#(silent is also a sort of complicity)

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

text message. l Joel Miller

a/n : a while ago i got a message from anon asking me to write something for joel. i managed to do it today. sorry you had to wait so long. i hope you like it.

warnings : pre-outbreak Joel, some angst, misunderstanding, age difference (about 10 years), suspected pregnancy, argument, Sarah and Tommy mentioned, lots of uncertainty and fear

[Joel Miller masterlist] [my masterlist]

He shouldn't have done that. It was crossing all boundaries, violating your privacy and trust, but he couldn't help himself. When your phone made a series of strange noises that indicated a message had been received and you were in the bathroom at a gas station, Joel reached for it and looked at the screen. A cold chill ran down his spine a second later.

"Two weeks late? Did you take a test? You should see a doctor. What did Joel say?"

A heavy stone landed squarely in his stomach, and he felt his head spin. “Fuck!” he groaned almost silently, shaking his hand as he placed the phone back where you’d left it.

He immediately guessed what you and your friend could have been talking about, he had no doubts. If you were pregnant, that complicated everything.

Joel Miller wasn't entirely sure if he should do it, but when he met you on one of his bar crawls with his younger brother Tommy, he felt like fate had finally favored him. He was almost thirty-six, had a teenage daughter, worked hard, and couldn't remember the last time he'd met a woman. You, on the other hand, were simply beautiful, talkative, with a charming smile on your lips. You were also almost ten years younger than him.

It didn't bother him as much on your first date, or your second, or when you kissed on the couch, or after the first time you had sex. Joel felt younger and happier with you, and everyone around him noticed the change in him.

He fell in love like a stupid teenager, and you didn't make it any easier for him. It was only after a few months that he started to wonder. Maybe dating you wasn't so wise? Maybe you were really too young for him?

When you would visit him at work, bringing him lunch or something, guys would often make fun of him. Joel wasn't as immune to this as he thought. His insecurities grew, and worries about whether he was doing the right thing also grew in his mind too.

And now this. Pregnancy. When Sarah was born, he was too young, and now he felt too old to be playing in diapers. What if you, too, disappeared, like Sarah's mother? Would he be able to cope? What if no woman saw the possibility of a permanent relationship with him, and when the baby came, she simply ran away?

"Hey. Is everything okay?"

He didn't even notice that you had returned and were already sitting next to him. He nodded uncertainly and cleared his throat.

"Yeah. Tommy called, something at the construction site." he lied, quickly starting the engine.

"Do you want to go there?"

"What? No, I don't have to." Joel replied, "Sarah has a game today."

He didn't say anything else the entire ride home, and then to the game you went to with them. He seemed strangely distant, but you were certain he was constantly thinking about work. Even when you suggested ice cream afterward, Joel showed almost no interest.

You dropped Sarah off at a friend's for a sleepover and you were sure that you and Joel would go to his place, but when he suddenly said, "I'll drop you home." You already knew something was wrong.

“Did I do something wrong?” you asked as he pulled the truck up in front of your apartment. Once again, you spent the entire ride in silence, which wasn’t normal.

He shook his head. "No, everything's fine."

“Joel? Look at me, please.” He did it reluctantly, but eventually your eyes met. “You’ve been out of sorts all day. What’s wrong?”

"I've had a lot on my mind lately and..."

"Please, don't lie to me." You interrupted him. You weren't mad, he saw concern on your face. "Did something happen?"

“I…” he began, but the words were hard to get out of his throat. He felt your warm hand on his forearm and it broke him. “Are you pregnant?”

"W-What?" you blurted out, completely surprised.

"I saw, quite by accident, a message from your friend. You're two weeks late. Something about a test and a doctor. I need to know."

You looked at him with slightly parted lips, a small wrinkle appeared between your eyebrows. You couldn't gather your thoughts in your head, but Joel clearly couldn't stop himself from talking.

“I think about it all the time. You’re still young, you have plans,” he said, and you felt every word hit you harder. “I know we should be more careful. This whole thing between us is still new and uncertain. You’re so young, I shouldn’t have… Fuck. I fucked it up.”

"What the hell are you talking about, Miller?" you gasped, completely stunned by his words "What do you mean - too young? I..."

"Look at us. I have a teenage daughter, and you're at the beginning of your career. You can leave this town anytime you want, because there's nothing keeping you here. But what if you're pregnant? That complicates things like hell and..."

"Stop it!" you raised your hand in warning "You're talking nonsense! I knew how old you were from the beginning, I knew about Sarah and it didn't bother me."

Joel rolled his eyes. "Now you say that."

“Oh! And you’re a know-it-all!” you snorted angrily. “So I think it’s safe to say you took advantage of a young and fresh pussy.”

Joel gave you a stern look, but you didn't even blink. You were ready to fight him if he wanted to. You were aware of his fears and insecurities, but you thought that by this point you had already shown him how much you cared about him. Age was just a number to you, and ten years didn't make much difference when you weren't a teenager anymore.

"I never thought of you that way." he replied, clenching his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning slightly white.

"I feel different now." you replied, shrugging. "Because you're acting like you're just looking for an excuse to break up with me. Because you read some message on my phone? Please! That's pathetic!"

“Pathetic?!” Joel raised his voice. How could you be so indifferent to how your life might change? No one in their right mind would decide to have a child so soon. But of course, you were still young, the romantic vision of a family still lingered in your mind, and you didn’t realize how much it would affect you.

Joel wanted to say something else, but you suddenly grabbed your things and got out of the car slamming the door. He quickly got out after you.

"Did you take the test? When are you seeing the doctor?" he asked, catching you before the door.

"Leave me alone." you hissed, ripping your arm out of his grip. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"I think I do."

You looked at him in a way Joel had never experienced before. Your warm gaze turned hard and angry, your mouth a thin line, and your entire body took on a defensive stance. You had never argued like this before.

"Fine." you finally said. "I'll tell you. I have an appointment on Monday. Are you happy?"

"I'll go with you."

“Don’t be ridiculous, this doesn’t concern you at all,” you laughed nervously. “And it definitely doesn’t concern you now.”

Joel looked at you in surprise. So he's already screwed everything up? He's already erased those few really good months?

“I’m not pregnant,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. “My last checkup showed I had ovarian cysts. They caused my periods to be irregular, and now my period is a few weeks late. The doctor said I should see him if that happens.”

"Cysts?" Joel repeated.

"Yes! I didn't tell you anything because I didn't see the need." you replied "I'm not pregnant, Joel. And you... You, fucked up."

You turned around and disappeared through the door before he had a chance to say anything.

Joel had all night to think about what had happened. All night without sleep, when he kept seeing your angry face in his mind, when he kept repeating your words and feeling worse by the moment. He picked up the phone several times to call you, but he kept giving up, terrified you wouldn't pick up.

What would he have done if you hadn't picked up? Would that have meant the end for both of you? He couldn't believe that his own fears and insecurities had led him to attack you so suddenly. He could have done it differently, he could have waited for you to say something. Instead, he had cornered you and forced you to admit to something that was clearly your own personal issue, one that you wanted to resolve on your own.

He knew nothing about women's health issues. When Sarah got her first period, he managed with the help of a nice store employee, and then his daughter took over. For Joel, a missed period meant pregnancy, and that meant panic and everything he had experienced before.

No, he didn't want to make excuses for his behavior. He had screwed up. He felt like you were disappointed in him and he had no idea what to do about it.

It was still early when he showed up at your place. You opened the door, sleepy, with ruffled hair, in one of those oversized t-shirts you slept in.

"Joel?" you mumbled hoarsely, rubbing your face, "Did something happen? Something with Sarah?"

He shook his head. "No. I had to see you. I had to... Fuck." He scratched the back of his neck, nervously shifting from foot to foot, "Can we talk? I, I need to know that I didn't completely fuck this up."

You looked at him for a moment in silence, as if you were considering his words in your head. It was a really long few seconds, but you finally pulled away, allowing Joel to step inside. The apartment was bathed in morning sunlight, and Joel's eyes immediately went to the few framed photos of him and Sarah that you had at your place. Another needle stabbed him in the heart.

"So?" you asked, folding your arms over your chest. "I'm listening."

"I don't know where to start." he mumbled completely sincerely.

"I suggest you start from the beginning."

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm sorry for everything I said. I'm a fucking idiot."

You tilted your head. "Good start."

Joel took a deep breath. He wanted to do it right, he wanted to take advantage of the chance he was given. Maybe it was the last one he had.

"I know now that I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You're the most amazing woman I've ever met, and I still can't believe you chose me. I kept thinking we weren't right for each other, that we were too different."

“Are you still thinking about age?”

He nodded. "Yeah. See, you're young, and I..."

You rolled your eyes and cursed loudly. “If you’re going to give me this age difference bullshit, maybe just leave. Jesus! That’s not twenty or fifty. Joel, I’m an adult, I work, I pay taxes. I get to decide who I’m with?”

“You think so now.”

“I thought so from the beginning! When I met you, the first thing I thought was that you have gorgeous eyes and really broad shoulders. I felt good with you, I liked you, and I think you’re really sexy. It has nothing to do with your age.” You took a deep breath and put your hands on your hips, like you were trying to explain something really obvious. “Sarah is amazing, I love spending time with her. I love you, even though sometimes you drive me crazy, and yesterday you really pissed me off. I didn’t tell you about the doctor because there was nothing to talk about. But if you had any suspicions, you should have come to me instead of getting even more upset. I felt like you were just looking for a reason to break up with me.”

“It’s not like that.” Joel took a step toward you. “When Sarah’s mother left us, I was left to fend for myself. Yes, there was Tommy and my mother to help us, but single parenting is no easy feat. I was certain you would disappear, too. Not only would you leave me with a child, but you would simply conclude that I was somehow flawed, that I wasn’t cut out to be with you. I guess I preferred sabotaging us rather than simply facing my fears.”

You looked at him, trying to understand his words. His face, eyes, and body language told you he wasn't lying. Joel was full of uncertainty and doubt, but you thought you were past that stage. You told him many times that you loved him, you didn't belittle his needs, and you always helped him with Sarah or around the house. And yet he felt all of this?

“I’m trying to understand you, Joel, I really am.” You finally said, sighing softly. “But I can’t be the only one in this relationship fighting for us. I feel like no matter what I say or do, you’ll find a reason why we can’t be together. Do you even love me?”

“Oh, baby,” he groaned, moving closer and taking your face in his hands. “You have no idea how much I love you. And that scares me. I’m always afraid you’ll find all my flaws.”

"You have a lot of them. I do too. But does it matter when we're happy together?"

No, it didn't matter. The fear of losing you showed Joel what really mattered to him. He cared about you more than he could admit. He saw how perfectly you fit into his family, always trying to help everyone and make everyone happy. He didn't think he'd ever feel the same way about anyone again. 

"I'm sorry, baby. I don't know what I could do to fix this." He whispered, you felt tears welling up in your eyes at how much he was going through. "But I don't want to end what we have. I love you, I'm sure of that."

"You think so now." You replied, parroting his words.

He smiled slightly. “I’ve known this for a long time, and I think the knowledge scared me. The fear that you’d disappear and I’d be left alone with this feeling. I don’t want you to disappear. I want to stay, permanently.”

"I want to stay too, Joel. Don't push me away ever again."

"Never again, baby."

He kissed you, softly and tenderly, as if he was afraid he still might. But when you kissed him back, Joel felt an unimaginable sense of relief. He had you in his arms again, all the dark thoughts swirling in his head dissipated and he felt happiness fill him. Your arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you, letting him kiss you like there was no tomorrow.

You could get through this, together. By being more honest, by giving each other a chance at happiness and love, by supporting each other. Joel knew he would do anything to deserve you, and you couldn't imagine not giving him another chance.

“I’ll go to the doctor with you on Monday if you want,” he said as you poured him a fresh cup of coffee and sat down next to him at the table.

“If you want. I could use some support,” you replied, resting your head on his shoulder.

He kissed the top of your head and smiled. He would give you anything, and you never asked for much. You just wanted him to love you, and Joel wanted that too.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being the non-mc significant other of lead guitarist! Sylus.

"The usual?" You have the owner a smile and a nod. "You're late, it's already the four and last set." The pub owner spoke, preparing your drink. "That's because Sylus doesn't know I'm here. It's a surprise." You wink at her.

Imagine engaging on a conversation with the owner, the one you are actually close with given the fact that Sylus and the boys were the one that introduced you to her. She was a lovely lady with a bit of mystery around her. Keeping yourself occupied as you wait for the band to come into the stage.

Imagine preoccupied with your catching up with the owner, you did not notice that they were already on the stage. It wasn't until you heard a familiar strumming of electric guitar that you knew very well who belongs to that made you pause mid sentence and look at the direction of the stage.

Imagine being excited, its been a while since you have seen the boys, let alone your lover perform, having your own lives to begin with, you were quite busy nowadays, so now is the perfect time for a surprise. You even picked up a very unique guitar pick on the way here, designed just for him. He have been complaining about his old ones, ones you are pretty sure he could easily replace, nonetheless it was as if he was giving you some sort of hint.

Imagine the way you look back at the owner, only to see some sort of complicated look on her face. Soon enough you knew why. "Honey, why you calling me so late?" You knew that voice. "It's kinda hard to talk right now." You knew that fucking voice. "Honey, why you crying, is everything okay?" It felt like the world stop, but it didn't. In fact, it continues. Painfully. "I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud"

Imagine, Sylus was never the best singer. There was a reason why he was the lead guitarist and not the vocalist. But the thing is, when he tries, when he tries hard enough. He really singings well. You have heared him, even laugh at him. But of boy did you love him singing. When he sings it was always full of emotion. Like unwritten stories yet to say and unfold. Like hidden feelings waiting to be heard. He only singing when it's important. He only sings for you. Or so you though.

"It's funny that you're calling me tonight." You watch silently, at the side the way he looks in the crowd. Then his eyes soften, "And, yes, I've dreamt of you too." You knew you shouldn't have followed his gaze, you don't want to get hurt nor confirm anything, but you still did. And boy, it fucking hurts. "And does he know you're talking to me? Will it start a fight?" There he was looking at her, MC. "No, I don't think she has a clue."

Imagine, you always wonder why they broke up. They were so perfect for each other. But then again, that was all in the past? Right? You knew Sylus loves you. You knew he does, but you also knew that she was there first. Before you there was her. How could you even compare yourself to her? She was well loved my everyone, heck, even you could tell how much of a lovable person she was. That's why you always wonder, why you? Still, Sylus always made you feel like you were enough. But you aren't really sure anymore.

"Well, my girl's in the next room, sometimes I wish she was you." She laughs, exchanging words with her friend as she sat there in front, eyes never looking away at Sylus. "I guess we never really moved on." Sylus was looking at her softly, he was looking at her with something in his eyes.

Imagine you found yourself back to all those years ago. Amongst the crowd as you watch the two stare at each other. You felt like a bystander as you did all those years ago. "It's really good to hear your voice saying my name, It sounds so sweet" When Sylus sings, it holds a meaning. It means this moment, this very moment is important for him. "Coming from the lips of an angel. Hearing those words, it makes me weak."

"I need to go." You do not know why you felt awfully calm, heart beating wildly at your chest makes you wonder why. "I'm s-" You just raise a hand and smile at her. Funny it felt numb when your heart literally have broken into tiny little pieces. "I'll come back to my tab later." "And I never wanna say goodbye."

Imagine the way you slowly make it out of the pub. Your heart weighting heavily on your chest. Taking every bit of you strength to prevent yourself from crying. Dragging your feet as you walk and took a deep breath to compose yourself. "But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful." You did not look back, you don't want to. And finally, you grab a hold of the door and push it. "With the lips of an angel." And so you were out the door.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: Sana all bakasyon na, sabaysabay tayong mag dusa.

[enjakey]

HYBE-boy

Pairing: Niki x Solo-idol!Fem!Reader

(5k) Definitely the shittiest thing I’ve written but I needed to get it out of my head. I have a habit of starting fics off strong but loosing interest near the end. Gotta fix that. Anyways, enjoy! Also I just copy paste my tags and I’m way too lazy to change it like tags are so annoying and my spelling errors every time are insane.

Summary: you debuted as a solo idol in HYBE not long ago, quickly rising to fame. And soon, you’d started a variety show where many other idols joined as guests. On one episode, a few members of ENHYPEN join you, including Niki. And that, you suppose, is when everything started.

