#I know this seems out of pocket for what I usually post

[very-merry-birthday]

Gluttony

Lust Gluttony Envy Sloth Greed Pride Wrath

Summary: You help the brothers out of tricky situation, and Dean thanks you the best way he knows how.

Warnings: Smut (car sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms)

A/N: Yes, this has been a seven deadly sins series all along!

You picked at your fries lazily as you relaxed against the grimy booth of the diner, watching the place carefully. You'd been following the same man for two days after a string of murders had landed you in a town not far from home. You saw as he began to stand up, making his way to leave.

Your phone began to buzz in your pocket, a number you didn't recognize. Normally you wouldn't answer calls like that, but you were waiting for some information, and wanted to end this hunt as quickly as possible.

"This is a prepaid call from "Hey Sweetheart", at the Washington County correctional facility, all phone calls are subject to recording and monitoring, to accept this call press one now."

You could instantly tell it was Dean, his voice just as deep over the phone as in person. You pressed #1 as you wedged your phone between your ear and your shoulder, standing to follow the man as you gathered up your belongings.

"Hey darlin', you picked up!" He seemed almost surprised on the other end, but kept his cool.

"What's going on, I'm in a rush." You pushed the door open, following him from a distance.

"Awe- I just thought a booty call might be fun right now?" His voice was laced in sarcasm.

"I'm being serious, Dean, what do you need?"

He sucked his breath in through his teeth, "Ya see sweetheart, we might have found ourselves in a bit of trouble over here and... well we need someone to come bail us out."

"I'm busy..." You sighed, finally grabbing the phone again in your hand.

"We'll see you soon!"

The line clicked, going dead as he hung up. You wanted to leave him there, teach him a lesson, but you knew you just had to see him. You looked over at the man walking away, letting out a deep sigh before turning on your heel, returning the way you came.

-

You pulled up around the corner from the tiny jail- more just a police station- checking your face again in the mirror before climbing out of the car, your heels clicking against the sidewalk. It wasn't often that you dressed professionally, the tight button up and skirt feeling claustrophobic against your body, but you knew it would work far better than your usual jeans and flannels.

You made your way in, the afternoon just starting to break into evening as a chill hit the air, and walked to the front desk, a young cop on the other side barely making note of you.

"I'm here for the brothers."

"You posting bail or you their lawyer?" He didn't look up from the screen in front of him.

"Their lawyer."

He nodded, "Take a seat, someone will come get you in a minute."

You did as he said, sitting down as you took in the room. You swallowed hard, you lied for a living, that bit was easy, but having to see Dean after three months without him- that would be slightly harder.

After what felt like too long you saw a cop approaching you, reaching out his hand to shake it, "You here for those boys?"

He was an older guy, barely any hair left on his head, a small coffee stain on his shirt that looked fresh. You weighed up your approach in your mind. Seductive felt odd, this guy was old enough to be your father, possibly even grandfather, and he wasn't trying to hide it. Relentless seemed wrong too, he clearly had a knowledge of the job and you knew clamping down on him would only cause him to fight back. So instead you stood, shaking his hand with a warm smile spread across your face. The friendly approach.

"I am indeed, sir."

"Names Officer Branning, I'm gonna get you to follow me."

He led you down a series of florescent flooded hallways until you were stood outside and interrogation room. You'd seen your fair few before, but normally you were in the same position as the boys. The officer pushed open the door and Dean looked up, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw you walk in.

"You should've told us you called your lawyer, son." The officer moved to sit opposite him, taking a sip of his coffee.

You saw Sam shift in his seat, looking between you and his brother, clearly confused.

"And can I ask what exactly my clients have been arrested for?" You took your own seat next to Dean, you could tell he was still gawking at you out of the corner of your eye.

"Well your boys here have been convicted of section A1 of the Burglary Statute. A house downtown, we get a phone call about suspicious activity and who do we find when we turn up, these two, both in possession of guns, which I don't have to tell you is of course a felony."

You turned to look at them properly for the first time, both of them shifting awkwardly in their seats. You knew that Sam would have already tried every trick in the lawyer book- and at least he had the Harvard experience compared to your Breaking Bad and Law and Order qualifications. He turned back towards the officer, not wanting to seem suspicious. Dean, however, couldn't care less, his eyes raking your body.

He'd never seen you dressed like this: all office siren, your hair pulled back, heels on. He had to admit he liked it, almost as much as he enjoyed you in your hunting gear, covered in grime and blood and sweat... Almost.

You turned back away, his gaze sending heat to the back of your neck. The officer looked behind the three of you, another sip of coffee, he was clearly already checked out for the day, his eyes on the clock above your heads. Sam might have the knowledge, the actual lawyer skills, but you were starting to think your pop culture education might be more likely to get you all out of here.

"Look I'm not gonna sit here and say these two men haven't been foolish, of course they have." You glanced over at them, Sam's eyes going wider, Dean clearly not listening as he watched the way your lips moved, "Entering a dwelling that doesn't belong to them, sure, that looks bad, I'm not denying that. But I do think it's important to note that they didn't use their guns, no one here got hurt, right? And is that not the most important thing?"

The officer nodded slowly. Sam looked between you and him, unable to understand how this actually seemed to be working.

"No one killed, no one injured, gosh not even a paper cut! Secondly, burglary, sir-" you chuckled lightly, "Do you have any proof of that? That they were actually intending to steal anything? Do we even have proof that they broke into the property? As far as I can tell these idiots most likely walked into a house that didn't belong to them, merely out of confusion!"

"I'm not sure-"

"Officer Branning, was it?" You smiled at him warmly, trying to put forth your least threatening expression, "You and I both know the perils of this system. A day in court, those uncomfortable seats they'll make you sit in as you wait to speak, only for what, all of five minutes!?"

He chuckled lightly at your apparent exasperation, "Less than that!"

"Less! A whole day wasted just because these two idjits don't know their own address! And I'm sure the jury will see that- just look at them they couldn't organize a back yard grill let alone a burglary!"

Sam put on his best puppy dog pout and Dean grinned from ear to ear as the officer looked at them both.

"I really don't want to waste your time, and I don't think you want to waste mine either. These are good boys, good god-fearing folk, they've just made a mistake. Surely a slap on the wrist and we can both go home happy?"

"These boys committed a crime-" he looked above your head again, eyeing the clock.

"Who've you got at home, Officer Branning?" You leant back in your seat, smiling at him.

"I'm not sure how that's important?" He questioned, his face flushing with confusion.

"You keep looking at the clock, sir, you got someone worth rushing off for?"

He smiled back, looking down at his coffee, "My wife. It's our anniversary, I was supposed to be home three hours ago but got stuck sat with these two-"

"How many years?" You leant forward. Dean eyed you carefully. He liked seeing you confident like this. He thought back to the last time he'd seen you, the church, your mouth pressed against his ear speaking sin. You'd finished that hunt only a few days later, Sam finally relenting in the knowledge there was no way he'd be able to keep you apart. But that was three months ago, and he hadn't expected to see you this soon. And yet, looking a you now, he realized just how much he'd missed you. He watched as your mouth curled into another warm smile. It made his stomach flip as he tried to suppress the thought.

"Forty-four." He sighed, taking another sip of coffee, "Feels like yesterday we got married, not that I'd ever tell her that."

You reached out to his hand, holding it gently, "Officer, I know it's been a real long day, and I'd hate for it to become an even longer night. I'm sure she deserves you home by now?"

He swallowed hard, looking between the three of you. "What the hell, fine!"

Sam almost fell out of his seat in shock. Dean had to hold himself back from kissing you there and then.

--

Dean's arm was wrapped around your waist before you'd even left the station. You knew he didn't care about who saw, but you also knew you had to get out of there before anyone stopped you.

You all skipped out, keeping your heads down, a smile plastered on all of your faces. Once you were far enough away Dean finally broke, loud laughter coming from his lips.

Sam shook his head with a smirk, "How the hell did you manage that?"

Dean pulled you in closer, lazily kissing your shoulder as you and Sam spoke.

"What, Harvard boy can't understand what an expert lawyer looks like?" You laughed. You knew ignoring Dean's advances was only riling him up more.

"Thought you were only coming to bail us out?" Sam shook his head again.

"If you think I'm spending a dime on you two you're more stupid than I thought." You started to walk back to your car, "Come on, both of you, let me give you a lift."

Dean broke away from you, looking over to his brother, "Go for a walk, Sam."

"Dean it's-"

"Go for a walk." His face turned stern.

Sam rolled his eyes, giving you another baffled smirk before walking away again, his hands sliding into his pockets. Dean pulled you into him again, his mouth attacking your neck. You dragged him towards your car, your hand combing through his hair.

You lifted his face up to look at you as you pouted, "That was mean..."

"He knew the deal the second you walked in wearing that get up." His hand reached down to your ass, inelegantly squeezing it.

"You still shouldn't leave him out in the cold like this."

"Be quiet sweetheart," he kissed you jaw heavily, "just let me show you how thankful I am."

He pushed you against the side of your car, his hands wandering over your body as you scrambled for your keys. You broke your face away from him for a moment as you put your key in the lock, your eyes looking into your own car through the window.

You hadn't really thought about the fact he'd be here, climbing into your car. Even if his mouth wasn't fixed to your neck, you'd still offered him a lift, he'd have seen it one way or another, but it still felt weirdly intimate. Car sex- that was normal. More normal for you two than sex in a bed. But it was always the Impala, a car you had to admit oozed seduction. It had space to move around, to stretch out on the plush vinyl seats. Your car was small, beaten up, only just big enough for you to sleep in on cold nights when all the motels were full. And yet here you were, welcoming him into a space normally reserved only for you.

He didn't seem to care, though, as he guided you into the back seat, pressing himself against your body as he moved to lay above you. You shifted awkwardly, trying to fit your bodies into the small space, a blanket stuffed under your back, old takeout containers on the floor next to you.

He kisses your neck, grazing it with his teeth as you softened into the shape of his body. He tugged at your clothes, his hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt up to your hips. You were suddenly very thankful for the dark descending outside.

You pushed your body up slightly as he continued his movements down, his fingers finally pressing against the middle of your underwear, "Tsk- thought I'd get another pleasant surprise."

He gently circled your clit through the fabric, sending gentle warmth through you, "I got you out of there, didn't I?"

He smiled, "Oh yeah, I was showing my gratitude wasn't I?" He kissed the inside of your thigh, "What's our record, sweetheart?"

"Three..."

He shook his head with a smile.

This had long been a point of contention between you. He insisted that since he'd been able to make you come five times in one day, your record should be five. You contended that since you'd split between a session first thing in the morning and another one in the evening, where he'd made you come three times, your record should be three. Of course, he'd also promised you if he had a full day, and an actual bed, he'd make you come so many times you would pass out.

But he wasn't in the mood to argue.

He hooked his fingers around the sides of your underwear, dragging it down your legs as he sucked in a sharp breath, eyes fixed on you.

He pressed his tongue against your clit without any warning, your hand reaching out to grab hold of his hair as you steadied your breathing.

"Fuck darlin, you always taste incredible."

He spit hard, using his saliva as lube as he dove back in, his tongue lapping you up. You rolled your hips into him, needy for his friction. No one knew you quite like him, knew just where to touch you to bring you to the brink.

He pressed his mouth against you, alternating between pushing his tongue inside you and circling your clit in a steady rhythm. You could barely breath as you felt his tongue glide through your folds, savouring your wetness, his mouth curling into an amused smile as he listened to your gasps.

Right when he felt you tensing up he focused all his attention onto your clit, sending you over the edge as you gripped onto his hair, rolling your head back in a pornographic moan. He kept his movements quick as you came, your body shaking as he kept up the stimulation.

Your body sunk back against the seat, your head pressed against the inside of your cardoor as you tried to shed the pounding in your ears. He pulled away, kissing along your leg.

"You got a pen anywhere in here sweetheart?" He looked around, you were suddenly aware once again of the state of your car.

You leant down, rustling your hand on the floor without looking until you landed on the marker you knew you'd left there, handing it to him.

He held the lid between his teeth, popping it open and drawing a short line on your inner thigh, "That's one."

You bit your lip as you looked down at him marking your skin, taking you as his own.

He began to kiss up your leg again, making his way back towards your core.

You let your hand comb through his sweat ridden hair, breathing hard, "Just give me a minute, yeah?"

"What, and ruin this gorgeous high you've got going on? No chance, darlin'." He pressed his tongue against you again, slower this time, gently stroking it through your wetness.

You groaned, rolling your head back as he sucked lightly at your swollen clit. He knew how sensitive you got after you came, and he fully intended to use it to his advantage.

He teased the tip of his finger at your entrance, feeling as your pussy pulsed around him. He moaned against you, sending the vibrations through your body. Pushing his finger into you, you bit your bottom lip again, swallowing down any other noises.

He began thrusting into you slowly, even one finger filling you as his tongue sped up its movements. You arched your back into him, a second orgasm rising quickly. He pushed another finger into you, stretching you out, your breath shaking as you shut your eyes again.

He sucked on your clit again, pushing another desperate wave of pleasure through you. You reached out, seeking stability on the seats around you as you felt your body clench again. And then release. He slowed his movements, only just, as you came again on his tongue, your legs tightening up around him.

"Dean- fuck-" you couldn't stop your sounds, your body quaking.

You guided his face away from you as you let your body relax again into the seat, his movements almost to much to bare as he gently pulled his fingers out of you, sticking them in his mouth to continue savouring your taste.

Without a word, he reached down for the marker he'd thrown to one side, wetting his lips as he drew another line next to the first, "That's two."

He went to press his mouth against you again but you stopped him, cupping his cheek to get him to look at you, "Really, baby, can't take much more."

Baby wasn't a nickname you used. Not for him, not ever. But as your mind stayed fogged from your pleasure you didn't even realize you'd said it. And he didn't mind- his face tingling with secret enjoyment.

He lifted himself off of you, pushing the marker behind his ear as he moved quickly, his hands wrapping around your waist as he moved to sit, pulling you on top of him in a straddle. You slumped against him, your body exhausted, your forehead pressed against his.

"We'll never break our record with that attitude, sweetheart."

"It's just your tongue, Dean, i's'too much-" you kissed him lightly, his lips plump against yours.

"Well why don't we go at your pace then, darlin'?" He held your hips, lowering you down onto his leg. You bit your lip as you felt you pussy come into contact with the jeans on his thigh, rough against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He pushed your hips gently, getting you to rut against him. You held his shoulders to keep yourself steady as you began moving, harsh pleasure hitting you instantly.

"Dean- fuck- it's too-"

He kissed you, his thumbs rubbing small circles into your hips, "That's it, nice and slow, keep yourself steady for me."

You focused on his voice as he guided you through it, grinding against his thigh with your breath held.

"Good girl, that's it." He moved one hand to your stomach, commanding your movements, "You're doing so well for me, darlin', that feel good?"

You collapsed your body into him, your head leaning against his shoulder, "Oomf- fuck- yes-"

"Good girl, good girl, keep moving, keep your pussy on me. Fuck- I can feel how wet you are even through my jeans-" he chuckled lightly, kissing the top of your head, "You look so good grinding on me- gonna get you to do this every time if you're not careful."

You gripped your hand around his bicep, your fingers pressed into him as you felt another orgasm rising inside you.

"Keep yourself steady, sweetheart- focus on your body. You feel that? Feel that sweet spot- you're screaming out for more, I can tell- let it fill you up, that excess, darlin', let it consume you. Keep moving, there's a good girl, you want to come again, don't y'? You wanna come on my thigh?"

You nodded into his shoulder, a small whimper falling out of your lips in desperation.

"Be a good girl for me, sweetheart, be good." He spoke softer as he pressed his lips against your skin, "Come for me."

You did as he commanded, your body quaking as you rutted against him, your fingers digging into him, letting out a loud cry, another orgasm taking control as your body quaked. Your movements began to slow but he kept his hands tight on you, keeping your grinding steady as you rode it out.

He pressed his mouth into your neck, soft kisses as you lifted yourself off his thigh, straddling him properly again, your body still shaking slightly as you tried to come back to reality, blinking hard. He leant back, carefully checking your face for confirmation you were okay, before kissing you again.

He pushed you backwards slightly to give himself better access as he took the pen from behind his ear, once again pulling off it's cap with his teeth and placing it between your legs, drawing another small line, "That's three, darlin'."

"Jesus, Dean, you'll be the death of me!" You sighed, coming to your senses.

You looked down, watching as he carefully palmed the bulge growing in his pants, "You think you can take one more?"

You nodded slowly, however spent you felt, you still wanted his cock buried inside you.

You watched as he quickly undid his belt with one hand, pulling at the top of his pants as his other hand gripped your hip tight again. His cock sprung free, solid and throbbing, watching you come so many times already pushing him to the edge. He guided you above him, lining himself up with you, before gently lowering you down, his cock sinking into your already sensitive opening.

He held your hips still as he began to thrust into you from below, watching you carefully. He pressed his mouth into your neck, small kisses across your skin as you moaned into him, your body shaking with pleasure.

Once his pace was steady he began moving his hands over you, ghosting your curves with the pads of his fingers, gentle movements, his digits hot against you, sending soft tingles all over your body. He let one hand slide under your shirt, brushing over your breast, his thumb grazing your nipple only slightly.

"You feel so good, sweetheart." He sped up his thrusting, his own heartbeat stuck in his throat as he felt your pussy tight around him.

You began to roll your own hips in time with him, pushing him deeper until he was completely filling you, your sensitive clit colliding with him on every pound. You moved your hands to his chest, steadying yourself as you both moved, the small car filled with hot breath.

He groaned, desperate, his fingers dancing over your nipples, sending shivers through you. He swallowed hard, his eyes locked on yours, "You close?"

You bit your lip, nodding in response as you felt another orgasm rise in you, his cock stretching you out.

"That's it, keep going, wanna feel you coming on my cock, darlin'."

His words send another spike of pleasure through you as you continued to roll your hip, his thrusting from below only becoming harder. You screwed up your hands in the fabric of his shirt, the tension filling you once again. You couldn't focus on anything but your dam about to burst.

"Dean, I'm gonna-"

He pressed his lips against yours as you came, a moan escaping your lips flowing into his mouth as he pushed into you, hard, your pussy contracting around his cock. Stars danced behind your eyes as you continued to move your body, your climax skewering the coil in your stomach.

The moment he felt your movements falter, Dean pulled out, his own orgasm spilling out of him without warning, his cum plastering your thigh. He let out a groan as your hand reached down instinctively, stroking him through his completion, your thumb pressed against his tip.

You both sat panting, your bodies covered in sweat and each other, as your movements slowed, both of you twitching in relief. After a moment you rolled off of him, taking your seat next to him as you pulled your blanket up to wipe his cum off of your leg. He watched you carefully before reaching back out to you, pen in hand, and drawing the final tally mark on your leg.

"That's four, new record." He smiled at you, hooking his finger under your chin for a kiss.

You shook your head, smiling as your bliss started to slump again, "You shouldn't have called, Dean, I was busy..."

"Oh yeah, hot date?" He pushed his cock back into his pants, beginning to buckle them back up as he chuckled.

"Yeah, smoking hot, tall dark and handsome." You watched as his expression faltered slightly, doubt creeping in. "A murderous demon with an appetite for murder, what's not to love!"

He relaxed again, lowering his shoulders and swallowing hard.

You waited a beat before opening up your door again, climbing out as you pulled your skirt back down. He followed your lead, stepping out into the cold night air, trying to pull himself together as he watched you do the same. Both of you were messy, clearly sexed out, the pen tally, although now hidden, still burning into your thigh, a small patch on his jeans from where you'd ridden him.

