#I’ve had this idea for a while connected to this

[kurizz]

Pink Poly Club (miromabby) Part 2

click for part 1

Summary: Mira had a solo interview—at least, that’s what she thought. But right when it started, two pink-haired boys showed up and joined in. What was meant to be calm quickly turned into a chaotic interview with all three of them. No one knew what was going to happen next.

Word Count: 1250

a/n: im bad w titles and posting. lets just say this is part two even though there's no significant connection between the first fic i posted.

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

“What do you think of the ship MiRomAbby?” the host asked Mira.

With a forced smile, she looked at the camera. “I think our fans are creative, but there’s nothing going on between us.”

The audience let out a chorus of disappointed “Aww”s and suspicious “Hmm”s, some clearly thinking she was lying. She wasn’t though.

“Is that so?” the host asked. He stood up and turned to face the crowd. The studio lights were blinding, but his smile was even brighter—like he had something up his sleeve. “Actually, we have surprise guests today. Would you like to meet them now, folks?”

Mira’s brows furrowed. She sat up straight. She hadn’t been informed of this.

“LET US ALL CHEER for Romance and Abby of Saja Boys!”

The crowd went wild—but Mira’s heart went wilder.

What? They’re here?!

No one told her. No one warned her.

Fans squealed and chanted as the boys made their entrance, the guys had their eyes immediately locked in on her. Their smiles teased with a sweet charm that made the air a little warmer.

She averted her gaze, ignoring the weird tingling feeling in her chest. Stop it, Mira.

They waved at the crowd like boy band royalty, soaking in the cheers of the people. Mira didn’t move. She was trying to compose herself.

They took their respective seats on either side of her. She noticed how they were always like this, keeping her in the middle. It was like this during their fansign event, and it's the same now.

Mira tried to play it cool, but the host had other ideas.

“So, who confessed first? Was it Mira?”

 She was visibly taken aback, “As if! Nobody confessed anything—”

“Yet.” Abby cut her off playfully.

 The crowd was loving this. Mira, not so much.

“I’ve asked Mira. About time we hear your answers too.” The smug look on the host’s face was irritating. “What do you think of MiRomAbby?”

“Oh, we heard there were rumors,” Romance stated, throwing his arm across the back of the couch. “And we thought, why not confirm everything?”

“What?” Mira whipped her head in his direction. He met her gaze with a sweetly masked innocence.

Abby nodded, “Yeah. Like, confirm that we’re all just friends…with really good chemistry.”

The host cackled, clearly thriving. “So no truth to the MiRomAbby ship?”

Romance lazily leaned in. “I mean, unless Mira wants to change her answer.”

“I don’t.” Mira blinked, her response quick.

“You sound so sure.” Abby chuckled in amusement. It was close to her ear, making her shift in her seat.

“Because I am sure.” her gaze sharp and challenging.

The host clapped his hands together, bringing the attention back to him. “Alright, time for a little fun. We’ve got some stuff prepared that were highly requested—”

Mira huffed. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

“—from your fans.” The host grinned. “Let’s start off with a classic: the heart monitor game!”

Some staff emerged from the sidelines to stick the sensor patches onto them. Their heart rates appeared on the big screen for everyone to see. Mira’s was already elevated, while the boys’ were on the lower side.

“Seems like someone’s a little nervous…” Romance teased, his voice smooth and low.

Mira took a deep breath. “It’s because I’m annoyed. That’s all.”

His brow quirked upwards, a small grin playing on his lips. Ugh, why is she even looking at him?

“And now it’s time for some Truth or Dare.” The host barely let the tension settle. “This one comes from sajaxhuntrix4ever. They said: ‘I dare you to hold hands for 10 minutes. If you let go, you’ll have to redo. P.S. We love you and support pink poly!’”

Mira’s blood ran cold. The cheers were deafening.

“Now that’s one way to start the game,” the host laughed. “Alright then, the timer starts once you hold hands.”

Abby offered his hand to her, head slightly tilted, eyes sparkling with a playful glint. “Whenever you’re ready, Mira.”

He said her name slowly, like he was enjoying the sound of it on his mouth. Her heart was already thudding in her chest. She glanced up at the screen and saw the BPM number climbing higher. No. Calm down.

With an abrupt motion, she grabbed both their hands without another thought. Let’s get this over with.

The timer began.

Romance shifted into a more comfortable position and casually readjusted his hold on her. He slid his warm fingers between hers, lacing them together with a satisfied hum. Mira chose to ignore it.

“Okay, next one is from the user supremecolorpink. They asked: ‘Why can’t you just date? Don’t worry, we support you!’”

Mira sighed. “I appreciate all the support, but it’s simply because I’m not… interested.”

That slight hesitation. What happened to being sure, Mira?

“That's not a very nice joke,” Abby teased, bringing their intertwined hands on his chest with a sly smile. “Not even a spark of interest?”

Yeah, no, I'm definitely not interested...right..?

She could feel the warmth of his chest seeping into the back of her hand. Her throat suddenly felt dry, “Enough. Next.”

“Between Romance and Abby, who do you like more?”

The two boys exchanged glances.

“None.” Mira was quick with it, her eyes shut tight with restraint.

More ridiculous questions followed, and somehow, she managed to get through them. When does this end?

The host chuckled before he read the next card. Upon reading, his eyes widened a fraction. “Ah, finally, another dare—and it’s a fan favorite: the Pepero Game!”

The room erupted in cheers of excitement, but it was nothing compared to the pounding in Mira’s chest. No, not like this.

The host took notice and didn't miss a beat.

“Well, would you look at that? Someone’s excited.”

Excited?

Mira looked to her left, as if trying to hide her face from the crowd. Things were starting to feel uncomfortable, and her shoulders grew tense. She didn't like this. She wanted to make the fans happy but not at the expense of her own. The room now feels suffocating.

Suddenly, she felt gentle, comforting rubs on both her hands, like it was trying to help her relax. She slowly glanced down at one hand, then the other—then up at their faces. They weren't even looking at her but their thumbs were rubbing soft soothing circles on her hands.

“Alright, Mira, you’ll need to choose a partner—” the host began, already scanning between Romance and Abby with a grin.

But before he could finish, Abby raised his free hand with a chuckle, “Actually, I think we’re overdue for a water break. I might pass out.”

A few people laughed from the crowd. Some were concerned.

Romance nodded, grinning. “Yeah, I’m thirsty too.”

“Oh look, the timer’s up. We can let go now.” he added.

Romance and Abby gently released Mira’s hands. She blinked, still trying to process the sudden shift. They removed the sensor patch from Mira's body, both their eyes fixed on her face.

“You’re thirsty too, right, Mira?” Abby asked softly, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“Come on, let’s go.”

That’s when they led her backstage.

Minutes later, a staff member whispered to the host that the three idols had slipped away, mentioning something about an emergency.

Whispers began to swirl instantly. Fans speculated wildly, their phones lighting up with theories and guesses. Had they ditched the show?

The buzz didn’t die down for the rest of the night.

________

it's so embarassing that i dont know how to use this thing </3 i feel like a grandma but im not that old i swear (or maybe i am) im just not a tumblr typa gal. dont laugh at me or maybe do, as long as it makes u happy. you can suggest stuff so it would help me have ideas. like, be it fluffy, angsty, or spicy. just a teeny bit spicy, like this tho 🤏🏻 nothing too crazy unless… i didnt say ill be writing them all so dont keep your hopes up. if you say please then maybe i would reconsider 😮‍💨

@suzieq1948374 @hillyj579

[romanczukowsky]

Magic Meets Muggle

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: A summer day at a Muggle park turns unexpectedly magical when Fred Weasley meets a curious and fearless Muggle girl. What starts as playful banter evolves into a night filled with discovery, desire, and promises that bridge two very different worlds.

Content Warning: Contains mature themes, sensual content, and explicit scenes of intimacy.

Author’s Note: Thank you for joining me on this magical journey blending the wizarding world with the thrilling unfamiliarity of the Muggle life. Fred’s charm and Y/N’s fearless openness made this story an exciting exploration of connection and desire. ✨💫

The hot summer was in full swing, and we, the Weasleys, were stuck on a trip invented by Dad to a Muggle park. Dad, with great enthusiasm, said to me, “Fred, this is going to be educational!” — and in my mind, I was just thinking: educational, yeah right...

We were sitting under a big oak tree, spreading out a blanket under the burning sun, while kids with balloons fluttered around and the smell of freshly cut grass filled the air. Dad was fascinated, showing us a pocketknife that Muggles use to carve initials into trees. Everyone seemed excited, but George and I exchanged looks full of disbelief.

Then I saw her. She was sitting a few meters away on a blanket, absorbed in a book, smiling with an elusive charm.

“Hey, George, look at her,” I whispered, unable to take my eyes off her.

“Yeah, quite nice, huh?” he replied in a hushed voice, like we were talking about some forbidden fruit.

I didn’t know her, I didn’t know who she was, but I felt this day was already going to be anything but ordinary.

The sun was blazing, and I could feel my shirt sticking to my back. Even the shade under the massive oak wasn’t helping. George was lying on his back beside me, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the sky like he was counting clouds just to avoid listening to Dad — who was still going on about the muggle pocketknife like he’d just discovered a new magical creature.

But I wasn’t listening. I was watching her.

She was sitting a few meters away, one leg tucked beneath her, the other stretched out lazily toward the sun. That white summer dress she wore clung just enough to make my brain short-circuit, and the warm breeze played with her hair like it had a personal vendetta against my self-control. Every time she tucked a strand behind her ear, I wanted to get up and do it for her.

"Think she’s a Muggle?" I muttered, still staring.

George shrugged without looking away from the sky. “Definitely. One of those with no clue about our world. Pure ignorance. Kinda hot, isn’t it?”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I stood and stretched like I was just shaking off the heat — but my legs knew better. They carried me straight toward her. I could hear George snorting behind me, but I ignored him.

As I got closer, I realized I had absolutely no idea what I was going to say. Hi, I’m a wizard and I’ve been staring at you for twenty minutes like a complete creep? Brilliant, Fred.

She looked up from her book, and her gaze caught mine. Her eyes were something else — slightly squinting from the sun, but sharp and focused. And that smile… not wide, but knowing. Like she’d been aware of me watching her this whole time.

“Hey,” I said, with my best attempt at casual charm. “Is this spot taken?”

Her smile deepened.

“Only if you’ve got something better to offer than pocketknife conversations.”

I laughed. Okay. Muggle with a personality. I liked that.

“I’m afraid my father already ruined my entire family’s image by showing off a glorified tree-scratcher.”

“That was your dad?” she asked, clearly amused.

“Yeah. Please don’t judge me by his obsession with sharp objects.”

She laughed, and it was the kind of sound that made my chest tighten. I had a feeling this was going to be more than a passing moment.

We had spent the whole afternoon together, talking. Mostly about small things — books, music, how ridiculous sunburns were, and how lukewarm lemonade should be illegal. But the conversation had been easy. Real. I didn’t even notice when we’d shifted so close that our knees were nearly touching.

“Wanna take a walk?” I asked softly. Maybe too softly.

She looked at me from beneath long lashes and smiled slightly. “Sure. But only if you promise not to impress me again with tree facts.”

I grinned sideways. “No promises.”

We walked slowly along the winding path that led out of the park. The sky was deepening into a muted violet. The lamps hadn’t turned on yet. It was just us and that brief moment between day and night. Her shoulder brushed mine once… then again. I didn’t move away.

My fingers itched to take her hand. But something held me back. Nerves? That wasn’t like me.

“You’ve gone quiet,” she said softly. “Regretting the walk?”

“Not even a little,” I said, glancing at her. “I’m just… wondering if I should tell you something.”

She raised an eyebrow, curious. “Sounds serious.”

I stopped. Gravel crunched under my shoes. She turned to face me.

“Okay, this might sound strange,” I started, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I’m not… exactly normal.”

She tilted her head a little, intrigued — not scared. “I figured that much. You’re definitely not boring.”

“No, I mean… I’m…” I reached into my pocket and pulled out my wand. Her eyes widened, but she didn’t step back.

“That’s… what I think it is?”

“Depends. Are you thinking I’m about to pull a rabbit out of a hat?”

“More like… you’re about to make something fly,” she said with a small smile, though her voice was soft with wonder.

With a flick of my wand, a few dry leaves lifted into the air, spinning slowly around us like golden birds in flight. She gasped softly, eyes wide. There was no fear in them. No suspicion. Just pure awe.

“This is… real?”

“As real as I am.”

She stepped closer, face tilted up toward the floating leaves… then looked directly at me. “You’re… a wizard?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “And I’ve never shown this to anyone outside our world before. Never.”

“I feel kind of honored,” she whispered. “And… strangely turned on.”

I laughed — short, nervous. “You’re not afraid?”

She looked at me, her eyes glowing in the twilight. “Should I be?”

“No,” I said, stepping closer, voice low and steady. “But maybe a little.”

She didn’t move away. Her gaze dropped to my lips. That was all it took.

I leaned in slowly — giving her time to pull back if she wanted. She didn’t. Her breath hitched, her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, and then… we kissed.

Gently at first. Curious. Then deeper.

Her lips parted under mine, tasting like summer and something that made my knees feel dangerously weak. Her hands slid to my hips, tugging me closer. Mine moved to her waist — warm, real, soft — and I let myself sink into her.

When we finally broke apart, she rested her forehead against mine, both of us breathless.

“I’ve never kissed a wizard before,” she whispered.

I smiled. “And you’re making it very hard to keep any sort of magical composure.”

She giggled softly. “Show me more.”

“Oh,” I whispered into her ear, “you have no idea how much I want to show you… everything.”

____________________— Y/N's POV —____________________________

I don’t know what I expected when he said that. But the way he looked at me… everything changed.

His breath on my neck sent a shiver down my spine — but not from fear. It was something else. Something deeper. Warmer.

I’d never been this close to someone and wanted more. Not just more touch — but more of him. The way his voice dipped low when he whispered, the way his fingers hovered near my waist like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to touch me. Like I was something fragile. Sacred.

But I didn’t feel fragile.

I felt like I was burning.

He pulled back just enough to look into my eyes — those impossibly warm brown eyes that sparkled even in the dimming light — and I swear the air between us crackled.

“I want to see more,” I breathed, before I could stop myself.

He searched my face like he was making sure. And then, slowly, his hand slipped to the small of my back and pulled me gently toward him again. Our mouths met — this time with less hesitation. With more intent.

My fingers tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, needing him to know I wasn’t scared. I wasn’t unsure. I was just… consumed.

Every kiss deepened, his lips demanding, tasting, teasing mine open. I gasped softly against his mouth when his hands explored the curve of my waist, settling there like he belonged.

“I don’t want to stop,” he murmured against my skin.

“You don’t have to,” I whispered back, not recognizing my own voice — breathy, raw.

He kissed down my jaw, slow and reverent, and I tilted my head, giving him more access, craving every warm trail his lips left behind.

The magic wasn’t in his wand anymore. It was in the way he touched me — like every brush of skin was a spell, every breath a charm.

And Merlin, I never wanted him to stop casting them.

“Oh,” he whispered, “you have no idea how much I want to show you… everything.”

I pulled back just slightly, trying not to let my excitement show too much. “Then… come with me. Let’s go to my place.”

He blinked, looking surprised. “Your place? But my family…It’s getting late, and—”

I smiled, biting my lip a little. “They’ll manage without you for a bit. Besides…” I leaned closer, feeling my breath warm against his neck, “I’ve got a feeling you don’t really want to go back just yet.”

He froze, and I saw that mix of surprise and something else in his eyes—like he suddenly realized he had me right there, and wasn’t letting go.

“Well…” he said, swallowing hard, “I guess they’ll forgive me.”

I grinned, took his hand, and led him away from the emptying park toward the quiet streets and my waiting door. His heart was pounding, and honestly, so was mine—not just from the kiss, but from knowing this night was just beginning.

We stepped into my house.

“Are you hungry?” I asked. Fred leaned casually against the kitchen counter, looking at me with that mischievous smile that eased the tension between us a bit. I sat down on the counter and grabbed a bowl of strawberries from the table.

Fred nodded, not taking his eyes off me.

I handed him the first strawberry, slowly bringing it to his lips. His fingers lightly brushed mine, sending a pleasant shiver through me.

He smiled, and I picked up another strawberry. “Have you ever seen the movie 9½ Weeks?” I asked, raising one eyebrow, sensing he might not know what I meant. “There’s this scene with whipped cream… pretty funny...”

Fred furrowed his brow slightly, trying to understand, but his eyes sparkled with curiosity.

Without waiting any longer, our lips met in a kiss — soft and hesitant at first, then growing more confident and passionate. The taste of strawberry and cream mixed with the warmth of our mouths, and for a moment, the whole world disappeared.

Fred’s hands found my waist, steady and confident, pulling me a little closer. His lips left mine for a moment, trailing soft kisses down my jawline, making my skin tingle.

Slowly, he reached to the hem of my dress, his fingers curling gently as he lifted the fabric just enough to reveal the curve of my thigh. I held my breath, the warmth of his touch sending shivers through me.

He looked up at me, eyes dark and full of desire. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, voice low and husky.

The room seemed to shrink around us, every sound fading away except for the rapid beating of our hearts. I let my hands rest on his shoulders, feeling the strength there as he leaned in again, capturing my lips with renewed passion.

Our kisses deepened, slow and hungry, as if we were both trying to memorize every inch of the other. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer while his hands explored more boldly.

The dress slipped a little more as he traced his fingers higher, and I didn’t stop him. The moment was ours — electric, fragile, and intoxicating.

Fred’s lips left a trail of fire as they moved down my neck, tracing slow, deliberate kisses to the hollow between my collarbones. His hands gripped my hips firmly but gently, pulling me closer as his mouth traveled lower, warm breath brushing my skin.

Then, with a confidence that made my pulse race, his lips slipped beneath the hem of my dress. The fabric was soft and thin, offering little barrier. His mouth settled between my thighs, sending a shiver through me that tangled desire and nervous excitement.

His eyes lifted to meet mine—dark, questioning, searching for permission. I swallowed hard, heart hammering in my chest, and gave the smallest nod.

Fred’s lips pressed softly against my skin, his tongue tracing tender, teasing patterns. His hands slid up my thighs, holding me steady but gentle, his touch igniting sparks that spread like wildfire.

Every flicker of his tongue, every careful stroke made the heat inside me rise, leaving me breathless, caught between wanting more and fearing how fast this moment was flying.

Fred’s mouth worked its magic, each kiss, each flick of his tongue sending waves through my entire body. I felt the tension building inside me, my knees going weak, and my breath growing heavier. As my body reached the peak of pleasure, Fred didn’t slow down—in fact, his kisses became even more passionate, more direct.

At one point, he gently turned me on the countertop so that I was lying face down on him. His hands caressed my back, his gaze full of care and desire. His lips traced down my neck, then he began to move subtly inside me, making me struggle to hold back a soft moan.

It was something new, electrifying—tender yet intense. Fred was confident, and I surrendered completely, allowing myself what I craved, even though my heart was pounding wildly.

His movements were slow and deliberate, each one sending ripples of pleasure that spread through me like wildfire. I felt every inch of him, the warmth, the closeness—it was intoxicating. My hands dug lightly into the countertop, grounding me as waves of sensation rolled over my skin.