There were rumours being whispered in the halls of the HYBE building- rumours, these days, amongst all the idol groups that had debuted, became common. The staff assumed it was a way of entertainment. With everyone’s schedules being so busy, not being able to interact between groups and time being lost in either practice or sleep, gossip inevitably became the most interesting thing that idols could giggle about. 

It was like high school, really.

You debuted as a solo-artist in HYBE recently. It was a rare event, almost unheard of. But HYBE had been experimenting lately, with their international groups, various concepts for each group and even starting variety shows on Youtube. And when the other idols heard of your debut, a lot of them poured in support. The support was never direct though, as followed by the many rules and regulations placed by the company and staff. The support came through silent nods while passing each other in the hallways, during interviews when asked about the hot new singer and with the occasional like on an Instagram post.

You were young, really, but you weren’t the youngest debut in history or something. There were a lot more idols more capable than you, with a support system from their group member’s that you didn’t have access to. You were alone as a solo-artist and you had only your management and manager to lean on- always following you like a shadow, pointing cameras at you because they needed content to pump out.

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a break.

A few months into your debut, maybe close to a year, your management pitched an idea for a variety show on Youtube. It wasn’t very complicated- it was simple, cute and allowed you to interact with more people personally and that was something you’d been craving for a while. Every week, an idol or two would be invited as a guest. You would interview them for sometime before diving into the main event- they would pick out your outfit for whatever your next big event would be. And you had to wear it, without fail. And the clothes would come from all the brands that you’d signed brand deals with- it was safe to say that, by then, you'd become quite famous and desired by the industry.

Sometimes, the outfits were perfect, fitting to your tastes and the event. Other times, they were deliberately picked out to be embarrassing- and it wasn’t like these idols meant harm, it was all just fun and games. Some people did it out of love, showing the little friendship you shared and others did it just to get a laugh out of it.

But where had these rumours come from, the ones about Y/N that were being spread for the first time since her debut? She’d heard a bunch of rumours before, that some idol was mad at another idol from another group or that someone had stolen something that wasn’t there. But these were… petty rumours, really. Something people could laugh about because they weren’t even true most of the time.

But this rumor? If it reached the ears of tabloids and netizens? It could lead to scandals and idols being cancelled on the internet. And that wasn’t doing anyone’s career good. 

Every idol has had a dating rumour about them at least once. It was something their management would prepare for- disaster control of some sorts. And your manager had once joked about how it was surprising you’d never gotten a dating scandal yet, already so far into your debut.  It was the fact that you were always so shy and meek, so polite with everyone you met, always within boundaries and keeping your eyes to yourself.

Your manager’s joke would come back to bite everyone in the ass.

It started when ENHYPEN’s Niki, Jay and Sunghoon came onto your variety show. 

You’d filmed it on a rainy Thursday afternoon, squeezed between rehearsals and a sponsorship shoot. The energy had been light. Familiar. You’d run into ENHYPEN plenty of times before- award shows, shared green rooms, occasional company dinners- and though you weren’t close, there was a mutual comfort. Enough for laughs. Enough for easy conversation.

You talked about their recent comeback, their tour schedule, and the way the internet never seemed to stop talking about them. Standard questions, standard reactions. You joked about age, how Jay and Sunghoon were basically old men next to you and Niki. You asked about movies, and the answers were chaotic in the way that only idols with too little sleep and too much media training could be.

And then came the main event: the outfit.

Jay and Sunghoon had been on a mission to ruin you- stylistically, at least. Loud prints, absurd layering, glitter where glitter didn’t belong. All in good fun. The kind of bit that played well on camera and made the editors' jobs easier.

But Niki? He surprised everyone.

“No, no,” Niki said, voice firm but light as Jay waved around the feather blazer and Sunghoon insisted on pairing it with glitter boots. “She has a fansigning. Don’t you think she should feel confident?”

Jay blinked at him. “Since when do you care about confidence? Didn’t you make Jungwon wear socks with sandals once?”

“That was different,” Niki replied. “She’s alone. No group to back her up. She needs to own the room.”

The same Niki known for his pranks and deadpan sarcasm stood there calmly, adjusting hangers and suggesting neutral tones, subtle accessories, respectful silhouettes. It was odd. Not uncomfortable- just… unexpected. The usual culprit of chaos, the youngest prankster, was suddenly... sweet? Respectful? Calm?

No one laughed. Because no one quite knew what to make of it.

The management noticed first. Not just yours, others as well. The ones who stood behind the cameras and barely blinked, the ones who didn’t say much but noticed everything. And they didn’t miss the way Niki had looked at you- not flirtatiously, not overtly. Just… differently, focused, controlled; his tone low and even, his words deliberate.

And then, the whispering began.

It wasn’t malicious, at first. Just hallway noise- the kind that filled the space between rehearsals and late-night meal breaks. Idle speculation that came out of boredom more than belief. But it was enough to shift something. A few too many glances exchanged backstage. A few too many questions buried inside jokes.

The rumour was that maybe the youngest of ENHYPEN had taken a liking to you. That maybe something had sparked. That maybe, quietly, the two of you had started… something.

You hadn’t.

You hadn’t even seen him since the filming ended. There had been no texts, no run-ins. Just silence, like every other guest once the cameras stopped rolling.

But it didn’t matter.

The story had already formed. Not outside, not online- yet. But within, inside the walls of the building, passed between stylists and choreographers, echoed in shared elevators and passed notes. It was a story being crafted where there wasn’t one to begin with.

And if it ever left the building? If someone from the inside decided to push it forward?

It wouldn’t just be a rumor anymore. It would be damage control. For you. For him. For everyone in between.

But for now, it was still just noise. High school gossip in expensive clothing. Quiet enough to ignore. Loud enough to linger.

Nothing really changed.

No one treated you differently. No warnings from management. No tense meetings. No cryptic text from your label. The world kept spinning. You went to work. Filmed another pilot. Ate cafeteria tteokbokki with your team and nodded along in meetings where no one really listened. The rumour, whatever it was, stayed tucked behind other, louder things.

You almost forgot about it.

Almost.

Until you ran into Yuna from ITZY in the hallway one evening, both of you ducking out of practice rooms for water, bowing politely at each other. You’d known her a while- similar schedules, adjacent debut timelines. She was a kid, a familiar, older face.

“Hey Y/N,” she said lightly. “Didn’t know you and Niki were close.”

You blinked. “We’re not.”

“Oh.” She blinked back, all wide eyes and casual curiosity. “Oh, it’s just people were saying... never mind.”

She waved it off, already turning toward the self-checkout, but the question stayed with you like static. You barely remembered what you'd bought. You just kept replaying that moment over and over. Didn’t know you and Niki were close. Like it was a fact. Like you were the last person to hear it.

It didn’t mean anything. Not really.

But then came the elevator.

It was a rainy Monday, and you were late. Wet hair, damp hoodie, earbuds half-falling out as you rushed through the HYBE lobby. You hit the elevator button without thinking, checking your phone, trying to remember if you’d missed any rehearsals.

The doors opened.

Niki was already inside. His hair was damp, likely from practice, skin dewy and flushed. He wore a zip-up jacket with the ENHYPEN logo barely visible on the sleeve and headphones dangling around his neck. He blinked at you once, like even he hadn’t expected this timing. Then he nodded, quiet, and stepped in.

The elevator doors sealed shut.

Silence.

You were both good at this. Being quiet. Being still. The kind of stillness that idols learned to perfect in packed rooms, in interviews where every word was potential headline bait. You focused on the glowing numbers overhead. B3. B2. B1.

He pulled out one earbud. “You’ve been busy.”

You shrugged. “Kind of. You too?”

“Yeah.”

More silence. More air between you than the square footage allowed.

Then, he looked over.

“Did someone say something to you?”

You turned, slowly. “What?”

“About me,” he said. “Or... about us.”

Your stomach dropped, just slightly. “Someone mentioned it.”

He nodded like he already knew. “Yuna?”

You exhaled. “Yeah.”

Another beat. The elevator dinged. Floor 6.

Neither of you moved.

Niki leaned in slightly, hands in his pockets. “It’s weird,” he said, voice low. “People talk like they know things. Like eye contact means something.”

You didn’t respond. Because what could you say?

And then, as the doors opened again, he added, “For the record, I haven’t seen you since that episode because of my schedule. Not because of the rumour.”

You didn’t reply, and he didn’t wait for one. He stepped out and the doors started to close. He stared at you, the way your expression shifted at his words- that maybe you weren’t overthinking this. And you stared back, the way his hair fell over his face, the way his lips stretched into something mischievous, that sparkle in his eyes.

But just before the elevator shut completely, he chuckled again. “And maybe I did want you to notice.”

A week had passed. Rehearsals, fansigns, photoshoots- the usual blur of idol life. Everything was routine. But somewhere in between, your mind kept returning to that brief elevator conversation. The way he looked at you, the way his words hung in the air. You tried to push it aside, but it lingered, like an unfinished song.

Today, you were running late again. A tight schedule, another packed day. As you hurried through the halls of HYBE, eyes on the clock, you found yourself almost at the elevator before you realized- Niki was already inside.

The doors were halfway shut when you spotted him. You paused for just a second.

He looked... different. Not in a big way, but enough to make you notice. His usual headphones were absent, and his hoodie was replaced by a simple black jacket. No flashy logos or branding, just the unbothered, effortless cool he seemed to exude.

He looked up when he heard your footsteps. The second your eyes met, something shifted. It was subtle, but it was there- a shift in the air between you, something unspoken, but not unfamiliar.

You stepped forward, the doors now fully open.

"Running late?" Niki asked, his voice casual, but with a certain warmth you couldn’t quite place.

You nodded. "Yeah, it’s been a long day."

He gave a small, understanding smile. "Yeah, same. Can’t catch a break."

For a moment, there was that comfortable, almost too familiar silence. You stood beside him, both of you staring ahead as the elevator descended. The usual routine, except this time... it felt different.

Then, without warning, Niki glanced over. “You know,” he began, his voice quieter now, “I meant what I said the other day. About noticing you.”

Your heart skipped just a little. He said it so nonchalantly, but it was loaded with a kind of intent that made your breath catch in your throat.

You didn’t know how to respond. So you didn’t. Instead, you met his gaze again, searching for something.

Another moment of silence.

He didn’t seem to mind it, though. Instead, his lips curved slightly, and he leaned back against the elevator wall, giving you a relaxed, almost teasing look.

"You seem like you’re always in a hurry," he said after a beat, his eyes narrowing in thought. "Maybe we should slow down sometime. Talk outside of elevators."

The suggestion was casual, light, but there was an undeniable weight to it.

The elevator doors dinged open to the next floor, but neither of you moved.

Niki took a small step back, clearly ready to leave, but before he could turn, he shot you one last look- something warm, something more than just a glance.

"Think about it," he said, voice a little lower now, a little more sincere.

And then, with a nod, he was gone- his footsteps fading down the hallway, leaving you standing there, the air between you still heavy with something unspoken.

You didn’t expect to see him again so soon.

It was another hectic afternoon, and you were grabbing a quick snack before heading to your next rehearsal. As you walked through the cafeteria, scanning the crowded tables for an empty spot, you saw him. Niki, sitting alone, his usual relaxed air about him. He was playing with his phone, earbuds in, but the second he caught sight of you, his eyes lit up, and he lifted a hand in acknowledgment.

“Hey,” he said, his voice casual, but there was an edge to it- an eagerness you hadn’t expected. “You came.”

You hesitated for just a moment. It wasn’t that you’d forgotten about his suggestion, but something about being here, actually sitting across from him, made it all feel more real. You nodded, making your way over to his table.

You sat down slowly, feeling the weight of the moment, like it was one of those rare, unspoken decisions in life that changed things, even if you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

“I didn’t think you’d actually show up,” Niki said, grinning. "But I’m glad you did."

You chuckled softly, adjusting your drink in front of you. “I wasn’t sure myself. But you seemed... serious.”

“I am.” His smile softened, and for a moment, he looked more... himself. The mask of idol life was gone, replaced by the guy who liked to play games, listen to music, and maybe- just maybe- wanted to see you more than as just a colleague.

You both took a few moments to settle into a quiet, but comfortable rhythm. The usual banter started up, but it was different this time- less forced. There was a strange kind of honesty in his words that made you wonder if he was starting to let his guard down, too.

“So,” Niki said, breaking the silence between bites of his food, “what’s the real reason you agreed to come sit with me?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You think I need a reason?”

He shrugged, looking like he was trying to figure you out. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering what you’re thinking. You’re not exactly the type to go for small talk.”

You set your cup down, choosing your words carefully. “Maybe I’m just tired of running into you in elevators.”

His eyes twinkled at that. “So you came here to escape the elevators?”

“Maybe,” you replied, your lips curving into a smile. “Or maybe just to see if you’re as good at talking outside of them.”

His expression shifted for a moment, something unreadable crossing his face. Then, he chuckled softly. “I think you’ll find I’m better in person.”

You didn’t know why, but the way he said it felt... different. As if he wasn’t just making a joke, but giving you a glimpse of something beneath the surface.

Before you could reply, the sound of footsteps approached the table. Neither of you looked up immediately, but you both knew who it was. Someone from the team- probably coming to pull you back into the chaos of schedules and rehearsals.

But as they came closer, Niki glanced at you with a small grin, his eyes lingering for just a moment longer than necessary.

"Next time," he said, standing up as the person reached the table, “we can skip the cafeteria. Just you and me. Somewhere quieter.”

You watched him walk away, his words echoing in your head. You hadn’t expected this meeting to be anything more than casual, but now... you weren’t so sure.

A lot of people on the internet loved speculating about the idol life and you liked reading it as entertainment. There were netizens that were convinced that no way some of the most attractive people in the country are single, obviously they’re all dating, we just don’t know it. You laughed at it because, well… you didn’t exactly know the answer to it. And perhaps it was due to your introversion. 

You didn’t know if some of your friends were dating. And even if they were, it was definitely in secret because if the company found out, they were pretty much dead meat. And you yourself had never really experienced it. No one had ever approached you for a date or for any romantic interest.

Well, that is, not until Niki came along.

Nishimura Riki, he told you to call him that- Riki. Because Niki felt too fake, felt too impersonal. Behind closed doors, even his members called him Riki. 

“Is Niki meant to be a persona?” You’d asked him.

“What do you mean?” He asked with puzzled eyes. 

“Niki as in… the fake ass emo kid. And then there’s Riki with all the embarrassing pictures from pre-debut,” you couldn't help but laugh.

Niki rolled his eyes, hanging head low as he tutted. Then he looked at you, kicking your feet from under the table. “I forget how much you know about me… being a host for your own variety show and all.”

“I saw the interview with DOPE CLUB, by the way,” you continued laughing but Niki was annoyed that he couldn’t see your mouth behind the mask you wore. It was just your eyes he had access to. “The strawberry underwear…” you choked on your laughter.

Niki grinned but you probably couldn’t see. He was wearing a mask too. But the glint in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed. “Keeping tabs on me already, huh?”

And you looked to your side, gaze shying away from him.

This was the third time the pair of you met outside of the HYBE building, disguising yourselves in layers of clothes just to sit in a cafe somewhere and talk. And for the most part, you liked it- you liked the pace, the slowness and steadiness of it all. You liked that both of you knew exactly where this was going but chose to take it a day at a time, anyway. He said it was important for him to know you, and that it was important that you got to know him. 

And you did- for the most part, you did. You learnt about his hopes, his dreams, his worries and everything in between. And in his stories, you learnt more about the rest of his members. But a part of you hoped for more- it was a naive, childish wish. You wanted to be able to see his face, his expressions, his teeth when he smiled or the weight in his brows. But you could only see his eyes which were sometimes covered by his hat or his bangs. It was almost frustrating, that during work, all you could offer each other was a nod of acknowledgement and a glint of yearning and when you were alone, you could barely see him.

But you would never admit that to him. You were too scared, too shy and too wary of the predicament of it all.

Niki, on the other hand, was basking in the light of your company. And perhaps people around him noticed it- well, his members did, at least. They saw the way he’d sneak off to restaurants without telling them (which as unusual because he was always pestering one of them to buy him food), and they saw the way he was on his phone more often than usual, and the saw the way his eyes lit up when Sunoo would play one of your songs in the car.