You slid back into the driver's seat, letting him clamber into the passenger side, a position neither of you were used to when around each other.

"Come on," you sighed, "let's go find your brother."

"He'll've reached the motel by now, sweetheart, we weren't exactly quick." He eyed you carefully, "You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Let's get burgers."

"What, just us?"

"C'mon sweetheart, my treat, give you a proper thank-you."

[kogetaikid]

TW: Enraged only child. (Thanks for making me have to type this out, world! /nbh)

Y’know what?!

FUCK SIBLINGS!!!!!

Please reblog if:

You’re an only child who wishes they had a sibling

You cry yourself to sleep because you’ll never have siblings

You’re an only child who’s glad they don’t have siblings

You’re an only child, but feel really neutral about it, and don’t care (in that case, I’m happy for you.)

Please reblog if:

You’re an only child living in a big house

You’re an only child living below poverty line

You’re an only child living in a middle class household

You’re an only child with divorced parents

You’re an only child with a happy family

You’re an only child with only one parent

You’re an only child who was adopted

Please reblog if:

You’re a teen and an only child

You’re and adult and an only child

You’re an only child with a lot of friends

You’re an only child with no friends

You’re an only child with one best friend

Please reblog if:

You were born an only child

You have a deceased sibling

If your parents had some sort of health complications that made them unable to have another child

YOU GUYS ARE EPIC AND JUST AS WORTHY OF LOVE, IF NOT, NEED IT A LITTLE MORE THAN YOU THINK!!!

NOT ALL OF US ARE SPOILED OR HAVE IT EASY!!! THERE ARE MANY ONLY CHILDREN OUT THERE THAT HAVE HAD SOME FUCKING SHITTY CHILDHOODS!!!!

THIS HAS BEEN A PSA

(PS: Probably just posting this out of a sleepless rage, but lately I’ve just been reminding myself how much I distract myself from my problems and how others distract me, but at the end of the day, it’s never gonna stop me from hating myself for being conceived, so the least I can to is try to find people like me.)

(PSS: Anything I missed? Let me know!)

[escapenightmare]

sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.

you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?

but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.

zero notifications.

well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.

and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.

do you hate him?

he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).

Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me

nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.

by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”

“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.

ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.

you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”

“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”

“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”

huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”

“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”

your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”

“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.

“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.

he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”

“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”

during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.

yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.

[kalims]

⭒ㅤwhose (not) random kid

premise. crash landing from the future is apparently your kid, not that you know that anyway... in the form of a mixture between you, and your... supposed counterpart, clues are bound to pile up as to whose child this is.

parts. rosehearts, kingscholar, ashengrotto, al asim, schoenheit, shroud, draconia

cont. gender neutral reader, use of 'mada' which is just 'mama' and 'dada' cut in half for our resident shrimp (aka yuu), a yummy 5.8k words that I did not expect to get this long lol

note. I only have a rough outline of what's going to be included with the others parts after the names of the kids lol. I'll probably write leona's as usual after this but I can't promise I'll release one more part after his this month, the rest will probably come next month considering I'm bombarded sadge. paper defense, then final exams next month save me

also hello! my unnofficial: I'll try to post more

late edit: comment if you want to get tagged <3

riddle

when you slid a foot over the portal to heartslabyul there’s some sort of a strange–inexplicable air that surrounds it. usually the dimension is light to be in, unlike the tingling feelings of being in octavinelle or the eeriness of ignihyde. all dormitories had their own particular sensation that weighs on you depending on where you were.

you squinted, deciding to shrug it off. there was no way you had a sixth sense for feeling in the literal air!

barely a foot in though, was something you could only explain as an army of card… soldiers trudging from the other end of the sidewalk to the next. dumbly, you stopped right in front the shimmering portal that settles into a smooth sheen of silver behind you as they just kept coming.

they seemed to be looking for something–or whatever but you don’t really want to know what so you slowly inched to the side, hoping to sneak past them even if you had to go into one of the confusing mazes (which was a struggle considering you’re trying not to laugh as one of them trips).

must be ace’s wretchedness rubbing off of you.

the real question was, where in the seven were your resident idiots? you’d already sent a text over for your impromptu visit to the chat consisting of you three and figured they had seen it like they usually do then waited for you with feigned begrudging-ness that does not fit well with them showing up in the first place. 

you fish for your sad excuse for a phone in your pocket, cater’s words not yours. you’re more busy trying to merge your backside as you shuffle and pull up the chat to notice the ever nearing edge of the hedge wall that makes you stand out in comparison to the lighter shade of green brushing against your uniform.

not deuce: you guys ever notice the card soldiers infestation near ur mirror portal…?

not ace: you nedea to RNR RUN RN!!

not yuu: what???

there’s not much time to ponder about the cryptic, seemingly panicked expression of deuce’s message as you looked up from your phone, feeling a slight chill crawl up to your spine like you attracted some sort of unwarranted trouble that is also unwanted.

disclaimer: you (uu) did

“over here!” an unfamiliar voice yells, freezing you in your tracks just when you were about to make the sneak of the century. without a moment’s hesitation you darted deeper into the maze and shoved your device within the confines of your pockets as you held in a mortified scream at the sudden mob upon your tail as you ran.

WHY WAS THERE SO MANY? you yelled in your mind. number one rule in horror games don’t look back. don’t look back. don’t look back–

oh sevens you’re looking back.

the decision immediately fills you with regret when you spot the diabolical amount of card soldiers trailing after you like you just slaughtered their queen in front of whatever kingdom they came from! was this someone’s unique magic? there was no way riddle would let this sort of thing go rampant on his dorm!

you almost keel over in shock when the pointy end of a heart on the end of a pole sticks right on the patch of grass you just barely managed to trudge across with increasingly heavier steps. maybe you should actually take jack’s offer to join track and field–your stamina is horrible–you’re gonna get stabbed.

goodbye world. you thought warmly with a chorus of pants.

a deeper voice bellowed from the crowd from your behind. “three of hearts! are you thin-headed? do not harm the majesty!” the steps behind you stop almost abruptly, and you don’t stop running even as the voices fade. idiots for choosing to chastise their idiotic comrade but you’re not complaining as long as you get away from this horrid situation.

your majesty what now?

you don’t know how far you ran by sticking to all left turns until you flop down on the entrance of the maze, the archway barely offering you any relief as you took deep breaths and fought the urge to lay down on the grass and hope it camouflages your grey uniform.

that won’t work but you’re coping at this point.

not deuce: HELLO  I ALMOST GOT SKEWERED BY LITERAL CARDS?

not yuu: that’s a humiliating way to go down from

not ace: don’t be insensitive ace! are you ok?!

not deuce: NO? WHAT IS GOING ON

not yuu: riddle got dethroned and i'm not even happy

not yuu: it's the absolute WORST AT THE DORM!

not yuu: you better turn back rn and get away from ‘labyul coz it’s getting run by a kid

not deuce: BACK INTO THAT DEATH MOB? no thanks

not ace: yuu brace up, cater texted that the new boss is on his way to you

not yuu: F for yuu

not ace: F

not deuce: F u

what you expect to be the final boss of your life, you guess from the approaching pairs of footsteps nearing your defeated form sprawled across the flecks of grass and still heaving comes in a surprising form of softness, and youth.

“mada.” 

the blueness of the sky is shadowed by a tiny little head peering over your head. you’re startled by the tuff of red hair, and familiar pair of eyes which was strange, considering you have never seen this kid in your life. this was the new queen of heartlsabyul? you thought incredulously, since when were kids allowed in nrc…?

the thought was a breeding ground to raise the most evil person on the planet, considering the equally as evil people in night raven.

out of habit from the familiar chubby, round face you blurted: “riddle?”

the child blinked before they shook your head. “I am not papa.” their lips twitched into a small smile directed to you. if taken a closure look, this child’s resemblance with riddle really is uncanny. from the hair, even to a small golden crown sitting primly on the middle of their head. “mada, I am glad I found you. I have not seen papa yet.”

was this season 5 of stranger things?

they straightened. attention straying from you as you glanced to the other pairs of legs, whom you put a face to quickly. trey and cater both cast you a look of exasperation and pity.

then done like a true riddle–their face does a complete 360 and curls into anger as they stared off inside the maze. “all of you!” the tiny child rages with a concerning… change of color around their cute face, fingers pointed accusingly. how can a child be so horrifyingly scary?

the two third years do not mirror your confusion as you sat up, following the kid’s gaze to the archway where a myriad of thundering footsteps almost have you scampering away if not for them laying a small hand on your shoulder and somehow managing to ground you to stay still.

whose kid is this? you looked to cater who shakes his head uselessly

then to trey who wore a resigned smile.

the child’s brow twitches when the card soldiers lined up obediently. “I thought I had made it clear you not hurt mada.” they seethed, voice tilting in clear threat and a I demand you! sort of way. the card solider, three of hearts who had scared the living soul out of you trembled less subtle compared to the other guards.

of course this child had to get more terrifying by being observant, they caught the shiver of one soldier and narrowed their eyes. “ah, found the culprit. three of–”

trey shuffles forward with an awkward laugh that belies his usual laid back with–on his face is a twinge of concern as he raises his palms in a placating gesture. he steps forward three more times, sliding between the child and the line of soldiers but keeping the distance warily. “hey, kid. maybe we can discuss this with some tarts, and some tea?” he tries. children love sweets, right?

they keep their head level despite the astounding height difference. “I told you, uncle trey! being called ‘kid’ is disorderly! It's alice!” still, despite the brief protest their eyes sparkled with interest at the notion, even if they seemed a bit embarrassed to admit it. “i’m not supposed to eat sweets on mondays.” 

“huh.” cater mumbled before the thin line of his lips rose into a familiar grin. “as in, rule 102 of the queen?” he queries with a nervous slide of his fingers through his hair. he’s not so obvious to directly state that he’s tiptoeing around… alice but a bit of months knowing him, you can tell.

alice nods along. they no longer look as bothered as before, the card soldiers all slump their tense shoulders a little when alice shifts their piercing gaze from the three of hearts before settling onto cater, who they offer a brief nod of agreement before returning back to trey.

well, a kid is a kid. 

“but i can eat sweets on tuesdays.” they added hastily. like they don’t want the notion of trey’s treats slipping from their fingers but that would be strange, if the look of confusion you three share with each other you would have thought trey had initially baked for alice based off the tone of wistfulness in their tone.

trey smiles at them. “tomorrow it is.” reassured by their sheepish innocence he stops in front of them and grasps their shoulders, turning them away from the stiff soldiers. alice spares a brief glance at them. “what about these rule breakers?”

you stood up fully. “uh, don’t worry, they didn’t do anything wrong. i ran for too long.” you supplied in defense. if anything , a resemblance to riddle of all people meant that they could have the head offing in their blood. you did not want to stick around to find out, neither did cater.

alice considers you for a moment with a small sparkle in their eyes, with a wave of the small wand that maternalized in their hand, the soldiers fade into glittering spots of gold. only then do they let trey lead them back to the main pathway towards the dormitory of heartslabyul.

you fall into step behind cater who probably sees the question in your eyes so he lowers his voice discreetly, glancing at the back of trey who keeps the child’s bay attention so they don’t notice you two slowing down a little. nonetheless, still walking.

“that was little alice’s unique magic.” he says to you with a shrug, sighing after a glance at the former’s small, regal form. “pretty overpowered… kind of like my split card but less cute, and more dangerous.”

he winked, you frowned.

in front of you two, alice seems tame in comparison to the subtle bribing of trey questioning about their favorite sweets as you all finally reached the nearing entrance of the main dormitory

“where’s riddle?” you questioned.

he pursed his lips, navigating though the fountain in front of the dorm. “last i know, he went out early to campus cause of a meeting with his club for the upcoming NRC tour festival…” 

oh, right. I have not found papa. alice’s voice echoes in your mind, so you echo the question that appears in your mind right after the memory. “alice called riddle ‘papa’ which i’m pretty sure is a term for a parent…” you trailed off. riddle seemed to be the least likely person to have a secret love child of some sorts, he seemed like he had most of his life planned out.

if riddle bent over backwards for his rules then he wouldn’t stray from the path he had set.

there’s a flash of interest in cater’s eyes, it was already there before, just dwindled. you watch it spark to life. akin to lighting some sort of fire within the guy, a gossipmonger at heart as he leaned in eagerly just as you both trudged up the stairs to the front doors who opened politely, and closed behind you as you walked in the main hall of heartslabyul.

“they look, and act like riddle!” he chuckles. “imagine our shock when alice popped up straight out of nowhere with an army at their beck and call.” cater clutched onto his arms, and shivered. you leaned away when he reaches his arms out to you in a teasing manner.

he adds. not at all offended by the way you scrunch your face at his ‘affections’. “they seem to listen to you though. like someone.”

you only regard him with an impassive raise of your brows. “i don't think so. riddle doesn’t listen to anyone. much less me.” befuddled by the mere idea, you scoffed. in all your magic-less glory, the best thing you might have achieved here in this other dimension was having the ability to wake leona kingscholar up from one of his power naps.

cater doesn’t seem to agree. only sighing at you from what it seems to be an of course. “only you can be so oblivious to the chaos you leave behind.” he says in response, making an exaggerated show of peering behind your shoulder and widening his eyes in feigned shock.

you humor him as you turned your head. the scene of the main entrance of the dormitory was the only answer to your eyes as you both walked into the living room–where little alice sits alone. you caught a glimpse of trey’s dark hair as he disappeared into the kitchen, most likely going off to make her a treat.

vaguely unsure if the male had heard him, cater calls out a “make us some too!”

“not my fault the students here are so… unstable.” you remarked with a roll of your eyes. remembering the overblots to be the most plausible reference to the chaos cater was talking about as you begrudgingly sat down on the couch and reeled in any other remarks for the child in the room.

who was now shuffling closer to your seated frame even if they thought they were being subtle in the movement.

what was two seats in the space between you and alice eventually became none at all, as they settled beside you and peered up with innocent eyes.

you tilted your head at them, alice copies the movement.

then to the other side.

they mirror the lull of your head.

“besides those.” cater cleared his throat after a bewildered glance at the child. “what’s more impressive is that you’re still here, yuu-yuu. night raven is like… a pack of wolves trying to run you off crying, and you? you’re a very weird sheep.”

still a bit enraptured on this child, you replied without your stare wavering from the roundness of alice’s cheek as you reached up to pinch it. to yours, and cater’s surprise. their previous cute ferociousness is not present at all as they leaned against the warmth as though instinctive. “i didn’t do anything.”

you don’t entertain the accusing look in cater’s eyes.

“if that was you not trying to beast tame the school then i don’t know what’ll happen if you put in the effort.”

you both lapse into silence as cater–who seemed to sense the finality of the conversation lets it slip fully and instead, busies himself with the entertainments his phone provided. you redirect your full attention onto the elusive red-headed alice.

“so,” you started. “how did you end up here? must be a great feat if you were able to go past the barriers.”

alice curls their fingers within the fabric of your blazer, inspecting it as they reply softly. “i’m not sure, mada. i was just sleeping, and woke up in a garden. the hedgehogs showed me the way after i offered them a caterpillar.” they do not mention a bleary moment in their sleep where they curiously wondered how you and riddle came to be as they drifted off. “as pertaining by rule 210… if you are lost in a maze, give the hedgehogs an offering and they shall show you the way.”

you can’t help but let your mind drift over to riddle, who echoes the rules to be followed when mentioned.

your lips twitch into a smile, much to the delight of alice. “strange indeed. must have been scary.”

their eyes squinted. “i’m not scared.”

you chuckled and pinched their cheek. they pout.

“where are you from?” you ask instead, wanting to know more about the.. figurative alice from nowhere. 

alice looks at you strangely.

“from the queendom of roses…” could they simply be a relative of riddle’s? you thought mindlessly. drawing your fingers through the surprising soft red locks who seemingly part eagerly for your touch. “with my mada, and my papa. sometimes my uncles visit.”

unsure of how to reply, you merely nod along. parting their hair by half and twisting it into a braid. “you called me mada.” you hummed.

“because you are my mada.”

she says like it’s the only thing that makes sense in her small world, not relinquishing her grip on your blazer but instead tugging at the wrists to expose the small slither of skin and hold onto it. clingy. you thought, deciding not to question it.

… was this your freaking kid?

the smell of strawberries wafts over the space of the living room alongside the ticking of the oven–momentarily taking both alice, and cater’s attention. the latter stretches before standing to stride over to the source of the smell, no doubt requesting trey to change the taste once more.

alice’s eyes, like yours slid to your own. a bit shy in their demeanor as they clutched onto the skin of your wrist. “can i eat some of uncle’s tarts?” they queried under your breath, only meant for you alone. you felt a bit confused but nodded nonetheless. 

their lips twitched into an eager smile before it settles into a more controlled look of impassiveness.

that was adorable. you thought, unable to resist leaning down to scoop them into your arms as you stood. alice makes a sound of brief surprise before their arms loop around your neck. they sat pliantly still as you walked over to follow cater inside the kitchen, catching a glimpse of your scent that they sought for, so alice nuzzles their face into the warm pulse on your neck.

trey glances up from the animated retelling of cater about the crazy day. “new responsibility?” he wore a humored smile, apron long discarded and folded over the handle of the oven for the meantime.

if riddle saw this, he would not believe it no matter how intelligent he was. trey deduced.

he gestures to the tray set on the counter. “there’s frosted strawberries, blueberry cornmeal, and the good old mont blanc since i got left over ingredients from the last unbirthday party.” 

alice feels the shift of your head as you glanced down at them, they don’t remove their head from the crevice of your neck for a moment and meets your eyes with a raise of their own. “frosted strawberries, please.”

“good choice, little alice.” cater comments.

“careful, it’s hot.” trey chided gently as he watched you pick up one of them, drawing it near alice’s waiting hunger as they tilted their head up from your shoulder. they took a small bite at the corners of the tart, smiling at the taste and only wider when you wiped remnants of crumbs around the edges of their mouth.

alice chews, and swallows before they spoke again. their eyes gleaming with admiration as they stared at trey. “it’s always the yummiest when it’s fresh out the oven.” they recited.

trey blinks.

“you’re a bright one.” he remarked, ruffling their hair when he drew near. “don’t tell anyone about the wicked secret ‘round the kitchen, all right?”

they nodded vigorously. “thank you, uncle..” they spewed politely, but evidently genuine.

cater munches from the other end of the counter. “we gotta protect alice,” he chuckled, eyes crinkling as he pointed his phone to you, tapping to snap a picture of the scene despite your warning stare. “too nice for the vultures we call students here.” 

“you might be right.” trey shook his head, and you nodded mutely. more absorbed into letting them take bite by bite into the tart until it was about finished halfway. only then do you lay it back on the tray. how much sweets was ideal for a child to take anyway? regardless of you deeming it as enough, alice stays quiet and does not complain.

if they wanted more, you wouldn’t know.

“later.” you promised, leaning back when you were satisfied with their prim appearance. a pat of their hair to smooth down trey’s earlier disruption.

“later..” alice echoed. 

a resident third year enters the kitchen. only to pause in their tracks and back away.

“domesticity is really the enemy of the students here.” cater sniffed, earning a chuckle from trey who found the comment funny. “imagine being happy, being broody and emotional are the real requirements to get admitted.”

cater finishes his snack with a pleased hum, and a grateful nod to trey. “by the way i messaged adeuce, sent them to stall dorm leader from going back as long as the dorm was… kind of in a wre–predicament.” he cleared his throat, casting a brief glance at alice to spot if they had taken offence to his almost uttered word.