Fred’s lips never left my neck, his breath hot against my skin. I could hear the quiet rhythm of his breathing, steady and sure, matching the pace he set. It was a dance, a perfect balance between tenderness and urgency.

“Are you okay?” he whispered against my ear.

I nodded, barely able to speak, my voice lost in the rising storm inside me. The connection between us felt raw, real—like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us, caught in this fragile, breathtaking moment.

Fred’s movements grew more urgent, yet never rushed, as if savoring every second. His breath was warm against my skin, mingling with mine in a rhythm that matched the pounding of my heart.

Then, with a low, guttural sound, he pressed deeper into me, his body taut with need. I gasped, the sensation overwhelming yet achingly beautiful. We moved together, slowly, deliberately, until finally—he shuddered, his grip tightening as he reached his peak. I felt him trembling beneath me, a whispered plea and a release that left us both breathless.

For a moment, we simply held each other, the quiet hum of the night wrapping us in a tender embrace. I rested my head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart, feeling a connection deeper than words could express.

I slowly turned my head to meet his gaze, the soft kitchen light catching the warmth in his eyes. For a moment, the world felt impossibly quiet, like time itself had paused just for us.

Fred’s fingers gently brushed a stray lock of hair from my face, his touch feather-light yet grounding. “You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

A shy smile tugged at my lips. “I didn’t expect any of this today,” I admitted, still feeling the lingering tremors inside me.

He chuckled softly. “Neither did I,” he said, then leaned in to kiss me again—this time slower, deeper, as if trying to memorize every sensation.

The quiet was comforting, broken only by the faint sounds of the city beyond my windows. Outside, the night stretched endlessly, but here, wrapped in Fred’s arms, it felt like the only place I belonged.

After a while, I pulled back just enough to whisper, “Stay with me a little longer?”

But then, suddenly, his expression shifted. His brows furrowed, and a shadow of reality crept back over him.

“I have to go,” he said quietly, voice tight with regret. “My family... they’re probably wondering where I disappeared to.”

I nodded, feeling the bittersweet sting of goodbye already curling in my chest.

He cupped my face gently, his thumb tracing slow circles over my cheek. “But I promise,” he murmured, “I’ll come back as soon as I can. You have my word.”

From his pocket, he pulled out a small, worn charm — a simple, silver lightning bolt. He pressed it into my hand.

“Keep this,” he said softly. “So you’ll remember me. Until next time.”

I closed my fingers over the charm, the cool metal grounding me even as my heart ached.

He leaned in one last time, brushing his lips lightly against mine. Then, with a final lingering look, Fred slipped out the door, leaving behind a silence that hummed with all the things left unsaid.

Part.II

[daisyssousa]

I just want to make this post because I’ve seen it a few different times lately, and I love my boy so I gotta say it:

Sousa was not brought on just to be Daisy’s love interest.

1) Dousy happening was not a foregone conclusion. JedMo said they hoped they had chemistry, and didn’t know if they were going to do it for sure, but then they thought Chloe and Enver had great chemistry so they went forward with it:

Source: https://comicbook.com/tv-shows/news/agents-of-shield-series-finale-interview-chloe-bennet-showrunners-talk-daisy-sousa-romance/

2) JedMo wanted Enver to come on prior to this

“You know, we’d always toyed with the idea of having him in flashbacks and stuff like that. We’re a big fan of Enver’s.”

Aka they didn’t pick a random guy to be a love interest, they wanted him around for stuff previously. JedMo and Enver are also friends circa 2009 because of the show Dollhouse. (And with Dichen! :D)

Source: https://youtu.be/ERUvCXVuCs4?si=s2O6DfMd9uzXQe5B

3) There had also been talk of bringing back Enver as his Avengers cop character (aka they again realllllyyyy wanted Enver back for things other than Daisy’s love interest)

Source: https://www.digitalspy.com/tv/ustv/a32888319/agents-of-shield-enver-gjokaj-avengers/

4) JedMo wanted to have a connection to Agent Carter in season 7 because they were exploring SHIELD history (and I’m sure they would’ve had Hayley, James, Dominic, and Chad too if they could’ve)

“But you know, when you’re talking about reliving SHIELD history, it was a natural thought to revisit Agent Carter.”

Source: https://youtu.be/ERUvCXVuCs4?si=s2O6DfMd9uzXQe5B

(Extra thought: They could’ve also put her with Robbie or Deke or not kill off Lincoln, it’s not like Sousa was the only option ever)

Thank you for coming to my TED talk <3

[bogwaterparasite]

Character Building!! (Saja boys edition)

Characters: Saja Boys (except Jinu)

A/N: Am I milking the fact that my HC’s seemed to be doing well? Yes. I’m also taking advantage of the fact that these characters don’t really have a storyline or anything of their own to sorta create their own personalities to use when I write fanfiction! Sue me, I love them.

Just fyi. I’m currently working on requests! So don’t fret, I haven’t forgotten about you

Previous post!! - SAJA HC’s

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Baby saja (Eun-young)

✮⋆˙ I’ve decided the name based off of the meaning that can be given to it. Eun-young can translate to both graceful flower or silver petal. I think it’s kinda fitting considering his soft boy sort of aesthetic, yet it serves as a good contrast to the personality given to him.

✮⋆˙ I believe that he got recruited by Jinu due to his musical talent. He’s a rapper, and a very good one at that, but unlike jinu? It isn’t something he’s been practicing ever since he was a human

✮⋆˙ Matter of fact, I don’t believe he was ever human. Despite Jinu saying that Gwi-Ma controlled the demons by the guilt they possessed, there is a possibility for some demons to just be summoned or created with the sole purpose of getting souls/defeating the demon hunters.

✮⋆˙ Eun-young’s talent developed from curiosity. He had always had a fascination for technology and the way things worked in the human world given that Gwa-Mi’s realm seems to be nothing but a void, and all of their entertainment is given by none other than Gwa-Mi himself. During the beginnings of the creation of cellphones, he most definitely stole one in order to take it back. While this action is suspicious on itself, he can always use the pretext of wanting to be connected in order to deceive the humans and collect souls with more efficiency.

✮⋆˙ While indulging in human media, he found himself drawn towards music, but not ALL music, rap specifically. He’d do most of his practicing down in earth, using it as a way to get closer with certain humans (and singers which I assume have more powerful souls) and developing his skills while still accomplishing the task given to him by Gwa-Mi.

✮⋆˙ Despite his gravelly voice, he was never truly into the stereotypical rapper appearance. The soft boy look seemed to be what called to him more than anything else, comfortable and colorful outfits that contrast the traditional dark appearance he holds in his demon form. It creates a sort of trustworthy character for humans, specially women, which he takes advantage of to the fullest.

✮⋆˙ Given that he is a made demon, he is rather devoid of emotion. Hes not a hateful person, but just holds little interest for things that he hasn’t developed an interest for, which is why he’s so willing to do pretty much anything. Even then, he will always go back to what he’s used to, which is doing nothing while scrolling through media.

✮⋆˙ He lacks taste buds, so his preferences of food come from the texture and feeling that they create. Colder things tend to have a thicker consistency than he finds rather enjoyable, which eventually developed into a liking of squishy and chewy foods rather than crunchy.

✮⋆˙ Even though he’s rather devoid of emotion, his vast interactions with humans and the human world caused him to develop more of a consciousness than other demons. This is what allows for Gwa-Mi to filter the voices into his mind, which although rare, still bother him just as much as the rest of the demons.

Abs Saja (Ho-Seok)

✮⋆˙ I’m not quite sure what the full name stands for, however, the translation for Seok is put as stone or rock. I think this kinda makes sense since I see abs as being sort of a reliable person? Idk how that makes sense considering he’s a demon, but yk.

✮⋆˙ I’m not too sure if All demons have formed pacts with Gwa-Mi or just Jinu? I’m running with the idea that not all of them were human, or have had to make a pact with him in order to become demons, but in this case? Abs did.

✮⋆˙ Born during the Joeson dynasty, about 80% of the families participated in agricultural farming(including his own), making it an incredibly competitive market. Due to increasing tariffs and environmental struggles, his family wasn’t the most wealthy. Unable to hire more workers, they used their 4 children to help around the farm, their pay being the fact that they got to survive another day. Ho-Seok was the oldest and strongest, which meant that majority of the tasks were handed to him in order for the farm to stay afloat. Although this was somewhat unfair, he did get a portion of the profits (although not much) which kept him quiet for the most part.

✮⋆˙ As he grew up, he became unsatisfied by the life he was living. Due to old age, his father wasn’t able to work anymore, which now meant that all the responsibilities (whether it was about the farm or the family) fell on him. This caused him to grow resentful of his family, the inability to provide for him and their children, while also having to deal with 3 children all at once began to take a toll on him.

✮⋆˙ There was one thing that he looked forward to however, a girl he had been crushing on for quite sometime. She frequented the farm for supplies, and she always served as a balm for his worries (even though she wasn’t aware of it).

✮⋆˙ In the end, all of these problems and responsibilities were what led him to create a pact with Gwa-Mi, becoming a demon in order to finally be able to live comfortably. He left his family to fend for themselves, slowly elevating his status by working with other members and eventually ending up as a chef in the palace. Despite him not thinking that he had any guilt about what he’d done, the marks were slowly consuming him.

✮⋆˙ What drove him to be at Gwa-Mi’s control for eternity was a simple mistake, at least he says it was a mistake. With his newfound status, he was going to confess his love to his beloved.. however, he was soon to find out she was betrothed to another.

✮⋆˙ This enraged him, as for now, even if he had gained more than what he wished to accomplish, he had lost everything that once made him who he was. In an attempt to salvage whatever there was left, he tried to consume the soul of her beloved, only to end up consuming hers by accident.

✮⋆˙ This served as a catalyst for his full transformation to becoming a demon, all his guilt consuming him whole and casting him into the life of eternal suffering.

✮⋆˙ He was scouted out by Jinu due to him being one of the strongest demons, he had no musical experience beforehand, so training him was sorta… difficult, but in the end it worked.

Romance Saja (Min-Joon)

✮⋆˙ Much like the other names, Minjoon can have a LOT of interpretations. Min can mean; quick, clever or sharp, and sometimes it can also be gentle or affable depending on the hanja characters used. While Joon means talented, handsome, or outstanding, which in my opinion? Is very fitting to him.

✮⋆˙ Unlike Eunyoung or Hoseok, Minjoon was a human up until recently, but he didn’t make a pact with Gwa-Mi, but rather made a deal with Jinu in exchange for his soul.

✮⋆˙ When Minjoon was young, his father left him and his mother to peruse a “better life” with his affair partner, leaving them to fend for themselves. His mother tried to make this transition as easy as possible for Minjoon, taking more hours in order to keep their income coming and still provide extra cash for whatever he might want, yet, this left little to no time to spend with her son.

✮⋆˙ He didn’t really resent his mother for this, quite the opposite really. Seeing her so driven to provide comfort to their lives despite their losses made him want to do better, to someday be able to provide for her the same way she was providing for him. In his search for ways to get rich, he came across the idol world. It wasn’t just the money that attracted him to it, but rather the musical aspect of it. They all seemed to have so much fun, doing something they enjoyed while inspiring others to do the same, didn’t that sound like the dream?

✮⋆˙ What drew him in more than anything were the choreographies, there was something about the way they moved along with every beat, every move perfectly aligned with the lyrics, it just felt right, something he wanted to do.

✮⋆˙ It was during highschool that he started to act upon this, creating a social media account and beginning to train himself to dance and create his own style. Despite what influencers might make you think, gaining a following was quite hard, not getting many interactions often left him disillusioned, but it didn’t stop him. The more he practiced, the better he got, and slowly his confidence and following grew.

✮⋆˙ He usually kept his interest quiet from everyone at school, but once, while practicing in an empty classroom, he managed to find someone who shared a similar dream to him.

✮⋆˙ The two of them grew closer, and they slowly began working to get their dreams come true. Eunseong was a composer, and combining this with the dances Minjoon was able to create along those lyrics, they seemed like the perfect match. However, both of them lacked in the aspect of singing, something that set them back by a long shot in the world of idols and k-pop groups.

✮⋆˙ Even as they grew, and they were able to get a following from their creations, the dream of becoming big was still far from them. In an attempt to better their voices, they went to Dr. Ramune for his “amazing” tonics, but as we all know, it didn’t work. And that’s where Jinu came into play.

✮⋆˙ One unfortunate night, both met Jinu outside of a shop. He offered them what they desired the most, a group to succeed, the voices they so desired, all of their dreams granted, just for the price of their soul. Who would be able to pass up on that offer?

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. Now with a group, a fame so vast they got everything they wanted, what else was there for him to want? Well, it seemed that he had forgotten a tiny detail.. the mother which he had worked so hard for, who never heard from him again.

Mystery Saja (Eun-Seong)

✮⋆˙ once again with the names and the meanings, hopefully you aren’t getting too tired of them lmfao. Eunseong can be roughly translated to many great;abundant, flourishing. Eun meaning kindness, mercy, or silver. It can also refer to grace, favor, or gratitude. And Seong meaning success, accomplishment, or flourishing. It can also be interpreted as sincere, honest, or true. All of these names are just things I believe are fitting to their character.

✮⋆˙ Alike Minjoon, Eunseong was also a human up until recently, matter of fact, he knew Minjoon personally, as he was his only friend throughout school.

✮⋆˙ He was born into a wealthy family, a very detached one at that. Family dinners were usually spent silent, or talking about the successes/faults of their family or company. This type of family style caused him to grow rather quiet, he hated big crowds, as they were nothing other than means to gain status, so he didn’t really socialize much with others in school. Most of his thoughts and feelings were written down on notebooks, and those words slowly developed into poems, poems that eventually turned into lyrics.

✮⋆˙ As his love for music grew, so did his feeling of isolation. He knew he couldn’t talk about this with his family, as a career as an idol was seen as taboo. He had so many ways to earn a living and get rich, and he decided to do that? His father would never allow it. Not only that, but the kids at his school who said they wanted to follow such dreams were just.. idiots. None of them cared for anything other than singing already made songs, doing the same as every other group out there did, they wanted fame and money without working hard for it.

✮⋆˙ That was up until he met Minjoon. It was by accident really, he just heard a song coming out from one of the classrooms and he decided to snoop, only to find him dancing in there. From then on, their relationship grew.

✮⋆˙ Minjoon was unlike anyone he had met before, he didn’t mind his quiet nature, matter of fact, he sort of loved it. While Eunseong stayed quiet and wrote, he would yap his ear off, even offering some advice about the lyrics while beginning to create his own choreography to it. He was.. odd, but he didn’t mind, after all, when was the last time he had this much fun with someone else?

✮⋆˙ Eventually, as they grew up, he opened up about his wishes to become an idol to his family, and just as expected, they didn’t react well to the news. Considering they were well out of high school, his father kicked him out of their home, putting the ultimatum to not come back unless he rethinks his life choices.

✮⋆˙ This wasn’t much of a problem, as he had saved up enough of his allowance to get an apartment, and after telling Minjoon after the whole ordeal, they both worked together to rent a place of their own, beginning to work hard to accomplish their goals.

✮⋆˙ Despite all the effort they put into their videos, it seemed to not be amounting to anything. They had a few debuts, and a small following of fans, but no matter what they did, they weren’t accomplishing what they truly wanted. This made him slowly start to loose hope, seriously reconsidering his fathers offer, however, Minjoo wasn’t giving up so easily.

✮⋆˙ Tonics, some sort of witchcraft, doing crazy dares, whatever crazy idea his partner came up with, he would follow. Did he truly think they would work? No, but seeing him so determined to not let their dream die out made him share the sentiment. That was up until they found this.. guy?.

✮⋆˙ Jinu, a self proclaimed demon who told them he would make their dreams come true all in exchange of his soul. It seemed shady as hell, and he was highly against the idea of handing whoever the hell he was anything valuable of theirs, he was going to decline, tell this man to fuck off, yet, seeing the desperation in Minjoon’s face, he couldn’t bring himself to. In the end, they both agreed.

✮⋆˙ And that’s how things came to be. They succeeded in their dreams, gaining the title of idols, their hard work finally paying off, yet, in the process, they seemingly lost themselves.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

I had a lot of fun with these, AND ONCE AGAIN, these are all up for interpretation! The Saja boys have no canon names or personalities really, so I’m just making it up on vibes and whimsy. Besides, I will be using these if/when I write about them, so feel free to do so as well!! And if you do, please @ me or lmk because I would love to see what you guys create with them :>

Reblogs are appreciated!

[otp-after-dark]

Atwood helped me be brave. I only wish June got to be brave too.

I read The Handmaid’s Tale long before it became a television series, at a time in my life when I was quietly crawling out of trauma. I was meeting someone new. Someone who didn’t check all the usual boxes but made me feel seen. Truly seen. Alive in ways I hadn’t felt before. The story of June and Nick hit me in the gut because it mirrored that feeling. It gave me courage. It whispered that there was power in choosing a love that wasn’t safe, but true.

Then the show came along. And Max Minghella’s performance in Season 1… I mean, I fell. Hopelessly. I’ve loved many fictional men—Damon Salvatore, Logan Echolls—but Nick Blaine? He carved out a different kind of space.

Nick wasn’t the loudest. He wasn’t the most traditionally heroic. He was quiet, restrained, morally conflicted, and often relegated to the shadows. But in those silences, in his stillness, there was devotion. There was rage. There was love. He carried guilt and grief and longing in his body like it was armor, and still, he chose her. Again and again. Even when it put him at odds with the world he was surviving in. Even when it meant sacrificing his own safety, his status, his peace.

As a woman, it might seem strange to say that I saw myself in him, but I did. I saw someone who couldn’t always say what he felt, but who loved with terrifying intensity. I saw someone who understood that survival sometimes meant compromise, but that love, real love, demanded bravery.

But what deepened my connection to this story wasn’t just the romance. It was the idea that you didn’t have to follow the path that was laid out for you. That women could choose something different. That there was dignity and liberation in building a life outside the box. That loving messily, unconventionally, could be its own act of resistance.

And that womanhood didn’t have to be defined by motherhood. That you could be whole without bearing children, or without raising them. That your love, your worth, your capacity for care and strength and identity wasn’t contingent on being a “good mother” in the traditional sense.

But in the end, the story abandoned that truth. It elevated motherhood as the only valid expression of female strength and purpose, and it did so at the expense of women who live outside that mold. It erased the woman who loves deeply but cannot be with her child. The woman who chooses love that doesn’t lead to family in the traditional sense. The woman whose story is not centered on caregiving, but on surviving, resisting, burning it all down, and loving wildly while doing it.

In doing so, the story scapegoated the childless woman. The woman who doesn’t fit. The woman who dares to define herself outside of motherhood. It punished June for being that woman, for loving a man who didn’t belong in the picture-perfect frame. For wanting more than a white-picket-fence ending. For wanting freedom, not just family.

That message, the one that first made me brave, was lost. And I’m still grieving that loss.

I chose the unconventional path. I chose the complicated love. I chose the life outside the box. And I’ve never regretted it.