It was obvious, too obvious. And it wasn’t that his Hyungs were against love… it was just that it was too risky.

“You’ve gotta be careful, Riki,” Jay said to him one night over dinner while everyones chopsticks moved awkwardly, hovering over the topic they all wanted to talk about.

“I am being careful,” he grumbled, hanging his head low and rolling his eyes.

“Do you realise what will happen if you get caught?” Jungwon said, voice almost threatening- he was the leader, afterall. It was his job to keep his members in check.

“This is dangerous. You’re so young… young love can be reckless,” Sunghoon chimed in as though he had all the experience on earth about love.

“Are you sure this is worth it?” Jake continued, pointing his chopsticks at him.

“Guys,” Heeseung sighed, clapping his hand over Niki’s back. “Cut him some slack. If you think about it, he’s really lucky he’s even found someone to feel this way over.”

Niki was surprised by the way his oldest Hyung was defending him- but he didn’t react. He simply fell quiet.

“It’s a bit harsh to say love isn’t worth it,” Sunoo said to Jake. “You’re gonna hurt his feelings.”

“It’s better than getting in trouble,” Jake defended.

And as his Hyungs found their way into an argument, Niki couldn’t help the anger and annoyance that bubbled in him. He knew they were just looking out for him and they knew they were only saying all this because they cared about him. And to be honest, if another member was in the same situation as him, Niki would probably tell them to be careful as well. But most of his Hyungs didn’t care much about feelings- it was always about the rules and logic and the best thing to do. 

It seemed criminal to Niki, to look at you like you were a decision to be made over logic

He simply wanted to follow his heart.

“But I really like her,” he whispered and his voice was almost inaudible, easily drowning in the others’ voices. 

But they all heard him. And the table ceased into silence.

It started with a joke.

A joke about how the two of you were basically spies- cloaked and masked, passing coded messages, scheduling rendezvous in tucked-away cafés and back entrances. You’d laughed about it, brushing the idea off like it wasn’t starting to wear on you. The secrecy was necessary, but exhausting. And somehow, the more time you spent with Niki, the more suffocating the masks felt.

So when he said, half-joking, “Let’s get a hotel room next time. Somewhere we can actually breathe,” you’d rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead- but you didn’t say no.

And that’s how you ended up here, hours later, in a dimly lit hotel room in the quiet part of town- no cameras, no curious eyes, no managers on call. Just you, Niki, and the slow humming silence between you.

You stood by the window first, arms crossed loosely over your chest as the city glowed outside. From this far up, it all looked gentle- like the world had quieted just for the two of you.

Behind you, he was taking off his hoodie, shaking out his hair.

You turned when you heard the soft thud of fabric hitting the floor, and for the first time, you saw him- really saw him. No cap tugged low, no mask, no layers of fabric hiding the sharp lines of his jaw or the soft curve of his mouth.

It was Niki. Just Riki.

And he was beautiful in a way that felt almost fragile in the quiet.

He blinked at you, unsure for a second, like maybe he was waiting for your reaction. You swallowed.

“Seeing you like this feels so different,” you said, voice almost a whisper.

He laughed, low and quiet, rubbing the back of his neck. “Do I look disappointing?”

You shook your head, stepping closer. “You look… like you.”

A beat. Then he looked up at you- really looked- and for a long moment, neither of you said anything. You just stared, like this was a kind of discovery. Like you’d uncovered something sacred.

“Your turn,” he said gently.

You hesitated, then peeled off your cap and tugged the mask down from your face. You suddenly felt bare, like being seen would split you open.

But Niki stepped closer.

He didn’t say anything dramatic or poetic. He just said, softly, “Hi.”

And you smiled. “Hi.”

You didn’t remember who leaned in first- maybe it was him, maybe it was you- but soon your foreheads were pressed together, breath mingling between you. There was no urgency, no rush. Just warmth.

His hand found yours.

“You make me nervous,” he murmured.

You looked up at him. “Why?”

He shrugged, thumb brushing your knuckles. “Because… this feels real. And I’m not used to real things lasting.”

You opened your mouth to respond but couldn’t find the right words. So instead, you stepped forward and hugged him.

He held you back like he’d been waiting to do it forever.

It was the kind of embrace that said everything your mouths were too shy to admit. The kind of closeness that made time stall. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest. 

And then he pulled back just enough to look at you again- and he kissed you.

It was soft at first, really gentle. A question more than a declaration. But when you didn’t pull away, his fingers found the side of your face, and he kissed you again- deeper this time.

It wasn’t just physical. It felt like trust.

Your hands moved on their own- sliding up to his shoulders, burying into the fabric of his shirt. He smiled against your mouth and leaned into you like gravity was tugging him forward.

And then you both started laughing. Quiet, breathless laughter against each other’s mouths.

“This is crazy,” you whispered.

“I know.”

“But I don’t want to stop.”

He looked at you like you’d given him permission to breathe.

“Neither do I.”

“We kissed,” Niki shut the door behind him faster than he’d pushed Jay into his room.

“What?” Jay blinked, struggling to comprehend.

“We kissed- like, solid, made out,” Niki breathed and carded his hands through his hair. Suddenly he couldn’t look at his Hyung anymore, a bit embarrassed. His cheeks turned red.

“You kissed?” Jay blinked again, mouth hanging agape. His thin lips curled into surprise, then disbelief, followed by confusion. “What?”

“We booked out a hotel room-”

“You what?”

Niki immediately regretted the way he phrased it, immediately letting his hands fly in front of him in defense. “No, no, it’s not like that-”

“Do you have absolutely any idea how inappropriate this is Nishimura Riki?” Jay started- and his scolding didn’t stop. He pointed his finger at Niki in a warning- he was actually scary this time. “Do you have any idea what will happen if the management finds out? Fuck that, when your parents find out this siw ho you’ve become, booking out hotel rooms for girls, they’re gonna whoop your ass-”

“It’s not like that!” Niki yelled, almost whined. “I’m not taking advantage of her here- I’m being serious, Hyung. I really like this girl.”

At that, Jay closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a ragged breath. “What’s your plan, Niki?”

Niki’s eyes lit up, hope building in his chest. Because, even if it was one Hyung, it meant there was some sort of support he was receiving right? And perhaps Jay could convince the rest of the members to help him out- take pity on him, the youngest, to maybe get the girl and keep her in secret.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I’m gonna do everything in my power to make this work.”

“Alright,” Jay sighed again.

Just then, Jake entered the room, unbeknownst to the conversation happening. He was holding a sweater in his hand, one that belonged to Niki. “You left this in my room- oh,” he looked between the two, wide eyed and surprised. “Am I disturbing something?”

Niki shook his head violently. “No-”

“It’s about Y/N, don’t worry,” Jay rolled his eyes. 

Niki groaned.

Jake’s eyes widened further. “What now?”

“They kissed,” Jay said.

“Hyung-”

“And he’s whipped.”

Jake chuckled. “You’re sure about this?” He asked, gaze fixed on Niki. Jake Hyung was usually the funny one, always light hearted but he had his moments where he took charge- made the decisions, weighed the pros and cons.

“Yes,” Niki raised his chin firmly.

“Alright.”

“Guess what?” Niki came running to you in excitement, finally catching sight of you near the cafe you agreed to visit. 

You google at his enthusiasm. “What?”

“I told my members.”

You froze, staring at the boy in front of you- the boy who was towering over you, bending his neck to hear you better, a smile spread behind his mask. “What?”

“I told them,” he said. “About us.”

You blinked. “What… what did they say?”

“A lot,” Niki nodded. “All their MBTI is type T except for Sunoo Hyung. They were all scared and concerned-”

“Very valid.”

“But I want you, Y/N,” he sighed, almost like it was prayer. “I want this- I think… I think this- you and I- it means something bigger.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

[brittle-doughie]

I need to see the reactions of the 5 Beasts about Corrupted Benign Butter Cookie because I just Love the design please I'm on my knees 🛐

I know, @/kokohiki is TOP TIER for their work on handling a corrupted Benign Butter (or Y/N Cookie). I can’t thank them enough!

Eternign may be a little complicated, since Eternal Sugar is too lazy to remember that Benign Butter HATES anything to do with love, being the virtue of Scorn now. So when expressing any sort of it verbally, she’s seconds from getting crumbled! Doesn’t stop her from doing it again though.

BenignSalt is on more friendly terms, simply because Silent Salt…is silent! So there’s no words of love that Salt can say that would annoy Butter, which is win in both of their books. Silent Salt does have no choice but to admire from afar, for a broken heart can also be a volatile one.

Beniflour is a little MORE complicated. Mystic Flour can see into Benign Butter’s soul and saw that they’re a troubled soul, for their heart had been broken little by little by the Cookies that left them behind. Their own Cookies causing this pain….In a way…she can relate to that pain, but while she was apathetic in the end, Butter only grew more…hateful at the concept of loving others. Mystic Flour sometimes wonders…if it was possible to even hold their hand like the old days…

ButterMilk is interesting, Shadow Milk will take the time out his grand speeches and stage plays to praise Benign Butter, kind of lowkey wishing that they’d completely destroy HIM instead, much to his weirded out friends. Benign finds it…intriguing that Shadow Milk wants to be at Benign’s mercy so bad. They’ll do a little tease here and there, but always keeps managing to string him along~

BurniButter has Shadow Milk’s only obstacle in his efforts to impress Benign Butter, and that’s Burning Spice Cookie. Seeing Benign’s utter hatred for love and the destructive lengths they’ll go to destroy the ones responsible for their anguish has gotten Spice’s jam boiling. He relishes the day that he can get a fight out of Benign Butter that will also be a confession of his fiery feelings towards them that will surely anger Butter. The perfect moment.

[impval]

cinnamon in my teeth pt.2

CaitVi  x fem!reader

You were so used to coming home to an empty, silent house. No parents, no friends, no one to greet you after your shifts at work. Just the soft, solitary hush of an empty house.

The silence sat heavy on your shoulders - that feeling of being alone, and isolated.

You'd spend hours sitting quietly, lost in your head.

You'd go hours without speaking a word to anyone, the only company you had being the sound of your own heartbeat and the voices inside your head.

Life was quiet. Lonely.

But now… now the house was full of sound. Of warmth and laughter and love.

You'd come home to the sound of arguments, of giggles and laughter, of two women who loved you very dearly. You'd be met with smiles instead of loneliness, and you'd be greeted with warm kisses before even finished saying hello.

The silence was still there sometimes, but it was different. Softer. It was a comfort to walk into the house and still feel the presence of your girlfriends, even when they weren't there. Their clothes, their accessories, their distinct scents.

They didn't always come home together, unfortunately. Their jobs often left them both late at night, either one getting home before the other, sometimes both being late. Caitlyn was a workaholic, so often she'd be at her desk well beyond the hours most normal people would consider reasonable.

Caitlyn was an incredibly dedicated person, and while you knew work was important to her, both you and Vi were always happy that she tried to make time for you.

There were times when it was hard, though. When she'd come home in the late hour, looking tired and worn out and stressed. When she'd spend long hours hunched over paperwork, and you'd find her in the middle of the night, still not done.

But overall, it wasn't too bad. You appreciated that she was willing to put work aside for you and Vi.

You can never get excited for Fridays. You love that the end of the week brings a break from work, but at the same time, that Friday energy always seems to bring all the idiots with it. Meetings, last minute reports, and unexpected calls from clients who need their paperwork signed by the end of the week.

You let out a soft sigh, dropping your pen down on the desk. Your back popped as you finally straightened your spine, feeling the knots of pain in your shoulders unknotting.

Your eyes roamed over the rest of the office, eyeing out your coworkers. Just like you, they all had that shrimp-like slouch, slumped over their desks.

Office life was slowly destroying your back.

Your eyes narrowed as you spotted your boss, standing across the office with a cup of tea and another coworker. Your boss is an absolute ass - a massive jerk who thinks that just because you're the younger, he can push every last responsibility onto your shoulders.

But he'd been much quieter lately and seemed to be avoiding you like you had a deadly disease, passing on work to others instead of giving it directly to you. It was a strange change.

And there was something about the glitter on his neck that was familiar… pink and blue, he tried covered it with a scarf but you noticed. The glitter dusted across his skin, plus the hint of a limp he now had, and the fact that someone had spent an entire day cleaning the graffiti from the his office...

You finish the last of the coffee in your mug, unable to help a small smile lifting your mouth.

Caitlyn and Vi hadn't promised to stay out of it, but Jinx… Jinx didn't make such promise.

Jinx was Vi's younger sister, and the relationship between the sisters was… complicated, to say the least. At least they weren't currently fighting, but it was only a matter of time.

She was insane, that was for sure. But you also kind of liked Jinx… when she wasn't kidnapping you or trying to burn down the city, that is. Despite her occasional kidnappings and pranks, Jinx did sort of treat you differently than anyone else. You couldn't quite pin down why.

You were normal. A civilian, no history of violence, no blood on your hands, an average person. Perhaps it was just because you were normal.

It had been an odd encounter when Jinx kidnapped you for first time, but the first thing you'd said to her? "I like your hair."

The clock on the wall finally reached the end of the work day, marking the end of your shift.

You stood from your seat, stretching your stiff back, letting a sigh out of your lips. Your boss looked nervous as you smiled at him, walking past.

The evening air was cool, sending a chill down your spine. With a sigh you tightened your jacket around your shoulders, searching for any sign of Vi.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands fall over your eyes, and a familiar voice spoke behind you.

"Guess who?"

Vi leaned her face close to your ear, her smile widening as she heard your comment, her breath warm. You could feel a smile tug at your lips, the familiar scent and warmth of your girlfriend's presence bringing you comfort. The feel of her body next to you was as natural and comforting as breathing.

"A bit predictable, don't you think?" you smirked, a slight hint of sarcasm in your tone.

"Maybe. But it gets you every time."

She moved her hands away from your eyes and instead wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The kiss was light and gentle, and you could feel the blush quickly take over your cheeks.

Vi's hair was a bit dirty, a mess of tangled locks, yet somehow it still looked as cool as ever. There was a slight smudge of dirt across her cheek, probably from some sort of grease, and you reached up to wipe it away.

Vi's arm wrapped around your waist as you took slow strides towards your house, your pace relaxed in the cool evening air. The walk wasn't far, only ten minutes from the office.

You still couldn't believe it sometimes, living in a mansion now, a far cry from your small apartment, and you had two girlfriends. Life was weird.

"How was your day?" Vi said softly.

You loved your job for the most part. Yeah, it had endless paperwork and tedious reports, but it paid the bills, and the people you worked with were nice and helpful.

Vi didn't always fully understand what you said, but that never stopped her from paying attention and trying to grasp the concepts. It was one of the things you loved most about her - her unwavering attention and curiosity.

The walk home was filled with you discussing work and venting to Vi, who listened and asked questions in the right spots. She nodded along, making noises of understanding to let you know that she was following along.

The lights of mansion glowed warmly in the windows as you and Vi approached, letting you know that Caitlyn was home. Perfect, since that meant she was probably already cooking dinner.

Vi didn't quite know how to cook, although Caitlyn and you was more than happy to help her. You usually took the lead in the kitchen, but you'd grown tired of it recently, and you couldn't deny the appeal of Caitlyn handling all the cooking.

You and Vi exchanged a knowing look, both of you thinking the same thing. Caitlyn's cooking was that good.

The moment you stepped into the house, the scent of freshly-cooked meat immediately hit your nostrils, your mouth watering at the thought of a proper meal after a day filled only with snacks.

Both you and Vi walk into the kitchen, finding Caitlyn standing by the stove. She looks adorable in the little apron she’s wearing, and you can tell she's a little tired - her forehead is creased with a worried little crease, and her messy hair is pushed back into a bun.

The moment you enter, she turns to you both, a warm smile on her full lips.

"You're home!" Caitlyn exclaims with a pleased sigh.

You watch as Caitlyn leans over to give Vi a swift, affectionate kiss. Vi leans into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Caitlyn waist in a tight little pull.

"I missed you," she murmurs.

It was true that a lot of people didn't understand how three women could be in a relationship with each other. So many people tried to insist it was some sort of twisted experiment - that someone had to be left out, or that everyone was secretly miserable.