“so now they’re en-route?” trey guessed, transferring the leftover tarts to a glass bowl. leaving the tray in the sink to wash for later. cater nods in response, typing on his phone with one hand. likely in cahoots with the two right now. “told them the coast was clear! no more trampling soldiers scampering around.”

trey eyed him. “what about the–”

just then, whatever trey was going to comment in rebuttal of cater’s easy reassurance was promptly interrupted by new individuals peeking inside. ace, and deuce poked their heads from the corner. as if trying to ascertain the danger level of whatever may be inside.

ace rougly nudges deuce when he spots you with a child in arms. for two people insisting on their unique, varying selfs. they mirror each other’s look of bewilderment as though their brain cells crackled and connected into a singular one. “what the seven?” ace mouthed.

you all do not notice the look of familiarity on alice’s face.

nor the brightening when riddle strides in with a petulant huff,

if riddle thought strangely, or disapproved of the two’s behavior then he wouldn’t have had the chance to comment on it before he was leveling trey with a sharp, inquisitive stare. “i would like a very good explanation as to why my hedges have been mangled to the ground.” his eye twitches with the effort of containing irritation. “three hours i’ve been gone. three! and when i enter heartslabyul the first thing i see is devastation upon my gardens!”

perhaps emotionally, riddle cried out in the last sentence.

even though such an expression should have frightened a child to some degree, alice relaxes in your arms but their face clouds in shame at his voice.

riddle whirls back to the other two lingering by the doorway who both flinches imperceptibly–cater tries to intercept with a nervous chuckle but is only met with a steely don’t even start! “ace, and deuce have me running around the school. saying something about yuu getting kidnapped by those.. vermin excuses of… students from octavinelle!" riddle seethed, breathing still a bit labored as favor of his statement about running around.

“dorm leader!” ace stood straight stiffly.

oh, did he just come from a frantic search in octavinelle?

“i even had to threaten collaring azul who i thought was lying about yuu.” with a deep intake of air, riddle breathes out and pinches the bridge of his nose, collecting his temper. much to the chagrin of deuce.

“we apologize.” deuce added sadly.

cater feigns ignorance by looking away but it’s trey’s look that has him adding to the defense of the two, rather than using the opportunity to scamper away with his head in tact. “ahem… we had these two keep you busy. so don’t be too harsh on them, riddle. us upperclassmen will take responsibility.”

a nod of agreement from trey gets riddle quiet.

the former tilts his chin to you. “yuu is fine, they’re right here.”

like he hadn’t even noticed before (he really didn’t), riddle’s head snaps to you immediately. his eyes would have been stuck to you, prodding for a valid explanation to your ignorance to his angry calls but instead, settles on the bundle in your arms.

“who…” a blink. “why in the world do you have a child! they are not welcome on school grounds! especially this time in the school year–.” riddle sputtered, instinctively sauntering over to take a closer look at alice who only stared without an inch of fear.

“papa.” they mumbled, voice measured but still echoing in the now quiet kitchen.

ace leapt up to your side. “that’s not right!” he gasped, squinting dangerously at riddle. any traces of earlier mortification gave way to whatever emotion he’s got on his face. “how could you sully yuu! they’re not a babysitter for your kid!” 

“what?” riddle seethed, head flicking from ace, to you, then to alice.

despite a look of great reluctance, deuce nods from the doorway still. mumbling to himself. “dorm… dorm leader has a child…”

you vaguely remember trey offering the dazed guy a glass of water.

“unconfirmed earlier, confirmed now.” cater adds unhelpfully to the blazing fire of riddle’s rising anger.

riddle’s teeth grind together, jaw clenching as his fingers tightened into a fist. it was more of one his attempts at calming down rather than preparation for a physical alteration. “I did no such–!”

“don’t be mad at mada.” alice reaches for him, tugging at his blazer which surprisingly, quells the reddening of his face. now, he just looks a bit confused.

alice turns their head slightly. “mada, you can calm down papa.”

deuce paused before dropping to the ground.

“AH! he’s dead. this is why you don’t betray us by keeping secrets, yuu!” 

“uh oh… trey help me with deuce… wait, should we just leave him? i mean, he’ll be just fine here, right?”

“... just take the other arm, cater.”

all the way back to the living room, riddle’s face remained tinged with warmth. alice, while reluctant to part with your embrace, seemed wholly pleased to stay by the other red-heads' side. insisting you sit next to him when you moved to sit by your two friends.

you obliged them despite riddle’s interest with the carpet.

the couch dipped at the weight of another. even so, the non-verbal conversation between alice, and riddle continued. the former pressed their lips together thinly, seemingly assessing the… youthfulness of the latter. they aren’t so used to this kind of look from him.

cater flinched, and look away from the flash of his phone. he elbows a dazed deuce.

“so,” ace cleared his throat, blinking his still wide eyes. “who the heck is this kid?!”

“language.” riddle chided sharply. though softened from its usual end even he isn’t so sure why it is from the mere presence of alice alone. 

“rule 13, always present yourself with appropriate language.”

“always present yourself with appropriate language.” alice repeated.

riddle squinted at a relaxed alice, who tilts their head as if to ask ‘what?’.

“genetics is crazy. what’s next, the kid beheads us too?” ace points between the two. 

alice shrugged. “only if you break the rules.”

“i do not have a child!” riddle protested.

“i am your child.” replied alice.

“apparently this one’s our kid.” you agreed begrudgingly.

riddle stares at you with a mixture of disbelief, and confusion.

darting between you and the kid like they're gonna start collating him in all his glory! sure, alice had red hair like him but quite a lot of people in the island have it too besides his relatives. the idea of… of him and you is just so out of this world that he can't wrap his head around it.

you? you who he hadn't paid attention to when you arrived at the ceremony? the very first person in that event that broke the rules? you, the very fading into the background student whom he believed to be a bad influence to his students ace, and deuce? 

you he had almost hurt beyond repair at the bursting of his control so tightly held in his hands?

the brief skip of his heart when your eyes meet over the head of alice is enough to send blood rushing to his head, coloring it with his signature red whose warmth doesn't feel like the usual simmering anger he struggles to keep submerged. if anything, this feeling is practically leaping out the water and baring his face to everyone. 

riddle does not look away. managing a look of what he tries to name as conviction but easily crumbles to fluster.

then the idea wasn't so bad considering this young child has proved to be raised dutifully, correctly without any worries of what he used to be burdened with as a child.

it gives way to curiosity. 

despite his incredulously, riddle queries. “the gardens.” he starts with a measured narrow to his eyes, not too intense to possibly upset this.. future child of his whose eyes are strikingly familiar enough to halt the normal circulation of his heart once more for half a second. “were you responsible for the destruction of some hedges I've come across?”

alice shrinks into themselves. “i'm sorry papa.” they pursed their lips, voice genuine by the lower tilt. “i thought i could use my card soldiers to look for you, and mada. you told me about this place called heartslabyul before?”

“i have?” riddle blinks. the idea isn't too bizarre, it's only natural to think back on such things.

they nodded. “yes, papa. you talk about it a lot on our friday’s. about how it looked, how you were as it's dorm leader…” alice peeks a glance at you. “and your parties with mada.”

“unbirthday parties.” trey corrects. “sometimes birthday parties if it really is someone's birthday.”

ace perks up. “let me tell you then! from first hand experience!” he blanched. like opening light about his own struggles in heartlsabyul magically meant the truth to riddle’s own kid. “labyul is really strict on rules. you know on my first day, I ate a tart and—”

deuce stirred slightly.

at riddle’s glare, ace visibly wilts to which cater snaps a picture with snickers. “I mean… the tart was really good, made by riddle and all…” he sweatdropped.

“you shouldn't eat a tart that is not made by you.” alice replied thoughtfully. riddle can't resist a light smile at her words, feeling a sense of accomplishment as he nodded along. his hand hovers for a moment before it pats down on their hair. “that's right. I must have taught you well.”

you absentmindedly patted their head, taking turns with riddle to do so while  expertly avoiding his gaze. “you said friday though, why?”

“on friday’s we don’t go out.” alice says.

“that isn’t a rule by the queen of hearts.” riddle points out.

“you made that rule papa.” they replied innocently. “in our home, so we get to spend time together as a family.”

silence reigns.

“wow.” you cough. sparing riddle an approving glance. that… sounded nice… domestic, and nice. you supposed even as an adult riddle would still have some sort of grip on rules, considering he grew up with them, it helped him live.

and now rules he shaped helped him live with alice, and you apparently. 

tick.

tock.

tick.

tock.

alice peers down at the watch they pull out from under their little adorable coat, oblivious to the stunned silence they left behind. hesitantly, they place a hand on your knee, legs swinging as they rest the other on riddle’s. “mada.” they smiled, this time widely. “papa. I gotta go.”

“what?” riddle's eyes widened. “you haven't finished your tart yet.”

“it's okay. I already ate a tart earlier, papa.”

“you can eat another, just this time. if you want.” he insisted, strangely worried.

cater raises his hand. “can I?”

riddle disagrees immediately. “no.”

muttering something about favoritism, cater looked away with a long sigh.

riddle's eyes lingered on the roundness of alice's face. from the shape, to the more detailed parts of their features. eyes, your eyes. the lushness of their hair, the soft curve of their lips tilted with innocence sends an unexpected grip in his heart, like it's heart stopping.

gosh. his heart just stopped. would he really have his own alice? his eyes darted to you. with you?

alice huffed lightly, skin glimmering lightly as their shade slowly grew transculent and faded with each blink of your eyes. “I can always eat papa's tarts. they're so delicious.” 

“don't use too much magic.” riddle scolded with a crease in his brows.

you add. “don't anger riddle too much.”

“please eat his tarts.” ace encouraged.

trey shot him a look. “don't teach alice bad things.” he sighed, glancing at said child with a smile. “I'll teach you how to make your own tarts, ask uh… future me?”

cater, not wanting to be outdone quickly perked up. “as a future magicam star, I'll make you one too. little alice!” he added, self assured of his future fame.

when it all settles, all that remains is a space between you and riddle that feels too little than vast. and a remainder of your future.

“atleast we know what name we'll choose.” you can't resist but tease. riddle does not blow up like you would have thought from your remark, only sparing you a look of feigned annoyance with warming ears that doesn't support the idea of his irritation.

he resigns to a small nod. “I am assured they are taught well.”

ace glances between you, and riddle. “I miss alice already. riddle seemed a lot more lenient with them around. you think they got embarrassing stories from the future?” he comments off-handedly, leaning back against the couch and blowing on the fringe over his forehead. “when are you guys gonna make an alice? please make one now.”

cater whistles out of there.

trey shakes his head.

deuce–still passed out is thankfully considered by trey, who dragged his limp body with a nod of goodluck to ace.

you waved at ace. F indeed.

wait! don't leave me, upperclassman! ace cried in his mind, feeling the panic splinter his state of mind.

“ACE!” riddle gritted his teeth. “i'll hand down my sentence, the verdict comes afterwards–”

ace paled.

“off with your head–!”

trivia

alice’s name is very much inspired by alice from the one and only: “alice in wonderland”.

their unique magic is called: under my decree which is simply being able to summon card soldiers, and command them at their will! (in this case, after being sent to a maze and finding their way out thanks to the hedgehog. alice was able to discern that this was heartlsabyul, and figured they might be able to find their parents here, hence, why they used their magic.)

alice is written to be a well-behaved 8 year old.

the watch is a nod to my previous commissioned work who also dealt with the concept of time travelling and related to going back (ha, ha).

alice woke up by the sound of a clock ticking, and knew that hearing it again meant that their time was up.

the entire thing happened due to alice helping untangle a fae who happened to get stuck in their gardens at the backyard while they were looking for a hedgehog that had not yet eaten (spoiler: hedgehog was hiding in a small crack under the tree) the same fae visited them at night whilst sleeping and granted them a dream of whatever they wanted to wish. alice, feeling swayed by the magic despite being not aware made a wish to fulfill it.

boom! baby rosehearts in your faces!

alice woke up and immediately said young riddle was funnily shy to yuu. much to the confusion of actual current riddle!

their favorite tart is: anything with strawberries, like riddle.

rule 13, and rule 102 are entirely fictional and made up by me… for plot purposes…

not deuce = is actually yuu

not yuu = is actually ace

not ace = is actually deuce

deuce been sleeping for the entire time lol.

ace got roped into fixing the gardens with the collar on  #thatswhatyouget

riddle invites you to study for the nearing quiz season the following day.

[mallory524]

going out

bob x reader

pictures from pinterest

summary- You and Bob finally spend some time together one morning, but you find yourself rushing to defend him when he gets overwhelmed and people aren’t kind to him.

word count- 1,691

tags- THUNDERBOLTS* SPOILERS, fluff, pining, just a little language, hand holding, stranger being rude to bob :(

notes- the thunderbolts live in the watchtower (previously the avengers towers) because that’s what the post credit scene made it seem like and if I’m wrong I don’t care because I love the idea of them all being roomies :)

Although things hadn’t gone as expected, they are plenty of perks that come with being the New Avengers. The group hangs out together in the Watchtower all the time, none of you have to hide in the shadows anymore, and all the other accompanying “hero” perks. Helping the city by reversing the Void damage thrust the Thunderbolts into the spotlight, which typically just meant being waved to on the streets, and a lot of being told “your money’s no good here” with a big smile when you go out to eat.

Although the group fights a lot, there’s an unspoken understanding that you’re a real team now. More and more often the bickering is playful rather than actually malicious. At risk of sounding sentimental, real bonds are being made. Of course none of you would ever admit that out loud. Except maybe Alexei.

Bob’s enjoying his new life, too. Probably. You assume. He’s still a quiet guy, and sometimes he opts to stay in and read when you all go out for lunch or something. He’s still working through a lot, but everyone else is too, so you know to give him space. It’s clear to all of you that he’s slowly getting a bit more comfortable here with every passing day.

One cold morning, while everyone is sleeping in, you hear rustling and muttering in the other room. You throw on a robe and silently walk into the other room to investigate. Bob’s on the ground picking a bunch of papers up, and he whips his head around when he hears your footsteps.

“Sorry, I accidentally knocked all of Bucky’s things over. I’ve got it”, he says as you sit down next to him and help anyway. For a split second your fingers brush, but he pulls away, almost instinctively. You’d noticed that physical touch in general didn’t seem to bother him that much, but little soft moments like that make him nervous.

He’s gotten a bit of a handle on accidentally showing people memories they didn’t want to see, but maybe he’s nervous that he’d do it again without meaning to.

“Hey, have you had anything to eat yet?”, you say quietly, trying not to wake anyone else up. He shakes his head.

“Do you want to get something? There’s a coffee place I go to a lot. They have little pastries and stuff, too, if any of that sounds appetizing...”

He thinks about it for a second, and then smiles and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

Inside the coffee shop, it’s cozy and warm. You take off your large sweater, and your phone falls out of the pocket and onto the floor, and both you and Bob reach down for it at the same time. Your hands brush again and he nervously pulls away again. You lean in a little closer and speak quietly. “Bob if you’re worried about-”

“No no, I’m not- it’s not that. That’s under control. I’m just… it’s nothing”. He’s clearly having trouble expressing himself, and he doesn’t seem to want to, so you shake your head and smile politely.

“Hey man, don’t worry about it.” You get a smile in return, which is always nice to see. Bob has a nice smile. It’s so sweet and warm… you can’t deny it any longer. Bob is really cute.

He felt the same way about you, but he’s way too scared to tell you something like that. He’s already jittery enough every time your hands touch…

He really likes being around you. He’s just too shy to ask you to spend time with him, so he’s thrilled that you asked him.

You start to order your usual drink, and Bob gets in the line next to you. The girl taking your order remembers you from the last time you were there, so you talk to her for a little. She’s really sweet! The guy taking Bob’s order is not.

You go to the station with the straws and napkins, and you quietly watch Bob try to order. You realize you didn’t really ask him if he was ready to order, and now he’s at the front of this line trying to figure out what he wants. Bob’s starting to stammer a little and this barista guy is cutting him no slack.

“I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m going to get, I’m thinking…”

“Sounds like something you should’ve figured out before you got to the front of the line”, he says, scoffing a little.

“Yeah you’re right, it was just really fast and-” Bob looks down and shuffles his feet a bit.

“You know there’s people behind you.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m just… um…” Bob trails off, and you can tell that the idea of holding up the line and making all these people wait for him is only making this worse. He’s nervously laughing to try to keep it light, but you can also see him fiddling with the ends of his sleeves while squinting to read the small writing on the menu. You feel your heart break a little just watching him.

“Dude if you seriously can’t figure it out maybe you could get out of line”

Just as Bob is about to step away, you decide you’re not going to watch this anymore and you step up next to him.

“Hey do you know who the hell you’re talking to?”, you say in a hushed, almost professional tone with your arms crossed. “You’re talking to someone who helped save everyone here like a month ago.”

The guy’s eyes widen with realization. “I am so sorry, I forgot, you’re those guys. I was out of town but I saw you on the news-”

“Yeah that’s us. But that doesn’t even matter, you shouldn’t be treating any of your customers like this. Do you do this to everyone? Does your manager know that? Sorry not everyone can read that crazy small print on your menu-”

You continue for a little while, and Bob takes a tiny step backwards so he can be out of your way. This is a side to you that Bob hadn’t really seen. Sure, you bicker with Walker and Ava all the time, and he’s seen how well you can fight of course, (you even had to briefly fight him that one time), but in your everyday lives, you’re always so kind and patient with him. You’re nice to people who come up to you on the street and ask for a picture, and you’re nice to strangers who are rude to you, and you’re nice to the Thunderbolts most of the time, so it’s weird for Bob to see you actually go off on someone like that… and it’s all to defend him?? Strangely, it’s one of the sweetest things someone’s done for him in a while.

“- and you’re lucky I’m speaking quietly. I could be a whole lot louder and I could make a big scene but for your sake I’ll-” but you stop talking when you hear Bob clear his throat.

“I think I know what I want to order now”

“Go ahead”, you say with a little smile as you step out of the way. Bob tells his order to the terrified young man who keeps looking at you like he’s expecting you to lunge at him.

Another barista, who doesn’t realize what just happened, recognizes the two of you and walks up to let you know that it’s all on the house. It’s hard for you and Bob to keep from giggling just a little bit.

After you get your drinks and the muffin Bob ordered, you step back outside and start walking down the street together, enjoying your food and drinks.

“Thanks. You really didn’t have to do all that. I wasn’t ready, I should’ve been ready before I got up there.”

“No, no don’t worry about that. That’s my fault, I didn’t give you any time to read the menu and figure out what you wanted. Besides, that guy was just rude. That’ll teach him to mess with the New Avengers, am I right?” and Bob chuckles quietly.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if I deserve any credit for helping save everyone when I kinda caused all of that in the first place…”

“Hey, you know that’s not your fault”, you say in a softer tone. “You didn’t do any of that on purpose”

“Yeah I know.”

A car then loudly backfires, startling both of you. Bob stops walking and grabs your hand. When he sees that it’s fine and nothing’s wrong, he’s a little embarrassed.

“Sorry I didn’t…” Bob smiles at you awkwardly and trails off. He’s about to let go when you shake your head and gently squeeze his hand. “I’m always a bit jumpy, too, don’t worry about it.”

The two of you continue walking, and you notice that he’s not letting go of your hand, now that he knows you’re fine with it. Maybe he would’ve done that a while ago if he knew you wouldn’t mind…

You walk in very comfortable silence all the way back to the tower, refusing to let go of one another’s hands. Bob feels like he can’t. Like if he let go it might never happen again. He does decide to break the silence, though.

“Y/n, I had a good time” he says as he takes another big sip of his iced coffee. “Thanks for asking me to go out with you. Well, not like go out with you but you know like, coffee and this walk and stuff”.