So it breaks my heart that the show abandoned that message in the end. That it framed June’s deepest, most complicated love as something to let go of. That it punished her for choosing a man who didn’t “fit” the traditional mold. That it silenced the radical power of what they were together. That it refused to let her say the words we all knew were true.

I wish she had been allowed to say it out loud. To name her love. To choose it. Loudly. Proudly. Bravely.

Because sometimes being brave means not going back to what’s easy or expected. Sometimes it means loving the complicated thing. Building the messy life. Choosing the partner who sees all your darkness and stays anyway.

Atwood helped me be brave. And if you’re standing at that crossroads, I hope you will be brave too.

For the life outside the box. For the love that doesn’t make sense on paper. For the version of yourself that feels most alive.

Even if the show forgot that in the end… I won’t. And I hope you won’t either.

[gothic-mothic]

Have I ever posted my Water Narrator thoughts?

For a while, I’ve thought of the use of Water as symbolism for The Narrator, in and out of game context

I think these thoughts are most reasonable when looking at The Skip Button Ending and The Epilogue. In The Skip Button ending when The Narrator first sees a bad review they (Stanley and The Narrator) go outside to see that it’s starting to rain. This continues the duration they spend outside, The Narrator’s stirring mind evident by the distant thunder and as we get closer to the edge of the land we see a large ocean. And what rises out of it? The Narrator’s newest creation, The Skip Button. With this all happening it wouldn’t be outlandish to associate The Narrator and the water outside. Once Stanley’s inside the concrete room we are taken away from the water over time. It dries up along with The Narrator and at the end of those many years we’re left with a tundra; a desert that hasn’t seen water in years. And The Epilogue doesn’t dispute this, the only life we see being Stanley and TK

More into my personal thoughts, The Narrator is vast like the ocean we see. All encompassing; he surrounds his story (a comic I made that slightly echos these ideas).

It rains when he cries, it boils when he’s angry, the clouds fly as he breathes

I talk ab this a tiny bit more in the tags of this post (warning: he’s a bit naked) (ignore the last tag um)

[pixelatedraindrops]

Yuma Month: Day 31: Post Game

…for the sake of the world’s happiness.

[werewolfdog]

You know, I never really thought when we started working for the very first time in last November, I’d get to meet someone from work who cares about me a lot as they end up meaning so highly much to me.

[ssruis]

Going through a straight up comical amount of irritating situations to get the stupid 4* guaranteed ticket from the welcome to sekai campaign. It Will Be Mine.

[mycological-mariner]

Someone was asking me today what my middle name was and I swear I had literally forgotten? Not because I don’t use it but because I use the masc version of it because no one ever refers to me by my middle name. I was riding the crucial constanat letter trying to reverse engineer the final vowel to a nice feminine letter

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the many firsts

a/n: you have no idea how many times while writing this first instalment that i needed to take a break, if you know what i meaannn 🫠

summary: “alright, I’m sorry, geez,” Steve huffed with only a whisper of sincerity, “just come tonight, please? I mean, have you ever even been to a real party before? So how would you know that you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it? Just stop by for a second, and if it’s not for you, then you can just leave, simple as that.” 

warnings: innocent!reader x stepbro!steve rogers, frat!bucky barnes, frat!ari levinson, smut, dark content, college au, move in day at university, frat party, alcohol consumption, kissing, virgin!reader, corruption kink, voyeurism, overstimulation, first orgasm, edging, dirty talk, size kink, masturbation, handjob

word count: 8043

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

take her under your wing au masterlist | 101, intro to the au

masterlist | join my taglist 

“Thanks for the ride,” you uttered as Steve’s car finally rolled to a stop in the campus parking lot. Cracking open the passenger side door, you slipped out and trailed back to open up the trunk, “but I can do this on my own, you know,” as the lid floated up to reveal the Tetris-like stacks of both of your stuff, you glanced up at Steve as he rounded the corner of the vehicle as well, “you really don’t have to keep up your end of the deal, our parents aren’t here to see.” 

“It’s alright,” his burly arm reached over you to fish out a laundry basket stuffed to the brim with your things, “I know it was just your mom babying you as usual and whispering in my dad’s ear to get him to make me watch after you.” 

“She doesn’t baby me, she just cares, a lot…” you shot back defensively, “and I don’t need anyone to watch out for me. I’m eighteen, not seven.” 

“Oh yeah?” he let out a faint scoff, “so you wanna just haul all this junk around campus, looking for your dorm, which you have no clue where is yet?” 

Your eyes then slowly narrowed in his direction before you muttered, “…well, maybe you could give me just a bit of a hand… just in the name of saving time instead of wasting my first day getting lost.” 

And as you filled your arms with as much stuff as you could carry, Steve noted, “hey, I'm not offering to be your fucking tour guide,” as he slammed the trunk shut behind you, “don’t worry, I won’t now try to make you suddenly like me,” he spoke of the ship that sailed away a long time ago. 

Arms full, you crossed the crowded parking lot till you reached one of the open gates leading into a lush green area where little paths weaved across the lawns and connected all of the towering buildings. 

“Welcome to Highridge University,” Steve breathed as you walked under the gateway, “best fucking years of your life.” 

For so long, you had dreamt of this moment, finally being out on your own, away at college, meeting kindred spirits and sipping from the well of knowledge. Glancing around, your teeth clamped down on the smile that rapidly grew and faintly calmed the jittery nerves that still tensed up your abdomen in nauseating butterflies. 

“Where are you gonna live, again?” his glance briefly drifted to you. 

“Uh…” one-handed, you swiftly scrambled to get out the papers folded up in your pocket, “… Manning Hall, room eight,” you read out loud once you finally found the information on the crumbled piece of paper. 

“Manning, alright,” he exhaled, “I started out in Lichfield myself, but I’ve, uh–, dated a few girls who lived in Manning,” his comment promptly caused your eyes to roll in your skull before your feet began to shuffle after him as he led the way. 

As you tried to keep up with his long stride, you watched as his gaze suddenly dipped to the contents of the laundry basket he carried before something caught his eye. 

“Ah, no way,” he chuckled as he shifted the hamper to free his one arm and snatch up an item, “I can’t believe you brought this with you.” 

Glancing over, fury swiftly began to simmer in your chest as you watched him clutch the brown plush bovine visage of Chocolate Milk, an old stuffed animal of yours. 

“Hey!” you swiftly snatched the soft cow out of his hand. 

But the loss didn’t get to diminish his flame as he only spotted the others buried deeper within the basket, hidden beneath the mass of Chocolate Milk, “oh my god, there’s more!”

“Will you please stop?” you begged as he picked up both an ivory bunny and a caramel-coloured bear, “okay, fine, so I brought a few stuffed animals with me, big whoop!” you screeched in hopes that he would for once show you an ounce of mercy as this was in fact your first time being away from home, so the sense of comfort that those toys brought seemed better than if you’d begged your own mother to stay with you till you settled in. 

But even when Steve let go of the teddy bears and settled them back into the hamper, his laughter still continued to rumble in his chest, “oh, you’re so adorable, fuck…” 

His laughter had thankfully subsided by the time you reached Manning Hall. Once you’d received your key, your feet began to carry you down the long corridors in search of your new home. 

When you found the correct door, it already stood ajar, prompting you to slowly push it open before you peeked your head inside. 

On the floor, next to one of the nightstands, there sat a dark-haired girl your age, haphazardly stuffing the small drawer with some of her things. 

“Hi,” you gently tapped your knuckles against the open door before crossing the threshold. 

Glancing over her shoulder, her eyebrows floated up before she exclaimed, “oh! You must be my roommate!” before she sprang up and rushed towards you, “hey, I’m Kate,” she reached out to shake your hand. 

Setting down enough stuff to free one palm, you grasped hers and offered her a timid smile, “nice to meet you, I’m Y/n.” 

Coming in behind you, Steve bumped against your side as he squeezed his eclipsing form in through the doorway, “where do you want this shit?”

“Oh,” you tried to get out of the way before his stride tumbled you down, “on the bed is fine, I think,” you gestured to the empty one. 

Slipping in past you both, Kate then asked as he placed the hamper down on the small mattress, “is this your boyfriend?”

You nearly choked on your giggle as your wide eyes soared to stare back at her, “him? My boy–, no,” you tried your best to ignore the flutter that tingled deep within your belly at her assumption, “that’s my stepbrother. He’s just already a senior here, so we drove together.” 

“Oh,” she exhaled before her face screwed up in immediate regret, “sorry.” 

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, your stepbrother briefly glanced down at the screen before muttering, “well, I'll let you girls talk. I'm gonna go grab the rest from the car and then be on my way.” 

Offering him a small nod, your gaze shadowed him as he exited the small dorm room, your eyes only ripping away from his fading visage down the hall when Kate soon uttered, “hey, I was about to go get my student ID. You wanna join?”

“Sure,” you nodded, stuffing both of your hands in your pockets, “do you know where it is?”

“Actually, I do,” she cocked her head proudly before sharing, “my girlfriend goes here, so I’ve already been visiting this place for an entire year.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, let me readjust my grip,” the frat bro with a buzzcut wheezed to the other guy carrying the heavy beer keg. They were barely halfway up the steps that led to the fraternity’s porch as you approached. 

“Seriously?” the one that looked like a Norse god halted with a huff, “you can’t keep pausing every five seconds or we won’t get this thing inside till next year!” 

“Hi,” the quiet tone of your voice caused them to drop their squabble as both of their eyes promptly drifted directly towards you, “I’m sorry, is this the Kappa Alpha Nu house?”

“It most certainly is, gorgeous,” the blonde one let his stare take a journey down over your frame, “why? You wanna join?”

“No,” you shook your head, “I'm just looking for someone.”

“Okay,” the other one nodded, “well I'm pretty sure everyone’s inside,” his head invitingly tilted towards the open front door behind them before he added, “except for if you’re looking for Frank or Billy, they haven’t arrived yet.” 

Slipping in behind them, the entryway that met you was generous and wide, with a broad staircase off to the side that stretched up to an open landing where numerous hallways spewed forth and weaved deeper into the house. Peeking around, you first poked your head inside the living room that bloomed off to the left, though the room that met you was completely vacant. 

Though as you twisted to take your search somewhere else, a figure appeared from out of nowhere, curving around the corner, before you blindly bumped directly into the mass. 

“Ow, fuck!” he cursed before you stepped off his toes that your shoes had accidentally stomped down on in the collision.

“Shit, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going–…” your apology then promptly faded from your lips as you blinked up into the blue eyes of none other than Bucky Barnes. 

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” your stepbrother’s best friend blinked back into your wide eyes before his glance dipped down to the deep neckline of your shirt, “and since when did these stop being mosquito bites?” he teased as a smirk began to bloom on his lips. 

As you then tugged at your shirt to cover up more of your cleavage, Bucky only continued to brashly stare.  

“Do you know where Steve is?” you avoided his inappropriate comment with a roll of your eyes. 

“Yeah, he should be down any second,” his brawny arm curled up before he leaned his weight against the wall behind you, “so, how the hell are you? Taken any showers lately?” he briefly wiggled his brows, recalling the time over the summer when he had come over to hang out with his friend, only to naturally walk into your bathroom right as you were washing shampoo out of your hair. 

“I’m fine,” you sighed as your cheeks began to burn, “glad to finally have a bathroom door with a lock that actually works.” 

But then, before Bucky could torment you any further, three separate pairs of footsteps creaked on the staircase. 

“Hey, Buck,” you heard Steve call out before he reached the bottom of the steps, “did you remember to invite the Delta Phi girls tonight, because–,” his sentence then crumbled as his gaze landed upon you. Stopping in his tracks, he blinked down at you with his eyebrows harshly knitted together before his glare flickered to his friend, “what is she doing here?” 

Crossing the width of the entryway, you dipped your fingers into your pocket and said, “you forgot your phone in my room,” before you fished the device out and stretched it up towards him. 

Finally crossing over the threshold behind you, the two guys hauling the keg perked up, “already trying out the new wares on campus? Nice.”

“What?” you twisted around to glare at them, your heart suddenly thumping in your chest, “I’m his stepsister…”

“Oh…” one of the guys on the staircase beside Steve murmured before turning to utter closer to him, “this is her? Seriously?” though hushed, his voice was still loud enough for each and every person in the room to hear what he said, “that’s your stepsister?” 

The clearly lewd undertones of his cadence flew directly over your head as you then blinked up at Steve and asked, “you told them about me?”

“Oh yeah, he has,” the shaggy-haired one on the other side of your stepbrother eyed you a moment before he shifted down the last steps, “I'm Ari, president of this madhouse,” the towering man leaned against the thick bannister before he pointed out each other fraternity members surrounding him, “this is Marc, Thor, Curtis and I'm guessing you already know Bucky.”

“Yeah,” you briefly entertained Bucky and threw a glare over your shoulder at him, “our paths unfortunately crossed back in high school.” 

As your eyes fluttered back, Ari, still standing tall before you, tilted his head and asked, “you stopping by our annual beginning of the semester bash tonight?” 

“Oh,” you breathed, taken aback by the unexpected invitation, “thanks, but I don’t think I should. I have freshman assembly early tomorrow morning, and anyhow, I’m not really much of a party girl,” your fingers began to fiddle with the hem of your sleeve. 

But then, before you could share any more of your completely valid reasons, Steve spoke up, “oh, come on,” he nearly groaned, “I was told to take you under my wing, so I can’t very well stand around and let you waste away your college years just like you did back in high school.” 

“What’s wrong with how I spent those years?” you scoffed and crossed your arms across your chest. 

“Uh, you had no life, no friends, nothing,” he counted on his fingers, “you were basically a nun.” 

Throwing your hands up into the air, you exclaimed, “oh, well, I’m sorry we can’t all be the fucking prom king and go to parties every weekend without it affecting one’s GPA!” 

“Alright, I’m sorry, geez,” Steve huffed with only a whisper of sincerity, “just come tonight, please? I mean, have you ever even been to a real party before? So how would you know that you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it? Just stop by for a second, and if it’s not for you, then you can just leave, simple as that.” 

“Drinks for the beautiful ladies,” Lloyd winked as he and Bucky slithered into the cluster of sorority girls to hand out some beverages. You were leaning up against the nearby wall, shyly only having one foot into the conversation as your new roommate, who now stood with her arm around her girlfriend, Yelena, encouraged you to join in and meet everybody. 

“Fuck off, Lloyd,” the redheaded ringleader of the girls barked after she’d seized a cup from him, “I can’t deal with you tonight.”

“Still playing hard to get, I see,” Lloyd only smirked back at Natasha’s scowl. 

“Oh, I very much am not,” she uttered coldly. 

“See, every party you tell me that and every party, I don’t care. It’s part of our thing,” he briefly waved a finger between the both of them. 

“It is not part of our thing, we don’t have a thing, we will never have a thing.” 

Though his feet didn’t shift at her warning, as his stare only narrowed to a squint before he concluded, “…so what you’re saying is there’s a chance.” 

“Just leave me alone,” she threw up a hand between them to shield her from any more of his desperate attempts, “go flirt with some sad, lonely freshman.”

Though as you watched from the sidelines, you swiftly felt yourself stiffen up as Lloyd suddenly saddled up next to you and flashed you a dazzling grin, “hello… are you by any chance sad and lonely?” 

Sucking in a breath, you nervously blinked up at him, “not particularly.” 

But before the frat guy could make any other attempts, and make you that much further overwhelmed, Bucky’s palm landed on Lloyd’s shoulder before he offered him a band-aid for the rejections.  

“Hey, I think I saw those twins from Callahan’s class out on the dance floor a bit ago,” he leaned in slightly to utter over the booming music that rattled the entire frat house. 

“Really?” Lloyd gasped, promptly renewed with vigour before he darted off, leaving Bucky alone next to you.  

“He seems… nice,” you tilted your head as your gaze traced him onto the dance floor, briefly flickering to Thor behind them all as he controlled the music and put his own spin on it. 

“Ah, he’s not that bad when he’s sober,” Bucky shrugged before shifting to face you, “here,” he then held out a plastic cup for you to grasp.  

“Oh, I’m not really much of a drinker–,” you tried to protest before Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved the beverage into your hand, “oh, okay, sure,” you blinked back into his steely blue eyes as he then brought the cup up to your lips and guided you to take a large gulp. The searing sting caused you to swiftly tilt your head back down as you then coughed because of how strong it was, “oh my god, what is that?”

“Just drink it, it’ll help, trust me,” he urged as you stared down into the well of what must have been pure liquor. 

Cautiously, you took the older guy’s advice, sipping slowly as you let your gaze wander the space, though as you did, you expected Bucky to leave, but to your surprise, he didn’t shift to move away from your side, which then only caused a timid bubble to ache within your belly as your stare nervously flickered up to him, clueless as to what you should do next.  

“So…” you exhaled tensely as you tried to make conversation, “you guys do this kind of thing a lot? Throw parties here?” 

“Yeah, pretty much every weekend,” Bucky nodded after taking a sip of his own drink, “although this one in particular, the beginning of the year bash, it always gets a bit wild. Probably because we haven’t seen each other all summer long, so some years it gets a bit out of hand.” 

“Oh… like, how wild do you mean? Does it turn into a clue movie?” you half-joked. 

“No, nothing quite like that,” he chuckled at your slight terror, “although Scott did almost drown in the pool one time, so…” he shared, pointing to the man erratically shaking his thing in the centre of the dance floor, “he was fine, woke back up, but just don’t get alarmed if anyone pulls something particularly stupid before the sun comes up.”

Pursing your lips, you nodded faintly, “thanks for the tip.” 

As your gaze continued to flicker across the expansive space and the drunken students letting loose, his own stayed glued to you before you eventually heard him utter, “so, have you gotten the grand tour yet?”

“What?” your neck swiftly twisted in his direction.  

“Of the house,” he faintly gestured to the walls around him. 

“…you wanna show me around?” 

“Sure,” he shrugged, “well, I’m kinda just waiting around for it to become my team’s turn in beer pong, so I’ve got the time to kill.” 

“Oh, alright,” you breathed, your pulse suddenly picking up at the thought of wandering the halls by his side. 

“Cool,” he nodded before shifting his gaze to the room you already stood in, “so, this is the place,” he spread out an arm as if you hadn’t just been standing in this spot for twenty minutes. 

“Yeah, I already figured that one out on my own,” you chuckled briefly before the palm he slid over your lower back caused it to fade away. 

With his hold, he guided you around the corner, into the entryway, “so, the kitchen, dining room and the door to the basement are through there,” he then pointed to the different corners of the abode, “and through there is the living room and this room we use for meetings and shit.” 

He then ushered you upstairs, where barely any partygoers had ventured up. Pointing down the various long hallways, he guided your vision to the different doors all down each of them, “so, Frank, Billy, Curtis and Miguel’s rooms are down that way,” he then gestured to the opposite direction, “Scott, Thor, Lloyd, Ransom and Marc are down there,” before his feet then shifted down the last corridor, “and down here is my room,” he pointed to the closed door that had his name on it, “Steve’s, Andy’s and Ari’s.”

Though as he spoke, your eyes fluttered to the door at the end of the hallway, standing slightly ajar. The movement that caught your eye on the other side caused you to swiftly glance to Bucky with a look of alarm, though he clearly couldn’t spot it from where he was standing as he continued to chat, his voice soon fading and flying over your head as your stare wandered back towards the dark room. 

