you’d fooled yourself when you planned to build a relationship step by step. Ambessa had laid the foundations, floral and firm, so now you wanted to chuck brick and cement together as fast as you could. 

“This maybe?” You half slurred in anticipation, hungry lips meeting hers. 

Ambessa was, for once, incredibly surprised. You were devouring her, with no restraint, as if no time had passed at all. But you were different now, she could sense it. Stronger, more certain of your place, your needs and wishes. It suited you, like an attractive new coat. Her hands were roaming about, searching for the best place to land, each patch of skin more perfect than the last. 

“Are you sure?” She murmured against smudged lips, holding your chin in place to stop your desperate advance, “I don’t want to push you away again,”

You melted, kissing her palm, “You won’t,” it was breathless, “I promise,”

“I’ll only do this if I get to take you out tomorrow, a nice long day together,” Her honeyed voice muttered, though one hand was already making its way under your shirt. 

“So a win-win?” 

Calloused fingers grazed your nipple, kissing your neck as she nodded into it. 

“Not sure I could ask for a better Easter,” You joked breathlessly, body twitching into her touch. 

“That’s why you’re not going to ask for it,” Her voice was dark, a switch flipped, “You’re going to beg,” 

Welcome back Ambessa Medarda, you’ve been sorely missed. I hope you fuck my brains out now. “Please?” You quipped. 

A sharp pinch to your nipple, a low growl, “Do you think I’m joking, girl?”

You ached for her, mind fracturing, as an earnest apology ripped from your throat. Your pleading was real now, her wet kisses maddening. 

Ambessa felt hungry, ravenous in fact, and you had offered yourself like a perfect little dessert. How kind. How naive. It took her a few minutes of pawing at you for all of your clothes to be left on the floor, goosebumps prickling your skin as you rubbed yourself against her thigh. This was perfection, your thoughts slush as she whispered filth in your ear. 

“More,” You whined, the pull on your chest not harsh enough. 

She twisted until it burnt, making you jolt, as her wet tongue soothed the ache, “That enough pain for you? So desperate for it,” 

“I-I”

“Is that why you sent me those filthy pictures?” Her thumb, slick with you, danced in circles across your clit, “Wanting to show yourself off, hmm? A slut in red lace?”

“Ambessa,” You gasped. 

“You wanted to drive me mad,” A suck to a sore nipple, “Wanted to corrupt me, after I tried so hard to stay away,” 

“It was an accident,” You slurred, stomach tensing as you thrust in rhythm with her touching. 

“An accident?” She scoffed, nuzzling against your throat, “That’s what you call spreading yourself for me on camera?” 

You were so close, her words like gasoline as you whimpered a confused apology, your mind desperate to keep feeling good. 

“Is this an accident too, Sweet girl?”

“Wha-” Your eyes rolled, cunt gushing as your first orgasm slammed into you like a sledgehammer. 

She slipped you off her lap, sliding out from under you to the ground, as your bare skin touched the cool red leather chair. She knelt, a devious grin on her lips, between your trembling legs as she watched a soft slickness drip down your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess,” She said, disapproving pout on her face, “Say you’re sorry,”

“S-sorry, Ambessa,” You mumbled, eyes glassy. 

“Good girl,” She stroked your thighs, a tight grip on them, tiny crescent moons from her nails, “It’s okay, I’m here to tidy you up,”

She had always been skilled, playing you like an instrument, but as her hot tongue hit your folds you found yourself blank, empty and unsure if you would ever feel anything other than raw, molten pleasure again. Teasing kitten licks lapped up your juices, her golden eyes controlling your every move, as you went limp against the chair. It smelt of her. Everything in this room did. Your body twitched again. 

Her tongue drew another two orgasms from your needy body, sweaty hair sticking to your forehead as you tugged at her salt and pepper curls. 

At some point you ended up flat on the floor against her fancy Persian rug, legs spread as she sat on your face. She was soaked, your cheeks wet as you ate mindlessly. Her orgasms were like nectar as she came apart above you, stern voice turning airy and dazed.

“Just like t-that,” She panted, fucking herself on your tongue.

Your hummed agreement hit her swollen clit, her tongue lolling out her mouth as an animalistic grunt filled the room. 

You were in a bed now. How had that happened? 

“Still with me, little one?” She teased, stroking your hair as she loomed above with a long, hard strap-on. 

“That looks nice,” You babbled, chest rapidly rising and falling. 

“Would you like it?”

A nod. 

“Ask nicely then, Sweet girl,” 

“Pleasepleaseplease,” You said, sweet as sugar, spreading yourself just as you had in those pictures. 

Ambessa Medara was a strong woman. It was her defining feature in fact. Iron will and firm muscle, she prided herself on being a fortress. Here, however, with a whimpering slut beneath her, her resolve shattered like china against marble. You were stuffed before she’d processed the last plea, a surprised gurgle as she worked to destroy you. 

Again, and again and again. She fucked that sweet spot in you with relentless efficiency, as cool leather rubbed against your clit in time with her thrusts. You’d long since given up on the idea of being quiet, mewling gasps and shouts of her name leaving you hoarse with fluttering eyes.

“Cum for me,” It was a sudden command, voice harsh and high, as she fell apart with a vicious thrust. 

You obeyed, the coil in you snapping again, as her sweat covered skin collided with yours. 

You stayed like that, hearts beating in time, as lust faded to contentment and exhaustion. Her slurred praise soothed your battered body as a cold flannel wiped away the stickiness that lingered everywhere. 

There was little else to be said that night, words of love and happiness pouring from you both under your shared silken sheets. 

She loved you. 

You loved her. 

How perfect. 

Slightly lopsided, with a turtleneck to hide the smattering of bruises across your skin, you made your way to the breakfast table. You’d agreed with Ambessa to tell Kino this morning before your date, the only thing still truly weighing on her out of the way in order for you to have the perfect day together. 

He was currently assembling a tower of waffles and bacon, as Mel systematically pushed it over. Rictus stood making more construction materials at the hob, sharing a grin with Mel. 

Ambessa, seeing you enter, coughed loudly to silence the squabbling. 

You wandered over nervously, resting beside her. 

“I’d just like to make everyone aware of something,” She started slowly. 

“Someone dead?” Kino muttered, staring at you. 

“No,” She held her hand up to silence him, “Nobody’s died,”

“Someone pregnant?” Mel asked. The shit stirrer. 

“No I-” Ambessa glared at her, taking a deep breath her hand gravitated towards your shoulder,“I wanted to let you know that we've decided to pursue a romantic relationship,”

“Oh,” Kino’s body tensed, “And when did you make this choice?”

“Last night,” You replied hesitantly, “Why?”

“Fuck,” He groaned to himself, a gruff laugh heard from the hob. 

“I do believe we said one thousand even,” Rictus mocked, flipping a waffle onto the boy’s plate. 

“You couldn’t have waited another twelve hours,” He grumbled, fishing for his wallet in his coat. 

“What is happening right now?” Ambessa said, voice stern. 

“I bet yesterday,” Rictus said as if it were obvious, “Wolf pup here bet today, thought you’d need a little time to warm up, silly boy,”

“You’ve been betting on our relationship?!” You cried, eyes wide as saucers. 

“I wanted to feel included somehow,” Kino whined, “Everyone was taking me out for breakfast to shut me up,” 

Your gaze turned to Mel, who held her hands up, “I knew nothing about this babe, I swear,” 

Liar. Her grin gave her away. 

Ambessa took the wad of cash from Kino’s hands before Rictus could, taking two hundred pounds from the pile, giving you a hundred and keeping the rest for herself, “Our commission,” Her voice was tiny daggers, “For entertaining you all so thoroughly,” 

Both men grumbled, though the sparkle in their eyes told them it was never really about the money, the satisfaction coming from destroying the other's pride. 

A pause, as she turned directly to her son, “You’re taking this very well, Kino, despite your usual nonsense, I am sorry for keeping you in the dark,” 

“About as dark and subtle as a bat signal, Mum,” He laughed, “I knew you’d tell me when it worked for you.

“Yes, well, thank you anyway,” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, as she kicked down his tower this time. 

The loud, nonsensical rumble of infighting filled the kitchen as her hand found yours, a tight squeeze making you smile. 

No more secrets. No more sadness. 

You were finally officially a Medarda.

[floylia]

# MESSAGE IN A BOTTLE ⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ ﾟ☾

10. Always worth your time 💌

If arrogance is a cloak, he wears it proudly

A golden smile with silver teeth approaches you. His ginger hair falls smoothly in elegant curls, draping near the white headphones over his neck. His red top contrasts the blue hues of his eyes, followed by an expensive car that pops out in the background.

He wasn’t lying when he said he was made with money.

“Heard you need a ride?” His teasing tone continues.

You grin, “I recall, saying no?”

He shrugs, before grabbing your bag from your shoulder, and walking to the passenger seat, holding the door open for you, “And I recall not responding, so where are we going?”

“Supposedly at my student’s house for a tutoring session, but her mother cancelled.”

He gasps sarcastically, “Then I get to have you all to myself today?”

“By whose words?”

“Mine.”

“It better be worth my time.”

He winks, “I’m always worth your time.”

—

If spontaneous is a person, you’ve met him.

“You broke the damn machine!” You whisper-yell to the ginger in front of you whose jaw almost reaches the floor as he looks from left to right, checking for prying eyes.

He sighs in disappointment while sliding the palm of his hand on the window of the claw machine, observing how the plush toy drops back to its friends, “I wanted the duck.”

“You can’t have everything in life.”

“Yes I can.”

You shake your head, “It won’t even scan your card. I think that’s a sign that we need to leave. Besides, these games are a scam.”

“99% of gamblers quit before they win,” He scans his arcade card once again. It’s like arguing with a brick wall. Miraculously, the once “broken” machine finally activates.

You raise a brow, “Embarrassing yourself again?”

He rolls up his sleeves, revealing his muscular arms before circling his right shoulder back and forth, “Watch.”

His gaze focuses on the yellow duck, carefully aligning the metal claw before squinting and pacing around the machine, looking through each window from every angle.

You pinch the bridge of your nose while trying to stifle a laughter.

Then, he presses the button.

Two pairs of eyes follow the claw machine descend, grabbing the toy. It feels like at any moment the metal grip will slip, but it doesn’t.

Because the duck drops in the prize hole.

Childe falls to his knees before thanking the gods above, whispering sweet nothings in the air repeatedly.

Strangers ranging from kids to teens pass by with knitted brows, deciphering the scene in front of them. It takes you courage not to walk away and pretend you never met the ginger.

Thankfully, he stands up and hands you the duck.