“Well thank you for joining me. We should do this more”, you say, smiling warmly at him. Just then, you reach the tower. Walker’s heading out, and Bucky’s right behind him. The two of you immediately let go of each other’s hands, but Walker looks at you both a little funny. “Hey guys…”

“Hey”, you say in unison, acting natural as you walk into the elevator and start to laugh a little once the doors close.

“No Bucky I swear they were holding hands. It was so weird”

“I think you’re seeing things, John”

[ngdrb]

Elon Musk is a piece of shit just like EVERY other RepubliKKKan!!!!!

BREAKING: MAGA billionaire Elon Musk picks a fight with a respected commander of the International Space Station and calls him "retarded" after he exposed Musk for a bold-faced lie.

This is who Trump has entrusted with running our government...

It all started when Andreas Mogensen, the Danish astronaut in question, reacted to a clip on X of Musk telling Fox News propagandist Sean Hannity that he plans to "rescue" two astronauts who were "left up there" in space "for political reasons."

Mogensen shared the clip and wrote: "What a lie. And from someone who complains about lack of honesty from the mainstream media."

Musk quickly reacted to the tweet, lashing out with the sort of childish insults that we have come to expect from the allegedly ketamine-addicted oligarch—

"You are fully retarded," wrote Musk. "SpaceX could have brought them back several months ago. I OFFERED THIS DIRECTLY to the Biden administration and they refused. Return WAS pushed back for political reasons. Idiot."

As usual Musk provided no evidence for his inflammatory claims. Mogensen then responded with the grace and articulation that Musk seems pathologically incapable of—

"Elon, I have long admired you and what you have accomplished, especially at SpaceX and Tesla," wrote the astronaut. "You know as well as I do, that Butch and Suni are returning with Crew-9, as has been the plan since last September. Even now, you are not sending up a rescue ship to bring them home. They are returning on the Dragon capsule that has been on ISS since last September."

Tellingly, Musk didn't respond to the potent rebuttal. Instead, he responded to another post from Dr. Phil Metzger — Director of the Stephen W. Hawking Center for Microgravity Research & Education — remarking on the hostile exchange.

In it, Musk smeared Mogensen as a "so-called 'Commander'" who "doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground."

"Dude has no clue what’s really going on. He’s a passenger," Musk added.

That's all Elon has: insults and rage.

It's also worth noting that shortly after the feud broke out, the billionaire tweeted out a call for the "deorbiting" of the International Space Station because "it has served its purpose" and "there is very little incremental utility."

It's difficult to interpret the outburst as anything other than attempt at exacting revenge on Mogensen for publicly embarrassing him.

Elon is a petty, vindictive man with zero impulse control. The fact that he is now running roughshod over our government, gutting crucial programs, and lining his pockets with our tax dollars is an utter disgrace.

[rose24207]

Just a Salesman

Summary: Your perfect world shatters when a furious stranger bursts into your home, accusing your loving, devoted husband of being a monster responsible for countless deaths.

Husband!Salesman x reader

TW: swearing, mention of death

A/N: Posting sm today wow. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Pt.2

Masterlist

You always believed in the goodness of people. Growing up in a small, close-knit town had shaped you that way.

You’d been the type to bake cookies for the elderly neighbor down the street, rescue stray animals, and donate whatever you could to people in need. When you met your husband, it felt like a gift from the universe.

He was everything you thought you’d never deserve: charismatic, attentive, and so gentle with you it made your heart ache. He would listen intently to your rambles about work, surprise you with your favorite pastries from the café downtown, and hold you close on cold nights when the world seemed too overwhelming.

You hadn’t known much about his work—“sales” was all he ever said—but it didn’t matter. He always came home to you, and that was enough. You admired how he seemed to understand people so easily, reading emotions and desires with an almost uncanny precision. He was your safe harbor, and you were his soft place to land.

But what made your marriage unique wasn’t just the way he made you feel; it was the way you balanced him. Where he was logical and composed, you were emotional and empathetic. If he brushed off a stranger’s plight with practicality, you’d step in with a warm smile and offer help. He often teased you about your boundless kindness, calling you “his little bleeding heart,” but his tone was always fond.

“You’re too good for this world,” he’d whisper sometimes, brushing your hair behind your ear. You’d laugh, kissing his cheek.

“And you’re my world,” you’d reply, never missing the way his gaze softened.

You were blissfully unaware that the man you loved and trusted so completely was hiding a shadowy part of himself, one that was entirely at odds with the person you knew.

It was a chilly winter evening when your life began to unravel. You’d just finished preparing dinner, humming to yourself as you set the table for two, the flicker of candlelight adding warmth to the cozy living room.

Your husband had called earlier, saying he’d be late, but you didn’t mind waiting.

The knock at the door came suddenly, jolting you out of your thoughts. Expecting it to be a neighbor or a delivery, you opened it with your usual bright smile, only to find a man standing there, his face lined with rage and exhaustion.

“Can I help you?” you asked kindly, though his expression unnerved you.

“You already have,” he muttered darkly, stepping inside uninvited. “Where is he?”

“I’m sorry—who are you talking about?” you stammered, retreating a step.

“Your husband,” he spat, his voice trembling with barely contained fury. “Where is that bastard hiding?”

“I think you’ve made a mistake,” you said gently, though your hands were shaking. “My husband hasn’t hurt anyone. He’s just a salesman.”

“A salesman,” the man repeated with a bitter laugh. He fished a small card from his pocket and slammed it onto the table. You glanced at it, confused by the cryptic design.

“He gave me this,” the man continued. “And because of him, I had to watch people die. Because of him, my friends are dead! You’re married to a killer!”

The words pierced through you like shards of ice. “That’s impossible,” you whispered. “My husband would never—”

“Open your eyes, lady!” he shouted, making you flinch. “Do you even know who you’re married to?”

Before you could respond, the door creaked open again. Your husband stepped inside, his eyes immediately locking onto the stranger.

“Gi-hun,” he said calmly, closing the door behind him. “It’s been a while.”

Your heart sank as you turned to your husband, his usual warmth replaced with a cold, calculating smile you’d never seen before.

“What’s going on?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Go to the bedroom,” he said softly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your blood run cold.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “Not until you tell me what this is about. Why is he saying these things?”

The room was tense, the air thick with unspoken truths. Gi-hun’s fury burned hotter as he stepped closer.

“She doesn’t even know, does she?” he sneered. “You’ve been lying to her this whole time.”

Your husband’s jaw tightened. “This isn’t her concern.”

“She’s your wife! She deserves to know the kind of monster she’s married to!”

“Enough,” your husband snapped, his voice firm but not raised. He turned to you, his expression softening just slightly. “Go upstairs, sweetheart. Please.”

You stood frozen, torn between obeying the man you loved and demanding answers. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision as the image of your perfect life began to crumble around you.

Thank you for reading!

[nickfowlerrr]

something good and true - part 1

part two / part three / part four

pairing: mob boss!bucky barnes x reader

warnings (for all parts in whole): 18+ only. domestic violence. retelling of abuse and battery. minor character death mentioned. angst. sweet and protective bucky. fluff. not sure if this qualifies as a slow burn or not 👀 smut. there’s a happy ending! (as per usual)

words: 4.5k

notes: this fic was supposed to be posted last year for suz’s blind date writing challenge but clearly that is not what happened. a year later and some thousands+ words over the maximum allowed (in total), i was finally able to wrap this thing up. i’m posting in parts bc it’s just so long and ahhh i’m sorry i didn’t follow your rules suz @targaryenvampireslayer 😭 and honest to god there is absolutely no expectation for you to read or even acknowledge this! i just want to give credit where credit is due and so this, my first mob boss!fic, is all thanks to the mob boss au prompt you had given to me! so thank you - and sorry again 🫢 dialogue used: “Does it make you nervous when I stare?”. thank you in advance for reading, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts! as always, comments and reblogs are welcome and so appreciated. 🩵

He’s staring again. You can feel it. The heat creeps up your spine as your heart begins to beat a little faster. The feeling has become quite familiar. It’s been two months of this. You had a feeling he’d be back, but really you hoped he’d have just let it go by now. It’s not like you thought any of this through, though… Of course there’d be consequences; and none worse, you’re sure, than the ones he could dish out.

It’s not your fault, you try to remind yourself. It’s not. You finish wiping off the table of the newly vacated booth, tucking the cash tip left for you in your pocket, before you turn around.

You steel yourself, taking a strong breath before you start to walk toward his private booth. You’re not stupid, you know the only reason he comes here is for you, he told you as much himself. And everyone else knows that too as the place has become nearly empty since his arrival. Even your coworkers aren’t bustling about. You don’t know if you prefer having the audience or not. You don’t blame anyone for their fleeing, though. After all the stories you’d heard about the man, you always made yourself scarce in his presence, too.

Until the faithful night he requested you at his table by name… You sigh, it seems you no longer have the luxury of avoidance.

You remember that night well. The first time you formally met the infamous mob boss, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes.

You remember how it felt like your blood turned to ice in your very veins when Molly uttered your name with worried eyes, “Mr. Barnes is asking for you specifically,” she had whispered as she peaked into the kitchen where you’d fled when you heard he was being sat at his rarely used, always reserved table.

You felt sick. Like a lead weight was dropped in your stomach. You wrung your hands until it hurt before you finally nodded. You were sure she could see the fear in your eyes when you looked at her. “O-okay. I’ll be right there,” you’d nodded. You had to swallow down the bile threatening to creep up your throat. He knows, you’d thought. He has to know. That’s why he’s here. That’s why he’s looking for you. You were breathing hard and heavy and you could feel the tears welling in your still sensitive eyes. You were caked in makeup, had been all week, to hide the bruises that marred all over your face. It wasn’t anything unusual. But there was an eerie comfort you felt in knowing once they were finally gone this time, you wouldn’t have to see yourself like that again.

You were in a long sleeve so you knew he wouldn’t be able to see the marks along your arms, and unless he had X-ray vision he wouldn’t be able to see the contusions littered all over your body either. You had a brace on your wrist but it wasn’t too noticeable under the sleeve… Okay, you breathed. You can do this. Deny, deny, deny. You don’t even truly know what he’s here for. You shouldn’t freak yourself out before you’ve even seen him.

You exhaled a shaky breath before you reached for the kitchen door.

It was dead silent as you entered the dining hall and it only added to the compounding fear and anxiety growing inside you.

You approached his table cautiously, too nervous to make direct eye contact as you held your pen and pad in hand.

“Good evening, sir, - uhm, Mr. Barnes,” you corrected yourself, “can I get you started with something to-“

“I’m not here for drinks or the mediocre food, doll,” he stopped you easily, unnervingly calm.

You chanced a glance at him and his deep blue gaze had you swallowing hard.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you stayed quiet as he stared at you. Like he knew something. Like he knew you knew something.

“Hm,” he considered you for a moment longer before nodding, “ya know, I think you know why I’m here.”

“I-“, you shook your head almost imperceptibly, “I don’t,” was all you could muster as your eyes were now glued to him. You couldn’t will yourself to look away. You were too terrified.

He licked his lip seemingly out of habit before he spoke again.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asked, sounding exasperated, bored of the interaction already as he tilted his head at you.

You stiffened at the question, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

“I don’t-“

“You do.” He stopped you again, the certainty in his voice leaving no room to deny his accusation. His eyes cutting into you as you stood before him, defenseless. You felt like you couldn’t breathe but you couldn’t just stand there looking terrified. You had to work up your voice and it came out quiet, but Bucky was listening, and watching you, intently.

“I don’t know where Freddy is,” you said, voice low, trying to keep the tremor from it as you finally felt your eyes sting, the fear and pain catching up to you as you blinked the would be tears away before a single one fell. “And he’s not my boyfriend,” you swallowed, “anymore.”

“No?”

“No. We broke up…about a month ago.”

“That’s interesting…” he hummed. “Why did someone see his car at your place the other week, then, huh?”

You winced at the images that ran through your mind as you thought back to that day, the one you knew he was referring to.

“He came over, to talk,” you forced out, no longer looking at the man before you. “But nothing came from it,” you added quickly, “and he left. I haven’t seen him since. Haven’t heard from him, I don’t know where he is.”

You didn’t look at him but by the weight of his gaze you knew he wasn’t buying what you were selling.

“What happened here?” he asked, reaching for your hand.

You were quite literally frozen to your spot as he grabbed your hand in his. His touch was the most gentle you’d experienced in a long while and it sent an unexpected hum through you. You watched your hand in his as he pulled you just the tiniest bit closer to him and the table. He inched up your sleeve to see more of the brace on your wrist and when he moved to raise your sleeve further up your arm, your body finally moved into action. You yanked your hand back, as if his touch had burned you, keeping him from seeing anything more than the brace.

“Fell,” you answered shortly. “I’m sorry, Mr. Barnes, but I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know where he is. And to be perfectly honest, I don’t really care.”

You met his eye once more, feeling a little safer as the words came easily. It wasn’t a complete lie. You really didn’t know where he was. And you certainly didn’t care. Despite the scrutiny of the mob boss’ gaze, you didn’t feel nearly as scared as you had before he touched your hand. Something about the softness there… You wouldn’t dwell on it.

“If there’s nothing else,” you added, though it was definitely more of an unspoken question than anything. You weren’t as scared but you weren’t stupid either. You wouldn’t be going anywhere until he dismissed you.

He smirked, huffing a laugh as he watched you.

“You hear from him, I’d be grateful to know,” he slipped his hand into his coat pocket and took out a business card, placing it on the table as he flicked his sharp eyes up to you once more, moving to pull out his wallet next. You watched as he slipped out two bills and blanched as he put them down on the table, moving the card so it sat on the money.

Your breath caught in your throat as he stood from his seat, standing right in front of you as you took in his build and stature. Everything about him screamed success, power, and authority and the two hundreds he left on the table were nothing more than chump change to him, you were sure.

“Just so you know, doll,” he spoke lowly, “I will find him, one way or another,” he took a step closer to you, “and if you think you’re protecting him by not telling me the truth, I promise you’re not.” He held your gaze and you were terrified he could see straight into your soul with how intent it was, “What’s even worse, is he knows we know all about you. He doesn’t care if he’s putting you in harm’s way or not… Forgive me for saying, but nice girl like you, you deserve a hell of a lot better than that. So, if you think of anything you might wanna tell me, my number’s right there,” he said looking back over to the card and money on the table. “That’s your tip. You enjoy your night, sweetheart. I’ll be seeing you.”

His words weren’t a threat, but a promise.

He would be seeing you. Didn’t always call you to his table, sometimes just observed you while you worked, but every week without fail from that day on, he would be at the restaurant.

You never called him, you didn’t have anything to say. You wouldn’t tell him the truth, no, you couldn’t tell him the truth. He was half right, you were protecting someone. But it wasn’t Freddy.

You breathe another strong sigh as you get closer to him and once you’re at the table, you don’t say a word, only meeting his brilliant and pointed gaze.

There’s something different about him tonight, something unnerving in his stare that you take notice of right away. You work to keep your calm but you’re not sure how convincing your faux headstrong demeanor is tonight.

He lets the silence between you grow for a moment longer before finally, he speaks.

“Does it make you nervous when I stare?”

His voice is like honey, smooth and rich with that familiar lilt as his lips quirk up just at the corner of his mouth. It warms you while he holds your eye. There’s unspoken tension between you two as you stand so close yet so far, it’s been brewing since your first meeting and has only grown with each interaction since. You’ve never named it, but you couldn’t deny it if you’d wanted to. You haven’t felt your tummy flutter like this since…you can’t remember when.

Surely he knows what his gaze does to anyone, you’re no exception. But the nerves you feel under the weight of his stare are twofold - not all due to fear, but to flustering.

You haven’t responded, but you’ve held his eye in the silence. He smirks at you before gesturing to the open space across from him.

“Why don’t you take a seat, sweetheart.”

It sounds like an invitation, but you know it’s more than that.

It’s an instruction.

You look around briefly, as if someone might stop you or get you in trouble - but that’s laughable when you’re standing next to, arguably, the most feared and respected man this city has ever seen. Standing. Why is he standing? You realize suddenly he’s still waiting for you to move.

You do as he said and gingerly sit down across from him. He retakes his own seat as you settle. How chivalrous.

“I’ll get right to it,” he starts, his deep blue eyes never leaving you, “Freddy-“

God, that name. You can’t hold your tongue. You know it’s why he’s here but you don’t want to talk about this. You just want this to be over!

“Like I told you the last time, and the time before, and the time before, and every other time you’ve asked, I haven’t seen him.” You cut him off without thinking. But you really can’t have the same conversation again. You can’t keep having to think about him. About that night. You're at your wits end - you don’t want to have to so much as hear his name again. You don’t catch yourself in the moment but it hits you when you’re done talking that you just spoke to Bucky in such a familiar way…someone walking past might wonder who exactly you are to him. Clearly you’ve forgotten your place, gotten a little too comfortable around him.

You look up from where you watch yourself wring your hand and shamefully meet his eye again. You inhale and start to apologize but he doesn’t give you the chance.

His hand is on yours before you realize he’s even moving and you flinch a second late, his gentle touch already on you, stilling your nervous habit.

His eyes soften as he makes you meet his gaze, his thumb gently rubbing your fidgety hand.

You swallow hard and watch as he blinks away the previous softness in his gaze, his familiar confident twinkle back as he speaks,

“I know,” he nods, his hand still on yours. He’s closer as he leans across the table. “I found him.”

Your breath catches and your face falls. Fuck fuck fuck.

What does that mean? What does he know? You’re on the verge of having a complete freak out and god he can probably see it written all over your face. You feel a squeeze of your hand and are brought back into your body, into this very moment.

“Don’t look so sick, sweetheart,” he says, a half smile on his lips. “You don’t have anything to worry about, you or your old man.”

Your heart drops at the mention of your father and Bucky must see it because he leans closer still, now holding your hand in his. It’s strangely comforting, but more so is the look in his eyes. The sincerity there, and the hard edge of protection.

You want to believe him but you’ve been gullible before.

“I just wanna know the whole story. I know pretty much what went down, some things I think can safely be assumed, but I wanna hear your narrative, just to get the full picture and get this whole mess squared away, yeah?”

The way he’s looking deeply into your shining eyes, the intimate gaze and soft touch as it seems like he’s trying to keep you calm, you can’t speak much but you give him a quiet, “yeah.”

He nods and you feel a single tear slip down your cheek. He slowly raises his hand, and your eyes are glued to him as he makes sure you watch his movements. Like he’s trying to reach out to a scared little puppy, he reaches to gently touch your cheek. You don’t flinch but as his hand makes contact with your skin, your eyes shut as you try and suppress a shudder.

“No tears, sweetheart,” he tells you in a soothing timbre as he wipes it from your cheek. “You’re too pretty to cry over a loser like that,” he adds with a soft smile.

You shake your head, “He’s not why I’m-“

“I know,” he cuts you off. “Look at me,” he orders gently.

You do as he says and slowly meet his eye. “You don’t have anything to worry about, ya hear me? Not the police, not my men, and certainly not me. Got it?”

You know you’re staring at him like he’s crazy, but you do understand what he’s saying. It takes you a second but you force yourself to nod.

“Good.”

His touch is still on you as his eyes trail all over your face before he lets his hand slip away.

“Alright, you wanna do this tonight or tomorrow night?”

You’re momentarily stunned. You definitely don’t want to do this tonight. You just need to get through the last two hours here and then you’re headed home to unravel in your own space. But tomorrow…

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day,” you point out, sounding unsure.

“What,” he sniffs, looking at you once again, “you got plans?”

“I, I have work,” you answer dumbly after a second.