You had heard the questions - Don't you feel lonely? Don't you get jealous? - and you usually had just shrugged them off with a wry smile. After all, you were dating both the two most beautiful women in existence.

Jealousy? Loneliness? You feel neither.

Caitlyn then turns her attention to you, her expression softening.

"And I missed you too," she adds, her hand coming up to gently caress your cheek. "Did you have a good day, sweetheart?"

"It was..work as usual." You can't help smiling. It's such a stupid, lovesick, soft expression - like lovestruck puppy.

But you don't care at all.

Caitlyn smiles back, the corners of her eyes crinkling faintly.

"You're all happy like an idiots," Vi teases, an amused scoff in her voice. Her arms are still wrapped around Caitlyn's waist.

"Just work, huh?"

Caitlyn raises a curious eyebrow, her eyes watching you closely. A flicker of something - something you can't quite decipher - crosses over her face. There was something in her expression, like she was expecting a certain answer from you.

Well, someone had to set Jinx on your boss, right? Well, Caitlyn promised not to hurt your boss. Smart decision and no broken promises.

She nod regardless, and simply says, "Dinner's just about ready, so you might want to go wash up before you eat."

"Ugh," Vi groans, her grip growing tight on Caitlyn, as if it's to hold her in place.

Caitlyn simply rolls her eyes and gently bats Vi's hands away from her. "Go," she says, her voice firm. "You can't eat if your hands are all dirty."

You take Vi's hand and start to pull her towards the bathroom, leading her away from Caitlyn.

Vi gives one last, half-hearted protest, but she lets you pull her away without too much fuss. She follows you to the bathroom, and you start to wash at the sink.

It's so stupid how cute Vi can be when she's pouting like this. She's always been so used to getting her own way that she acts like a whiny five-year-old sometimes. It's both adorable and incredibly annoying at once.

You all sit at the table, and Vi is already shoveling food into her mouth like a greedy puppy. She's completely ungraceful, taking large, messy bites.

Caitlyn, on the other hand, is incredibly slow, savoring every bite of her food. She's a woman raised with manners and discipline, after all.

Christmas was on its way, and you now had a beautiful tree in the living room. Vi has never, ever been able to celebrate Christmas properly. Now she was going through all the effort to make her first Christmas "proper," and it was adorable how enthusiastic she was about it.

She was practically vibrating with excitement when you all first got the Christmas tree out. Her eyes lit up so brightly as she excitedly babbled about how much she was looking forward to decorating the tree together.

You all chat. The snow is falling outside, slowly blanketing your home in a layer of white, soft snow that creates a sense of comfort. Vi is so excited that you can't help but laugh at the fact that she didn't even notice the mess she's made of her own face.

Caitlyn has to wipe away some of the sauce from Vi's face, muttering about how she's a mess - but there's an affectionate, amused smile on her face.

You remember the days of instant ramen in a bowl and a quiet, empty apartment - you were always alone. The difference now is incredible, the change in lifestyle so immense that it still feels a little like a dream sometimes.

Christmas has always been a bit of a mixed bag for Caitlyn - she didn't hate it by any means, but there was always a lot of pressure for her to be on her very best behavior.

She would have had to arrange an event for the entire Kiramman family, which meant she would have had to talk to an awful lot of people who she absolutely did not like.

You're aware of this, and you'd make sure that she'd never have to go through it again. So you'd insisted that both of your girlfriends spend Christmas with you - no formality, just three girlfriends together in a happy home. You wanted it to be a peaceful holiday, without the usual stress.

As you pick up the dirty dishes, Vi cracks her knuckles and stretches before heading upstairs to take a shower. You know she'll be waiting in bed for you and Caitlyn later.

Caitlyn follows you, her hands at her sides, looking at you as you start washing the dishes. She watches you for a moment, studying you quietly.

Caitlyn has never been fond of people doing chores in her home. She'd rather do it herself, even though it was never necessary. She'd grown up in a house with servants, and she always hated it - it left her feeling like an outsider in her own home.

There is a time you remember when her gaze scared you. The weight of her stare was almost uncomfortable. She was so strong, so smart, so intimidating. Now you cherish that gaze. Now you love it when she stares at you.

"You know, my boss has been incredibly quiet lately," you say, breaking the silence with a saccharine-sweet voice.

Caitlyn's eyes narrow at your comment, a small frown marring her perfect face. She knew you knew.

Somehow, Caitlyn had convinced Jinx to... prank your boss. You knew Jinx wouldn't have thought to do it on her own - she was currently too busy with Zaun politics to really care about your problems. You hadn't seen her in months.

"He was?" she says, her tone as calm as your own. "I wonder why."

You finish washing the last dish in the sink, and turn off the water.

Caitlyn gives you a towel, and you quickly start to dry your hands. There's something you want to say, but you can't outmaneuver Caitlyn - she grew up with all these little games, and you, for all your effort, can never really match her.

No games, then.

"Jinx? Caitlyn, honey, just how?"

Caitlyn snorts, her head tilting to one side as she pushes some hair out of her face.

"How do you know it's me?" she asks, pretending to be unperturbed by your accusations. "Maybe it was Vi."

You roll your eyes, so hard it almost hurts.

There's no way it was Vi. She never would've thought up something like this on her own - and she would never be able to talk to Jinx without a fight. Those sisters are hopeless, two bickering children. You honestly wish they'd just get therapy or something.

Caitlyn laughs at your reaction, the sound soft and amused. She pulls you closer, wrapping her hands around your waist. She smells of spice and food - but there's that lingering scent of gunpowder there, that was just a part of her now. Always lingering like some sort of phantom.

"It helped that she likes you," she said, voice laced with amusement. She knew Jinx had a soft spot for you, and she'd have used that to her advantage. "And she likes to cause chaos, and i showed her the right direction."

Right. Well, you definitely won't tell Vi about this.

You nuzzle your face into Caitlyn's neck, just like a affectionate cat.

"I should've handled this myself." You murmur against her skin, your voice a little annoyed. You're not sorry for the man getting what he had coming - the jerk deserved it.

Caitlyn lets out a small sigh, your statement coming as no surprise to her. "I know," she murmurs, her voice soft and gentle.

Your girlfriend knew about your insecurities all too well. She could see the way you eyed Vi and her, the way you'd always compare yourself to the two of them. Just a regular person - you worked in an office job and had never stepped foot in combat. Nothing really special.

Caitlyn was particularly attuned to your feelings - she'd known you long enough now to be able to tell when you were feeling especially down on yourself. You were so much more to her than "nothing special."

Because you were a remarkable person. You should have more confidence, and know that you were worthy, special, and desirable in your own way.

She murmurs apology as you nuzzle against her, and you feel her gently running her fingers through your hair. "You know I hate that man for treating you the way he does," she murmurs, her voice soft and caring.

You and Caitlyn press each other close, clinging together. You both know that you can't stay like that for too much longer - Vi probably already waiting in the bedroom for you both, and she's not exactly the most patient person in the world.

Caitlyn presses a soft, final kiss to your forehead, before slowly detaching herself from your embrace.

"We should go to bed," she mumbles. "I'll probably get chewed out if we keep Vi waiting."

Caitlyn leads you up to the bedroom, a soft look in her eyes as you try to stay awake.

A yawn escapes you, and you cover it with your hand. Not only were you glad you didn't have to go anywhere tomorrow, but you were incredibly happy to get to just curl up in bed all morning, with both of your girlfriends still asleep beside you.

You loved those quiet moments. The stolen glances, the walks through the city, the soft touches and easy banter. It just felt so good, so right.

Yes. Life was good.

[leyavo]

| I am my father’s daughter | 4 |

💖 Dad!Price & Daughter!reader, eventual Soap x reader

PART FOUR: John Price hasn’t seen or heard from his daughter in over a year, but that changes when she calls him one night asking for help. 2,565words

[18+] MDNI | TW: hurt/angst/mentions of abuse/ complicated father-daughter relationship

Previous parts > [Series Masterlist]

🔈Reader’s view of John is different, he’s come and gone in her life etc so she thinks he’s not that great. So don’t send me hate

You learnt from a young age to stay silent when it came to the adults in your life. Made it easier to get the talk over with. Less words to get you in trouble, something you always tried to dodge.

Silence, your best friend. The one thing that kept you company most days. You stared at your dad, arms folded over your chest as you leant back on the stiff wooden chair. Not quite tucked in under the table, slightly angled in case you needed to make a quick exit.

The shiny new phone on the varnished surface, some sort of peace offering or something to be held over you, another thing for you to figure out.

The Captain however, he wasn’t as easy to read and that added to the weight on your chest. You weren’t sure on the limits, what he’d allow or how he’d deal with something he didn’t like.

You cleared your throat, gaze flitting to his across the table. “So, I can probably find a place in like a couple days or so, a week tops you know,” you said rambling on about a friend of a friend who lived close by.

Not a total lie, you’d slept on your mates sofa’s here and there as a teen when things went south before. You’re sure you can pick up some bar work to help you out till you find something more permanent.

The Captain shook his head. “Stay as long as you need, kiddo. Anything you need your old man’s ‘ere.”

As long as you need, another open ended thing for you to figure out. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome or get too close to him. Didn’t want to rely on your dad, knowing that he’ll come and go as he pleased. Blame it on the job, send you a message to check in and rid himself of the guilt.

“You know, it’s not just us living here,” he said, interrupting the constant thoughts rattling in your head. You know the little voice that’s always second guessing other people’s actions and trying to decipher the true meaning of their words and actions.

Oh shit, you didn’t even think of his team living in the same house. They’d given you and the captain space since you’d got here. You’re hoping you won’t be there for long, even if you have to stay at a shitty hotel until you get enough money to put down on a flat to rent.

“I’ll stay out of the way, no problem.”

Out of sight, out of mind. Least he wasn’t taking you to his house with your brother and stepmother.

“Nah kiddo, this is just as much your space now,” he said, his brows scrunching together as his eyes roamed your face. Like he was also trying to figure you too. “There are some rules though.”

“Rules?” You echoed back at him. You weren’t so good with rules, they normally came with expectations and punishments when they were broken.

Not that you’d be breaking them, willingly anyways. You didn’t want to think of the outcome if you did either.

“We’ll be in and out of the house, no set routine. All you gotta do is look after yourself kiddo, we eat mostly in the canteen as it’s convenient. So you’ll probably be having your meals alone, help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge, but add to the list on the front if you run out of stuff,” he said, sliding a notepad in front of him. The scratch of his pen jotting down numbers and words.

You nodded, “sure that’s okay.” You’d been fending for yourself for years, knew how to make the most of the basics or go without. Skipping a meal a day wasn’t a big deal for you. You could survive on just one if you needed to. You wondered if they kept track of the food or if they labelled their own food. There wasn’t any locks on the kitchen cabinets, so it looked like it wasn’t too strict.

“Now, you’re on base. So you won’t be able to walk anywhere and everywhere. There’s a map here,” he mumbled, pointing to an unfolded leaflet. He placed it in front of you and started to circle some areas, blue ink tracing the paths and road. “All the places I’ve highlighted you can go. Do not, I repeat do not go anywhere else.” His voice lowering as he got to the last sentence, gaze flicking up to yours. He jabbed the tip of the pen in your direction, brows raising as if daring you to argue about it.

The look of someone you did not want to piss off. You glanced back to the untouched areas, half of them with no labels or names.

“Uh, yes sir. I won’t go there.”

He doesn’t question the formal sir you’ve thrown his way, the line between his brows softening and eyes relaxing from their narrowed gaze.

“You got any idea what type of work you’re looking for?”

You shook your head. There wasn’t much you could do, a few different jobs here and there. You’d take anything at this rate, you weren’t picky. Money was money at the end of the day.

“Alright, I know someone hiring,” he said, raising his hand to stop you interrupting him. “Three days a week, entering data into a computer. Gotta interview kiddo, nothing comes for free.” He ripped off a piece of paper from his notepad, pushing it to you. A number and name, along with a date of the interview.

The ever prepared Captain already scheduled you an interview. Part of you wondering if he’d planned the rest of your time here.

Boring work, but you didn’t have the luxury to care. You needed to find something as fast as you could.

“It’s not working here is it?” You asked, trying not to offend him.

The Captain chuckled, “nah kiddo. A fifteen minute drive. If you get the job, I’ll sort the insurance on the truck and you can borrow it for now till you find your feet.”

It’s been years since you’ve seen him smile, the curve of his lips making him seem younger. Like the dad who used to ruffle your hair and put you over his shoulder when you were six. The years seemed to harden your parents, your mother’s snapping tone still sent a shiver down your spine. Your father’s stern face, lines in the corners of his eyes and the centre of his forehead painting him serious most of the time.

“What about rent?”

Nothing comes for free, his own words repeating in your mind. You wonder what else you’ll have to earn whilst you’re staying with him.

“Keep ya’ money,” he grumbled, his chair scraping back as he stood up. He walked over to the fridge, pinning a piece of paper under a magnet. His finger jabbing the scribbled mess. “If you need to reach me, this is my office number. Mobile first, office is last resort.”

“And mum?” You dared to ask, still expecting her to appear with each waking day. Least you'd hear her before you actually saw her.

“We’ll talk about it another day. Rest up and look after yourself. You still need to take it easy.”

You nodded, releasing a deep breath. The weight on your chest lifting, the tension loosening from your shoulders.

The Captain turned his back from you, flicking the kettle on. You rose from the chair, tucking it back under the table. He handed you a steaming cup of tea and you settled down into the sofa, placing the cup on the coffee table.

A kiss landed on the crown of your head, "gotta go back to the office, you know what to do if you need anything."

You didn't get a chance to react, the front door closed before you could catch a glimpse of your father.

Sleep had been fleeting the past week, as soon as your cheek hit the pillow on the couch you were out. You were never much of a heavy sleeper, but the rough weight on your forehead soothed the heat and sweat coating it, that you didn’t question it. The cool touch easing your faltering breaths.

You shifted, the cushion wedged behind your back brushed against the wound near your shoulder blade, a groan slipping from your lips. The hushed tones of someone shushing you and the hair sweeping behind your ear, however, sent alarm bells ringing. You shot up, head crashing into the nearest thing.

Johnny Mactavish stumbling back with a grunt. He cradled his jaw, a string of curse words falling from his lips.

"Fuckin' hell, Johnny," you snapped, clutching your forehead and scrambling to sit up. "Why are you breathing over me?" You traced the stitches above your brow, lowering a trembling finger tip expecting blood, but there was none.

Your heart drummed against your chest, the shirt you wore drenched in sweat and sticking to the dip between your breasts. Your fingers pinched the fabric, allowing the excess to swallow your figure once again.

The crick in your neck stopped you from turning your face quickly to the man in front of you.

Johnny rubbed his chin, red tinge marring his jawline. "Thought you'd passed out again, checking for your breath lass." He sat on the edge of the coffee table, wood groaning under his weight.

The distressed denim jeans hugged his thick thighs, baggy t-shirt skimming over a leather belt. Sergeant written across his firm chest. Your gaze wandered to the short sleeves and the way they curled around his biceps. A few nicks and scrapes dotted his bare arms, fading green bruise on his knuckles.

He reached out and you dodged his hand, trying to sink further into the sofa. Wanting it to swallow you up, anything to go unnoticed.

“You’re hot.”

It took you a second to register what he'd said.

“I’m what?” You stuttered, trying to pull the thin blanket over your shoulders as you slid down in your seat. God, he was so hot. Different to your ex, something untouchable about Johnny too though.

A deep chuckle shook his chest, his head cocking to side. Smile stretching his lips as if he noticed your stare. “Yeah, your head. Fever maybe?” He mumbled, leaning forward and placing the back of his hand on your forehead for a few seconds.

Of course, he wasn't looking at you like that. You don't even know why your mind went there either. Must be the fever messing with you.

You blinked, not sure of why he was checking you over again. If you’ve got a fever you’ll be taking a bath right? Or just riding it out? You weren’t quite sure. Did the Captain put him up to this?

It was the first time taking medication like this, normally you took paracetamol and hoped for the best.

Johnny’s touch is light, brief as he pulled away and clasped his hands in between his legs. “Did ya’ miss your meds?” He glanced over his shoulder, the ridiculously large clock ticking away.