“Didn’t you want this?” You ask.

“I did. I wanted it for you.”

“Oh, I—“

“There’s a photo booth over there. We should take a picture,” He points to the silver booth across the arcade before slipping his fingers between your own and dragging you towards his desired destination.

He continues talking, but every word becomes a void. Your thoughts are frozen. Eyes trained on one thing: his soft hands holding yours as his thumb gently circle your skin while he remains unaware.

“Are you feeling well?” He tilts his head, scanning your face for signs of discomfort.

You don’t even notice you’re inside the booth, “Of course! Let’s start.”

He nods, “Alright, what pose should we do?

You scan the tiny space until you spot a box underneath the bench, “Wait! They have props.”

You snatch a Minnie Mouse headband, adjusting it on your head, while he leisurely grabs the Matching Mickey Mouse version.

“Does it have to be the mouse?”

You chuckle, “Scared to relive the past?”

“Shut up.”

The screen starts counting down as you adjust inside the camera’s frame. Childe follows suit before placing his right arm around your shoulder, featuring a genuine grin.

“We should do a couples pose.”

You elbow his stomach, “You wish.”

Four more pictures were taken until the booth starts printing each one in a row.

“Should we grab lunch?” You ask, realizing the time after opening your phone for the first time since arriving.

“Yeah…” He leads the both of you towards the exit. The photo strips on his hands as he scans them individually.

In the first picture you’re wearing the matching Mickey Mouse headpieces.

In the second frame, he makes a giant heart with his left arm, expecting you to finish it. Instead, you do a thumbs up, grinning at him while he smiles tenderly back.

In the third photo your backs are against one another while making gun poses like Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You’re wearing black glasses with a serious expression and he is laughing with messy hair covering one eye.

In the fourth picture, he’s on his knees once again—both hands up in the air as you strangle him on the neck.

In the last picture, he’s wearing a fox hat while you’re wearing a bunny head piece, referencing Jude Hopps and Nick Wilde. His right arm is resting on the top of your head, smirking as you pout, looking up at him.

“Is it that special?”

He hums, eyes still glued on the photos, admiring your beauty, “Very.”

If attraction is a season, now he knows why leaves fall in autumn.

NOTES:

i’m back lol i hope all of you are doing well 😍

i failed my calc test, my grade went from a 96 to an 88, i’m TWEAKING but it’s okay IM COOKED (the asian in me wasn’t working today bruh) i was born a writer not a mathematician. but i’ll bring it up trust

SYNOPSIS: There’s a line Childe knows he shouldn’t cross; A line built on years of friendship; A line that happens to cross you, his best friend’s younger sister, grieving her first love; A line where he plays savior, wears a halo, then feign ignorance, because love is a game for fools—and he happens to be the biggest idiot when it comes to love.

When a new stranger invades your life and an old poet writes back.

CHILDE x FEM!READER

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If your name is bolded, for some reason I can’t tag you :(

[losernb]

Valentine's Day Surprise

Sevika’s never experienced  this before. Valentine's Day is a Piltover holiday, there’s no time for stuff like this in Zaun. She never would’ve known about it if she didn’t decide to take you and the girls out for a fun day last week.

Valentine’s Day:

“Look over there!” Jinx points, drawing Isha’s attention to the giant sign. It’s bright pink, covered in a bunch of hearts, and it reads:

Valentine’s Day Sale- All the chocolate, flowers, and plushies a girl could ever want!

Isha’s face lights up with excitement as she reads it. Candy, flowers, and a new teddy bear?! I want them! She signs eagerly towards Jinx.. 

“You gotta ask Sevika, she’s the one with the money.” Jinx says with a laugh.

Without hesitation, Isha dashes over to where you and Sevika are talking, tugging insistently at Sevika’s sleeve. Sevika looks down at her, brow raised in confusion.

“What’s wrong kid?” Sevika asks, voice hinting with confusion. Isha points to the sign, causing both you and Sevika to turn and look at it. You laugh a little, knowing why she was drawing your attention to it. 

“Looks like we know what we’re buying today.” You laugh and pick Isha up, settling her down on your hip and kissing her cheek. She giggles and throws both arms up, letting out a victorious squeal. Sevika rolls her eyes and lets out a sigh, “Alright, c’mon girls let’s go see what this is about.”

The four of you walk into the store, taking in the assortment of flowers and the piles of plushies. Isha and Jinx are mesmerized. Before you can blink, Isha wriggles out of your arms, grabbing Jinx’s hand and dragging her toward the stuffed animals.

“The hell is ‘Valentine’s Day’ anyway?” Sevika asks you, never having heard of it before. You grew up in Zaun as well so you had no clue. 

“Maybe we can go ask?” You suggest, walking up to the first worker you see. It’s an older lady who smiles when she sees the two of you. “Hello, what can I do for you lovely ladies?” She asks, smiling warmly.

“Hi, I just wanted to ask what Valentine’s Day is, I saw it on the sign outside.” You reply, offering back a small smile. 

The woman lets out a small laugh, “Oh dear, you’ve never heard of Valentine’s Day? Are you new to Piltover?”

You nod. “Yeah, actually. We don’t really have fancy holidays in Zaun—just birthdays and anniversaries, mostly.”

Sevika shifts beside you, resting a hand on your back—a habit of hers whenever she senses something’s off. You glance at her, noticing the subtle furrow in her brow.

Then, the woman’s smile fades. Her expression stiffens, her warmth turning to something colder.

“Oh,” she says, voice suddenly clipped. “Well, it’s a day to celebrate loved ones.” The words feel forced, like an afterthought. “Excuse me, I need to go.” She turns abruptly, walking away without another word.

You turn back to Sevika and understand the look now, she caught the lady’s shift in attitude before you did. You kiss her cheek, as a reminder that everything’s okay. “Cmon Sevi, lets just get our girl and go.” Sevika nods, jaw tight, but says nothing.

You make your way over to Jinx and Isha, who are still enthralled by the plushies.

“Pick out anything you like yet?” You bend down to ask Isha. She’s holding a little brown bear and Jinx is holding a bunny. This one! She signs, putting down the bear to free up her hands.

“Excuse me.”

You turn to see a small man, his posture stiff, a name tag reading Manager pinned to his vest.

“Could you please leave?” His tone is polite, but his expression is anything but.

You don’t need to ask why. The woman from earlier must’ve told him where you’re from. Zaunites aren’t banned from Piltover stores, but some people—especially in places like this—act like they should be.

You sigh, standing up and gently gathering Isha into your arms.

What’s happening? Isha signs, confusion flickering across her face.

“We gotta go, kiddo,” Jinx says with a sigh, patting her back.

Isha deflates against your shoulder, small hands gripping your jacket. Her excitement, her joy—gone in an instant.

Sevika sees it, too. The hurt in Isha’s expression. The way Jinx looks away, lips pressed into a thin line. And something inside her snaps.

She steps forward, towering over the manager. “Yeah? And what exactly is the reason we need to leave?” Her voice is steady, but there’s a sharp edge to it.

The manager swallows, visibly intimidated. “I—I just think it would be best if—”

“Best for who?” Sevika cuts him off. “We were minding our own damn business.”

His gaze flickers between her and you, then to Isha in your arms, her little brown bear still clutched to her chest. He hesitates, but the damage is done.

Sevika clicks her tongue. “Tch. C’mon, let’s go,” she mutters, turning on her heel.

Jinx nudges Isha. “Keep the bear, kid. They owe you.”

Isha nods hesitantly, tightening her hold on it as the four of you leave.

Surprise Set up:

A week had passed since that incident, and Sevika had mostly put it out of her mind, believing it to be a thing of the past. Little did she know, while she was busy in Piltover handling her Councilor duties, you and the girls had been hard at work planning a little surprise.

While you baked the cake and prepared the dinner, Jinx was in charge of the decorations and Isha sat at the table, her tongue poking out in concentration as she scribbled on a card.

“Isha! The cake is done cooling, do you wanna help me decorate it?” You called out to her.

There was no verbal response—just the rapid pat-pat-pat of Isha’s little feet racing toward the kitchen. She crashed into your legs at full speed, nearly knocking you off balance.

“Whoa—!” You let out a startled yelp, catching yourself on the counter.

“Slow down, you little tornado. Almost made me drop the cake.” She just nods in understanding before grabbing the stool, the one that was exclusively hers since she was the shortest, and drags it over. 

You leave Isha to do her own little thing, knowing it’ll be messy but heartfelt. With her focused on the cake, you wandered into the living room to check on Jinx’s progress.

Your jaw nearly dropped.

Jinx had outdone herself—balloons, streamers, and paper hearts covered the room. Candles flickered on various surfaces, their soft glow giving the space a warm, golden hue.

“You seem to really enjoy this, huh?” You nudge Jinx’s shoulder. She chuckles, admitting, “Yeah, its fun to be asked to spice up a room instead of just vandalizing it.” You grinned and pulled her into a quick hug. “It looks amazing. She’s gonna love it.”

Jinx smirked but looked away, pretending not to care too much. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Once everything was set, you plated dinner and let the girls eat even though Sevika wasn’t home yet. You knew better than to wait—whenever she had meetings, she always came home late.

After dinner, you put on a movie, intending to wait up for her. But before it even reached the halfway mark, the three of you had melted into a sleepy pile on the couch—tangled together in a mess of limbs, warmth, and slow breathing.

Sevika’s Arrival:

The front door creaked open softly. Sevika stepped inside, moving quietly in case you and the girls were already asleep. Sometimes, she found you curled up on the couch, waiting for her with a book in hand.

That was what she’d been hoping for.

Instead, what she saw made her stop in her tracks.

Balloons. Candles. Paper hearts covering the walls.

She blinked, wondering if exhaustion was playing tricks on her. But no—it was real.

Slowly, she walked toward the dining table. A full meal sat waiting for her, along with a very wonky-looking cake and a single handmade card.

She already knew whose handiwork the cake was.

With a quiet chuckle, she picked up the card and opened it.

Inside was a drawing—your little makeshift family. Jinx and Isha in the middle, Sevika on the left, you on the right. It was messy, colorful, imperfect, and completely perfect.

At the top, in bold, sloppy handwriting, it read:

Happy Valintinez Day!

Sevika swallowed hard, her chest tightening. Her vision blurred slightly. She hadn’t expected this. Not after the way that stupid Piltover store had turned you all away like you were less. Not after she’d spent years thinking she wasn’t someone people would celebrate, let alone love.

A quiet sniffle escaped her. She tried to muffle it, rubbing at her eyes, but the sound must have woken you.