On a bed in the centre of the room, there was Ari, hovering and grunting above some blonde girl you didn’t recognise. It took a second for you to realise what they were doing, though when it sank in, a small gasp escaped your lips and caused the leader’s eye to snap up from the whimpering girl beneath him and lock with your own stare through the sliver. You wanted to look away, you knew that you should have, but you couldn’t. 

And as you stood there, paralysed and suddenly panting, a wide grin began to bloom upon his lips as he held your eye and began to roll his hips with even more force, causing the chick on the bed to nearly fall off the mattress as each thrust drove her closer and closer to the edge. 

Though as you finally managed to snap out of your trance, you nearly coughed as you scrambled to blink back to Bucky, “I’m sorry, what did you just say?” 

“I said that I’m gonna go take a leak,” Bucky cocked an eyebrow as he watched your chest rise and fall rapidly beneath your shirt, “you good?”

“Yeah,” you breathed foggily, “I think I just need a second before heading back downstairs again…”

“Oh, well, I'm sure you can go hang out in Steve’s room for a bit,” he cracked open the door behind him and gestured for you to slip inside. 

Slowly, your feet shuffled deeper into the room, the plastic cup in your hand soon resting on the windowsill as you momentarily cast your glance outside at the people down in the front yard, playing a rambunctious drinking game. 

Though as your frame sank down with an exhale to sit on the edge of the bed, your head swiftly burying itself in your hands, loud moans seeped through the wall from the other room as they crescendoed in a cacophony that caused your head to spin. 

Or perhaps it wasn’t just the lewd acts that were to blame for why you suddenly felt so dizzy. Ground unsteady beneath your feet, even though you were already sitting down, you noticed how inebriated you truly had become. Not that you had imbibed that much, but as the lightweight that you admittedly were and the minuscule experience your body had with such substances, it didn’t take much to have you feeling more molten than you ever had before. 

“What are you doing up here?” you suddenly heard, causing your face to crawl out of its hiding place in your palms. Glancing up, you saw Steve’s shadow in the doorway.  

“Steve!” you jumped slightly at his unexpected arrival, “you scared me,” you clutched your chest gently as you watched him shut the door behind him. 

Moving over towards the desk in the corner, he briefly dipped down to find a bottle of whisky that rested in the bottom drawer. Casting a glance back at you over his shoulder, his eyes narrowed as he studied your form, “did I just walk in on something?” he asked as he unscrewed the lid, “you waiting for someone to come up here and fuck you on my bed? Kinky.”

“What? N-no! Oh my god, no,” you sputtered, sensing a mortified heat rush up to your cheeks, “I swear, Bucky was just showing me around a bit, and I wasn’t ready to go back to the chaos downstairs yet, that’s all, he was the one who said it was okay for me to take a break in here.”

“Hmm… you’re still sweet on him, aren’t you?” he guessed before tilting the bottle back for a swig, “is that what was happening here? Were you waiting for him to get back? Did I just cockblock you from finally getting that stick fucked out of your ass? If so, then I feel like I have a responsibility to warn you, he is hung like a fucking horse, so don’t be discouraged if you can’t take him.” 

“I–, what?” you panted, blinking back at him wildly, “no, I’m not! I-I don’t like him, I’ve never–, what are you talking about?” 

“Chill! I’m only joking,” Steve swiftly chuckled at your perplexed panic, “I mean, not about his size, both a blessing and a curse, you know,” he cocked his head, “seriously, you don’t gotta freak out like some innocent little virgin,” he laughed, though his words only caused you to freeze up, a reaction he swiftly picked up on, “…unless you–, oh shit,” growing silent, his stare stayed glued on you as he slowly sat the bottle in his hand down upon the desk behind him, “you are, aren’t you?” 

“Well, you don’t gotta say it like that!” you groaned, keeping your eyes averted to the floor, “it’s not some terminal illness.”

“Sorry, no, I didn’t mean it like that, I just–… fuck…” he exhaled, “really?” 

“…yeah,” you nervously fiddled with the hem of your skirt as you felt the mattress dip beside you, “you know my mom has never let me date anyone…”

“What about like other stuff?” Steve’s tone tickled your hot skin as he now sat right next to you, “you’ve done that, right?” though you only managed to meekly shake your head as an answer, “really? No one’s ever like touched you before? Or you’ve played with someone else?” he pried, and you once again shook your burning face from side to side, “wow,” he exhaled, “well, then I can’t even begin to imagine how much you must masturbate, damn.”

“I–, I–…” you tried to utter, though the truth of your inexperience seemed too difficult to say out loud, rendering you to once again wobble your head. 

“Wait, seriously?” his eyebrows soared up even higher, “you haven’t that either?”

“Well, I’ve–, sort of–, I don’t know,” you stumbled, your gaze still hazy on the floor. 

“How have you done it?” he then asked, making it that much harder for you to fill up your lungs with oxygen. 

“Oh god,” you jaggedly shifted your vision to the ceiling, “this is so mortifying.”

“No, it’s okay, you can tell me,” he pushed in a gentle tone you didn’t think he had in him. 

Gnawing at your bottom lip till a metallic taste met your tongue, you hesitantly muttered, “…kinda just, I guess, sit on a pillow or a stuffed animal or something and then–…”

“Shit…” a low groan rumbled in his chest, a sound that shot straight down between your thighs and worsened the throbbing already distracting you down there, “that’s the only thing you do? You just hump your pretty little pillow till you cum?”

“Well, I don’t know if I–, uh, reach that per say, I just kind of rock till it builds and then I’ve always stopped because–, I don’t know…” you uttered, mortified that your inebriated state had nudged you to share such matters, especially with him, “it’s stupid, I know. My anatomy knowledge is great, much better than yours, I know where stuff is and how things technically work, but when I was younger, I know it’s dumb, but it all kind of scared me, like what if I did it wrong and ruined something, and I know now that statistically speaking the odds of something like that happening are really, really low, but–, yeah…” 

Steve’s eyes never left you for but a second, merely stared as you shared and eventually, after silence had swept through the room like a crisp breeze, he parted his lips and uttered, “do you want me to teach you?”

Finally, you turned your head to meet his gaze, “…you’re my stepbrother…” 

“Yeah, of a couple of years,” he had the audacity to shrug, “and for most of that time, I’ve been away at school, so like, are we really?” 

A stunned scoff then bubbled out of your throat, “our parents are married, so yes, that makes up stepsiblings.” 

“Well, for now,” he tilted his head slightly, “were you living in the same house as I was over this summer? They clearly aren’t newlyweds anymore…” he stated before leaning in closer, “so, what do you say? Will you let me help you?” your eyes flickered down to your knee as his knuckles slowly inched closer and ghosted against your skin, “I promise, it’ll feel so fucking good, you don’t even know…” he nearly whispered as if he was trying to sell you on a drug you’d instantly get addicted to. 

“I–…” you panted, “but wouldn’t it be weird that it’s you showing me?”

“No, it wouldn’t be weird at all,” his head gently shook from side to side, “unless you want me to go grab Bucky, I'm sure he wouldn’t mind either–”

“No, no!” you swiftly squeaked, “that’s not necessary,” as sharing such a secret with Steve had been bad enough, the thought of repeating the whole ordeal with someone else made you feel as if you might faint. 

“Okay,” he breathed before he slowly began to inch closer, an action you swiftly put a stop to when you pressed a palm to his chest.

“Wait, what if I don’t like it?”

“Then you just tell me, and I’ll stop,” one of his hands floated up to rest on top of your own, still pressed against him, “promise,” he offered you a reassuring smile. Steve’s glance then flickered down to your lips before his eyebrows twitched slightly as he wondered, “so, if you’ve never done any of that stuff before, does that mean you’ve also never been kissed?”

“…well, I've played spin the bottle a few times, many years ago, does that count?” you recalled the awkward pecks in your youth. 

“Not really,” the corners of his lips twitched before he asked you, “can I kiss you?”

“Can you–…” you echoed faintly before whispering, “okay,” utterly spellbound as you stared back at him, “what should I do?”

“Just relax,” he then gently grabbed each side of your face with his wide hands, “and follow my lead.” 

It simultaneously felt like an eternity as well as only the blink of an eye before Steve had closed the gap and pressed his lips to your own. At first, it was soft and slow, his right thumb briefly swiping against your cheekbone as he kissed you, but then you felt his tongue flicker forth, making you gasp, before he seized that opportunity to slip past your guard and let his tongue dance against your own, the sensation of which caused you to positively melt as you relaxed into the kiss and mirrored his efforts. 

You had no clue how much time had passed once you finally parted, and you blinked your dazed eyes back at him. 

And in your haze, he first shifted back deeper onto the bed, before he gently manoeuvred your frame to slot you in between his legs, “here, lean back against me,” he drew you closer till your back was pressed up against his chest. 

Twisting your neck to look up at him, you were still too stunned to speak, only suck in a shaky breath as he then pressed a peck to your temple. 

“You ready?” he murmured against your hairline as his hands slid down atop your own, his fingers swiftly interlocking with your smaller ones. 

“I think so,” you uttered nervously. 

“So, let’s start off with the basics,” his low voice only worsened the tingly sensation that now roared in your body like a roiling flame, “could you tell me what places you’ve explored before and where you haven’t yet?”

“…well, I guess I’ve touched most places before…” you hesitantly began, “my hands usually run all over my body when I–, you know… but I’ve never put anything inside, and I only touched my–, uhm, clit one time, a really long ago,” your confession began to make you feel so dizzy, you feared you might faint at any moment, “and it was just really intense and–, I don’t know, I was scared that it was too much, so I never tried it again, not directly anyway, just–, you know, pillows and such…” 

“Alright,” he uttered, letting go of your hands. 

Your eyes grew as they then traced Steve’s touch, first sweeping up to gently cup both of your boobs. Your cunt clenched around nothing as he briefly brushed his thumbs over the pebbles of your nipples, poking through the thin fabric of your shirt. You found yourself barely breathing when he eventually let his palms roam further south till they were at your hips, and his fingers began to hike up your skirt and let it crumble around your waist. 

“Let me see…” he murmured directly in your ear as he poked at your bent legs to pry them open, “oh my god, look at you…” you felt the deep groan vibrate in his chest as he caught sight of your panties and the embarrassingly soaked patch darkening the cotton, “you are so fucking wet…”

Steve then slowly slid his touch down over your covered core, merely cupping your lightly, though still making it near impossible for you to breathe. But your whole body twitched as he lightly curled up his hand till only the tips of his fingers still grazed you, before he then began to draw a feathery pattern of circles, tickling your deprived centre. 

“How does that feel, huh?” he kept up the ghostly touch. 

“I-it’s–, o-oh my god,” you whimpered, doubtful if you could take whatever else he’d dare to throw at you when even such a light touch managed to make you tremble, “Steve.”

Seizing his teasing, his fingers then hooked in the hem of your underwear before pulling them to the side, sticky strings of your arousal clinging to the cotton, “oh, fuck…” he groaned before his instincts overtook him and his fingers caught the waistband before ripping them down your legs till their rushed journey halted at your ankles, resting around them and loosely trapping them together. 

Pushing your legs further apart, one hand then traced your inner thigh while he hooked his other burly arm across your chest, just beneath the swell of your tits, occasionally squeezing so tightly that your boobs were pushed up even higher as he efficiently strapped you in, impossibly close to his broad chest. 

Painstakingly slow, he slid his touch closer and closer to your glistening core, till he reached the places that you never had the nerve to truly touch on your own.

“Oh, f-fuck!” you gasped as the rough pads of his fingers just lightly dragged through your folds. 

“Christ, you’re sensitive,” he kept on peeking over your shoulder as he drew a slow circle over your clit, “look at you, fucking trembling like a leaf, and I've barely touched you yet.”

“Barely?” you echoed breathlessly, “what do you mean–, how is this barely? I-I don’t know if I can–, it’s–, fuck,” you whimpered against his touch, “it’s too much,” your thighs trembled on either side of his wide palm, “I don’t know if I can take it, I think you might have to stop.” 

“No, no, no, it’s not too much, you can take it, I know you can,” he urged before he bent his strong legs and hooked them over your own, trapping your wiggly limbs and holding you down and open for him, “just trust me, I’ve got you, all you gotta do is just relax, okay? Just give into it.” 

His feathery pressure on your puffy pearl then increased, making your hips buck beneath his touch as a moan rippled out from deep within your lungs.

“Oh, fucking hell, there you go,” he smiled from behind you, “look at that little pussy, fucking crying out now that she’s finally getting some attention.”

Your fingers twitched just beneath his arm, still flexing over your ribs, and a murmur slipped out past your whimpers, “I can’t believe this is actually happening…” 

Though as Steve’s touch drove you mad, his fingers slipped down to catch some of the slick that leaked out of your untouched hole, before he went into autopilot and didn’t sweep back up to bully your glistening clit, but instead began to circle your virginal entrance. 

“No, wait,” you instantly began to freak out, “n-not there!” 

“You sure?” he let himself trace your tight opening one last time, “alright, maybe next time then…” 

Once his fingers had swept back up and focused in on your puffy pearl, rolling it firmly beneath his touch, you felt your body reach the agonising point where you’d always chicken out. 

“Steve, I–”

“Hm?” he hummed in your ear and kept up his efforts, surely feeling your clit throb beneath his fingers, “you getting close?”

“I-I–,” you gasped, trying your best to fight the feeling, “this is usually when I stop.” 

“Oh yeah?” you could plainly hear the smirk on his lips. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, staring down at his efforts that barely even paused. 

“So, this is what you’d do, huh? You’d ride your pillow and then just stop?” as he uttered that last word, he abruptly took his hand away, “just leave yourself all edged and needy?” your hips bucked after his fading touch, “that’s usually something I’d do to my girls just to be a menace and make them all dumb and desperate, but that’s just what you do to yourself all of the time?” your whole frame quivered against him as you weakly tried to grab for his hand, even as he brought it completely out of your reach, “damn, gotta admit, wish I had known that earlier… I could have sneaked into your room afterwards and lent a hand, helped you go all the way. That’s what you needed, wasn’t it? You just needed your big bro to come in and hold your hand through it because you got scared? It’s okay, I’m here now, I’ve got you, big brother’s got you.”

“You’re not my brother–” 

“Damn right, I’m not,” he nearly chuckled before he began to touch you once again, rendering any retort you had lined up to fly straight out of the window as shaky moans instead flowed from your lungs.

Though the cruel pause had given your body enough time to calm down just a tad, it barely took any time at all for Steve to push you back towards that intimidating ledge and hold you there as you peeked over the edge. 

“Steve, I don’t know if I can–, it’s–” 

“Baby, it’s okay, you can do it,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “just trust me, it’ll feel so fucking good, you don’t even know,” the hand he had plastered against your ribs slid up to grasp one of your tits, denting the softness with his long fingers, “just let it happen, relax.” 

Shaking uncontrollably, your face tilted to hide in the bulk of his arm as the most blinding and overwhelming sensation you’d ever felt in your entire life rippled through your form, white-hot pleasure in a dose that you hadn’t thought imaginable.

“Oh, there you go, fuck,” he moaned and tried to draw your very first orgasm out as long as he could, “atta girl, that’s it.” 

When his movements finally stopped, his messy hand slipped down to rest against your twitching thigh, hazy whimpers ever flowing from your lungs as you reeled in the staggering sensation. 

“Holy shit…” you eventually managed to pant shakily. 

“Told you it’d feel good,” he uttered cockily before pressing a kiss to your temple. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as he then began to caress your thigh gently, sweeping his touch up and down the goosebump-ridden flesh till your breathing began to slow. 

But then as you felt yourself relax even further back against him, wiggling slightly to get more comfortable, you noticed something hard poking your back. Assuming that it was something in his pocket, you shifted once again, but still couldn’t escape it, though with each of your squirming attempts, a low groan was conjured deep within Steve’s chest.

“What is that?” you then muttered, “is it your phone? Could you take it out of your pocket?”

“No, it’s not my phone,” he couldn’t help but chuckle at your innocence, swiftly causing you to freeze up, “you got me hard.”

Gasping loudly as if he hadn’t just had his hand on your pussy, you shot up to a sitting position and swiftly crawled around to direct your wide eyes straight at him. Skirt falling down to cover you back up, your panties however still remained around your ankles as you shifted to kneel on the bed before him. 

“Oh my god,” the stunned expression plastered all over your face caused him to melt, “you’re so cute…” 

Blinking back at him, you stammered, “that was–… you’re–…” 

“Hard? Yeah,” he casually uttered, “kinda impossible not to be after what just happened,” he let his hand drift down to palm himself through his pants, guiding your vision to flutter down as well to finally look at the prominent bulge that strained against the zipper of his jeans. And as his touch slowly rubbed against the mouthwatering hardness, teasingly squeezing it for an ounce of relief, his head then cocked as he continued to stare at you, “can I ask you something?”

Downright hypnotised as you stared down at the overwhelming display of his arousal, you only managed to hum as a reply, “mhm,” as you stayed transfixed on the clothed hardness that somehow both terrified and exhilarated you at the same time. 

“Have you ever seen a cock before?”

Meeting his unwavering gaze, you blinked, “…in textbooks and stuff…”

“How about up close?” he asked and you swiftly shook your hazy head, “you wanna see mine?”

“I–… what?” 

“Do you wanna see mine?” 

“U-uh…” you could barely think as you felt the sore sensitivity between your unsteady thighs somehow blossom back into the same agonising tingles that had taken hold of you before, “okay.” 

A sharp breath filled your lungs as you watched him free his dick. Your eyes swiftly grew even wider as he enveloped the hand, still glistening with your juices, around the fat girth. Slick and sloppy sounds filled the room with every leisurely stroke as he began to slowly jerk himself, your thighs unconsciously squeezing together at the show. 

“You good?” he chuckled lightly at the way your eyes had gone glassy. 

“Mhm…” you foggily nodded, struggling to grasp onto even a single thought, “it’s–… a lot bigger than I imagined…” 

“Have you been imagining what my cock looked like?” he relentlessly teased. 

“No, no, I mean, just in general,” you fumbled over your words as he kept up his silky strokes, “yours is bigger than I imagined them to be in real life.” 

“You wanna touch it?”

“…t-touch?” your eyes fought to blink back up and lock with Steve’s own. 

“Yeah, come on,” he then grabbed your hand and brought it towards his length. At first, he let you just graze your fingertips against his dick, guiding your touch as he slowly dragged it across the velvety skin, all the way from the bulbous head, glistening with shiny precum that beaded at the tip, to the fat base where his heavy balls bloomed beneath. 

“Oh–,” you swallowed as he then wrapped your fingers around his girth before engulfing them with his own broad hand, still shiny from your wetness, “it’s–, really hard.”

“Yeah, well that’s what you do to me, baby,” he smiled as he tightened his fist around your own, though even so, his girth was still too big for your own fingers to meet on the other side, “this is all for you…” 

His free hand then grabbed your chin before he ravenously pressed his lips to your own, kissing you fiercely as he began to move your hand and guide your touch over his throbbing length. 

Eventually, as you broke from the kiss, you peeped down at his cock, tight in your grasp. 