“I fell asleep.” You shrugged, “I’ll just take them in a bit.” It’d been four hours since you’d settled on the sofa and three hours ago you were supposed to take two pills.

“You gotta take them at the specific times,” Johnny said, popping the pills out of their packaging and into your palm. He walked to the kitchen, returning with a large glass of water.

Sipping the water and throwing back your medication, you went to place it on the table, but he shook his head.

“Drink all of that, will help with that fever,” he said, sinking into the sofa beside you. The cushion dipped beside you and found your body leaning to his. "Might wanna, take that blanket off too." He snatched the blanket from your lap, balling it up and tossing it on the armchair beside him.

You drank half, gaze locked on his as you placed the glass on the coffee table. Wondering if he’d tell you to drink more, but he picked up the remote, flicking through the tv guide.

“Captain got you babysitting?” You checked your phone, a chain of texts from your father and an alarm notification you slept through that alerted you of the time and the meds you needed to take. forty-six missed calls and twelve voice messages, your ex's name lit up the screen as you turned it over on the table.

Johnny slouched against the back of the sofa, legs widening. Your knee brushing against the side of his denim clad thigh. His hand resting ever so close to yours on his own leg.

“Nah, watching the rugby.” He pointed to the tv with the remote, the match three minutes in already. There’s a bottle of beer in his other hand, the same one your ex liked.

The one you used to stare at in the shop, wondering if this pack would go in your favour or go against you.

Johnny seemed pretty calm though, you don’t know him well so the beer in his hand doesn’t help you feel any better. People are totally different after consuming stuff like that.

“You like the rugby?”Johnny said, his deep voice pulling you out of your head. He sucked in a breath as the players tackled each other for the ball.

You shook your head, “I hate sports.” You can't think of anything worse, a group of men shouting and hollering at a match. The spike of violence when their teams didn't win, all because of a game. You tried to keep away from all that.

The bottle doesn't touch his lips, a chuckle shaking his shoulders. "Yeah my sisters hated it whenever I watched the rugby." A smile playing on his lips, his fingers picking at the label on his beer bottle.

"You've got sisters?" It doesn't surprise you. He's respectful towards the women on base, well from what you've seen so far.

"Yeah, three of them. Don't know what's worse, three of them or that they're older."

You wonder how different your life would have been if you had siblings, someone else around your age to take the load off of you. Another person who could relate to everything, someone you could talk to without judgement.

Johnny rambled on about his siblings, telling you little bits of pieces of his childhood. The more he said, the more you felt like you'd missed out on a lot. You nodded along, lying when he'd asked you if you were close with your mum. The instinct to paint everything good still ingrained in your being.

The phone in front of you vibrated, kept doing so until you picked it up and turned it off. You don't even need to look at who it is, no matter who it is, it's not someone you want to deal with right now.

"Block 'em, don't want the Captain getting a hold him." He doesn't spare you a glance as he spoke, the tic in his jaw pulsing.

Johnny meant well, but you couldn't stop the cogs turning as you thought of what would happen if the Captain knew everything. A part of your life you'd never shared with your dad, for good reason too.

And if he'd even believe you.

[PART FIVE]

✨ Thanks for reading I hope you enjoyed it :) there might be some errors/mistakes as I'm dyslexic, I do check my work a couple times, but I do miss bits and pieces - Leya

Taglist: @unclearblur @enfppuff @reiluvr @elita1 @tired-writer04 @kaoyamamegami @gallantys @leon-thot-kennedy @trulovekay @harley101399 @misshoneypaper @rpgsandstuff @tomatto1234 @lolyouresilly @madsothree @astrothedoll @grandfartvoid @delaynew @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @little-mini-me-world @exitingmusic @majocookie

(Some of the tags wouldn't work so sorry if I didn't tag you. If you would like to be added just let me know)

[thebluediner]

SO COMFORTABLE IT'S ACTUALLY FUNNY

the early days of dating are fun yet anxiety driven. when you're not too sure how you should behave infront of them or how you don't know what to wear or you won't know how to even walk when you know they're watching.

it's fucking complicated but you and billie were there once.

your nervous giggle the first time you met because she was so attractive you didn't know how to function. the way your hands broke into a sweat no matter how much you pressed them down your clothes. the way eye contact was such a big deal you'd even think too much of it would kill you.

billie couldn't even figure out who to look at in a bigger group because her eyes kept going back to you. everytime you'd say something her lips would already be in a full blown smile with her eyes throwing hearts your way. billie who focused too much on starring blankly at you she cursed herself out when she realised she didn't get your name or your number.

billie who was focused on her work when she needed to be but the moment her eyes landed on your familiar figure she tripped. billie quickly rolled away so you wouldn't see her in that embarassing moment. billie who'd peek your way to check if you saw her. the way her heart hammered against her chest just by seeing you.

you who nervously looked around the studio knowing she was around somewhere. everytime you'd see a black head your heart would drop at the possibility it might be her. the anticipation of possibly seeing her around never really going away.

even when you both started conversating like normal people those feelings still harboured the surface. billie would fiddle with her rings , her necklace any sort of an accessory she had on kept her sane while talking to you. you who had a hard time listening to what she's talking about because her eyes were too captivating for you to register anything else when looking at them. which resulted with a lot of huhs and questionable yeahs

when you finally landed a date. god, billie didn't know if she should stand up and and open the chair for you to get seated or not, she did though. when there was awkward silence the both of you dorks would just smile at each other like you were stiffling a laugh. the accidental touching of feet beneath the table which you both excused quietly. the way you were cautious not to intrude each other's space but at the same time wanting nothing more than to be touching.

the silent walk towards each other's cars after the dinner. the question that hung above y'all. should we kiss ? should we hug? a handshake ?

it was pathetic but you were young and climbing the ladder of love.

when the first kiss happened. you didn't know how to even approach it you were too much in your head. did your breath smell okay ? where your lips soft enough ? do you even remember how to kiss properly ? the questions tortured you so you just rolled you eyes and leaned against the sofa and starred at the screen giving up.

billie on the other hand was counting down the seconds in her head. she gave her self a countdown to kiss you no matter how scared she was because if she didn't you'd haunt her dreams more than she'd like that night . so, when her self timed clock hit zero she leaned towards you her hands cupping your face and kissed you.

the first time you slept over each other's house was also hectic. it was nothing special then it was purely innocent. you had brought your essentials and mentally prepared yourself for tonight. you'd cuddle to sleep and behave nothing other than that which was hard because you've already imagined your sex lives way ahead of time. you wondered if your pyjamas were cute enough or if your bare face was pretty enough for billie or if you snored or if you slept with your mouth agape gosh this was so stressful.

billie wasn't any less nervous. she had woke up early and cleaned the entire house just so you'd arrive in a spick and span house. she took sharks fur off the couch and the lounge carpet. she made sure to search the field of any poop left by her two doggies she wanted everything to be perfect. she stocked her fridge so she wouldn't look like she would starve you in the future or anything like that gosh she did a lot that day so when you got to bed she was knocked out on your chest.

the first time you had sex. god you could thank the power of hormones for having you entirely focused on billie and nothing else. as soon as her lips made it way to yours you were gone. you didn't overthink the entire thing at all. maybe afterwards you did.

when you woke up and billie wasn't in bed your heart dropped. you were disoriented for a minute before you heard her voice in the kitchen probably speaking to shark. a part of you thought she'd left you there.

billie wanted it to be perfect. she wasted no time at waking up and making you breakfast to bring it to you in bed. she strived to see your face when you ate first thing in the morning. billie was so enamoured by you she had this goofy smile on her face the whole day.

meeting the family. you had prayed that day. you prayed for the god above to help you oversee the day with no anxiety. so many questions popped into your head. was maggie going to be an evil mother, was finneas going to be the type of sibling that thinks nobody is ever good for their little sister gosh was claudia going to ignore you because you give her bad vibes or something. shit you needed to stop thinking so much.

billie was also a mess when she met your family. it was such a big family for her mind to comprehend. you had atleast five different grandmothers and maybe four to two grandfather's who together produced atleast a dozen kids who then went on to find their own partners in life and produced you and your so many cousins. billie didn't trust herself to remember most of them which made her feel so guilty.

well until you told her she didn't have too because you also didn't know some of them. you both laughed at that.

the first time you pissed or popped next to each other. you'd always overthink this when you're single. what's it's gonna be like? will she judge me ? what's exactly is she going to be hearing while I'm in there.

billie debunked all those ridiculous questions when she'd ask you to sit at the door and accompany her while she's at the toilet. billie who'd be proud of every poop she was able to take and have no shame.

billie who even followed you into the toilet when you wanted to pee or poop. you'd have to chase her out like she was shark and she'd pout but still stand at the door.

all those moment each filled with anxiety at the earlier stages change so much when you've been together for years.

you'd wake up in the morning next to billie sprawled across the bed in weird positions you didn't even think to question. even billie would wake up to you still sleeping. she'd watch you sleep with your mouth agape and she'd smile thinking you're the cutest women alive.

you'd walk into the bathroom to brush your teeth and billie would follow behind you to go pee while you're still there. it was normal now none of you dared to even bat an eye at it. she'd later flush the toilet and playfully slap your ass and join you in nursing your teeth.

when you'd bath billie would be there talking your ear off about how stupid her dream was because it made no sense to her. she'd lean against the wall or sit on the toilet seat and talk to you. none of you would think anything about it you'd just talk casually.

when you leave the shower you didn't even bother to put a towel around your body billie had seen even scar and hair on your body at this point. billie would compliment you giving you a kiss before she herself would strip naked and get in the shower with you still there.

you'd wear each other's clothes after the showers and speak nothing on it. you'd sit in odd position on the sofa watching movies all day with no judgement or second thoughts.

you'd both cook from time to time but sometimes you'd rather eat takeaways. it wasn't something you'd think about like earlier in the relationship you both just went with your own flow.

eye contact wasn't a big deal anymore. ofcourse you still found billie's eyes to be captivating but instead of keeping that to yourself you'd outright just tell her in the middle of the conversation. she'd turn a flushed colour and smile silly then the conversation would carry on.

even when your hands where sweaty you didn't care you'd still hold her hand with no second thought.

at the same time billie wasn't so shy when it came to staring at you. she would do it like she wanted to be caught and when you did she'd blame your own beauty because she just couldn't focus on anything else other than you.

during dates there was no such thing as awkward silence you both just fell silent and thrived in it. you didn't have to fill it in with pointless words. the subtle touches underneath the table weren't accidental anymore you both earned it sometimes even teasing one another. you both had fun without thinking too much.

after dates you'd kiss and hug while choosing to take one car out so you can drive back home together. the car would be filled with loud singing or gossiping or silence because whoever was the passenger princess that day fell asleep.

kissing wasn't a big deal anymore. if you wanted to kiss you'd just lean into it. you'd spend minutes kissing in the sofa with it going absolutely nowhere.

meeting the family wasn't so terrifying anymore. maggie was a delightful and sweet mother , finneas was funny and definitely not that kind of sibling and most of all claudia said you gave her good vibes so she was definitely now your friend.

billie now knew more of your family members than you which was so embarassing but billie was so happy about it. she said it made her feel more welcome if she knew them by name atleast.

god the way you'd both become to comfortable with each it was actually funny

[honestlyanowl]

can you do alphabet jinx smut headcanon?

Sure can!

(REQUESTS ARE OPEN)

Content: head cannons - suggestive mentions, light nsfw, slight spoilers if you squint? Strap use, fingering, switch!jinx, switch!reader.

( NA - no answer )

♡ A: aftercare - I feel like Jinx would have the move tentative aftercare; you wore sore? She would give you the best massage. You were sweaty? The bath would be filled to the perfect temperature. You were tired? She’d have the sheets changed and ready to cuddle.

♡ B: bondage - In the beginning Jinx would’ve been reluctant, she didn’t entirely like the idea of restraining you into submission, especially if it meant leaving rope burns over you.

So, on the occasions you would try it out, she’d use a soft silk, and never tied the knots very tight, leaving you with decent moving space.

You hadn’t entirely brought up the idea of switching the roles, but considering you’d usually tug her braids to keep her in place, perhaps the rope would be a nice alternative.

♡ C: cum - it was definitely a surprise when the usually white sticky substance leaked from Jinx… a shiny pink?

You never though shimmer affected that much of her.

Though it had its perks, sometimes if you ate her out, the diluted drug would give you a brief high.

♡ D: dick - During Jinx's her little time in Piltover every once in a while, would bring little things home for you, and one time, it happened to be a pink dildo.

Sex stores weren’t very common in Zaun due to their low storage on supplies, including silicon.

So if she wasn’t always able to bring these little things back, the classics always worked. That, or she'd make something for you from scratch!

E: NA

♡ F: focussed - Jinx is the type of girl to be dead silent when she’s topping you, tongue poked out the side of her mouth whilst she curled her fingers into you, fully concentrated to make sure you felt good.

♡ G: grounding- However, when Jinx was on the receiving end, she would be constantly zoning out, eyes dazed and her brows furrowed. In fact, quite often she'd have her hand held in yours, and you'd give it a gentle squeeze whenever you noticed her slipping, grounding her in the moment when needed.

H: NA

I: NA

J: NA

♡ K: kinks - I see Jinx as a masochist, she'd beg you to hit her, be on her knees pleading for you to wrap your hands around her little neck. Even going as far to carve your name into her thigh. Though, you'd have to patch her up afterwards; usually with colourful bandaids.

L: NA

♡ M: moans/noise - Jinx is incredibly loud during sex, no matter what you did. You looked at her a little too intimately? You would hear her breathing hitch. You tugged her hair? She'd basically cry out. You brushed over her clit? She'd be downright sobbing! Just imagen the lewd sounds she'd make when you actually did something.

N: NA

O: NA

♡ P: pillow princess - I will die on the hill that when Jinx is underneath she is a total, obvious, pillow princess. Almost never paying attention to you when all her focus was the way she felt. How could you blame her when she was so sensitive? Every little bit of touch on her little clit sent her into a turmoil of moans and sweet noises. Her eyes would shut, and she'd forget about checking up on you, a habit you often reminded her of.

Q: NA

R: NA

♡ S: switch - Usually Jinx was on top, it stroked her ego perfectly and allowed her to feel like she had some sort of control. It also took the weight off of your shoulders on having to appeal to her complicated needs. But on the times Jinx was under you, she'd be an absolute nuisance. Kicking you, squirming away from you, closing her legs around your hands when you were trying to touch her. She would make sure she was a brat, until you had to go as far as claw your hands into her hair and yanking it until she slacked against you.

♡ T: toys - This one's pretty obvious, Jinx would totally make her own, if not buying or better yet- stealing them from Piltover. She'd use the resources she had and make them! This sometimes meant modifying her prosthetic too, attaching prototype vibrators to the fingertip or using the spare plastics or silicon she had laying around for a faux cock.

U: NA

V: NA

W: NA

X: NA

Y: NA

Z: NA

- Owl 🧸

[maccamaniac1]

In a heartfelt interview in late 2023, Paul McCartney spoke emotionally about a dream that had shaken him. He said he saw John Lennon in the dream, alive, laughing, and speaking to him like old times. The encounter felt so real that he woke up in tears. While talking on the podcast McCartney: A Life in Lyrics, Paul revealed, “It was one of those vivid dreams where John was there. We were just sitting across from each other and I remember saying, ‘John, it’s so good to see you again.’” His voice cracked slightly during the recounting.

This memory came as part of Paul’s promotion for the 2023 release of the final Beatles song Now and Then, which used a vocal demo from John originally recorded in the late 1970s. With the help of AI technology developed by Peter Jackson for the Get Back documentary, the scratchy home recording was cleaned up enough to allow Paul and Ringo Starr to add bass, drums, and harmonies, giving the track the emotional power of a real Beatles reunion.

What moved Paul deeply was the process of recording around John’s voice as if he were in the room again. “It was incredibly touching,” Paul said during a BBC interview in November 2023. “When I heard his voice clear as day in the studio speakers, I had to take a minute. It wasn’t just music. It felt like a message.”

During an interview on The Tonight Show, Paul recalled the early writing days with John. He mentioned how, even in their youth, the connection had a depth that went beyond collaboration. “We’d sit across from each other with our guitars and just look into each other’s eyes as we figured the lyrics. It was a strange, beautiful sort of unspoken trust.”