Blinking groggily, you lifted your head from the couch, scanning the room until your eyes landed on her.

Sevika stood frozen by the table, her back to you, shoulders trembling just slightly.

You nudged the girls off you gently before getting up and walking toward her.

“Hey,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her from behind. “What’s wrong, love? Shitty meeting again?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned around, cupped your face in her hands, and kissed you—soft, slow, and deep.

When she pulled away, her forehead rested against yours. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Nothing’s wrong. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

You smiled, brushing away the stray tears that clung to her lashes. “Oh, you big softie,” you teased, tugging her toward the couch. “C’mere.”

You shifted Jinx and Isha just enough to make space, then pulled Sevika down with you. Isha stirred slightly, snuggling into Sevika’s side while Jinx grumbled in her sleep before draping an arm over both of you.

Sevika sighed, her arms instinctively wrapping around the girls, keeping them close.

“I love you guys so much,” she whispered, like it was something sacred. Something she’d never dared say before.

You pressed a kiss to her cheek before resting your head on her shoulder, eyes fluttering shut.

“We love you too,” you murmured.

Sevika glanced down at the small, sleeping faces tucked against her, at the mess of decorations still scattered around the room. Her heart was full in a way she didn’t think possible.

She pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before letting sleep take her, safe and warm in the only place she’d ever truly belonged.

A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this T^T. I would've posted this earlier but I had to go to work lol

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY POOKS <3

[luvfae]

hiiii im in love with your blog i read everything u write >.< idk if ur taking reqs but i was wondering if you could write an x reader where her and thanos are basically mirrored. they’re known in their circles as “that couple” not saying the it couple because although theyre fine shyts theyre the type to break up bimonthly and have the highest of highs but the lowest of lows. sooo sooo toxic but they always find their ways back to each other 🫶🏽

BACK TO YOU

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader

warnings: barely any smut, but it’s still there. fingering, swearing, toxic relationship.

“Get the fuck out, Thanos.”

Your voice was raw, venom dripping from every syllable as you stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the edge like you needed it to stay upright.

Thanos stood in the center of your apartment, chest heaving, fists clenched. His face was flushed, a mixture of anger and whatever cheap liquor he’d drowned himself in before stumbling over here to start this fight.

“You don’t mean that,” he bit out, jaw so tight you swore you heard his teeth grind.

“Oh, I fucking do.” Your laughter was sharp, bitter, like glass in his ears. “Every single time, Thanos. Every fucking time. We do this, we scream at each other, I throw you out, you come crawling back, and guess what? I’m tired.”

His nostrils flared. “Don’t act like this is one-sided. You like this shit just as much as I do.”

You scoffed, folding your arms. “Yeah? And what’s that say about you?”

For a second, he didn’t speak. Didn’t move. His dark eyes dragged over you, as if committing this moment to memory. The way you stood, all fire and fury, pretending you weren’t one shove away from letting him back in.

Then he shook his head. “You always do this,” he muttered. “Act like you’re done, like you actually want me gone, but you’ll be back. You always come back.”

“Not this time.”

His lips curled. “Yeah? We’ll see, baby.”

And then he was gone.

The door slammed shut, rattling the walls.

You slid down to the floor, exhaling so sharply it felt like the breath had been knocked out of you.

Fucking bastard.

You hated how much you loved him.

It started two years ago.

A toxic, chaotic, beautiful fucking mess.

You were the queen of the nightlife, a club promoter who never had to wait in lines, never had to buy her own drinks, never had to lift a finger because the whole city knew your name. You ran the scene—decided which parties were hot, which DJs were worth booking, which clubs were worth stepping foot in.

Thanos was the king of the underground. A different kind of king, one who moved through the city’s underbelly like it was built for him. He was the guy people went to when they needed something that couldn’t be bought in stores. Drugs, money laundering, security—if it was illegal, Thanos had his hands in it.

You should’ve never crossed paths.

But you did.

And it was fucking electric.

The first time you met, it was a collision—both of you too headstrong, too cocky, too sure of yourselves to let the other have the upper hand.

The first time you fucked, it was the same thing. A battle, a war, neither of you willing to let the other walk away without losing something.

And when you fell for each other, you fell hard.

You were that couple. The ones people whispered about. The ones who burned too bright, too hot, always seconds away from imploding. You fought in public, you fucked in bathrooms, you broke up at least once a month and got back together just as fast.

And now?

Now you were supposed to be done.

Except you weren’t.

Because the next night, you walked into the club you were promoting, and there he was.

Thanos.

Sitting in a VIP booth like he fucking owned the place.

Your stomach twisted.

He looked good. Too good. Loose black button-up, sleeves rolled up, gold chains glinting under the dim lights, rings flashing as he lifted a drink to his lips.

And he was staring at you.

You knew you should turn around. Walk the other way. Pretend like last night had actually meant something, like this time you’d meant it when you said you were done.

But you didn’t.

You walked straight to him.

He smirked, setting his drink down. “Knew you’d come over.”

You rolled your eyes, stopping at the edge of the table. “What are you doing here, Thanos?”

“Waiting for you.” He leaned back, arms draping over the booth. “Miss me already?”

Your nails dug into your palm. “No.”

“Liar.”

You let out a sharp breath. “You should go.”

He tilted his head, watching you. “Nah, baby. I think you should come here.”

You scoffed, but your body betrayed you, moving before you could stop it.

Thanos’ hands were on you the second you were close enough. Big, warm, familiar. He pulled you between his legs, looking up at you with those dark fucking eyes, his fingers digging into your hips.

“Say you don’t want me,” he murmured, so quiet only you could hear.

You clenched your jaw. “I don’t want you.”

His grip tightened.

“Liar,” he whispered.

And then he was kissing you.

And you let him.

Because you were weak. Because you were addicted. Because he tasted like danger and home all at once.

His hands slid under your dress, fingertips skimming up your thighs, teasing, possessive.

“Thanos,” you warned, but it came out breathless, shaky.

“You miss me?” he murmured against your lips, fingers slipping higher.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. “No.”

But your body told a different story, pressing into him, heat pooling in your stomach.

Thanos chuckled, dark and low, and then—

His fingers slipped under your panties.

Your breath hitched, hands clutching his shoulders as he dragged them over your clit, lazy and slow.

Your knees nearly buckled.

“Apology accepted?” he teased, voice thick with amusement.

You whimpered.

His other hand slid up your back, pulling you closer, mouth brushing your ear. “You’re mine, baby,” he murmured, sliding a finger inside you. “You always have been.”

Your head dropped against his shoulder, body trembling.

And the worst part?

You knew he was right.

[fuctacles]

@genderthings Robin's Gender Week Day 1, prompt: "sharing pronouns", taken literally | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Ao3

T | 594 | Genderfluid/Queer Robin(&Steve) | QPR Stobin, hinted Steddie and Rovickie | Modernish AU

I'll have what they're having

"How are we feeling today?" Robin asks the mirror, squinting at it like its holding more than just a reflection of an indecisive person. 

Behind, a flurry of hair and blankets raises up from the unmade bed.

"Kinda fem, honestly," Steve says. "I want to wear these star earrings."

"Ooh," Robin's eyes sparkle. "Are we doing a space theme?"

Steve hums.

"But like, the night sky. Not the nerd NASA stuff."

Robin scoffs. 

"Night sky is nerdy, you doofus." With a fond eye roll, the requested earrings get laid out on their old, thrifted vanity. "With that navy shirt with purple swirlies? It kinda looks like a galaxy."

"Paisley."

"What?" Robin frowns, already pulling the mentioned shirt out of the closet.  

"The pattern. It's called paisley."

"Okay, diva."

At first, Steve scoffs at the jab, but then makes a thoughtful sound. 

"No, you know what? Can that be our pronouns for today? Diva/divine?"

"Hm, are we feeling more this one, then?" Robin picks up on the mood instantly, diving deeper into the closet to pull out something with sparkling, puffy sleeves. 

"Hell yeah, we do!" Steve grins, rolling out of the bed to join the outfit picking. Robin is the one to end up in the paisley shirt, thrown over a thin black turtleneck. The star earrings are a part of a set, and Robin gets to wear the moon necklace that goes with them. 

"So, she/they?" Steve asks, hand hovering over the finishing touch—a small pile of pronoun pins, each in two copies.

"They/she for me, please?" Robin extends their hand.

"There you go." Steve plucks out the requested pin. They're all simple black-on-white bars, easiest to match with most outfits. And get the most pronoun combinations in. 

"We should really get a display banner for them," she purses her lips, putting hands on her hips.

"Ugh, yeah," Robin scrunches their nose at the messy pile of too many, too similar pins. "Do you want to go thrifting today? We could—"

"No," Steve cuts them off immediately and grabs their shoulders to turn them around and walk out of the bedroom. "Absolutely not, we don't have the money or space for more stuff."

Robin huffs but doesn't argue. They know she's right. 

"I guess we could ask someone. Eddie one hundred percent has some leftover fabric lying around. He's always working on something."

Stevie hums. 

"Yeah, maybe he'll even make one for us, if we ask nicely."

"Ha! He will if you ask," they correct, quickly ducking out of their friend's grasp before she can use it against them.

"Well, maybe you should ask Vickie, then," she puts her hands on her hips. "Doesn't she help in the costume department?"

Robin's eyes widen, and Stevie knows it's not about Vickie anymore. 

"No. No, no, no, no, no, we'll just go to Eddie. You know what happened the last time you went into the dressing rooms."

"Uh, I got eaten out within an inch of my life by a hot actress?" they try, pouring two cups of coffee and grabbing the pastries leftover from yesterday. Breakfast of champions. 

"And brought home two bags full of scraps!"

Robin makes a 'hngh' sound deep in their throat and Stevie knows, she can relate. It was piles upon piles of treasure, but it took all of their friends to get rid of. They helped to clean up, and actually make use of everything. The glitter and feathers still lingered in the corners of their bedroom. 

"Fine," they sigh, settling down by the table. "We'll go to Eddie." 

[maybeimavillain-byleif]

I saw parts of the episode 11, the ones with Jason of course hehehe I can't get out of my head Jason's car in leathers, his perfume, the cliche moment when he puts the belt for us in his car, him being a gentleman and helping us getting in his car while holding our hand, the fact that in the end he decided to buy groceries for the dinner but paying in the end so we don't spend money, THE FACT HE'S GOING TO COOK😩😩😩😩 HIS APARTMENT😩😩😩😩 him without his jacket and his sleeves rolled up😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 everything for me just screams SUGAR DADDY!!!😩😩😩 Jason, please, you know what you have to do😩 you have a bed right there... And the shower...🫣 Stupid Candy, I wanted to spend the night with him having dinner at his house😭😭😭😭 I don't care if nothing else happens, I deserved it😭😭😭😭

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Of Cupcakes and Skulls | Part 8

(A/N) Shopping episode!