“Not anymore you don’t,” he says, moving to stand. “So tomorrow it is.” He walks closer to you and extends his hand for you to take, helping you out of the booth. “And you’ve got the rest of the night off.”

“Oh, I carpooled today so, I have to wait anyway,” you explain, though the idea of leaving early sounds like heaven.

“I’ll drive you. Get your things, I’ll have the car pulled around,” he supplies easily. He leaves to the front of the restaurant and you stand in your stupor for only a moment longer before you move to get your things from the back. You have a silly thought worrying about giving him your address, then remember he’s had it this entire time. And he told you you had nothing to worry about.

You’re not a typically trusting person, even more so after Fred, but there's something about Bucky. Something trustworthy, something that feels safe.

You grab your bag and let Molly know you’re leaving early and you got a ride before you head to the front to find Bucky.

He’s waiting patiently and his eyes seem to light up just a bit when he sees you coming.

Your manager is smiling tightly behind the stand as she watches you go. You feel slightly bad for just cutting out like this, but once Bucky came in, the place cleared out some, so it’s not like they’re in the midst of a rush.

You let your work worries slip away as the brisk night air hits you, Bucky holds the door for you as you exit and then opens the passenger of his sleek, blacked out Jaguar for you to get in.

You always assumed someone like him, in his position, would have a driver, but maybe that’s just not his style.

Bucky gets in and as you buckle, begins to drive off. You don’t need to supply him with your address as he heads in the right direction without a word.

It’s quiet but not unbearably so. It’s not until you’re just a couple minutes away from your place that he breaks the silence.

“I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow. I figure it’s a delicate conversation we’ll be having, so somewhere private would be better. Are you okay with going to my place? We can have dinner.”

It’s a genuine question, and the earnestness of it eases your nerves even further. He’s truly asking, genuinely concerned with your comfortability.

“Mhm,” you nod with a quiet hum. “Yeah.”

He pulls up in front of your house, the porch light on and shining because you knew you wouldn’t be off until late.

The car cuts off and you turn to face Bucky only to find him opening his door and getting out himself.

You grab your bag and follow him with your eyes as he rounds the car to get to your side. He gallantly pulls open the door for you and helps you out with care. You stand and he closes the car door before you start up the path to the front door. It’s a short walk and as you reach the door you turn to look at him as he stays beside you.

“Thank you, for the ride, and…” you trail off not knowing how to articulate what it is you want to say. Thankfully he doesn’t make you continue. He smiles softly at you.

“It’s my pleasure, sweetheart.”

You blink at him. You don’t know what else to say. You finally look away and turn to the door to unlock it.

“When you said I don’t have anything to worry about,”

“I meant you don’t have anything to worry about,” he answers you before you finish your question. “I’m gonna make this all go away, I just need to know if there’s any loose ends we need to tie up to be done with it, that’s all.”

Your eyes sting again. He makes it sound so easy, so simple.

“I-“ your voice threatens to break.

“Hey, we don’t needa talk about it right now, doll. You just go inside, relax, eat, get some rest. You don’t gotta stress a thing anymore, alright? I’ve got you, there’s nothin for you to worry about.”

“…Why are you being so nice to me?” you look at him with bleary eyes as you crack the front door open and ask the question you’ve been wondering for the past two months.

He takes a small step closer to you and gently turns your face to look at him. “Why do you expect cruelty?”

You stutter a breath as you look at him and feel the memories of the year you spent caught up with Freddy stab at you. You know why, and you’re sure he does, too. But there’s no sense of judgment coming from him, and you don’t feel embarrassed; not like the way you do in front of your mom. She’s the only other person who knows what happened, what your dad did. For you.

She never said it, you don’t expect she ever will, but you can sense the thoughts, the subtle judgement from her, especially when this all first happened. She doesn’t know the truth but you don’t have the care to tell her. Because even if what she assumed was true, it doesn’t change anything. No one deserves that.

But the truth is, you didn’t stay. The first time he put his hands on you, you were gone. He just wouldn’t leave you alone. You were together for six months at that point and they were nice, nothing overly romantic like you see in the movies, but nice. You weren’t expecting anything long lasting, marriage wasn’t even a thought. You knew he wasn’t the one, but dating was… fun. And then, one day, a switch flipped.

He wasn’t the kind, but nonchalant guy you thought he was. He was angry, like it was your fault the relationship wasn’t what he wanted, that it wasn’t more. He wanted it to work so badly, but he knew it never would. That only kept his ire burning. And so during the other six months you were ‘together’ you were really nothing close. You avoided him every chance you got and when he’d find his way in he’d always be sure to leave his mark. He kept up appearances of course, to everyone it seemed. You didn’t want to look crazy, so what were you going to say? ‘I broke up with him months ago and I don’t know why he won’t accept that. He uses me like a punching bag when he gets me alone - when he breaks into my car, my home, any way he can weasel into my life.’ He was in with the mob and everyone knew it, so even if they believed you, what the hell would anyone be able to do? At a certain point you just kind of accepted that this must be it. He’d always just be around somehow. Stories of your on and off again relationship floating around thanks to him - he wanted everyone to know that even if you weren’t together, you were together. Making it harder and harder for you in every way possible.

And then, one day, everything changed.

Now you’re here, and he isn’t.

Now you’re here, and so is James Barnes.

His warm hand is still holding your face and his thumb gently rubs your soft cheek, almost mindlessly, while he peers at you - intent as ever. That softness you saw before is back and you have to remind yourself to breathe when you notice his gaze flit to your lips. It’s brief, fleeting as his hand drops and he meets your eyes once more. He takes back his step and you watch him take a deep breath himself, the first time you’ve ever seen him be anything close to unsteady, if that’s what you can call it.

You break eye contact first, looking down to the small space between you while you push your door open a bit more, holding onto the handle with one hand.

“Have a good night,” he says, voice low and quiet as he watches you step closer yet to the door.

You look at him again then, “You too,” you bid softly, finally stepping inside.

He nods and waits for you to close the door behind yourself. As you push it shut, you catch a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and then that fluttering in your belly returns again.

You turn the lock and then press yourself up against the wood, exhaling heavily.

You feel relieved and yet ten times more terrified in the very same breath.

The most pressing feeling in this very moment though is a weird kind of guilt.

You feel more for a man you’ve only known for two months than you ever did for Freddy in the entire time you’d known him. Bucky is intimidating, obviously, and you know what he does, what he’s known for; he’s a man anyone would tell you to avoid at all costs. But when he’s around, there’s this feeling you get that you just can’t shake. You feel safe around him.

He’s known for being a man of his word, and his words to you have never been anything but thoughtful and…caring. He may prod, but he’s never threatened you. Truth be told, you think maybe he’s known this entire time what really happened. Or at least that you were involved somehow. And still, he wasn’t harsh with you even once. He was doing his own investigation this entire time, of course, and if he’d wanted to get the truth from you, surely he could have- he could’ve saved a lot of time too. Could’ve even gone after your dad.

But he didn’t do any of those things. No, he’s been patient, waiting until he had enough proof without having to pry anything out of you. At the very least you were grateful for that.

Not to mention the fact that he had called you pretty. It seems silly given the circumstances, but it did warm you when the compliment hit. It’s crazy but it’s clear that you’re feeling feelings for one James Bucky Barnes. God help you.

Alongside the unexpected romantic stirrings you’re coming to terms with, the anxiety and stress of the truth you’ve been trying, and apparently failing, to keep about what happened to Freddy has been weighing heavily on you, but with Bucky’s veiled acknowledgment of it, you feel more free already.

It’d be a lie to say you aren’t nervous for tomorrow night, but it’d also be a lie to say a part of you isn’t looking forward to it, too. If for no reason other than what Bucky said; to finally just be done with this whole mess.

[roastedoatmilk]

Who Kissed Nanami?

Kento Nanami x GN! Reader

Summary: The first year trio see that someone left lipstick on Nanami’s collar so they decide to play detective and figure out who it was

Word Count: 1.7k

Tags: literally so much fluff, the first years follow nanami, heavily implied itafushi, some sprinkles of nobamaki, nanami and reader being disgustingly in love with each other

Little Things Masterlist

This was also posted on ao3

A/N This was heavily inspired by a selfship commission i have from my lovely friend cassecreeoute let me know if y’all would like to see it :D

Something was different about Nanami, that much Yuji could tell. He wasn’t quite sure what it was but the stoic man seems to have a bit more pep in his step as of late. While out on missions Nanami seemed more adamant than usual to leave at exactly 6pm, making quick work of whatever it is that’s keeping him. On multiple occasions the pink haired boy has caught his mentor smiling at his phone; two things that the man doesn’t often do. On this day in particular the elder man came into work with a faint red mark peeking up from almost right under where the collar of his shirt meets his neck causing alarm bells to go off in the boy’s head. Yuji decides that his best course of action is to go to Fushiguro and Kugisaki with his findings. He manages to catch Fushiguro while he’s leaving his dorm only offering a small “Need to talk to you.” before grabbing the spiky haired boy by the hand and dragging him down the hallway.

They managed to find Kugisaki sitting beside Maki in the courtyard, the two girls leaning over a phone discussing something in hushed voices. As the boys drew closer they were able to catch a bit of their conversation. 

“I’m telling you Maki he’s obviously hiding something.” Nobara whispers to her elder classmate before continuing.”Nanami doesn’t seem like the type to share stuff like that anyways.” 

Maki nods along before looking up and seeing the two boys approaching them, still holding hands with each other. A smirk grows on the green haired girl’s face seeing this before she stands up and says her goodbyes to the trio. The boys make their way over to their counterpart sitting down next to her. Nobara looks the two boys up and down in annoyance.

“What do the two of you want?” The ginger girl huffs, “I was having a conversation you know.”

Yuji flushes in embarrassment, lowering his head before responding in a hushed voice “I think Nanamin has someone special in his life, I’ve noticed some stuff about him lately.” 

Hearing this Nobara visibly perks up giving the cursed boy her full attention, grabbing him by the shoulders she shakes him while saying “Why didn’t you start with that, tell me everything you know right now!” 

“Kugisaki, if you expect him to answer you need to stop shaking him.” Megumi says, speaking for the first time since Yuji dragged him to the courtyard. 

The elder girl stopped shaking the boy, giving him a break so that he can say his findings. Taking a deep breath Yuji then tells the two everything that he has noticed, even showing them the photo he sneakily took of the mark on Nanami’s neck. Nobara snatched the phone out of his hands to examine the photo further, zooming in as close as possible on the photo.

“I definitely recognize that shade of lipstick, a bit too red for my taste personally.” The girl speaks before handing the phone back to its owner.

Yuji pockets his phone, collecting his thoughts for a moment before declaring “I think we need to investigate where Nanami is going after work, he told me he has somewhere to be tonight.” 

A bewildered look crosses Megumi’s face as he listens to the boy next to him, not really wanting to spend his night following the blond stoic man around. However Nobara seems equally as determined as the pink haired boy to figure out what Nanami is hiding. The two of them lean into each other and whisper ideas of where the man could be heading to. 

Later that night at exactly 6pm Nanami stands from his desk, paperwork already completed, and starts to head out for the night. The first years watch as the door to his office opens and he walks out, heading straight for the entryway of the school. The three students spring into action, following behind the man at a reasonable distance. 

They watch as the man pulls out his phone and calls someone the second he walks through the school’s barrier. Yuji and Nobara gasp as they see the man smile as he says he’ll meet whoever is on the other end of the line at a restaurant a few blocks away, their jaws drop even more as they hear the man say that he loves the person and that he’ll see them soon. Nobara grabs the two younger boys and forces them into a group huddle. 

“He’s definitely seeing someone, we need to follow him to the restaurant and find out who it is.” The girl whispers conspiratorially. Yuji firmly nods agreeing with her while Megumi just sighs before nodding as well. 

The three continue following behind the taller man, making sure to keep their distance. When he arrives at the restaurant he visibly perks up when he sees a person sitting at one of the tables by the window. Making his way inside the trio watch as he walks over to the person, coming up behind them and placing his hands over their eyes causing the person to laugh as they try and guess who it is covering their eyes. Nobara and Yuji’s eyes widen as they watch the person remove his hands from their eyes then stand up and turn around to face Nanami, placing a kiss on his lips leaving behind a mark in the same shade as the one on his neck. Nobara lets out a squeal so loud that it causes the two lovers’ heads to snap in her direction. The first years freeze in place knowing that they are now caught spying on the older man. 

Nanami lets out a deep sigh, pinching his fingers between his eyes and shaking his head. His partner however just laughs at the shocked faces of the kids, leaning into Nanami’s shoulder for support. The older man's shoulders now bouncing as he also chuckles at the kids. The three stand there in complete shock watching the two adults laugh at their expense. 

“W-we are so sorry for following you Nanamin, we just had noticed some stuff about you lately and wanted to find out what it meant.” Yuji stutters, his face completely red at this point. 

“Yeah!” Nobara chimed in, “Besides it was Itadori’s idea in the first place I was just following along.” This caused the pink haired boy to bow his head in shame, nodding along to the words of the older girl. Megumi stands with the two before waving shyly at you, his face a vibrant shade of pink. 

You laugh even harder at the three students before making your way over to them standing in front of the trio. Nanami follows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“It’s very nice to meet you two and it’s nice to see you again Megumi.” You say to the kids, your voice gentle as if talking to a baby deer.  A bright look in your eyes as you speak to the kids. 

Yuji’s head shoots up towards Megumi at hearing that the dark haired boy had met you before, Megumi refusing to look at his friends mutters a “It’s nice to see you again too.” 

Yuji and Nobara round on him after he speaks, the elder girl staring daggers into the green eyed boy. 

“Why didn't you tell us that you knew about Nanami’s partner huh??” Nobara squawks clinging to his arm.

“Do you not trust us, is that it Fushiguro?” Yuji asks with fake tears in his eyes, playing into Nobara’s act.

Megumi frees himself from Nobara before he tentatively reaches out to hook his pinky around the pink haired boy’s own. Megumi takes a few moments before speaking to his friends in a soft tone, “It just wasn’t my place to reveal that sort of information, I figured they were keeping it a secret for a reason.” 

The other two nod in understanding, giving up the act they had been putting on finding his reason acceptable. Yuji locks his pinky around Megumi’s in response. The two boys shyly looked at each other before the clearing of a throat caused their heads to snap up. Nanami and you are still standing there watching the trio, a small smile gracing both of your faces. 

“Have any of you eaten yet?” The tall blond man asks the trio, his voice soft. The three shake their heads in response, and on queue Yuji’s stomach starts to growl. Causing everyone to let out a laugh. 

“Come on kiddos, let's get you guys some food before you have to go back to school.” You say, ushering the kids into the restaurant. 

The three sitting in the booth across from where Nanami and yourself sit. You spend the next few hours getting to know the kids as you all eat. Answering any of the questions that the trio had. After all of the food was eaten and the kids ran out of questions, Nanami paid the bill before telling the kids that he’ll walk them back to the school. The three groan not yet wanting to go back but follow the elder man anyways. Before they leave Nanami gives you a peck on the lips, a smile gracing his face as he looks at you. 

“I’ll be home as soon as I make sure that they’re all back in their dorms.” The freckled man murmurs, placing yet another peck on your lips. You laugh at the man before nodding and turning to the kids. 

“It was lovely meeting you both Itadori and Kugisaki, and it was great seeing you again Fushiguro.” you tell the trio. Wrapping the three of them into a quick hug. 

“It was nice meeting you too.” Yuji and Nobara blurt at the same time causing you to smile even wider at them. 

“It was good to see you again.” Megumi mutters his face still pink from embarrassment.

You let the three go and Nanami ushers them towards the exit, the three dragging their feet behind him. Laughing at the kids as you watch them go, you hope that you’ll be able to have dinner with the trio again soon.

A/N here’s part two i had tons of fun writing this i hope y’all enjoy it as always lmk what y’all think in the comments 🫶🏻

[theonlyonesora]

The Third Rule

Lily x Oscar Piastri x You (Reader)

Synopsis. “They were a pair—until we became a triangle.”

Chapter 01 – Pocket Boyfriend

The sun hit just the right angle on campus that day, golden and soft, like it had been filtered through a summer memory. I had collapsed onto the grass beside our little group, my backpack flung somewhere behind me and the weight of my finance finals finally peeling off my chest. I was free. My brain was still buzzing with formulas and late-night study sessions, but the only math I wanted to think about now was how many drinks I could responsibly down at tonight’s party.

“I swear if I failed macroeconomics I’m transferring to a cult in the woods,” Meg said, sipping iced coffee like it was the blood of her enemies.

“I’m going full wine aunt this holiday. Just me, my dog, a playlist called ‘crying at brunch,’ and no contact with reality,” Jessy declared, lying flat on her back with her sunglasses sliding down her nose.

And then there was Lily—perfect posture, hair somehow unbothered by the wind, scribbling something in her planner like we weren’t already mentally clocked out for the semester.

Lily and I had met in the first month of college. She was studying engineering, which meant she said things like “thermodynamics” and “fluid mechanics” and actually understood them. I was the finance girl with chaotic energy and a too-big planner filled with dreams and half-baked budgeting tips I never followed. We clicked instantly. She was the responsible one, I was the one doing tequila shots in the dorm hallway on a Tuesday. We balanced each other like opposite ends of a seesaw—somehow always meeting in the middle.

And yet, for all our closeness, there was always one ghost in the room: Oscar. Her long-term boyfriend. Formula 1 driver. Constantly flying. Constantly in another timezone. I hadn’t met him yet, not properly. He was always just on the other end of a FaceTime or in the stories she told, but never quite real.

“You should meet him,” she’d say. “You two are weirdly alike. It’s actually kinda scary.”

But the meeting never came. He was in Monaco. Or Melbourne. Or training. Or sleeping. But he never once seemed to mind that Lily and I were basically joined at the hip. And truthfully, I liked that. I liked that he trusted her. Trusted us. Because I loved her. Not in that way—not really. At least, I didn’t think so. Until that one day on the grass.

Jessy’s voice broke through the sleepy lull of our post-finals haze.

“So (Y/N),” she asked with a wicked glint in her eyes, “have you done it?”

“Done what?” I blinked, half-dozing.

“Ménage à trois.”

“Excuse me—what? It’s noon,” I groaned, sitting up. “It is way too early for this kind of scandal.”

“Just answer,” she pressed.

I laughed, brushing a blade of grass off my jeans. “No, I haven’t. Never done it.”

Jessy raised an eyebrow. “Not even curious?”

Before I could open my mouth, Lily’s voice slid in, soft and casual. “Are you curious?”

I turned to her. “Are you?”

She shrugged, playful, but something flickered in her expression—quiet, electric. “I don’t know… I think it can’t just be with anyone. But wouldn’t it be strange to do it with strangers?”

There was a pause. An almost imperceptible shift in the air. The kind of silence where a thousand things go unsaid but somehow still felt.

“I did it with a cousin once,” Jessy said, so casually she might as well have been talking about borrowing sugar.

“Oh my God,” Meg choked, nearly spitting her coffee.

“What?” Jessy blinked, genuinely confused.

“It’s family!” I said, horrified but laughing.

“It was high school!”

“Still!” I replied, shaking my head, half-disgusted, half-intrigued, and fully spiraling into the kind of laughter that makes your ribs ache.

Lily was laughing too, but something in her gaze lingered. She looked at me for a moment longer than usual, head tilted slightly, like she was filing something away in the corner of her mind for later. Like she was imagining something.

And I should have known then. I should have felt it—that thread pulling tighter, twisting quietly around us, waiting for the perfect night to snap.

.