But one of the most unexpected revelations came when Paul spoke about a 1980s moment that haunted him. After John’s death, Paul would often write letters to him. Letters that were never sent, just tucked away. In an emotional passage from his 2021 book The Lyrics, Paul included a portion of one note: “Would you believe me if I said I still hear your voice in the harmonies?” He admitted he sometimes sang along to old Beatles songs at home, imagining John beside him.

During the making of Now and Then, Paul said he looked to John for guidance. “I kept thinking, ‘Would John approve of this part? Would he like the string arrangement?’ That’s how present he felt,” Paul explained during the SiriusXM Town Hall session. “It was like he was in the control room with us, nodding or raising an eyebrow.”

A particularly touching moment came when Paul recalled a studio exchange with Ringo while they were finishing the song. They were sitting in silence after laying down the final tracks. Paul turned to Ringo and said, “Do you feel him here too?” Ringo replied, “I do. It's mad, isn't it?” That moment, Paul said, was among the most emotional of his recent life.

In a quiet revelation during his conversation with Rolling Stone, Paul shared a short anecdote involving a cassette player he still keeps in his study. The tape inside it carries one of the last audio letters John sent to him in 1979. “He was being silly, doing voices, making jokes... I’ve never had the heart to rewind it past that message. It’s frozen in time, just like him.”

Paul also touched on their complicated past. “We had our fallouts, sure. But I never stopped loving him. I don’t think he ever stopped loving me either,” he said. Then he added a line that stunned the room silent: “I still write with him. Not every day, but when I’m stuck on a song, I ask him what he thinks. And sometimes, I hear the answer.”

Now and Then topped charts globally, but to Paul, it meant something no chart could measure. “It gave us one last chance to sing with John,” he told the crowd at an intimate event at Abbey Road Studios.

Even after all these years, Paul’s voice trembled slightly when speaking about John. He ended one appearance by simply saying, “We started off as kids with guitars, and somewhere in the music, I still find him.”

[celestialprincesse]

Just going to leave this here and then sneak away! K bye! 🎀🩰

John Price is a man who runs on instinct. After years in the forces, he has to be. He's learned that the feeling in his gut is almost never wrong, and learning how to trust it is a skill. Right now though? He's wishing that his stomach would stop roiling. He's so anxious he feels like he might actually be sick. Kyle sits earnestly at his side, hunched over in the plastic hospital chair nursing a long gone flat vending machine Coke.

They've been tuning out your screams for a good three hours now.

Something within John breaks with every guttural cry that sounds from under the doorway. He's heard so many countless screams of agony from faceless people. They've been and gone in his head like a passing storm. Yours, he thinks, will stick for a lifetime.

Realistically, he knows that you're safe. Receiving the best care you possibly can, safe within the walls of the modern private hospital his insurance more than covers. He also can't help but remind himself just how complicated giving birth can be - and you're so delicate to him.

He's not actually sure when Kyle got here, having been running on autopilot since your contractions started yesterday. All the boys love you just as much as you do them, and when he'd messaged their shared group with a simple: > On way to hospital now. they'd been so shit scared.

Each one of them had opted to take up shifts staying beside their captain in the hospital, waiting earnestly for if they were at all needed. Johnny had picked up groceries, claiming that he' d best know what to get for a new mum, seeing as he's the only one besides Price who actually has sisters, and a niece of his own. None of them would ever admit that they also wanted to be the first to see little baby Price, and to check in on his wife who'm they'd grown to love so much, but there'd definitely been attempts on all three sides to work out when the baby would approximately pop, so that they could time their stint accordingly.

"Think she's okay in there?" John croaks, lifting his head from his palms, squinting at the fluorescent hall lights with a tired grunt.

Kyle swallows the sip of Coke in his mouth before responding. "She's a trooper. I think if anyone can handle having a baby, it's your missus."

Hours later, your small hospital room falls silent, and John is immediately up on his feet, back ramrod straight, everything alert. And then, a baby cries. It's a little hiccuping whinge at first, but then his baby seems to find their voice, wailing up a storm.

"You should go. See them." Kyle prompts quietly, noticing his captain's reverie as he just stands there staring at the closed door.

Nurses file out one by one, whilst he makes his way in, a dazed sort of look on his face as he sees the swaddles blanket you hold close to your chest, gurgling softly as tiny fat fists reach out to your nose.

The stillness in the room is like time stops entirely, only finally broken by a soft "Hey." as your husband makes his way quietly to your side.

"Hi." You breathe, a soft smile blossoming on your tired face, scooting along in the hospital bed so he can sit beside you.

The reverence on his face as he looks down towards the face of such a small creature is a look only talked about in fairytales. A look that tells you that your baby is the luckiest child in the world to have a dad like John.

"She's a girl." You laugh softly, noticing the look on John's face, the one that says he's holding his tongue.

"Oh, my baby girl." Tears spring to his cerulean eyes as he brushes a gentle finger down the soft slope of her tiny nose.

For a moment, the two - three - of you sit in total stillness, entirely enraptured by the tiny human you currently keep held so closely to your chest. Until there's a quiet, tentative knock on the door.

"Mrs Price? Can we come in?" Kyle's voice comes softly from the other side, but before you can even finish your "Yes" not just Kyle, but also Simon and Johnny are practically barrelling into the room, barely able to contain their intrigue as they lock eyes with the little blanket wrapped parcel they've been waiting nine months to meet.

The minute you invite them to look at the sleeping face of your daughter, they're practically tripping over themselves to see the much anticipated baby Price.

"Looks jus' like her mam." Johnny observes, whilst Simon just stares, and Kyle busies himself with taking a picture of you, John and your baby girl.

"Bought 'er a present, mrs Price." Simon admits a little sheepishly as he pulls a haphazardly wrapped parcel from his coat pocket. A stuffed ghost teddy only just the size of your fist. "To remind 'er that uncle ghost is always looking out for her."

You're practically crying at the thought behind his gift, carefully side-hugging the lieutenant with the arm that's not holding your daughter.

"We're all here for her. And for you. Always. One for one and that."

[lostinlovingrevery]

hi!! im here to beg for a logan comfort fic lmao. Just need some good ole Logan being a softie and doing his best to cheer me up after it feels like everything in my life is going wrong lol

tysm i love ur work u write some delicious logan fics

Support

Logan Howlett X Reader

It's been a rough time, and Logan does his best to make you feel better

A/N: Logan being a softie when he usually acts like a tough guy is the best thing ever....I hope this cheers you up!!! Also I used worst logan but you could prob picture any Logan...and thank you!! I love your work too <3 For anyone who needs it, bad times aren't forever! Take it day by day, and remember to do little things for yourself to enjoy, whether it's making sure you drink water, or buying that treat, or taking a nap. Your life is and always moving towards something better <3

Warnings: Fluff! Logan nearly sets the kitchen on fire, depression, softie logan

"Babe?"

Logan's voice called out to you as he stepped into your home. He noticed signs that you were home, unusual for you since you were usually at work. Your shoes discarded by the door, your keys hung up on the decorative hooks shaped like a lotus flower.

Worry hit him as he walked through, wondering what was wrong for you to be home so early. He held a bouquet of flowers in his hand, something he picked up to surprise you on the way home- a strange feeling he had when he saw the florist shop. The bouquet was all your favorite flowers, and he knew it'd make you smile when you see them.

He reached your bedroom, pushing the door on it to find you bed, some princess movie was playing on the tv, while you were wrapped in a blanket in bed, your curtains pulled shut shrouding you in darkness.

"Hey." He greets. You looked at him, an unhappy frown set across your face, your eyes looked tired and dejected. "Hey baby, whats wrong?" His voice turned soft as he walked over to you. He moved to sit on the bed next to you.

"It's just....Been a bad day. Didn't feel like working or doing anything." You shuffled a bit in your spot, pulling the blanket tighter around you.

He was silent a moment as he observed you. Then lifted the bouquet in his hand. Your eyes brightened a moment when you saw them, hands reaching out to take them.

"Thank you Lo..." You say softly as you cradled the flowers. "They're beautiful."

He settled completely on the bed, his arm wrapping around you and pulled you into his side, gently taking the bouquet back and setting it on the bedside table. You melted into him, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"You already know." You say softly. He nods, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

It had been a tough couple of months for you. You've been going through it lately, feeling as if it will never stop, thing after thing happening and pushing you to the edge of just barely holding it together.

"Y'know baby I..." He trailed off as he tries to find the right words. Logan always considered himself bad at this, at comfort. Never seeming to know what the right words were to say. He certainly shared his fair share of trouble, complications, loss. "I know it's rough right now... You're still here though, right?"

"Yeah." You say softly, your head resting on his shoulder.

"It'll pass I mean...It won't be easy no but I'm here for you and... We'll take it day by day. This ain't the first time things got rough, and you got through that."

"I'm just so tired." You let out a breath,

"I know." He says. He turned his head and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "You've been damn strong getting through everything."

"It feels like it'll never lighten up."

"I..." He stopped. "I know this is corny but...It will. Believe I've been where you are, I've been through it. Fuck I never thought I'd get anything sort of peace or..." He looked at your closed curtains, noticing the small beams of sunlight streaming through the crack. "Sunshine..." He turned his head to look down at you, bringing his hand up to your chin, so you'd look up at him. "Then I met you."

Your downtrodden expression softened, a small quiver of your lips. "Really?"

He smiled. "Yeah baby. Couldn't tell you the last time I've been this happy. I consider myself damn lucky to have someone like you in my life." He reached up to brush some hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. "You ain't going through this alone. I'm here for you. Whatever you need."

You nodded, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned to capture your lips, in which a small smile grew as he kissed you.

"I know you'll get through this." He repeats again as you part. "We'll take it day by day, for now. Alright?"

"Okay." You nodded looking up at him.

"So, you wanna keep watching this?" He nods to the movie. It looked like Cinderella. "You uh...What they call it, binge-watching?"

"I am. They just make me feel better. I know you're not super into these so we can cha-"

"Nah. Lets watch em." He says. "They're not so bad anyway..." He adjusted himself on the bed, laying further back, with your curled into his side comfortably. His hand wrapped around you softly pushed under your blanket armor, as he scratched up and down your arm in a soothing motion, occasionally coming up to your shoulder, and along your jaw, tracing it gently as if he was memorizing the shape and feeling of the curve of your body.

The gentleness of his touch, the firmness of him besides you lured you quickly into sleep as you became relaxed. Your mind settled into words, you napped in the safety of his arms.

Only to be rudely awakened by a fire alarm. Your eyes shot open as you sat up in confusion, the rapid beeping coming from the hall made you jump out of bed. You hadn't noticed Logan wasn't at your side anymore, walking past the tv as it was playing another princess movie, one Logan must have put on even after you fell asleep.

You ran out, looking up at the smoke detector and noticing a small haze in the hallway. You grabbed a broom in the closet, using it to set the detector off before going to the kitchen to figure out the source of the smoke.

Logan stood there, attempting to put out a small flame with the lid of a pan, and a box of baking soda in the other hand. The kitchen slightly messy, with ingredients strewn along the counter, baking soda spilled on the floor, and a sink of messy dishes. Your flowers he got you earlier though was set nicely in a vase full of water- the only thing not a mess in the kitchen.

"ah fuck!" Logan cursed under his breath, finally getting the flame out, before turning to you. You press your lips together at the sight of his disheveled figure. His hair a mess, and he wore your cooking apron with kiss the cook written on it, stained with various mysterious liquids. "I uh...Was trying to make your favorite dinner." He says quietly, a blush coming to his cheek.

"Um...I thought you were a decent cook?" You ask teasingly as you raise a brow.

"Yeah I...Thought I was too." He smiles with a fluster. "I got distracted, measured a few things wrong."

You giggled, walking over to take the baking soda from his hand. "How about we try it together?"

He grinned wider, a small nod of acceptance, and you leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his nose.

You spent the rest of the evening cleaning the kitchen up, and restarting the recipe. You were able to properly show Logan how to make it- especially exactly the way you like it, for future purposes.

Logan put on music in the background, your favorite playlist that at this point he had memorized by heart with how often you listen to it. He diced some veggies, while you worked on cooking the main course.

It settle a layer of peace of you, as you focused on cooking and showing Logan the ropes of your favorite meal. It didn't make your worries disappear, but it gave you solace as you were able to enjoy some peace with him.

Maybe your worries would still be there, but at that moment, you could allow yourself to be with him.

He snuck up behind you while you were lost in thoughts, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close, as he nuzzles his face into your neck, making you giggle. He pressed a kiss into the shell of your ear, before rocking his body back and forth to the melody of the tune currently playing. His attachment to you made your body follow his movements.

"You know how much I love you?" He mumbles softly into your ear, his lips brushing over your skin. You leaned back into him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder. He brushed his lips over your cheek, keeping his hold on you. "Every things going to be okay bub. I promise." He whispers softly, as if to make sure only you heard it - because he meant it for you. Everything he does is for you.

You turned your body, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I love you too." You whispered, pecking his lips.

He pulled you away from the oven, as you both began slow-dancing in the kitchen. His hands rested on your hips, a comforting hold he kept on you, as if he was keeping you afloat from drowning under water. You finally leaned back in, resting your head on his chest and closing your eyes as you listened to his heartbeat.

The world felt awful, but at least he was there, to help you see the things that made life brighter.

[sgiandubh]

In which the Music Manager strikes again

I very honestly think it's time to try and sort out a very complicated question, that bothered this side of the fandom for a long while.

This comment summed it up perfectly and I promised a separate post to discuss some of it, bearing in mind that this is Just My Opinion:

I think the early days on this side of the fandom were the best of times and the worst of times, too. The best of times, because shippers had daily receipts and renewed confirmation. The worst of times, because fanfic or just wishful thinking did find a way to sometimes overlap with what obviously already was a very complicated reality.

By the time the Dreaded MC reached our shores, the shockwave was cosmic. People cried. People quit. Former friends started bitching on and about each other. But once the first shock was taken full front in, some tried to make sense of it, as I have already written. I maintain my position which is to never judge or discuss anything I was not a direct part of, and so I choose to remain silent on all the things that were done to that extent. It is not my call and it is not my intention. My intention is to try and correct some fantasies and plain untruths that have been taken for granted for many, many years, in here.

I have already explained here why the Ibiza marriage is, at worst, fanfic and at best, some sentimental-binding handfast ceremony on the beach, possibly: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/772076510404395008/hola-hola-pregunta-de-novata-asombrada-de-veras?source=share

To back it up, here are the applicable regulations, as per the UK Government itself:

[Source: https://www.gov.uk/world/organisations/british-consulate-ibiza]

The only problem is, you can get married in a British consulate if and only if the host country's legislation gives permission for it:

If you click on the link below, you will not find Spain on the list of the countries where a consular marriage can be arranged. The reason for it is that Spain does allow same-sex marriage (which is the main reason this type of ceremony is still being performed as such, in a handful of British consulates across the world) and also because it does allow two foreign citizens to marry on its territory, provided certain requirements are being met.

[Source: https://www.gov.uk/guidance/getting-married-at-a-british-embassy-high-commission-or-consulate]

This is where things become impossible for that Ibiza marriage scenario, because there is no way they could have arranged a Tijuana marriage of sorts. While Spain does allow foreigners to marry on its territory, it leaves to the provinces the power to set the criteria of doing so. For Ibiza, you have to be a legal resident (which means, to have a residence permit issued by the Spanish authorities) there for at least two years prior to the date of your marriage:

This leaves, in theory, the possibility of a legally binding Catholic marriage, celebrated only in church, since C is a Catholic herself and, unlike the case of Anglicans (Presbyterians, in the US) not needing a prior UK civil marriage certificate (something which in theory, would have extended also to S):

[Source, for both of the above: https://www.hitched.co.uk/wedding-planning/organising-and-planning/getting-married-in-ibiza/]

But we know that never happened, unfortunately. And we know it because on that damned Marriage Certificate both C and McGill wrote and signed, is that horrible little word: 'single'.

Sorry for hurting your eyes with this. Some say the best way to overcome your greatest fear is to face it - I wholeheartedly agree with them:

[Source: https://www.tumblr.com/hurleyburly/649158609642618880/arrived-this-morning-april-22nd-by-post-from-the?source=share - I used this particular one, because the legal watermark is very obvious on it and also, because it is the easiest to look for and find].