Pairing: single dad! Mafia! Simon x baker! Reader

Warning: kissies, fluff, Simon is fucking smitten, a lot of money spending, little spice

Synopsis: Based on this post by @lunamoonbby

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

When you walked into the boutique, you were surprised that it was empty. While you had never shopped there, you had walked by multiple times with friends, and it was usually rather full. But no, there was not a soul, besides Simon, two staff members, and you.

“Oh Simon, it’s good to see you. How is Millie?”

An older woman walked out from the back and right to the man beside you, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“Imone, it’s good to see you too. Millie is fine, she will probably be mad that we didn’t take her with us when she finds out we went here. And thank you for clearing out the shop for us, I appreciate it.”

She waved her hands in the air, smiling at him.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Anything for you.”

Her warm, friendly eyes flickered to you, a grin taking over her mouth.

“And who is this, if I may ask?”

You quickly introduced yourself, your smile widening when Simon hastily added ‘My girlfriend.’.

“Oh, Simon! She is way too pretty for you.”

She grabbed your cheeks lightly squishing them as she grinned at you, before she turned to Simon, chuckling.

“Just kidding, just kidding. Now, what can we do for you?”

Simon rolled his eyes in a good-natured manner, leading you further into the establishment.

“We need a dinner dress for her. Something elegant, but simple.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the Imone rush through the store, picking out dresses and handing them to what you assumed were her assistants, who carried them to a dressing room. While you were completely enamored by her, Simon took the opportunity to look around, picking out a few things and handing them off as well. Once they were both satisfied, you were hurried to the dressing room.

You tried on dress after dress, parading it in front of both Imone and Simon, but after you were done with the first ten, none of you were too happy with any of them. As you walked out in the eleventh dress, you noticed that Simon was on his phone, typing away again, not even looking up and you felt your heart break a little. He probably hated dress shopping, after all, what man would actually enjoy that?

With a quiet sigh, you walked back into the changing room and pulled the curtain close behind you. But before you could call out to one of the assistants to help you out of the dress, the curtain was pushed to the side and Simon entered.

“Is everything okay? You were gone so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to look.”

His eyes found yours in the mirror, concern evident.

“You were busy on your phone, I…I just thought you were tired of seeing me in the umpteenth dress.”

He chuckled darkly, his hands quickly finding your hips as he carefully pulled you back and against his chest.

“Darling, I will never tire of seeing you. I don’t care if you’re in a ballgown or in the same shirt you’ve worn for the last three days. You will always look ravishing and I will always want to see you. I promise.”

He peppered featherlight kisses against the skin of your neck as you relaxed against him, a content smile on your lips. One of his hands drifted to the back of your dress, where he skillfully popped the buttons until the sleeves started to slip down your arms. Out of reflex, you lifted them to keep the fabric from exposing yourself, but when Simon’s warm hands settled over your wrists and gently pulled them down, you didn’t fight it.

“Let me see them…”

He hissed as soon your breasts were fully exposed, nipples quickly hardening under his gaze. You watched in the mirror as his hands lifted, cupping them and humming appreciatively as his thumbs started to rub over your perks. A low moan escaped your lips, your head falling back against his chest, eyes lidded as you gazed up at him.

His eyes were dark as he drank you in, fingers softly pinching and pulling as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You needed to be filled so badly, but he paid you no mind as you quietly whimpered. Only when you whispered his name did he finally look down at you, a smug grin on his face as he took in the state you were in.

“Ssshh…not here, my love. Only I get to hear you when you finally scream my name.”

Another whine left your lips at his words, this one in frustration as he chuckled in amusement. His fingers tugged on your nipples one more time before he lowered his hands until they were wrapped around your waist. One quick kiss to your temple, and he took a step back, coldness filling the space where he once was, but his hands remained on you, keeping you up until he was sure you wouldn’t collapse.

Your breaths still came out in little pants as he let you go, looking around the dressing room before he picked a dress out from underneath the others and hung it on top.

“Why don’t you try this one next?”

With those words and a shit-eating grin, he left the dressing room. You took a few more moments to calm yourself down before you called in one of the assistants and changed into the dress Simon had picked out just minutes before. And you loved it.

It was a beautiful off-shoulder dress with a flowing skirt that reached just beneath your knees. The sleeves were layered and crossed in front to form the bodice. It was made of soft and light satin with a layer of gorgette over it, creating a slight shimmering effect. Once you looked in the mirror, you couldn’t help the soft gasp that escaped you. The color made your skin glow, and the cut hugged you in all the right places.

While you were still standing in the changing room, slowly spinning back and forth, the assistant came back with a pair of heels.

“Mister Riley said to bring these to you. Said they would go nicely with the dress.”

You nodded and held onto the wall as the woman carefully helped you step into them. A relieved sigh left your lips as you noted that the heel wasn’t too tall and appeared to be more of a block than a stiletto. They were surprisingly comfortable to wear as you stepped out and walked to where Simon and Imone were waiting.

The moment the woman caught sight of you, a loud gasp escaped her, and she turned to Simon, whose eyes were slowly moving down your body, a hungry look in them.

“You look fabulous, darling.”

You grinned at Imone and quietly thanked her before your eyes focused on the man before. His hands were curled into fists, which rested on the top of his thighs and he looked as if it took everything within him to not pounce on you that very moment.

“We’ll take that one, as well as the shoes.”

Instantly, you tried to reach behind you, your fingers searching for the price tag, but Simon just chuckled, knowing what you were trying to do.

“Don’t worry about it. They don’t have price tags here.”

He got to his feet and slowly stalked towards you, wrapping his hands around your waist the moment he was close enough. Involuntarily, you immediately relaxed against him, leaning closer out of instinct. He grinned down at you, gently pecking your lips before spinning you around and sending you back to the changing room with a light pat against your ass.

By the time you were back in your own clothes, Simon had already paid and was waiting for you on the couch. The moment he heard you approaching, he looked up from his phone, a soft smile on his face, you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“The bags are already in the car. Ready to leave when you are.”

You nodded and looked around. If you were honest with yourself, you could spend hours in this store. The dresses weren’t all; they also had a huge shoe section and an entire room just for accessories. But for today, you were more than happy with what you had tried on what Simon had bought you.

“Let’s go.”

He nodded and got to his feet, his hand immediately finding yours and holding onto it. Both of you bid goodbye to Imone - who had you promise to stop by again soon and bring Millie next time - before you walked back out into the street and to the car. Once the both of you sat inside, and Simon was about to start the engine, his phone pinged and he pulled it out, a frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Millie’s classes are ending early today. Do you mind if we pick her up?”

You grin, already excited to see the little girl again.

“Of course not!”

Simon smiled, gently raising your hand to his lips before pressing a sweet kiss to your knuckles.

“Let’s go then.”

Please consider reblogging and following me! It helps a lot!

Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @lunamoonbby @distinguishedprincesstrash @xanvasy @reader-1290

Like what you're reading? Buy me a coffee!

[anomaly-076]

If the tkdb ghouls were the whb devils, who do you think would be who?

If Tkdb boys were WHB demons

‎‧₊˚✿Masterlist✿˚₊‧

♦ Ooh a fun concept! ^^ *rolls up sleeves*

  ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

Jin

Jin is an absolute Belphegor with the whole 'leave me alone I'm sleeping thing'

Plus he has his trusty servant to take care of everything

Tohma

For the same reason I'm gonna say Tohma is pretty much Beleth

A trusty servant taking on the responsibilities of leading the kingdom/house

Lucas

Okay, not a devil, but I'm gonna say Minhyeok

Our trusty childhood friend who's all prim and proper

And him and Ppyong are amazing besties just like Lucas and Kaito

Kaito

To simply put it: Kaito is an idiot

Kinda like Ppyong, who mostly says stuff that make you wonder if there's a single braincell happening (doesn't matter, he's my son either way)

They both also see themselves at a prince in a shining armor

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Alan

Rarely talks, doesn't really show much emotions...

That sounds like Zagan to me!

Another thing they have in common is their interest in working out

Leo

*sigh* this might be controversial, but I don't hate Leo

Otherwise I'd hate to assign him one of my favorites: Paimon

They're both these cheery and cutesy social media fiends

To be fair: Paimon is a bit controversial too

In a way that there was a bit of drama bc regarding people's HCs (one person was hypocritical about them not adhering to canon)

Sho

Bike boy Sho gets a bike boy Amy

They're both pretty chill despite coming off as a meanie at first

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Haku

Our ever-so-cheery Haku can be no other than babyboy Gamigin

They're both so energetic and adorable ^^

Towa

This is more based on my personal HC, but Morax strikes me as the type to be able to talk to plants/animals and to attract them

Both our boys are on the quiet side and morax is definitely the romantic type too

Ren

In the original design, Gusion was made out to be a gamer in a onesie and so I HC that it was his "teenage" phase he hasn't grown out of and only chooses to dress more mature

They both would absolutely love to have a movie/gaming marathon with MC

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Taiga

Ah, guns ablazing

Stolas has a bit of a short fuse and likes to fire two of his thompsons

I kinda wanna see these two on a shooting range now

Romeo

With Romeo's obsession with meeting deadline money goals, Bimet is the absolute perfect equivalent

We even had an event where some of his money went missing and he threw such a bad temper tantrum

Ritsu

This one is kinda hard...

I don't think there is a demon that would be similar to Ritsu..

Oh, but we do have Bael who is constantly doing paperwork instead of Beelzebub, who's always gone

And Bael is constantly sending all the other nobles out to chase him down

Just like Ritsu constantly bothers Taiga and Romeo with his lawyer roleplay

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Subaru

Subaru as the pretty boy he is gets another pretty boy, Foras

According his idiosyncrasy, Foras is the prettiest demon in Hell so much so even his king, Leviathan, gets jealous

Haku

Personality vise I don't think we have a demon to match Haku, but the spiritual vibe he has reminds me of Buer

Buer gives me the vibe of some temple priest/spiritual healer

Zenji

Zenji is another one who's kinda hard to find a demon for

There isn't really an artist/writer type of demon

So maybe... Astaroth?

Astaroth finds pleasure in corrupting people with his words, just like Zejni wants to spread his poems and songs

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Edward

Old man

Just like Lucifer

I can imagine them sitting in Lucifer's greenhouse and relaxing together

Rui

Another one I wanna say Astaroth about?