His fingers kept on clutching your chin, holding you close, as he then purred, “here, like this,” his wide hand flexed around your smaller one, “a little tighter, don’t be scared, you won’t hurt me–, yeah,” he then moaned as you obeyed his command, “fuck, that’s it…” briefly letting his eyes flutter closed as he breathed through the pleasure. Though as he blinked his gaze back open, his broad thumb brushed against your knuckles as he asked, “you wanna try on your own?”

“O-okay,” you uttered before his guiding touch faded and you timidly tried to emulate his efforts, “like this?”

“Yeah, that’s good,” he groaned as you slowly slid your careful touch up and down the length of his cock, “shit, you’re a natural, baby,” his fingers that clutched your chin briefly shifted before his thumb poked up to brush the pad against your bottom lip, “keep going like that and I’ll blow in no fucking time.” 

“Oh,” you swiftly ripped your stare away from his dick as you misunderstood his words, “should I stop then?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” he growled before claiming your lips once again, not holding back in the slightest as he let the kiss grow sloppy and desperate. 

Rejoining his touch to your own, he began to speed up your actions, making you stroke his thick girth even faster than before. And as he tilted away from the greedy kiss, a glossy string of saliva still kept you both connected. 

Panting as he neared the finish line, he cast a brief glance down at his fat cock slick in both of your hands, before he threw his head back and moaned loudly as he unravelled at your touch. 

“Fuck…” he panted as he let go of your palm, now sticky with his hot load just as his own hand was as well. Chest still rising and falling rapidly, he caught your frame and tugged you even closer, “come here,” he murmured as he pulled you into a limp hug. 

“Was that okay?” you asked in a small voice as you curled into his chest. 

Catching your jaw, he tilted your head back enough for you to catch his eye before he uttered, “that was fucking perfect,” and he kissed you once again. As he drew back, his gaze lingered, eventually fluttering down towards your lips before he brought his fingers up towards them, still messy with both your nectar as well as his own load, “open up.”

“What?” your brows knit together as you blinked down at the sticky digits he ghosted against your lips, tilting your head back slightly in confusion. 

“Give it a taste.” 

“Why would I do that?” you nearly laughed. 

“Because it’s normal,” the older guy told you, “most people love cleaning up after their messes, so you probably do too.”

“Seriously?” 

“I shit you not,” he said, though you kept on staring back at him in doubt, “what, do you want me to prove it to you? Fine,” he then extended his thumb for him to suck it clean, “there,” he released the dinger from his lips with a pop, “now it’s your turn,” he twisted his hand back down towards your mouth. 

And hesitantly, you found yourself parting your lips for him, “there you go…” he groaned as he slipped two of his long fingers inside your mouth, “see? Tastes good, doesn’t it?” his gaze stayed transfixed upon your lips wrapped around his messy digits as he slowly let himself shift his fingers, greedily fucking your face for a bit, “shit…” he cursed as you licked them clean and he pulled them back out, a murmur swiftly slipping from his lips as he continued to stare, “I can’t wait to train this little mouth to do all sorts of tricks…” 

“What?” you asked as your mind began to scramble for the meaning. 

“Oh, nothing,” he sighed and ignored your naiveté before he pulled you back in for another hug, “nothing at all, sis…”

© 2025 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[roturo]

SUCCESSOR -`♡´-

summary: He believes he’s going to die soon, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable. He needs a successor. And soon.

warnings: A LOT of breeding, smut, unprocteted sex, overstimulation, multiple rounds, pwp, tummy buldge, mentions of cum, mating press, virgin!L, obssesed!L, mentions of forming a family, not proof read and sleepy while writing this. and more.

a/n: ik this is going to have as much support as my other works, but it's def one of my best and favs writings, so please show me your support with a comment and reblog! it means a lot for me!

You've been part of the task force for a while now, ever since L handpicked you for his elite team. As a regular member, you've earned your place and trust within the group. The necessity of keeping your identity hidden has diminished, thanks to the expanding team, but you still opt for an alias during meetings, maintaining a veil of secrecy around your true connection to L.

L’s mind is a labyrinth, each thought of a winding path leading to an unknown destination. His strategies are always a step ahead, his deductions razor-sharp. Yet, despite his brilliance, one specific thought has been haunting him lately:

He believes he’s going to die soon.

This isn't a paranoid delusion but a calculated assessment. L understands the immense dangers tied to the Kira case. The complexity of the situation has grown, and he suspects an external force at play, one that eludes even his grasp. This unknown entity has shifted the balance, making the case more perilous than ever.

L is determined not to let his legacy end prematurely. He has dedicated his life to solving the world’s most challenging mysteries, and the idea of leaving the Kira case unfinished gnaws at him. The thought of his legacy fading away too soon is unbearable.

He needs a successor.

And soon.

Finding someone who can match his intellect and tenacity is no simple task. The successor must be able to understand his intricate methods, to carry on his relentless pursuit of justice. The urgency of this mission weighs heavily on him, as he prepares to identify and groom the next guardian of his legacy.

You were the perfect match for him, and his calculations confirmed it. There was an 86% probability that having a child with you would result in someone with a higher IQ than his own, combined with the social skills he lacked. In the realm of interpersonal relationships, L was inexperienced, never having had a relationship or intimacy before. Recently, he had been contemplating how to propose this idea to you.

Should he ask you outright? Should he try to make you fall in love with him first? No, this wasn't about love. It was a precaution, a step in his investigation, a way to ensure his legacy continued if the worst were to happen.

The atmosphere in the headquarters was tense as always, the dim lighting casting long shadows across the room. You sat at your desk, engrossed in your work, when L’s quiet footsteps approached. His presence was magnetic, his aura of mystery and intellect always palpable. He paused beside you, his gaze fixed on the monitors displaying the latest updates on the Kira case.

“Can we talk?” His voice was soft, almost hesitant, a rare departure from his usual confident demeanor.

You looked up, surprised by the uncharacteristic uncertainty in his tone. “Of course, L. What’s on your mind?”

He shifted, glancing around the room as if searching for the right words. “There’s something I need to discuss with you. It’s… personal.”

Your curiosity piqued, you nodded, giving him your full attention. “I’m listening.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting yours. “You’re aware of the importance of my work, of the dangers we face daily. The Kira case has made me realize that I must consider contingencies I hadn’t thought of before.”

You nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“There’s a… statistical analysis I’ve conducted,” he said, his voice becoming more clinical as he explained. “It suggests that if I were to have a child with someone of your intelligence and social capabilities, the child would have a higher IQ than mine and possess the social skills I lack. This could be crucial in continuing my work if anything were to happen to me.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a ton of bricks. L, always methodical and rational, had approached this highly personal matter with the same analytical mindset he used to solve cases. You could see the logic in his plan, yet the implications were overwhelming.

“So, you want me to… have a child with you?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes unwavering. “But understand, this is not about emotions or personal desire...I think” He whispers to himself before he continues– “It’s a precaution, a part of my contingency planning. I’ve never experienced a relationship or intimacy, so I’m uncertain how to approach this.”

The room seemed to close in around you as you processed his request. It was a cold, calculated proposition, yet it carried a weight of vulnerability and trust. L was placing his future, his legacy, in your hands.

“How do you expect this to work, L?” you asked, your voice tinged with both curiosity and trepidation.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted, his facade of invincibility cracking slightly. “I’ve considered different approaches. Should I simply ask you directly? Should I try to make you fall in love with me first? But this isn’t about love. It’s about ensuring that if I am no longer here, someone capable can continue my work.”

A silence fell between you, heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions. L’s eyes searched yours, looking for understanding, perhaps even acceptance. You could see the conflict within him, the struggle between his logical mind and the unfamiliar territory of human connection.

“I need time to think about this,” you finally said, your voice gentle but firm.

L nodded, a flicker of relief crossing his features. “Of course. Take all the time you need. This is not a decision to be made lightly.”

Finally, you made your decision.

One evening, you found L in his usual spot, hunched over his laptop, eyes glued to the screen. The dim light cast shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity of his focus. Taking a deep breath, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“L,” you said softly, breaking the silence. He looked up, his piercing gaze meeting yours.

“I’ve thought about what you asked,” you continued, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “And I agree.”

For a moment, L simply stared at you, processing your words. Then, slowly, he nodded, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of his desk. “Understood. Thank you for your cooperation.”

You took a seat across from him, the air between you charged with a new sense of purpose. “How do we proceed?”

L leaned back, his thumb brushing his bottom lip in thought. “We need to ensure this doesn’t disrupt our work or compromise the investigation. The task force must not be aware of our personal connection, as it could create complications.”

You nodded, understanding the delicate balance that needed to be maintained. L’s expression remained impassive, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes. “I must admit that emotional connections are not my area of expertise. This will be… a learning experience.  Should… we do it tonight?”

“Ah- Ah- Slow down, L-Lawliet!” you gasped, your voice breaking with a mix of pleasure and urgency.

L’s thrusts were sloppy but fast, driven more by instinct than experience. His movements lacked rhythm, a clear sign of his inexperience. He had come twice already without withdrawing from you, his body responding purely on primal urges.

He had done his research, concluding that a mating press might be the most effective position for this purpose. But he never anticipated how overwhelmingly good it would feel. Was it like this with everyone? Or was it something unique because it was you?

His thrusts grew more erratic, almost desperate. Small whines escaped his mouth, each one tinged with your name like a prayer. You could feel every twitch, every movement inside you, the raw intensity of his desire almost too much to bear.

“L,” you whispered, trying to regain some control. “You need to… slow down.”

He nodded, a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead. “I’m trying,” he panted, his voice unsteady. “It’s just… so overwhelming.”

His usually sharp, calculating mind seemed lost in the haze of sensation. Every thrust, every brush of skin against skin, was a new experience for him. You could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle between maintaining control and giving in to the raw pleasure.

He moaned at the familiar, overwhelming sensation of climaxing again, and you could feel your own release approaching. The intensity was almost unbearable when he grabbed a pillow and slipped it under your back, angling you into an even deeper mating press. His thrusts became more deliberate, his cock somehow reaching deeper, hitting your g-spot with precision over and over again.

The pleasure was so intense, so all-consuming, that all you could do was chant his name like a mantra, each syllable a prayer of ecstasy. “L-Lawliet,” you breathed, your voice trembling with the force of your impending climax.

He watched you with dark, hungry eyes, his own pleasure driving him to thrust harder, faster. “S-shit,” he gasped, his breath hitching, “I think—” His words dissolved into a whine as he came again inside you, his release flooding your womb with a desperate, addictive need.

This wasn’t just about producing a successor anymore. It was about the raw, primal satisfaction of filling you over and over again. He was captivated by the sight of your bodies joined, the way your mixed arousal leaked from where you were connected, glistening in the dim light.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your own climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, milking every last drop of his release as he continued to thrust, his movements erratic and needy.

He whimpered, the sound vibrating through his chest as he pressed his forehead against yours, his dark hair falling in a messy curtain around your face. “You feel… incredible,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion and exertion.

He groaned before pressing his lips to yours, the kiss deep and fervent. His cock remained erect inside you, pulsing with an insatiable desire. The feeling of having you this close, of being connected so intimately, was overwhelming. In that moment, he lost all sense of reason and the initial purpose behind his actions.

His mind, usually so sharp and focused on the Kira case, was now clouded with visions of a future he never thought he'd consider. He imagined how adorable you would look, carrying his child, a baby with his eyes and your smile. The idea of having a family with you consumed him, pushing all thoughts of logic and strategy aside.

Without realizing it, he began thrusting again, the movement instinctual and desperate. Each thrust was deliberate, fulfilling the small bump of cum inside you that was already visible through your tummy. He watched in awe, fascinated by the sight of your bodies joined so intimately, the tangible evidence of his desire and your shared pleasure.

“L-Lawliet,” you gasped against his lips, your hands clutching his shoulders as he moved within you. “What... what are you thinking?”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking about us. About a future I never allowed myself to dream of.” His voice was rough with emotion, a raw edge that you rarely heard.

Your heart swelled at his words, the vulnerability in his usually composed demeanor striking a chord deep within you. “Lawliet,” you whispered, your fingers tracing the contours of his face. “I never imagined… I never thought you’d want this.Want me”

“I didn’t either,” he admitted, his thrusts growing more purposeful. “But now, with you, that's all I can think about. The idea of you carrying my child, of us having a family…you in general… it’s overwhelming.”

He kissed you again, more gently this time, savoring the softness of your lips against his. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through you, the sensation heightened by the emotional intensity of the moment. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve, every detail.

“Do you… do you want this too?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.

“Yes,” you breathed, the admission freeing a weight you hadn’t realized you were carrying. “I want this. I want us.”

His eyes darkened with a mix of relief and desire, and he kissed you harder, his movements inside you becoming more urgent. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, each moan and gasp a testament to the bond growing between you.

As he continued to thrust, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within you, each movement pushing you closer to the edge. He seemed to sense it too, his rhythm intensifying as he chased his own release.

“Lawliet,” you cried out, your climax hitting you with the force of a tidal wave. Your body tightened around him, every nerve ending alight with sensation.

He groaned, his own release following closely behind, filling you once more. The feeling was addictive, the raw intimacy of it all-consuming. He held you close, his forehead resting against yours as you both caught your breath.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he whispered mostly to himself, his voice filled with wonder.

“Neither can I,” you replied, your heart pounding in sync with his. “But it feels right. It feels perfect.”

He nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “It does.”

You stayed entwined like that, savoring the afterglow and the newfound depth of your connection. The Kira case and the outside world faded into the background, replaced by the warmth of each other’s presence and the promise of a future together.

Eventually, as the reality of your situation began to seep back in, you knew you had to return to your duties. But the bond you had forged would remain, a source of strength and comfort in the days to come.

As L gently pulled out and helped you adjust, he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure this out,” he said softly in a small whisper. “Together.”

“Together,” you echoed, your heart filled with a certainty that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them side by side.

[luniviravosshipper]

They are literally reflections of each other. And not only that, they are also quite literally connected via the ritual.

Now considering the speculation surrounding Callum’s dark counterpart just being Aaravos and the basically confirmed fact that Aaravos gifted dark magic to humans as a means of control and how he could be connected to the dreams they have when they first attempt dark magic as a result, I especially cannot get over the fact that Viren was able to reconnect with his past self through the dark magic dream sequence he had.

And through the same fucking mirror too.

[elstattoo]

Cold & Wet

MDNI, MEN DNI

Summary: You go to a lesbian bar with Ellie and find out she has more than a few surprises up her sleeve.

WC: 4.3k

Content: 18+, car sex, fingering(r receiving), head (r receiving), praise,

Author’s Note: Finally finished this!!! I need more Ellie Williams… if possible 🙏

Normally, you weren’t the type to get love-struck, but Ellie Williams had that effect. Her presence alone stole your breath away. Both anticipation and warmth coursed through you, an unfamiliar mix of emotions for you.

Dina was the one who introduced you and Ellie, that night at the party, and you had no idea how you managed to score a date with her. It was a miracle, indeed, considering how popular Ellie was with girls.

You recalled that night vividly, the way she gulped down her drink, her tongue darting out to lick the remaining drops from her lips. Her eyes met yours, as she mumbled, “Hey… do you want to… I don’t know… hangout sometime?

There was a hint of nervousness in her voice, and a blush was visibly on her cheeks. It was quite endearing how she seemed uncertain as if you would say no to her.

A grin spread across your lips, “Yeah! That sounds.. really nice, Ellie.” You tried to sound as casual as possible, but you knew you failed miserably. The excitement was obvious on your face.

Seeing Ellie, private outside of the party? That would be so much more intimate. You could see the relief on her face as you accepted her invitation, and the small smile that moved across her face made your heart flutter.

“It’s a date then,” Ellie muttered. Your heartbeat sped up, it felt like it was trying to escape your rib cage from how fast it was beating.

Your eyes met, and you shared a silent moment of understanding and connection. You couldn't help but bite your lip as you stared at her, trying to contain your excitement.

You nodded to her words, your voice coming out slightly shaky as you spoke. "I'm looking forward to it," you admitted. There was no hiding the eagerness in your voice, and you knew that she could see right through you.

So, you find yourself a few nights later, staring at yourself in the mirror for what feels like the hundredth time. You could feel your heart racing as your eyes gazed over your appearance. You look amazing, but the anticipation of this date was gnawing on you, and your hands felt warm and clammy.

This is all you thought about all week and you didn’t want to ruin it, so you took a deep breath. But, it was not used because it felt as if your stomach was twisting into knots.

A sudden ding from your phone brought you out of your thoughts, you saw notifications flash across your screen from none other than Ellie.

Ellie: i’m here

Ellie: where are you? 🙂‍↕️

Ellie: sorry, this apartment complex of urs got me confused asf

The messages made you giggle, so then you took a moment to compose yourself by taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly. Your palms were sweaty as you made your way to meet Ellie at her car. As you approached, exited your house, and made your way towards her car, she waved at you, opening the passenger side door for you.

Your heart swelled at her action, simple, yet so sweet. She gently closed the door before making her way to the driver’s side and getting in.

Ellie’s eyes landed on you, sitting in her car. “I’m really happy I get to take you out, ya know. I’ve wanted to…,” her cheeks heated up and she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, “to.. take you out for a while.” She finally admitted.

This had you breathless. Ellie Williams wanted to take you out for a while? That means, she has been attracted to you and also had wanted you, like you wanted her for way too long.

Whenever you saw Ellie in passing, you found her so attractive. Her captivating presence and aura made her all the more special, which made you want to explore whatever this was. Your heart leaps in your chest, you don’t want to jump the gun on being hopeful. But you couldn’t help it.

“Well…” you mumbled, “I’m incredibly glad you asked. I’m still shocked you did.”

Ellie’s eyes widened a bit before she chuckled. “Babe.. you really shouldn’t be shocked,” her eyes ranked over your body, taking you in before speaking again, “You’re so hot, nothin’ to worry about.”

Her boldness caught you off guard and you had to hold back a giddy smile from stretching across your face. Fuck. Does she realize the effect she has on you?

Both yours and Ellie’s eyes met quickly, before she started the car. “You’re really… attractive, Ellie. This feels like a dream,” you truly were breathtaking whispering that to her, she couldn’t believe she had you here.

To you, everything truly felt surreal for you in this moment and Ellie felt the same. Both of you were in the same wondrous boat, two lesbians who were shamelessly giddy over one another.

Ellie’s tongue quickly darted over her lips, her focus now on the road and not ogling over you. “Well, this isn’t a dream. I’m glad because I get to take your fine ass out.”

She signaled before, turning the wheel of the car onto the road. Ellie earned a giggle out of you at her words, the sound causing her eyes to side glance to you, again. She couldn’t help herself.

You thought you were dreaming? Ellie felt as though she was, hearing that sound come out of your mouth.

With one hand gripping the wheel, her right arm passed over to grip your thigh, the tattoo flexing on her forearm. She clutched the fat of your thigh. Boldness growing over her, she smirked to herself when she heard your breath hitch at the feeling.

This was the first time Ellie had ever touched you that way, and it sent you wanting more than her just touching your plush, thick thighs. You shivered the creeping thoughts away, focusing on the moment.