Lily’s room smelled like coconut body lotion, hot flat iron, and vanilla perfume—basically the scent of girls getting ready to destroy lives

“You realize we’re just going to a bar, right?” I said, grinning. “Not the Oscars.”

“You can’t call it a ‘just a bar’ when it’s finals week and the entire city is out celebrating,” she replied, adjusting a gold hoop. “Besides, it’s been forever since we all went out.”

“We went out last week.”

“I said all

I rolled my eyes and stepped further into the bathroom, stealing a pump of her lotion while she was distracted. We'd been living together for four months now in a spacious apartment two blocks from campus—big enough for sleepovers in each other's rooms, dance parties in the living room, and nights spent sharing pizza and soft secrets. It was easy with Lily. Always had been.

And just as she picked up her phone to check the time, it started buzzing. Oscar.

“Speak of the devil and he FaceTimes,” I muttered, smirking.

Lily answered, holding the phone up to her face. Her voice instantly softened. “Hey, babe.”

I backed up a little to give them space but hovered just enough to be nosy.

“Are you with (Y/N)?” Oscar asked through the speaker.

I leaned into the frame dramatically, still in my towel. “Hello, pocket boyfriend.”

Oscar chuckled. “Hello, trouble.”

“Are you still calling him that?” Lily asked, amused but mock-exasperated.

“What? He’s always in your pocket! I’ve never seen him outside of a phone screen. Honestly, I’m starting to believe he’s AI.”

“Deeply hurt,” Oscar said with a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”

“But you're so polite about it,” I teased. “That’s what makes it worse.”

Our dynamic was weirdly natural for two people who’d never met in person. Friendly banter. Inside jokes. I’d always respected the space he and Lily shared, but I’d also never shied away from being me

“You two going out tonight?” he asked, brushing a lock of damp hair off his forehead.

Lily nodded, tilting the phone to show her outfit. “Yeah. The girls and I. Just bar hopping. (Y/N) made us promise we wouldn’t end up doing karaoke again.”

“That was one time!” I shouted from the bathroom.

Oscar grinned. “Just make sure she drinks water this time.”

“I always

Lily laughed. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of her.”

Oscar’s eyes softened at that. “You always do.”

There was a little pause then. Just a second too long. Like the sentence sat there between us, warm and humming with something neither of us fully named. Because yeah—she always did. And sometimes, I worried I let her.

“I gotta get dressed,” I said, suddenly aware of the towel slipping a little too far down my chest. “Nice seeing you, Oscar.”

“Soon, I hope,” he replied. “In real life. Not just FaceTime.”

Lily smiled, eyes flicking between the two of us. “Maybe we’ll finally make it happen this summer.”

“Careful,” I said with a wink. “I might actually steal him.”

“She’d probably let you,” Oscar joked.

And Lily?

But she didn’t say no.

[inseobts]

Sleight of Heart

nami x fem!reader

you flirt with men to manipulate them and get whatever you want from them, so what happens when you meet the strawhats?

a/n: happy pride month, my sapphics ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊

words count: 4.7k

tags: slow burn, thief x thief, post-timeskip, enemies to lovers, clever reader, tension

masterlist || ao3 || ko-fi

The sun burns bright over Asteria, a busy island full of life, music, and secrets. The Strawhat crew walks through the main market street, loud and colorful as always. You see them from a rooftop, leaning over a balcony with a half-eaten apple in your hand.

You already know who they are.

Monkey D. Luffy. Pirate captain. Rubber boy. Big smile. Easy to fool, if he’s distracted.

Roronoa Zoro. Strong. Grumpy. Bad with directions. Not your target.

Nico Robin. Too smart. Too calm. Too risky.

Franky, Usopp, Brook, Chopper… All dangerous in their own ways. At least for what you have in mind.

Vinsmoke Sanji...

Ah, Sanji. Weak for a pretty face.

Bingo!

But the one to truly worry about?

Nami.

You see her now, walking near the back of the group. Arms crossed. Eyes scanning. Calculating. You can almost feel her sharp mind from up here.

She’s just like you.

Too bad.

You jump down from the roof, land silently in a side alley, and slip into the crowd. You wait, moving carefully. You smile when Sanji walks closer.

Now or never.

You step into the open and “accidentally” bump into him.

“Oh! I’m so sorry!” you say in a sweet voice, placing your hand on his chest lightly.

Sanji’s eyes turn into hearts instantly.

“Mon dieu! Are you okay, mademoiselle?” he asks, taking your hand and holding it like it’s made of gold.

You already slipped your fingers into his coat. There’s a bag of beli in there, too easy.

But before your hand can close around it, another hand grabs your wrist.

Strong. Quick.

“Nice try.”

You look up, and there she is. Nami. Amber eyes locked onto yours. She caught you but you don’t flinch.

Instead, you smirk “Took you long enough.”

Her eyebrows twitch “You knew I was watching?”

“I was counting on it.”

You twist your wrist, not to break free, but to slide a small coin into her palm. Her fingers close around it by instinct. She opens them. The coin is fake, cheap metal, painted gold.

Nami looks at it. Then at you.

You’re already gone.

Vanished into the crowd.

Back on the Sunny, Nami stares at the fake coin.

Robin notices “Trouble?”

“Maybe.” Nami slips the coin into her pocket “She’s good.”

Robin smiles “Good enough to fool you?”

Nami doesn’t answer but her lips curl into a tiny, curious smile “Not for long.”

The diner is loud. Full of clinking silverware, sizzling oil, and way too much talking. It smells like grilled fish and spiced rum. The Strawhats sit at a corner table, taking up too much space as usual.

You spot them through the window.

You grin.

They don’t see you yet. Not until you open the door and walk in like you belong there. No disguise, no tricks. Just confidence.

You grab a chair from a nearby table and drag it across the floor. The sound makes Zoro glance over. Luffy pauses mid-bite. Sanji... oh, he lights up the moment he sees you.

You sit down at their table like you’ve been invited “Miss me?”

“Angel!” Sanji gasps, nearly knocking over a glass “What a miracle—did fate bring you back to me so soon?”

You lean your elbow on the table, chin in your hand “Maybe I just like the way you blush.”

He practically melts into his suit.

“You shouldn’t be here” Nami says from across the table, arms crossed.

You don’t look at her.

You keep your eyes on Sanji “Is this the part where someone kicks me out?”

Luffy shrugs “You seem fun. I vote she stays.”

Chopper giggles. Usopp is nervous but interested. Brook’s just happy to have another pretty face at the table.

Zoro says nothing, which probably means he’s watching too closely.

“Can I get you something, mademoiselle?” Sanji asks, already rising from his seat “What do you drink? Wine? Tea? Something sweet like your voice?”

You tilt your head “Surprise me.”

Sanji bows low and rushes off to the counter.

You finally turn to Nami. She hasn’t stopped staring.

“Relax,” you say “I’m not here to rob you… again.”

“Then why are you here?”

You smirk “I like to fool men. Can you blame me?”

She blinks once. Not offended. Not angry.

Intrigued.

“You’re honest” she says slowly.

“Only when it makes people trust me.”

She nods once, almost like approval. But there’s something else under her gaze now... curiosity. Calculation. Maybe even respect.

“You know you won’t get far with Sanji” she says.

“Oh, I know,” you say with a wicked smile “But watch this.”

Sanji comes back with a fancy glass filled with something pink and fruity. A paper umbrella leans on the rim.

“For the goddess at our table” he announces, placing it in front of you.

You take a sip “Delicious. You made it?”

“Of course! I used—”

You interrupt, leaning in “You always treat strangers this nice? Or just the ones with long eyelashes?”

He stutters “N-no! I mean—yes? I mean—uh—it’s not like that!”

You laugh. It’s charming. Loud enough to make a few heads turn.

“Relax. You’re adorable.” you say, tapping his chest lightly.

His eyes go soft “I would die for you.”

You raise an eyebrow “Would you tell me anything I asked?”

“Anything!”

“Even secrets?”

He looks around, drops his voice, and leans in like a schoolboy “You wanna hear how I once cried over a sea king because it reminded me of a soup my mom used to make?”

Your smile grows wider.

Nami watches this with raised brows.

You glance her way, then wink.

You twirl the umbrella from your drink between your fingers, eyes moving from one Strawhat to the next.

Sanji’s already yours. He hangs off every word you say like you’re some sea goddess he dreamed into existence.

Brook’s not hard either. You only had to compliment his style and call him “elegant” before he offered to write you a song “May I see your panties?” he asked, and you only laughed. Poor guy nearly exploded when you said, “Buy me dessert first.”

Usopp? Easier than expected. You said, “You look like a man who’s seen real danger” and he told you five war stories in two minutes. You told him his aim must be deadly, he blushed red and nearly spilled his water.

Chopper shyly asked if you were a doctor too. You leaned in and whispered, “Only the kind that heals broken hearts.” He squeaked and hid behind his hat.

Even Franky cracked when you complimented his “super” arms and asked if he could build you a weapon one day.

Luffy… okay, maybe not “seduced” but even he’s laughing at your jokes now. You told him he has the best smile in the world. He gave you a piece of his meat.

Robin sips her tea slowly, watching it all unfold. She doesn’t say much but she’s watching.

“You’re really good at this” she says at last, smiling.

You smirk “I study people. Their tells, their weaknesses. Most men just want someone who listens. Or laughs. Or touches their hand at the right time.”

Nami raises an eyebrow “So that’s your trick? Manipulation?”

“Call it… understanding.” You shrug.

Robin chuckles behind her hand “You’ve gotten into all of them.”

“All but one...” Nami says, standing from her seat. She points across the table.

Zoro sits there, arms crossed, one eye half-closed, sipping his drink like this entire thing bores him.

You grin “Ah. The hard one.”

“If you can crack him,” Nami says, folding her arms, “I’ll give you something I’ve never told anyone about. A treasure I found on Skarva Island. Secret map. Gold. Real deal.”

Robin arches an eyebrow “You never told me about that.”

Nami just smiles “Didn’t need to.”

You look at Zoro, then back at Nami “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

You lean back in your chair, cracking your knuckles “Oh, now this is fun.”

Zoro hasn’t said a word in ten minutes. He’s just sitting there, arms folded, eye on you like he’s waiting for something to impress him.

You know the type. Stoic. Quiet. Sharp under the silence.

You lean your elbows on the table, turning your full attention to him now.

“Zoro, right?” you say casually.

He grunts “Mm.”

You rest your chin in your hand “Swordsman. Second-in-command. Scary.”

He doesn’t answer.

You smile “You don’t talk much.”

“Nope.”

“Because you’re mysterious? Or because you just hate people?”

“Both.”

That gets a soft laugh out of Robin. Even Nami cracks a half-smile.

You nod slowly “You know… the strong silent type is the easiest to read.”

Zoro raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced “Oh yeah?”

You lean in a little “You watch everything, but you don’t say anything. That means you trust your instincts more than people.”

He blinks. Stays quiet.

“But here’s the catch,” you go on, tone softening just a bit “People like you don’t hate people. They hate wasting time on people. There’s a difference.”

You meet his gaze. Steady. Calm.

“And I think,” you continue, lowering your voice just slightly, “you already knew I wasn’t a threat.”

His eye narrows.

You grin.

“That’s why you didn’t stop me before. And you were watching if someone else would.” You nod toward Nami.

Zoro doesn’t smile but he gives the smallest shrug, and says, “You talk too much.”

You lean back and cross your arms smugly “Which is your way of saying I’m not wrong.”

Zoro does a short nod towards you before drinking again. Which means you’re right.

Robin claps once, slowly, amused.

“Impressive” she says.

Nami leans forward on the table, hands steepled, eyes on you now with intent.

“Alright,” she says “You win.”

You raise an eyebrow “The treasure?”

She taps her pocket, smirking “We’ll talk about it.”

Later, most of the crew gets distracted arguing over dessert. Sanji is still telling Brook about how your smile “cured his heart.” You, Robin, and Nami linger at the table, your drink now halfway gone.

Robin leans over, voice low and curious “So tell us the truth. Why all the charm games?”

You swirl your glass gently “Men are easy. Predictable. They react fast. It’s all surface-level with them.”

Nami quirks a brow “So you don’t actually like any of them?”

You smile. Not flirtatious this time. A little softer “No. I don’t play with people I’m interested in. That’d be too messy. Too… distracting.”

Robin watches you with interest “So… women?”

You meet her gaze, then glance toward Nami. You speak slowly, honestly this time.

“I don’t joke about women.” you say “They don’t deserve that. When I speak to a woman, I want it to mean something.”

Nami’s quiet. She stares at you for a beat too long.

Robin looks between you both, then just sips her drink.

“So…” Nami says eventually, voice quieter now, “you play men… but you respect women.”

You nod once “Exactly.”

She leans back in her chair, studying you again. But it’s different now. Less suspicion, more… interest. Like she’s trying to figure out what kind of game this is, but maybe hoping it’s not a game at all.

“Alright,” Nami says, slowly, “what do you mean… when you speak to me?”

You grin “I guess you’ll have to keep talking to find out.”

You’re still sitting with Robin and Nami, tension slowly turning into something warmer, when a sudden voice cuts through the table:

“Hey!”

It’s Luffy. Of course.

He’s leaning over three empty dessert plates like they wronged him, hands on the table, grinning at you.

“You should join my crew.”

Your eyebrows shoot up “…Sorry, what?”

“You’re sneaky!” Luffy says, like it’s a compliment “You’re fun. You tricked everybody. And you’re smart like Robin but more annoying, like Nami.”

“Wow, thanks” Nami mutters.

“I mean it,” Luffy insists “You could be useful for missions. Infiltrate stuff. Get into places. Pretend to be people. Like a spy! That’s cool.”

You blink, then laugh “You want a con artist on your ship?”

He grins wide “Yup!”

Usopp leans in “That’s actually not a bad idea. We’re always getting chased or caught.”

Sanji’s eyes sparkle “As long as she’s on our side…”

“I am not babysitting another thief” Nami cuts in but her voice is dry, not angry.

Robin tilts her head, smiling “She’s already halfway in.”

Zoro shrugs “Just don’t steal my swords and we’re fine.”

Chopper tugs your sleeve “Can you fight, though?”

Luffy’s eyes widen “Yeah! Can you fight?”

You lean back, stretch your arms above your head, then smirk “I don’t pick fights. But I finish them. Okay, that was corny, but look.”

You reach down and lift your pant leg, revealing a slim blade strapped to your thigh. Not flashy, silent. Practical. Deadly.

“Knives,” you say “Fast, quiet, and sharp.”

Robin nods “Elegant choice.”

Nami tilts her head “Do you use them well?”

You grab your knife, point at a bounty poster at the other side of the local, all people in the middle enjoying their night.

“Look at the “O” of “dead Or alive”.”

You throw the knife without even thinking twice and hit right in the middle of the “O”.

Everyone at the table goes quiet.

You turn back, raise your glass, and smile “Good enough?”

Luffy slams both hands on the table “You’re joining.”

You pause, sipping the last of your drink, watching them all. This is insane. Reckless. Completely dangerous.

But… kind of perfect.

You finally set the glass down.

“Alright,” you say “I’m in.”

Later, as everyone leaves the diner and heads toward the Sunny, Nami walks beside you, her arms crossed, a smile just playing on her lips.

“You really said yes.”

“I like chaos” you say.

She glances sideways “You’re gonna regret this.”

You nudge her with your shoulder “I doubt it. I haven’t had this much fun in a while.”

Nami slows her steps just slightly, walking closer “…Let’s see if you can keep up.”

You smirk “Oh, I plan to do more than that.”

It’s been almost two years since you joined the Straw Hats.

You’re not the new one anymore. You’re family. You share the table. The chaos. The fights. The treasure. The sky above the Sunny at night.

And most of all, you’ve earned your place.

Your role? Simple. Infiltrate. Extract. Disappear.

It’s your gift. You blend in. Play a role. Men talk too much when you smile the right way. Say the right thing. It’s always worked.

Until now.

You’re inside a high-end lounge in Arcaen Port, dressed sharp, drink untouched, eyes locked on your target across the velvet booth.

Except your target… is a woman.

She’s calm. Powerful. She’s watching you the same way you usually watch others. And you freeze.

You hesitate... not out of fear, but out of something else.

This isn’t the game you usually play. Women aren’t pawns. They’re not jokes. They don’t deserve to be manipulated. And they don't let people manipulated them.

That’s always been your rule.

But this woman has the information you need. Info on a Celestial delivery, something that could save thousands. Luffy’s counting on you. So is the rest of the crew. Franky needs it to stop a weapons shipment too.

You take a breath. Let the moment settle in your chest.

Your voice goes soft. Flirtatious “I couldn’t help noticing the way you walk like you own the room.”

The woman smiles, leaning closer.

Hook set.

But somewhere on the sea, back on the Sunny, Nami watches through the transponder snail video feed. Robin beside her, calm as always.

The rest of the crew is off deck, but Nami stayed behind, “just in case.”

She’s used to this. You, sweet-talking idiots who fall for your smirk. It never bothered her.

Not when it was men.

But this... this is different.

You hesitate at first. She saw it. The slight twitch in your eye. The flicker of something in your hand.

And then you push past it.

You lean into the woman. Smile. Tilt your head the way Nami knows too well. Touch her wrist. Laugh.

Nami’s stomach twists.

Robin is quiet. Watching. Always watching.

“You okay?” she asks, softly.

Nami crosses her arms, a little too tight “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Robin’s gaze lingers on her. But she doesn’t push.

Nami focuses back on the screen, where you’re now sliding closer to the woman. Saying something low. Intimate.

And something burns under her skin.

Jealousy.

A feeling she doesn’t recognize at first, because she’s never let herself have it. Never thought you with those men mattered.

But seeing you with a woman, doing what you swore you never would... it changes everything. Because now it could be real.

And Nami suddenly realizes something she didn’t want to admit.

She doesn’t want to watch this anymore.

She wants you.

Back on the Sunny, it’s chaos in quiet voices.

Sanji is pacing. Chopper is gnawing on his hoof. Usopp’s leaning on the railing, muttering, “She’s fine, right? She has to be fine.”

Nami’s already halfway to the mini-boat. Boots laced, windbreaker half-zipped, stubborn fire in her eyes.

“She said she doesn’t flirt with women,” she snaps “And now she’s all over one? What if something’s wrong?”

“She can handle it, Nami,” Zoro says flatly, arms crossed “You going there now could blow the whole thing.”

“She’s not stupid,” Robin says calmly “If she crossed her own line, it’s because it mattered.”

“You don’t get it,” Nami says suddenly, her voice rising “She—She’s reckless and arrogant and she thinks she’s untouchable—”

Luffy tilts his head “You’re mad?”

“Yes, I’m mad!” she snaps, throwing her arms up “She always flirts like it’s nothing! With every guy in every town! And now it’s with a woman and—”

She stops herself.

Everyone is quiet.

Even Sanji, for once, doesn’t speak.

Nami exhales, sharp and fast. Her fingers twitch like she wants to hit something and then, colder, she mutters “I hate her.”

Silence.

The kind of silence that doesn’t belong on this ship.

The kind that stretches a second too long.

And then your voice “Good to know.”

They all turn.

You’re standing at the edge of the deck, soaked in dim moonlight, cloak fluttering in the breeze. The shadows under your eyes say you heard enough.

Your tone is even, but there’s something off. The sharp glint that usually dances in your words is gone.

Nami’s eyes go wide.

You step onto the deck, holding up a small rolled scroll and a black coin “I got everything you needed. Names, routes, drop points. She cracked after three drinks and a smile.”

No one speaks.

You look… wrong.

Not physically hurt. Not bruised. But dimmed.

You hand the scroll to Robin without meeting her eyes.

“I’m gonna get some air” you mutter.

And just like that, you turn and walk toward the back of the ship, disappearing into the shadows near the observation deck.

The silence left behind is loud.

Luffy sits down, cross-legged, eyes on the floor “She looked… sad.”

“She never looks like that.” Usopp murmurs.

Robin just holds the scroll tight, her expression unreadable.

And Nami’s still frozen. Staring at where you stood. The wind tugging her hair around her face.

Her hands are clenched at her sides.

She doesn’t say a word.

You haven’t come back down since.

You’re still somewhere above, maybe the observation deck, maybe the crow’s nest. No one knows. Or maybe they just pretend not to.

Dinner came and went. You didn’t eat.

You always eat.

Sanji cooked your favorite. Left it warming, just in case. No one touched it.

Now, the moon is high, casting silver light across the Sunny’s deck. The sea is quiet. Almost too quiet.

Nami is pacing. Barefoot. Hair tied back. Jaw tight.

“She heard me,” she says for the fifth time “She heard me say I hate her.”

“She also heard the part before that.” Robin adds gently, sipping from a cup of warm tea.

Sanji leans against the mast, arms crossed, for once not playing the romantic fool “You don’t hate her.”

“I know I don’t!” Nami snaps “That’s the problem!”

Robin glances sideways at her “Then maybe it’s time you tell her.”

“I can’t just walk up there and say ‘Surprise, I don’t really hate you, I actually might be in love with you, sorry for being jealous of someone who didn’t even matter.’”

“Why not?” Sanji says simply.

Nami glares “You’re seriously okay with this?”

Sanji shrugs “You think I haven’t noticed? The way you look at her when she’s not watching? You only get mad when she flirts with someone smart. And now that she had to flirts with a woman.”

Nami groans “Sanji…”

He smiles softly, but it’s not his usual over-the-top grin “I want the both of you to be happy. Even if it’s not with me. That’s what love’s supposed to mean, right?”

Robin places a hand on Nami’s arm “You’re not alone in this. But she is. Right now. And that’s not fair.”

Nami’s shoulders drop. Her chest is tight.

She doesn’t like feelings. Doesn’t like being soft.

But this one’s already slipped through the cracks.

“Okay,” she whispers “Okay. I’ll go.”

You’re sitting at the back of the ship, legs dangling over the railing. The breeze cools your skin. You’re watching the stars but not really seeing them.

You didn’t cry. Not really. But your chest aches.

You always told yourself women were off-limits. You respected them too much. Admired them. Needed them to be real, not illusions.

And now Nami, of all people, thinks you’re just another act.

“Hey.”

You freeze at the voice behind you.

Nami steps slowly into view, hands in her pockets, hair messy from the wind.

“I’m not here to fight...” she says “Or yell. Or… accuse.”

You don’t speak.

“I messed up,” she continues “I got jealous, and instead of admitting it, I acted like a child. I said something I didn’t mean.”

You glance at her, finally “Why did it matter? Me flirting with her?”

Nami swallows “Because it was real.”

You tense.

“Because it wasn’t a game anymore,” she says quietly “Because you looked at her like you meant it. And that scared me.”

You stare at the waves “I didn’t mean it.”

A pause.

“I only did it for the mission,” you add “Even though it felt wrong. Even though I hated myself for it. Because I thought I could handle it for one time.”

Nami walks closer, sits beside you on the rail. Close, but not touching.

“I never wanted to be someone who made you feel like you weren’t safe here,” she says “But I did. And I’m sorry.”

The silence stretches again.

This time, it feels softer.

You speak low “Why are you really here, Nami?”

She meets your eyes, and her voice is so raw it almost hurts.

“Because I don’t hate you,” she says “I think I might… actually like you... like LIKE you… love… love you.”

Your breath catches.

You blink, stunned and then for the first time in days you smile.

The world is quiet.

Just the gentle hush of waves against the Sunny’s hull. The occasional creak of the ship. Stars hanging above you, soft and endless.

You stare at her.

Her words echo in your chest.

It’s everything and nothing. It’s terrifying. It’s real.

You laugh, breathless “You’re not saying that just because you feel guilty, are you?”

Nami rolls her eyes “Do I look like someone who says ‘I love you’ to fix guilt?”

“…Fair.”

She glances down, fingers brushing the edge of the railing beside you “I’m saying it because watching you with that woman—watching you break your own rules—made me realize something.”

You tilt your head “What?”

“That I don’t want anyone else getting that close to you again,” she murmurs “Even for a mission.”

You don’t say anything. You just look at her.

Her voice lowers “Not because I own you. But because I want to be the one who gets to be close.”

It comes out of you before you can stop it.

“Then be close.”

She blinks. Breath catches.

You shift. Slowly. Cautiously. A hand reaches out, halfway between you and her, fingers hovering.

Her hand meets yours.

Fingers slide together like they were always supposed to.

You watch her eyes. There’s still that spark. That fire. But it’s softer now. Waiting.

You lean in.

She meets you halfway.

The kiss is slow.

Not rushed. Not desperate. Just real.

Her lips are warm, sure. Her hand finds your cheek. You hold her waist. The world tilts for a moment, but you don’t fall. Not this time.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against hers.

Nami’s smiling.

So are you.

“Finally” she whispers.

You laugh “Yeah. Took us long enough.”

From somewhere above, faintly “WHOOOOOOA!!”

You freeze.

Nami freezes.

You both whip your heads up toward the crow’s nest.

Sanji’s head immediately disappears.

Robin’s voice follows, calm as ever “Sanji. We talked about spying.”

“IT WAS TOO ROMANTIC TO IGNORE” Sanji yells from somewhere off-screen.

You groan, covering your face. Nami’s laugh shakes her shoulders, and this time when she kisses you, quick and soft and just yours, she doesn’t hold back.

The next island is bright, busy, and full of overly confident men in shiny coats who think they invented charm.

Perfect hunting grounds.

The mission? Infiltrate a minor noble’s gala to collect intel about a secret Marine experiment. You and Robin are the inside team. Sanji’s security backup. Nami… is in charge of recon.

Or so she insists.

“Can I trust you not to fall in love in there?” Nami asks, arms crossed, eyebrow raised, the picture of dramatic girlfriend energy. You’re already halfway into your gala disguise: sleek dress, earrings, confidence dialed to ten.

You grin “You can trust me to do the job.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You lean in, kiss her on the cheek “I’ll be back before midnight. Try not to burn the ship out of jealousy while I’m gone.”

“Don’t test me.” she grumbles, but her cheeks are already pink.

Robin smiles softly beside you “You two are worse than Luffy and meat.”

Inside the Gala

“Darling,” purrs a man in gold-trimmed boots, bowing too low “Surely you’ve never been kissed by a general before?”

You smile politely, hand grazing his wrist just long enough to lift the coded invitation from his pocket.

“Not yet.” you reply sweetly.

Robin snorts behind her wine glass.

“I swear I’m going to stab someone.” Nami growls from the comms, listening in from the ship.

“You said she was retired from flirting.” Sanji whispers dramatically.

“She lied!”

Back on the Sunny, hours later you strut up the gangplank, mission completed, dress a little rumpled, earrings gone, but smiling wide. Robin follows, calm as always.

“Hey, I got it!” you call “They’re planning to move the research to a sky island in a week. And the general thinks I like poetry.”

Luffy cheers “Let’s go steal stuff from the sky!!”

Franky whoops. Chopper claps. Usopp asks about fireworks.

Nami’s marching down the deck, fire in her eyes.

“You told him you like poetry?” she demands.

“It helped” you say innocently.

“You winked five times.”

“You were counting?”

She throws her hands in the air “I am dating the most frustrating woman in the world!”

You grin and tug her closer by the waist “Yeah, but I came back to you.”

That slows her. Just a bit.

Then she rolls her eyes and kisses you anyway “Next mission, I’m going in.”

“You sure?” you tease “I’m the master of disguise here.”

“I am the queen of jealousy.”

“That’s for sure.”

She squints at you “You want to test that?”

Robin sips tea behind you two “Please do. It’s entertaining.”

Sanji sighs dramatically in the background “Why are all the beautiful women already dating each other…”

Later that night, you lie on the deck with Nami curled against your side, her head on your shoulder, the sea whispering around you.

“You’re really not mad?” you ask softly.

She shakes her head “I’m always going to get a little jealous. But that’s just because I care.”

You smile, brushing her hair from her face “I’ll stop if you ask me to.”

She pauses.

Then grins “Don’t. I kind of like watching you work.”

You blink “Wait, what?”

“I said nothing.”

“Nami—”

“Goodnight.”

“NA—”

She kisses you again.

And just like that, the sea rolls on, and the two lovers lie under the stars, wrapped in sails, secrets, and the sweetest kind of trouble.

[tr1nd2de]

Batson and the Bat-family

At a rare (evening) Wayne family dinner, where practically all members are present and relatively calm.

Sounds of running footsteps are heard, and the door to the lunch room opens.

A boy who appears to be about 13 years old, typical Wayne adoption pattern, black hair, blue eyes and white skin.

Billy: Bruce!?, are you okay? Did something happen!?.

Bruce: Billy? I ask you... why are you here?

Dick: Do we have someone new in the family?... I didn't know that.

The Batfamily members look between the rookie and Bruce, with expressions of confusion and surprise.

Billy: Bruce, your communicator is sending me a distress alert... HALF AN HOUR AGO!!. Do you have any idea how desperate I was when I saw this!?

Says Thomas responding to Dick:.

Thomas: I don't know... But if we have another lightning member then maybe Alfred will ground Bruce.

Bruce puts his hand in his pocket seeing the communicator. And the boys and girls look at each other in silent communication trying to figure out if anyone knows the supposed new member.

Bruce: Of course it's damaged from the last mission, I'm sorry for the scare but... you don't seem to have announced your arrival as dramatically as usual. Did something happen?

Billy: It's me, I've been here in Gotham for a while... Taking a look at the Falcones

All: The Falcones!?

Damien: What were you investigating about the Falcones?, and who are you!?

Billy: Yes, the Falcones. Billy walks over to Bruce around the long table, and takes a folder out of his bag and hands it to Bruce. I don't know why yet, but they are reaffirming their good relationship with the mafia families outside of Gotham. The Batfamily members are on alert, Tim even pulled out his laptop to check the Falcons' activities with Barbara. I've heard that there was a fraternization between the Fawcett and Gotham mobsters, I thought I'd get some clues before telling you but... the distress alert made me abandon the espionage.

Damien: He ignored me!?

Jason: Are you going to cry, brat?

Damien: Don't even try Todd, I'm wondering what we're going to do about Dad's out-of-control tendencies about adoption.

As Bruce reads the folder, Alfred arrives carrying a tray.

Alfred: Master Billy, it's good to see you again. You're here on business I presume. Billy, giving one of his megawatt smiles, gives the old butler a quick hug. When you come back, I hope you stay because as a reward for the others, I will make cookies and I hope you will be here with us tonight. Says Alfred, as he leaves with a small smile on his face.

Billy: Sure Mr. Alfred, I'd love to spend some time with you if possible. Turning his gaze to Bruce with a serious expression. So, do you esse want to do something now or not?

Thomas: Well, shit, Alfred not only knows the kid but he's not going to ground Bruce either.

Bruce: I think the best course of action is to be taken immediately, we don't know what they're up to so we need to act quickly.

Billy, puffing out his chest, looks at Bruce with a smile on his face:. Okay, I'll go as Batman!.

Bruce raising an eyebrow:. No

Billy ignoring Bruce's denial: No discussion Robin, to the Batcave!

After Bruce and Billy leave the room, the boys and girls look at each other trying to understand what just happened.

Dick: We should make Bruce wear a Robin costume.

Jason: What a horrible sight... but I'd pay to see him in those scaly green dickhead swim trunks.

Tim: By the way, I didn't find any record of the new member being adopted... could it be a biological child?

Damien: a biological brother?... and apparently living in Batman's post too. A worthy opponent, our battle will be more than legendary!

Cassandra: Cute.

The End.

I don't know if it was good... But that's it. I had this idea a while ago but didn't expand on it, so I hope it was interesting to read.

And I hope it's not that confusing, sorry if anything.

Ps: sorry, I forgot a part of Thomas...

2ps: I corrected the sentence: "Tim takes off your lepto". Translated into my native language it became: "Tim takes off your leptospirosis".

This is what happens when you don't take the time to reread your own text.

[gold-onthe-inside]

a pearl

who? spencer reid (post-prison) x fem!reader based on: a pearl by mitski (and also pearl diver also by mitski) written for: @mggslover's event lyrics: “You’re growing tired of me. You love me so hard and I still can’t sleep/Sorry, I can’t take your touch. It’s not that I don’t want you.” word count: 0.9k content warnings: mentions cat adams, reference to addiction/drugs & sobriety

He stared at the flickering flame in the living room, knowing he’s left your sleeping frame upstairs, and rubbed the sobriety chip between his thumb and forefinger, and he remembers the moment he had fallen in love with your smile, a warm saccharine thing that had brightened your whole face when he tried to pull a coin from behind your ear, but it hadn’t worked, only for you to find it in your pockets. He hasn’t made you smile like that in a while. Not in 3 months, 20 days, and 14 hours. Not since Cat Adams had made it her mission to ruin his life, and yours along with him. This year had just been the tip of a long-building iceberg of issues that you kept having to put up with because of him.

And sure, things were okay now. His mom was in a good home in DC, always a call and a drive away. They had gotten his murder conviction overturned. He was supposed to be safe. Then why did he feel this uneasy all the time?

He’s so lost in himself, the firelight reflecting in his soft and worried hazel eyes, that he doesn’t hear you coming down the stairs, doesn’t see the cute donut pyjamas that usually make his heart melt, and physically flinches when you touch his shoulder, the chip in his hand falling to the floor. “Sorry,” you said instantly, “I didn’t mean to… You just weren’t in bed, I wanted to make sure you were—”

“I’m fine,” he said, a little too sharply, and usually, you’re better at controlling your expressions, but it’s 2 in the morning and you’re tired, so the concern is visible on your sleepy face.

“Honey, you don’t seem fine,” you said softly, approaching him like he was a skittish horse.

He let out a breath, bending down to pick up the sobriety token, while you wait and watch him straighten. “Can we not do this right now?” he asked, sounding tired, and he can see your concern deepen, adding another wrinkle to your brow, the corners of your lips turning down. He can see the battle that rages inside you every day, every time he acts like this — do you confront him? Do you put your foot down like you had all those years ago when he was coming to work while in withdrawal? What would it take for you to finally retaliate?

“Okay,” you said, in your gentle but firm way, looking at him evenly. “Two choices. We sit here and talk, or you come back upstairs with me and get some sleep. Either way, I’m not going back up without you.” Your arms come up to cross against your chest in what you think is a firm, decisive position to take, but Spencer’s sorely tempted to smile at you, and then his heart sinks all over again. It must have come up on his face because your arms start to fall and you walked over to pull him to sit next to you on the couch. “Sweetheart, will you please just tell me what’s going on with you?” you asked, and you think your heart might crawl out of your throat when Spencer pulled his hands away from yours.

“It’s nothing,” he said, and you can see his body closing off, all your work to bring him out of his shell, to coax him into the sunlight, vanishing like smoke. “Everything’s, you know, it’s fine. The team’s fine, my mom’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Which means it’s only a matter of time before things aren’t fine again,” you said, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “Right?” You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t felt it too — the panic in the middle of the night when he’s not there, the reminder you have to give yourself that he’s not in prison anymore, that he’s safe.

“I’m so tired,” he told you, his eyes falling to your hands, where you were gripping each other for fear of reaching out to him again. He was tired of waiting to get the phone call saying his mom was gone. Tired of the nightmares. Tired of feeling afraid in a house that was supposed to be his refuge.

“Sweetheart, you can’t rest when your body still thinks it’s on the run,” you told him gently.

“Then how do I get it to stop?” he asked you, a hint of desperation rising into his throat, causing his words come out more broken and shaky than he meant for them to, and it just made his chest ache more.

You leaned closer, pressing your forehead against his and cupping his cheek, feeling the light stubble on his jaw. "Stay here," you whispered. "In this moment. You and me. Nothing else."

“In this moment,” he echoed, his voice soft and quiet, barely more than a whisper. “You and me, and nothing else.” A hint of a smile spread across his lips, and you pressed a butterfly kiss to the corner before laying your head on his shoulder while he slid his arms around your waist. You don’t move, just eventually shift so you can both lay on the couch, the fire dying out into embers as he finally fell asleep to the rise and fall of your chest.

[borkunlimited]

Take Your Time, Miss Deer (Sylus x Reader) - Ch. 1

In a tailor shop tucked in the calmer side of the N109 zone is a little room where all clothes of many different designs come together under the delicate hands of an unassuming deer living in the den of all sorts of beasts and sitting on them is the dragon who wears your clothes.

Your many interactions with Skye, Mr. Sylus’ messenger or-

-Sylus is waiting for you to finally figure out he is playing his own messenger.

A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic

Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey

Author's Note: I was hesitant to cross-post first but after some thinking, maybe I should.

Enjoy!

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

1: My Dearest, Oblivious

The odd little crow came by again.

It was around afternoon when the crow landed on its usual perch on the open window of the studio where you are working and as usual, it carried with it little gifts.

Usually, it brings you beautiful flowers.

Sometimes, it brings you gemstones and ores.

It is such a sweet bird.

You don't know what to call the odd little crow so you just named it 'Daisy' and you even made a little ribbon that you tied around its neck with its name embroidered in it, not too heavy so it can still fly.

Just a little good luck charm.

Daisy only left when it gave you its recent gift on the palm of your hand and after you gave it a quick kiss on its head, you bid it goodbye, telling it to not do anything rash since the little thing is flying around the N109 zone. You can only assume it most likely has a nest around here as well.

Daisy is not the only one who showers you with gifts.

The first patron of this tailor shop, Mr. Sylus, also sends you gifts. He became one of your regular clients as well and you have sewn everything he requested, from suits to casual attires, each piece you worked on diligently.

Every finished work, he sends over a gift. Hairpins, vinyl records, and even tickets once to an opera for you and your father.

The bright red gemstone Daisy brought you cast a myriad of light as you held it up against the sunlight pouring inside your little studio together with the intricate stones that decorated the hairpin you are wearing right now.

You always wondered where the little crow finds such trinkets.

"You should take a break, sweetie."

The unfamiliar voice immediately made you put the little gift that Daisy has brought to you inside your apron pocket, your thoughts cut short.

"Oh, are you lost?", you asked, turning to face your surprise visitor, tucking your hair behind your ear. "The fitting room is just straight ahead, sir."

Every now and then, you get a glimpse of the shop's clients, almost all intimidating like this person before you. He is as imposing as the other men and women your father talks to, being the face of the business side of this humble tailor shop. Your eyes traced the dragon horns on top of his head and his tail while he leaned against the door frame, his crimson gaze trained towards you.

Back then, every fiber of your being will tell you to run, run as fast as you could away from a hybrid like him yet here you are, treating him like you are of the same kind.

"Lost? No, sweetheart. I never get lost," he replied, pushing himself off the door frame.

Sylus had always been meaning to finally visit you himself after Mephisto returned with a ribbon around his neck, bearing a different name.

And it was hilarious how Mephisto seemed to wear your gift and his ‘new name’ with pride.

The door behind Sylus closed with a soft click and it only took him a few strides to stand beside you, his footsteps silent on the hardwood floor and his tail swishing lazily while he studied your little studio. The space was lit by a few windows and the lights of the room cast a warm and cozy glow on the various fabrics and sewing materials scattered on every available surface.