Before the 2004 reform of the UK marriage and civil partnership legislation (enforced starting December 2005), the appropriate mention on a marriage certificate was either 'bachelor' or, accordingly, 'spinster'. That meant none of the two future spouses were married before. This has been further clarified by the Registrar General of England and Wales, acting as sole competent authority in that field, in September 2005:

[Source: http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/uk_news/magazine/4141996.stm]

Therefore, all of the above beg the question: which scenario applies?

1. SC got married in Ibiza, the USA, or Atlantis (doesn't matter, legal case in point is entirely the same). In that case, C would have been already married to S, on August 10, 2019. That would make her a bigamous woman. The punishment for bigamy, in the UK, is 6 months (convicted) to 7 years (indicted) in prison and a fine of £5,000, according to the Offences against the Person Act 1861:

[Source: https://penmansedgwick.com/bigamy/]

On top of it, writing 'single' on that paper without it being legally true would also qualify her as a perjury. In the UK, the punishment for perjury, in the special case of marriage procedures, is 2 years in prison if convicted and up to 7 years in prison, if indicted, plus a fine of £100, according to the Perjury Act 1911:

[Source: https://www.legislation.gov.uk/ukpga/Geo5/1-2/6]

Does anybody seriously (I repeat: seriously) think C or anyone else involved, for that matter, would have risked that? Now, I know the integrity of the Authorized Person and/or the GRO people has been questioned. I am not going there, because I was not involved in that entire business. Corrupt officials exist everywhere, after all, and that is not entirely out of the question. However, without the misdemeanor being denounced as such, you can bet no investigation has been conducted on that particular point. As such (and one last time, for I shall not discuss this anymore, lest we'd have news about it) the Dreaded MC is still a legal paper, producing legal effects. You can choose to ignore it and go your merry way, but you cannot tear it apart in a fit of rage and hide the shreds under the carpet. It is there and it happened. What possessed her and why exactly, we might never know.

Finally, if C would have been (secretly) married to S (in Ibiza, the USA or Atlantis - legal case in point still the same) and divorced before August 2019, the appropriate wording would have been 'previous marriage dissolved', with no mention of any other specifics. The same we'd have if... but I'll stop here.

2. Second scenario and what I think might have happened (in Ibiza, the USA, or Atlantis - doesn't matter): a symbolic blessing ceremony, with no legally binding effects. There is an entire thriving industry of it, yes, in Ibiza:

[Source: https://www.hitched.co.uk/wedding-planning/organising-and-planning/getting-married-in-ibiza/]

Again, you draw your own conclusions. I am not here to fuck your Sunday evening chamomile/Monday morning coffee to shambles. But I am here to tell you and all those idiots across the street that we are not naive and the fantasy, as wonderful as it might be, is exactly that: a dream. In real life, that horribly dull place with mortgages and taxes and responsibilities, things are infinitely more complicated and possibly even dirtier. And that is exactly what makes their story more interesting and endearing to me, in fact.

Many of you will probably be upset. If so, feel free to unfollow, by all means. I cannot and will not lie. I never did, because I think it is useless and idiotic. What bothered me the most is to see this witty community becoming the laughing stock of a bunch of brutal cowards, just because some thought it was easier to make believe than take the bull by the horns. And yes, accept the crooked reality of a paper that does not translate by any stretch of the imagination into a genuine relationship.

A relationship where the two spouses would publicly be glad for each other, celebrate their closeness, act like Mr. Tweedledum and Mrs. Tweedledee, invite the press to see the Taj Mahal, have joint interviews or at least offer some fucking snippet of normality. Because no, 'he is shy' is borderline insulting to McGill, who is a 48 year old man, by now. Because no, acting like deer in headlights every single time a more focused question is asked will only fuel further speculation. Because no, gaslighting in the mainstream press hundreds of people who questioned this entire mess is akin to PR suicide. And because no, you can't really hide forever a ridiculous arrangement, backed by a single piece of paper where the groom wrote himself, under oath, he was a 'music manager' (remember, BIF? you recently wrote a PhD thesis about it, isn't it ironic moronic?).

[shanastoryteller]

Meg is the first choice, of course, but she’s not suited to this type of long term mission and they all know it. The problem is, almost none of them are. The nature of the beast, she supposes.

That’s why it ends up being her, in the end. Well, it’s almost Ruby, but there’s one thing she has that Ruby doesn’t.

How she ended up here in the first place.

She thought Clyde loved her. She thought he’d take her away, from her father and her terrible life, and so when he died too young, before he could fulfill any of his promises, she’d sold her soul to bring him back.

But he hadn’t kept a single promise. She’d died in her father’s house.

“You remember being in love, don’t you?” he asks, cruel in his callousness, which is different than his other types of cruelty. It’s all he has, shining out in a thousand different ways. “You’ll be better at faking it.”

All she does is fake it.

“Yes,” she says.

This mission gets her topside. It’s worth it for that alone.

~

She slips into a pretty blonde named Rebecca first but by the end of the day, the girl’s screaming has given her a headache, and she slips right back out. She’ll probably just think she had a bad trip.

He’d offered to arrange something for her, but she wanted to pick herself, and she’s not interested in having someone crying and moaning in the back of her mind. But it’s not like there are a lot of options.

She could kill one, of course. But she’s never – she hasn’t been topside, before. Everything she’s killed before had already been dead. So she hovers for the next week, looking for some sort of opportunity, for something she can use that’s not going to scream at her.

The day before she’s going to have to either pick someone or risk being sent back, there’s a car accident.

The girl’s heart is still and her body’s warm, blood pooling down her head, but that’s nothing she can’t fix. She settles into the body, jumpstarting the heart and can feel the skin on her head knitting back together. It’s also blessedly, thankfully silent, with her the only one inside this body. The driver who hit her is dead and people are crowding in, a crying girl pulling her free. “Anne! Anne, are you okay, oh my god, I can’t believe that happened-”

She wrinkles her nose before smoothing out her expression.

The name will have to go. She’ll say she’s reinventing herself after tragedy, or something, but she’s not going to walk around responding to Anne. That’s not her name.

Anne’s a sophomore, which isn’t ideal, but she’s beautiful and doesn’t have that many friends and barely talks to her family, so she’s actually perfect.

She’s also blonde.

She’d been blonde before too.

~

All the demons who had run these sort of missions before give her advice, tell her things that will help her. Some of their assignments had lasted months, but no one’s tried to do it for as long as she’s supposed to.

He likes smart girls.

Be confident. Be flirty. He’s shyer than he looks.

He never had a mother. He likes it when girls take care of him.

He likes to take care of girls too. He wants to feel useful.

She’d had dreams, before, of all the ways she’d could escape her father. It wasn’t common for girls to get more than a basic education, but she’d been smart. She could read and do complicated sums and enjoyed the quiet evenings when she balanced her father’s books. She’d thought she might like an advanced education, thought it could get her out of her life, but hadn’t known how to manage it.

Clyde had seemed easier. More attainable. More realistic.

She’d sold her soul for nothing in the end. She hadn’t even got the full ten years of her bargain.

She doesn’t know how much of their advice she can take.

She can be smart, but considering the school they’re at, all the girls will be smart. She hadn’t been confident or flirty, which is maybe why she’d latched onto the first boy who smiled at her. She never had a mother herself and doesn’t know to act like one.

She’s never been taken care of and doesn’t know how to do that either.

There’s no way for her to do this. She’s going to be replaced and sent back below and he’ll be angry at her and she hates hates hates when he’s angry at her, what he does to her.

“Are you okay?”

She looks up, something cold on her tongue, but falters.

He’s standing there, warm hazel eyes and long dark hair, hunching to try and make himself smaller, and a smile on his face that does nothing to hide his concern.

“Do you ever feel like,” she starts, her dead stolen heart beating too quickly, “everything is falling apart around you and you have no idea what you’re doing and like maybe your whole life is one huge mistake?”

Well, fuck. She’s definitely being replaced now.

Except Azazel’s favorite throws back his head and laughs, smile stretching into a grin. “Every day of my life, more or less.”

“How do you deal with it?” she asks, scrubbing a hand over her face.

He shrugs. “Well, my brother would say women and liquor.” He seems to realize how that sounds a moment later and he pales, “Um, not that I’m – I’m not saying, I wasn’t trying to. He’s just sort of a cad, and – I wasn’t trying to, with you, uh.”

She feels herself softening in spite of herself. “So you’re not one to apply that method yourself?”

“No,” he says firmly, eyes wide. “God, I’m just – I’m sorry. I – I’m Sam.”

“Hi Sam,” she returns, with a smile she doesn’t have to fake. “I’m Jess.”

~

She’s not supposed to fall in love with him.

She’s to worm his way to his side. She’s to keep him from running back to his family, to keep him from rebuilding the bridges he’s burned. She’s to keep him distracted and focused on her until his powers activate and then she’s to guide him into using them, to be supportive and loving and to push him straight into Azazel’s arms.

Sam loves his family so much.

He talks of his brother all the time. His father less, the emotions there more tangled, but love no less fierce.

She nudges him away from it, talks to him about how it’s normal for families to grow apart, to say that they’ll understand when he graduates, that he’ll show them they type of man that he is.

By the time he graduates, his powers will start manifesting, and he’ll avoid his family without her prodding. He knows what they’ll think of him, then, and Jess tells herself that she’s helping him. That this is for Sam’s own good.

If he’s with her, then he’s safe. His father won’t kill him while he’s safe at school. He can’t kill Sam for powers that he’ll never know about.

It’s easy to dig into the anger for his father, to use his last words to Sam as a way to hold him at her side. His brother is more difficult. Jess doesn’t do much with that, in the end, tells herself that it would be too complicated, too suspicious, and as long Dean is sticking with their father it amounts to same thing anyway.

The truth is more complicated.

His father will kill Sam if he has to.

She doesn’t think that his brother will. She thinks that maybe he’d choose to protect Sam, over their father’s wishes, over everything he’d been taught, no matter the consequences.

She fears that she and Dean have a lot in common.

She invites Sam over for holidays, makes summer plans with him, holds as much of his attention as she can manage.

She studies and makes friends and laughs and spends so much time with him, but not all of it. It has to be believable after all, has to be constant, in a way that it didn’t have to be with all the other demons sent to take care of him.

Jess lives a life that had been denied to her and tries to do what she was sent to do and does the one thing she was definitely not supposed to do, which is fall in love with Sam Winchester.

~

His brother shows up in their apartment and she knows that she’s going to lose him.

Sam tries to act angry, but she knows him too well. He’s moving around his brother like a flower following the sun and she asks him not to go, tries to find the words to keep him here, but they all get caught in her throat. If she begged, if she threw a fit, if she demanded it of him, he would stay. He’d tell his brother he’s sorry but he’d stay with her and not help him and burn their relationship for good. He loves her enough to do that for her. She knows it.

She loves him enough not to make him.

He kisses her and she knows it’ll be the last time. He doesn’t.

“What did that take, five minutes?” Azazel is right there, breath on the back of her neck, and his anger fury rage pressing down on her even closer. “Over three years at his side and you lost him in five minutes. What a waste.”

“I kept him for over three years,” she says, tries to keep her voice steady, but knows she fails.

She had him for over three years.

“Not good enough,” he whispers, lips on the shell of her ear. “Guess I’ll have to send Meg in after all.”

Pain erupts hot across her stomach and her screams mix with his laughter.

~

Love always burns her in the end.

[ragnarockz]

this but Maya 😵‍💫

Tip Jar 💰

Lock Me Up 💛🔒

LC 🪙 OUT HERE LIKE HERE YOU GO! GO BE SMUTTY AND FERAL!

AND YOU'RE RIGHT! I SHALL! 😤

Ohhhhhhhh mmhmmm mmhmm mmhhm. Something about being punished from Maya and taking it. Asking for it. Oh, Reader...I UNDERSTAND!💛🔒

Also maybe I cheated with this because we got maya saying i hate you and reader begging for that cu- *GUNSHOTS*

Maya x Reader

Work had been painfully busy and complicated and it felt like there was no end in sight of all the little things that could and had been going on.

Maya and Matt were on your case constantly; Sal and Quinn promised to help you but were so caught up in their own work it left you the odd man out. And Maya? Your boss? Was pissed.

She had no time for fuck ups or laziness and no time for mistakes that would cost them time to waste no one at Continental had. It all came down on you and you knew it was, without a doubt, your fault. Maya could only give you cold glances and whispers of annoyance under her breath as she pretty much avoided you at all costs when it came to your working environment.

She didn't even whisk you away to go get lunch with her like you usually did.

On top of that, she didn't even sneak you off to some random boardroom to make out with you on your break before slapping you ass and telling you to leave first and get back to your desk so it wouldn't look suspicious. Meanwhile, with a smirk on your face, she would return shortly after you with always something slightly askew. She wanted people to know you two had been fooling around moments before.

But that was then and this is now and it felt like you'd go hours without seeing Maya and those times you did? Well, she was mad. Pissed.

You thought maybe you needed to be the one to break the ice during all this high-tension. Ask her out on break; grab the both of you lunch. Maybe she'd treat it like a peace offering of some sort; you, spending your hard-earned money buying her a mediocre sandwich from the overpriced cafe across the street.

So you did; you ran down right when your break started to get her and you a lunch that could be eaten quickly with coffee to wash it down. Hiking back up into the office with both your lunches in hand, you make your way into her office and set your lunch down on her desk.

Maya doesn't even look at you; keeps clicking away at her laptop.

You clear your throat and she still doesn't give you any attention. Maybe she is actively avoiding you.

"Maya?"

Nothing; daggers at her screen as she types away.

"Maya."

"I'm actively trying to fix your fucking mess. Unless, you want to fix it. Which you should...it is your stupid fucking mistake!"

You bite your lip as you stare at her and feel your blood run cold. You feel bad, of course you do, you were hired to be good at this job under her. And now here she was, fixing up a stupid little mistake you had no idea how you'd gotten it wrong in the first place.

"Maya, I'm s-"

"A fucking apology isn't going to fix this fucking mess! What the fuck do you think? Oh, Maya, I'm sorry for fucking up my simple little pussy ass job! Get a fucking grip!"

You bite down on your tongue because god forbid you snap back at your boss. Sure, you have become more than just coworkers; she'd rush you back home with her and bend you over her couch and fuck you into oblivion. But for you two talk back at her? At work? At her job and your mess?

Death sentence.

She hits down hard on one key before she pushes herself away from her desk and lets out a loud huff. Her gaze shoots over to you and burns into you. You're both silent and you know you're on the receiving end of her anger.

You hate how wet it's making you to know at any given second, she could really, really snap at you.

You watch as she stares at the food and coffee left on her desk that she just notices now; a little less blinded by her disappointment in you. You swear you see a glint of softness behind her eyes as she realizes what you've done for her but it quickly leaves her face as she pulls herself back closer to her desk and drums her fingernails on the desktop.

The sound sends shivers down your spine because you know, something absolutely disgraceful is running through her mind.

Your body starts to react before she even opens her mouth. Taking steps towards her and her desk; Maya still sitting down in her chair. At this point in your messy relationship, she doesn't even have to ask you and you already know where her brain goes. You belong to Maya Mason. No questions asked.

"If you think allowing me to fuck you is gonna clear up this fucking mistake..."

You shake your head at her because you know it won't, not logically anyway. Continental will still take a hit and you'll be either fucked literally or figuratively and if you play your cards right, both.

Maybe she's realized that as she lets her hand drag away from the desk so she can push herself away from it again. She's allowing you room, access to her. She's allowing you to come stand between her and her desk.

"Over or on top?"

She smirks at you as she shakes her head as if you're just so pathetic, so fucking desperate. You can see it in her eyes; the words she doesn't say yet out of her mouth.

She doesn't even reply; lets you make your choice. Allows you to pick your fate at her mercy. You carefully pack up her desk and offload it onto your own just beside it. Carefully moving her things to give the both of you clearance to fuck on top of it. She watches you with amusement as you try to bide your time because you know whatever she dishes out will be punishment enough for fucking up both hers and your job.

You make your choice then; on top. Because you want to look her in the face as she berates you and points out all your faults while fucking you into her desk. Your skin prickles at the though of it as you sit yourself down onto her desk and spread your legs just wide enough for her to stand in between them.

"How did I know...you have a thing for punishment, don't you, Sweetheart?"

Venom dripping from her perfectly lined lips as a glint in her eye reads danger. She's coming closer; closing the gap like a snake winding up before striking in for the kill. You feel your skin flush; burning hot now as you can hardly wait you start to swing your one leg slightly in anticipation.

She loves watching you squirm and she hasn't even put a finger on you yet.

"Punishment when it comes from you, yes."

She grins and shakes her head at your confession; a wrong thing to say out loud. To admit.

Those perfectly manicured fingers of hers grab and press into your knees and you wince as you feel her nails prick your bare skin. Your shorts have hitched up higher to reveal your soft inner thighs and she eyes them like a goddamn prize before her. Her fingers drag up from your knees and to your thighs, turning inwards to ghost against your soft skin.

You moan desperately and she laughs in your face.

"I hate you. You fucking worthless excuse for an assistant...all you're good for is a fuck during company time."

You almost don't hear her at first; don't register the words that flew out of her mouth because now, she's yanking down your shorts to let them fall at your ankles. Her fingers and hands move with ease, precision, as she slides her left hand down into your underwear and swipes dangerously at your throbbing clit.

You whine desperately, painfully and buck your hips into her hand. She pulls that hand out you so desperately want to fuck into and slaps your pussy against your underwear to the extent that she can at this angle. A dull slap that makes you clench around nothing.

"Maya...Maya, please..."

You just barely manage to moan out as you let your head hang down, eyes closed as you feel the echo of a throb between your legs. You roll your hips towards her; fucking nothing and knowing she's watching you fall apart for her.

"Please, what? You're the fuck up...and now you're begging me to fuck you? I don't think you deserve that...do you think you deserve it?"

You nod your head so hard you think it's going to snap off from your neck. She laughs at you and her hand comes back; almost too roughly. Painfully. She grabbing you through your underwear as she tries to finger you through the fabric. You rock your hips again and dare her to claw right through them.

You know she would but she's getting impatient now.

"You. You take them off. You're the one being a desperate, moaning slut."

And you do.

Because she's right.

And you are.

You pull them down to join your shorts at your ankles and wait; the cool air of her office hitting your bare, wet skin. The throbbing is painful now; drawing you to sudden and slow madness as it eats in your mind how badly you need her fingers inside of you. Nails and rings and all. In you so deep you'd see stars and cum almost instantly.

She'd hate that and you'd love it.

"I hate you-"

"I want you to cum inside of me."

She backs off and smirks at you as she watches you slowly lift your head so you could meet her gaze. The silence between you is heavy, loaded. You know you're asking too much of her especially with the colossal fuck up still lingering around.

Can you ask for forgiveness this way? Letting Maya Mason fuck you to right a wrong?

Of course you can because without a second thought, you watch her reach into her own pants and pull out her cock.

Of course she would have been packing today, of all days. She probably knew you'd ask for forgiveness with her cock.

"If you think this is going to solve anything...you still owe me, Pet..."

You moan again as your legs spread wider and she laughs once more; mocking you with just how badly you're begging for it. She must think you're so easy. Maybe, you think, you should remind her of that.

"I'll owe you anything you want, Maya...please...anything. If you want to use me for just your own personal fuck toy, I-"

But you don't get the chance to finish; not in the way of words. She's closed the gap between you and her; hands digging into your waist as she pulls you close. She almost drags you right off of the desk but she quickly and expertly anchors you onto her. One fluid motion and her cock is pushed inside of your waiting cunt.

You fold forward into her; forehead almost touching her own. But you know she won't let you do that; you'll ruin her hair and makeup. That knowing fucking fact that is so Maya Mason makes you moan loudly and roll your hips to a new fever so badly it almost throws her off her own game.

She collects herself quickly as she presses her hands into your hips and basically guides you down so that you're half laying on her desk; supported up by your forearms now. You watch through half-lidded eyes as she eyes your neck in which, you crane it out to the side for her and hope her teeth makes contact sooner than later.

The thought of her biting down onto the side of your neck would surely make you cum on the spot.

But she doesn't, not yet anyway. Because Maya still needs to be in control and she's the one who will control you until the very end.

Pumping herself into you with ease; she watches every tick and shutter your body gives her. You're giving yourself fully to her as she fucks you hard and deep and fast onto her desk.

"What did you say you wanted from me, Sweetheart? Tell me again..."

You swallow hard as you try to catch your breath; another whimper escaping your lips before your mumbled words do.

"Iwantyou...tocum...insideofme..."

What happens next bends your brain as you watch her nonchalantly reach to the side of her harness and lift out the syringe attached to her cock. You can see the semi-opaque lube inside of the plastic that's connected to the tube leading down. One single press of that plunger and she's coming inside of you.

Her hand holding the syringe draws it closer to you than to her and suddenly it all becomes clear.

Maya Mason wants you to pull the trigger.

Maya Mason wants you to literally make her cum inside of you.

"Oh...Maya..."

You whisper so sweetly you watch as her hardened expression melt away. You've given yourself totally over to her and she's relishing in it; feeling like a fucking goddess.

Your shaking hand reaches out between yourself and her; feeling the sweat covering your skin as your forearm brushes against yourself slightly to take hold of the syringe.

She doesn't say anything, just makes sure as she's staring in your eyes that you watch her gaze drift down to where she can see her cock pumping into and out of you. You follow her gaze and meet that spot as well.

Your thumb rubs gently onto the flat grooved flange before you use pressure; pressure building between your legs just like it does in your thumb pad as you press down.

Press down and instantly feel her fill you up; cumming deep inside of you.

The both of you gasp almost in unison as you keep pressing until there's nothing left in the syringe and that excess dribbles out of you and onto, around, over her cock.

Your hand lets go of the syringe; no longer caring because you've gotten what you wanted. Cum filling you so much that it's too much; overflowing onto her and you and her desk. Coating your thighs because of course she's still slowly fucking you because god, does she love watching herself over stuff that perfectly wet pussy of yours that's all hers.

And possibly, always will be.

[ranpazz]

FOOL ME ONCE, FOOL ME TWICE. ft. Fyodor Dostoevsky

synopsis ; Fyodor kept telling himself that he only kept you around for your ability. But how many times can he keep saying the same thing when you show him such genuine tenderness?

cw ; angst if you squint, mostly fluff, mentions of self-harm (fyodor biting his nails), you're his little nurse tbh, IT'S PROOFREAD FOR ONCE!!!

Beneath the Silken Dreams – An ability that allows whatever the user imagines to come to life. Fictional entities, objects, and living creatures. As long as there is a clear image in mind, it will become reality. However, this power cannot manipulate timelines, outcomes of scenarios, or the world.

Fyodor was a complicated man– one with a cryptic goal. Only a handful of individuals were aware of his status, his intellect, what he could do, what he would do. His goal was a tedious one, eliminating all ability users from this world. You knew his priorities better than anyone, he had reminded you countless times. He also didn't hesitate to remind you why you were still by his side. "Your ability is useful," he'd say, and that cold yet mocking tone was all you needed to hear.

You truly should have known this from the start. People that were subordinates of Fyodor were exactly what they were called. Subordinates. Disposable, replaceable, pawns for him to strive closer to his desire of a promised land. However, even with those painfully clear facts, you wanted to believe you were treated just a bit better.

In fact, it was rather noticeable. You've always been near Fyodor even before you became a part of this organization. Throughout the silence that filled the air when you were in his presence, there was always an unspoken conversation between the two of you. Perhaps you were delusional, or maybe you were right. He'd never inform you of the answer either way.

He noticed it though, how he allowed you to easily wander around like a stray cat, you were never too far away from him. He told himself that it was due to your awareness of your usefulness in his plans, yet, even he knew that there was more to it than that. This –whatever this was– was certainly a relationship that he couldn't figure out. Fyodor, for once, did not want to piece this together. Growing attatched with someone in this world was a mistake– a grave one for the reciever.

How can he push himself away when there's something so alluring about you that even he cannot overcome?

"Fyodor-kun," you called out. "your tea."

This was a tradition of sorts for the both of you. Everyday, at a certain time, you'd bring him tea along with a few snacks. It occurred without fail, and he noted it. Fyodor refused at first, he didn't want to accept your generousity. Eventually, he gave in just to indulge in you, after all, you continued insisting to the point where he cannot comprehend his next thought.

Fyodor looked away from his set of monitors, turning in his chair to face you. He then took the teacup you had prepared– the same one as always. As he took a sip, his eyes softened the smallest bit at the sight of you. You looked tired. Had you not been sleeping well? How come he had never noticed this before?

"{♡}, you should attempt to receive proper rest," he began. "You're of no use to me if you're surviving off of mere winks."

Honestly, he knew that the part involving your usefulness was not necessary, but he would rather remind you of your place rather that sound like he cares. Unfortunately for his emotional constipation, you caught on. It warmed your heart to see the subtle concern he expressed– it meant you were getting somewhere.

"Try these. They're delicious." You ignored his suggestion about your rest, pointing to the thumbprint cookies on the small tray. Fyodor enjoyed jam with his tea, you learned, so you decided to make cookies to test his palette.

He gave you a neutral, almost unimpressed, look. You mirrored it, albeit with a silent plea in your eyes. 'Please please try them,' you thought, and as if he could hear your mind racing, he sighed, setting down the teacup before reaching for a cookie. You noticed the teeth marks and dried blood near his nails– he'd been biting them again.

It was almost ridiculous how familiar you were with his habits, the little things he did or enjoyed. Though, the self-destructive habits upset you, and it didn't matter if he cared about your outbursts or not. He shouldn't have done them if he did not want to hear it.

"You've been biting on your fingertips again," you stated, a frown playing on your lips. "I keep telling you to find some alternative to that, Fyodor-kun." The Russian did not pay you any mind, bringing the small cookie to his mouth and taking a bite. You wondered if this was the first thing he's eaten today, and knowing him, it most likely was.

He let out a quiet hum of satisfaction from the taste of the dessert, the jam balancing the sweetness of the dough. It did not surprise him that your baking had been advancing, especially since it was always you who tended to him. "You did a splendid job baking these. Leave them there. I will finish the rest later on."

Your heart fluttered from his praise, but you quickly reminded yourself of the state his hand was in. Thankfully, you had prepared for these –reoccurring– situations. Fyodor observed with a subtle interest as you rummaged through one of the drawers in his desk, pulling a package of bandaids along with alcohol wipes, holding up the items with a knowing glint in your eyes.

The next sigh he had let out was one of resignation, extending his hand out to you with a look of something you couldn't quite name. Instead of dwelling on it, you tore open the little packet of alcohol wipes, placing the seal aside. You took his hand in your own, his touch cold yet familiar. Dabbing the alcohol pad against the tiny wounds, he didn't even react.

You wondered how people would react if they discovered that the 'demon fyodor', monster of the underworld who trampled anyone who opposed him, was getting the most insignificant of injures cleaned. People feared him –his touch– but you were never afraid of his ability, much less himself. Call it naivety or bravery, but you could never bring yourself to be fearful of him. To you, Fyodor was simply a man who wanted a pure world, to offer benevolence to the children and bring light. His methods were questionable, you knew that, but you'd do anything to help him achieve this dream world.

After cleaning the cuts, you opened a couple of bandaids and wrapped them around each finger delicately. He did not understand how you could handle someone like him with such care, as if he were the most fragile thing on earth. His piercing gaze trailed from your hands to your face, studying you. You were used to his habit of staring, so you let him be.

You tossed the wrappers and such away into the small bin beneath his desk, offering him one more smile before stepping away to tend to your other duties. "I'll see you later, Fyodor-kun." You said, leaving the room without another word.

Unbeknownst to you, a small yet noticeable smile had revealed itself on Fyodor's usual expressionless face when you left his office. If only you were aware of the genuineness behind it.

He supposed you were more important than he presumed back then.

[multifictional]

A Court Of Burning Seasons || Introduction

— > eris vanserra x archeron!reader, elain archeron x lucien vanserra

• Introduction: get a glimpse into elain and y/n life and feelings (eris and lucien aren’t yet present, but they will soon appear, don’t worry!)

• Summary: [Y/N] Archeron always felt the pull of autumn, even as a human. The fallen leaves, the warm colours, the spicy sweets, even her birthday. For Elain, it was the sun and the way of feeding her gardens and flowers with its light. Together in the Night Court after being thrown into the Cauldron, they both feel out of place. But while Elain has her growing bond with Lucien, [y/n] remains an outsider. With her powers still silents even after years, she feels a longing she can't quite place. A mating bond with Eris Vanserra is the last thing she expects and also what she seemed to need. But nothing is ever easy as it seems in Prythian, especially not with Beron impeding presence and courts rivalries always finding a way of creating complications.

• Warnings: just some angst for now

• Word count: 764

Y/N Archeron didn’t care about greatness.

She never had.

All she ever wanted, the only wish she had in her once so humble life, was to belong. It was a desire she always carried quietly, in the silence she always refuged in. But it was also something that had never come true. Not in the human lands, where she had lived as a human, and much less in Prythian, as an High Fae.

She never had a home. And she never would. Not truly.

The cottage she had shared with her sisters and father had been the closest she’d ever come to it. Small, ruined, and cold as it was, it had protected them after they had lost everything. The grand mansion her father had been granted after Feyre’s absence… it had never felt like hers.

It had been filled with comfort and luxury, but not the kind she had always hoped for. It still wasn’t home.

And the Night Court? It felt more like a prison.

Everyone there seemed to have found their place, their role. Everyone except her.

And maybe that was the problem. She didn’t want a role. She didn’t want greatness, power, a role to fulfil or anything extraordinary.

All she wanted was something far simpler, deeper. To belong. To find her place.

And though she didn’t know it yet, the Cauldron granted her just that. Not out of kindness, its magic didn’t work that way, it didn’t just make gifts. It acted out of balance, a cruel sort of revenge. A retribution for what Nesta had taken from it. Y/n hadn’t been granted any special powers like her sisters. No visions, no death-defying strength. Her power was small, normal, unremarkable.

Ordinary.

But it was so much more than that.

It was a power that tied her to a court where an unexpected mating bond awaited her.

She had spent her whole life feeling like a shadow, her mask of silence always misguided as fear, fragility and weakness. Yet the Cauldron couldn’t be fooled, and it had given her nothing and everything at the same time.

It had given her the chance to belong, to unravel what had always been there. To become what she was always destined to be.

And soon enough, she would have to decide the path she was willing to take to understand what it really meant.

Across the Night Court, Elain Archeron was in a similar situation.

As a human, she had always known what it meant to belong. She belonged to the soft vibrant greens of her gardens. To the colours of the flowers she coxed into beautiful blooms. But the Cauldron ripped that belonging away from her.

For years, she had believed it was all gone. Her gardens. Her future. Her happiness, which she thought she would never find again. But slowly, as she forced herself to face this new reality, she began to realize the truth.

The lie she had been feeding herself.

She hadn’t lost happiness. She had never found it in the first place. And now, for the first time, she wanted more.

Despite all her efforts, Velaris wasn’t the place for her. Not the city of starlight, and not even the Court of Dreams. She didn’t belong to the coolness of the night, she belonged to the heat of the sun.

All she ever wanted was to have a choice.

The Cauldron, though, didn’t care about what she wanted. It had given her a new body that wasn’t hers, the immortality she didn’t ask for, and a power that felt more of a curse than a gift.

And it had given her something else too.

A mate.

Elain had never asked for the bond with Lucien. Didn’t want him. She had spent years pretending it didn’t exist, pretending she didn’t feel the pull of it, as strong as it was at every tug.

She had told herself she didn’t want him.

But no matter what she told herself, Lucien was there. Not only in her dreams, but in her visions too. And in the quiet moments where her thoughts drifted. It didn’t matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t deny the truth.

Not anymore.

She yearned for what he offered: the warmth of belonging.

So she made a choice. A choice that would change everything. A choice for herself.

She decided to give the bond - and him - a chance.

And that choice will change everything.

And in that choice she would find what she had been searching all along. Not to see, but to be seen.

Part 1

A.N: i take advantage to thank you all for the support under the blurb I posted. I didn’t expect that. I’m so inspired for this fic so I hope you will like it!! Let me know what you think :)

Also, if you want to be added in a taglist, feel free to ask!

Taglist: @wrenisrad