Rui is a flirt, just like Astaroth

Plus the whole bar thing matches the corruption thing really well

I once even wrote Astaroth as someone you don't want to watch over the alcohol on a party

Lyca

This one is kinda obvious: Naberius

Since he can turn into Cerberus while angry and they're both precious

  ⋆˚✿˖°

Yuri

Yuri gives strong Agares vibes withe way he thinks everything revolves around him

They're both full of themselves and have a faithful sidekick

Jiro

Gentle giant ♥

Okay, Marbas isn't as gentle (if even), but they're both precious big medic boys

I can even imagine Marbas waving a chainsaw around

If he wan't for the safety of everyone tied up

[lycanlupins]

┌─ “ „ EYES LIKE SKY ─┐

Roy Harper x F!Reader - Chapter 1

Cam Girl Au! [+18]

Sex toys, D&S elements, controlled orgasm, pet names

AN: im kinda back?? idk im trying this out because i really like writing again 🥹 lmk if y’all like this!! remember to like + rb + leave a comment if you enjoyed it!! Anyways, enjoy Chapter 1!!

You heard a familiar ping come from your laptop, a sign that everything was up and working on your end.

“Great…” you sigh and roll your eyes, “Time for another show.” You’re a cam girl, and a pretty successful one at that, but it never failed to make you rethink your career path when you logged in at the same time every night like clockwork. You didn’t have a specialty so to speak but you did have a specific clientele, so you did what you do best; angle your camera, adjust your lingerie and press the glaring red go live button to start your show.

[r0binhood]: how’s our favorite girl?

[seraphicsiren]: tired, been pretty low energy lately but i’m ready to please as always!

Your number one fan, r0binhood, was finally there and that meant you’d be taking home at least $100 that night.

[r0binhood]: good, hopefully that means you have all of your toys charged ;)

Gag. He was probably some creep in his 50’s, rubbing one out on his wrinkly cock while you talk him through it but fuck it, his money was a nice cushion while you got back on your feet at the new apartment you were renting.

“Hi boys, let’s start shall we?” You purred, pushing the straps of your nightgown down ever so slowly just to tease your viewers. Suddenly you hear a familiar notification, your first tip of the night. A few tokens here and there from desperate men trying to get your attention but you knew better. You knew if you wanted the real money, you would wait for him.

r0binhood has sent you 50 tokens.

There it is. You push down your nightgown, exposing the lacey bra underneath, a slew of tips flooding your notifications once more. They never got to see your face, it was your one rule, and it kept the mystery alive for them. You won’t have a breach of privacy and they can imagine you look like their wildest, wettest dreams.

[r0binhood]: private show?

[seraphicsiren]: you know the rules, private shows are 500 an hour.

He wouldn’t, you knew better than to expect a man to buy that sort of time on one of your shows. Sure, you may make a few hundred per show along with your other forms of income but a private show? In your dreams. You were asking $25 an hour for your time, it wasn’t much but most men would tune out then and there.

r0binhood bought a private show.

The screen went blank, no notifications to be had and then an empty chat popped up.

[r0binhood]: hi princess. just thought i’d spoil myself and see what you can do for me with the time we have here.

You were used to entertaining multiple men, and sometimes others, at the best of times on your streams. This was scary, this was something you were completely foreign to.

[seraphicsiren]: you have an hour of my time to tell me to do whatever it is you’d like. my attention is all on you.

Your hands were shaking, sweaty, and clammy at the thought of performing for one person. You had been intimate in the past, that wasn’t the issue, he was paying for you to please him this time. And while yes, you knew what he liked more or less, he was still someone completely stranger to you.

[r0binhood]: why don’t you start off with the bullet, don’t take anything off, just use the bullet on yourself.

You grabbed the compact vibrator from your nightstand, flipping the switch to the on position as it came to life with a whirring sound. Most often than not, you were in control of the speed and rhythm, but tonight he had tricks up his sleeve.

r0binhood redeemed 300 tokens for bullet control.

Shit. You begrudgingly sent the link for a 10 minute session on your vibrator.

[seraphicsiren]: use those 10 minutes wisely

[r0binhood]: i’ll only need 5

An immediate slow vibration started against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your nerves.

“Fuck…” you moan under your breath. Usually men like him would spend their 10 minutes of control on the highest setting, they never knew what you liked. They thought all women must like a high intensity session when it just felt boring to you, but you faked orgasm after orgasm when they were in control to make them feel better.

Not this time. No, this man knew what he was doing, he slowly upped the intensity until he heard that hitch in your breathing, the one that indicated that it must have felt good.

“Mmnh…that feels so good, christ…” you lolled your head back, rutting against the vibrator and a pillow under you for better friction. He must have noticed the way you were reacting because he immediately switched up the intensity for a split second to grab your attention.

[r0binhood]: needed your attention sweetheart, i want your eyes on me, i want to watch you come undone.

This man… he commanded his attention, and he commanded it well. Why was this man behind the screen making you feel horny for some god forsaken reason? Was it the dominance? The control he had over you at this moment? Fuck it, you didn’t care, it just felt so damn good.

Another minute passed before he grew bored of the intensity, turning it up a setting or two.

“Shit!” You squeaked, panting like a dog at the feeling between your legs. You were soaking, dripping all over your pretty red sheets and pillows, grinding down for some semblance of friction against your puffy, needy cunt.

Soon enough, the setting he was at was beginning to make you see stars. Babbling nonsense and a string of curses as you kept humping your pillow like a horny teen until—

“SHITSHITSHIT!” You felt that tight coil in your stomach pop, squirting all over your sheets and everything within a small distance of you. You wanted to collapse, you could feel your legs turn to jelly as you tried to crawl back to your laptop.

[seraphicsiren]: 5 minutes…left…

You knew he was chuckling behind his screen, because how the fuck did he get you to squirt on camera with just him in control.

[r0binhood]: i’ll let you be for tonight, here’s the rest of my tokens. i’ll be back tomorrow night if you’re online. see ya princess.

r0binhood tipped 1000 tokens.

Not long afterwards you ended your stream, too spent and shocked to continue for the night. You shut your laptop, cleaned your bed and made a beeline for your kitchen.

“How the fuck did he do that…” you racked your brain for the amount of times you had actually cum on stream. You could count the times on one hand and now make that two hands. You were still throbbing, rubbing your legs together while you washed some dishes in your sink. You never noticed the window in your kitchen was facing another occupied apartment until just now.

“Huh…wonder who lives there.” You watch the light from their tv flicker different colors. Suddenly you see movement, someone getting closer to the window. Holy fuck.

He looks directly at you, a smile wide on his face as he waves and opens his window. You were awestruck for a moment, he was gorgeous. Not in a model way but something different. He was rugged and manly but still somehow read as boyish. After a few moments you join him in opening your window, leaning out ever so slightly.

“Hi! I’m Roy, nice to see a friendly face across the way for once!” He shouted.

“I’m Y/N, I’m guessing this place was empty for a bit?”

“Yeah, this isn’t really the nicest building around but it's got charm! What do you say we meet for coffee sometime? I haven’t met anyone around my age in forever.”

“Yeah! How does tomorrow morning sound?”

He smiles a toothy grin. God he was cute, missing a tooth by his right canine and light ginger stubble littered his chin. He nodded while you were busy taking in every feature of his face and he chuckled.

“Hey, get some sleep, you look out of it.” He shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t tell if you were throbbing from the mind numbing orgasm you had earlier or if his kind smile had your brain in a tizzy, either way you needed to take care of that feeling before bed. You finished up dishes in the kitchen, closed your window and headed straight for the cum soaked bed.

You were honestly too tired and too horny to care so you grabbed the nearest towel and dropped it on top of your sheets. You could worry about that in the morning, right now you needed sweet relief. And with your final spur of energy you grabbed your dildo and got right to work at the thought of that hot ginger across the hall.

➸➸➸

[delirious-donna]

The Moments Before [Part Six]

"You will drink from her. We will find out together if there is any truth behind the old stories. This is not a request. It’s an order.”

story summary: Levi isn’t hungry, or so that’s what he claims. A vampire must drink to survive, and his sire refuses to let the man give up without trying every trick up his sleeve. When a new ‘donor’ appears, one who is different from all the rest, will Levi be able to keep resisting?

pairing: Levi Ackerman (vampire) x female reader (human)

warnings: hospital/medical setting (dream), implications of losing a parent, grief, fear of death, a lot of plotting for the story, vampire powerplay

note: the next chapter... yeah, it's gonna be a BIG one. Explosive to say the least, and expect very mature content. Whilst I'm here, let me thank all of those who have left comments or reblogged this story. 2024 has been a shitshow and writing has helped me stay sane. Thank you for indulging my hobby.

Part Five | Masterlist | Read on AO3 | Part Seven

“What made you want to try this line of work?”

The question sounded innocent enough, but you still peered curiously at Hange.

They were lying spread out on an antique couch that looked like it was due far from respect than what it was receiving. Your eyes narrowed on them, picking at their cuticles and swinging a barefoot over the back of said couch.

Trust was earned in your book. That was a lesson you had learned the hard way, and if you were to continue your service here then you needed to be mindful of what information you volunteered and to whom. Saying that, Hange had been nothing but friendly towards you, in fact, they were the first person to really talk to you.

Pleasantries were all well and good, but they wore thin very quickly. Hange had appeared in your life like a whirlwind, and despite the reservations you had promised yourself you would hold tight to, you found it all too easy to become a little more familiar with them.

“Well, the money is good,” you admitted slowly, cautiously.

Hange snorted and rolled their body, so they were looking at you properly, glasses perched low on their nose. “Girl, please. There has got to be more to it than the fat wad of cash Erwin handed you. I know—for a fact—that there are well paying jobs that are far less intrusive than this one. You had to move here for an indefinite period. That is not an easy decision to make for a quick buck, even if it is the big bucks.”

“It was a good enough answer when your boss interviewed me, and I use that word lightly, grilled would be far more accurate.”

Erwin had been very thorough in his line of questioning, even going as far as to ask for your family history going back six generations. You recalled him explaining with the most casual of shrugs and a soft, near disconcerting smile, that no vampire worth mentioning wanted to take blood from a potential relative. What a disturbing thought…

“Erwin and I do not think alike—at all—in any way, shape or form.” Hange snorted, amused that you would ever think them to be remotely similar. “Whilst he would absolutely know if you were lying…”

A thrill shot through your spine. Hange smiled, knowing that your heart rate had spiked at that very moment.

“As I was saying… he would know if you were lying, but sometimes we can tell the truth whilst not revealing everything. I enjoy picking holes in people. Consider yourself my latest project.”

Suddenly the gummy bears in your hand looked less appealing than before. Dropping the handful into your lap, you placed one on your tongue and sucked on it quietly. You had no interest in being a weird science experiment.

“C’mon,” Hange chided with a childlike whine.

They rolled right off the edge of the couch with an ungraceful thump and crawled on their knees towards the overstuffed chair you occupied, planting their chin on the arm. They reminded you of a puppy who had just been scolded.

“We’re friends, right? It’s not like I don’t trust you. I just wanna know. There’s a reason other than the money, isn’t there?”

If you didn’t already feel trapped, you certainly did now.

How on earth had you found yourself in the company of a vampire acting like a damn puppy so readily? They were meant to be these all-powerful beings and here was Hange acting like if you gave them the barest of crumbs, they would roll over to present their belly. It defied logic!

Pushing out a long, low breath, you straightened your back.

You could admit to certain things, you didn’t need to say it all. It wouldn’t be so bad for at least someone around here to know a little more about you. Your mind immediately flitted to Levi, cheeks flushing that you wanted that person to be him more than anyone else. He didn’t care. He wouldn’t care. That’s what you told yourself because the alternative was too dizzying.

“I definitely didn’t lie; money really is a major factor. My dad… he works too hard. He’s getting older now and he refuses to slow down even though I know—I can see—the toil it’s taking on him. I want him to retire whilst he still has a chance to live, to enjoy his golden years without having to worry that he won’t have enough money to pay the bills. Do you know how annoying it is to have a father who refuses to listen to reason?”

“I can imagine,” Hange replied, eyebrows raised, and you had the distinct impression that they were thinking of one such person who fit your description. You smiled in recognition. “I get that, but blood donor, really? Didn’t fancy a short stint of working as a high-end escort or something that doesn’t come with the iron deficiency and the headache of cranky vampires?”

This was the crux of your problem; vampires offered you the potential solution to another problem. A far more personal problem. It felt like your clock was ticking and the noise only grew louder and more deafening with each day that passed.

You blinked hard, shutting out the fluorescent strip lighting and the beeping monitors that never ceased their noise. Not even in those final moments, the sound of a flatlining heart monitor permanently scarred your memories.

That was not your future. It had been so much of your past that you damn well refused to give it any room in your future. Drastic times called for drastic measures. Weren’t you using them as much as they were using you? It was a fair trade, right?

“You’re right, it would have been easy to fall into escorting, if I could find a place reputable enough to ensure I wasn’t going to be taken advantage of, but I have a problem with getting close to people,” you said whilst looking down at your fuzzy yellow socks.

“How so? You seem just fine in being able to converse and I don’t sense any social anxiety in you, even when you’re the only human in the room. Plus, this job requires you to get close… I mean, it’s kinda necessary.” Hange sat back on their haunches, puzzlement evident in their features and their eyes dropping to your neck and back.

It felt like being under a microscope.

You shrugged, an attempt at nonchalance. “People die. I have a problem with that.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I’m fucked.”

“An understatement, dear.”

A chuckle left your lips, it grew into peals of laughter until you were clutching your stomach and bent over from the pain of them. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, not yet falling, and you were quick to wipe them away as you fixed your watery stare on Hange.

You hadn’t lied, but again, you hadn’t disclosed everything.

“Any chance we can change the subject for now? I’m feeling suitably embarrassed,” you said with a hiccup.

Gratitude filled your chest when they nodded, solemn one moment then playful the next, moving on to regale you with tales of their younger years spent with Erwin and Levi.

~

“What’s the problem?” Erwin inquired, fatigue evident in his tone, and mirrored by the pinching motion at the bridge of his nose.

Levi wasn’t keen to be back in this office, but he knew that when it came to finding the answers he needed… Erwin would be key. There was only so much he could find out on his own.

He just needed to take care with his words, not something he was known for.

“Why her?”

The blond stilled, his piercing blue eyes locking with Levi’s. A smile unfurled—devilish and knowing. “There is something you aren’t telling me, Levi, but that’s okay. You’ll tell me in your own time, I have nothing but time, after all.”

“You’re not helping! Can you answer a question without turning it back on me or into some elaborate riddle that makes my head pound?” Levi all but growled.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You want to know why her… I don’t know if I can truly articulate my reasons, there was simply a feeling. She felt like someone you would like, for lack of a better word. That you wouldn’t steamroll over her and perhaps she could reach you where I have been unsuccessful.”

Erwin’s gaze turned thoughtful, the edges of his eyes softening into something akin to melancholy. Levi glanced away, not nearly ready to decipher any of the emotions flitting freely across his maker’s face.

“Do you remember those stories you used to tell us about blood singing?” Levi asked without further preamble.

“… yes. Of course. They are legends of sort; I don’t think there are many—if any—that believe the tales these days. Why do you ask?”

Levi looked at him now. Gray mercurial irises fixed steadily on those artic blue ones that never failed to leave him feeling as if Erwin was looking inside his head, rifling through his memories and thoughts as if it was his personal filing cabinet.

“Did it happen—”

Levi held up a hand, and for once, Erwin quieted.

“You say there is little to no one that believes it to be true, but what about you? Do you think meeting someone who’s blood sings to them is even possible? I hate to admit that I respect your opinion, and whilst I am neither confirming nor denying if it has happened, I want to hear your thoughts on the matter.”

Erwin sat back in his chair, elbows braced on the sturdy arms and his fingers steepled beneath his chin. His lips pursed. If Levi didn’t know any better, he would say his heart was racing, but he was too far into the starvation process for that to be true. He waited for what seemed like an eternity, fingers gripping tighter into his thighs to prevent himself from spitting and hissing, demanding an answer rather than this painfully prolonged silence.

“Well, my head says it was a foolish story concocted to soothe the newly turned, for those that disliked the idea of constantly taking blood from humans to sustain their existence. One person who was made for them, who could provide everything they needed and potentially be able to turn without it affecting their blood… who wouldn’t want that?”

For a moment, Levi thought that was his final thought, but Erwin surprised him by continuing after more than a beat or two of silence.

“My heart wants it to be true,” Erwin said with a solemn nod of his head. “For one it would mean more power to any vampire lucky enough to meet their blood singer…”

Levi scoffed at Erwin’s words but did not interject further, letting him continue despite the arch of his thick black eyebrow.

“Ultimately, our lives are lonely. We can be surrounded by our own kind, but true connections between vampires are rare and don’t often survive the difficulties that come with that type of relationship. I would be a fool not to want a slice of companionship that didn’t involve an element of wariness.”

Erwin sat forward, fixing Levi with a penetrating stare. “I am not above wanting to find the person destined to be mine and mine alone. Those blessed enough to encounter these… special people, they should not squander that gift.”

Goddammit.

He was right. That realisation grated down Levi’s nerves more than he thought it would. If all of this was correct, he really would be an idiot not to explore it further, but… was it the right thing to do? How would you take this news? Would you even believe him?

The thought that you were his perfect companion, the only person in this world who could sustain him indefinitely, even if turned, and would strengthen him in ways he did not yet comprehend, that was a lot to ask of anyone. A donor’s job was only ever meant to last a few months, maybe a year, but not for the rest of your life.

“I don’t like this,” he admitted quietly.

His hand clenched into a fist atop his lap, eyes concentrating on how the tendons and muscles flexed and shifted beneath his pale skin. “Who am I to condemn anyone’s live like that? No one would want to be tethered to me in such a way.”

“You forget your past lovers,” Erwin interjected calmly. “There was at least one of them who begged you for the chance of immortality. Was that not in an effort to stay with you?”

Levi bristled at the memory, at the ache that still found him all these decades later. “I was merely a means to an end, and you damn well know that. They were far more driven in ambitions than I realised until it was almost too late.”

“In any case, that is by the by. I must insist that you determine if your assumptions are correct. Yes, Levi, I am well aware that you think our newest donor is your blood singer despite the pitifully weak attempts at hiding that fact from me. I am not an idiot. Plus, it seems you might have intrigued Hange by letting it slip in some capacity to the little one.”

“What do you mean?” Levi demanded, his guard coming up in an instant. He did not want Hange poking their annoying nose into this business, they would be insufferable to say the least.

Laughter erupted from Erwin, far too boisterous for Levi’s liking. “Well, did you mention anything about blood singing to our guest? Maybe you didn’t mean to, or you hadn’t realised, but she asked Hange about it on the drive here after your first encounter. I had to pull that little tidbit from them, they were not happy about my means either.”

“I’ll bet,” Levi grumped. He was all too familiar with the exertion of power that Erwin had over him and the others made by his hands. Hange might be a pest at the best of times, but he hoped that the experience had not been too rough, especially given how precarious Erwin’s mood had been of late.

Standing, Levi brushed his palms over his thighs and moved towards the door. The action was mirrored by the much taller man, Erwin intercepting him without much effort.

Suddenly the air shifted. No longer was there a sense of familial warmth, more so it felt like the air had been sucked from the room. Oppressive and thick—the gesture did not go unnoticed.

“Now is not the time to be leaving, Levi.”

“Are you planning on stopping me if I try?” he asked, head cocked in curiosity of how far Erwin was willing to play his hand.

“I would rather not, but if needs must…”

The threat lingered; Levi could feel the first tendrils of power leaking from his sire and knew if push came to shove, he would be forced to bend the knee and remain if that was what was asked of him. He hated that power, that stupid connection that bound him to Erwin like an invisible ball and chain around his ankle. This was part of why he wanted to end it all, or so he tried to convince himself.

“If you were so set on ending your existence, why not have someone behead you or destroy your heart? Levi, I am sorry, but all I have viewed this ridiculous plot of yours is a temper tantrum. You will drink from her. We will find out together if there is any truth behind the old stories. This is not a request. It’s an order.”

The hairs on Levi’s arms and at the back of his neck stood up. Energy pulsed like lapping waves inside the room, they were coming faster and stronger with each ripple. Soon he would be forced to bow to the whims of his sire.

He could count on one hand the number of times this had played out. Erwin meant every word; his conviction would not be swayed. Should he continue to fight against it?

“Why?” he asked, voice hoarse with the effort of producing the single word.

“I have my reasons. Whether I decide to clue you into them will depend on how the next little while goes,” Erwin answered stiffly.

Levi found his gaze straying to the door. Not because he was still trying to leave, he could have shadowstepped if he didn’t know that Erwin would prevent it, but because there were voices on the other side.

Voices he recognised.

His heart lurched in his chest. Golden threads awakening to tighten around the withering organ.

You were coming.

~

“Does it hurt?”

It was amazing how childlike you sounded despite being in your early twenties, almost like it wasn’t your voice at all. Except… it was yours.

Your mother turned a weak smile in your direction, it didn’t reach her eyes—dulled with pain—and you knew the answer would be a lie. Not one borne of bad intention, quite the opposite, but it would be a deceit regardless.

“No, darling. I’m fine, more than fine when my girl is here with me.” She reached for you; her hand was thinner than you had ever known it, the skin near translucent to highlight the veins beneath and the fragile bones.

The comfort you should have felt from taking your mum’s hand didn’t manifest. There was no warmth, only an ice-cold hand wrapped delicately around yours. You worried that if she tried to squeeze your fingers, her bones might snap entirely.

The time was coming. There was nothing you could do to stop it. Doctors had tried and failed. Your mother would die and there wasn’t a single thing in this world you could do to prevent it.

It wasn’t long before the familiar lump settled into your throat, and welling of tears began in your eyes, smudging your vision whilst you tried desperately to blink them away. You could feel the frown creasing between your eyebrows, and the downward tilt of your lips. It didn’t matter how long you had known this would be the outcome; the hurt was still as raw as when the doctor had given his final prognosis.

Slowly, you crumpled over her bed. The bright overheard strip lighting might not be as intense in the private side room than in the main ward, but they still stung your eyes even when you closed them tightly shut.

If only the constant beeping from the monitors would fade away until all you could hear was your own laboured breathing and the soothing hum from your mum as she stroked her fingers through your hair in an effort to console you.

Your father should be here, and his absence only became apparent when three resounding knocks came from the door, with it a chill far greater swept over you until you were convinced you could see the very breath from your mouth.

Something wanted to come in, but it wasn’t time.

There was more to be said, more to be shared. More more more.

“You can’t ignore it forever,” your mum said quietly.

“Watch me.”

She made to tut, but her tongue got stuck behind her teeth and she coughed instead. You could hear the rattle in her chest, the exertion of her lungs working harder than they should have to.

The guilt ate you and another knock chimed like a death knell.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, lowering your head at the same moment her fingers slipped out of your grasp.

Your vision greyed from the outward corners in, and no matter how much you tried to blink and refocus or look around, the result didn’t change. The beeping was getting worse. There were people in the room now. A black shadow loomed from behind you and a scream ripped through your throat until you jolted awake.

Sweat dripped down your neck as you sat bolt upright, blinking and trying to reorient yourself once your heart thundered so furiously you thought it might break through your ribs.

You were in the same parlour room from earlier, where you had spent a fun few hours chatting with Hange and playing card games when they got bored of only telling stories. The walls were decorated in duck egg blue and the armchair you had fallen asleep on was as opulent as you recalled.

How long were you out?

Hange was nowhere to be seen, and suddenly, with dawn comprehension, the idea of sleeping in a room where anyone living or visiting the household could walk right in cooled your blood. You were nothing more than a naïve lamb in a den of lions.

It took you a good while to calm your racing heart and nerves, a good thing too or you might have screamed when the faraway door clicked loudly before opening just enough for Hange’s head to pop through.

Their eyes scanned the room then fell on you, eyebrows rising along with a smile. “You’re finally awake! It’s only been three hours… tired, were we?”

Three hours?!

“Something like that,” you grumbled, cheeks warming.

Hange chuckled and stepped inside to lean on the door. “Not wise to fall asleep anywhere other than your bedroom. Y’know, it locks for a reason. Gotta keep the monsters at bay somehow, right?”

“Oh, hey! I’m only teasing,” they continued when your pallor turned to ash. “No one would dare, not here, I swear it. Erwin would murder anyone that even thinks about hurting you.”

“That’s… comforting?” You mused, unclear if it was comforting or kind of terrifying to know. “I didn’t sleep great last night; I must have dozed off. I blame your lame ass stories.”

Hange scoffed, hands on hips and nostrils flaring.

“My stories are unrivalled, thank you very much! They sure as hell are more honest than anything you’d get out of Levi, that’s for damn certain. He’s such a stick in the mud.” Hange shook her head as if recalling some long distant memory then jerked up straight. “Nevermind that! You’re wanted!”

“I’m what?”

“Wanted,” they repeated as if that clearly explained everything, and they didn’t know why you needed clarity.

“I don’t speak Hange-euse, can you elaborate?”

“You. Are. Wanted. In. Erwin’s. Office. In. Exactly. Thirty. Minutes. Move!” Hange enthused each word carefully, over-enunciating every syllable dramatically. They motioned their hand between you and the door, gesturing for you to get a move on, but for a moment you were frozen.

Erwin wanted to see you again. You weren’t sure why it felt different from any of the other times you had met with him, especially over the past few days, but there was an air of something brewing that you disliked.

That ominous feeling from your dream resurged with gusto. Had it been some weird kind of warning or were you letting your paranoia overwhelm you? Whatever it was, you couldn’t dwell on it, not when you looked like you had been dragged backwards through a garden maze.

“Alright, I’m going. Don’t shove!”

Destiny awaited behind the mahogany door at the other side of the house. Whether it was good or bad…

That was entirely in your hands now.

[fortytworedvines]

25 from the drabble list? :)

Drabble list - send me a number! Thanks for the prompt! 1.2k of angst with a happy ending ahead:

25 - “Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

It was her own fault, Audrey reflected, as the cold bit deeper into her bones. She called Siegfried stubborn, but she was just as stubborn as him. And on this occasion they had butted heads and she, as she so often did, had won. She would allow him victories when they pertained to his work, his practice. Less often when it was people, their home. And she would never let him win when it regarded her own person and her job outside Skeldale.

More fool me, she mused. Should have let him win this one, Audrey. She huddled further into her coat and the scant shelter of the stone wall. Her bike, useless, wheel bent in two, lay next to her. Snow was piling up on everything. And she was so very, very, cold now.

-- “You’re going out?” He’d looked at her sharply when she came downstairs, neat and trig in her ARP uniform.

“I have my rounds.” She settled her helmet on her head and pulled on her thick winter coat.

“Absolutely not, Mrs Hall.” He gestured to the curtained windows. “The weather – it’s going to snow.”

“There’s no sign of it,” she retorted.

“The farmers know,” he said firmly. “You mustn’t go out.”

“I appreciate your concern, Mr Farnon. But I have a job to do.” She buttoned her coat determinedly.

He slipped round her and stood in front of the door. “I won’t let you.”

“Mr Farnon!” She was torn between frustration and laughter as he spread-eagled himself against the door frame. “You’re being ridiculous! Either you stand aside and let me go and do my vital war job, or we can have a brawl and then I will go and do my job.”

“I’d like to see that,” said Tristan from the doorway. “Go on old chap. My money’s on her.”

Audrey rolled her eyes at the lad. His brother glared. Audrey tapped her foot impatiently. “I’m due out, Mr Farnon.”

With a sigh, he subsided. “Go on then,” he said, stepping away from the door. “But please,” he put out a hand to her as she passed him. “Be careful.”

“I’m always careful, Mr Farnon.” She smiled at him and slipped out into the cold night air.

It had started to snow, of course. She’d been on her way back, at least. And it hadn’t been coming down so thickly. But then she’d skidded, lost her balance on a patch of ice. Crashed the bike into the wall and ricked her ankle.

She drew her arms out of the sleeves of her coat and huddled them into her body, pulled her coat over her knees so she was tucked up into a ball. Keep the extremities warm, she thought to herself.

She tried to shuffle her feet to keep them warm, but the pain in her ankle made her gasp. She curled herself even tighter and tried to ignore the cold biting and prickling into her.

Mr Farnon was going to be absolutely infuriating if she got home.

--

The fight between Mrs H and his brother had amused Tristan. He always enjoyed seeing his brother butt up against someone else and Mrs H could hold her own. He hadn’t thought anything about it when she went out on her rounds. Not until Siegfried stood, worried, at the window, tweaked the curtain aside and Tris had seen the flakes swirling down.

Siegfried watched the clock, and Tristan watched him.

“She should be back by now,” Siegfried said. His face was pale.

“She’s only a minute late,” Tris pointed out, always the optimist to his brother’s pessimist.

“Something’s wrong,” Siegfried said. “I can feel it.”

It had been a long time since Tristan had seen his brother so worked up. Worry slid into his own heart. “You really think she’s in trouble?”

“I know so. I’m going to find her.”

Tristan didn’t hesitate. He loved her like he’d loved their mother. “I’m coming with you.”

They took the Rover. “I should have driven her,” Siegfried said. “God, I should have driven her, what was I thinking?”

They knew the route – Audrey had shown them earlier in the year. In the bright summer sun, it had been lovely. Now in the dark and the snow, it had a very different aura.

They drove out of Darrowby, up through the narrow winding lanes. Siegfried grappled with the car while Tristan stared eagerly out, looking for any sign of their errant housekeeper.

Finally, they reached a dip, full of snow. “I can’t go through that,” Siegfried said. “It’ll never make it.” He gritted his teeth. “We carry on on foot.”

They’d put on their winter coats, scarves and hats before they’d left but even with them, Tris was unprepared for the way the wind bit him. For the first time, fear truly gripped him.

“Get moving!” Siegfried shouted.

They scrambled along the stone wall, avoiding the deep snow in the dip, and struck out together. Tristan followed his brother. He found himself irresistibly reminded of the carol – in the bleak midwinter. In his masters steps he trod, indeed! If he hadn’t been so desperately worried, he might have whistled it.

Finally, finally, Siegfried gave a shout. “She’s there!”

They scrambled the final metres and Siegfried fell to his knees next to the cold bundle of their housekeeper. She was huddled over, eyes closed, still.

“She’s not-” Tris couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Breathing,” Siegfried rapped out.

“Thank God.”

Siegfried clambered to his feet then bent and lifted the prone body.

“Let me help,” Tris demanded.

Siegfried shook his head. “I’ve got her.”

Carefully and swiftly, they made their way back to the car.

“You drive,” Siegfried said, as he lifted Mrs Hall into the back seat. He passed Tristan the keys and Tris took them dumbly. “Get a move on, man!”

With cold, shaking fingers, Tris turned the ignition. He glanced into the back seat. His brother had wrapped himself around Mrs Hall and was rubbing her back. He swallowed. Put the car into reverse and sped backwards as fast as he dared until there was a wide spot in the lane. Then he turned and drove like the devil to Skeldale. --

It hurt. Everything hurt. Pain was screaming through her fingers and her toes. But she was somewhere soft, somewhere warm. If it wasn’t for the pain, she’d think she’d died and gone to heaven.

She forced her eyes open. She was in her bed and in the chair by her side was Mr Farnon.

She opened her mouth to speak and managed only a croak.

“You’re awake!”

Never had she seen such relief as she did then in Mr Farnon’s eyes. He dropped to his knees by her bed, found her hand and gripped it tightly.

She stared at him, his dear face, the one she’d thought she’d never see again, when she’d finally lost her battle to stay awake.

“I’m sorry,” she managed. “So sorry.”

He bent his head over their joined hands and pressed his forehead to them. When he finally raised it, there were tears in his eyes. “I thought I’d – we’d lost you.”

“Was – a fool.”

He didn’t disagree. Instead he pressed a kiss to her hand. “Yes,” he said simply.

“Will listen… next time.”

The pain was fading and she was so tired. Her eyes were drifting shut but she knew for certain this time that she would open them again. But one thing remained. “Please – don’t go,” she whispered.

He smiled at her, heartbreakingly tenderly. “Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

[deliciousangelfestival]

Silent Heir, Hidden Dangers - 3

Character: Lawyer!Bucky x Female Character

Summary: She suddenly inherits a fortune from an unknown father, navigating dark secrets with lawyer Bucky Barnes in a suspenseful journey of deception.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , -

Main Masterlist

As Bucky introduced Y/N to Mark, an unsettling tension filled the room. Underneath the mask that obscured his face, Mark raised his voice, frustration evident in his tone. "Why should I care? She never appeared, and suddenly she's the one who got the money?"

Y/N, caught in the crossfire of familial disputes, felt a surge of confusion and anxiety. "That money? I didn't ask for any of this!"

Mark, his emotions boiling over, directed his anger at Bucky. "You damn traitor!”

Maintaining an air of composed detachment, Bucky responded, "This is your father's wish. I'm just carrying out what he asked me to do.”

As Mark clicked his tongue, dismissing the gravity of the situation, he menacingly declared, "This matter will be done in a second." With a swift motion, he aimed the gun at Y/N's head, ready to pull the trigger and end the unfolding chaos.

However, Bucky, ever the cunning strategist, had another trick up his sleeve. With a quick click of a button hidden in his pants, the window, previously shattered and exposed, suddenly closed down, forming an impenetrable barrier. 

It was a modification Bucky had made, revealing a level of preparation that caught Mark off guard.

Seizing the opportunity, Bucky, quick on his feet, threw something at Mark and his partner. The distraction allowed Y/N the chance to free herself from the remaining bindings.

Y/N's eyes widened as she watched Bucky, in a breathtaking display of agility and skill, engage in a fierce battle against two adversaries. 

The room became a blur of swift movements and calculated strikes, with Bucky seamlessly evading and countering the relentless attacks.

His every motion was a testament to years of training, a dance with danger that unfolded with a fluidity that defied the chaos surrounding them. 

Bucky's movements were deliberate, each punch and kick executed with precision, creating a dynamic spectacle that left Y/N both mesmerized and awestruck.

With Mark and his partner subdued and unconscious, Bucky swiftly took control of the situation, grabbing Y/N and efficiently collecting everything of importance in the room. 

As they prepared to make their escape, Y/N, exhausted from the ordeal, stole a weary glance at her step-brother sprawled on the floor.

Noticing her hesitation, he said, "Leave him. He's not our concern right now.”

Together, Bucky and Y/N hurriedly left the compromised "not-so-safe" penthouse. As they navigated the dimly lit corridors, Bucky murmured with a hint of satisfaction, "Luckily, I put that unit into insurance."

Y/N, gritting her teeth in frustration, rolled her eyes at his nonchalant remark. "Insurance? We just got attacked, and you're worried about insurance?"

Bucky, undeterred, replied, "It's not just any insurance. It has some unique perks.”

And he dropped another bombshell. "You have three other siblings."

Y/N, incredulous, halted in her tracks. "What? You should've told me that before all this chaos!"

Bucky, unapologetic, responded, "Would it have changed anything? The less you knew, the safer you were."

Y/N, exasperated, retorted, "Safe? So, the other three want to kill me too?"

Bucky, with a sardonic grin, confirmed, "Oh, for sure.”

Y/N, clicking her tongue in frustration, muttered, "I felt safe already," her words dripping with sarcasm. 

Both of them got into the car and left. The penthouse, now behind them, seemed like a distant memory as the labyrinth of family secrets expanded.

As they navigated the city's shadowy streets, Y/N couldn't shake the burning question. Turning to Bucky, she asked, "My other siblings. Do they have the same mother?"

Bucky, pausing for a moment, finally responded, "Different. You have two brothers and one sister. Each of them has different mothers."

Y/N, incredulous, couldn't contain her surprise. "What? You've gotta be kidding me."

Bucky, chuckling with a hint of irony, explained, "Your father Max was a womanizer.”

Y/N, piecing together the fragmented puzzle of her father's life, couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and understanding. "No wonder why my mother hated him so much.”

Y/N, still grappling with the revelations, muttered, "So, not only do I have to survive attempts on my life, but I also have to navigate through sibling drama. Great.”

Caught in the crossfire of her father's complex legacy, Y/N couldn't help but question the man beside her. "Since you're close with my father, are you the same womanizer like him?"

His mind wandered to the times he had to drag Max out of clubs, deal with irate former flings throwing tantrums because Max never replied to them, and navigate the intricate web of Max's romantic entanglements.

After a moment of contemplative silence, Bucky couldn't suppress a wry smile "Yeah, I guess so."

In the dimly lit room where Mark had awakened, he fumbled with his phone and made a call. "We messed up. She's still alive.”

On the other end, a mysterious figure studied Y/N's documents and photos in the darkness. Mark's voice echoed through the line, "I'm sorry, I failed."

The room plunged into silence before the unseen figure, frustration palpable, stabbed a photo of Y/N and Bucky taken from a traffic camera. "Fine, I'll do it myself.” The person who just spoke is Mason, Max's oldest son.

A mature woman's voice sliced through the quiet, accompanied by the moonlight revealing only the glimmer of a large jade ring on her hand. "Make this right. She's just one person." 

The woman, known as Mrs. Mallory Wolfe, exuded an air of authority that hinted at a deeper connection to the unfolding drama.

Another woman, her voice filled with a seasoned assurance, joined the conversation. "She's alive because Bucky is beside her." 

This was Madeline Wolfe, Max Wolfe's second wife, her calm demeanor masking the complexity of her motives.

In the shadows, another woman with a younger voice, tinged with nervousness, questioned the unfolding events. "Do we really have to do this?" 

The voice belonged to Marianne Wolfe, the youngest stepmother in the enigmatic Wolfe family, a woman caught in the intricacies of loyalty and fear.

Mason, wearing the weight of responsibility, responded with a voice that carried his family's legacy. "Don't worry. I will take care of it."

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3, Chapter 4 ,-

Author Note :

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[estoricwaterlane]

Heart To Heart CHP 2

Heart To Heart CHP1

characters: Bruce Wayne

fandom: DC

pairing: Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader

tags: angst,jealously, breakups,fluff

a/n: hi guys another big break 😭 but i bring treats

You woke up with two texts from Bruce

‘ Hey, do you need me to wire you money for a dress? I know the charity has an image to uphold, and they will not let you in wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and you probably won’t have anything suitable, so if you want, I can send you some money. Let me know, B x

And

'Also, I love you x'

You rolled your eyes, and quickly texted back, saying that you did have a suitable dress, and that he could pick you up at 7:30.

After a long day of working, you got home and changed into something comfortable, and sat down to eat dinner and watch a movie, just as there was a knock on your door.

You groaned, getting up, and opened the door to find Bruce standing there, holding a bouquet of flowers, and a box.

"I thought we were going at 7:30?" You said, stepping aside so he could come in.

"We are." He smiled, closing the door behind him, and walking over to the sofa, "I thought we could spend some time together."

"Right." You said, taking the flowers from him, and walking into the kitchen, looking around for a vase, "So what's in the box?"

"You."

"Huh?"

"It's a present for you." He told you, walking up to you, and hugging you from behind.

"I thought I told you I already had a dress?" You said, prying his hands off you, and turning around, leaning against the counter.

"I know, but I thought, that as you were doing me a favour, that maybe I could do something for you." He said, and lifted the box, placing it in your hands.

"What is it?"

"Open it." He urged.

You rolled your eyes, and took the lid off, gasping when you saw the content inside. It was a diamond necklace, with matching earrings and bracelet.

"I can't take these." You said, and put the lid back on.

"Of course you can."

"Bruce."

"No." He said, putting the lid back off, and grabbing the jewellery out, "You're going to wear them."

"I am not." You said, and pushed past him.

"Yes you are."

"I'll look stupid."

"No, you'll look beautiful." He said, and pulled the necklace around your neck, and fastened it, "Just like always."

"Stop." You said, and pushed his hands away, "This is too much, just cause you're feeling guilty."

"It's not because I'm feeling guilty."

"Sure."

"I love you, and I'm trying to say sorry, but the words don't seem to be working, so I'm showing you."

"And buying me a million dollar necklace is going to make it all better?" You questioned.

"I didn't mean it like that, you're just-" He sighed, and placed the bracelet on the counter, and held up the earrings.

"What am I?" You asked, as he moved behind you, and brushed your hair aside, placing the diamonds in your ears.

"Difficult." He said, kissing the side of your head, and resting his hands on your hips.

"Excuse me?"

"It's the truth."

"If anyone is difficult, it's you."

"How am I difficult?" He laughed, and you turned around.

"Well, first off, you won't let me walk around the city by myself without one of your bodyguards following me."

"It's for your own protection."

"Then there's the fact that you always have to have a say in everything."

"That's not true."

"Really?" You laughed, "I'm not even sure why I agreed to this, I could be in bed, watching a movie right now, instead I'm here, having the same argument, all over again."

“Because you love me, just like I love you. I hate fighting, it makes me feel bad, I know I fucked up, and I'm trying to apologise. And the only way I can do that, is buy you gifts. Because I want to prove to you that I love you, and that I will do whatever it takes, to get you back."

"Bruce."

"I know what I did was wrong, but can you blame me, every woman in there is going to be eyeing me up, and I just, wanted to have someone on my arm, who I know loves me."

You sighed, and looked down, playing with the sleeve of his shirt,

"I do love you." You whispered, "But sometimes, you can be so annoying."

He smiled, and leaned down, kissing you.

"You love me."

"Unfortunately." You smirked.

"Let’s skip that charity banquet, and we can watch a movie."

"And eat junk food?"

"Anything for you."

"Sounds like a plan."