In the midst of it all, is you, an unassuming deer hybrid, your deer ears twitching slightly while you studied him. A small smirk found its way on his face when he noticed the stray threads had found their way around your antlers and his eyes lingered on your neck for a moment.

You’re even adorable up close.

“I am well-aware of where the fitting room is,” he continued, his gaze steady, “But I think I'll stay here a bit longer, if you don't mind.”

“Oh, please make yourself comfortable,” you replied, casting him a small glance before you continue working on sewing together the fabric for Mr. Sylus' suit jacket.

You assume this man is either a client or maybe one of the clients brought him along, knowing that usually all of your customers bring an entourage of their security and sometimes, their guards manage to find their way here in your little studio where you work.

They tell you stories every now and then, ask you about your work, but mostly they content themselves observing while they wait for their bosses to wrap up their business with your father.

“What are you working on, sweetie?”

“A suit.”

“A suit, huh? And who is the client?”

“Mr. Sylus,” you answered, almost carefree, your hands tracing the intricate design you have embroidered in it.

There was a brief frown that crossed his face.

You don’t recognize him.

Sylus had always suspected that you don’t know the face of the man that you’ve been tailoring for all these months. Do you even know what kind of man he is? Or does your beloved father keep you in the dark, letting you stay here in your own world?

A selfish part in him secretly relished it-

-That you didn’t gaze at him like the monster he is.

He leaned against your work table beside you, taking a moment to admire the meticulous and detailed stitches of your work. How your delicate hands moved with such precision and dexterity, the needle an extension of your own body.

But he just had to test waters a bit, see how far he could go in this charade.

“You’re his personal tailor, sweetie?”, he asked, feigning innocence.

“Mr. Sylus said I am,” you nodded, putting together the fabric of the sleeves with pins before you run it in the sewing machine.

Most of your works during your first months of living here in the N109 zone are mostly requests from Mr. Sylus and then from there, the business skyrocketed. Your father said it was your talent but you also believe it was his business acumen that made it stable.

You wouldn’t be here without your father looking after you.

“And is he a good client to you?”, Sylus continued to inquire, crossing his arms while he observed your practiced movements, the way your hands held the fabric with such grace.

He wanted to know. Wanted to hear what you actually think of him.

“He always sends me gifts.”

He watched you tuck your hair behind your ear again, the light from the desk lamp catching the glimmer of the hairpin he has gifted you. It is quite satisfying, being here in person and seeing you wear one of his many gifts to you.

“Gifts, you say?”, he asked, leaning a bit closer, pretending to study your hairpin. "Such as..”, his eyes flicked down to the accessory, “This little thing here, sweetie?”

“It was one of his first gifts,” you nodded.

“His first gift,” he drawled, his lips curling into a smirk, “You do know that he’s a very dangerous man, don’t you, miss seamstress?”

You paused from your work.

People talk so much in the N109 zone and they seem more lax when they enter the shop, laying out all kinds of rumors. One of the main subjects of these rumors is Mr. Sylus, of course. The common theme across all rumors about him is that he is a very dangerous man but other than that, it is very difficult to get a better picture of who he is.

People claim he is quite cordial, as long as you fulfill your side of the bargain. Others disagree, saying that he is a man that takes without remorse.

Every rumor seemed to contradict each other so you simply stopped trying to make sense of them.

“Do you think he is, Mr.-?”, you tilted your head at him, unsure of what to call him.

“Oh, how rude of me,” Sylus said, his tone slightly playful, “I haven't introduced myself, have I, sweetie? I'm Skye.”

He took another step closer, his broad frame now towering over your petite figure, "And to answer your question, yes, he's a dangerous man. But shouldn't you know that already, little doe?"

“But what makes you say that?”, you asked, your brows slightly furrowed and he had to resist the urge to run his fingers on the fur of your deer ears drooping slightly, “Do you work for Mr. Sylus?”

In your eyes, Mr. Sylus is a generous man. Maybe a little shy because you never understood why he never hands you his gifts himself.

Oh, sweetheart.

You really are oblivious to the true nature of the man who wears your clothes and showers you with gifts in return, aren't you?

Sylus chuckled, his tail swishing lazily behind him while he watched you try to piece everything together. You are so gentle, tucked away in this corner of the N109 zone, in this little grove not so far from the den of all beasts, and the most formidable beast of them all is right here, standing right in front of you.

Yet you don’t even flinch. Why is that?

“You could say that, sweetie.”

“Like a bodyguard?”

“Sure, something like that.”

Your gaze shifted from him to the door behind his back. If this man is here, surely, Mr. Sylus is also here as well.

You can actually finally see your first client, the person who gave your father capital to start this shop and-

-you can thank him for all of the gifts.

Before you even had a chance to take a step towards the door, Sylus quickly reached out and grabbed you, his arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you back against him. His tail swished in front of you, blocking your path.

He held you firmly against his front, feeling your small frame press against him as he kept you in place. He could feel the subtle shift in your demeanor and he silently wonders why you are so excited to meet the man behind all the gifts even when he already told you ‘Mr. Sylus’ is a dangerous man.

“Ah ah ah, sweetheart,” he teased, his voice a low, rough murmur. “Where do you think you're going?”

"Mr. Sylus should be in the fitting room since you are here," you replied, trying to pry his grip from you but his hold further tightened instead.

Oh, how amusing you are with that little cute pout on your face.

“Is that why you were so eager to go? To finally see the man behind all the gifts?”, he whispered in your ear, the fur of your deer ear grazing the tip of his nose slightly as it twitched.

“Please let go,” you insisted, still trying to wriggle free from his hold and you slightly tensed up when you felt his tail wrapped around your ankle, the cool, smooth scales making contact with your skin.

“No can do, sweetheart. You're not going anywhere just yet,” he grinned, his voice rough and playful, “And there's no one in the fitting room, sweetie. It's empty.”

"Mr. Sylus.. isn't here?", you asked, confused and slightly disappointed while you paused from trying to pry his fingers off of you.

Technically, he is here. You just think he is someone else.

“No, little doe, I’m afraid he is not,” he answered, his breath warm against your skin.

Sylus watched your hands fall to your sides while your deer ears drooped, feeling the disappointment radiate off of you as you realized your beloved client isn’t present and he slightly frowned at the sight.

Now, he can’t have his favorite tailor all sad.

“What’s this?”, you asked, your eyes moving towards the small and rectangular box handed right in front of you.

“It’s a present, sweetie,” Sylus answered and a small smirk graced his features, “From Mr. Sylus.”

Honestly, he never thought there would be a day he would refer to himself as another person but here he is.

His fingers lingered on your skin for a moment when he gently placed the gift on your hands before crossing his arms, watching you open the cover.

It was then Sylus knew he had to come here just to see that expression you made over and over again.

Your face lit up with joy, an adorable smile spreading across your face as your eyes traced the shape of the newest hairpin he had commissioned from an artisan. Your deer ears perked up in excitement and delight at your newest treasure.

It was all so precious.

“Mr. Sylus sent you here to give me his gifts?”, you asked, slightly giddy as you shift back and forth.

“Yes, sweetheart,” he confirmed, nodding his head slightly, “Mr. Sylus had some things for you and asked me to deliver them.”

“Can you tell him-”

You bite your bottom lip, stopping yourself before the favor you want to ask spilled from your mouth. It feels odd asking one of Mr. Sylus’ men to carry a message for you on your behalf and you don't want it to look like you had a crush on the man whose face you haven't seen.

And you heard he is very old.

You just want to say thank you. That you are very grateful for his generosity to you and your father.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Sylus said, motioning for you to continue, “You can tell me, I'll pass it along.”

“Can you tell him that I love it?”, you asked, holding the box close to your chest.

He gazed at you fondly and for a moment, his smirk was replaced by a small smile upon hearing your request.

Earnest.

Innocent.

There are so many words he can describe you when you hear your sweet voice laced with gratitude.

“Of course, sweetie,” he replied softly, “I’ll make sure to pass that along.”

You don’t see the real him as a monster.

“And can you tell him..”, you spoke slowly, hiding your face with the box to cover the faint blush on your cheeks, “Can you tell him he doesn’t have to send gifts? I don’t want to take advantage of his generosity since he already pays us so much.”

“You're not taking advantage of anything, sweetheart,” Sylus replied, shaking his head slightly at the thought of not sending you gifts anymore, “Gifts are meant to be given and shared, or else they're useless, right?”

Perhaps Mr. Sylus’ messenger is right and you are simply not used to being showered with gifts not just by him but by your other clients who clearly appreciate your works. It is certainly odd that you have received more acknowledgement and praise in this place compared to where your father and you used to live.

Sylus smiled when he heard you softly murmur “You’re right” as you nodded slowly. He wanted to keep talking to you, to watch you work but he took a quick glance at his watch and he knew he had to cut this visit short.

He still had a few matters to attend to.

“Duty calls, sweetie,” he said, pushing himself off your desk and straightening his clothes.

His hand rested on the handle of the door and he turned briefly to you before he stepped out. He took in your form, your petite frame, your hairpin, and the bouquet of flowers he gave to you last week on the vase by the window, slightly wilted.

He will have to bring you fresh ones next time. Personally.

“Until then, little seamstress.”

“Until then, Skye.”

────────────────────

Mephisto is not an ordinary crow.

Sylus had created the mechanical crow from scratch. His feathered companion is programmed for intelligence gathering and had followed every task he assigned to it to the letter from watching over any of his business associates and his men to recently, bringing you gifts.

Initially, Sylus will send Mephisto every now and then, letting it carry little trinkets he thinks will brighten up your day but lately, the crow is doing it to his own accord, going as far as pilfering anything it thinks you will like from his various collections. Not that he minds.

“Still wearing your gift, I see,” Sylus commented, his eyes landing on the crow sitting on his perch inside his office.

His fingers brushed the length of the white ribbon tied around its neck and Mephisto tilted his head, letting out a caw as if telling him that he deserved to show off the gift you had tied around its neck just like how Sylus wears all the clothes you tailored for him with confidence.

“Look at you, so entitled,” Sylus pointed out, giving the end of the little ribbon a gentle tug, his finger grazing on the embroidered letters, “She named you ‘Daisy’, you know.”

Mephisto let out a loud caw this time, fully aware of its other name and telling him that it is the best name while it continued to preen under his touch.

Traitorous bird.

Since when did the loyalties of his own mechanical crow shifted from him to you, the little seamstress? Unbelievable.

Sylus’ thoughts were interrupted when Mephisto let out a soft beep, its wings flapping to sit on his shoulder and he raised an eyebrow, looking at his creation with wry amusement.

“What? No more quips for me?”, he asked sarcastically.

Mephisto tilted its head and there was a certain glint on its eyes, excited on what it is about to show to its master who has been pining for you for months.

It projected a hologram in front of him and Sylus can’t help but snort at the scene replaying before him.

In the glass of the window of Mephisto’s usual perch on your studio was his creation’s reflection and he watched as you pressed a chaste kiss on the top of its head before letting it fly away, bidding it to take care and visit soon.

Of course the bird is getting kisses.

Perhaps he had given too much autonomy over Mephisto because he is certain it is intentionally making him irritated, as absurd as it sounds.

He is jealous. Over a damn bird. His own creation. That he modified the program to look after you.

“You’re really enjoying all this attention, aren’t you?”, he asked, glancing at the crow who just ruffled his feathers in an almost smug manner.

“Ungrateful bird.”

Yet, the gentle scratch he gave under Mephisto’s beak says otherwise.

────────────────────

AO3

Ch. 1 / Ch. 2 / Ch. 3 / Ch.4 / Ch. 5 / Ch. 6 / Ch. 7 / Ch. 8 / Ch. 9 / Ch. 10 / Side A / Side B

[gerlionrise]

A Game Within the Game P2

001 x reader Synopsis: the final game: you made a mistake, yet lived. Saved by unseen power, bound by trust—and a dangerous obsession. This is part 2. Part 1 is here.

Part 3 is posted!

The room was filled with an ominous tension, the kind that could crush even the strongest will. Forty-five players remained, each on the precipice of life and death. The rules for the final game hadn't been revealed yet, but the silence among the contestants was deafening. 

You and 001 lingered near the edge of the group, a pocket of quiet amidst the chaos. His eyes, sharp and calculating, softened for a moment as they landed on you.  

“You’re shaking,” he observed, his voice low, almost gentle.  

You looked up at him, hesitant. “I just... I don’t want you to die in this game.”  

His expression froze for a second, a flicker of surprise passing through his composed demeanor. For all his usual calm and cryptic nature, this caught him off guard. He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper meant only for you. “You’re worried about me?”  

Your nod was small but sincere. The vulnerability in your gaze pulled something deep from him, something raw and buried. His lips twitched into the faintest smile, an expression both genuine and unsettling.  

“You don’t need to worry about me,” he said, his tone steady but carrying an unspoken weight, “Can I ask you something?” he continued. His voice soft, almost tender, but carrying a weight that made your chest tighten.  

You turned to him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. “What is it?”  

His eyes searched yours, as though trying to unearth an answer before you even spoke. He hesitated, “If it came down to it, would you choose me?”  

The question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” you asked, brows furrowing.  

“I mean,” he said, stepping even closer until there was barely any space between you, “would you stand by me? No matter what happens. No matter what I say or do. Would you be on my side?”  

The intensity in his gaze was almost suffocating, and for a moment, you couldn’t find the words to respond.  

“I… I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I mean, I trust you, but—”  

He interrupted, his hand gently brushing against your arm. “That’s all I need,” he said, his lips curving into the faintest smile. “Your trust. Promise me you’ll stay by my side. No matter what.”  

You hesitated but nodded, the sincerity in his voice stirring something in you. “Okay. I promise.”  

His smile widened, and for the first time, there was a softness in his expression that felt almost vulnerable. Then, without warning, he leaned in and pressed a light kiss to your cheek.  

Your breath caught as his lips lingered for just a moment longer than necessary. When he pulled back, his eyes met yours, dark and unwavering.  

“I’m doing everything to protect you,” he murmured, his voice low and firm

Before you could respond, the announcement for the next game echoed through the room, and 001 straightened, his expression hardening once more. “Stay close to me. No matter what happens, stay by my side,”  he finally added.

The guards, faceless and foreboding, moved with military precision, herding the remaining forty-five players into the arena. The rules were cruelly simple: reach the end of the trial before the timer ran out, or die.  

You clung to 001’s side as chaos erupted around you. Players shoved and scrambled, each desperate to survive. The obstacles were brutal—slippery platforms, swinging pendulums, sudden mechanical traps. You focused on 001, his calm presence grounding you in the storm.  

But then, it happened.  

You misstepped, slipping on a platform. The loud clang of the mistake echoed in your ears as the guards turned, their guns trained directly on you. Time seemed to freeze. You saw the cold gleam of their weapons, the faceless masks of the guards, and you knew this was it.  

“No!” you shouted instinctively, bracing for the inevitable.  

But the shot never came.  

Instead, a burst of gunfire erupted—not at you, but at the other players. One by one, they fell, their screams cutting through the air. Blood pooled across the platform as the guards methodically eliminated everyone else. The chaos lasted only seconds, but when it ended, the silence was deafening.  

You stood alone, surrounded by bodies. The realization hit you like a physical blow—forty-five players had entered this game, and now only you and the other one remained.  

001 approached you slowly, his expression unreadable. His hands were in his pockets, his stride casual, as though this massacre was nothing more than a planned inevitability.  

“W-what just happened?” you stammered, your voice shaking. “Why didn’t they... why am I...?”  

He stopped in front of you, his towering presence both comforting and terrifying. His gaze was steady, piercing, as if he were looking straight through you. Then, he reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.  

“I told you,” he said softly, his tone almost soothing. “I won’t let you die.”  

Your breath hitched as the weight of his words sank in. “What... what did you do?”  

001’s smile was faint, more of a smirk than anything warm. “I did what was necessary.”  

He leaned closer, his voice a low murmur. “You trust me, don’t you?”  

Your head swam with questions, fear, and disbelief. But when you met his gaze, there was something hypnotic about it—a magnetic pull you couldn’t resist. You nodded, almost against your will.  

“Good,” he said, his smile widening. He straightened, his posture commanding now. His lips parted to speak again—  

But a gunshot cracked through the air.  

Pain exploded in your side, your knees buckling beneath you as the world seemed to tilt. 001’s arms were around you in an instant, catching your weight before you could hit the ground. His eyes were wide, raw with a mixture of shock and rage.

Blood seeped between his fingers as he held you tightly, his grip almost bruising in its desperation. His gaze shot up, locking onto the figure across the arena. 011 stood there, gun still raised, her posture tense but defiant.  

“You had a command - not to shoot this player,” 001’s voice was a growl now, deep and dangerous, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. The guards nearby froze, unsure whether to intervene or await orders.  

011 didn’t flinch. “I’m doing what I’m supposed to do,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt.

The words barely registered to 001. His focus was on you—your shallow breaths, the crimson spreading across your clothes.

Your vision blurred, but you managed to meet his eyes. They were burning—wild, unhinged, and utterly fixated on you.   __ Tag: @r3va-dwme If you want to be tagged in the next part - let me know in the comments!

[erosjournal]

☆ curse of aphrodite !

~ percy jackson x child of aphrodite reader

~ synopsis : your mom likes to play pranks on the partners of her kids , this including you and percy - based on this post !

~ tw(s): implied sexual content , nothing actually sexual , i promise !

When Percy and you first got together, after your first kiss, you decided you needed to tell him something.

"Percy--" You stuttered, him nipping at your lip. He looked up to face you.

"Hm?" You hesitated, unsure how to explain the situation to him.

"... I need to tell you something," You muttered nervously. Percy looked at you, concerned.

"What's up?"

"Uh, promise not to freak out," He nodded, growing more concerned. "Well, uh, so you know I'm a child of Aphrodite..." You started. Percy nodded.

"Yup. That's probably how you got me," He teased, trying to lighten the mood. You rolled you eyes.

"Focus, Perseus. Now, I need to tell you beforehand, she really likes to play jokes on people that date her kids."

"Jokes... like how?" Percy asked. "They can't be that bad, right?"

"Well, it depends. They can be as simple as candy hearts always under their pillow, to having vibrators in their jacket pockets..." You blushed, looking away from Percy. He seemed to flush too.

"How long does this curse usually last?"

"About a month, I promise." Percy nodded, kissing you again. "I can last a month for you."

Turns out Percy's curse was on the worse side.

You were sitting in the cabin, fidgeting with some decor in the room, when Percy rushed into the room.

"Oh!"

Percy was out of breath, exhausted. He heaved, trying to stutter out words.

"Fuck your mom! She must not like that I'm a child of the big three," He groaned. You blushed, noticing something off about him. First of all, his voice. His voice had a really hot accent and it set something off in you. His hair was fluffy and clean, his clothes without a single wrinkle.

"Percy...?" You muttered, walking over to him. He looked up, frowning.

"I've been talking like this all day! And..." He reached in his pocket, a handful of condoms being pulled out. "I keep getting these! I've been donating them to Will for his sex ed classes, but I can't do this for a month," He whined. He runs to hug you, clutching you like a child. You card your fingers through his hair, feeling a little bad.

"I'm sorry Perce," You sigh, kissing his hair as he sighs into your shirt. He looks up at you.

"I don't like your mom." He whines. You worry a little, knowing that the Gods usually took this to heart, especially with Percy Jackson. You kiss his hair again, hushing him.

"I love you," You offer. He snickers.

"Love you." He looks up and kisses your lips, sighing. "You know what, I don't care."

"You're worth a month of dumb pranks."

~ an : omg i love this hc so much i had to write a lil thing on it ! i hope u liked , and i think this is so cute and silly !! also sorry , i ended it awkwardly , ong didnt know how to end it.