Your hand grazed over hers that lay on your thigh, you ran your fingers slightly over her hand. Ellie felt like fireworks exploded feeling your smaller fingers against hers.

She smiled to herself, her grip on your thigh lessening and she just laid it there. You glanced down, intertwining her now empty hand with yours.

Ellie felt the warmth of your hand around hers, her hand held yours together more closely. Feeling her tighten her hand slightly, you looked down at your interlocked hands and felt your heart tug. Your whole body felt so warm, even from just holding her hand. It was electrical.

You’ve had girlfriends, flings, and more in the past, but none of them made you feel the way Ellie had. She even had you that way just from handholding.

The rest of the ride to the bar was quiet, the radio quietly buzzing tunes while you held Ellie’s hand the rest of the way. She gave you soft squeezes now and then until the car slowed and pulled into an unfamiliar parking lot.

Outside the windshield, you read a sign that was lit up in bright pink letters ‘Saffy’s Sapphic Bar.’ You started in awe, this bar is one you’re never been to.

“Is this new?” You whispered, still gawking out the window at the big black building with gorgeous writing.

“Yeah! It’s the first lesbian bar in our area that’s not like 30 minutes away,” Ellie laughed. She, unfortunately, removed her hand from yours and turned the keys out of the ignition. “You okay with being here?”

You turned your body towards her, “Duh! It’s a lesbian bar, we’re going to have a lot of fun.

A smile tugged at the corners of Ellie's lips as she heard your words, and her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Let's get inside, babe," she suggested, her voice dripping with charm.

The affectionate nickname sent a rush of butterflies fluttering through your chest, making your heart pound furiously against your ribcage as if it were trying to break free from its confines.

The way she continued to call you endearments, and each one sent a wave of heat coursing through you, leaving you feeling both flustered and exhilarated.

You nodded in agreement, feeling a surge of affection course through your body as Ellie quickly exited the car and made her way to your side. Before you could even react, she had the passenger side door open for you and the gesture made your heart skip a beat. Once you stepped out of her car, Ellie grabbed your hand, gently lacing your fingers through hers.

Her touch sends a wave of warmth through your entire body. The simple act of holding your hand made you feel safe, cared for, and utterly more captivated by her. Your attraction somehow deepens, if possible.

Ellie felt the way you shivered for a minute and gave your hand two gentle squeezes. You squeezed back, “Thank you for taking me here, Els.”

“Of course, now let’s go,” she stepped forward and you felt your hand tugged in tow with the movement. You giggled as you felt your hand being pulled along her with every movement. As you caught up to her stride, you heard her voice, warm and soothing, as she said, “Atta, girl.”

The praise and affection in her tone, made you suddenly feel aroused. You weren’t expecting Ellie to be one to praise, especially now and here of all places. She was full of surprises.

You walked side by side to the door of the bar. Ellie opened the door, still holding your hand and she waited for you to walk in, before following in after you. She didn’t want you to sit there and have you holding her hand, uncomfortably.

As if you could be uncomfortable holding her hand…

The bar was dim, candles aligning the bar, the small dance floor had people dancing around, and there were small tables and chairs, throughout the room for people.

You took the lead, grabbing Ellie’s hand more firmly as you steered her in the direction of the bar, feeling a sudden urge to quench your nerves with a drink.

Ellie easily caught onto your intentions and laughed, “Someone’s eager to get a drink.” She let you guide her towards the bar counter.

One of the bartenders saw you approaching and smiled, “Hey ladies! What can I get started for you?”

You thought for a second before speaking, “Can I get for starters one shot of Tequila and then after a Margarita, please?”

“Of course, hun!” The bartender chirped, then looked at Ellie, “And for you?”

“I'll take a cold beer, please," Ellie muttered, her focus more on you than the bartender. It wasn't intentional, but rather a natural reaction to the way the lighting highlighted your features and made your body look even more mesmerizing. Her focus on you was completely involuntary, and she couldn't help the way her eyes kept lingering all over you.

The bartender nodded and smiled to herself before preparing yours and Ellie’s drinks.

“So after we drink a little,” you pointed a finger playfully on her chest, “we need to dance!” You giggled, the atmosphere of the bar was so nice and inviting.

The dance floor was a vibrant mix of movement and sound, with people dancing and chatting with each other all around. As the music boomed from the DJ’s setup, colorful lights flickered behind the bodies of dancing people, casting a kaleidoscope of light and shadow upon the floor. Around you, the atmosphere became infectious and your body urged to move with the music in the very air around you.

“Here you go, ladies!” The bartender replied, setting your drinks down on the counter.

“Thank you,” you responded with a small smile as you took your shot. A small wince escaped your lips as the liquid met your tongue, however the warm and smooth sensation that followed as the liquid traveled down your throat was soothing, and you felt relief wash over you.

The taste of alcohol wasn’t your favorite, but the effect of it was undeniable. You were grateful for the temporary escape it provided from the nerves that previously had been coiled within you since the night began.

Ellie took a sip of her beer, and you felt a brief moment of disappointment as her hand left yours. However, she remained close by your side, not wanting to create distance between the two of you. Ellie glanced over your features as you took a sip from your Margarita.

Before you could dance, you slid your car towards the bar tenders and left her a cash tip of $10. You smiled at her when she handed the car back, you waved to her before focusing on Ellie.

“Want to go dance, now?” You questioned.

Ellie inhaled for a second, glancing at the dance floor, then took another sip of her beer. She nodded quickly, “Yeah, let’s go.”

You both placed your drinks on a nearby surface, and you couldn’t help but suggest you dance together. The idea had been in your head since you got there, but the idea seemed to intimidate Ellie. A mix of emotions flashed across her face both of excitement and nervousness.

You could see the hint of nervousness in her eyes, but at the same time, there was a spark of excitement in them. Her freckled cheeks were flushed in the lights, and she gulped. She felt like a deer in headlights for a brief moment, before you grabbed her hand and pulled her towards the dance floor.

Ellie’s eyes widened, your body moving in ways she didn’t think you would. She could see you feeling yourself in the music, slowly moving your hips against hers… and suddenly she forgot about being nervous because… fuck.

Here you were, swaying your hips, basically grinding against her and you looked stunning. The makeup you wore brought out your features so effortlessly, and the lighting of the bar… God, it made you look like an angel in Ellie’s eyes. To say you were irresistible is true.

Ellie allowed her body to give in and move to the music, you hummed feeling her hands wrap around your hips suddenly. You looked over your shoulder to see Ellie shoot you a smile, you felt the movement of her body moving with yours.

It was hot, the way you both moved together so effortlessly to the music. You turned around to face her, no longer wanting to see her face.

Ellie didn’t stop dancing, holding you close as she continued to move both of you in a slow but rhythmic manner. Her hand moved up to cup your cheek, her gaze locked onto yours, filled with affection and desire.

As you leaned into her gentle touch, relishing in the warmth of her hands on your skin, you could sense her eyes flicking down to your lips. Your tongue darted out, wetting your lips.

With a soft groan, she gently scolded you, “Babe, you can’t do that. I want to kiss you.” Her words were filled with both pleading and desire, the eye contact she held with you while saying that had your knees buckling.

“Then kiss me,” you teased. Before you could utter another word, Ellie eagerly leaned down and captured your lips in a firm, needy kiss.

Your eyes shut automatically as you reciprocated the kiss, savoring every moment of her lips pressed against yours. You didn’t want this to stop, and when Ellie’s tongue gently begged for entry, you willingly opened your mouth. Her tongue glided against yours in a passionate dance, you felt a cold sting of metal.

Wait a second… does she have a fucking tongue piercing? You moaned softly at the feeling, the intensity of the moment only growing stronger as you lost yourselves in the kiss.

Ellie’s hands descended to your waist, pulling you even closer, which deepened the kiss. You responded by wrapping your arms around her neck, your fingers idly playing with the hairs at the back of her head. The closeness was electrifying, sending shivers down your spine as she pulled back from the kiss.

Both of you were panting from the heated kiss, your chest was rising and falling. Ellie gave your waist a gentle squeeze, her firm grip on you was both possessive and hot at the same time.

Your body responded to her touch as if her hands were leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The alcohol coursing through your veins fueled your courage and emboldened your actions. The heat of her touch was almost more intoxicating than the alcohol itself, and you craved more of Ellie.

“When were you going to tell me you had a tongue piercing?” You panted out, twisting a strand of her hair between your fingers. Ellie smiled, a toothy grin appearing across her face.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises,” her voice was low, her lips hovering over yours, mere inches apart.

“Yeah? Guess you should show me,” your voice sweet like honey. It was a clear invitation, so Ellie closed the short distance between you two.

You were caught off guard by the unexpected moan that escaped Ellie's lips, the sound muffled against your own as your tongue sucked on hers. The noise sent a surge of heat straight to your core, making you ache for more.

In response, one of your hands moved up to cup her face, pulling her closer as you tried to deepen the kiss, desperation and need coursing through your body. The air around you thickened with desire, and you knew you wanted more - much, much more.

Ellie pulled back, breaking the passionate connection between your lips, a thin strand of saliva linking you for a brief moment before it snapped. You couldn’t help but whine at the loss of contact, your body craving her. Ellie looked at you, her green eyes darkened with sheer desire, and she asked, “Let’s go back to my car, yeah?”

You noticed the huskiness in her voice, and you wondered if she was just as needy as you. Either way, the proposition sent a thrill down your spine.

Your head eagerly nodded to her words, Ellie smirked a bit at your eagerness but understood. She clasped your hand in hers, before dragging you to the doorway of the bar. You felt as though you were on cloud nine, the giddiness of the whole situation settling in.

When you both exited the building, you felt the cold air hit you. You sighed softly, enjoying the coolness on your skin vs how hot it was only moments ago.

As you and Ellie neared her car, you expected her to open the passenger side door for you, but instead, the backdoor was open. Your eyebrows furrowed, confusion obvious on your face.

“Why the-“ you let out a squeal, caught off guard when Ellie lifted you and plopped you into her backseat.

“Wanna kiss you some more, can’t do it well sitting elsewhere,” Ellie mumbled as she pulled herself into the car and closed the door behind her.

“Are you okay with this?” Her arm reached out to your shoulder, eyes looking into yours. She needed confirmation you were okay with this.

“Of course, please do something, Els,” you begged.

Ellie’s body inched closer to yours, yearning to touch you finally in the privacy of her car. Her tattooed arm flexed as she grabbed one of your thighs, giving it a firm squeeze.

The whine you let out was swallowed by her lips, the two of you exchanging quick and hot pecks. As the kisses grew hotter, Ellie’s hand traveled to your ass. She grabbed the fat of your ass in her hand, savoring the feeling of how it felt in her hands.

Ellie was completely mesmerized by how your delicate skin felt against her rough skin. It didn’t help when her tongue poked out to enter your mouth, you allowed her in. Her mouth swallowed your tiny moans and whines, and the cold metal of her piercing swiped against your wet muscle.

You’d never before kissed anyone with a tongue piercing, but the feeling of it against your tongue made you let out a low moan. Ellie pulled back, her hand gave your ass a teasing squeeze. The suddenness of her action caused you to yelp from surprise.

Ellie chuckled, “If you’re okay with this… can I…” her eyes adverted from yours to the side, “can I go down on you?” She finally finished.

“Yes, oh my god,” you replied, eagerly connecting your lips in a kiss. Ellie smiled in the kiss, before separating quickly.

“Let’s take these off, yeah? My pretty girl,” her hand tugged at your skirt. Unzipping the skirt was easy, so you shimmed out of it, leaving you in just your little pink lace thong.

Ellie whistled, seeing you in your top and now just thong. Her pussy pulsated at the sight, you felt so exposed under her watchful eye. A blush spread across her freckled cheeks as her eyes ranked up and down your body.

“Ellie… you can take them off… please,” your voice was needy and whiny. Within the small space of the car, the air between you both became thick, the windows becoming foggy.

“Mmm patience, pretty,” Ellie purred out. She pulled your panties down and maneuvered your body so you could lie down comfortably. “This comfortable?”

You gave her a nod of reassurance before she unexpectedly swiped her long, slender fingers through your wet pussy. Ellie almost moaned, collecting your wetness with her digits before bringing them to her lips. She licked her fingers clean, eyes rolling back into her head at the taste of you.

Ellie then lowered her head and made her way to where you needed her the most. You spread your thighs, allowing her to slot her head between them. She then licked a strip from your clit down to your hole, which caused you to grab a fistful of her hair.

The movement of her wet tongue on your pussy felt so good, your thighs shook as she continued to lick around your pussy. Slurping noises could be heard, Ellie pushed her tongue into your tight, little hole.

“Oh- fuck! Ellie! Pleaseee,” the sensation of her filling you up with her tongue made you so desperate and whiny.

Ellie peered up, still licking away at your hole. Her eyes darkened seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head, feeling you pull at her hair, and the way you tasted made her absolutely pussy drunk.

Her own eyes rolled into her head, her tongue entering and exiting your hole, before she licked her way back up to your clit. Her focus stayed there as she wanted to make you sensitive and squirmy.

Ellie kept a grip on your thighs to keep you in place, she moved her hand down to your pussy, and slipped in two fingers.

You felt a sudden stretch inside of yourself, your wetness echoing in the car, which caused Ellie to suck harder. The feeling of her fingers going in and out of you, along with the coolness of her piercing had you so close to the edge.

Ellie whined, and your fingers dug more into her hair. “Please… oh pleaseee… Ellie, I’m so close!” Your body wanted to rive around from how good the combination of her tongue and fingers working against you felt.

Ellie so desperately wanted to make you cum, and she was going to get you there. Your begging was egging her on, her boxers dampened just from going down on you.

“Such a good girl,” Ellie groaned, head still buried between your thighs. Ellie continued to work her fingers in and out of your tight, cunt. Squelching noises filled the car, she was relentless and wouldn’t stop. Her fingers curled, hitting your sweet spot.

Your mouth fell open, the action only made her go harder, sucking at your clit and swirling it around in her mouth like a fucking lollipop. That with the combination of her fingers, sent you over the edge.

“Ellie! Fuck!” You screamed, back arching as you came around her fingers. Ellie slipped her fingers out and into her mouth, her eyes closed at the taste as she enjoyed it.

One thing about Ellie is she loved giving head. She was pussy drunk off you. Popping her fingers out of her mouth, she licked the remaining of your cum from between your legs, leaving none behind.

A small groan was heard from her, you whined feeling her still licking away, your poor clit so sensitive.

“Els… please m’ too sensitive now,” you frowned. You didn’t want her to stop, but god were you sensitive now?

“Sorry… got carried away you taste really good,” she replied, getting up from between your thighs. She leaned down and kissed you, her tongue darting into your mouth for entry, and you felt the taste of yourself lingering in her mouth. That fucking tongue piercing…

You both pulled away, your breathing particularly harder after your intense orgasm. “Lemme get my clothes back on,” you shimmed into your underwear and skirt.

Your legs wobbling as you did, Ellie took notice and bit her lip at the sight.

“Was it that good?” Ellie teased, and you playfully hit her shoulder.

“Oh shut up! You know it was,” you both laughed.

Ellie gently kissed your forehead, “Wanna stay at my place tonight? We should stop for some dinner.

You eagerly nodded, “I would love that, thank you.”

“Course, love. Let’s get to the front of the car now,” you agreed and moved to climb to the passenger seat. Ellie playfully hit your butt as you climbed into the seat.

You gasped, turning back to look at her. She just smirked, getting into the driver's side. You both comfortably got into your seats, and Ellie started the car.

“Ready?” Ellie turned to you, you finished clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Course, let’s go!” You squealed and moved to grab her hand for the ride.

The car drove to her apartment, where you enjoyed late-night fast food and were cuddled to sleep by her. Success? I think so.

[gghostwriter]

Time Gave No Compass, Were There Clues?

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: The three times fate brings you to cross paths with a certain handsome stranger and the one time he purposely crosses with yours Trope:It’s fluff in a meet cute type of way w.c: 5.6k+ a/n: this is connected to ‘One Single Thread of Gold’! This took forever to make simply because I had this fear that the second part wouldn’t come out as great as the first and I’ve been in a writing funk lately—not quite sure if my writing worsened or got better during this period but at this point, maybe I shouldn’t care that much anymore? That’s a lie so please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The first encounter—a knight in a vintage blue vehicle

The drumming noise of the rain against the vinyl awning of the Japanese restaurant became the perfect soundtrack for watching countless strangers scurry to the nearest shelter.

It was the night that you have dubbed your unluckiest as a woman in Washington—up until he came along.

According to the morning weather forecast, there was little to no chance of rain. A radiant reprieve from the downpour of light rainfall the city had been experiencing three days in a row. A believer of facts you were, excitedly slipped on your new pair of heels and joined the outside world, sun shining up above the sky without a single speck of dark cloud lingering in its wake.

The work day was nothing special—jumping on video calls with your boss, answering international emails from the magazine’s sister branches abroad, and reviewing articles set to be published for next month’s print.

Nothing unusual. No sign that the day would roller coaster down and up again, before ending right before a drop, leaving you white knuckled with anticipation.

As you were exiting the diner with your freshly cooked to-go in one hand, the weather decided to beat the statistics presented by the news forecast. Rain poured down hard, effectively stranding you on the covered sidewalk.

“Oh,” you mumbled under your breath, forced to settle down on the empty outdoor seating. The gust of cold wind that caressed your cheeks to turn pink reminded you of comforting childhood memories—warm cocoa, blanket forts, and cuddles with your precious teddy bear. 

It brought a smile on your face, recalling the time when life was still simple.

Working as a writer for an established fashion magazine had its own ups and downs. You felt lucky enough to be given the opportunity to work with living and breathing artists, all the while having the flexibility to live anywhere in the country.

Your boss initially found it odd when you mentioned temporarily moving back to Washington. It wasn’t a state well-established in the industry after all. It was a city filled with starched pressed suits, neutral ties, and newly shined loafers—the epicenter for politics and everything serious. 

The ridiculous misconception about fashion and its frivolousness caused your nose to scrunch. It was the same idea that pushed newly graduate you to move to New York and burn the midnight oil to be where you were now, highly respected in the circle.

She understood your truth—the need for a change of scenery before jumping back in to the game with fresh new eyes. Jokingly, she wagered you’d only last two months away from the Big Apple before coming back. It had been six months since then and you were starting to believe the urge for the city that never sleeps will never cross your mind again.

As you mused about the trajectory of your career, the clouds started to let up, enough that you took the chance to open your compact umbrella and possibly ruin your heels to get to the nearest subway entrance just 10 minutes away.

A mistake that you realized halfway as a sudden blast of strong wind flipped your umbrella inside out, rending you vulnerable to the hasty returning rain.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath as water started to stain your light purple satin heels, turning them near black.

Definitely ruined.

The flickering light of the entrance and the still warm spot underneath the restaurant pulled you in two different directions. Should you just brave the weather already starting to look like a drowned animal or should you go back with your tail tucked between your legs?

As you debated your next move, being poorly protected by your broken umbrella and soaked by the tormenting weather no less, a blue vintage car came to a stop beside you and honked it’s horn.

“Um—do you need help? A ride, maybe?” a voice shouted out of the rolled down passenger window, barely heard against the torrential downpour.

