#flexible stair nosing

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version) II

Alexia Putellas x Teen!Reader

Summary: Alexia comes home from work

Alexia comes in from a long day of coaching to find carnage in the house but no more than usual.

Jaume's muddy football boots are scattered in the entrance hall along with his school bag and his training bag. His jacket is thrown callously on the ground and she can just make out the dishes he hasn't cleaned up from his afternoon snack on the kitchen counters.

Her son is found in the living room, whirred into a game of FIFA and talking into his headset to his friends.

Your own ballet bag sits at the bottom of the stairs and Alexia can hear rhythmic thumping from your bedroom. She pops the door open and throws your bag onto the bed.

You're sitting at your desk, breaking in your pointe shoe by thwacking it against the corner of your study space. You're attacking the shank of your shoe viciously while your other one lays perfectly broken in next to you.

You've raided the sewing box too, a needle already threaded so you can sew on your ribbons as soon as you're done breaking in your second shoe.

"Did that one do something to you?" Alexia says and you jolt in shock, not having realised she came in.

"Yeah," You reply with a wry smile," It didn't come broken in." You whack it one final time against your desk and test its flexibility, finally content and get to work sewing your ribbons onto the shoes.

"You left your bag by the stairs," Alexia says and you roll your eyes.

"Jaume left his stuff all over the house," You reply," He's so messy."

"He's a boy. Boys are messy."

"Have you made him clean it up yet?"

"I'm letting him finish his FIFA match. It might embarrass him in front of his friends."

You roll your eyes again, tying off your first ribbons before moving onto the second. "They're so annoying."

"They're hormonal," Alexia replies. She takes your other shoe and starts sewing a set of ribbons on. "They'll grow out of it."

"Can they grow out of it now?" You mutter," I'm sick of them watching me."

Alexia freezes, like a pail of icy water has been thrown on top of her. Her mouth goes dry. "What?"

You give her a look. "Huh?"

"What do you mean they're watching you?"

You shrug. "I don't know. They're hormonal boys. I'm Jaume's older sister." You wrinkle your nose. "They say gross things sometimes. It's not a big deal."

Alexia hates that aspect of you. You're so resigned to the concept that it is what it is. You had problems like this when you were younger too, merely accepting bullying and rude words at you because you didn't think it would matter if you tried to fight it.

It's something that Alexia's never managed to snap you out of but she never thought that she would see it in a situation like this.

"What kinds of things?"

You frown at her. "I thought you knew."

"No! Is that why you didn't tell me?"

You shrug. "I thought if you were fine with it happening then I should be fine with it happening."

"No...Bambi...You should never think that those kinds of things are okay. They're not and if it happens again, you come to me right away."

You nod, not fully convinced. "Okay, Mami."

"Hey," She says," Put on your shoes. We're overdue a catch up."

Alexia's busy coaching at Barcelona most days. She's almost always working but she tries to find the time for you and Jaume both together and alone. It used to be a tradition that she would take you out once a week by yourself to 'catch up' but work has been so busy these past few weeks so you're long overdue some one-on-one time together.

"I'm sewing my ribbons!" You complain and Alexia fondly ruffles your hair.

"And you can take a break. You've just come from a full day of dancing. Go put on comfortable shoes. You can sew your ribbons tonight."

You huff but do what you're told.

Alexia goes back downstairs, switching the tv off.

"Mami!" Jaume complains, pulling down his headset," I was in the middle of a match!"

She gives him a pointed look. "And your stuff is in the middle of my house."

"I'll pick it up later."

"You'll pick it up now," Alexia says," This isn't your room, Jaume. I like my house to be tidy."

He huffs and moves to get up.

"And tell your friends to stop saying foul things to your sister."

He freezes, every muscle in his body going rigid and stiff. "What?"

"I know what teenage boys are like, Jaume, and I understand peer pressure and not saying anything so you can fit in but this isn't school. Your sister deserves to come home and feel safe."

"It...It was just jokes, Mami."

"Was it? You may think they were joking but were they actually?"

Jaume's face grows a little confused. "But they had to be! There's...There's no way they'd come to our house and...and say those things to her and actually mean them! Right? Mami, right?"

"Jaume..." Alexia sighs. It's clear to her now that Jaume genuinely had no idea that his friends could actually mean what they said. Alexia takes some comfort in knowing that, at least, Jaume hadn't done this out of spite or any other malicious feeling towards you. "Even if they were jokes, your sister doesn't need to be made fun of in her own house. If you let them get away with stuff now then they're just going to keep building and building and building on it until it's too late to stop them."

"Mami..." Jaume looks heartbroken now, glancing up the stairs where he knows you're doing something in your room. "They...She...Is she okay?"

"I'm taking your sister out," Alexia says," She's had a long day at practice and she needs some time to decompress, okay? Can I trust you to clean up your stuff and get started on your homework?"

He nods.

"Good boy." Alexia kisses his forehead. "Your Mama should be home soon. No tv until your work is done."

"Okay, Mami."

Jaume sits himself at the kitchen table, going through a mind-numbingly boring Physics worksheet when you come down.

"Ready to go?" Alexia asks and you nod.

"Hey, wait!" Jaume calls out and you stop, turning to look at you. "I love you."

You frown in confusion. "I love you too."

"Good," He says," I mean, it's good that you know that I love you." He nods several times and a small bubble of laughter erupts from you.

Jaume grins like he just won the lottery and Alexia trusts in her son to lay down the law with his friends.

She guides you out the door and to the car, driving down to some quaint café that's opened up nearby.

"A milkshake?" Alexia offers after you've found a table," I heard from Mapi that they do those big monster ones with a cupcake stabbed through the straw."

"Mami," You admonish," I still have dance tomorrow."

"Hmm," Alexia says," You're right. It's probably too big for one each. We can share."

"Mami!" You laugh," I'm trying to stay healthy. The Spring Season starts soon. We have performances to do."

Alexia reaches over to pinch your cheek and you roll your eyes. "Well, I'm your Mami and I say it's okay. You know, I'm quite wise."

"Fine," You say," But if we're getting a milkshake then let's get the red velvet one."

"Whatever you want, bambi."

Alexia orders some cupcakes and a cookie with it and rolls her eyes as you mock complain with no actual annoyance in your tone.

"Now," She says," I've spoken to your brother and he's going to sort his friends out or else."

You roll your eyes, poking at your food. "It's fine. I can deal with it."

"You shouldn't have to deal with it." Alexia reaches across the table for your hand. "Boys will be boys but that doesn't mean they should be saying those things to you. I...I just...Bambi why didn't you tell me?"

You bit the inside of your cheek, eyes darting to the side.

"Bambi," Alexia says again," Come on. You can tell me things, you know that, right?"

You nod. "I just...I was worried that I was being silly. That..." You shrug. "You know, you would think I was overreacting. It shouldn't bother me as much as it is. They're just stupid boys."

"Boys are always stupid," Alexia says decisively," And I don't think you're overreacting. It's going to be sorted out. If Jaume doesn't then I will."

She speaks so firmly that you can't help but agree, saved from replying by your mouth full of cake.

You still look a little awkward talking about it though so Alexia pivots the conversation away.

"So," She asks," What ballet is it this season?"

You're not usually talkative about the ballets you're practising, preferring it to be a surprise when you gift the family tickets to opening night but with the season approaching, you don't mind as much.

"First half of the season is La Sylphide," You say, sipping on the straw of the milkshake," Second half is Giselle."

Those words mean nothing to Alexia but you look excited so she decides to be excited for you.

Your cheeks go a little red and you pick at your cake. "Actually...I...er..."

"Is something wrong?"

"No...I...Do you remember when I told you that a few of our soloists got injured?"

Alexia racks her brain. "I think so. You said it was after the Nutcracker performances, right?"

You nod. "Well, they're still not back and the balletmaster decided to start doing understudies in case of injuries and sickness."

Alexia nods along. It's a smart choice, like rotating the players in a team.

You don't look at her, staring down at your plate.

"They're guaranteed one night though, you know, as the lead."

"Okay?"

"Mami, I'm playing Giselle."

Alexia chokes. "What?"

You finally look up at her. "I'm playing the lead, Mami."

"I..." Alexia whips out her phone. "What day is it? I need to check I'm not busy. No, I'll rearrange my meetings if I am. Oh, we'll have to call your Abuela and your Tia. Oh! And Mapi too! Jenni, as well." She starts typing away at her phone. "Wait, let me just text Olga. We'll have to get Jaume a proper outfit if you're going to play lead. And-"

"Mami," You cut her off though your voice is soft and quiet," It's not that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?!" Alexia scoffs," You're seventeen years old, playing the lead in a professional ballet company! How could you keep this a secret?! Oh, bambi, we have to sort out tickets. What day did you say it was?"

You laugh. "I didn't, Mami."

Alexia crams the rest of her cake into her mouth. "We have to get home. We have to tell Jaume and Olga!" She looks at you for a moment. "So grown up! My little baby, playing the lead!"

You slouch in your seat. "Mami, calm down. It's for one night. People are staring."

"Up! Up!" Alexia insists," Come on! What do you want for dinner?"

"Mami-"

"You choose. Anything! Anything you want!"

"Mami-"

"What about that fancy place near Alba's house? I think I can get us a reservation."

"Mami!"

"Sorry, bambi. What did you want?"

"Can I just have a hug?"

Alexia pulls you into a hug, cradling the back of your head with her hand. "You make me so proud, bambi. I love you so much."

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets roped into helping Bob coach tee ball, even though he knows nothing about kids. But he is immediately charmed by his team and one of the moms.

Warnings: Fluff, angst and swearing

Length: 3400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"I could really use your help," Bob told Bradley over some drinks at the Hard Deck. "Jake wouldn't take it seriously enough, and Phoenix already volunteers at the animal shelter. Will you do it?"

Bradley tipped his pint glass against his lips and took a long drink. "Ten weeks is a long time," he told his friend. 

Bob drummed his fingers against the bartop. "I need a contingency plan in case I get deployed. That's the only way the league will let me coach a team."

Bradley leaned forward on his elbow. "Bob, I don't really even know anything about tee ball. Or kids for that matter."

"You played baseball in college!" Bob reminded him with a hopeful smile. "And you were really good, right? Starting shortstop all four years?"

"You're just trying to use that against me, aren't you?" Bradley asked with a chuckle. 

"Of course I am! My sister is begging me to do this, and I want to! My niece is struggling in school, but she loves sports. I think she would do better with a coach she's familiar with," Bob gushed. "Come on."

But he was still shaking his head. "It's not that I don't want to, Bob. It's just that, I don't know anything about kids!"

"Kids are simple. You treat them like their opinions matter, and they'll love you forever. At least that's how it works with Piper, my niece."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh. It wasn't like he had anything better to do with his time. He was single, work ended at 4:30 when he wasn't deployed, and he really did love baseball. It might be fun to teach a bunch of kids how to play. Hell, what did he have to lose?

"Yeah, okay."

Bob's eyes went wide behind his glasses. "Really? You'll be the co-coach of the Tiny Eagles with me?"

With a shrug and a smile, Bradley nodded his head. "Yeah, Bob. I'll be your co-coach."

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

"What do you mean you're not allowed peanut butter in the lunchroom?" you asked your son as you were making his school lunch. "You took a peanut butter and jelly sandwich on Friday!"

"That was last week, mommy. The rules have changed, and it's important to be flexible."

You really despised it when your six year old used your own words against you.

"Everett, I don't have time for this. You'll need to buy lunch today, okay? Be flexible?" you said, glancing down at your half-dressed body. You needed to be on time for work today, therefore the elementary school cafeteria food would just have to do.

Everett scrunched up his nose but said, "Okay, mommy."

"Perfect," you said, shoving the jar of peanut butter to the side and pouring two bowls of cereal. "Eat your cheerios so I can get you to school."

You inhaled your own breakfast and then dashed back up to your room to finish getting ready. Your suit with the tight pants was the only one that was clean, so you squeezed yourself into them and found a clean bra. Frank would be in the office today, and you'd gotten used to him meeting up with you around lunchtime to make out a little bit, even though it was strictly against company policy. He'd like the tight pants, you supposed. 

Once you added some mascara and lip gloss to your face, you found your black heels and started back down the stairs. "Shit," you muttered, turning around again. Today was Everett's first day of tee ball practice, so you grabbed a pair of old sneakers to change into later. 

You felt like a scattered mess all the time, especially since Danny, your ex-husband was almost no help with Everett. Every time you thought about him, you wanted to punch the wall, so you took a calming breath and put a smile back on your face before you entered the kitchen. 

"Let's get going, sweetie. You've got tee ball after school today, so I'm packing some extra snacks."

"Yes!" Everett cheered. "I've been waiting all month for baseball to start!"

You smiled and ushered him out to your car. "Remember, it's not quite baseball, so don't get ahead of yourself, Ev. But tee ball is a good place to start."

"Yeah, I know. But it's still going to be fun."

Once you dropped him off at school, you raced to your office and tried to sneak to your desk without anyone bothering you. Thankfully you made it all the way there before Frank let himself in. 

Yeah, you and he were hooking up. Yeah, you had slept over his house last weekend while Everett was with your sister. But you still didn't want him to just waltz into your office whenever he felt like it.

"Hey, baby," he whispered, walking toward your desk. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Frank," you told him, trying to compile your spreadsheets while he kissed your cheek. "Just very busy. And Everett has practice this evening."

"When are you free to go out again?" he asked, stroking his fingers down your neck. God, it felt good to be touched like this, but Frank really wasn't your type, and he was mediocre at everything. He was mediocre at work, usually doing the bare minimum. He was a mediocre kisser. He had mediocre looks. He was probably below average in bed. 

But you were a single mom who barely had time to eat, only washed her hair three times a week, and usually fell asleep about thirty minutes after Everett did every night. 

"I'm not sure, Frank. I'll have to let you know." Bottom line, you'd probably schedule another date for next week when you'd be too horny again to mind that you weren't that into him. Not the best way to live your life, but what else were you supposed to do?

"You just call me, and I'll take you out anywhere you want."

What you wanted was to be able to introduce Everett to the guy you were spending time with, but Frank hated kids. 

"I'll let you know. I'm just busy at the moment, so..." You let your sentence hang until he nodded and took the hint. When your door closed behind him, you got back to work. Of course you were in the middle of a phone call and existing solely on caffeine when your alarm went off to let you know you needed to go pick Everett up.

"Sounds great. I'll talk to my clients and get back to you soon," you said, ending your work call and sweeping your work into your bag. 

"Shit." You'd accidentally skipped your lunch again. You ate your sandwich while you were in the car pickup line at Everett's school and then touched up your mascara and lip gloss. 

"Ready, sweetie? First day of practice!"

He climbed into the car and buckled himself into his seat. "Ready!"

You just smiled as he tugged his Phillies hat lower over his forehead. You'd been taking him to Padres games as often as you could, ever since he'd become obsessed with baseball. Each time the Padres played a new team, you let Everett pick out a shirt or hat to remember the game by. For some reason that Phillies cap was his favorite. 

"I hope my team colors are red and white, so they match my hat," he said, munching on a snack while you pulled into the ballpark lot. 

"That would be fun. Just remember, we don't complain about things like the color of your uniform," you mumbled, snagging an empty spot next to a vintage Ford Bronco. You gave it a quick once over before you got Everett and his equipment out of the car and started to head toward the field, changing your shoes as you went. 

"Are those my coaches?" Everett asked as you lugged his bat and carried your heels in one hand. "What were their names again?"

"Um, Coach Bob and Coach Bradley? I think? We'll find out in a minute," you said, but when you looked up, you saw two extremely handsome men walking toward you. They were wearing matching blue jerseys, caps and whistles, and your tummy dipped at the way the one with darker hair carried himself when he walked. He was almost strutting across the infield, and his baseball cap was on backwards. 

You bit back an embarrassing sound before it could escape you, and you had to force your mouth to shut.

"Come on, mommy!" 

Your attention snapped back to your son who was now headed for the bleachers. He was already changing into his cleats amongst all the other kids by the time you caught up to him. 

When you glanced up toward the coaches again, the one with the backward hat was already looking at you. His head was cocked a little to one side, and he had a cute, crooked smile playing at the corner of his mouth. And you immediately wanted to disappear. 

How embarrassing, being caught out like that. The blond coach with glasses blew his whistle, and the kids went into a frenzy. You quickly shoved Everett's sneakers into his bag and got your phone out. You took a seat near the other parents while Everett and the other kids all trotted out to the field.

But you could clearly hear the two women behind you whispering. "These coaches are eye candy, Tara! This season is going to be fantastic!" 

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

"Here's the full schedule. And you don't have to worry about the theme days, because I already took care of all of them," Bob said, clearly trying to sound reassuring as he handed Bradley packet after packet of paperwork.

"Theme days?" Bradley asked, skimming the calendar. 

"Yeah, like there's a day where the kids can wear costumes for practice. Another day where they can dress in their favorite sports shirt. A swim party. Fun stuff to keep them engaged. I already added them to the calendar," Bob said. Bradley just nodded as they made their way back across the field. 

But when he looked up toward the bleachers, his eyes caught on something so pretty, he couldn't look away. You were carrying some seriously tall high heels in one hand and a tee ball bat in the other as you made your way toward the huge group of kids. 

Bradley should be embarrassed. He really should. He had assured Nat that there was no way he was going to start jonesing for any of the moms. They weren't his type. He never sought them out, and he never ever dated them. 

But there was no denying that you were exactly the type of woman he'd try to chat up. You were pretty; god, you were gorgeous. Your suit pants were distractingly tight, and he thought your sneakers looked cute paired with them. He was grinning when you made eye contact with him, and his smile just grew. 

He watched you scramble and pull your phone out of your pocket just as Bob blew his whistle, calling the kids onto the field. 

"Welcome, Tiny Eagles! I'm Coach Bob, and this is Coach Bradley! Who's excited to be here for tee ball?"

Bradley couldn't help but smile as all of the kids jumped up and down and cheered. Lots of them had cute grins with missing teeth, and Bob's niece Piper was hugging Bob's leg. 

"When I point at you, tell us your name, okay?" Bob went through the group of twenty kids, and Bradley would be lucky to remember even three of their names after this first practice.

"Let's get started with some warm-ups!" Bob instructed. "Who knows how to do jumping jacks?"

All of the kids started jumping at the same time while Bradley and Bob tried to get them to count to ten. Their excitement had Bradley smiling and laughing, and at Bob's instruction, he led all the kids in a jog around the bases. When he rounded second base and then third, Bradley had the perfect view of you sitting at the bottom of the bleachers. 

You were tucking your hair behind your ear, and he met your eyes again. This time you smiled back before your eyes dipped to the turf in front of you. Then you glanced up again and waved your fingers to whichever kid was yours. Bradley could imagine you waving to him that way. He could imagine you doing a lot of things he might like. 

He sighed and joined Bob as he started to get the kids lined up for practice catching. Bradley adjusted gloves on a few kids' hands, and then he knelt down in front of an adorable little boy who had untied laces.

"Hey kiddo, what's your name again?"

"Everett!" 

"Right. Everett. Can I re-tie your laces for you? Make them nice and tight? Don't want any injuries so early in the season."

When the boy nodded, Bradley started to tie up the cleats for him.

"I like your Phillies cap. That's my favorite team," Bradley said with a smile.

He watched the kid's eyes grow wide. "Really? It's my favorite team, too! My mom took me to see them play the Padres last year, and they won!"

"Oh yeah? Your mom sounds cool."

He nodded vigorously. "My mom is so fun. She doesn't really know stuff about baseball, but she took me to a bunch of games to see different teams last summer."

Bradley was grinning as he was about to stand. "Which one's your mom?"

Everett turned to look over his shoulder, and Bradley followed his extended finger to where you were sitting. "Over there. In the suit."

Bradley watched you uncross and recross your legs and play with your hair before you glanced up from your phone and found him and Everett both looking at you. A hesitant smile found your lips and you waved again. This time Everett and Bradley both waved back. 

"Holy cow, kid. Your dad's lucky."

Everett just gave Bradley a confused look. "Oh, no. He's not fun like her. He doesn't take me anywhere."

"Ready?" Bob called to where Bradley and Everett were chatting. With one final look at you, Bradley stood and led Everett by the hand to where the kids were all lined up along the first base line. 

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

So that was Coach Bradley. You didn't seem capable of keeping your eyes off him. Your phone kept buzzing with work emails that you kept ignoring. Any time Everett wasn't engaged in the practice, your gaze drifted to Coach Bradley, his backward hat, and his snug shorts. 

The other moms and nannies were all abuzz over the cute coaches, and you were silently agreeing with everything they said.

"They both must be at least six foot two."

"I wonder if they are single. I don't see any rings. God, I hope they are single."

"I'd let Coach Bradley bring his whistle to bed."

When practice ended, you were flushed and warm as you started to gather up Everett's bag. He came running over to you with his arms outstretched for a hug. 

"Guess what! Coach Bradley likes the Phillies!"

You laughed as you caught him for a hug. "Does he really?" you asked, glancing to see that all of the moms had swarmed around both of the coaches. 

"Yeah! It's his favorite team!" 

"Did you have fun then? Tee ball is a success, and you want to come back on Thursday?"

"Yes!"

"Love to hear that. Let's get packed up and head home for dinner."

But Coach Bradley was looking at you again as you tossed Everett's mitt and cleats into his bag. And when you began to turn to head back to your car, he came jogging over to you.

"Hi," he said with a smile. "I didn't get to introduce myself before. I'm Bradley."

He held out his big hand to you, but you felt like you were moving in slow motion now. His voice was so deep and raspy, and his hand was big and calloused. He was so tall, standing right in front of you and smelling like sweat and spicy deodorant. And you didn't even want to get started on his brown eyes and his mustache. You were turned on enough that you feared you might squeak instead of actually speaking, but you did manage to open your mouth and tell him your name as you slipped your hand into his. 

"It's nice to meet you," he replied, and your tummy dipped again. "Everett told me you took him to see the Phillies play."

"I did. Last summer. He's baseball obsessed." You were still gently shaking his hand, but he wasn't letting go yet.

"He's a fun kid. Happy he's on my team."

"He likes you already," you said with a smile, and as your hand left his, you missed his warmth right away.

Suddenly Everett popped up next to you. "I'm hungry."

You kissed his forehead and said, "I have snacks for you in the car. And I'll make dinner as soon as we get home. Can you thank your coaches?"

Everett smiled and gave Bradley a high five when he held his hand up. "Thanks Coach Bradley," he said before running off toward Coach Bob. 

You went to grab the equipment bag off of the bench, but Bradley reached for it too. "If you're heading out, I could walk up with you." You nodded and let him take the bag as Everett ran back over. 

As you scooped up your heels and led the way to your car, you listened to your son ask his coach a string of questions.

"Are we going to do batting on Thursday? What if it rains? Do we get a rain delay? Have you ever won coach of the year? How long have you been a Phillies fan?"

You were just about to tell Everett to chill, but Bradley started to answer all of the questions in stride. 

"We are definitely going to have batting practice on Thursday. I'm pretty sure we will just cancel practice if it rains. You don't want your mom to have to sit on a bench in the rain while you have all the fun and get muddy, do you?"

Everett just laughed and shook his head. 

Bradley continued. "This is my first time coaching, so no awards yet. And I've been a Phillies fan since I was about your age." 

"How old are you now?" Everett asked.

"That's not nice to ask adults, Ev," you said, tossing Bradley an apologetic look.

"What? I just want to know if he's the same age as you," Everett replied. Then he turned to Bradley and said, "My mom is thirty three."

"Everett!"

But Bradley was just laughing. "How about a math problem. What's thirty three plus three?" he asked, but he was still smiling at you as he adjusted his baseball cap.

"Thirty six!" Everett said as you all reached your car.

"That's how old I am," Bradley informed him with a smirk. "And you're very good at math."

"Mom! He's your age!"

"That's enough, Ev," you said, ushering him into the back seat. You took the bag from Bradley and tossed in on the backseat as well.

You turned to Bradley and tucked your hair behind your ear. "Thanks for walking us up. And sorry about the interrogation."

"I don't mind," he said, leaning in closer to you so he could see Everett, and making your breath hitch in the process. "See you on Thursday, kiddo?" he asked Everett, and his neck was right next to your face. He smelled so good.

"See you on Thursday, Coach!"

Bradley opened the driver's door for you, and as you thanked him and slid past, you realized you were more attracted to him after less than an hour in his presence than you were to Frank. 

"See you on Thursday," he said before gently closing your door. 

As you backed out of your parking spot, you watched him toss some of his gear and his hat into the vintage Bronco. He ran his hand through his hair and waved to Everett who was waving out the window. 

"Coach Bradley is so cool."

"I'm glad you liked him," you replied, and you watched him in your side view mirror as he started unbuttoning his jersey. You swallowed hard. "I liked him, too." 

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

He's here! He's really here! And I am excited! I hope you liked this first part! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thanks to@mak-32 for the gorgeous banner for this fic!

PART 2

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[russellsppttemplates]

What if you and the kids gang up on me? (Pierre Gasly)

Pierre is doing what he can to makes sure his children are raised knowing their roots

Note: english is not my first language. As you maybe know by now, talking about these subjects is a big responsibility for me, but I always hope that I have treated them properly. Also, these are some traditions that I remembered and that I know about!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: pregnancy

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Did you find what you were looking for?", you asked your husband when he found you in the living room. Because Alexandre had been a little bit fussy the night before and you still had some things to prepare and sort out for the big night tomorrow, you ended up staying with your little boy at home while Pierre went out to get something he needed.

"Yes, they fit well, too. I just put them in the washing machine. And how's this little guy, hm? Is he feeling better?", he pointed to your son. He had been attached to you the whole day, so he had ended up falling asleep on top of you, "he's feeling a bit sorry for himself still, but he's sleeping now, so I guess that's a good thing", you chuckled, remembering the past night where you and Pierre almost slept in shifts since your little boy kept needing your full attention.

The next day, Pierre's parents arrived after lunch, making it the perfect timing to get the kitchen and the dining room ready for the New Year's Eve celebration. Because of how young your son was, you opted to stay inside and have dinner with your in-laws, making the situation a lot more flexible.

"Are you not going to put on the dress you bought?", Pierre asked, taking Alexandre from your arms, "I don't know if it fits me all that well", you admitted, "I'm sure it will, amour, you look gorgeous in everything", he ushered you up the stairs.

While you got ready, Pierre softly knocked on the door of the guest room his parents were staying in, "are you guys ready?", he asked, seeing his parents dressed according to the request he made. Moving to the nursery, he laid his son on the changing mat, grabbing the white shirt and soft pants from the wardrobe before pulling his own trousers he had hid in the room, "let's surprise mama, yes? I bet she'll be so happy to see you. You look like the most handsome boy ever", he kissed his cheek, changing himself as well and walking back to your bedroom to surprise you.

"Me and Alexandre need you to close your eyes", Pierre said after he knocked, "my eyes are closer then", you said, hearing footsteps approach you when you heard your husband's command, "you can open them now".

Opening your eyes, you saw both of your boyd in all white outfits, matching your own, "I know you always wear white because of the traditions you have, so I thought it would be a good one to start now that we have this little one", he smiled, handing Alexandre back to you when you opened and closed your hands and encouraged him to do so.

"This is amazing, amour", you thanked, kissing his lips before taking a good look at both of them, "look at you, meu amor", you kissed your son's cheeks, earning a little giggle from him, "you look so handsome, although I think your outfit won't be this clean for much longer", you tapped his nose.

"Knowing you, yours won't either", your husband teased you, "you look amazing, mon ange", he kissed your forehead, "breathtaking as usual", he smiled, "C'mon, my mother also needed help with her dress and my father was having some trouble with the zipper, and you might be the only one to be able to fiddle with it".

.

"Papa, I want something sweet to eat", Alexandre said, looking for a snack in the cupboard, "do you know how to make those chocolaty balls mama makes? The brigadeiros", the boy struggled with the last words, the letter R still a challenge for him to bend, "Oh, those are so good, papa, please make them!", Louis said.

Pierre had seen you make them what felt like a thousand times before, but now he was doubting himself, "How about we do them together?", he suggested, thinking that if the recipe tasted different, he could also blame it on the fact his children helped him do it and that's why it tasted off and not because of his baking skills.

"First, ingredients!", Pierre announced, moving to the cupboard where you kept the sweet ingredients, "we need this can here, which is called leite condensado, and some cocoa powder", he helped them reach the shelves and grab what they needed, "we also need margarina", he showed them the block of margarine he got from the fridge, "Oh, the word is very similar to the French one", the oldest boy said, "that's right, a lot of the words are similar", he smiled, grabbing the measuring spoons and the pot they needed.

"It makes it easier to learn, even if I'm not that good at it", Alexandre admitted, pouting slightly, "the other day I asked mama to speak to me in Portuguese and I got her request messed up, she wanted her hairbrush and I got her a hair tie", he confessed.

Helping Louis up on the wooden tower so he could be at the level of the counter, Pierre spoke to Alexandre, "you know learning a new language is hard, you're still getting used to it, right? And you're doing a good job, buddy! The first time mama asked me for something in Portuguese, she said it was in the bathroom and I went to the kitchen", he nudged him, seeing his smile creep up.

"So, we have to heat this up, and we have to be careful because we can't have bubbles, alright boys?", Pierre pointed the spoon, "so we just keep stirring the chocolate in now?", Louis wondered, "yes, carefully for a good while".

Despite their usual excitement and rush because they were just kids, the boys actually held up to the request and waited patiently until the bowl had cooled down from the fridge enough so they could roll up the balls, "mama usually makes different toppings, like coconut, and cocoa powder too", Pierre added, "so it's really up to you what you do with yours".

"Can we leave these ones for mama?", Alexandre asked, setting a small tupperware box on the side with some of his and his brother's creations, "yes, I'll put them in the fridge for when she gets back from work, I bet she'll love them".

.

"Come here", your husband whispered, seeing you finish rubbing the cream on your arms, "I want to talk to my little girl", he urged you, helping you sit on the bed so he could scoot down and face your bump. Because this was your third pregnancy, your bump was growing at a much faster pace, making it more prominent and, therefore, a place where you would usually find Pierre's hand whenever he was near you, and tonight was no different.

"Olá, meu amor", he began, "hoje deste um dia complicado à mãe, hm? Mas é um bom sinal, porque significa que estás a crescer e que estamos cada vez mais perto de te conhecer e de te ter nos nossos braços", he smiled, kissing your soft skin. Hello, my love (...) today you gave mama a hard day, hm? Bur that's a good sign, it means you're growing and that we are closer to meeting you and to have you in our arms

"I'll never get over you speaking my mother tongue", you brushed your husband's hair by running your fingers through, "you speak mine, and I have to know, too. I mean, what if one day you and the kids gang up on me?".

[pursuitseternal]

Chapter 2: Jealousy, Lust, and Satsifaction in “A Night with the Ascendant:”

Ascendant Astarion x Spawn (Lumina) | E | 7.3 K of galas and smut

Summary: a tenday in his bed, a tenday bereft of his company in his absence, Lumina’s own plotting takes shape. With the perfect opportunity at hand, she tries to get under the Vampire Ascendant’s skin and steal his attention. Little does she know just how much she already has of it…

CW:(Spawn) harem dynamics, jealousy, manipulation, obsession, praise and dirty talk, A!Astarion being over the top possessive and sexy, possessive marking smut, suspicious drinks (magic, not noncon, I promise), “you’re special”

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

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Blessed and blissed out for a tenday, that was Lumina’s life of late. Days spent feeding on the fresh kills of venison and cow brought to her cell by his armored guards, days spent sleeping off the burning ache he caused each and every night. There was no part of her little body he hadn’t sought pleasure from, no hole left unfucked, even those too tight to let him in without ample coaxing and touch and praise.

There was no need for compelling, those dark tendrils of his powers all but mute in her mind. Oh, she was his—obedient and pliant and eager. And she had been rewarded every night for such a stellar performance. He only used that connection as her master to summon her from her room. And each time, that Tiefling consort glared holes in the back of her head as she swayed her hips up the stairs.

Morana… she hadn’t been vicious. But she certainly wasn’t nice. She had seen this pattern a hundred times, some with Spawn that had since met their end. The obsession, the allure, the unbreakable infatuation from the newly born until he tired of them.

Tired of them all.

It was only a matter of time, she had mocked today… and then he would tire of those flexible and firm legs of her, of her human flesh and bright hair. He would tire of lending her books as payment for her unimaginative pleasure, the first consort had sneered.

But Lumina let it roll off her shoulders, washing it away in the baths she took each day now. A luxury and necessity to finally clean off all the dried stick of his cum from almost every crack and crevice of her body. He had sent her oils and soaps that smelled of him… it was addictive. Enticing. Every day, she could smell him in her nose, his sweat and perfume, his cum and musk. Made her mouth water for the chance to let her prove her ever growing affections for him.

Affections… she knew better than to set her heart on anyone. Yet, she couldn’t fight that gnawing of her gut watching time pass, reading her books. It should be about now… any moment and his power should tingle up her spine, the wave of his call for her like breath down her neck…

But it never came. She dug her nails into her thigh, where her flesh slipped from beneath the high dart of a slit in her skirt.

No.

Instead, she heard another gate unlock, another door swing with a creak on its hinges. Bolting from her bed, she had to see who he had chosen in her stead. Through her gilded bars, she watched that swishing dark blue tail of Morana wave at her. A flash of dark crimson in her dark eyes, and the Tiefling threw her a wicked, victorious smirk before treading up those stone stairs.

“Gods dammit,” Lumina cursed, her undead skin flushing hot with jealousy and rage. She wailed that book toward her bed, loving the distraction of how it smacked into the wall before falling unceremoniously into her bed. Pinpricks stung her eyes, tongue dry in her mouth. She curled into the corner of her bed, knees hugged into her chest.

Making her feel so empty, in her body and her heart.

She stayed like that, tears burning as they seeped out hot and angry, her face hidden in her hands. Her nails clawing into her cheeks, her neck, her knees, wherever just so she could feel physical pain to lessen the ache of envy in her gut.

It wasn’t terribly long, she thought, before that telltale step of feet on the stairs meant someone returned. She couldn’t look, didn’t want to see a flush on Morana’s dark cheeks or smell his spend on her skin. But there she was, stopped in front of her cell, her skirt parted around that slit to barely show the inside of her thigh.

His scent caught her nose, and she wanted to hurl. Even as her stomach gnawed empty. She carried his scent.

“Hmmm, little Lumina, you poor thing. You’ll learn,” Morana tutted her tongue, swaying on her legs enough to let the slick sound between them reach her ears. “He sends his warmest regards, however, but he will be away for a tenday now… And he wanted me to begin overseeing the preparation for his return, when we will be joined by several of his.. guests. He will need his best consorts and concubines ready to… entertain them all.”

“I believe I understand full well,” Lumina replied with a flat tone, ignoring the visions of clawing her fingers around that infernal dark neck.

“Lord Astarion wanted me to give you a little something,” those dark red eyes gleamed, her bluish lips smirking to reveal her own set of fangs. She ran her fingers up her thigh, gathering still-wet slick from her dark blue skin. Holding them out, she crooked her other fingers at the little blonde wretch who had lost her heart.

It was too easy, watching that little human tremble and sniff as she could scent his cum on her fingertips. “Open, he said to give you one last taste of him before he had to leave. A shame he couldn’t bid you farewell himself, he said, but he wanted some of the vintage he has savored the longest before his journey, me of course.”

Lumina gritted her teeth, it smelled so good, he smelled so good. She wanted it, licking her lips as she came closer and closer. It happened so close, so involuntarily, the way she licked those fingers clean with one hard suck.

“Oh, I can start to see why he’s liked you for so many nights…” Morana’s deep voice sliced through her flittering fantasy. “You’ll be part of this soirée, but you’ll have such a small role, fucked over some table by some rich, plump Patriar while I entertain his Lordship from the comfort of his throne as he barely glances at you from across the room…”

Lumina hissed, fangs bared before she turned and skulked back to her bed.

Morana flashed a smile, heading back to her room to clean herself. But the second her back turned on the little welp, she scowled. She had managed to obey… in her own way around his compelling magic. She slipped off her gown, conjuring and warming water in her bath in an instant with her limited magic. Letting the heat thaw that bitter shard in her soul at what had happened.

It shouldn’t have ended this way, not with how it had begun just like old times. His pride on his face as he sipped his last glass of wine, waiting for his carriage to be readied. He had patted his lap, a seat she had so silkenly sidled up to take. Her hand teasing him through that crushed velvet of his breeches. Only to find him soft and unaroused. She pouted, tracing her fingers over its tip, her tail swishing before wrapping itself nicely around his strong leg.

She watched him bristle at its pressure, a chilled smirk on his lips as he spoke about his trip, his return.

His instructions were clear and concise, his expectations for his return were the usual… and then he kissed her. Biting into her neck as she always offered…. Only to have him suck her blood and spit it across the floor the next moment.

It was her mistake next that turned the tide, her little sultry quip about how he must have lost a taste for the spice of Tiefling, preferring that bland milk of a human he had been tasting so often of late…

Morana sank deeper into the water… She shouldn’t have provoked him, shouldn’t have opened her mouth for anything but his cock.

No, instead she had to be insolent and find herself on her knees between his own, working his half-softened dick as he had to close his eyes and clutch the arms of his chair. Every trick she knew and he loved failed. Every suck and stroke of her mouth, every tug and grab of his balls, every push of her finger even into his ass… none of it made him hard as long as he stared at her or grabbed her black and arching horns.

No, he had to shut his eyes and grit his teeth, refraining from touching her anywhere to make him fully erect. It took her standing before him, his eyes still closed, as they pleasured themselves for him to finally have the right… enticement, he had said.

It took the wet and beating sounds of their own touching for him to finally come, coating her mound and thighs in his seed. And only then did she think she heard him sigh that most hated name from his lips. Lumina.

Once he opened his eyes, his gaze glinted with unsatisfied hunger and scorn. Looking her up and down, he sneered to hear the carriage rumbling up the drive. His voice had been like ice, exacting and sharp, ordering her to take his precious seed and make his Little Light suck it from her fingers. So at the very least she could have one last taste of him before he left… since his carriage was ready and waiting.

Lord Astarion had ordered her back to the cellars with a brush of his mind, one last reminder that she should not fail him again, that Morana had other duties to perform, an evening’s work of entertainment to flawlessly execute if she wished to be spared his wrath.

Perhaps his wrath would be better than his neglect, his loss of affection. But Morana rolled her shoulders and sank into the waters up to her horns. She had nothing but time.

But then again, so did they all.

A tenday was nothing for an immortal, but for Lumina, having to wander around the palace to avoid that arrogant Tiefling, not to mention the others, time dragged at a glacial pace. She kept herself to the gardens and her room when they were allowed to wander the Palace at night in his absence, but what she really wanted was him.

She would creep to the door of his rooms, his study, just to smell him. It was enough to ground her until she reached for her last book from him, turning back to page one to begin reading it all over again. This night, she fell asleep with her nose pressed into the pages, dreaming she could smell him, her master, his skin under her touch, his taste of salt and bitter and musk on her tongue… if only she could awaken at his side again, feel his fingers part her thighs again…

But instead it was Morana’s deep laughter that peeled into her rooms from the hall. “Time to perform, Little Light. The Master arrives tonight, so you’d best prepare yourself for his guests.” Every word panged her with hope and despair in equal measure.

Her wardrobe swung open under her shaking hand, a few deep cut, extravagant gowns waiting to be chosen. Her pale fingers settled on one, thin and black, one that would make her skin glow like pearls and her hair the deep lively golden of straw. Touch dancing over the gossamer and silks, she smiled, a plan to make herself simply irresistible forming in her lust-drunk mind. He would regret leaving her, if it was the last thing he lived to regret.

Once the doors were opened, the handful of consorts left to wander up to the hall, Lumina gave one last smoothing of her raven black skirt. And she smiled. Dressed for seduction. Dressed for revenge.

She filed in line, following in Morana’s wake and the handful of the rest of the spawn. Drawing short of the Ballroom’s grand door, Morana held up her hand. “The Master will want us to mingle, to entertain and sparkle and delight. We may feed from any of the guests, so long as they ask. Do not overindulge, do not divulge any of the Master’s secrets or habits, do not fraternize with the guests, or you will be punished. And remember, he is watching. He is always watching.”

Lumina locked eyes with the Tiefling the moment she looked her way. All her adamantine hardness steeled her over. She was ready. Whatever was to come. It wouldn’t be worse than her life before, she knew that much. Even if it was just the internal pleasure she would get from making him watch her perform for someone else…. She would make him pay.

But the second the doors opened for them to slip inside… she lost her breath. He was… stunning. Crimson gaze cut through the crowd, half-lidded and scanning each one of his spawn as they stepped in on preternatural silent feet. He reclined in that grand chair at the end of the ballroom, the likes of which she had never seen, wrought iron and wine red, winged and imposing. But not enough to take the eye off its occupant. Not when he was dressed so elegantly in gold stitching and jewels in his own midnight black tunic and trousers. Not when his pale face leered with distant promises of pleasure on his sharp features, his eyes ringed with kohl and ears bejeweled with shining hoops of purest gold. Those long, elegant fingers that had ruined her for all others’ touch teased around the edge of his goblet, swirling it lazily as he separated his crossed legs.

Letting them spread wide, as wide as that massive chair.

The second his eyes moved from the spawn before her to rest on her face, she felt that swirling tendril of his power in her mind. A caress, a beckoning, but not one that compelled her to his presence. She was sure for a moment she felt his touch raking her body from the inside of her mind but for as sudden as it possessed her, it was just as fleeting and gone. Then his eyes moved on to the next spawn behind her, and those sweet tendrils of desire dissipated.

Lumina let her breath go, her lungs burned even though she didn’t need the air anymore. It was more the burning of her cheeks as his eyes left her face. The fire of her need to prove herself. It was a good start at the very least, she smiled, wide and brilliant enough for her fangs to catch the candelabra light. Shoulders back, hips sauntering, breasts on full display, she wasn’t surprised as the mass of slightly tipsy Patriars approached the circle of spawn. Nor was she surprised when many of them sought her hand to kiss in greeting.

From the corner of her eye, she watched Morana sway her way up the ballroom towards their Master, bending to her knees before him, tail twitching from the slit of her sparkling sapphire gown. She waited at his feet the perfect paragon of obedience, but his chest only rose and fell faster, and she was sure if she looked, his eyes would be on her. Not the Tiefling at his feet. She gave a hearty, musical laugh at some comment about how she glowed once they all learned her name. Her circle of suitors. She could practically hear the metal in his hand bending as he gripped his goblet tighter.

For her, she may as well have been in a nearly empty room. The rest of the spawn had dispersed, already sequestered into corners or window casements for their guests' pleasures or to feed. She smelled blood in the air. Perhaps at the worst, she could drink tonight right from a vein.

At least the music was merry, and Lumina could sway to its beat as she crossed to the table of refreshments. The chatter of all the male guests faded from her ear the moment she heard heavy, measured steps approach from behind her.

“You’ll find the red to be to your liking, Little Light…”

She chuckled, reaching for the silver decanter of the wine he mentioned. “Thank you my lord, for your suggestion…” Throwing an easy smile over her shoulder, she caught a glimpse of just how close Astarion hovered behind her. Careful not to touch. Closer enough for his breath to wash down the deep v cut of her back. “You are always so… attentive… to my needs.”

He gave a little grunt of approval, taking the empty chalice from her cool hand. Filling it himself with the decanter, he raised it first to his lips. She held her breath, those wine-red eyes of his never leaving her face. Even as he swallowed loudly, she hid the little shudder that ran through her body and straight to her sex. “You had better ready yourself for the night to come… who knows whose blood you may consume or whose cock will end up buried inside you sweet slickness, my Light…” He handed her the half-drunk cup, scanning her every expression as she took it from his hands.

As she let her cool digits sweep tenderly over his in the process.

“If I’m lucky,” she flashed him that innocent and taunting smile in reply, “both will fill my belly before the night is through.” Head tilted, gaze lowered, she swept her skits to one side in a deferential curtsy, one that slid the slit of her skirt full up her thigh. Giving him a peak of the nothingness she wore beneath. Rising back before him, she met those half-lidded crimson eyes with a confident, impertinent smile. “I hope you enjoyed your journeys, my lord. It was ever so… uneventful without you. Peaceful, even.”

Before she could raise that cup to take the slightest fraction of a sip, his hand reached to close around her throat. Leaning in, he was all fangs and hot breath and hissing voice as he rasped against her lips. “Do not forget your places my sweet, precious, Little Light. I am not here for your peace,” he snarled. A ravenous, claiming, biting kiss consumed her lips and made her twitch in surprise and pain before he released her with the smallest of shoves. “You, Lumina, are here for my pleasure. And tonight, I get to decide just what that may entail and with whom you may seek it.”

And just as swiftly as he had appeared behind her, he quickly turned and made his way back through the crowds. Lost in the sea of bodies.

She stood trembling for a moment, lost herself somewhere between the victory of antagonizing him as he had her for a tenday, and the defeat of feeling his wrath. Of having him leave her body after barely touching her. Setting her cup back down on the table, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to take a drink without spilling it from how much her hand shook.

And then she felt a tug on her mind, an order from him to move to the library to meet her guest for the night.

Lumina grimaced, watching as all of the other spawn yet accounted for in the shadows began to move through the room, their patrons for pleasuring assigned too. Her head swam, even as she grit her teeth and locked her stare with Morana. That fucking Tiefling, standing at the side of his empty chair, tail twitching languorously, lips sipping from an even more elegant chalice than the one she had set aside.

Her feet moved of their own will, out the door and down the halls that brimmed with flickering light. Licking her lips, she set her heart on at least draining whatever plump patron was behind the thick oaken doors before her. She kept her gaze on her pale hands, steadying them as she turned to shut the door, her back to the interior of the room.

The scent of books, the crackle of fire in the grate, the distant whine of the music from the ballroom down the hall… it would be positively romantic, picturesque even, if only it wouldn’t be some unknown wealthy patron waiting behind her back. If only…

“Why the hesitation, my Little Light? Not in haste to please your Master?”

“M-Master?” Lumina spun on her heel, almost tangled in her slitted skirts to see him. Untroubled, lazy, and amused, he leaned against the rounded arm of the chaise longue. The perfect picture of the Sunwalking Regent—the scarlet of the chair was striking under the sable of his clothing, the firelight catching the jewels in his tunic, making his crimson eyes illuminated.

Licking his lips, she felt those tendrils tickle down her spine before releasing her. “Like I said… you were made for my pleasure, and you are mine to command, mine to decide with whom you will find your own pleasure.”

She had drawn so near, he grabbed into her skirts, inserting his fingers up her thigh already.

“And you will only be mine now…”

His touch was lightning itself, jolts of bliss wracking her as he slipped those two skilled fingers right for her sex.

Lumina bucked, but he only gave her a few shallow strokes before he pulled out. Swallowing her hiss, biting her lip, she couldn’t have felt more desired.

“Now, on your knees darling….” his voice rumbled as his hands pulled her down to the thick carpet, plush, elegant and bloodied in color. The same shade of his eyes as they glowed.

“Yes, my Master,” she breathed, obeying in an instant.

“Those eyes of yours glimmer with surprise, my Light,” he growled as he cupped her chin and dragged her closer until there was no space left between their bodies. “Didn’t think I would pick you, did you?”

“No,” she whispered, keeping her eyes on his belly, on the way the jewels sparkled with his every ragged breath.

“You are wise to be honest with me, little spawn. So I will be honest in return. I didn’t think so either,” he jerked her chin, making those eyes meet his, making her lips part in shock and a hint of pain. “It’s not what’s done on these nights, you know. It’s not how it has been for over a century…. But for you, Little Light, nothing is as it has been.” Eyes narrowed, his gaze flicked to her neck as he twisted her head in his grasp. “I am equally surprised.”

Lumina gave some half-hearted start to a reply, one he just swallowed with a kiss at any rate. Demanding, his kiss consumed her—all tongue down her throat to taste her in place of his fangs to devour her this time. “Trust me,” his voice like gravel in his mouth, “I was far from happy about it. You’ve really caused turmoil in my little kingdom. So much so, I’ve broken all my own rules just for you.” His brows furrowed, irritation coloring his voice. “I reject my oldest plaything for you, you unman me so much, I couldn’t even get hard in her presence before my departure…” He looked at her wide eyes, the memory obviously fresh yet in her mind. “I thought of you as I pleasured myself. I was angered by the hold you have on me, irritated that you have so much control over me, my Little Light. And yet…”

He ached. He burned. He pulled her dress right off her shoulders, the gossamer, light as spider silk, giving way with such ease. Snatching her hands, he slammed them on his chest, scratching them on the clasps of his ornate jacket. “Hurry,” he snarled into his kiss, giving that pouting bottom lip and bite just for good measure. “I know you have been burning up for me, Lumina, in my absence. I could feel it, my eager, ambitious, little spawn.”

A sigh passed her lips, her body betraying any lingering vestige of anger as it melted into him. Clasp by clasp, button by button she stripped him quickly and deliberately. While he made rough, tearing work of her dress, leaving it in shambles to puddle around her knees.

“Blazing for you, my Master,” she moaned into his kiss, his hands lifting her little frame by her waist. Nails dug into her flesh, making her clamber into his lap, making her legs wrap around his hips until her folds stretched and soaked him. It was a matter of moments for him to free his cock and bury it inside her again. A matter of bites and blood and scratching and bucking until she rode every vicious thrust he made into her.

She was a vision, the same he had kept in his mind all those days away. The firelight caught in the golden of her hair, her eyes glimmering as they fluttered open and shut in her own growing bliss. Her pale fresh stretched for him, so tight and wet instantly, her rounded hips bucking with smooth grace, her breasts swinging and swaying as she let him have her.

So soon, she unraveled, walls clutching him in waves, golden hair spilled back as she arched and twitched in orgasm on his thighs. Warm hands wrapped her hair around his fist, pulling her back hard enough to make her whimper. Fangs raked their icy points down her neck, the cold brush making her blistering orgasm flame somehow higher. “Please,” she moaned. “Please bite me…”

“Of course,” he nipped at her skin with smooth blunted edged teeth first. “You are mine after all, to do with as I wish.” Hard and colder than she remembered it, he sliced into her neck, the sound of skin giving way like the piercing of an apple’s flesh. She hissed and writhed, her own fangs bared as the pain swelled over her pleasure.

The moment his mouth flooded with her blood, he shoved himself to the hilt over and over again, letting his seed spill inside, letting her milk his every twitching spurt. Mouth filling even as he emptied himself.

Glorious. More than he had longed for in his absence.

He had stilled inside her, lips sucking and drinking down her blood. But that cock pulsed with each swallow, pushing at the end of her channel with how he just held her in his lap. The warm pad of his tongue swirled over those wounds, swipe and swipe licking her clean until it ceased to flow. “Such a good… delicious…” he licked again, “little spawn you are…”

Through her hazy vision, she smiled at him, the sight of her blood on his chin making her stomach gnaw and growl with her own hunger. A playful cock of his head, his crimson eyes scanned her in the flickering light, one hand pushing on her belly until it rumbled against his touch.

Until she could feel him pressed against her stomach from the inside and the outside. “I know you’re hungry, my pet,” he consoled her, that other set of skilled fingers teasing in her hair so softly, straying through the fluttering loose ends at her temple. “If only there was something I could offer you to… sate your hunger, Little Light…”

“Is there?” she squirmed on his lap, the slick between them still sticky with every movement.

A single brow arched, his expression one of inscrutability and lust. “There are many things I could offer you….” he purred. “I thought about it many a time when I was away.” His lips brushed her ear, his hands still lazily tracing over the pinpricked skin of her belly and teasing through her hair.

Lumina practically curled into his chest, the sweetest of simpers on lips. Glowing. She was glowing at him. Not a more aptly named being in all Faerûn, he decided right then and there. “You did?” she bubbled over, fangs showing in her smile.

“Mmm,” he hummed, another little shift inside her walls just for emphasis. “Many a time. And in all sorts of fantastic positions, the likes of which you have never known and will never try with another being… so long as you walk in this realm.” She would be blushing, he was sure, if she had any living blood in her right now. That would be… quite the sight. Her cheeks and lips and nipples and cunt rosy from blood and his constant stimulation. Astarion licked his lips just at the mere passing thought. “That’s what you want, isn’t it?” his voice rumbled as he asked. “To be mine… forever?”

“Is that not already what you have made me, Master?” she purred her reply. “For I am so very grateful you did.” She turned her face to hide her bashful grin against her shoulder. An error he corrected with a sweep of his hand back around her chin. “Not many go from mortal to undying, from raw hands and rags to swollen lips and fine gowns.” Her eyes darted to the side, hiding the flicker of ghosts behind that bright gaze. “Not many know what makes being a… spawn… better than being someone’s slave.”

He paused, scanning her face—so earnest, so eager. It made something inside his heart… hurt again. Something that hadn’t for almost two centuries. Not since... He shook his head.

“No need for anything like that from the past now,” he flashed her that sultry smirk. “I ask you of your future, one where I might provide for your every hunger, one where I would expect you to do the same for me, my Light.” He shifted her on his thighs, a hand absently stroking into those golden locks. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” Mouth brushed hers, his lips teased over her own as he lowered his voice into a rasp. “I am what you want, aren’t I?”

“More than anything,” she sighed. A hand stroked against his cheek, trying to pull him into her kiss. “Being apart from you was torture, my master.”

“More torture than the kind you enjoy at my fingertips, little spawn?” he slipped his hand between her thighs, catching that hardened nub of hers where it strained.

Lumina sighed, leaning away to allow him a little more room, booking her hands behind his neck as she arched in pleasure. His smirk at her reaction was feral, wicked, and possessive. But just as he could feel her reawaken for more, he slipped his touch away, pushing her off his lap, off his slightly softened cock. “Allow me to offer you amends, then, for the torture you had to endure to be parted from my side, my darling.” He swept his arm to the side, the columns of bookcases darkened the edges of the room, embossed titles and oiled leather spines glimmered through the shadows. “My library is yours. Choose as many as you like, come when you wish…”

He stood with a grunt, managing to lace his breeches back up absentmindedly as he watched her face melt into one of awe and wonder and adoration for him.

Making something in his chest grow painfully hard.

Ignoring that sensation, he reached for the pewter chalice on the side table before crossing over to where she had begun to peruse his collection.

Her nostrils flared at the scent. “For me?” She took the chalice in her hands, the metal still warm from the fresh source of the contents within. “A little blood to keep me going for you, is that right, Master?”

“Let’s just say,” he smiled, lifting her face, the pads of his fingers beneath her chin, “a little something to sweeten the deal. A little something to seal your admission that you wish to be mine for all time, Lumina.”

She doesn’t think twice before she raises the cup to her lips, but the instant it coats her tongue, she knows something is… different. It’s rich in flavor, strange and familiar in her mouth all at once. “This is still warm, my Master?”

“Indeed,” he leaned against the mantle, lazily watching her every move. “Warm, freshly spilled, living, thinking blood,” he paused, reaching for her as if he could touch her at this distance, “only for you, my Little Light.”

Lumina dared another mouthful, its power already making her body shake. Making her feel more alive than ever before. It felt so very good. Too good perhaps. She didn’t even give a second thought to its source, to whatever poor guest maybe was bled or left to die for her meal. It was.. addictive the way it made her feel. It made her nerves tingle, her face flush hot. It made her hands warm, her sex hot and dripping and clenching as she locked eyes with him from across the room.

Her hands shook as she tried to set the chalice down on its stem. The cup toppled over with her clumsiness, but she had drained every drop of that sweet, powerful elixir.

“Not to your taste, my love?” he purred, his hips cocking as her body shook, as she took small steps closer. Her eyes were dilated wide, her skin flushed and alive. He could smell her arousal, hear her heart pumping slightly harder. “I was so hoping you would say it’s the best you’ve ever had, my darling.”

Her nostrils flared as she crept closer. That blood was in her veins, the magic already taking hold, he could see it. And it made him smile.

“It’s nice to see you indulge,” he said, pulling her naked form against him the moment she was within reach. “How do you feel? Your first thinking blood, hmm?”

“I… feel…” she whispered, leaning into his body, shivering as her skin brushed against his smooth chest.

She hesitated as she scanned his face. “Do you feel alive?” He smirked, rubbing his hand across her cheek and into her shining golden hair. “Do you feel strong… happy?”

“Yes,” she sighed, her eyes locked into his face. Looking for answers to unspoken questions. “But I feel so much more than that. I can’t… tell you what.”

He cradled her against him, hands running over her body with a bit of tenderness and a bit of command. “Shh shh,” he hushed in her ear. “Perhaps the blood I harvested for you was a little strong. You deserve the best, my Light, only the strongest, most potent, most powerful blood will do for my… mistress.”

That power coursed in her veins, every sense sharpened with its vigor. Looking into his face, she would see every twitch of his brows, every flicker of his eyes on her own countenance. “Your mistress?” she hesitated to let the words from her lips as if she feared they were a lie.

His lip twisted to one side, an amused smirk as she licked her lips clean still. “Oh yes,” he hummed, pulling her across the room. A single door slide opened as he approached, hidden amongst the heavy-laden shelves. The darkness swallowed them as she followed him inside. His scent was heavy in the air as he called flames to light the candlesticks within. The chamber within was elegant and luxurious, a smattering of bright colors and pastels, on the walls, the curtains, the bedspread.

He stopped at the bedside, hands at her lower back to pull her flush against him. “You will be here, my Light.” He nodded his back towards the open door, “One door to allow you into my cherished library at your smallest whim….” A flourish of his hand, and one glowing Mage Hand appeared across the room, opening another broad door on the opposite side. “And another door to my chambers…” his brows furrowed into that look of possessive hunger and seduction, his voice dripping that warm and velvety promise of pleasure. “Since you will be in my bed every night henceforth…” Astarion gripped her ass hard in his palms, letting his nails dig into her soft and supple flesh. “Or I in yours, if you’ll have me.”

Something in her full belly swirled at his words, his invitation didn’t feel like one of his commands… there was no pull of his magic, no tendrils tickling her will. It was a true offer, a genuine invitation to let him into her bed and between her thighs.

She stared into that sultry smirking face, the light dancing off his sharp features, his eyes extra piercing with those lines of kohl making them captivating, intense. She shivered under that stare. He clearly had this all planned, prepared well in advance, every detail ready for her approval and admiration. And she loved it.

She turned to pull herself against his body, his skin so hot against her belly, his scent so delicious and familiar as she took a deep breath. “I’m always willing to have you, my master,” she sighed, blushing with hot cheeks for once as she met his ravenous gaze. “I’ll have you right now again, and again if you wish.”

“There is nothing… I’d like more,” he sighed, his mouth descending sharply. His kiss is all power and passion, his body pushed up against her bare skin until she was nearly tumbling into her new bed. Hers. It was all hers. As he pushed her down, as he pulled his legs free from his trousers and sank himself inside her again beneath him, he finally felt a burst of heat in his chest.

He had thought of nothing the last tenday apart from having her again, from giving her a place at his side where she couldn’t stray too far. He wanted nothing more than his cock buried in her, her hair wrapped around his hand or beneath his face as he slept, he wanted her with him always now. No other concubine would do.

She had ruined him. And so, he plotted to reward her with all this… the thought was almost too much, his victory at making her his alone.

This little girl from the little shop, pulled from the gutter by his hand to be his saving Light. He would give her everything, and he would take her everything from her. An equal exchange.

Something about her simmered beneath the surface since he had first caught a glimpse of her in that rank old shop, the keeper’s only piece of chattel worth offering for his debts. His chest had been tight, his throat had burned to see her being used and neglected. He would do so much better for her.

And now, as she bucked to his every thrust, hands clasped around his beck and eyes fluttered shut as she came so flawless on his cock, he had finally given her the value of her true worth.

She was his Light, his diamond in the rough. And now she was his forever. That blood in her body was already working its magic. Her flesh was warm, her power increased ten fold, not that she would know it… Soon she would do so much more than feel warm to the touch, but she would figure that out in due time.

A few final, erratic snaps of his hips, and he filled her, pulse after pulse as he groaned. Eyes locked on her face, he watched her lips tremble to feel him come so hard just for her. Breathless, he kept himself up on his arms, a few lingering drags in her channel for extra pleasure. “Perfect. You are perfect every time,” he breathed, leaning down just enough to catch those pretty pink lips in a kiss. “And you’ll be perfect forever.”

Slowly he lowered himself to crusch her little body into the bed. “It’s all I could do to think of you. When I wasn’t meeting with boring nobles, I would dream of your sweet lips and your even sweeter cunt.”

“I thought of you too,” she admitted so quietly. “I would sneak to visit the halls to your rooms, just to catch your scent…”

“Tch,” he teased, a dark arch to his brow, “naughty for a spawn… but it was your well-deserved right at my mistress.”

“You’re serious about all this… my master?” she barely spoke, eyes darting around her new room, how fine it was, how impressive it was.

“Do you doubt my sincerity?” He looked at her exacting and yet somehow playful. Mischievous perhaps. “Doubt my devotion to you?”

She smiled, again that luminous grin that made his heart ache. “I did, yes, in your absence, my lord. Your other spawn…”

“You’ll never have to worry about them again,” he interjected. “Not one of them will harm you,” his mouth turned in a sadistic, threatening smirk. “And godsforbid one of them so much as insults you, my mistress. They will wish…”

She put her hand on his mouth. “No one needs to die or be punished because of me, my lo… lord.”

His brow arched, curious, as her hand left his lips, revealing his smirk. “Your…? It seems there was more you wished to say.” His fingers softly grabbed her chin to open those pouting lips of hers. “Don’t make me pry the word from your tongue…”

“My love,” she blushed as she said. “I… I love you,” she paused and held her breath.

The look of pure contentment on his face made him appear… youthful, innocent, as if he hadn’t just been threatening to kill a spawn for insult it threat. “Do you know happy that makes me? To hear my feelings returned?” his voice low, pressed in his throat.

“You.. love me too?”

“Of course I do,” he smiled wider. “Why else would I bring you as mine tonight, give you such powerful, living blood and gift you these rooms as my mistress?” Those long, skilled fingers teased through her golden hair, his thumb dancing across her cheek. Her skin warm and flushed and looking alive with that fresh and potent blood in her body.

She giggled, giddy beneath him. “It seems far too good for me, my love.” She let the name free from her lips this time. Those lips were too much a temptation for him not to devour again. “Nothing is too good for you now that you are mine alone, mine forever, my Little Light.”

His… The possessiveness made her purr, curled in his arms, warmed and cared for. For once in her life.

“You’ll let me show you my affection for you once more, won’t you?” he rasped into her ear, cock still hard and shoved deep within her.

A cheeky smile on her lip, she rolled him on his back. It was so easy… in the morning she would realize it had been too easy. But for now, she was drunk on the sight of him under her, his tousled hair and rakish smirk as she began to grind. “More than willing to have you show me, only this time, allow me… my love.”

When she finally stirred, every limb ached, her legs dried and sticky. Her arm reached beside her, the softest sheets cocooning her in luxury. Slowly, the night returned to her… the rigorous fucking, the new chambers, his mistress, his chosen… his love. Her nerves tingled as she stirred. Opening her eyes, these new rooms were bathed in light.

Light.

Not from candles or fireplaces or torches. Daylight. The kind she had been barred from, the dangerous burn you to nothing kind of light.

But now, warm beams cut through the air, the particles of dust dancing merrily in their shafts. She reached a hand into the closest beam. It warmed her skin, bathing her in light she thought she would never see again.

The moment of euphoria and hope darkened even as she sat up. Alone in her new rooms, she could hear movement from his chambers through their connecting door. Her heart sank and fluttered, her mind racing.

What had he done to her…

[lovekz]

the rizzler

syn : ran brings his brother to get his hair done. big mistake

warnings : horrible rizz, ran is rindou’s #1 hater, could be seen as chubby reader, ran and rindou act like the true brothers they are, cringey ig

~

“rin!” ran called loudly, dashing up the stairs to his brother’s room.

rindou was in his room with his headphones on, playing his video game with his brand new controller.

he often tunes ran out from his shenanigans because he just can’t stand him sometimes.

also because ran broke his last one by body slamming him into the floor one night.

so ran does the only thing he could to to gain his little brother’s attention.

jump on him and throw all his weight into him.

“ran go away!” rindou groaned, trying to push the elder off him.

but of course, ran is heavier despite his lanky body.

ran giggles, resting more of his weight on top of him with a grin.

rindou shoves him off successfully after giving him a purple nurple, resuming his game.

ran plucks one of the headphones out of his ear just so rindou could hear him.

“I have a hair appointment at 7 and I don’t wanna go alone.” ran sighed, draping himself over the end of rindous bed frame.

ran’s hair grew longer than he could handle by himself, so he began going to the hair salon to get it done.

rindou suggested he cut it, but ran complained that ‘he wasn’t ready to make new memories’

ran doesn’t know Rindou will cut it himself before he turns 25.

“so ask kakucho or mitsuya.” rindou grumbled, squinting his eyes to focus.

ran glared at his brother, before letting out a loud and obnoxious sigh.

“if only I had a brother to go spend time with me while I get my hair done.” ran exclaimed, looking at rindou with a frown.

and ran doesn’t miss the little ‘if only’ that leaves his brother’s mouth as he plays the game.

so he had no choice.

“wow rin! thanks for saying you’ll come! be ready by 6:30 sharp!” ran exclaimed, dashing out the room before rindou could refuse.

-

ran drags his brother into the shop, a big grin on his face.

rindou is wearing wide leg grey sweats and his black hoodie, a disappointed scowl on his face.

he could’ve been at home upping his character level but no.

ran wanted to be annoying today.

“I’m here with a special guest!” ran called out, walking to the back of the room.

there’s shuffling when they get to the seats, and someone pops up from the back door.

“finally! your 10 minutes late ran.” you complained, fixing your apron.

rindou looked up at the feminine voice, locking eyes with you.

you were gorgeous.

the way you stood, your eyes, your teasing smile, and your nose fit just right.

god knew what he was doing when he created you.

“yeah, my brother’s a ipad kid. said he couldn’t come without a sandwich and his ipad.” ran chuckled, nudging him.

you laugh at ran’s little joke, though it wasn’t that funny.

but rindou would replay that joke again and again just to hear your breath taking laugh.

he’s gotta get your number by the end of the night.

“well hi. I’m ran’s stylist. you must be rindou?” you introduced yourself, holding your hand out.

ran has spoken about him? he knows it probably isn’t good, but he’ll shoot his goddamn shot.

he repeats your name slowly in his head, flashing you a smile.

“that’s me. nice to meet you, I love your name. I got you a sandwich as an apology for being late.” rindou replies, giving your hand a light squeeze.

you say a polite thank you and get started on ran’s hair, detangling before beginning to wash.

while you wash his hair, rindou watches from the side.

‘those must be heavy.’ rindou thought to himself, tilting his head.

he imagines you at home with some bad back pain, no help from a strong, flexible man with big strong hands.

“does your back hurt?” rindou questions before he can rethink it again.

you stay silent for a bit, thinking to yourself while you scrub Ran’s scalp.

“uhm.. no not really. I try not to bend too much when I comb through the hair.” you explain, completely oblivious.

rindou sees that you didn't understand or see what he was gesturing towards, so chuckles to himself.

ran understands what was happening, so he shoots rindou a look to tell him stop.

but he was the one that wanted rindou to come, so rindou was going to do whatever he wants.

“I didn’t mean that. I meant your breasts, not to be disrespectful.” rindou says politely, looking at you with doe eyes.

you laugh at that, and rindou’s heart flutters.

one more laugh and he might just have to use the bathroom for a bit.

“sometimes, after a hard day at my jobs.” you respond, not offended at all.

ran’s giving him that look again, and rindou ignores it.

he nods at you, stretching his limbs and leaning back into the seat.

“well I’m really good with my hands, you can let me know if you ever need a massage anywhere.” rindou winks.

ran puts his hand over his face, immediately wanting to send rindou home.

you roll your eyes playfully, and decide not to respond to him.

when you comb out ran’s hair and set him under the dryer with leave in conditioner, you begin eating the sandwich ran mentioned.

rindou kept shifting his eyes over to you, trying to ‘lure you in’ with his body language.

“something you have to say rindou?” you questioned, putting your sandwich down with a sigh.

rindou shakes his head, resting a arm on the armrest of the chair.

“all my pickup lines have been taken. how about you?” rindou asked, tilting his head.

you stifle a laugh, squeezing your eyes shut.

ran begins to play a voice line from spongebob.

“no rindou. I’m not. I'm very much single.” you reply, taking another bite of your sandwich.

he so wants you to moan his name right now.

but rindou doesn’t dare to ask you for that, he simply nods his head and takes a bite of his own sandwich.

he goes to speak, but you stand up and walk over to ran as the dryer dings loudly.

damn ran being annoying and an attention seeker.

ran watches as you walk over to him, lifting the lid off the dryer and gesturing over to the wash station.

you rinse out the conditioner quickly, and take him over to your station.

“how come you’re single?” Rindou questioned, getting closer and sitting in the seat beside ran.

you pause in your movements of combing Ran’s hair, thinking about it lightly.

for a second, you realize you pause so you continue to run the comb through his scalp.

rindou waits for your answer, watching as you contemplate on what to say to it.

“I like my peace. too much toxicity in men right now.” you shrugged, before turning on the blow dryer.

ran was grateful you did, because if he heard rindou say anything more he would have to beat him with his wet hair.

the dryer stays on for a few minutes to dry ran’s hair, before it shuts off all together.

you began combing again and greasing it a little bit.

“you like music?” rindou asks out of the blue, leaning back into the comfortable seat.

you nod shortly, getting your straightener comb and beginning to run it through his hair.

the comb makes a small buzzing noise, filling the silence easily.

“last night I made a playlist of all the hottest singles. sadly you weren’t there.” rindou sighed in annoyance, tossing his hands over his eyes.

you don’t respond, but a loud ‘thump’ resonates through the salon.

the buzzing stops, and rindou peaks his eye open.

ran was standing up out of the seat, glaring at his brother with the cape still around him.

you were snickering to yourself, facing away.

rindou glares back at ran, removing his hands from his face altogether.

“go wait in the car, you sack of shit.” ran said, completely annoyed with all his little brother’s pickup lines.

rindou scoffed and stood up, grabbing his things and beginning to walk to the door.

he didn’t wanna fight his brother in front of you, let alone in a hair salon that you work in.

rindou turned around to flash you a big smile.

“well honey, all my pick up lines are out. but I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow! dress nice!” rindou called, before dashing out of the salon before ran could throw the hairspray at him.

you giggled to yourself, kinda glad ran had came with his brother.

-

by time ran finished, rindou was slouched in the seat scrolling through his phone.

he was half asleep with the doors unlocked.

ran got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door to wake him up.

rindou barely flinched, looking over at his older brother with a scowl.

“what the fuck was that in there? since when were you into girls?” ran scoffed, starting the car.

“since forever? what the hell?” rindou replied, sitting up and getting offended immediately.

ran mocks him, before muttering something under his breath.

rindou flips him off, turning to look out of the window as he daydreams about you.

it doesn’t take long to get home, making rindou immediately hop out the car and make his way inside.

he goes upstairs, strips himself of his clothing, and gets right back onto the game.

he makes sure his door is locked so ran can’t barge in again and disturb him.

rindou just hopes ran doesn’t decide to break it down again.

in the middle of his game, rindou gets a text.

he looks down at his phone, squinting in confusion.

[10:47pm] unknown : still up for giving me that massage rin? my back is killing me [10:47pm] unknown : and I can’t do tmrw at 8. maybe breakfast at mine tmrw morning?

rindou’s eyes widened, as he stood up and dropped his brand new controller.

“I got the fucking girl!���

ran heard him from downstairs, immediately making him regret giving you rindou’s number.

[x-just-another-fanfic-writer-x]

Chapter 4

You started your week working late again, never good for a Monday. You’d spent three hours texting your boyfriend, trying to help him with yet another problem at his job. You didn’t get to your own work until well into the afternoon. You were lucky your employer was flexible, as long as you got the job done, no one cared how late you stayed. And apparently neither did Justin. You’d texted him hours earlier and told him to eat dinner without you. But apart from an emoji of pizza and a chicken, he hadn’t said anything since, despite the late hour. The tension from the previous week had long been brushed under the carpet - a fun day out at Thorpe Park would do that. You made sure he wore sun cream, and he screamed like a little bitch on the Saw ride. You smiled as you packed up your things, that was a good day out.

You finally clocked out of your job almost 12 hours after you arrived, the office was spookily dark now, the only staff member left was the lone security guard. You were dead on your feet, desperate to get home and relax before you started to get really tired. At least the commute home would be less stressful by now.

Except midway through, there was a signalling error. Again. You groaned as you sat on the deserted train, you really didn’t want to deal with this right now. It wasn’t that far walking from this stop you supposed. It would be cheaper than getting a cab for just a five minute drive. You debated with yourself for ten minutes before sucking it up and exiting the station. 

The next twenty minutes walking in the cold night air wasn’t pleasant. You tensed each time you walked past men, especially ones who were alone. Your eyes darted around the place checking for threats. And your nose began to run, and you didn’t have a bloody tissue.

The warmth of the apartment building was a welcome relief, both for its temperature and safety. You dragged your feet up the stairs, longing to finally go to bed. Your freezing hands fumbled around in your pockets for your key. But with a sick realistation, you couldn’t find it. You wracked your brain, struggling to recall where the hell you’d have put them. You had assumed they were in your pocket, where you usually left them. Then it hit you.

“Fuck’s sake,” you murmured, pinching the bridge of your nose. You put them on your desk .

You got out your phone and texted Justin. Why the man removed his ‘last active’ status, you’ll never know. You stared at the screen, waiting. When he didn't reply immediately, you called. It went straight to voicemail.

You cursed under your breath, and knocked on your door. Three gentle raps at first. 

Nothing. 

You sighed in frustration and tried again, a little louder this time. 

Still nothing. 

The third time you knocked as though you were a rude delivery guy, praying nobody else in the building heard. You waited, ear pressed against the door, and heard, guess what?

Nothing.

Finally you hit the door with one loud thump then slumped against it.  A few moments later, a different door creaked open from across the hall. You glanced up towards the noise. In the opening stood your neighbour, looking tall, dark and handsome as always.

“Everything okay?” Bucky asked, his voice hoarse. You felt your cheeks flush in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I left my keys back at the office, and my boyfriend can’t seem to hear me knocking,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” you said apologetically.

“I was still awake, doll,” Bucky said softly. 

“Oh,” you murmured. You were a little surprised at the pet name, it wasn’t common in the UK, but with his accent it sounded��� nice. 

A brief moment of silence passed as Bucky regarded you, his lips pursing. 

“You planning on standing there the rest of the night?”

“Got nowhere else to go, so…” you trailed off and let your eyes wander to the wall adjacent to him, even more embarrassed. You could have just gone back to the office to get your keys, though by the time you’d return, it would be well after 2 am. You could just keep banging on the door and waiting for Justin to emerge from his deep slumber. You could pick the-

“Do you wanna come inside?” Bucky offered, tearing you from your thoughts and taking you by surprise.

“Oh, no, I couldn’t impose,” you said, shaking your head.

“I can’t let you sit out here for the next 8 hours,” he replied matter-of-fact.

You were surprised once again by his chivalry, and looked at him mildly perplexed before nodding. “Okay, thank you,” you said with a small but genuine smile. Bucky nodded once, then stalked back into his apartment with you following behind.

You had assumed his place would look similar to your own, in basic layout at least, and you were proven right. But you weren’t expecting it to look quite so… bare. So un-lived in. He’d been here what, six weeks now? Seven?

"You’re out pretty late for a work night," he commented as you glanced around.

"Am I?" you replied absentmindedly. You hovered near the sofa, searching for any hint of Bucky’s personality in the living room.

"You’re normally home by nine,” he continued. That comment got your attention.

"You keeping tabs on me?" you teased with a small smirk, looking at him directly now. He stood across from you, leaning against his dining table, his hands in his pockets.

"I hear you,” he replied bluntly.

"Oh… Well I had some stuff to do and got behind on my work, so, had to stay late. Then the trains were fucked so I kind of like, walked some of it back," you shrugged. Bucky’s eyes widened as you finished your sentence.

"Couldn’t your boyfriend have got you? He has a car, right?" he said with disdain.

"No… I mean yeah, he has a car but no, I couldn’t ask him."

"Why not?" 

"It's complicated,” you said with another shrug. “Anyway I’m sorry, I'm keeping you up.”

"I'm not tired."

“Do you normally stay up past midnight?” 

Bucky didn’t answer, the simple question left hanging in the air. He may not be tired, but you were, and as if on queue you yawned. 

"Take the bed," he instructed, pushing off from the dining table.

You shook your head “No, I couldn’t."

"I'm not having you sleep on the couch."

"No seriously, you've already let me into your home, I'm not taking your bed too.”

"No-"

"If you want me in here I'm taking the couch," you said firmly, cutting him off. It had the desired effect, Bucky raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, fine. Let me know if you need anything."

You sighed and nodded, watching as he walked off into presumably his bedroom before finally sitting on the sofa. You typed out a long, angry text to your boyfriend. Telling him where you were, exactly why you were having to stay in your neighbours flat. Because he couldn’t bloody wake up to let you in and he let his bloody phone die and now you're having to bloody spend the night in the flat of the neighbour you barely know! You hit send. Then sent a bunch of angry emojis before slouching back on the sofa and glancing around the room once more.

You huffed, then sat upright to take your shoes off before standing, unable to resist the urge to snoop. No photographs, no nick nacks. Did Bucky even live here? It was worse than an IKEA showroom, at least they had fake photographs and fake clutter. A floorboard creaked loudly beneath your foot and you froze. You waited a moment, listening for any sounds of Bucky, then creeped back to the sofa to settle in for the night. You felt too awkward to ask for a blanket from the man, let alone even use his bathroom.

You sighed, and stared at the ceiling, silently seething at the whole situation yet feeling incredibly grateful for Bucky’s kindness. You weren’t sure how you were going to repay him, you hardly knew him, but you had to do something in the future. You wondered what sort of things the man liked, aside from apparently jogging and trips to the convenience store. 

You could get him a new water bottle? No, that would be a lame gift.

You could get him a gift card for Adidas? That might seem weird…

You could buy him some damn plants to make his place more homely? But he might be rubbish at looking after them and they could die.

A bottle of beer? Too basic.

A bottle of wine? Too risky.

A bottle of whisky? Too presumptuous. 

You groaned quietly. Why did you have to overthink so bloody much. You closed your eyes, hoping the answer would come to you in your sleep.

It felt like no time had passed when you woke up to your blaring alarm. Usually you wake to the sound of snoring, so the silence was disconcerting. As were the completely different surroundings, until you remembered you’re in Bucky’s flat. You sat up, careful not to rub your face and ruin yesterday’s makeup. 

“Morning,” Bucky said in the quiet, making you jump. He was dressed in a white t-shirt and oh Lord, grey sweatpants…

“Morning,” you mumbled, then awkwardly stood up from the sofa as you cleared your throat. You noticed his eyes give you a once over, and hoped your hair wasn’t too much of a mess. Then you wondered how long he'd been lurking there. "Sleep okay?" "Y-yeah, thank you," you replied. Bucky's eyes dropped to the sofa where you just were, and you worried if you looked weird for not asking for a blanket.  "Did you? Sleep okay?" you asked before your previous thought could spiral. He nodded.

"Can I get you anything? Coffee? Tea?" 

"No I umm, I need to go get ready for work… Thanks for letting me use your couch, again, by the way.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You hovered, unsure what you’re supposed to do, if anything. You then nodded, and walked to his front door. You tried to open it but it was locked. Of course it’s locked, it’s his bloody apartment.

God why were you so awkward sometimes.

Bucky walked over, removing a set of keys from his pocket. You took a small step back, the close proximity making you feel unusually flustered. His cologne wafted into your nostrils, and you cursed the fact your boyfriend struggled to even remember to wear deodorant half the time. Bucky unlocked the door, and you quickly stepped out.

“Thanks, again,” you said quietly as you walked down the corridor. You waited until he shut his door before letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding.

You gave Justin an earful once the banging on the door woke him up. His sleep was apparently less deep now it was the morning. You hated how the man could literally sleep for 16 hours straight if he didn’t have you to wake him up. He found it funny you had to stop over at Bucky’s, which only made you more mad. How was it possibly funny. How did he fall asleep not even knowing when you would be coming home from work! He didn't see the big deal.

You didn’t spend a second longer than needed in the flat before leaving for work in a huff.

[randomgentlefolk]

CPC CHAPTER 168

I'M GONNA. I'M GOING TO.

Oh thank goodness Frederick has a cat-like flexibility. No but fr tho. The fact that he can fit in small places and just, fold his body??? He's a cat.

OH I AM SO DOWN TO GWEN, AURELIA, THE POSSUM, AND THE RAT PROTECTING FREDERICK LET'S GOOOOO. Also The possum and Gwen's sharp teeth and Aurelia's spit? Heck yeah. AND THEN AURELIA PROTECTING GWEN!! I'm so glad she had a redemption arc :')

OH. OH. I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS. Do you understand the amount of time I've been thinking about Frederick throwing a book at his bullies and Leland to the point I want to draw it but give up midway due to unable to draw anatomy of a person throwing a book? Yeah. And Frederick calling Leland a doofus LOLLLL.

Curtis not being able to see shit but still defending the aid kit station pretty well? That's what I call true skill. I mean he's really fighting multiple soldiers with armor and spear, and he's winning. But man his hand tho. I'm guessing those are from splinter and maybe some sorta swelling from holding the broom too long (idk how to describe it) or smth? Those has got to hurt...

HAHAHAHHAHAH I can't believe I didn't expect she would say that LMAO. Also she looks so goofy in the second image HAHA.

Nah the commander really went for Laverne too... Did Leland even agree on that?

Omg....Lorena catching Suzie....Lorzanna....

Leland's strength continues to terrify me. He just broke stair railing that seems to be made from marble, WITH HIS BARE HAND. I swear the Pastel palace is gonna need LOTS of renovation after all of these end.

"You don't decide what you want" oh bull I say, bull. Boooo Leland rotten tomatoes rotten tomatoes boooo nobody likes you go home boooo rotten tomatoes.

Eugh I'm surprised Frederick hasn't broken AT LEAST a bone with how much he got slammed and thrown hardly. The door broke bro the door broke. His spine...

Now that I think about it never have i ever with syrah would probably be wild XD

Okay at this point I am the most glad that frederick told cpc because otherwise many bad things would happen...

Wait a minute. What happened to spider Prez? I can't seem to remember...Did she pass out after breaking the door?

Wait so the Plaidypus isn't the royal plaid army?? Wait cause I'm kinda confused now :') if someone can explain it to me that would be great.

OH CRAP OH NO.

Shit, Frederick fr need a doctor asap. All those tossing around, the dusts, nah...

Okay this is sad and all but Syrah with the long nose made me giggle.

THANK YOU PRINCEL-WHOSE-NAME-HASN'T-BEEN-REVEALD!! Blaine really missed like ¾ of the war lmao.

I swear cpc is responsible for me learning new vocabularies daily.

OH??? BLAINE?? BLAINE??? I don't, I really don't know how to start.

First of all, there's a new meaning to this. So what I'm getting here, Blaine wants to be at the top because if he gets all the attention, Lance and Frederick won't be in trouble because he thought Leland wouldn't notice him much then. I suppose what's in Blaine's mind is, it's better to be neglected by your shitty parents rather than being noticed and verbally/physically abused by them?

Okay, I'm starting to get it. I'm the youngest sibling so I don't know if I'm getting it correctly, but this is what I get: "I will take all the abuse from our father so you, my younger brothers, can live a happy life without being notices by him."

Older siblings, amirite?

So, Blaine has been trying to protect his brothers but because Frederick keeps upsetting Leland and then making him proud, Blaine's plan keeps on being in shambles?

One thing I'm confused about though. Hear me out, Blaine most likely has golden child syndrome right? So how do we draw a line between which act is because wanting to succeed due to believing that's all his worth, and which act is from protecting his brothers?

Oh but he still owes Frederick and Lance lots of apologies though. Don't think I can forget what you said to Frederick in the dungeon, Blaine. That chapter broke me. To Lance, well, to be honest I don't exactly know what he should apologize about, but I feel like Blaine still has to? Sorry, I'm not making sense. Maybe apologize due to not talking to Lance and Frederick about his plan?? Oh man someone help me–

Imagine this tho: Blaine apologizing to Lance and Frederick for letting them get hurt by father, but then Isolde came and assured him that what Leland do isn't his fault. Haha I love to analyze this guy's mental health.

I hope he goes to therapy after this is all over. The plaid princes really need a lot of therapy. Actually the whole plaid family need therapy.

Okay say goodbye to my professionalism for awhile.

OABDUANSUAKSBW BLAINE??? PROTECTING FREDERICK?? THIS IS LIKE A DREAM COME TRUE. LAMBCATTTT THANK YOU LAMBCATTT!!!!

Frederick looks so amazed and I won't blame him cause I WOULD TO. IF I WAS ABOUT TO DIE, And someone suddenly came to save me, then proceed to throw the bad guy and himself out of the window by breaking the window and letting the damn sun rise view come in. I. I would look like that.

Blaine looking at the sunrise and realizing the true meaning of life and contemplating what he has done. I love him so much you got this bro.

Also Blaine turns out to be strong! I remember headcanons of him being the weakest out of the three. I mean that could still happen, but the fact that he carried Leland in which who knows how much he weights, and threw him out of the window. Damn.

But they're still falling though, that's not good. I doubt Blaine will die for that matter. It would be wasteful. He barely had his redemption arc. I'm thinking either he uses Leland to break his fall, or Nell's premonition about the tent save him. But the forest is a little far though... Oh! Or maybe, because the pastel kingdom is full of hills, they would fall and roll down towards the tent! That's a possibility!

SHE'S WEARING RED. I REPEAT, SHE'S WEARING RED!!!! YOOOO I WONDER WHAT SHE DID?? I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER...which is in 20 minutes lmao

That's it for now. See ya next chapter!

Mono out! (But still in to hear your thoughts. Please actually tell me your thought on this because I NEED answers and theories. Also psychology analization will actually make me go insanely happy)

[bronzeagepizzeria]

@tentoorosemicrofics 400 words for the prompt: glasses

“Don’t be ridiculous,” the woman chided. “You’ve had glasses before.”

“Yes,” the dark-haired man agreed heatedly, swivelling around on the exam bed to face her, “but I didn’t need them. It’s about the principle of the thing, Rose. Those were temporary—could whip them on whenever I felt like, but these—not like I need them, mind—these would be a requirement.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t like being told what to do!”

“Clearly,” the woman—Rose—said, her voice clipped. She exhaled roughly, like she was gathering up every inch of patience in her body. “I think,” she started carefully, “you’d be better off. You did fall down the stairs last week. Don’t want you breaking your neck, next.”

The man grimaced at his wrist,  ensconced in a dark blue cast, as if remembering something particularly distasteful. “Psh,” he murmured. “Who came up with the idea of spiral stairs anyway? Rubbish.”

“And the chart—”

“Oh, please—they print those things blurry, Rose, it’s all a ploy to make you think you’ve got bad eyesight—”

“Why would they do that?” Rose exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air. “What is wrong with you? Why can’t you just admit—”

“They,” the man sniffed haughtily, “render one unattractive—-”

“That’s just Hollywood speaking,” William finally piped in, having until now, followed their argument like an incredibly riveting tennis match. “Them and their agenda against glasses—honestly—”  he pushed his own frames up his nose, irritation prickling through him. “The Princess Diaries. She’s All That. Miss Congeniality. Hell, even Clark Kent takes his glasses off when he’s Superman—it’s ridiculous. And don’t tell me it’s about the physics of it—just get one of these! With the straps! Voila, perfect eyesight and flexibility—”

“...Right,” Rose said, blinking. She turned to the man then, her husband, if William had to guess—(except they didn’t have matching bands—but there was a sort of intimacy about them, something which came about after years of knowing someone) a strange little smile tugging on her face. “What if I told you I found them attractive?”

The man straightened. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Rose nodded somewhat mischievously. “What if I also told you,” she leaned in to whisper in the man’s ear, whose eyes widened even as his cheeks took on an interesting pink tinge.

“Bill,” he said a bit squeakily, before clearing his throat. “Bill, was it? William? Show me the adjustable strap lenses.”  

[aralezinspace]

Emboss

~AO3~ Ezio/Reader, mildly suggestive.

Kinktober prompt: Leather

Kinktober masterlist

You had never been able to restrain yourself when Ezio came home from a mission, especially if he had been gone for more than a few days. On this particular occasion, he had been gone just shy of a month, long enough for you to become frantic with concern.

You were about to hunt down any and all of his associates in Roma and demand to know if they had heard from your partner. The moment you were ready to leave, you heard the clatter and creak of the door opening, followed by the clump of boots on the floor and a deep, groaning sigh you’d know anywhere.

“Ezio!” you called, racing down the stairs. He was leaning against the closed door, his eyes half-lidded. They shot open and a delighted, ravenous grin split his face open when he heard your voice.

Ezio didn’t even bother greeting you before grabbing your arms and turning you so you were trapped between him and the closed door. He attacked your lips with a desperate growl, shoving his tongue into your mouth to taste every inch of you.

“I missed you,” he rasped, sliding his lips down to mouth at your neck. Your hands pushed his hood back, revealing dark hair neatly tied with a fading red ribbon. You dug your fingers into the muscles of his shoulders and gently pushed him back. He frowned in warning.

“Let me look at you,” you urged him gently. Your eyes traveled quickly from his head to his toes, stopping briefly where you knew vital organs were, searching for any injuries. On the second pass, you did a double take, your eyes going wide and a red flush burning your cheeks.

Over his customary white robes, Ezio was sporting a brand new set of armor- vambraces, a chest piece, greaves, and a thick belt about his waist, all in deep brown leather. It was shiny and hardly scuffed- all you could see were a few scratches from the hilt of his sword brushing over the chest piece as he moved, and a few scrapes on the vambraces from his hidden blades. The vambraces and greaves had the Assassin insignia embossed onto them, surrounded by artful swirls that would not look out of place on a coat of arms.

Heat began to coil low in your belly as your fingertips ghosted over the smooth leather. The material was warm from the sun and the heat of Ezio’s body, the buckles that held it all together somehow still cold. The smell of the leather and conditioning oil stuck in your nose with a sharp tang. You bit your lip as your touches became more insistent, questing over the armor, gently pressing in to hear the slightest creak of material.

You bit your bottom lip and tilted your gaze back up to Ezio’s face: the look he was giving you was nothing short of blazing, eyes dark and narrowed, the tendons in his neck trying to break out of his skin with the effort it took to maintain his self control.

The man before you was a force of nature wrapped in linen and leather. His choice of material was a testament to the knowledge of his own skills: he didn’t need to encumber himself with plate armor, for no opponent had even the slightest chance of landing a blow. It was built for stealth and speed, light and flexible- the armor of a man who could vanish into the night before his target even knew they were dead.

“I take it you approve?” he purred slowly, a positively feral smile spreading across his face. You nodded twice- short of breath, mouth dry, knees weak. Ezio stepped in closer.

He took your wrists in one hand and pinned them to the door above your head, while the other pressed his leather-clad forearm to your throat, forcing you to lift your chin just enough for him to see your muscles work as you swallowed hard. Arousal flared through you; being the sole focus of this man, one whom the word ‘dangerous’ didn’t even begin to cover, was a heady feeling you couldn’t get enough of.

“Well then, caro mio…” He rolled his hips into yours, a startled whimper bubbling out of you as your legs turned to jelly. His breathy growl sent a shiver down your spine.

“Why don’t you show me how much.”

[shinyshade8026]

V and S going on a date hunting, but V or S gets worn out and the other comforts them and they snuggle :3

Exhaustion

While on a hunting date, S swears themself out yet insists they're fine. V knows otherwise and knows just how to help them relax.

Normally, disassembly drones were pretty silent flyers, being able to creep up on workers without an issue. But on this night, a certain set was quite chatty.

S flew below V, their body parallel to hers as they flew with their back to the snowy landscape. The two had chosen to take today to spend time with each other. Asmi was at school, E and J were off doing their own couple things, so that left V and S with each other. Seeing as hunting was one of V's preferred pass time, S had offered to turn it into a date.

By then, V and S had killed around 7 worker drones. They had a list of wanted workers that they kept in their storage. Drones nobody would miss, and those were often their targets. Those or drones just wandering.

At this point, V was still full of energy, and she had noticed that S seemed to be slowing down, despite their sluggish flirting attempts. She frowned lightly, seeing the sighs of exhaustion in their body.

"You know, your hair looks like its glowing in the moonlight," It said with a giggle, staring up at V. She softly smiled at them, but noticed they were struggling to fly in one set direction.

"Thanks, S. Hey, you seem tired. Do you want to rest for a second?" V offered, a genuine look of worry on her face. S giggled sleepily, shaking their head.

"I'm okay V! Wide awake and ready to spend the day with you!!" They hum, flipping so that their back was to V's front. The shorter disassembly drone frowned, but then smirked at seeing a chance to get them to do as she wished.

"Hold on, I think I see a worker down there. Follow me," She swooped down, not waiting for their response.

It followed without question, the two of them landing in the snow at around the same time. V turned to S, seeing them wobble, which only confirmed her thoughts. She strode over to them, one hand on her hip. As it looked around, she crept up behind them before swiftly scooping them into their arms with an alarmed yelp from the blonde.

"Normally you hear me coming. Wow, you really are tired," At her words, S huffed, blushing and crossing their arms. V only chuckled at this, deploying her wings once more. "We're not staying out anymore, I'm taking you home tonight, for the final time, and we aren't leaving our home until you're feeling better,"

They made a mumble of objection, but the way they rested their head against her, and the way their tail wrapped with hers, told V that S wasn't planning on trying to get away from her.

With that information set in her CPU, V crouched down before launching into the air. She felt S curl closer to her and she smiled to herself.

The flight back home was rather quiet, aside from the buzzing of S's tail and their purring that was whisked away by the wind. As they were flying, it still honestly surprised her that someone so tall could easily be picked up by someone around a foot shorter. But hey, she wasn't complaining.

The two landed outside of their home, V walking up the steps with no hesitation, using her tail to pull open the door to let them in. She went up the stairs silently, placing her pointed feet carefully due to the added weight of carrying S.

When she got to their room and went inside, she didn't even bother with turning on the lights, the light from outside being enough. She came over to their large bed and sat S down. Upon being freed from its girlfriend's arms, S stretched their joints, moving in such a way that would be concerning if they weren't flexible.

V unzipped her jacket, taking it off and hanging it on the headboard, along with her scarf. She sat on the bed, snorting at a smiling and blushing S, whose tail was buzzing.

"S, you see me in my tank-top all of the time, yet your reaction never changes," She teases, poking where their nose would be.

S giggled, slipping off their hoodie as well and sitting cross legged on the bed. "What? Am I not allowed to like seeing you?"

"Oh you're such a dork,"

"As always! You love me for it,"

"Damn right," V laid back on the pillows, S shifting to lay with her. One way she knew to get S to relax was to cuddle them until they fell asleep.

S rested their head against V's shoulder, the smaller drone wrapping her arm around their torso. Its arm draped over her chest, going to hold her other hand and intertwine their fingers together. V's other hand found its way to S's back, resting there and little rubbing it.

Their tails wove around each other tightly, the spade-shaped one buzzing quietly as they grew more tired. V took off their beanie, setting it to side so she could now run her free hand through their hair, undoing any tangles gently. She felt them starting to quietly purr, their eyes closing as they nuzzled their face more against V.

"You getting sleepy there, love?" V asks quietly. S's response is a tired mumble while cuddling their face more against her. She chuckled, knowing the real answer. "I'll be here when you wake up," They whisper to it comfortingly.

S cracks open and eye, lifting their head enough to give their partner a light kiss on the lips before putting their head back were it was before. "mm.. you're comfy.." They mumble.

This prompts a chuckle from V, who leans down to kiss their forehead. "I know.. You tell me every time. Take your nap, you big dork,"

S nods sleepily, their visor flickering into ' SLEEP MODE ' for just a moment. "Love you.."

"Love you too," She returned the affection, smiling softly as she watched the text take over S's visor, showing them asleep.

[kipsels]

Reach & Flexibility

“He’s not here.”

Kaveh leans against the door frame, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Lumine only needs to lean to the side to see the mess of drafting paper and project outlines scattered on the floor behind him. 

“Oh, do you know where he might be? I went to the Academiya but he wasn't in his office, and some of the scholars said they saw him leaving hours ago.”

The sigh that leaves Kaveh is so heavy his shoulders physically sag as he exhales.

“How would I know where he is? I’m not his personal secretary, and I have no desire to keep tabs on h-” Kaveh blinks, his carmine eyes staring out at the dusky sky behind her, “What time is it?”

“It’s just after six!” Paimon pipes up from beside her.

“And the day?”

“What do you mean the d-” Lumine claps her hand over Paimon’s mouth.

It only takes a glance to see the dark rings under Kaveh’s eyes, or the way his artfully tousled hair was looking a lot less artful and much more frazzled. Never provoke an exhausted artist, Lumine thinks as she answers him politely.

“It’s Thursday.”

Another sigh, and Kaveh is already turning away from them. 

“He’ll be at his yoga class.”

“Yoga?”

“Yes, yoga. Here- the address, take it and leave me to wallow in my failure.”

Lumine takes the piece of paper from him, the door shutting before she even gets a chance to thank him. 

She finds the studio by the docks, its door held open by a stop.

Walking up the stairs, she hears a calming melody play in the background, and a placid voice speaks over it with gentle instructions. 

When she makes it to the landing, Lumine's jaw hits the floor. She’s fairly certain Paimon’s does as well.

Alhaitham is dressed down, his cape neatly folded by the corner of his mat, along with the decorative sash that was usually wrapped over his shoulder and waist. His boots, too, stand in perfect place behind him. 

She stares at his bare feet as he bends in half, perfectly balanced as one hand braces the floor while the other cups the back of his calf, his other leg stretched high above him in a near perfect line. 

Lumine feels her own hips twinge at the sight alone. 

Before she realises it, Haitham has moved out of the pose as both hands brace on the floor, the defined muscles in his shoulders bunching tight as he lifts himself into a handstand. 

And then he goes further.

His back arches in a graceful curve as his knees bend, the tips of his toes brushing against the silver locks of hair on his head. 

"Woah," Paimon whispers beside her in awe.

Lumine doesn’t realise she had been holding her breath until his feet find the ground again, stretching past his head as his body pushes up into another dramatic arch, his spine a fluid thing as he slowly lifts his body upright.

Over and over again, Haitham contorts his body in ways Lumine had never imagined. She barely notices anyone else in the class, her eyes riveted to the way his muscles held perfect control of his movements.

The class is over before she knows it, and she blinks when she feels Paimon tugging at her scarf. 

“Lumine,” Alhaitham acknowledges her with a nod, already fully dressed.

“I didn’t know you could do all that,” She vaguely gestures at his entire body.

“The sedentary nature of scholarly work has a number of negative health impacts. The Sumeran practice of yoga helps to counter the shortening of ligaments and increase one’s flexibility and balance,” Alhaitham explains plainly.  

“Some even find the practice quite meditative.”

“It’s very… impressive.”

“If you’re interested, you should join me for a class,” Alhaitham’s lips pull into a smile, “Improving your flexibility will help you in combat, and in other areas too.”

Other areas?

Lumine feels herself flush at the knowing look in his eye. 

“Now, was there a reason you sought me out, or did you just come to ogle?”

Lumine’s cheeks burn even brighter when she realises she can't remember why she needed to talk to him in the first place.

[threadsun]

Dr. Anon here!

Here's to Jack because he is...a clown (not creative I know).

Picture the whole clown getup but instead he can do that trick where he can "deflate his hair" and puff it up again by taking a breath.

He's like a walking talking balloon...And not only that he can somehow materialize confetti and if you play birthday music his finger tips light up with a little flame like candles.

He is VERY flexible so have fun with that.

Jack can sometimes do invisible stairs trick but then you realize he can actually fly...Just not so high... But high enough!

He denies it but his nose can honk. You found out when he hit his face on the wall doing a trick (Because he was falling for you~)

He doesn't like being confined to the one area...So he wanders around...Mostly following you.

There was a lot for me to work with but this just felt right to me...

Not the nose honking 😭

[lgcchaekyung]

park chaekyung ( 박채경 ) is a trainee under legacy entertainment.

NAME: park chaekyung

BIRTHDAY: 30 september 2005

BIRTHPLACE: jeolla, south korea

BLOOD TYPE: A

ZODIAC SIGN: libra

FAVORITE MOTTO: i don't need anybody who doesn't need me

RANDOM FACTS - broke her nose once after falling from the stairs - has a fear of faceless ghosts - if she hadn't join lgc, she would become a dance instructor for one million dance studio - she's able to consume a whole lemon - loves romance books - flexible as hell

YEAR END GOALS - debut with a dancer position - learn to be more outspoken - pick up a hobby besides dancing

PREVIOUS APPEARANCES/PROJECTS - none

MOST MEMORABLE OR FAVORITE EVENT halloween's her favorite because she loves to play dress up. and this was also her first party so it was quite memorable for her.

[aparticularbandit]

Stolen: Chapter One: Starburst

Chapter Summary: Billy has a horrible headache.  He gets into a fight with his brother.  Then his headache gets worse.

Agatha Harkness/Wanda Maximoff Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M for adult themes, particularly regarding loss of bodily autonomy.

AO3

previous chapter / next chapter

Roughly a decade later:

Billy’s head aches.

It’s not like his head hasn’t hurt before; Tommy pushed him out of the tree in their backyard once because he’d thought maybe he could fly, and Billy landed flat on his head.  His neck felt weird when he stood up, but he twisted it this way and that, heard a sharp crack, and then been fine.  Mostly.  He had a sharp pain in the back of his head for almost a week after that, and a nice slash through his forehead that his mom stitched back together with a wave of her hand, but that was different than this.

This is just a constant, thrumming, low ache.

Billy furrows his brow, but that just makes the pain worse.  He closes his eyes, shakes his head.  It doesn’t help.  Of course, this ache has been here for almost a week; it’s not bad enough to tell his mom about it.  It just makes everything so loud. Sometimes, it feels like there’s a running line of static through his brain at all times, like he can’t quite make out what anyone else is actually saying.

And right now, it feels a little too much like—

“Boys?”  Billy’s mom calls from somewhere downstairs, voice loud enough to make it through the floor. “What do you want for dinner?  I’m going to start cooking soon!”

Man, I want pizza, Tommy, Billy’s brother, indicates loud and clear.  Mom should get pizza.  Or stuff to make pizza.  Then I can throw flour in Billy’s—

“Boys?”

Billy shakes his head again.  No way. He ignores his mom’s call and pops his head out of his bedroom doorway, glares down the hall to where his twin brother is starting to stomp down the stairs.  “I hate it when you put flour in my hair!”

At first, Tommy sniggers.  Then he stops and turns to Billy.  “I didn’t say anything!”

“Yeah, you did!”  Billy continues to glare at his brother.  “You were talking about pizza and making pizza and then about throwing flour in my face!”

Tommy’s eyes narrow.  “I didn’t say any of that!”  He runs down the stairs.  “Mom!  Mo-om!”

Billy pushes himself from his bed, winces when the throbbing ache in his head grows louder (Momcan’tknowhecan’ttellhershe’llbesoupset), and then thunders down the stairs after his brother.  “Mom, I don’t want pizza, Tommy’s just gonna use it to throw flour at me!”

“You can’t prove that!  I never said that!”  Tommy shoves Billy just as he makes it down the stairs and then runs away, giggling, as Billy falls to the ground.  I’m gonna get to Mom first and—

“No, you’re not!” Billy yells out. He pushes a hand through his shaggy black hair, winces again (everything is so loud now, and it didn’t used to be, and he doesn’t know why it started being that way, and his head hurts, and—), and forces himself up.  There’s no way he’s going to catch up to Tommy, but he tries anyway.  His twin has always been the faster of them, and it’s not fair, and he doesn’t want a flour fight, and—

Billy runs smack dab into Tommy’s back.  “Ow.”  He steps back, rubbing his nose.  “What’d you stop for?”  Then he glances up, and a bright grin plays about his face.  “Auntie Agnes!”

There are two great constants in Billy’s life (well, three, if you count Tommy, which he doesn’t): his mom, pretty and sweet and rigid, and his aunt Agnes, pretty and sweet and flexible. Actually, they’re both flexible, but Agnes is never rigid.  His mom could say no sweets before dinner and maybe change her mind if Agnes brought cookies over.  Agnes, knowing his mom’s rule about sweets before dinner, would bring cookies (and sometimes talk her mom into more than one).  If his mom has a rule, Agnes knows how to find a way around it without really breaking it, and both twins love – and hate – her for this in equal measure, mostly because it means they never know who’s side she’ll be on in one of their fights.

In all honesty, Agnes should be on Tommy’s side.  She’s the one who introduced them to flour fights, after all, when she’d first taught them how to make chocolate chip cookies (Always add a little more sugar than the recipe calls, and just a touch of cinnamon) and then booped the tip of his mom’s nose with that same touch of flour.  His mom stared at her, wrinkled her nose, and grinned (So you want a fight, do you?), and Agnes’s eyes twinkled as she started to stir her pot of homemade caramel (Oh, no, dear.  I would never pick a fight with you).  Tommy, however, took her cue and threw more than a dash of flour at Billy, who’d hidden in a cabinet during the ensuing battle.  He hated it. Hated it.

But – in this case – because Agnes is expected to be on Tommy’s side, she’ll probably be on Billy’s.  She’s a lot less easy to pin down that way.

“Howdy, neighbors!”  Agnes smiles because she always smiles, and she beams at them because she always beams at them.  Point of fact, Billy doesn’t think he’s ever seen her anything other than cheerful. His mom, sure, she has her moments, and sometimes she snaps at them when she’s mad (although she takes great care to apologize later, and she doesn’t do it very often), but Agnes?  Never snaps.  Never gets mad.  Gets rightly sad when Tommy tells her he’s stubbed his toe or Billy says Tommy pushed him out of a tree (again), but always has a quick joke to get them back to feeling better.  “Say,” she props one hand on her hip, “what’s cooking? Something smells absolutely divine.”

Tommy wrinkles his nose.  “Nothing’s cooking.  Mom was just asking us about dinner, and I was going to say pizza, but—”

“He wants to throw flour in my face,” Billy finishes for him, crossing his arms and staring up at Agnes, meeting her bright blue eyes.  “He doesn’t actually want pizza.”  His face contorts, and he frowns, gaze dropping.  “He just wants to make fun of me.”

“I never said—”

“Yes, you did!”  Billy whirls to his brother, glaring at him.  “I heard you loud and clear!  And saying how you were gonna get to Mom first and how I couldn’t because then I’d tell her—”

“I didn’t say any of that!”

Billy just continues to glare at his brother.  “I heard you, Tommy!  Don’t lie!” He looks up at Agnes, meeting her eyes again.  “Tell him! Tell him he shouldn’t lie!”

“Well, I don’t know, Mr. Shakespeare,” Agnes says.  She taps her chin with one slender finger.  “If Tommy says he didn’t say any of it, then—”

At first, Billy just hears Tommy’s laughing, “See?” but before he can turn away to his brother, hands clenched into fists at his sides, he hears a loud yowling, piercing screaming.  It rings in his ears so loud that he hunches over, covering them.  That doesn’t help.  Nothing helps.  If anything, covering his ears just makes the screaming louder.  It wracks through his already aching skull, echoing and reverberating and layering itself over itself, over and over and over again.

For a moment – just a moment – Billy is convinced that it’s Agnes.

Then it’s so loud that his ears start to feel like they’re splitting, except he’s not sure the sound is coming through his ears, so maybe it’s just his head that feels like it’s splitting

Billy yells.

The last thing he feels before blacking out is Tommy’s hand on his back, Tommy’s hand gripping him, Tommy’s hand shaking him roughly, and the last thing he sees is Agnes standing above him, bright blue eyes wide, panicked, with confusion, her mouth pressed shut in a thin little line.

[ask-the-achs]

🔑 Marcalak Samson (fun fact, he's friends with almost all the FNAF animatronics, except for the nightmares and Springtrap)

Report:*nothing is heard outside of Sunblood yelling at Moontear who's stealing weapons and accidentally dropped a hit list of people.* *they duo are arguing about what to do.*

He is a large, fairly human-like entity that resembles a large wooden puppet(reminds me of a version of me i met once. He was cool-Bun). He has a human-like head and neck, a humanoid torso, two long arms, and two long legs. He is 14 feet tall, and most of his height is from the length of his limbs. His skin is rather thick and very tough. He has five long fingers on each hand and five long toes on each foot, and his fingers and toes are all nearly the same length. His fingers and toes all have three joints, while his thumbs have two joints. His fingers and toes are tipped with long, sharp nails that resemble claws. These nails are rather strong, but they can be cut like human nails. His head is almost identical to a human head, but his mouth is unnaturally wide, and he has 64 teeth in total(yes, we counted). His teeth are rather small, and they resemble a young child's teeth, although his canine and incisor teeth are very sharp, and his canine teeth are slightly elongated. Marcalack has a slightly elongated human-like tongue that ends in a rounded point. He has bright orange human-like eyes, a small triangular nose, and a full head of fairly short dark brown hair. His skin is dark brown, and the skin on his back and forearms is covered in tiny bumps.

Marcalak Samson is 17 years old(question does he go to school?-Octo). While he was born as a regular human, he was kidnapped by an insane scientist when he was 12 years old, and the scientist turned him into what he is now(*theres barely legible handwriting from Moontear shes mad*). Thankfully, Marcalak was able to escape soon after he was transformed, and he currently lives with Vladimir Radachov Stepanov and his friends. His mother also lives with him(reminds me of a few of my friends-Prince), and Marcalak is extremely protective of his mother(Like several people we know.) (AI!-Paradox)(no comment-Bun)(really?-Kaito). He has a 4 foot long sword that resembles a butcher knife with an elongated blade(who gave the child a sword? Teens like him should be learning about themselves and calculus or historical moments-Kaito). Marcalak can easily mimic sounds and voices. He is incredibly agile and very flexible. He is a very fast runner, an excellent climber, and a fast swimmer. He can also leap up to 30 feet straight up and climb on walls and ceilings like a spider(nope, not imagining that again, I've seen enough of that nonsense). Marcalak has PTSD due to the experiments that were performed on him, but he tries not to let his past get in the way of his life(good for him). He is quite playful, and he is also highly athletic. He also loves gymnastics(o can see him going to the Olympics with enough training). He can easily balance objects on the tips of his fingernails, and he enjoys balancing his sword on his fingertips to impress people. (And here I am tripping on myself when walking down dark stairs)

Dr.Sunblood

Threat level:HARMLESS