A good Samaritan was rare this day and age. So uncommon that it made you immediately wary. You looked around, making sure it was you the stranger was addressing before uttering a reply.

“Depends on who’s asking,” your free hand clutching the ends of your spoiled umbrella. “Are you a serial killer by any chance?” 

He paused, caught off guard with your question, and chuckled. “What? No, no. Not at all, just a concerned citizen.”

You bit your lip, wavering between accepting his offer at the risk of your life, before reaching to open the passenger door. “Fair enough.”

The stranger promptly layered a black windbreaker on the tan leather seats. “Sorry, it’s just—did you know that wet leather can lead to discoloration?”

Your eyebrows raised, shuffling to get comfortable on the seat—mindful of your back not touching, before giving him a nod. “Yes, actually I did but it’s great to see someone else know about it too.”

He pressed his lips together into a tight smile and reached forward on the console, tinkering with the unlabeled knobs, turning up the heat. 

Your eyes tracked his every movement, curious as to any indication to who this mysterious gentleman was.

His nails were light pink in color, clean, and cut short—possibly for a desk office job. His fingers were long and bony, model length you’d surmise—a little calloused on one side of his middle finger possibly from holding a pen too tight. The back of his hand veined and wide in size, big enough to dwarf your dainty slim hands in comparison.

Your cheeks heated up, feeling guilty for gawking at a man’s hands before spilling your address without so much of a thought for your safety.

The stranger blanched, clearly caught off guard with your trusting nature. “Didn’t your mother teach you not to go with strangers willingly? Or provide vital information about yourself for that matter?”

You appraised his profile as his eyes trained on the road. 

Hazel colored hair that curled around his face. Sunken eyes framed by long, dark lashes that any woman could envy. A tall and straight nose bridge. Maroon pillowy lips and a sharp jawline perfectly matched with a five-o’clock shadow.

He was handsome.

Pretty even.

The type you’d see a casting agent and photographer fawn over.

Shoulders seemingly angular and wide, stretching his black knitted cardigan well. It’s arms pushed up to showcase his forearms lithe in form with muscles flexing underneath as he twists the wheel to take a right. His seat pushed the farthest it could go, highlighting how tall he could be.

Your handsome gentleman could rival male models that graced your magazine’s editorial pages.

“Well, you don’t look like a serial killer and I think I’d take my chances with you than out there—” a flash of lightning trailed on the darkened sky followed by a loud clap of thunder. “—yeah, I stand with my choice.”

His laughter mid-pitched, filled the confined space. “And how does a serial killer look like?”

“Sinister and not trustworthy. You look neither, by the way,” you shrugged.

“Actually, there’s a minor percentage of killers that don’t fit in your description. Ted Bundy is an example, he used his good looks to lure in unsuspecting women.”

You hummed in agreement. “You’re right and you could definitely use your looks too but I still doubt you’re one. Let’s call it intuition and if I had to guess, you work at a desk job. Finance or Human Resources, maybe?”

“Are you saying I look—” he cleared his throat, a wrinkle appearing between his well shaped brows. “—handsome?”

“Well, at the risk of sounding like I’m flirting with you—which I’m not, well, maybe. But yes, I think you’re good looking. Handsome.” 

The pink flush that slowly darkened to a cherry red started its descent to his exposed neck, making him look more endearing. His reaction made it quite obvious he was never one to receive such flattery about his appearance which made you question the eyes of the women around him.

He was utterly distinguished and dressed in this comforting nerdy fashion that added to the appeal.

“I take it you’re not used to compliments.”

The long lashes that framed his molten chocolate eyes fluttered, as if highlighting is naivety in dealing with the opposite sex.

It sent butterflies free in your stomach.

“Yeah, but thank you. And I’m really not a serial killer—I wouldn’t be using a memorable vehicle in picking up a victim in a crowded street with city cameras around. Not that, that information helps me state my case. In fact, it’s making it worse—” he rambled out, easing the car into a stop beside your apartment complex. “What I meant was, I-I think you’re good looking too, beautiful.”

You laughed at the absurdity of where your night has ended up.

The air trapped between two bodies crackled with an energy you couldn’t name. It was humming below the surface, making you feel hyper aware of the man who drove you home.

It was igniting.

Possibly the start of something.

In contrast, the outside was quiet and still. The rain had finally come and gone, leaving behind its comforting atmosphere.

The lamp posts reflecting off the puddles of water, tinting the streets a warm, honey gold color. Leaves dancing, like string puppets controlled by the forces of nature. The wind whispering and giggling—to what, you didn’t know but you felt it wasn’t important to dissect. No more important than the stranger who’s scent, aged books and cedar wood, intermingled with yours, vanilla and a hint of amber.

“Thank you for the ride,” quickly exiting the vehicle. Suddenly you felt shy as the last few minutes replayed in your head—how trusting you were to take his offer and how naive it was of you to let your guard down.

The sound of a subsequent car door opening echoed on the empty street. “You’re welcome and you’re wrong, by the way.”

“Wrong about what?” You twisted to look back.

The street lights hitting his face, casting a mysterious shadow on his handsome features.

“About me working in finance or human resources.”

Huh. 

Your steps faltered to a stop.

That was a first—people around you always did say you read people best.

He was an exception it seemed.

An anomaly.

A mystery you wouldn’t mind taking a second try in solving.

“Better luck next time then. I hope to see you around,” you waved as you opened the heavy metal gate behind you.

His hand mimicked your goodbye before promptly reaching down to open his car door, effectively disappearing from your gaze as you pushed the main door open to the lobby.

As you watched the remaining water droplets slide down your coat, waiting for the rickety elevator to descend, an all important question popped in your mind that you never uttered into the world.

His name.

You forgot to ask for his name.

Hurriedly running back to the entrance, your stained heels clacking on the stoned pathway, you opened the gate just to spy the gentleman’s memorable light blue vehicle rev forward to blend into the chilly city night. 

Damn.

**

The second—a shared cup of Joe between two no longer strangers

The sun peeking underneath the cotton candy white clouds did little to fight off the inevitable Autumn air. Weeks of sunny days from the past storm is nearing its end causing the city occupants to flood the streets and parks for their last soak of Summer. 

Weeks have gone since your enthralling encounter with the handsome stranger and his vintage blue car. You’ve spent days replaying the memory in hopes of finding any more clues on who he was or even how to run into him again. Nights lamenting over the missed opportunity and the bitter what-if that came with it. The thought, now hazy from time passed, seemed to be colored in this golden hue you couldn’t quite describe.

A sigh escaped from between your pale pink lips. 

The moment was captivating.

He was beguiling.

But until you run into him again, his very being in your mind lived rent free.

Hand adjusting the pale pink scarf wrapped around your neck, you stepped into the warm quaint bakery down by the office. The aroma of freshly baked bread and roasting coffee beans enveloped the otherwise packed store. It was still early on the day and otherwise sleep deprived workers were queuing up for their daily fix.

This had been your spot since renting a small office space to commute to. Given your need to separate home from work, you’ve opted to find a studio you could call your temporary ‘work room’. It added extra expense, you’d agree but the comfort of being in a sea of strangers going to and from added a sense of productivity you’d never quite get if you created a makeshift office in your one bedroom apartment downtown.

You squeezed your way towards the front to view the pastry selection when you spotted him.

The gentleman in question at the counter, clearly holding up the line. 

He flashed Sarah, your usual fixer as you joked, a tight smile filled with apologies and embarrassment. 

Destiny seemed to have heard your calls and to that you were grateful.

Not wanting to let this second chance encounter go to waste, you excused yourself to the register and deftly slid your card on the white granite counter.

“Hey Sarah, do you mind adding my order with his? And a one of your buttery croissants would be much appreciated.”

Her eyebrows raised, clearly wondering the reason behind your surprising actions. Eyes flickered to the stranger beside you muttering his light disagreeing reaction before nodding towards you, as if agreeing with what she saw. “One long black and a flat white coming right up.”

“Hey stranger, fancy seeing you here,” you cocked your head to the side, loose tendrils escaping the confines of your loose bun.

The same blush that haunted you graced his face. “Hey—hi, it’s you! It’s nice to see you again,” his fingers proceeded to fiddle with his leather worn wallet. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. Pay for my coffee, I mean.”

“It’s no problem at all, just think of it as my payment for the ride the other day and also a thank you for, you know, not turning out to be a killer, like you kept bringing up.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling close. “Well, I just wanted to instill some extra caution in you. It’s good to think well of people in general but it doesn’t hurt to be wary of them either. Especially the statistics of you—a young woman being targeted is quite high no matter how safe Washington seems to be.”

“I did get an earful from my friend about the reckless act I did. So, safe to say I’ve learned my lesson—” you paused, flashing Sarah a smile as your hands wrapped around the steaming cup of coffee and the bag containing the pastry. “But between you and me, I think she was more miffed about something I didn’t do.”

He mimicked your movements and proceeded to guide you to the nearest available standing table, his free hand hovering near the small of your back. 

“And what was it?”

“Not getting your name.”

His free hand wrapped around the strap of his satchel, pulling it towards the front of his body as if it was a shield that could hide away the blush that slowly crept down his neck.

“I, yeah—Spencer. Spencer Reid.” 

You introduced yourself with the same enthusiasm, finally at ease for knowing who he was.

“Well then, Spencer Reid, was I really wrong or was that just a lie to throw my deductive skills off course?” your hands pushing the packets of sugar towards his steaming open cup.

He thank you silently, counting at least 8 packets of sugar before returning the remaining ones in the jar. “What do you mean?”

“You not working in finance.”

“Well statistically speaking, more than 43% of the offices located here don’t belong in the finance section,” he grinned. 

With his eyes twinkling, he further continued. “21% of those are actually the government sector while the remaining are a mixture of publishing, business, and IT.”

“You sprouting off statistics doesn’t really sway me from my guess, you do know that?” You hummed, watching him dump and stir all the sugar into his dark cup of Joe. The idea of how sweet it would be sent a slight shiver down your spine. “If not finance then hmm—what about teaching?”

Appraising his get up for the day—a purple button down layered with a seemingly fraying cardigan and a black overcoat. He reminded of you of those quirky university professors that students would have no problem having a crush on. 

“You look like a young college professor with a couple degrees under your belt. Maybe literature? Or math?”

An airy laughter emitted between his lips. “Why is it always returning back to math?”

“I truly don’t know—” you shrugged. “You look smart and academic so that’s my best guess.”

“There’s actually a statistic on how many academically gifted people end up in the field of science rather than in math but I don’t know if you’d like to hear it.”

You leaned forward. “I actually do but that would cement my idea of you in maths.”

A ring from his pocket interrupted his reply. Spencer clambered to answer the call even before its’ third ring. 

“Yeah. Okay, got it. 5 minutes.” 

Any humor or lightheartedness the conversation brought had been erased from his face. It must have been work and the gravity of his responsibility must be heavy—definitely not finance and maybe not a professor then.

“I have to go—” Spencer tightly smiled, hands pulling the satchel and drink closer to his body. “It was really nice seeing you again.” 

You nodded, wordlessly walking out of the shop with him. As he started to step away from your presence, he turned back one last time to further throw you off course.

“You were right about one thing.”

Brows furrowing together, you shout back. “Which one?”

Spencer just smiled and shrugged his shoulders before turning forward, picking up his pace and leaving you further baffled about his mystery.

**

The third—a run- in during an otherwise idle day

The white noise the train against its tracks threatened to lull you into a daze. Its compartment surprisingly sparse with occupants during this otherwise tranquil Saturday. Everyone seemed to be at nearby parks, watching the leaves slowly turn this red-orange hue.

Your companion in hand—a book with its spine cracked and front cover folded backwards, sat idly on your denim lap. It was a tattered and worn copy of Emily Bronte’s Wuthering Heights. When you were in your teens, it had been the gateway to your love of classic literature and it had been your favorite ever since.

The bench you were seated on shifted and with it, medium brown brogues registered in your periphery.

Inwardly, you scoffed at the stranger invading your space when there were a multitude of empty seats available in your section. Briefly you wondered if this was going to be another day of being picked up by men who didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘no’ which inevitably would ruin your day. 

As you were debating on nicely excusing yourself away, the man cleared his throat.

“Hey—hi,” he sheepishly greeted in this voice that had been replaying in your head since that rainy weekday night. 

You blinked away the surprise—the bafflement that fate had seemed to cross your path with his again and again and again. It always happened when you least expected it. After all, you spent numerous days craning your neck for even a small glimpse of Spencer Reid to no avail. Your eyes would subconsciously sweep the streets for a view of any suede coat matched with a purple pattern scarf. It had been your own version of Where’s Waldo—a past time that your friend joined as you forbade her (and by extension, yourself) from looking him up online. 

You wanted to keep the mystery and it seemed fate was rewarding you today.

“Hi-hey Spencer. This is a surprise,” your cheeks stretching wide from the grin you gave him. 

His fingers brushed a nonexistent stray of hair behind his ears. “Yeah, I couldn’t believe it was you. The odds of ever seeing you again—or anyone I’d know on the train is low, with how many people Virginia has.”

“Isn’t it fascinating?” your hands closing the book that no longer held your attention. “How we seemed to just run into each other? Funny how that works.”

“I mean, you could say that—not that I believe in destiny or fate with how abstract and little scientific studies it has. Maybe we just run in the same small schedule or circle.”

Your eyebrow raised, appraising his look. 

His hair looked unruly—with one side more flattened the the other, possibly slept on. His clothes, although free from any stains that would indicate it as yesterday’s, had crease marks that were reminiscent of its folding. They were clean but also not pressed—came from the satchel then. The very same bag laying on his lap, no doubt filled with dirty laundry and other necessities.

“I don’t think so,” you pondered on. “Are you just on your way back home from work, by any chance?”

“How’d you know that?” His voice cracking at the end.

You shrugged. “I pick up on things, small details and all that.”

“That’s really good. Must come in handy with your work as a journalist.”

Now it was your turn to be surprised. “How’d you know that? How’d—what gave it away?”

“It was an educated guess which—” he flashed you a grin. “—you just confirmed now.”

“Touche. Although that does seem unfair,” you pouted. “You know my occupation but I can’t even get yours right.”

He tilted his head to the right, eyes twinkling with life that keeps you pulled in. “You’re welcome to guess. In fact, I could give you a clue if you wanted—” he paused waiting for your agreement which you readily gave. “—alright you were right about one thing the last time: the one about me having multiple degrees.”

“You look young so I’m guessing a genius?”

“Well, my co-workers do like to tease me as one and it is true so yeah. I am a genius.”

The way his eyes shifted showed how bashful he was in admitting out loud he was one. You briefly wondered if there was ever a time where he felt embarrassed about it—probably in high school, you’d surmise. Teenagers, after all, had the tendency to ostracize anyone who doesn’t fit the rigid status quo they’ve collectively agreed upon.

“That’s amazing!” You gushed. “And it does narrow it quite down, actually. Do you happen to work for the government? I mean, I’m sure they try to collect the best minds our country has to offer, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do work for the government. And you’re right, they do tend to employ gifted adults as a way to also surveillance them—to make sure they don’t turn into anti-statists or anarchists.”

You pondered over every detail he presented. Freshly manicured nails tapping on your leg before finally guessing. “Okay so, I was first going to say NASA because—” you shrugged. “—it’s space but then that would be too stereotypical of me to assume. Plus, you’ve thrown off just about any deductions I’ve made during our first two meetings—”

Spencer nodded. He seemed proud to listen to you ramble your way through. 

“—I was also going to guess administrative work but it’s a weekend and you’re just on your way home so that’s a no—”

A small spread on his face.

A good sign that you were in the right direction.

“—it can’t be the judiciary too, right? I always imagined them to be wearing neutral suits and have this stoic air around them—”

He chuckled.

“—so I’m guessing law enforcement? Can’t be a regular cop, they have uniforms. So, for the FBI? Or am I just reaching?”

Spencer vigorously nodded his head, the wavy tendrils tucked behind his ears escaping their confines. 

“That’s right! Wow—you’re really good at this. Maybe you should have also been scouted!” He teased.

You giggled, the happiness from getting it right and the idea of you working with a gun seemed ludicrous. “Sadly, I may be too clumsy for that kind of work. With my type of luck, I’d probably trip over my feet and mess up a crime scene.”

The automated voice announcing the next station broke through the lighthearted conversation. Spencer’s eyes widened ever so slightly, indicating that this was his stop.

“I guess this is it, huh? See you soon then, Spencer?”

He sandwiched his lower lip between his pearly teeth. “Would you be interested in purposefully seeing each other next time? I would love to get to know you more—over dinner? Coffee? Any would be great—you don’t have to say yes of course but yeah.”

“Can I say yes to all of the above?” You teased. “I would love to.”

Spencer started to get up, hands pulling on his satchel to secure it. The train was coming to a stop and you could begin to see the stop come into view.

Your hand quickly reached out to tug on his rolled sleeve. “Wait—how do we contact each other?”

“It’s tucked in your book. My number, I mean,” he laughed. The sound coaxing you to release your own. “See you!”

Your eyes tracked him getting off the train and his would meet yours one last time, before disappearing towards the station’s nearest exit. Your hands hastily opened the front page to where a new object was slotted in between without you knowing.

His calling card.

Federal Bureau of Investigation - Behavioral Analysis Unit SSA Dr. Spencer Reid 1-761-xxx-xxxx

Giggling, you fished your phone from the confines of your wallet and quickly sent out a text.

Hey. Are you a magician too, by any chance? 

**

The fourth or better yet, the planned first—two strings interwoven by fate

Spencer hadn’t been able to explain the circumstances that led him here tonight—walking through a nearby park in the sparkly but cold weekend night with a beautiful woman right by his side. 

The dinner date had gone surprisingly well. So great in fact that he didn’t want it to end. Suggesting to walk you back home rather than use his blue well beaten vehicle left parked near the restaurant was his idea to prolong the night. 

He was well aware that you both could be exposing yourselves to a seasonal bout of cold but for the first time, it didn’t matter to his overactive and over-analytical brain. Nor did it seem to matter to you—given with how vigorously she accepted his suggestion to walk. 

Your dainty right hand was wrapped around the bouquet of flowers he personally selected. An array of daisies, daffodils, and sedums.

Joy from having to meet you, to new beginnings, and affection.

Spencer wanted to convey what he had been feeling since that run-in the coffee shop. Regardless if you knew what they meant.

This was all uncharted territory and the incidents that brought them into each other’s worlds was baffling to say the least. 

Was this the really the works of fate?

Does this prove that destiny is true and the notion of having free choice is a lie we tell ourselves?

He concluded it probably didn’t matter.

All that mattered was where he was now—with you.

“So you really took all those degrees all together?” you clarified, eyes widening from disbelief. “The amount of studying and writing you’ve done must have been massive.”

“Well, it did help that I could read fast—20,000 words per minute, but I could still remember my hands cramping from the amount I had to type down.”

“Of course you can still remember, with your eidetic memory and all. That must be nice—never forgetting any novel you’ve read.”

He shrugged. “It does have it’s perks but between you and me, there is a downside to it.”

You halted in her step, staring inquisitively up at him. 

Spencer found it cute—how even with yout heeled boots on, you could only reach up to his chest. It gave him this sense of protectiveness over you being. 

“Oh yeah, like what?”

He pondered. “Well, we did have this one vampire case and one of the victim’s laptop password was ‘Cullen’ and I didn’t get the reference—thought it was ‘colon’ actually. So I decided to read the first book and didn’t like it.”

“You actually read ‘Twilight’?” You giggled. It sounded like wind chimes echoing through the trees.

“I was curious!” His voice went up an octave. “Is that what teens are reading, really? What ever happened to reading ‘Lord of the Flies’ or Franz Kafka during high school, for that matter?” 

“The one where a group of boys are stranded on an island or the one where the protagonist turns into a cockroach? Doesn’t really read romance for teen girls, Spencer.”

He chuckled. “And a 104 year old vampire does?”

“It’s about the idea,” you continued on walking, free hand swinging in between you—all he had to do was reach out and intertwine it with his but could he do that? Should he? Would she want that? “How Bella is your average, teen next door and someone like Edward, mysterious and handsome, could fall for her. It’s about the premise—I mean which teenage girl didn’t dream of something like that?”

“Does that include you too?”

You laughed. “I mean—Edward isn’t really my type but sure, I guess.”

Spencer decided to do it. He tentatively reached out his pinky to yours, looping them together.

There, a small touch you could say no to.

He waited for the reaction. From himself, there was a lack of worry for germs (this surprised him) and from you, the possibility of rejecting his small advances. With a breath lodged in his throat, Spencer watched a shy smile grace your face and cheeks turn further pink. 

Empowered by the reaction, he reached out to intertwine the rest of his freezing hand with yours and proceeded to tuck both into his coat pocket. Spencer felt his cheeks emit warmth, wondering where his courage came from. If Morgan just saw him now, no doubt he���d get a pat at the back and a whispered ‘you’ve got serious game, kid.’

“It’s a good thing he isn’t my type at all, don’t you think so?” You whispered. “I mean, you don’t sparkle in the sun, do you?”

His laughter echoed through the otherwise empty streets. 

“Oh god—that was so so bad. Ignore my cheesy flirting, please.”

“No, no,” he shook his head, feeling lightheaded from your presence. “I don’t think I do, actually. We could check—” clearing his throat “—once the weather gives way to the sun.”

It seemed like you got what he was subtly stating. “That long, huh? I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Please do.”

Both your steps slowed to a stop in front of your apartment complex.

Spencer sighed under his breath, he really didn’t want the night to end. There was still so much to talk about—anything and nothing at the same time. Is this what they meant when they said time flies when you’re having fun? 

“Well,” you squeezed his hand twice. “This is it. I had fun tonight, Spencer.”

He squeezed back in return. “I did too. Can I—call you again?”

You nodded, a single tendril of hair escaping from its' loose bun.

Mesmerized, Spencer reached forward and secured it behind your reddening ear. “Get home safe.”

“I doubt anything would happen between my way up from the elevator to my door but I will. Drive safe and let me know you got in safely, got it?”

He reluctantly let go of your hand, slowly backing away without turning his back on you. Each second seeing you bundled up in a coat with flowers still on hand was an image he never wanted to forget, never wanted to miss.

As he was a few steps away, the wind carried your sweet voice to his ears.

“Hey, Spencer. There’s one thing I think you forgot to take with you.” 

He patted his coat, unsure as to what you were pertaining to. Eyes scanning his being when the distinct sound of your heels against the pavement, getting closer and closer, made him look up.

A pair of soft warm lips met his cheeks. 

“Goodnight, Spencer.”

His jaw dropped. The act short circuited his otherwise intelligent brain. It felt like every thought had dropped away, turning insignificant, compared to the tensed silence between two individuals once considered strangers but now intertwined in a way he could not explain in any language he knew. 

Little white specks floated down from the sky, coloring the moment in the lightest color ever possible—a hue that symbolized new beginnings.

Before his mind could catch up, Spencer felt himself moving.

Towards you.

Closing in. 

Cupping your cheeks.

And meeting his own lips with the ones that short circuited his brain.

In that moment, all he could comprehend was the smell of you—like freshly cleaned laundry dried under the sun. The taste of you—cherries with a hint of the red wine you drank over dinner. And the feel of you—warm, hands grasping his coat tight, flowers dropped on the ground, momentarily forgotten.

These were details he willed to engrave in his eidetic memory. Observations he doesn’t want to forget.

And you, the single woman he hopes to never lose.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[xvysarene]

𝕊𝕠𝕞𝕖𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕝

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Words: ~3.1k Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Eventual fluff Notice: Y/N is not MC, Profanities, Mentions of wounds Summary: There was a connection between you and Sylus that went beyond the typical boss & his right-hand woman dynamic. When you finally had enough of his recent behaviour since his return, you decided it was time to quit.

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

“We agree to your terms, and as soon as we finish the down payment, we expect to see the firearms—”

Before you could even finish, the heavy double doors swung open with a crash. Sylus strode in, a dark aura clinging to him, and you knew that nothing good would come out of it.

“The deal is off.”

You gasped. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“Ms. Y/N, I thought you said you could handle this deal solo?” Marcel—that cunning eel of a man—drawled lazily. “Looks like Mr. Sylus here still doubts your ability, even after all this time.”

On any other day, you would have knocked the smug grin off Marcel’s face. But your attention was fixed on your boss, Sylus, whose expression was a cold, impenetrable mask of indifference.

“I’ve worked on this for months. Alone. When you were gone chasing shadows,” you hissed, “You have no right to dictate me.”

Crimson eyes met your gaze with a fire of his own as he stepped closer. “And do I need to remind you who’s the leader of this organisation?”

How dare he!

It took a while for the others in the N109 Zone to stop belittling you, to finally trust you as Onychinus’s indispensable weapon who could hold her own ground, even entrusted to run the organisation in his absence.

And he knew this.

“I don’t meddle in your affairs, so stay out of mine.”

He exactly knew what, or who, you were talking about.

Somehow, this conversation was no longer about the deal; it was about something else that had been creating a rift between you both.

“You don’t understand—”

“You have no idea what I understand!” you snapped, jabbing a finger at his firm chest.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Luke entering the room to usher Marcel out.

“If you’re looking for a new job, my organisation is always open for a pretty little thing, buttercup.” He threw a mischievous wink your way.

The man was clearly not uncomfortable with the commotion; it was satisfying to see Onychinus crumbling before his own eyes.

Kieran cautiously stepped forward. “Boss, Y/N, let’s take a moment—”

“You think I wouldn't find out about your little escapade with ‘Miss Hunter’?”

That struck a nerve; Sylus’s eyes narrowed. 

“What?” you continued, your tone dripping with sarcasm, “Mephisto accidentally charged your card with millions just to buy every single protocore in the auction?”

Any heartfelt emotion you held for him was swallowed by fury and disappointment that had been building for some time. This was the last straw, a volcano ready to erupt.

“I’ve warned you before, Sylus.”

Ever since he came back from doing who knew what, he had been distracted. Physically, he was there—but he wasn't present.

Conversations that once flowed easily between you were now peppered by half-hearted responses.

As a last resort, you decided to prepare dinner for him and the twins that one night, something you periodically did when the mood struck, in the hopes of getting him to come around.

Luke and Kieran were happily munching on the lasagna and sipping wine from Sylus’s favourite bottle, their lively chatter filling up the dining room.

But the man who was supposed to be the centre of it all took only a single bite before abandoning it for his phone.

“Sylus, could you please put your phone down and enjoy the dinner?”

The twins froze, eyes flickering between the two of you, sensing the impending storm.

Yet Sylus didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention firmly fixed on the screen in his hand. Somehow, it was more important than the company around him.

“Sylus—”

“Can you get off my back for once?” Red eyes snapped to yours, flashing with irritation.

“You are losing me,” you repeated the words you had uttered that night. The tremble in your voice was a blend of rage and a deeper, more vulnerable feeling.

Sylus's eyes flashed, revealing the first hint of emotion that you recognised—a wounded look, perhaps, or something else that you didn’t dare to think about.

Kieran, determined to defuse the tension, squared his shoulders. “We all should take a breather and approach this with clearer heads.”

Eyes still fixed on your boss’s handsome face, the words came out with unwavering finality, “I quit.”

Ripping the brooch from where it rested just above your heart, you hurled it with such force that it bounced off his chest before skidding across the floor.

The sharp, unmistakable crack echoed throughout the silent room.

Sylus's jaw tightened, a muscle ticking in his cheek. “Fine.”

And that was it. There were no apologies, not even a 'thank you' for your dedication to Onychinus all this time.

“Please, don't do this. We need you,” Kieran’s voice had a note of desperation in it.

A bitter laugh slipped from your lips. “Your boss has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t need me anymore. Apparently, he has more pressing matters than ensuring the organisation's interest.”

Sylus crossed his arms, his voice cutting like a cold knife. “If you're going to leave, then leave. We don't have time for theatrics.”

With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

Luke, having just returned from escorting Marcel out, caught sight of the unexpectedly angry tears in your eyes and called out your name as you rushed down the hallway.

What you didn’t expect from quitting was the depth of void it created in your life. You missed the twins’ oddball humour and even found yourself longing for Mephisto’s often irritating caws.

It felt strange not to see the black bird outside of your bedroom window or atop the lamppost, as it normally would.

Despite the financial cushion provided by Onychinus’s paycheck, restlessness drove you back to the N109 Zone before long.

“Thought that we’d never see you again, missy.”

The familiar surroundings of Elysium provided a soothing balm to the loneliness gnawing inside you—the rich scent of aged booze mingled with the sound of rolling dice filling your senses.

“You’re not the only one surprised,” you muttered lowly, sitting down on one of the stools.

“Guess you are more used to staying here than Linkon now,” the young woman behind the bar chuckled. “Many might see it as a slum, but the N109 Zone has its charm.”

During Sylus’s absence, you had called the base as a second home. Staying there made it easier for you to manage the daily operation, sparing you the hassle of travelling back and forth to Linkon.

“What would you like to drink? It’s on the house.” Before you could answer, the woman beat you to it. “Rum and lemonade?”

A sudden feeling of yearning washed over you. It was Sylus who had first introduced you to this concoction right here, you had even questioned his taste at the time, but it had since become one of your favourite drinks.

You gulped the emotion down. “Yes, please.”

She sent you a sympathetic smile, obviously understanding what crossed your mind.

The burn of the rum started to warm your body as the second glass went down easily. Each sip brought back memories of standing side by side in battles and conversations shared in quieter moments, a foolish longing that settled deep within your chest. 

As you set it aside, you felt someone slid on the vacant stool beside you, encroaching on your personal space.

“What’s a pretty girl doing here all alone?”

“Leave me alone.” You didn’t even look at his direction.

Funnily enough, though you normally no longer felt the weight of the brooch—a symbol of your affiliation with Sylus and Onychinus—you now felt its absence vividly, like a phantom heaviness above your left breast.

With it, no one ever truly dared to come near you, wary of crossing paths with Sylus.

Without it, however, meant you were no longer under Sylus’s protection.

The man sidled closer, clearly not taking the hint. “Still playing hard to get even without Sylus behind you? You should have seen him dragged out of the raid like a ragdoll by his pair of thugs. It was pathetic.”

Your heart stuttered, finally looking at the man beside you. “What did you say?” 

Sylus, hurt? It was unthinkable. You had seen first-hand how his wound healed quickly.

“Heh, you really don’t know, do you?” His smile widened, revealing yellowed teeth. “The idiot went to finish Marcel off by himself last night. Imagine taking down dozens of Marcel’s men alone, with all their weapons.”

He daringly placed a hand on your thigh, fingers digging in. “So bitch, you’d better get off your damn high horse and listen. Without Sylus, you’re just another pretty face.”

In a quick manoeuvre, you slammed his head on the bar. His painful howl was cut short as you drew your concealed gun, the barrel pressed firmly against the back of his skull. “Touch me one more time and I’ll paint this bar with your brains.”

The barkeeper approached, her expression impassive as she took in the sight of your gun pressing against the man's head. However, when she noticed the colour draining from your face, a look of surprise crossed her features.

“You didn’t know?” she asked, her tone softer than you expected. “I thought that was the reason you came back here.”

Ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, you stormed out of the bar, the weight of fear heavy on your shoulders.

The city's familiar streets blurred past as you made your way to the base, and you thought you heard familiar caws in the distance.

You didn't spare a second thought as the electronic lock still buzzed with recognision when your palm and iris scans were verified. The reinforced doors opened, granting you access just like usual.

Luke and Kieran met you in the hallway, no doubt alerted to your arrival. Whether by Mephisto or the security alert, you weren’t sure.

Even with their masks on, their surprised body language was unmistakable.

“How did you find out? Boss made sure that none of us tips you off,” Luke asked.

“It’s true?” you demanded, your voice was tight with anxiety. “About Sylus?”

The twins exchanged silent glances. “He’s in his quarters,” Kieran said slowly. “But be warned, he is in a foul mood.”

As you moved swiftly down the familiar corridors, your heart pounded in your chest. The smell of antiseptic hit your senses as you slid the door open, revealing the dimly lit room.

Sylus was seated on the edge of the bed, his back to you as he changed his bandages. “I told you guys to leave me alone. I’m fine,” his voice gruff.

You took a steadying breath. “Sylus.”

His silhouette tensed, and the set of his shoulders turned rigid. Slowly, he turned to look at you.

“What are you doing here?” His voice was rough.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. The sight of bandages covering his injuries made it difficult to articulate your thoughts. “Why did you go after Marcel?”

“This isn’t a place for someone like you right now.”

That comment was odd, but you dismissed it as you crossed the room, closing the gap between you. Up close, you could see the bruises and wounds peppering his body—dark, angry splotches that marred his skin, evidence of the brutality inflicted by Marcel’s men.

While the healing process was slower than usual, it was still significantly faster than it would be for an ordinary person.

You had been working with him for quite some time yet you had never before seen him in such a state.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, catching your concerned gaze.

“You don’t look fine,” you said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere until you explain what happened.”

Sylus shifted on the bed, wincing slightly as he rested his back on the headboard. After a moment of silence, he finally spoke, “Marcel was the one behind the bombing of the hunter’s grandma’s house.”

As much as you felt sorry for the UNICORN hunter, you couldn’t understand why he would put his life on the line for her.

Was it because of the connection they had with the Aether Core? Or was it something else?

Unconsciously, your steps faltered backwards. The anxiety for his well-being took a backseat as the grip of jealousy clawed at you.

It was stupid to feel this way.

Suddenly, you felt rooted to the spot, your body freezing in place. The unexpected use of his Evol caught you off guard. 

“You came all the way here, so you’d better damn well listen to me before jumping to any conclusions.”

Even in his weakened state, he managed to pull you back to the edge of the bed and keep you seated there. He wasn’t close enough to touch, but not so far that you couldn’t see the fatigue etched into his features.

“I kept her around because she was useful. Marcel had been trying to frame Onychinus for the bombing.” His fists clenched, knuckles white. “But that wasn’t what set me off, that scumbag had been running his mouth about you, spreading lies of your incompetence, claiming that you’re nothing more than an empty shell.”

You looked at his injuries pointedly. “You took on his entire army because he taunted me?”

He sighed deeply, rubbing a hand over his face in frustration. “Don’t you see? I was the one feeding him that narrative. He had the front seat to everything that happened that day. I’m the one who unravelled the respect you worked so hard to earn.”

Was that a hint of guilt you heard in his voice?

“He’d been saying that you’d be better suited working in a whorehouse.”

Well, that explained the man's aggressiveness back at the bar, you thought.

“I’m not your responsibility anymore, you don’t need to protect me.”

Sylus looked away. Despite his rough edges, there was a glint of raw, exposed emotion that he struggled to conceal.

“It’s not just about responsibility,” his voice low, “Some things... they’re not as simple as just walking away.”

This was the Sylus you recognised—the same man who, in fleeting moments, had looked at you with an intensity or a softness that spoke of unfulfilled longing.

Everything had shifted since that one kiss, an impulsive act born from an evening of too much drink and unspoken feelings. A kiss that, in its haze, blurred the lines between what was accepted and what was desired.

Yet, every subtle brush of his hands, every act of ensuring your safety, was a quiet rebellion against the boundaries he had set from the start—this was not a place where work and pleasure were meant to mingle.

“That was the reason you called the deal off that day.” You fit the puzzles together.

He nodded. “I had a feeling that he was up to something.”

“And yet, I still don’t understand why you had to go behind my back with the hunter. This”—you gestured to his injuries and the distance between you—“could’ve been prevented.”

You tried to mask the hurt. “I thought you trusted me.”

Sylus shifted closer, and even though you felt that his Evol no longer held you in place, you allowed him.

“It wasn’t about trust, not in the way you think,” his voice was softer now, “If he found out you were involved, I couldn’t risk him coming after you.”

“I don’t need your protection as much as I need your honesty. And you were being a jerk.”

“I know and I’m sorry. I just wanted to keep you safe.”

He reached out, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Leaning in closer, he cradled your jaw with a careful touch.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat at the intensity in his eyes that he didn’t try to mask any longer. “For caring. But I’d rather not see you get hurt again.”

“Can’t promise,” he murmured, “I will always stand between you and anyone who dares to harm you.”

You could feel the warmth of his breath before his lips touched yours, moving in a gentle, unhurried rhythm.

He wanted to savour this moment, to truly taste you with a clear head, unclouded by any alcohol.

Though, before long, a more primal voice seemed to overtake him. The intensity of the kiss grew, fueled by the unfiltered emotions coursing between you.

It was a fierce, unrestrained need to claim you.

No longer feeling tender, his tongue urged your lips open with a determined persistence. Sylus groaned into your mouth as you parted easily, the need to taste you becoming more urgent.

As he took a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back, your gaze locked with the searing flame in his eyes.

A sudden weight pressed against your neck, and you looked down, startled, to find a crow whose wings arched protectively around a red diamond pendant. It was similar to the brooch he had given you, but this was more than an accessory.

It was more personal—more intimate.

“Will you do me the honour of becoming my partner again?” His voice was husky with emotion. “Onychinus needs you. I need you.”

Carefully, you pushed him down the bed, legs spreading daringly caging his form. “Maybe if you beg a little more, I’ll consider it.” 

Both his eyebrows arched in surprise, visibly taken aback by your boldness.

“But, weren’t we supposed to keep work and pleasure separate?” you teased.

A hint of a smirk curled at the edges of his lips. “I’m the boss. I make the rules. Besides, this is more than just a pleasure.”

His large palms settled on your hips, fingers splaying across the curve of your body with a possessive yet tender grip, pulling you closer.

“Can I start by begging you to kiss my wounds and make them better then?”

As he whispered his request, his masculine hands sneaked their way inside your clothes, fingers trailing a line of fire against your skin. Just as the moment heated up, a rustling noise came from outside the door.

The two of you paused, eyes narrowing with suspicion. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open just a fraction. Before either of you could react, Luke and Kieran let out a startled yelp.

“Oh no! They’re doing the hanky panky!” Luke whispered loudly, scandalised.

In a flurry of hurried movements, the twins slammed the door closed and bolted down the hallway, leaving you both staring after them in stunned silence.

Sylus sighed, hiding his face in the soft bend of your neck. “We’ll definitely have to set some new rules about privacy too.”

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST