#i'm sorry for never shutting up about them but no i'm not

[sugawhaaa]

ATEEZ SMUT REACTION

Catching them watching porn + porn they watch

Warnings:: smut

Pairing:: ateez x fem!reader

A/N:: hey sugababies 🥰 I am currently working on my kinktober like all day every day (not really) so that's why I haven't posted since 1969 😬

Extra note:: San, and Wooyoung get a little snappy and defensive but it's not too extreme.

Ateez h/c masterlist ⊹ ࣪ ﹏𓊝﹏⊹ ࣪

Taglist:: @cloudy-lilly @dwaekkii

Hongjoong

Hongjoong was cuddled up in his blankets, very late at night, with his phone screen lighting up his face. He had one arm beneath the blankets and the other shakily held up his phone in front of his face. His eyes were fixated on the way the woman's body jerked with each thrust from her partner. It made his body warm and tingly and his cock wouldn't stop twitching as he held it in the palm of his hand. Soft whimpers and breaths escape his lips as the woman's moans grow louder.

Oh how he wishes he was doing that to you. Pounding into you until you cried from how good you felt. He turned to look at you, peacefully sleeping next to him. Now he felt bad but he couldn't stop his fingers, rubbing his cock as he palmed at his aching balls, begging to be emptied. He let out a soft whine, louder than intended.

"I'm sorry Y/N, I'm so dirty," he sighed, frustrated at himself. You turned to him with a soft smile, your eyes partially opened.

"No you're not," you lazily rub his cheek and he's frozen in place. His hands freeze and the video keeps playing at a low volume. "You may be a little...slutty but I like it," you smile. "There's nothing wrong with that," your eyes flutter back shut. "If you want help you can just go ahead right now...I'm not very awake but I still have a pussy for you to use," you chuckle and Hongjoong finally unfreezes.

"R-Right uhm," he looks back at his phone as the video comes to an end, the lovers kissing before the screen goes blank. "You don't have to baby I can...help myself," he nods and you shake your head.

"I'm already naked anyways, cmon,"

Seonghwa

He was going all out. He refused to hold anything back mainly because he physically couldn't. He had never been such a mess, he was a straight-up mess. His entire body was soaked in sweat despite the fall weather outside, his hair clung to his face in wet strands, his lips were swollen and red from biting down on them, and his hands were soaked.

He couldn't even tell what his hand, cock, and balls were soaked in anymore. Sweat? Spit? Lube? Cum? He didn't know or care. On his bed where his head craned down to look was his phone, playing porn. He didn't bother to put headphones in for the first time in his life because he was just too horny. He knew you'd be home soon but he didn't care.

A drop of sweat falls from his nose onto the screen of his phone. "Shit," The droplet fell right where he could see the woman's pussy being spread open by her man's cock. He growled to himself, momentarily pausing everything. He wiped the sweat off his face with the back of his arm and took a moment to look at himself. "Disgusting," he said to himself out loud before taking a deep breath and continuing.

As he continued to try and get off the door opened to his lover, you. He sighed as you opened the door, knowing his fate. "I'm sorry, I know you were trying to work,"

"No baby I was worried about you," you say as you go over to him. Upon seeing the state he was in, you felt you were in the right for being worried. "Do you need help? You seem very frustrated sweetie," you put a hand on his shoulder and he turns off his phone, not bothering to pause the porn.

"No. I'm just tired," he sighs before grabbing you in his arms and laying down. "Sorry I know I'm sticky and sweaty but I just wanna cuddle," he nuzzles his face into your neck as he holds you on top of him.

"It's okay," you pat his back and he lets out a sigh.

Yunho

He thought he'd be home alone for the entire night so he brought out all the lube and sex toys on the couch and turned on the TV with some porn. He kept himself entertained for quite a long time. He started by watching some hentai and rubbing himself through his boxers but as he fell into a rabbit hole of intimate sex sessions recorded and uploaded onto pornhub he got too into it.

He found one video of a couple at a hotel just going at it so passionately but still very rough. Yunho continously jerked off to this video on loop until there was a puddle of lube and cum beneath him. Just as he was at the end of his session, the last final surge of energy, he heard the door open. He panicked and scrambled to find the remote only to find it had lube on it.

He tried to press the pause button down but his finger kept slipping off. "Shit shit shit shit," he then noticed you walk into the room. "Y/N! Y-Youre home early!" He proceeds to jam the button in an attempt to get the porn to pause.

"Are you watching porn on our Tv?" You had to slightly raise your voice above speaking level for him to hear you due to how loud he turned up the volume.

"Yes! I can't get it to stop!" He cried out before burying his face in one of the pillows, the video still playing. You calmly pick up the remote, dry it off and pause the video before sitting next to Yunho.

"I'm not mad baby," you put a hand to his back and he just whines into it. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Mhm," he says into the pillow and you rub his back.

"Why? What part is embarrassing?" You tilt your head and he finally turns to look at you.

"The fact I was watching it on our TV, it was really loud and you walked in. And I also couldn't get the video to pause so you saw the kind of content I watch..." he holds the pillow up go cover himself.

"That's all nonsense," you giggle. "You didn't expect me to be here and if doing something like this gets you off, who cares?" You shrug and tuck some of his hair back. "And trust me, I watch all kinds of porn, this is nothing new to me," you kiss his forehead and you see his body instantly loosen.

"Really?" He blushes softly but he feels much better now, excited that you're here now.

Yeosang

You step out of the shower and dry yourself off. You dry your hair and wrap it up in a towel before doing your skincare. As you apply your moisturizer you hear sounds from the room next door. You assume it's nothing but the sounds persist and it sounds like Yeosang crying. You unwrap your hair and use the towel to cover yourself lazily. You rush into Yeosangs room only to find him doing pretty much the opposite of crying.

He had his legs spread as wide as they could. He was furiously jerking himself off as his hips bucked up. His opposite hand held his phone and the wires tangled around his body before reaching his ears. Out of the entirety of the sight, the most lewd and exciting part was his facial expressions. He looked so pathetic like he was about to cry because he wanted to cum so badly.

"Yeosang," you say softly but it seems his headphones were a little too loud and he didn't notice you there because his eyes were squinted shut. "Yeosang," you say louder as you come to his bedside. He opens his eyes and jumps back from you. He yanks the earbuds out of his ears by the wires.

"Y-Y/N, I thought you were still showering," he looks at you wide-eyed.

"I thought you were crying so I came to check on you," you explain and he sighs, leaning back. You noticed his body shine as he moved, the light showing off his sweat. "I'm sorry I just...wanted to make sure you were okay," You put a hand to his shoulder as he covers his face with his hands.

"I feel so bad," he whimpers and you tilt your head.

"Why baby? This is all normal," you pat the back of his head and he looks back down at his cock, still hard and throbbing.

"But I'm not normal about it," he sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. "I do it in weird places and in weird ways, and I watch weird porn," he sighs and shakes his head. "I just hate when I get like this," he explains and you pat his head again.

"No baby, there is no such thing as weird ways to masturbate," you rub his cheek and he sighs. "Trust me, and porn it doesn't really matter at the end of the day. If it gets you hard and makes you cum who cares," you explain as you sit down next to him. "Trust me baby, you're healthy," you kiss him and you see a smile creep on his face. He looks at you and then nods. He picks up his phone and pauses the hentai he was watching, now not afraid to admit he was even watching porn in the first place.

The two of you snuggle up and chat about sex and your desires a little more, trying to comfort him and show him that he was healthy.

San

San was sitting in bed with his hand in his sweatpants, pumping his cock aggressively as he groaned loudly. His eyebrows were furrowed as he shakily held his phone. "Fuck I'm gonna cum," he groans out as he throws his head back. When he picks his head back up to see the mess he has made in his pants he meets eye contact with you. "Y/N!" He jumps and tosses his phone to the side while trying to turn down the volume. His cock still strained against his pants as cum spurted out of it onto his pants. You stare at him for a moment watching his face turn red before quietly approaching him.

"Hey, are you okay?" You ask softly as San keeps his head down, pretending to be preoccupied by cleaning himself.

"I'm fine," he says slightly frustrated as he wipes off his pants. You put a hand to his back and rub it softly.

"It's just...I've never seen you masturbate so aggressively," you stroke the back of his neck, putting his hair down as you do so.

"I'm fine," he growls back again as he clenches the tissues in his fist before throwing them out. As you watched him toss it into the trash can you noticed it was overflowing with tissues and your worry grew.

"San I'm serious, how long have you been doing this for?" You say worriedly and he sighs before finally looking at you. His eyes were watery and red, puffy around the edges, his lips were red and swollen, he looked a mess. "Oh San," you put a hand to his cheek and he sighs in frustration.

"It's been at least...four hours," he looks down again and you kiss his cheek softly. "I don't know why but I just can't stop, it hurts," he whines softly, suddenly clinging to you now. "Please Y/N, please help me," he wraps his arms around your waist as he turns his desk chair to you. He looks up at you with puppy dog eyes before kissing your stomach. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he nuzzles the side of his face against you as he speaks.

"It's okay, you were just frustrated," you pet his head and he nods glad that you understand him.

Mingi

Mingi had his blanket stuffed in his mouth as he used your panties to jerk himself off. He knew it was gross but he couldn't help it. After having a wet dream he saw your panties in the laundry basket and couldn't not use them. Next to him he had his laptop playing porn at a rather high volume as the girl on the screen got pounded into the bed. "Fuck Y/N," he groans. "I wish you were here right now," he whines softly.

More groans and chokes escape Mingi's lips as your pink panties wrap around his cock. "I'm cumming, fuck!" He growls as cum overflows from his cock, staining your panties with his sperm. As his body relaxes he pulls the panties away from his cock and strings of semen pull from it. He moans softly at the sight before continuing to use them. Just as he started fisting himself again you walked into the room.

"Mingi?" You say softly and he jumps. He scrambles to pause the video and accidentally puts cum onto the pause button.

"Y/N! When did you get home..?" He blushes. You were supposed to be at a friend's house until after lunch but apparently plans changed.

"Well my friend had to take her cat to the vet so I decided it was best for me not to stick around," you then notice what Mingi had been using to fuck himself. Your panties. "Are those my...?" You come closer to him and Mingi is all around flustered.

"Y/N, I promise it's not like that," he covers himself with a blanket but you simply brush it away.

Wooyoung

Wooyoung always struggled to stay quiet. He'd bite on his knuckles, the bed sheets, his lips, his pillow but nothing worked. He just couldn't help but moan and whimper as loud as possible. So when he was furiously jerking himself off to the point his balls hurt from being squished so aggressively by his hand he couldn't possibly keep his mouth shut.

"A-Ah! Fuck, mmngh yes yes yes, I'm gonna cum!" He cried out as his fist moved at an insatiable pace as he watched the man on the screen getting pegged. Oh, how he wishes you were fucking his ass or squeezing his cock with your tight pussy walls ugh he needed you right fucking now. Just as he was about to cum you walked into his room.

He didn't stop his hands though, how could he? He was just about to have the most insane orgasm of his life. His head was throbbing from the tension. "I can't stop," he groaned out before exploding into his orgasm. Cum shoots out from his cock onto his chest as he gasps for air and all you can do is just stand there. He's left panting, his hair in his face, the sweat making it stick to his face.

"Wooyoung are you okay? You look...a little rough," you come over to him and notice the dark circles under his eyes and his red lips and eyes. "Were you crying?" You tuck the hair out of his face and he grumbles, turning his head away from you.

"N-No," he looks away from you before looking back at his cock, standing flat against his stomach. "Fuck," he growls and sits up. You look at him confused before noticing he was still hard as a rock. However, his cock was bright red all the way through, his balls too. His tip was slightly purple as well. Even after just cumming so much he was still hard?

"Is everything okay?" You ask again even though you knew he wasn't fine.

"I'm fine," he says before tearing up slightly. "God damn it, I'm not okay," he sighs and leans back. "I've been jerking off for fucking hours and I'm still so hard it hurts," he says as he brings his hands down to touch himself again.

"Wait," you take his hand softly and he whines softly. "You're hurting yourself Wooyoung, you should take a break," you pull his wrist and place his hand in yours. He looks at you desperately before sighing. He nods and lays back. You gently touch along the base of his cock and he winces slightly. "were you up last night too?" You ask and he nods.

As you touch him, even the slightest touch makes him jump but not in a pleasurable way. He seemed in pain. "I'll get you a cold cloth to ease the stinging a bit. I'm guessing it's sort of like a friction burn," you say as you stand up and Wooyoung just lays there defeated, clearly absolutely exhausted.

Jongho

He was always sneaky when he'd watch porn and anytime he got walked in on with his fist around his cock. He always hid it very well. However the one time he had to let loose his when he got an unexpected visitor.

He was curled up in his bed to the side. He held his phone up with one hand and the other was rubbing his cock. That's when you walked in. You came over to him and wrapped your arms around him. "Hey baby~" you cooed and he froze in place. The screen of his phone was in your line of sight and when you finally noticed you couldn't help but blush. "What's this now," you tease as you reach for his phone. He quickly pulls it out of your reach however.

"Nothing," he says as if you didn't already see the big "Pornhub" font.

"C'mon baby, it's fine~ I watch porn too~ I wanna see what you like," your words instantly shift something in Jongho's brain. He looks at you with wide eyes as he no longer tries to hide his phone. The kind of porn he had been watching came as a surprise to you. It was basically lovemaking. There was no heavy dirty talk, loud sounds or moans, it was just pure natural love making. "Oh," you say softly as you watch it.

"Is it weird?" He asks shyly with a slight smile.

"No, no, just not what I was expecting from you," you smile and pause the video, setting his phone to the side. You crawl on top of him and trace your hands down his biceps as you lay on top of him. You could feel his wet boner throbbing against you and you chuckle softly. "Did you get to cum yet?" You smile and he can't help but smile back.

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C2)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.1K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

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02: Love, Sweat, and Secondhand Embarrassment

"Clemmy I swear I wanted to die that entire time. Whoever I offended in an alternate universe I am so so sorry, I truly believe karma is real now," I lamented, voice weak.

Burying my head in my pillow, I could finally appreciate the cool blast of AC (well, it was a little bit of air conditioning but a little is better than nothing) I scratched my right leg that was hoisted up onto the blue duvet cover. If not for the horrible comedic timing of everything, in that moment, I might have said that I was enjoying myself.

On the other line of the phone, thousands of miles away, it was a completely different story.

"What the fuck," Clementine could barely muster out because she was laughing so hard.

"I still don't think any part of this story is funny, Clem," I roll my eyes and trail off.

"But it is! You genuinely should consider a career in stand-up comedy. If you recounted all of this in front of a paying live audience, I'm just saying it could make you a millionaire overnight," Clementine wheezed.

"Oh, shut up, bitch," I retorted, trying to suppress a smile despite my mortification.

"You know it's true though!" Her girlish giggles rang through my room. I could see her face through the screen and it looked like visible tears were streaming down her face from how funny she found this to be.

"I am completely and utterly humiliated. There is no way I can go downstairs and face everyone right now," I whined. It was true, as twenty minutes ago, mid-Facetime with Clementine, I heard the door to the foyer open and heard a lot of new noises.

New people. The neighbors. The rest of the Australians.

Crikey, mate.

There was no way I could face them. And since Oscar was probably their son (he looked way too young to be a father) he had probably already told them about the wretched and humiliating mishap.

"Seriously, Clemmy, you don’t get it," I said, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice but failing miserably. "This is not just some embarrassing story. This is my life, and I have to face these people now."

Clementine’s laughter finally started to subside, and she took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, I get it. But you have to admit, this is a once-in-a-lifetime kind of disaster. You can’t just ignore it. It’s like the universe is telling you to embrace the chaos."

I sighed, feeling a bit more grounded with her calming tone. "Yeah, well, I’m not exactly feeling the universe’s love right now. I feel like I’ve been dropped into some kind of sitcom. And what if they think I’m a total klutz? I can’t even begin to imagine how Oscar must’ve described me."

"It'll be fine. You are a pro at handling horrible situations. I mean, I can really only think that you have had more bad experiences with guys than good ones!" Clem tried to reassure me.

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. "Way to make a girl feel special."

Clementine's voice was full of playful sympathy. "Hey, I’m just saying, you’ve survived everything life’s thrown at you so far. Besides, look at it this way: if they’re judging you based on this one incident, they’re missing out on getting to know the amazing person you are."

"Yeah, because nothing says 'amazing' like face-planting into a pile of shampoo and knocking over a bunch of cleaning supplies," I said, sarcasm dripping from my tone.

Clementine laughed. "Exactly! And let’s be honest, if they do judge you for this, they’re definitely not worth your time. Besides, Oscar might even think you’re charming in a clumsy, endearing kind of way. You never know."

"You should really consider a career in therapy. If I lay here and close my eyes for a bit and sleep for three hours surely your advice will work," I retorted.

"Oh be so serious with me now,"

"I am! Now I can add a new skill to my LinkedIn profile," I said, trying to stifle a giggle. "How about 'Expert in Catastrophic Bathroom Mishaps: Master of Turning Shower Encounters into Slapstick Comedy'?"

Clementine burst into laughter. “That’s quite a title! It’s like you’ve got a whole new niche market for yourself.”

“Right? I’m just waiting for the endorsement from ‘The Association of Embarrassing Bathroom Incidents,’” I said, imagining a badge with that exact title. What a big, fat, fucking joke.

“Or maybe you'll become the keynote speaker for the 'International Conference on Unexpected Water-Based Accidents,’” Clementine added, her voice full of amusement.

“I’ll make sure to include a workshop on ‘How to Survive a Bathroom Collision with Dignity and Humor,’” I said with a chuckle. “And don’t forget the seminar on ‘Turning Slip-and-Fall Disasters into Networking Opportunities.’”

“A career to consider!” Clementine laughed. “And you know what? I’ll be your first fan. Just remember to keep me updated on how your new ‘disastrous bathroom mishap’ career is going.”

“I’ll make sure to do that,” I promised with a smile. “Thanks for the laugh. It’s nice to know that even in the middle of a fiasco, I can count on you to turn it into a comedy show.”

"What can I say, I will never turn down listening to a free shit show," Clementine winked at me through the camera.

"Clem! What the hell!" I waved my manicured pointed nail at her.

"Bye! Don't die from embarrassment before you come back!" She quipped, then promptly hung up.

I lay sprawled on my bed, dreading the thought of going downstairs and facing the group of new neighbors. The whole idea made me cringe. I was just about to mentally prepare myself for the awkward introductions when a sudden knock on my door jolted me upright. My heart raced as I called out lazily, “Come in.”

The door creaked open, and I nearly jumped out of my skin when I saw Oscar standing there. His eyebrow was raised, and he wore a cheeky grin that did nothing to ease my nerves.

"Well, well, well," he said with an amused smirk. "Looks like you’ve been having quite the chat with 'dearest Clemmy,' haven’t you?"

My face flushed beet red, and I stuttered, struggling to find my words. “W-What are you doing here?”

Oscar leaned casually against the doorframe, clearly enjoying my discomfort. “Oh, you know, just overheard you and Clemmy talking about our little mishap. I believe you mentioned something about me being ‘a charming yet infuriating Aussie who managed to turn your bathroom break into a comedy skit.’”

I blinked, stunned into silence. My mouth opened and closed, but no coherent words came out. The sheer embarrassment was overwhelming. Oscar’s casual demeanor and his cheeky grin only made things worse.

“What can I say, my name was called,” Oscar continued with a mischievous glint in his eye. “If someone keeps calling you hot, I mean, wouldn’t you be too curious to listen?”

His smirk only made my breath hitch and my fingers tremble a little more. I could feel my cheeks burning, and I struggled to come up with a response. The playful glint in his eye and his casual attitude did nothing to alleviate my embarrassment. Instead, they only made me feel more flustered.

I took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “W-Well, I guess I didn’t think anyone would be actually listening.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow playfully, his smirk widening. “Oh, I’m sure you didn’t. But it was too good to pass up. Especially the part where you called me a ‘human wrecking ball.’”

My face flushed a deeper shade of crimson. “Great. Just great,” I muttered, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sure I’ve made a fantastic first impression.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Look, it’s all good. I’ve seen worse first impressions. Trust me. At least you didn’t accidentally set off the fire alarm or flood the place.”

I managed a weak smile, still feeling the sting of embarrassment. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to keep any future disasters to a minimum.”

Look at me, constantly embarrassing myself in front of hot guys. This was the exact reason why I was still bitchless and socially awkward at the ripe age of twenty-one. I could navigate a spreadsheet like a pro, ace exams, and even master the perfect contour, but put me in a room with a cute guy, and I turned into a walking calamity.

I sighed internally, already dreading the inevitable teasing I’d get from Clemmy once she found out I had, yet again, failed to keep my cool around a guy. Maybe I should’ve just stayed in the bathroom and let the ground swallow me whole.

Oscar raised an eyebrow, studying me with a curious look. “You know, you seem like a completely different person right now. Way quieter, more shy… less daring.”

My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That’s not true,” I snapped, crossing my arms defensively. “I’m exactly the same as I was before.”

Oscar’s grin widened, clearly enjoying the effect his words had on me. “Sure, if you say so. But the girl who almost took me down like a rugby player in the bathroom seemed a lot more fearless.”

My nose flared as I shot him a glare, feeling the fire of indignation rise within me. Who did he think he was, making assumptions about me? I’ll show him just how brave I can be, I thought, my fists clenching. If he wanted to see daring, then I’d make sure he regretted ever doubting me. The nerve of this guy! He might have been hot, but that didn’t give him the right to push my buttons like this.

Oscar gave me a lopsided grin, clearly pleased with himself. "Anyway, everyone’s heading downstairs to meet each other. Figured I’d let you know, since, you know, it’s probably not the best idea to hide out up here forever."

My stomach twisted with nerves at the thought of facing everyone after that humiliating encounter. The idea of meeting new people while still reeling from my disastrous introduction to Oscar was daunting. But there was no way I was going to let him see how nervous I actually was. I took a deep breath, nodding stiffly. "Fine, let’s get this over with."

As we walked out of the room and toward the stairs, I could feel Oscar’s presence behind me—large, imposing, and annoyingly close. My face heated up, and I silently cursed myself for blushing yet again. Why did this guy have to make everything so difficult?

It was like shooting a sitting duck. A little small talk, a smile, and baby, I was stuck. I was a grown woman, for god’s sake, not some teenager swooning over a crush. But there I was, getting flustered over a guy I barely knew. Get a grip, I told myself, trying to shake off the absurdity of the situation. This wasn’t supposed to happen—I wasn’t supposed to be this easily charmed.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, I hesitated, gripping the railing a little longer than usual. I could feel Oscar’s gaze on me, and it only made my nerves worse. Just as I was about to take the first step down, his hand brushed against mine. The contact was brief but enough to send a jolt of awareness through me. His hand was rough with calluses, moderately enveloping mine in a way that felt both comforting and disarming.

What was it about this guy that made me feel so uncharacteristically off-balance? As I tried to steady my racing thoughts, I reminded myself that I had to keep it together. After all, I wasn’t about to let some smooth-talking Aussie turn me into a lovesick fool—no matter how much my traitorous heart seemed to enjoy the challenge.

As I reached the bottom of the stairs, my eyes were drawn to two adults who were deep in conversation with my mom. Their warm, friendly demeanor and unmistakable Australian accents told me they were Oscar’s parents. They seemed just as lively and outgoing as he was, which only added to the strangeness of this entire situation.

Then, I spotted Oscar’s siblings—a trio of sisters who looked like carbon copies of him, yet each had her own distinct vibe, like different fonts of the same typeface. They were laughing and joking with each other, their bond evident in the way they effortlessly engaged in light-hearted banter. I felt a pang of envy, wishing I had siblings to share that kind of closeness with.

My daydream was abruptly shattered when Oscar’s large, warm hand clasped onto my shoulder, his fingers pressing gently but firmly against my skin. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, making me jump slightly as a flush of heat rushed to my cheeks. His chuckle, deep and amused, rumbled behind me, the sound wrapping around me like a teasing caress. He was standing on the step just above me, close enough that I could feel his breath on the back of my neck. His presence was unmistakably felt—broad, solid, and way too close for comfort, yet somehow not close enough.

His fingers lingered on my shoulder, almost as if he was testing my reaction, and I could feel the warmth radiating from his touch, seeping into my skin. The space between us seemed to shrink with every passing second, and I could barely concentrate on anything but the weight of his hand and the steady beat of my heart hammering in my chest.

Oscar leaned in slightly, his voice low and smooth as honey. “Jumpier than I thought,” he drawled, his tone dripping with playful mischief. “Didn’t take you for the shy type. Especially not after our little bathroom tango.” His grin widened, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a way that was both infuriating and ridiculously charming.

My pulse quickened at the way he was looking at me—those eyes sparkling with amusement, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. I swallowed hard, my mind racing to come up with a retort, but all I could focus on was how his hand, still resting on my shoulder, felt both protective and possessive. The air between us crackled with a tension that was impossible to ignore, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

I could quite literally cut the sexual tension with the dullest fucking butterknife in the world.

I tried to muster a sharp retort, something that would wipe that smug grin off his face, but my brain was too busy short-circuiting to cooperate. All I could manage was a stuttered, “I-I’m not shy! You just—caught me off guard, that’s all.” The words tumbled out, weak and unconvincing, and I mentally cringed at how feeble they sounded.

Oscar’s grin only grew, clearly enjoying my flustered state. He leaned in a little closer, his gaze locked on mine with a playful intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “Off guard, huh?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. “So, you’re saying if I hadn’t surprised you, you’d be able to keep up?”

I opened my mouth to respond, determined to regain some semblance of dignity, but nothing clever came out. Instead, I just stood there, caught between wanting to pull away from his teasing and feeling inexplicably drawn to his warmth. His hand slid from my shoulder, and the absence of his touch left a surprising chill in its wake.

Realizing that my window for a comeback was closing, I finally managed to sputter, “Y-Yeah, exactly.” I immediately cursed myself for sounding so pathetic. Not exactly the sharp comeback I was hoping for. His smirk deepened, and I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Oscar replied, his tone still dripping with amusement. He straightened up, giving me a quick wink before stepping down to the next stair. The playful glint in his eyes told me he knew exactly how much he was getting under my skin, and he was loving every second of it.

As he moved past me, I finally found my voice—too little, too late—and muttered under my breath, “Cocky bastard.” But it was quiet enough that I hoped he didn’t hear it. To my dismay, Oscar paused, turning back with a raised eyebrow and an even wider grin.

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Care to repeat it?”

My cheeks flamed as I quickly shook my head. “Nope, nothing. Let’s just… go meet everyone.”

Oscar’s grin didn’t falter as he took a step closer, still looming above me. “You know,” he began, his voice casual but with that familiar teasing edge, “I’ve already met everyone else. Your mom, too. And I’ve gotta say, you two seem like complete opposites.”

I blinked up at him, caught off guard again. “Opposites?”

He nodded, leaning against the wall with that effortless ease he seemed to have perfected. “Yep. Your mom’s all smiles and warm welcomes. You, on the other hand… well, you’ve got this whole ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe going on.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to gauge whether he was being serious or just messing with me again. “I do not have a ‘ready to throw punches’ vibe.”

Oscar’s lips twitched like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, you totally do. But don’t worry,” he added with a playful smirk, “it’s kind of endearing. Keeps things interesting.”

I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Glad to know I’m so entertaining for you.”

He shrugged, unfazed. “Hey, I’m just saying, opposites attract, right? Besides, your mom already likes me. You could take a few notes.”

His comment sent a fresh wave of warmth to my cheeks, both from irritation and something I couldn’t quite place. “I don’t need notes from you,” I shot back, though my voice lacked its usual bite.

Oscar just chuckled, giving me one last teasing wink before turning to head down the stairs. “Whatever you say, mate. Just try not to tackle anyone else while you’re at it.”

"Well well well, what do we have here?" A girl with short hair and a devious grin matching Oscar's grinned at me as well entered the kitchen. Shimmering her hands like "jazz hands", she rolled her eyes and rested her chin in the palm of her hand.

I turned to face the new arrival, immediately recognizing her as one of Oscar’s sisters—one of the three siblings who seemed to share his penchant for mischief. Her cropped hair and sharp, playful eyes made her look like she’d just stepped out of a rom-com where she was the resident troublemaker, always stirring the pot and having a laugh at everyone else’s expense.

“Hey, party people,” she said, her voice dripping with a teasing lilt. She shot me a grin that was almost a mirror image of Oscar’s, mischievous and knowing, like she was in on some inside joke I hadn’t been let in on yet. I could feel the same heat from before creeping up my neck. Why did it feel like these siblings were reading me like an open book?

“Looks like someone’s already made a grand entrance,” she continued, flicking her eyes between me and Oscar with an amused smirk. “Oscar’s been talking about you nonstop since we got here. Said something about a ‘bathroom fiasco’ that deserves an award?”

I shot a glare at Oscar, who was leaning casually against the counter, looking far too pleased with himself. “Did he now?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady despite the mortification clawing at me.

The girl laughed, light and musical, but with an edge that told me she was fully enjoying every bit of this. “Oh yeah, he’s been filling us in. But don’t worry, we’re used to his tall tales. I’m Hattie, by the way,” she added, extending a hand with exaggerated enthusiasm as if we were meeting on the set of a game show rather than in my kitchen.

I hesitated for a beat before shaking her hand, trying to muster a smile that didn’t look too forced. “Nice to meet you, Hattie. I’m—”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she interrupted, her grin widening. “You’re the girl who almost took out my brother. Honestly, I’m impressed. No one’s ever managed to knock him off his game quite like that.”

I glanced at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an infuriatingly smug look on his face. Maisie’s comment hung in the air, both a compliment and a lighthearted jab. I couldn’t help but feel like I was once again the butt of some inside joke between the siblings.

“Yeah, well, it’s a special talent of mine,” I said, trying to sound casual but feeling like every word was being scrutinized. “Guess I just have that effect.”

Hattie laughed, the sound bright and unapologetically amused. “Oh, I like you already. But hey, if you’re gonna hang out with us, you better be ready for a little friendly chaos. And maybe a few more unexpected collisions.”

Oscar gave a soft snort of laughter, and I could feel his eyes still on me, assessing, teasing, and—annoyingly—almost impressed. I tried to ignore the butterflies that seemed to be staging a full-on rebellion in my stomach. Clearly, this family thrived on playful torment, and I had somehow found myself right in the middle of it.

“Don’t worry,” I said, straightening up and forcing a confident smile. “I think I can handle whatever you guys throw at me.”

Hattie's eyes sparkled with mischief, and she gave me a mock salute. “That’s the spirit. Welcome to the chaos, mate.”

Oscar chuckled again, giving me that damn wink before pushing off from the counter. “Oh, she’s ready for it. Trust me, she’s already made quite the impression.”

The other two girls strolled in, each with their own distinct energy that filled the room. One had a fierce, confident look, dark hair tied up in a messy bun, and a leather jacket that screamed ‘cooler-than-you’ vibes. The youngest, a curly-haired, bright-eyed whirlwind, practically bounced into the kitchen, her infectious smile lighting up the space.

“So,” I said, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the sudden influx of new faces. “I’ve met Oscar, obviously, and… Hattie, right?” I glanced at the girl who had first greeted me, who nodded with a playful smile. “But I’m afraid I haven’t gotten your names yet,” I continued, pointing between the other two sisters.

The girl with the leather jacket gave me a wry grin, leaning casually against the counter. “I’m Edie,” she said, her voice dripping with casual confidence. “The cooler, smarter middle child.”

Mae, the youngest, immediately chimed in, rolling her eyes at her sister. “And I’m Mae, the fun one,” she said with a giggle, her curls bouncing as she hopped up onto a stool. “Edie’s just mad she wasn’t born with my charm.”

Edie snorted, pretending to be offended. “Please, you’re like a tiny tornado of chaos. But yeah, I guess she’s not wrong,” she added, shooting me a smirk. “Mae’s got a way of making everything a little… livelier.”

I couldn’t help but smile at their playful back-and-forth. “Nice to officially meet you all. And thanks for the heads-up on your brother’s antics,” I said, glancing at Oscar, who was watching the exchange with an amused glint in his eye.

“Oh, trust me,” Hattie added, her grin widening as she nudged Oscar with her elbow. “We’ve got years of experience keeping this one in line. You’re welcome to join the effort.”

Oscar threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Wow, ganging up on me already? This is why I never bring girls home,” he joked, though there was a hint of genuine warmth in his voice, like he was more than used to—and secretly enjoyed—their teasing.

Mae leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just wait till we start telling you all the embarrassing stories. Oscar’s got quite a few, and we’ve got no problem spilling the tea.”

Oscar smirked, shifting his weight just enough to close the distance between us, his presence suddenly feeling a lot closer, a lot warmer. He leaned in with a casual ease, his movements smooth and unhurried, as if he had all the time in the world to make me squirm. His voice dropped into a playful, low tone, rich and velvety, each word dripping with deliberate charm. “Oh, don’t worry about them,” he murmured, his gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that made my heart skip a beat. “I’d much rather hear your stories. You’re far more interesting than anything they could say about me.”

The way he looked at me was like I was the only person in the room, his eyes lingering on mine with a bold, flirtatious glint that sent a shiver down my spine. His grin was maddeningly confident, a little crooked, and devastatingly irresistible—the kind of smile that made it clear he knew exactly what he was doing. It was teasing, suggestive, and far too charming for its own good, like he was daring me to blush, daring me to react.

I felt the heat creeping up my neck, a slow burn that spread across my cheeks, making my skin prickle with the sudden awareness of how close he was. My mind scrambled for something clever to say, but his flirtatious tone, the way his eyes roved over my face as if he was reading every reaction, left me tongue-tied. It was like he was peeling back layers with just a look, searching for the part of me that he could fluster with a few well-placed words and that infuriating smile.

I tried to steady my breath, but his proximity was overwhelming. I could catch the faint scent of his cologne—fresh, with a hint of something spicy—and the subtle shift of his body as he leaned closer sent my senses into overdrive. Every nerve seemed to hum in response to his nearness, and I could feel my face burning hotter, betraying me with every second that I failed to look away.

Edie made a gagging noise, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Ew, Oscar, seriously? Can you not flirt for like five seconds? It’s embarrassing.”

Mae giggled, giving Oscar a playful shove. “Yeah, gross. No one wants to see that. Save it for when we’re not around, Romeo.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she watched Oscar with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “He’s always like this. Thinks he’s Mr. Smooth. Don’t let him get to you.”

But Oscar only chuckled, clearly unfazed by his sisters’ teasing. He turned back to me, his grin widening as he caught sight of my flushed cheeks. “Aww, look at that,” he said, his voice soft and teasing. “Did I make you blush? How cute.”

I quickly tried to hide my face, mortification bubbling up as I realized there was no escaping the heat radiating from my cheeks. “N-No, you didn’t,” I stammered, though the pink tint on my face said otherwise.

Oscar’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in just a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re not very good at hiding it, you know. It’s kind of endearing.”

I could practically feel my cheeks getting even more red, if that was even possible. His sisters snickered behind us, enjoying the show as much as they enjoyed tormenting him.

Mae nudged Hattie, whispering loud enough for everyone to hear, “He’s really laying it on thick, huh? Someone needs to put a leash on this one.”

Hattie snickered and turned to me, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Don’t worry, he does this to everyone. It’s part of his ‘charm offensive.’ Just don’t let him get away with it too easily.”

“Yeah, make him work for it,” Edie added with a laugh. “And don’t let that blush fool you. He’s got enough of an ego without you feeding it.”

Oscar just shrugged, clearly unbothered by his sisters’ ribbing. He kept his eyes on me, his smile softening just slightly. “They’re just jealous because they know I’m right. You really are something else.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to fight the smile that was creeping onto my face despite my best efforts. “You’re impossible,” I muttered, crossing my arms in an attempt to compose myself.

Oscar leaned back, finally giving me a bit of space but not without one last wink. “Impossible’s my specialty,” he said, the playful challenge hanging in the air.

Hattie clapped her hands together, breaking the charged silence that had wrapped around us. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s change the scene before this kitchen gets any steamier,” she said with a sly grin, glancing between Oscar and me. “What do you say we all head out to the pool? It’s hot as hell today, and I could use a swim.”

Mae’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, and she bounced on her toes with excitement. “Yes, please! I’ve been dying to jump in all morning. Come on, it’ll be fun.”

Edie shrugged, pushing off the counter. “Sounds like a plan. Beats sitting around here watching Oscar make a fool of himself,” she said, shooting her brother a pointed look that he brushed off with a careless smirk.

I hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden change in plans. The thought of the pool—cool water, bright sun, and lounging with these new, vibrant personalities—was tempting, but my mind immediately jumped to what that would mean: changing into a bikini, being under the sun's scrutiny, and, worse, the idea of Oscar’s eyes on me again, but this time with even less to hide behind.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” I said, trying to sound casual, though my heart was starting to race for an entirely different reason now. “Just give me a minute to get changed.”

As I slipped back into my room, I rummaged through my suitcase, finding the bright bikini I had packed on a whim but hadn’t quite planned on wearing in front of a whole audience of strangers. It was a pretty number—a little more revealing than I was used to—but suddenly, the idea of wearing it around Oscar felt daunting. My insecurities bubbled up: the nagging thoughts of whether my stomach was flat enough, if my thighs looked alright, or if the faint stretch marks I tried so hard to ignore would be too noticeable under the bright afternoon sun.

I took a deep breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror. I tugged at the fabric, trying to adjust it in a way that made me feel more comfortable, but the nerves wouldn’t settle. I could already imagine Oscar’s eyes lingering on me, his playful smirk turning into something more appraising, and the thought sent a rush of heat to my cheeks. God, why was I letting this get to me? It was just a pool. Just a bikini. Just Oscar. But the more I tried to rationalize, the more those little fears crept in, whispering doubts that made my stomach churn.

I was so lost in my own thoughts, adjusting and readjusting the strings and trying to silence the negative self-talk, that I nearly jumped out of my skin when a sudden knock rattled my door. My heart leaped into my throat, and I spun around, my breath catching as I called out, “W-Who is it?”

“It’s me,” came Oscar’s familiar voice, muffled but still clear enough to send a jolt of nerves through me. “Just checking to see if you’re alright in there. You’ve been quiet, and, well, didn’t want you chickening out on us.”

His tone was light, but there was something softer in it, something that caught me off guard. It wasn’t the usual teasing or the cocky one-liners I’d grown accustomed to in the short time I’d known him. This felt… genuine. A flicker of concern threaded through his words, almost like he actually cared if I was okay. My cheeks flushed anew, this time from the unexpected warmth of his attention rather than embarrassment.

I sat on the edge of the bed, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my cover-up as I tried to piece together my swirling thoughts. Was this the same Oscar who had been smirking at me in the kitchen, flirting shamelessly in front of his sisters? The same Oscar who seemed to relish every moment he made me blush or stumble over my words? It was strange, almost disarming, to hear him like this—concerned, attentive, with none of his usual bravado.

My heart fluttered at the thought. What if there was more to him than just the cheeky guy who lived for teasing? I couldn’t help but feel a small, unexpected tug in my chest, an urge to believe that this side of him was real and not just some act. But then, just as quickly, my rational side kicked in, reminding me that I’d known Oscar for all of three hours, most of which had been spent flustered and caught up in his whirlwind of charm.

Was I reading too much into this? Was I letting my own insecurities and wishful thinking color my perception of him? It was hard not to, especially when he swung so easily between flirty and sincere, keeping me constantly off-balance. I barely knew this guy, yet here I was, letting my mind wander into dangerous territory, imagining depth and sincerity that might not even be there.

I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to steady my thoughts. I didn’t want to jump to conclusions—didn’t want to let a few kind words make me think I’d seen some hidden side of him. But it was hard not to feel flustered when his voice had softened like that, when he’d taken the time to check on me instead of just joking about how long I was taking.

The knock on my door, the concern in his tone—it all felt so different from the playful Oscar who’d swaggered into my life just a few hours ago. Maybe it was nothing, just a moment of decency, a brief glimpse of something real behind the jokes and teasing. Or maybe I was just overthinking, desperate to see something more in him because he’d managed to get under my skin in a way I wasn’t quite prepared for.

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up once more as the realization hit me—I was blushing again, and not just from embarrassment this time. There was something about Oscar, something that made me want to believe he was more than the carefree charmer he projected. But whether that was true or just wishful thinking, I couldn’t be sure. Not yet.

“I-I’m fine!” I called back, trying to steady my voice, but it came out shaky, betraying the mix of anxiety and embarrassment that had settled in my chest. “Just… getting ready.”

There was a pause on the other side of the door, long enough that I thought he might have walked away. But then, Oscar’s voice cut through again, softer this time, and with a teasing edge. “You sure? I promise no one’s gonna judge you out there. Least of all me.”

The reassurance felt sincere, but I couldn’t help the way my mind raced with all the what-ifs. What if he did look? What if I didn’t look good enough? What if this stupid bikini made me feel more exposed than I could handle? I glanced at myself one last time in the mirror, trying to summon the confidence that I usually wore so easily, but right now felt like it was hiding somewhere I couldn’t reach.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I finally managed, forcing a smile I hoped he couldn’t hear through the door. “Just... give me a sec. I’ll be right out.”

“Take your time,” Oscar said, his voice fading as he finally moved away from the door. “But don’t take too long. You don’t wanna miss the fun.”

As his footsteps retreated, I let out a shaky breath, trying to collect myself. I ran a hand through my hair, giving myself one last pep talk before heading out. It was just a pool day, I reminded myself. Just a stupid pool day with some new people and a guy who was way too good at making me blush. And maybe, just maybe, it would be fun—if I could get out of my own head long enough to let it be.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09

[agere-fics]

cg!logan just shushing his fussy little. "shh shh I know kiddo. I know" with back rubs and ugh I think I just need to be shushed and cooed at right now

pairing: old man!cg!logan x little!reader

CWs: some angst, reader has a meltdown, but logan comforts them

word count: 0.6k

♡

you don't even know how you made it back home. it's even more surprising you made it back safe and sound. you were too lost in the void that is your mind, thinking of your past, your future, things that have gone wrong, stuff that still needed to be done. the present, your current reality wasn't anywhere near your consciousness. the entire trip home, your surroundings were fuzzed, voices were muted, the world dimmed.

why must it be so hard to just live, to be an adult? why were you so incapable of adulting?

you stood at the door frame, just standing there. your bag had fallen from your shoulder, landing on your elbow. your eyes were glazed over. nothing mattered anymore. you were gone.

you heard something, perhaps the freezer ice cube maker going off or the a/c turning on. it was fizzy and soft, barely there.

you heard it again. this time it was louder. it was coming from only a few feet away from somewhere out there.

blurred black spots came into view. it shocked your core and made you blink, the puzzle pieces linking themselves together. the black spots turned out to be black, leather shoes. large ones.

"daddy?" you slowly looked up, making eye contact with Logan. you didn't even realize you were speaking. "daddy…" your lip quivered. one tear flew down, then another… and another. they came out faster and faster until you had niagara falls on your face.

"hey there, bub, come here, come here." your daddy pulled you against him. you grabbed his white button down in tight fists and made a puddle of tears on his left shoulder. "it's okay, kiddo. i'm here."

"i'msorryi'msosorrydaddy!" you bawled. "'m sorry…" you squeezed your eyes shut and buried yourself deep into his chest. you held him tightly, so tightly you thought you'd melt into him.

"it's alright, pumpkin. i'm not mad. it's okay, you're okay." he mumbled into the top of your head, planting kisses on your temples and forehead. "sh, sh, sh, sh, sh." he rubbed your back. "it's okay, darling. you're safe, i'll take care of ya. shh, shh, shh." he let you cry, you needed this, he knew.

logan bent his knees a bit to reach his arm underneath your knees. he cradled you in his arms and brought you to the grey, leather couch. you buried your head in his neck, breathing in the comforting smell of his sandalwood fragrance. you commented one time on how much you liked it and now he never went without it.

he gently scratched your scalp and continued placing smooshes to your brow. "what happened today, bub?" he asked once you calmed a bit.

"i don' know, daddy. i jus', jus… idonknow-" your breathing began to quicken again.

Logan shushed and bounced you on his lap. "it's okay, you don't have to talk about it right now, pumpkin. breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out, bub, there you go. good job." he dragged your designated, fluffy couch blanket on top of you and loaded up soft lullabies on spotify. he remembered fondly how you showed him the app and your favorite safe stuff on there. he didn't care about newer technology stuff but after you told him how much it helped you, he was determined to learn them.

you fell asleep on his lap after about an hour. your daddy fell asleep, too. your weight on him was soothing, as was your music. you were so peaceful, it made him nod off.

daddy would always be there for you to keep you safe, keep you happy, and to comfort you. he was the best daddy ever.

♡

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

A little help from my friend -Oneshot

@talesofreading I'm sorry it took me so long to get this done for you! I hope you like it. Happy belated birthday darling. Word count: 3880

“For fuck’s sake,” Y/N grunted as she walked into the Avengers communal kitchen and common room area.  She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a protein drink and some food to make a quick breakfast.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wanda piped up from the kitchen table.  The other Avengers were all milling about, getting their own breakfasts before heading out or training.  Y/N had an early morning training with the recruits most days, so she often missed the communal breakfast meals.

“Nothing,” Y/N sighed.

“Don’t make me read your mind,” Wanda warned.

Y/N glared at her, and Wanda glared back.  Their conversation got the attention of the other Avengers in the area.  “It’s not a big deal,” Y/N continued.  “One of the new recruits is just a little…too interested in me personally,” she said, turning back to the counter.

Wanda frowned.  “What happened?”

Steve, Sam and Bucky all listened carefully, slowly eating their breakfasts.  Y/N was suddenly very aware of everyone in the area.  “It’s really not a big deal–”

“It is if it’s bothering you, Y/N,” Steve spoke up, all Captain America at that moment.  “Especially if it’s affecting your job or you feeling safe.”

Y/N smiled at him appreciatively.  “I can handle myself, Cap,” she said.  

“Never said you couldn’t,” he retorted.  “But if we can nip it in the bud with this recruit–”

“He just keeps asking for my number, okay?” Y/N said, waving away everyone’s concern.  “And…cornering me after training.  It’s fine.  I can handle it,” she said, finishing preparing her food and cleaning up after herself.

“What’s his name?” Bucky asked.

Everyone turned to him in surprise.  Y/N had worked with him multiple times on missions and talked with him regularly, becoming good friends, but this still surprised her.  Bucky rarely joined the conversation unless prompted.  He was very low key and kept to himself most of the time.  So him looking at her with such an intense look and asking a question was a shock.  She stared at him with wide eyes.  “Tyler,” she replied.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  “Whitacre,” she finished.  

Bucky nodded and looked down, finishing his breakfast.  Nobody said a word as Y/N quickly gathered her food and left the kitchen.  She shook her head at herself once she reached her room to eat then shower.  She’d been growing some pretty strong feelings toward Bucky for a while now, but tamped them down deep in her heart.  He didn’t need some lovesick coworker to deal with.  He just needed friends as he integrated into regular life.  There was no way he’d feel the same toward her…would he?

***

“Today we’ll be starting gun training,” Y/N announced to her training group.  There was an excited whispered chatter from the recruits at her words.  “I could teach you myself, but I thought I’d bring in the expert of all experts in this field.  I expect you to shut up, listen, and give him the respect he deserves.  Our guest trainer is Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky was already walking into the training room as she introduced him, his face hard and stoic as it always was in these environments.  The recruits clapped for him as he stood next to Y/N.  “Thank you, Agent Y/L/N,” he greeted her then turned to the recruits.  “Let’s see what you got.”

After a rigorous training, where Bucky really broke down a few recruits and built them back up, each of their shots getting better by the end, they all left exhausted.  Bucky stayed behind, cleaning up the guns used for the training with Y/N when Tyler approached her.  “Hey Y/N,” he said, sidling up to her far too close for her liking.  

“Agent Whitacre,” she greeted him, giving him a polite but tight smile.  “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Ah come on, Y/N, I told you to call me Tyler,” he smirked at her.

“And I told you to call me Agent Y/L/N,” she replied, her eyes narrowing in warning.

Tyler’s face had a flash of annoyance before his smirk came back.  “Right.  Well, you ran off last time before I got a chance to ask you–”

“Once again, Agent, I’m flattered, but no thank you,” Y/N said hastily, turning away and closing another case of guns.  “I’ll see you next training.”

Tyler followed her as she walked away to the locker room to put the case away in the gun lockers.  She carefully put things away and turned to find him cornering her.  “Don’t be like that Y/N…” he started, taking another step toward her, his arms reaching up to cage her against the wall.

A loud bang made them both jump as Tyler whipped around to see Bucky who had set down another gun case sharply, glaring at Tyler.  He slowly approached, his eyes never leaving Tyler like he was hunting him.  He swerved around him at the last second, making Tyler flinch, then focused on Y/N as he inserted himself between them.  He reached his metal hand out and wrapped it around the back of her neck, angling her head up as he leaned down and kissed her deeply.  Y/N inhaled sharply, stiffening against him as she heard Tyler scoff.  The kiss ended too soon, Y/N barely kissing him back before Bucky pulled away and looked down at her.  “You good, Sweets?” he asked quietly, but just loud enough for Tyler to hear.

“Yeah,” Y/N whispered, staring up at him in shock.

Bucky looked her over then turned to Tyler, keeping himself as a shield in front of Y/N.  “Respect the no, recruit,” he said lowly.  “And your form is shit.  Work on that before next time or I’ll make an example of you in front of everyone.”

Tyler swallowed harshly, his lips tight and his eyes wide as he minutely nodded.  “Yes sir,” he said.  He glanced at Y/N then walked quickly out of the locker room, running once he’d got past the door frame.

Bucky watched him leave, then turned back to Y/N.  He had an unreadable expression as they stared at each other for what felt like forever.  “Just tell me if he bothers you anymore,” he said, then turned and left.

Y/N stared after him incredulously.  Her fingers lifted to her mouth, his kiss still searing on her lips, the feeling of his metal fingers holding her firmly but gently on the back of her neck as his thumb caressed her jaw tingling her skin.  What the fuck just happened?

***

The gun training lasted two more training sessions, and every time at the end of class Bucky would linger behind with Y/N to clean up, then make a small show of kissing her in front of Tyler as he was leaving.  It took her by surprise each time, Bucky coming from seemingly nowhere and with no preamble, just kissing the living daylights out of her, calling her “Sweets,” then walking away like nothing happened.  Once the gun training was over Tyler didn’t even look her way anymore unless he had to.  So Bucky’s little plan had worked, but now Y/N was confused.  And worse, she craved him even more.

Three weeks later Y/N and Bucky were on a mission together.  It was surveillance on a potential target that was dealing in high power weaponry.  Y/N and Bucky had barely spoken to each other since that last gun training, exchanging brief greetings and farewells as they passed each other in the hallway.  The other Avengers had given some side-eyed looks, since Y/N and Bucky had normally been pretty friendly before, but no one commented on it otherwise.  Now she was stuck with him in close quarters for the next week as they gathered as much information about the target as possible.

She woke up from her turn sleeping, getting ready for the day and approaching Bucky who was sitting by the window in the small apartment they were staying in.  He hadn’t moved from the spot since she’d gone to bed hours before.  “Anything?” she asked quietly.  

“Another prostitute,” Bucky replied, standing and stretching as she took his place by the window.  “Otherwise nothing worth noting.”

“How lovely,” Y/N scoffed.  She got herself comfortable and looked through the scope Bucky had propped on the windowsill.  The view into the opposite apartment where the target stayed was pristine.  “He didn’t leave the blinds open, did he?” she asked, looking up at him.

“He did,” Bucky grimaced.  

“Jesus,” Y/N winced.  “You got quite the show.”

“Not really.  He only lasted about two minutes.”

Y/N laughed loudly at that.  “Poor girl,” she giggled, wiping her eyes and looking through the scope again.  “At least she was paid.”

Bucky chuckled and started walking towards the bedroom.  “Let me know if anything changes, Sweets.”

Y/N stiffened and before she could stop herself she grunted, “Don’t call me that.”

Bucky stopped and looked back at her.  Y/N kept her gaze in the scope, her face flushing with embarrassment.  She hadn't meant to say it out loud.  But who did he think he was to use the same pet name that he’d used in a fake “situationship” to help her get away from some creep and then use it in everyday life?  Like he hadn’t rocked her world three times over?  She heard his footsteps come back towards her, then the shuffle of his clothes as he kneeled down beside her.  “Why not?” he asked.

Y/N breathed heavily, trying to calm her thundering heart.  She kept her gaze in the scope, her hands tightening to fists in her lap.  “No one to save me from,” she said nonchalantly.

Bucky suddenly gripped her arm and pulled her to face him.  She gasped lightly as he manhandled her, moving so he was kneeling between her legs, bringing his face close to hers and taking her hands in his.  His eyes were piercing as he stared at her.  “That’s not it,” he said.  “Tell me why not?”

Y/N blinked rapidly.  “That is the reason,” she whispered.

Bucky shook his head.  “I can tell when people lie, Sweets.  Try again.”

Y/N shut her eyes tight.  “Please stop calling me that.”

She felt Bucky’s metal fingers caress her cheek and back into her hair, holding her head like he did when he kissed her.  She fought back the shiver at the coolness of metal, not wanting to give away just how badly she wanted this man.  Y/N heard and felt his breath fanning her face as he leaned in closer.  His nose brushed along her cheek, his lips ghosting close to the side of her lips.  “I can’t, Y/N.  You taste too sweet,” he murmured.

Y/N whimpered, and without warning tears pricked at her eyes.  She shook her head and pushed him away, standing and walking toward the bedroom.  “I can’t do this,” she nearly sobbed.

“Woah, wait, Y/N!” Bucky called out to her.  She tried closing and locking the bedroom door but he stopped it with his foot.  “Hey, don’t run away from me,” he grunted, pushing the door back open and looking at her in surprise.  “I’m sorry–”

“Please just leave me alone,” Y/N sighed, wiping her eyes and turning away from him.

“Y/N,” he said, sounding wounded.  “Talk to me.”

“How am I supposed to talk to you?” She was suddenly angry, turning back to face him with a glare.  “You decided the best way to help me with a creepy recruit was to publicly claim me in front of him and who knows how many others by kissing me?  And not just once, but three times?  Calling me a cute pet name?  Do you enjoy giving people false hope and then walking away because it means nothing to you?  And expect us to go back to normal?  What the fuck, Barnes?”

Bucky recoiled at her using his last name.  “I’m sorry,” he repeated.  “I…I should have talked to you beforehand, and not just done it.  That wasn’t fair, I’m sorry.”  Y/N crossed her arms, holding herself as she fought back more tears.  He took a step closer.  “And then I was a coward and didn’t talk to you about it afterwards, either.  God, I’m an idiot,” he grumbled, running his flesh hand over his face harshly.  “I…I really like you, Y/N.  I’m sorry I went about this totally wrong.  I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Y/N stared at him for a long moment then nodded.  “Thank you.  I forgive you,” she said.  

Bucky watched her sadly.  “Can I…can we start over?” he asked hopefully.

Y/N couldn’t stop the small smile spreading on her lips.  “Sure,” she said.  

He smiled and stepped toward her again.  He took a deep breath and licked his lips.  “I like you, as much more than just a friend.”

“I like you, too,” Y/N said quickly.

Bucky’s smile widened.  “Once we get home, can I take you out on a proper date?”

“Yes,” she said.

***

A week later they were coming home from a proper, successful date.  Bucky was quite the gentleman, taking her to a nice restaurant in the city, then a solo night tour (probably courtesy of Tony) through The Metropolitan Museum of Art.  They grabbed some dessert on the way home, talking the whole time as they snacked on the treat.  Bucky had kept a hand on her at all times, whether it was on her back as he guided her around or holding her hand as they walked.  They got off the elevator and Bucky walked her to her bedroom door.  

“Thank you for going out with me,” he said, standing toe to toe with her.

“Thank you,” Y/N said.  “I’ve never had such a fun first date.”

“Really?  Wow, I’ll have to up the ante next time,” Bucky smirked, his flesh hand reaching up and playing with the tips of her hair.

“Next time?” Y/N arched her eyebrow.  “You seem very sure of yourself.”

“I am,” Bucky said, leaning forward.  “But of course I’m a gentleman.”

“Of course,” Y/N teased.

“So…would you like to go out with me again?” he asked, his forehead resting against her forehead.  

Y/N pretended to think about it.  “Mmh, I’ll have to check my schedule, so for now it’s a tentative yes,” she smirked back at him.  

Bucky narrowed his eyes, his fingers moving from her hair to her jaw, tracing it lightly.  “A tentative yes?” he grumbled.  “I know you like to tease, but I’m gonna need an enthusiastic yes, Sweets.”

Y/N’s eyes slightly widened at the pet name.  He hadn’t called her that since they got back from the mission, and she actually missed hearing it from him.  She nodded.  “Yes, I’d like to go out with you again,” she reassured him.  

His smirk returned.  “Good girl, Sweets,” he said.  Y/N felt a shiver down her spine at his words.  His eyes flicked back and forth between her eyes, then glanced at her lips.  “Can I kiss you?”

Y/N nodded.  “Yes.”

Bucky’s metal hand gripped her by the back of the neck like the other times, his metal thumb sweeping over her cheek.  He leaned down and kissed her softly, not as firmly or passionately as the other times.  It was like he was trying to reassure her that this was real, and he wanted more than brief sexual tension.  And as much as she appreciated that, she craved what he’d given her before.  Y/N wrapped her arms around his waist, her nails digging into his back as she gripped his shirt under his jacket, angling her head to deepen the kiss.  Bucky moaned against her mouth at her urgency.

“I’m trying to be, mmh, a gentleman, Sweets,” he groaned, pulling away and lightly pecking her lips repeatedly.

“You can be a gentleman and fuck me at the same time,” Y/N mumbled.

Bucky huffed a sharp breath, like her words sucked the air right out of him and he sagged against her, pushing her into her bedroom door.  “Fuck, Y/N, you can’t say that to me,” he growled.  “God, you drive me fucking crazy.”

Y/N smiled as she kissed from his lips down to his neck.  “Your room or mine, handsome?”

Bucky moaned again and dipped down, picking her up and holding her by her thighs.  He turned around to his bedroom door that was across the hall and marched towards it as he kissed her deeply again.  He ripped the door open and kicked it shut behind them before pinning her against the door.  His knee pushed under her core to keep her lifted as his hands slid to her ass, feeling the cheeks of her ass as he opened his mouth, his tongue licking her lower lip and sucking on it.  Y/N shuddered and whimpered against his mouth.  Bucky gasped at the first noise he was able to pull from her.  “Let me hear you, Sweets.  God, you’re so good.”  His tongue plunged back into her mouth, tasting her tongue and moaning again.  “You feel so good…sound so good…taste so good,” he breathed.  

Y/N moaned at the rushed desperation in his movements.  Feeling so wanted, so needed, was making her lightheaded and feel like she was beaming.  Her hands moved to cup his face, scratching his beard then reaching up into his hair, scratching down his scalp.  That pulled a deep growl from his chest, his hips rutting up into her.  She hummed, smiling against his lips.  Bucky pulled her away from the door and carried her to his bed, laying her on it gently as he shrugged his jacket off.  

It was a flurry of clothes being pulled off and flung into corners of his room, limbs clambering over each other as they moved further up onto the bed, huffed gasps and whimpers.  Bucky nipped at her throat as he felt how wet and ready she was for him.  “Protection?” he asked.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, her nails scratching down his back.

Bucky smiled against the skin of her shoulder.  He aimed his cock at her entrance and started to slowly push inside.  Y/N’s head wrenched back and she gasped at the fill and stretch of him, and Bucky tucked his face into her breasts as her back arched, kissing and licking her nipples to help ease her.  “Fucking hell, Sweets,” he swore, looking up at her as she relaxed back into the bed when she was adjusted to him.  He gave her the first roll of his hips, making her tremble beneath him.  “So responsive,” he smirked.  

“Kinda hard not to be, with all this above me,” Y/N breathed, her hands sliding up his chest.  “You live up to your name, handsome.”  Bucky blushed, smiling bashfully at her.  “Aw, you’re so cute,” Y/N cooed at him, her hands reaching up to his face and pulling him down to kiss him sweetly.  “I’ll have to compliment you more often.”

Bucky’s hips thrusted again and her mouth dropped open in a silent moan.  “Quit teasing,” he said, licking into her mouth.  “As much as I love your flirty compliments, I really need to fuck you before I lose my mind.”

“Then fuck me!” Y/N said, rubbing her nose along his cheek.  “Please!”

Bucky inhaled deeply then started pummeling his hips into her.  Y/N’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and held on tight as he held her in a hug so her body wouldn’t be pushed up the bed at his thrusts.  He sucked and licked at her neck repeatedly, pulling more wanton moans from her at the mix of pain and pleasure, leaving as much bruising evidence for later as possible.  He kissed his way back up to her mouth where she easily opened up to him, their tongues swirling and nipping at each other’s lips.  It was never-ending and yet too short all at the same time as Y/N tried not to get lost in her head at the blinding pleasure.  Y/N sucked on his tongue and Bucky adjusted his position to snap his hips slightly more upward, which had her keening against his mouth.  “There it is,” he smirked, then continued his previous, frantic pace in that new direction.  He was hitting that deep spot inside every time, Y/N’s breaths becoming more short and hyperventilated as her head thrashed back and forth at the overwhelming pressure building in her gut.

“Buck…handsome, I’m gonna cum…ah!” Y/N yelped as Bucky sat up, his flesh fingers strumming her clit as his metal hand held her at the back of her neck like the other times he’d kissed her, but this time his grip was tighter, tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck.  He forced her head up to meet him halfway as he pushed their foreheads together.  

“Cum all over my cock, Sweets.  Let me feel you,” Bucky growled, staring deep into her eyes.  Y/N gasped again at his words, then finally felt the snap deep in her belly.  She screamed as she came, her hands gripping his biceps and her legs shaking over his hips as her pussy clamped down on him.  Bucky grunted, his eyes shutting tight as he continued thrusting, prolonging her orgasm as his fingers never let up on her clit.  “That’s it, fuck!” Bucky hissed between gritted teeth.  “Where can I cum, Sweets?”

“Anywhere you want,” Y/N huffed, her body still twitching with aftershocks.  She was so close to cumming again.  

“Holy shit, dirty girl, huh?” Bucky asked excitedly.  “You feel so good, I’m just gonna fill you up.  Is that okay?”

“Yyyyeessss,” Y/N groaned.

“Good girl, Sweets,” he praised her.  His hands gripped her hips tightly as he thrust even harder into her pussy, the sharp snaps making her jiggle and shake.  Y/N slipped a hand down and started rubbing her clit, her other hand gripping his wrist.  “Yeah, make yourself feel good.  You gonna cum again?  God, you’re so fucking beautiful, so pretty.  Prettiest pussy, Sweets.”  

Y/N shook harder as she felt her second orgasm barrel through her, her nerves feeling like they were on fire.  When she came Bucky moaned loudly, her pussy squeezing him beyond belief.  He finally came, continuing to thrust and fill her up until it dripped from between them and down their thighs to her ass.  “Bucky…” she huffed.

“Sorry, Sweets, I can’t help it,” Bucky shook above her, his cock still throbbing inside her.  “You squeeze me so good…and the serum makes everything, fuck…” he leaned down so his head rested on her chest.  “Makes everything more intense.”

“It’s okay, handsome,” Y/N smiled, her hands going to his hair and scratching his scalp, softly pulling at the strands.  He hummed at her gentle fingers’ caresses.  “We can just take a shower.”

Bucky hummed again, sounding more gravelly as he looked up at her.  “Dirty girl,” he smirked.

THE END

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

hello! This is my first time actually requesting anything so please bear with me ;-;

I would like to request a 5th lord! Reader x Donna, reader is also pretty shy and reclusive, spending most of her time hunting with her mutated hounds or quietly managing her villagers' troubles, but can be assertive and outspoken if needed, even standing up to mother Miranda if she feels she's being unfair with the others, though she'd much rather chill with her dogs or do paperwork and let others do the talking.

Reader and Donna are both on good terms with both of them managing to work up the courage to go hang out at the other's manors from time to time. It doesn't take long for their "good terms" to start evolving into something more romantic but both of them are dancing around confessing their feelings, scared that doing so might destroy the friendship they've worked so hard to built...

It takes a little encouragement from Alcina (and maybe a little teasing about how she "can stare mother Miranda down but now look Donna in the eye") but Reader manages to get over her fear and confess, much to Donna's relief and joy.

Yesss!!!!! This is your 1st time requesting? Welcome then :D!!! Thank you for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

The fifth one

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! 5th Lord (more or less)! Reader

Warnings: Fluff

Word count: 7,943

Summary: You're the fifth, but don't want to, you just want to love her...

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

You rolled your eyes at the commotion that was beginning to form in the old cathedral.

“Please, that chandelier over there is much more elegant than you,” one of the attendees at that meeting muttered, Alcina Dimitrescu who, was arguing with her brother, Karl Heisenberg.

“How unoriginal,” her brother said, with a cocky smile that slowly turned to you.

You shook your head, crossing your arms and looking away.

“Your presence clouds my ideas...” Alcina said, with a mocking smile.

“Relax, that's altitude sickness,” he said, arching his eyebrows.

“Who's next? Come on, come on, round of insults!” the sinister Angie doll shrieked, making you cover your ears.

“Oh, Gods…” the priestess who had won the favor of the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, murmured. “Silence!”

“He started it”

“She started it”

Both Lords protested in a childish manner, giving each other glances that, you were sure, had formed a barrier that, if you crossed it, you would burn without remedy.

“Well, now that you've finally shut your mouths, we can begin,” Miranda said, turning her head towards you, probably watching to make sure you were paying attention.

You were always the focus of her gaze, probably because that evil raven woman still didn't trust you.

Every time you attended, a sermon, or had to meet with the others for any boring matter, you wondered why you were there. Those people were descendants of the founders of the village, they were blessed by the Black Gods, you were not. You were quite different.

You were born without noble blood, without a great mansion or power.

Always introverted but with a tremendous desire to explore, you spent your childhood being not much more than the butcher, the blacksmith or the family of weavers. Your family, humble but well-off, was in charge of supplying the villagers with firewood or coal, raw materials that were still needed in that place.

It was an important job, but not a relevant one.

You were orphaned at an early age, left completely alone in that sinister house in the mountains. Loneliness was not a problem for you. You were never exactly a talkative or communicative girl.

But that introverted character clashed with your adventurous spirit, with the desire to know more about that strange cult, to know why the Black Gods only existed in that place.

That daring to find out the different reasons that led Mother Miranda to name herself a priestess seemed worth discovering.

In one of your explorations you got too brave. You watched the witch work in the laboratory, you tried to read the labels of those strange bottles.

You fell in front of the blonde with a resounding sound. You already thought that your life had come to an end. But apparently, Mother Miranda didn't see a sudden interest in ending the life of that stupid snooper, rather she saw you as a unique opportunity to continue investigating.

She didn't care about your screams or your struggles, she took what she wanted, experimenting on you, putting into your body what she herself said it was: the gift of the Gods.

Miranda was probably even more surprised when, after a time that you were still unable to determine, you opened your eyes.

You, who already believed that you would die, resurrected on that dirty stretcher to the surprise and pleasure of the golden witch.

You were still you, but somehow, you were no longer the same. The smells, the sounds... Everything entered your body in an almost overwhelming way. It was as if you had suddenly woken up, as if something had made your senses sharpen.

Of course, you were glad to still be alive, but you were scared.

Your weak body became a weapon. Your strength was no longer that of a simple villager. You had been reborn with the gift of the superhuman and you couldn’t complain.

You were a partial success, one of the few who survived the graft, a miracle. Your strength, your senses, everything had improved substantially but... The strangest thing of all was when you discovered what exactly you could do.

The lycans, those unfortunate villagers who weren't as lucky as you were, came after you in the middle of Miranda's tests. You were never a fighter, of course, even with your new strength, you were scared.

But the miracle happened again.

Apparently, Miranda noticed something that you didn't. Those drooling beasts didn't attack you, they didn't bother wasting time tearing your skin or devouring you. To them you were like something untouchable. You thought it was because of the parasite but once again Miranda told you it wasn't.

Complete control over the village beasts, that was your true new ability. A very useful ability, indeed, at least for that horrible woman.

Miranda's confidence was even more fleeting and cloudy than the Black Gods themselves. Her amazement also hid some fear. You were certainly strong. You could make all the monsters destroy the village with a snap of your fingers.

According to the witch, your status as an ordinary villager placed you in a strange limbo. Neither a Lord, nor a villager, simply, (Y/N). Power was something you didn’t want, but you couldn’t longer avoid it.

You became something like the fifth Lord. The meetings, the sermons... Everything required your presence as well as that of the rest of the noble families. So… Well, Lord or not, you were part of it.

You didn't have a coat of arms, you didn't have a noble background, but you sat next to them. The only thing that relieved you was that those monsters weren't your new siblings. That was the only difference between them and you, for everything else, to the villagers, the number five was always present when they saw you.

Hunting, doing paperwork, answering calls and requests from the villagers… That was your routine. Yes, you preferred solitude, the comfort of your cozy cabin in the woods but… Well, you couldn't complain, it wasn't that bad.

Luck or caution, those two words sailed through your thoughts from time to time. You wondered if Miranda granted you those privileges just because you survived or, on the contrary, she preferred to have you on her side instead of having you against her.

In the meetings, together with the rest of the Lords, you thought about it, you thought about how strong Miranda would be if you and all her children rebelled against her. If you don't feed a beast, it ends up devouring you.

“The Petrescu family have decided not to make the monthly offering to the Gods, let's see, come on, ideas...” Miranda said, moving her arms.

“If I remember correctly, they have a daughter, right?” Alcina intervened, immediately returning you to that boring meeting.

“Mm, it seems so,” Miranda commented, listlessly, nodding towards the lady of the castle.

“She will serve in my castle as payment,” the lady in white said.

It gave you a shiver.

“Oh, sure, of course,” Karl said, interrupting his sister, as always. “I'm sure she's dying to serve you.”

“Their eldest son is strong, he'll be a good experiment,” the deformed Moreau commented.

“No, no way,” you intervened, shaking your head. “I'm the one who has to take care of your experiments.”

“You should have a nursery!” the doll Angie said, laughing sinisterly.

You smiled and nodded, arching your eyebrows.

“Yes, good idea,” you said amused.

“Not again…” Miranda sighed, running her hand over her mask, with a threatening tone.

Well, you couldn't blame her for being fed up with these meetings, you were too.

“Let's see, what punishment do they deserve? One by one,” the witch hissed through her teeth, thus avoiding another uproar. “Let's see, (Y/N), let's start with you.”

“Mm,” you murmured thoughtfully. “I don't think they deserve punishment, Mother Miranda,” you said after a few seconds of meditation, causing all those sinister gazes to turn towards you.

“No?” the witch asked, in a low tone.

“No,” you said firmly. “The Petrescu family has had plagues in their crops and that's why they haven't been able to make the offering to the Gods.”

“But it is my will, (Y/N),” the priestess protested, getting a little closer to you. You didn't feel intimidated, not in the least.

“Yes, and it is also our duty to take care of the villagers but someone…” you explained, pointing timidly at Heisenberg. “Someone preferred to steal the entire shipment of special insecticide, so they were unable to control the plague.”

“Oh, are you implying that it was me?” the Lord asked, pointing at himself. “How bold.”

“I'm not implying anything, Karl,” you said amused.

“Well, there are some very large flies in the castle, I needed that shipment,” he murmured amused, making the lady in white growl.

“Stupid bastard,” Dimitrescu growled, clenching her fists.

“Silence… Silence…” Miranda hissed, visibly tired. “Then, (Y/N), according to you I should forgive them for their lack of faith.”

“Well,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “Punishing them for something we have not been able to remedy would be unfair.”

“You say I am unfair then,” the witch murmured, with a dangerous tone.

“In this case yes, you are, Mother Miranda,” you said without any fear.

Miranda stepped back, laughing sinisterly.

“Okay… I will forgive them,” she said, but lowering her tone as she looked at you again. “For now… Go away, the meeting is over.”

You all stood up silently and you sighed in relief, you could finally go home.

“Hey, you, newbie,” Karl said, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You have guts, huh? No one faces the witch without paying for it.”

“I believe in justice,” you murmured, feeling the cold of your skin as you left the cathedral. The Lord laughed amused, patting your back unpleasantly.

“How considerate…” he whispered. “Hey, come to my factory, there are some beers waiting for you.”

“Bah, not today, I have work to do,” you said, shaking your head.

Saying goodbye to your companions, you walked towards the last of them, towards the lady in black, who seemed to be waiting for you too. After all, her old estate was on the way to your cabin.

Lady Beneviento was a mysterious woman. Always silent, covered by that black veil… She was certainly the most interesting of the Lords.

Donna Beneviento was something like a silent friend. Everyone in the village feared her, but not you. Sick, psychopathic, deformed… You had heard so many things about this woman that you weren't sure if you believed them. In any case, she never showed any of that, in fact, you could say that in your silence there was something like a shy friendship.

You weren't a woman of many words. You enjoyed solitude just like she did. Maybe that's why you got along well.

Silence was the best of conversations, those discreet glances into your eyes, that shy laugh when you played with Angie to chain words together. Yes, you felt very comfortable with her, maybe too much.

But, even though you were shy, lately you tried to get some words out of that black veil, you were quite determined to hear her hoarse voice and not the usual squeals of the doll.

“So… How are your dolls?” you asked, walking slowly, making the lady turn around startled. It wasn’t common for you to break the silence without Angie around.

“Fine,” Donna whispered, with that hoarse voice, raspy from lack of use. Her voice was like a breeze, like a current of air that you couldn't see but you could feel.

“Great,” you murmured, lowering your head.

“How are your… Monsters?” she asked after a few awkward seconds in which you thought that talking to her was a bad idea.

“They’re fine,” you said the same way, nodding confidently.

“Monsters!” Angie repeated, breaking the calm of that little walk.

“Yes…” you sighed amused, winking at the doll, who laughed sinisterly. “Hey, Donna, what do you think of the Petrescu thing?” you asked the lady in black, having the strange need to talk.

“Cosa?” she asked, with an even softer voice, slowing down her steps to stand beside you, walking at the same pace as you.

“You know... That whole harvest thing,” you said timidly. “I honestly find it incredible that Miranda blames those poor villagers when she's supposed to be taking care of them.”

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, looking away. “You're taking too many risks.”

“Why do you say so? I say what I think,” you said, shaking your head.

“That's why you take the risk,” she commented, walking faster, reaching the wooden bridge that separated your world from hers. “Sometimes it's better to not say anything.”

“Oh, of course, that's your strategy, isn't it? I thought you were just a quiet woman,” you said amused, leaning on some rocks.

A soft laugh came from the lady in black, who also stopped.

“I am,” she whispered, moving the impatient Angie in her arms.

“I see…” you murmured, looking away embarrassedly. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too stupid.”

“Stupid for having a sense of justice?” she asked in a slightly clearer voice.

You shrugged exaggeratedly, spreading your arms.

“Maybe…” you sighed, looking at the cloudy sky. “Well, I guess we’ll see each other.”

“Yes, we’ll see each other,” the lady said passively, sighing uncomfortably.

“See you later,” you said, waving goodbye and jumping towards the mountain, a very big one.

“See you later, silly!” Angie shrieked, waving her arms in farewell, something you already saw from the top of the mountain.

“Hey, Angie, remember that you owe me 500 lei!” you shouted amused.

“That's a lie!” the doll protested. “Liar!”

“Next time try not to lose! You know that I am unbeatable in chess!” you said amused, earning a sinister laugh from the puppet, who said goodbye to you while the lady resumed her path.

You walked a little further through the forest until you reached your cabin, where some anxious barking alerted you.

“Oh, wait!” you shouted as your two favorite beasts launched themselves at you, covering you with licks. “Hey, okay, yeah, I missed you, guys!” you shouted amused, pushing the mutated dogs away from you. “Come on, it's time to eat.”

Routine fell upon you after that little interruption. Certainly, meetings weren't your favorite pastime, but after doing the same thing day after day, they were a relief.

Paperwork, calls from villagers begging you for some firewood, the occasional business with the Duke... It was all boring, but at the same time reassuring. Hunting with your dogs was the most fun thing you did, but even that became a tedious routine.

But, for some time now, a new hobby forced you to leave the safety of your cabin and look over the cliff.

Just below that great height, the Beneviento House stood, that strange place sheltered by a waterfall. At first you didn't give importance to the closeness you had with the lady in black, but... Little by little, that friendship grew, forcing you to keep an eye on her without wanting to.

Donna was like you, she didn't usually leave her house but, when she did, your heart started to beat strongly. A strange but interesting woman, that's what she was to you, apart from being a friend in a world of shadows. At least you liked to think that way.

Surely for her you were just a companion.

Lying in the snow, one that had long since stopped being cold for you, you observed the mansion, wondering what that woman was doing at that moment, if she would go out to take care of her flowers or it would be another boring day in which you couldn't see her.

“Mm,” you murmured, getting up, disappointed. “Today is not the day to go out, huh?” you said amused.

The sound of nearby axe blows brought you out of the comfort of your solitude, of your routine. The lycans always did the hard work, always cut down the trees to give you that precious firewood. Yes, you could truly feel privileged although those beasts... They weren't exactly intelligent.

“Hey!” you shouted, walking quickly towards that group of lycans who were cutting down one of the nearby trees. “I thought I told you to go to the western forest.”

The grunts were their response while they shrugged their shoulders comically.

“West, do you hear me?” you repeated indignantly, stamping the ground. “Oh, damn it. Give me that,” you said while taking the axe from one of them. “Go over there, and get a bigger axe.”

Taking another of your tools and giving it to the lycan, you order them to leave, something they obeyed, luckily.

“Great…” you muttered annoyed, running a hand through that half-felled tree. “Stupid lycans…”

Shaking your head, you put the axe on your shoulder, ready to return to the comfort of paperwork or the fun of hunting, you were still not sure. A strange creaking sound stopped your steps and you turned around trembling.

That tree seemed to lean dangerously, which made you open your eyes in fear.

“Oh, no, no, no, no…” you lamented, running towards it as fast as you could. You didn't get there in time.

The tree split and the larger half fell down the cliff. You could only touch it with your fingers before it disappeared into the abyss with a thunderous sound of breaking glass.

“Shit…” you sighed, closing your eyes tightly. That definitely hadn't sounded good at all.

Slowly, clearing your throat, you looked over the cliff. If that tree had fallen into the river it would have been a relief, but it didn't.

Below the slope, that tree rested on the roof of the Beneviento mansion, with its top stuck in one of the windows.

“Okay… Damn it,” you said through your teeth, running a hand over your forehead. “Damn it…”

“Hey!” a sharp scream made you look down again.

Donna and Angie had come out of the house, surely alerted by the noise. You tried to hide from them, but you weren't fast enough.

“Hey, you, I saw you!” the doll snapped at you, forcing you to look out again. “What do you think you're doing?! Do you want to kill us!?”

“Oh, um… I'm sorry!” you cried out embarrassed, biting your lip. Both lady and doll looked at you intensely.

“You're sorry?! Get down here and face me!” Angie demanded.

You had no choice but to obey, taking a big leap to go down to the grounds of the mansion. You landed next to Donna, looking at her briefly and then observing the mess the tree had caused.

“H-Hi…” you sighed nervously, with a shy smile. “Um, I can, I can explain it.”

“There's a tree going through the attic of my house, what do you have to explain?” the lady in black asked, with that usual hoarse tone.

You laughed amused by what you thought was a joke and scratched the back of your neck, looking at the tree and shaking your head.

“It was an accident,” ​​you said with a shaky voice. “It, it wasn't my fault.”

Angie and Donna looked at each other and, after a few seconds, lowered their heads towards the axe you were still holding, looking back at you shortly after.

“Oh, no, it's not what it seems,” you said nervously, hiding the tool behind your back.

“We caught you with the weapon, silly, anything to say in your defense?” Angie said, crossing her arms, held by her owner.

“Okay, I'm, I'm sorry,” you said, with your best good girl face. “It wasn't me, the lycans are getting stupider every day and they started cutting down a tree they shouldn't have and…” you stammered.

“Your apologies aren't going to solve the problem,” Donna whispered, lowering the doll to the ground.

“Yeah, I know but…” you said nervously, avoiding looking at the mess. “Don't worry, I'll call, I'll call the lycans to get it out of there. In the meantime, as compensation… I don't know, maybe, maybe you'd like to have some tea at my place.”

“Is that compensation?” the puppet mocked, shaking her head. “No, silly, we want a million lei.”

“What? A million?” you asked, mouth agape.

“Don't pay attention to her,” Donna murmured, walking away from you. “The tea will be enough.”

“Oh, okay…” you said blinking in confusion. You didn't think it was going to be that easy.

“What are you saying, silly Donna? Have you become…?” Angie said, tugging at her owner's dress. The lady looked at her firmly, making her shut up immediately.

Intimidation or control? You weren't sure.

The walk to your cabin was tense. After you called the lycans and they went up to the roof, you started to think about why you had offered the lady in black some tea. She certainly didn't seem displeased with the offer, but you found that something so stupid was enough for Donna strange. After all, you had impaled her house on a tree.

The lady in black gasped as your dogs roared at her presence. You couldn't be surprised by it. It was very strange to have visitors.

“Relax, they're harmless,” you said with a nervous smile, opening the door to your cabin. “That's Pinky, and that's Winky”

“Pinky and Winky? What kind of stupid names are those?”  the doll said, watching the animals with curiosity. They calmed down due to your caresses.

“Well, the ones I gave them,” you said proudly, stroking the head of one of them, causing it to lick your hand.

“Can I play with them?” the Angie doll asked, approaching cautiously. “Can I, Donna, can I?”

“I don't know,” the lady in black whispered, looking suspiciously at the hounds. “(Y/N), they won't hurt Angie, right?”

“No, I don't think so,” you said unsurely, watching the doll's timid interactions with the animals. “She'll be fine.”

“Aren't you going to invite me in?” the lady asked after a few silent moments watching Angie, who had already mounted one of the beasts.

“Oh, sure, come in,” you said, coming out of that daydream.

Donna entered slowly, observing every detail of your small but luxurious cabin.

“Mm,” she murmured, sitting on one of your sofas in a disinterested manner.

“It's not much but well, it's a home,” you commented, confused by the attitude of the woman in black, the passive and timid attitude as always. “Black tea?”

She nodded slightly and you did the same, nervously preparing the tea. Silence was once again your only companion. You couldn't say you were scared, but you were somewhat intimidated by her presence. You knew what she was capable of. You knew she wasn't right in the head. Maybe she had set you up to make you suffer for your mistake.

“Ahem, here you go,” you said nervously, sitting in front of her and showing a jar. “Do you want sugar?”

“No,” she answered dryly, taking the cup and bringing it to her lips, slightly moving her veil aside.

You couldn't help but notice her features, something that made her stop, replacing the black cloth.

“It's rude to stare at someone,” she murmured annoyed.

“I'm sorry,” you said nervously, looking away so she could drink calmly.

“What are you sorry about? About shamelessly staring at me or impaling my house on a tree?” Donna asked in a dark, hoarse tone, with a marked accent.

“Oh, the tree thing and... Well, the other thing too and... I'd better, I'd better keep quiet,” you said, hiding your embarrassment behind your cup of tea.

“Mm,” she murmured again with disinterest, leaving her cup on the table and resting her hands on her lap in an elegant and shy way. Surely she must have been uncomfortable, just like you.

The tension could easily be cut. Silence stopped being your ally and became your worst enemy. To talk or not to talk, that was the question.

Luckily, it was the lady in black who seemed interested in starting a conversation.

“What are you doing here all day?” the doll maker asked, barely moving.

“Nothing special, I don't spend much time in here, to tell the truth,” you said, clearing your throat, relieved by the disappearance of silence. “I don't like being locked up.”

“I see. You are like one of your beasts then,” she commented, tilting her head slightly.

You raised your eyebrows, not quite knowing how to respond to that statement.

“If by that you mean that I like the outdoors...” you murmured amused, with a calm smile.

“No, I say it because of how ugly you are,” she said abruptly, leaving you completely disoriented, speechless.

“Hey...” you protested at that gratuitous and unexpected insult.

“It was a joke,” she said, seeing your incipient annoyance.

You blinked confused, shaking your head and drinking again to relieve the trembling of your body.

“Forgive me, I'm not very good at it,” Donna said in a softer tone, laughing shyly. “I've never known how to joke.”

“A joke, of course,” you said calmer but tense, with your heart beating strongly in your chest. “Relax, I'm not good with people either.”

“It doesn't seem like it,” she said distractedly, shifting uncomfortably on the wooden sofa. “You get along very well with my siblings.”

“You think so? No, not at all, we just tolerate each other,” you explained in a relaxed tone, waving your hand to make light of it. “I usually go out with Heisenberg to have beers from time to time but the truth is that I prefer solitude.”

“Heisenberg,” the lady repeated, with a mysteriously dark tone. “Do you like spending time with him?”

You shrugged, not giving importance to those innocent questions.

“Yes, well, I'm still a human being, or so I think... You know, we're social animals and...” you said, leaning back in the chair, realizing what that question really meant. “Oh, if you mean... No, no, no, no,” you quickly denied. “It's not what you're thinking.”

“What am I thinking?” she asked, with a somewhat more casual tone, letting you sense a smile behind that black veil.

“I don't know, what are you thinking?” you asked back, shy but somehow confident.

“I'm just saying that you get along with my brother, I wasn't implying anything,” Donna said, with a slightly more serious tone, annoyed for some reason.

“Okay…” you sighed confused.

It was the first time you talked for so long with the woman in black and that started to take its toll on you, making you more and more nervous.

“I get along with you too,” you whispered almost without meaning to.

“Oh, really?” she asked with a mocking tone. “What makes you think that way?”

“Well…” you murmured, regretting your words. “At least you talk to me, they say that's a miraculous.”

“What's miraculous? Someone talking to you?” she asked, curious, reaching out her hand again for the cup of tea, indicating that you should look away again.

“No, you talking to someone,” you said in a small voice, lowering your head while the lady put the tea back in its place.

“Mm,” Donna murmured with disinterest, maintaining that tense and defensive pose, not paying attention to your words, or at least, not showing it. “What else are they saying out there?”

“Huh?” you asked confused, startled. “Oh, nothing bad, just, just that...”

“Bugiarda,” she whispered, shaking her head.

“Excuse me?” you asked, getting closer in case you had misunderstood her.

“I say you are a liar,” she repeated, clenching her fists discreetly. “I know perfectly well what they say about me.”

“Oh, okay, but, but you asked me…” you stammered, the awkwardness tensing the atmosphere even more.

Lady Beneviento shrugged with a sigh.

“I was just curious, you're a very strange girl,” she whispered curiously, tilting her head again.

“Likewise,” you said laughing, joking unintentionally. You were too clumsy for social relations, you should know it. “I mean…”

A tender laugh came out of the veil again, a sweet laugh that didn't express that previous coldness. Your heart was restless, but your face made things easier for you, making you smile back.

“Sei divertente…” the lady whispered among laughs.

“Thank you, I guess…” you joked, raising your cup of tea in gratitude, drinking the remaining liquid.

“So you and me get along…” Donna said, after a moment of calm.

“Mm?” you asked confused, crossing your arms. You could no longer hide behind the empty cup.

“You said that before, you say that we get along,” the lady repeated, with a more impatient tone, as if she was annoyed at having to repeat things.

“You're at my house drinking tea so... It seems so,” you said amused, arching your eyebrows.

“How curious, I thought we were here because you’ve destroyed my house,” she said, crossing her arms, finally changing that stoic pose.

“Oh yeah, shit…” you sighed embarrassed again remembering the accident from a while ago.

“Don't talk like that, (Y/N), you're a Lord,” Donna reprimanded you with a stern voice.

“Can't a Lord say shit?” you asked amused, relaxing in the armchair.

“You shouldn't,” the lady said with a dry voice, shaking her head.

“Besides, I'm not a Lord,” you said after a few moments.

“No? So what are you?” she asked in a low, hoarse tone, more like her usual one.

“I don't know,” you answered with a slightly nostalgic sigh. You had never seriously considered that question. “(Y/N)”

“(Y/N)…” the doll maker murmured, in a somber tone. “Lady (Y/N)?”

“Just (Y/N)” you repeated, with a knowing smile, accidentally winking.

“Mm,” she murmured, finishing her tea and letting silence fall over your shoulders again.

“I don't think they'll take long,” you said, unable to find a suitable topic of conversation in your mind, one that wouldn't lead to awkward statements or questions from the lady in black.

“Are you nervous?” she asked, looking at the subtle trembling of your hands.

“No,” you said, putting on a serious expression.

“I’m making you nervous,” she said next, stating, not asking.

“No, no, no, no, I mean…” you stammered. “It's not that I'm nervous because I accidentally destroyed your house and I'm afraid you're going to give me nightmares or something like that,” you said, with a tone totally different from the one you wanted to express.

“If I had wanted you dead, you would already be,” Donna hissed in a sinister voice, one that made a shiver run through your body.

“It was, it was a joke,” you said timidly, scratching the back of your neck.

“I see you are not good at joking either,” she said, with a calmer tone, she even seemed to laugh.

“Not at all,” you said with a fearful smile.

“Hey, get away, you disgusting slime!” Angie's squeals alerted you. “Hey!”

You stood up with the lady, walking towards the door, where a group of lycans waited patiently, curious about the doll.

“Donna, Donna!” the puppet shrieked, running into the arms of her owner. “You, tell them to stop harassing me!”

“Hey, you, stay still,” you ordered the beasts, which continued to surround you in a sinister manner.

The lycans growled, but obeyed.

“Are you done?” you asked in a stern tone, crossing your arms. The strongest-looking one nodded in satisfaction. “Great...”

“There’s no more tree?” Angie asked curiously. You moved your head triumphantly.

“Mm, oh, and don’t worry about the window, the village glazier owes me a favor,” you said pleasantly, with an apologetic look. The growls of those beasts were uncomfortable and made you turn to them. “What are you looking at? Go away, go away…”

The pack of beasts scattered, accidentally hitting the lady in black, who fell to the ground with a gasp.

“Oh, shit, Donna…” you said nervously, helping the lady up. “Hey, be more careful! Shit, sorry, sorry…”

The lady groaned, helped by you and Angie, brushing the snow off her dress.

You were speechless. The black veil covering her face had moved enough for you to see her. She was… She was simply a beautiful woman, really beautiful. The deformity of her face was not an impediment for you to be dazzled. Of course she noticed, opening her one eye wide.

“W-Wait…” you sighed, reaching out your hand to the veil and awkwardly placing it. “There you go.”

“You are not scared,” she murmured, finishing to place the black cloth. You shook your head, with a strange smile.

“No, not at all, you are… You have nothing to do with what they say out there,” you commented unintentionally, nervous because of that beautiful face, one that made your heart race. “You are such a beautiful woman. I don't know why you're covering yourself”

Donna didn't answer. She just looked at you strangely, shaking her head.

“You're really bad at jokes, (Y/N)” she whispered in a surprisingly calm tone. “But thanks for trying.”

“I'm telling the truth,” you said, frowning as the lady walked away with a slow step, picking up her doll again. “Hey, Donna!” you shouted, getting her attention. “I liked having tea with you.”

“Of course, you say we get along, right?” she said, laughing shyly, still walking.

It wasn't the last time you two got together.

From the day you destroyed her house, the visits started to become more and more frequent. They were always absurd talks about topics that weren't important. In your house, in hers, the place didn't matter.

Your mind began to unravel why a part of you seemed addicted to looking over the cliff, to see if the lady would leave her house. She was beautiful… Really beautiful, a wounded woman with a tormented soul who was terribly attractive to you. The veil disappeared over time, at every tea, at every visit she was closer and you were closer.

It was hard for you to recognize it but… Soon friendship was no longer enough, soon your lips sighed as you walked away from that house, as you watched her leave yours. You were attracted to her, you liked her, Donna was perfect for you but at the same time she was something impossible to have and you should accept it before falling into the clutches of an unhealthy crush.

“That was the last time I skied with my dogs,” you said one quiet night, one in which the tea went on so long that the stars shone in the sky.

The fireplace in the Beneviento house crackled, giving your body a different, strange warmth. Maybe it was just having Donna next to you, with her legs up on the couch, listening to your stupid adventures for hours.

The lady in black laughed, changing her teacup for a glass of wine, one she slowly brought to her lips as fire glowed in her eye, making you shiver.

“It wasn't a good idea,” she commented amused, leaving the glass on the table. “You could have hurt yourself.”

“Yeah, well, I'm resilient,” you joked, raising and lowering your eyebrows, settling yourself on that sofa.

“You say your life is boring, but it doesn't seem that way to me,” Donna said, looking at you distractedly, lowering her hand dangerously close to yours.

“Most of the time it's boring, I only tell you the best parts,” you said, drinking your glass of wine, briefly looking at your hands.

“Would you have liked not to be a Lord?” she asked, with a sadder look, without looking at you.

“I'm not a Lord,” you said amused, relaxing your smile when you saw her serious face. “But, what do you mean?”

“You know, I'm wondering if you would have preferred a normal, ordinary life,” the doll maker whispered, looking at you again, curious.

You shrugged, finishing your wine.

“I don't know,” you sighed wistfully, looking at the fireplace. “I guess my life would keep being boring.”

“Mm,” she murmured, resting her head on the couch, as if she was waiting for a longer answer.

“Well, let's see, it has its good points,” you said in a more casual tone.

“Like what?” the lady asked.

“To have met you,” you murmured involuntarily, noticing how your cheeks were heating up with blush.

“You... Are you glad you met me?” Donna asked, leaning towards you.

“Yes, Donna, you are a wonderful woman,” you said, faking a friendly smile, lightly hitting her hand, one that grabbed yours without wanting to, putting your heart on alert.

“I, I'm glad I met you too,” she sighed, watching how your hands played on their own, getting to know each other, caressing each other involuntarily. “I... I...”

“Hey, it's too late, fools!” Angie interrupted, just when your bodies began to walk the path that separated them. You stepped back, keeping your gaze on the lady, who did the same, with a serious expression, as if she had regretted her movements.

“Angie…” Donna sighed, also annoyed by the doll's boldness.

You wondered what would have happened if the puppet hadn't appeared, what your lips would have done.

“S-she's right, um… There's a meeting tomorrow and we should rest,” you said nervously, getting up from the couch.

“Yes, I…” she said, nodding but unable to take her eye off yours and nervous just like you. “We, we'll see each other tomorrow.”

“Yes…” you sighed with a weak smile, taking your hands away from each other at the same time. Unintentionally, they had remained together. “Donna, I…”

“Yes?” she asked, perhaps too quickly.

You opened your mouth but couldn't say what you wanted, something prevented you.

“Nothing, um… Have a good night,” you said timidly, moving away from her.

“(Y/N), wait, I have, I have to tell you something,” the lady said, gently grabbing your wrist.

“Yes?” you said the same way, with almost pleading eyes.

She imitated your gesture, opening her mouth and not saying anything. If it weren't in those circumstances it could have been somewhat comical.

“I... T-thank you for, for having dinner with me,” she finally said. “I hope you rest.”

You nodded disappointedly, walking towards the exit.

Cowardice, that was the only word on your mind. You wanted to tell her many things, you wanted to tell the doll maker that you would like to spend more time with her, that every second by her side was wonderful, but you couldn't do it.

Cowardly, yes, but also worried, your head was spinning from that crush that you couldn't deny. Maybe Donna was just excited to have someone after so much time alone, it could be that the lady in black was just a friend, and nothing else.

If so, any advance on your part would be a hammer, a saw, a cutting element that would irreparably break your friendship.

You didn't want that, you didn't want to lose her for confusing your feelings, for misinterpreting hers.

The next day you opened your eyes routinely. You had barely rested, thinking about everything that was happening around Lady Beneviento, everything you lived with her every day. Staying calm and strengthening the friendship was your priority, no matter how many times your heart reminded you of what you really felt for her.

“Welcome, my children...” Miranda said, while you all sat down in your seats and you smiled at the lady in black, who made a gesture to greet you, indicating that you should sit next to her. “(Y/N)...” the priestess murmured, showing that subtle contempt she felt for you, who were not part of her family but were not a villager either.

“Hey there…” you said haughtily, earning a strange look from the lady in black.

The witch smiled sinisterly, moving away from you to begin her usual speech.

These meetings stopped being boring a long time ago.

While Miranda spoke you made mocking gestures so Donna looked at you, rolling your eyes, nodding ironically... Anything that would grant you the perfect gift of her soft laugh under her veil.

“Hey, Donna, how do you say boring in Italian?” you whispered, getting a little closer to her chair. She looked at you, moving Angie so she was comically leaning in your ear.

“Noioso,” Angie whispered, to which you nodded gratefully.

“Mm,” you murmured amused. “I suppose it will be useful for the next meeting.”

Donna shook her head, sighing amused.

“So… Boring witch would be something like... Strega noiosa?” you asked, getting a little closer to the lady's ear.

“Yes, more or less,” the lady whispered, in a tone that only you could hear. “Why do you want to know?”

“Because I like to know what I'm looking at,” you said, pointing at Miranda with your head.

Donna laughed nervously, unable to be discreet, attracting the attention of the priestess, who immediately fell silent.

“Donna, I can't believe it,” Miranda sighed, crossing her arms. “What's so funny?”

“Nothing, Mother Miranda,” the lady murmured, holding back her laughter.

You looked away, meeting the eyes of the lady of the castle, who was looking at you with a frown, you didn't know for how long.

“Oh, okay, go away, out...” Miranda said, tired, gesturing with her hand.

Luckily, you were spared that reprimand.

“I'll kill you, (Y/N),” Donna whispered as you walked back home. “I swear I'll kill you.”

“Hey, I didn't do anything,” you joked. “I'm just trying to pass the time.”

“I'm sure you did,” the lady said, walking slowly beside you. “Oh, I'm almost done with the doll you ordered.”

“Wow, that's fast,” you said satisfied, walking slower and slower, enjoying that little moment of company.

“Well, the hounds were difficult to make” she commented, disinterested.

“Oh, shit, I mean, jeez…” you joked, scratching the back of your neck. “Now that you mention it… I should go buy them some meat.”

“Are you coming this afternoon?” the ventriloquist asked, accidentally taking your hand, something that you, of course, didn't prevent. “I'd like… For us to have dinner together, like yesterday.”

“Sure, but I'll cook,” you said amused as your hands slowly separated.

Donna turned around, giving you one last look before disappearing into the forest.

You sighed, shaking your head.

“Ah, fuck!” you screamed when a hand rested on your shoulder. You turned around scared.

Alcina, Lady Dimitrescu, was behind you, with the same expression as at the meeting.

“Well, well…” she murmured in a sensual voice.

“Oh, hello, Alcina, I…” you stammered, still scared. “Do you need something? Have you run out of firewood?”

“No…”she sighed, changing her frown into a sinister smile. “Tell me, (Y/N), what exactly is going on between you and my sister?” she asked, making you blush again.

“What? I don't understand,” you said nervously, looking for an escape route with your gaze. There wasn't one.

“Please, I saw you at the meeting, you looked like two clingy teenagers,” she commented, rolling her eyes. “Come on, confess, what's going on?”

“We are, we are friends,” you said, with a sad smile.

“Donna has a friend…” Alcina sighed, shaking her head and crossing her arms. “Do you realize how stupid it sounds?”

“I don't know why you say that, she's a kind woman and… When, when you meet her it's… It's…”

“I know what she's like, dear,” the lady in white interrupted. “That's why I'm surprised that someone like you got that close to her.”

“We, we get along,” you said, nodding with a serious face, watching the lady in black walk away without looking back, luckily.

“Is that all?” Dimitrescu asked.

Let's see, she was over a hundred years old, she wasn't exactly stupid... It wouldn't be easy to fool her.

“Yes... Unfortunately,” you sighed, looking at the snow under your feet.

“Oh, see? That doesn't seem like a dirty lie anymore,” the lady in white joked. “So? What are you going to do?”

“What? Oh, nothing...” you said with a sad, timid voice, shaking your head. “I guess.”

“Mm...” Alcina murmured, running a huge hand over your shoulders. “It's funny... You, a Lord...”

“I'm not a... Bah, never mind,” you said, interrupting but regretting it later.

“How can it be? You face Mother Miranda and don't have the guts to tell Donna what you feel,” she said, with an inquisitive look.

She knew more about your feelings than you did. Would Donna have talked to her? It seemed unlikely.

“It seems easy, but it isn't,” you protested, crossing your arms.

“I think so, dear…” she sighed, lighting a cigarette. “Take some advice from me, (Y/N)… Tell her.”

“I can't do that, what if she doesn't feel the same?” you said nervously, less and less uncomfortable with the conversation.

“Please…” Alcina murmured, rolling her eyes again. “Stop fooling around and tell her how you feel. Donna doesn't take hints, understand? She needs really big signs to show her the way.”

You nodded, frowning.

“Hey, what do you care?” you asked curiously.

The lady in white shrugged her shoulders with a funnily sinister smile.

“Let's say that… I need some time without the castle phone ringing and disturbing me…”

“What?” you asked curiously. “Did Donna tell something to you?”

“I didn't say that, (Y/N)…” the vampire murmured, turning elegantly, leaving you stuck to the snow, blinking and breathing heavily. “What are you doing standing there? Run…”

You nodded, overcome by euphoria, turning around with a smile. Yes, Donna felt the same, there was no doubt. You didn't know why Alcina helped you, or what things Donna told her about you but… You had to tell her, tell her that your cabin wasn't warm enough if she wasn't with you, that… That you loved her…

You ran with all your might, jumping through the forest with the strength that love, or nerves, gave you.

You reached the clearing where little Claudia was resting and took one last big jump, avoiding the elevator.

As you fell you realized that you had terribly miscalculated and your body was quickly approaching the mansion hopelessly.

“Shit!” you shouted protecting yourself with your arms as you went through the newly repaired attic window, falling thunderously to the ground. “Ouch...”

You shook the glass off your body, checking that your wounds were healing on their own as usual.

“Hey!” Angie's shrieks reached your ears and you, timidly, looked out the broken window with an embarrassed smile.

“Hi...” you sighed timidly, moving your hand in greeting, looking at the lady who was watching you calmly.

“(Y/N)?” Donna asked, shaking her head.

“Silly! What's your problem with that window?” Angie asked as you jumped to the ground in a quick movement, landing in front of the lady.

“I'm sorry, I had to talk to you,” you said nervously as she removed a piece of glass from your dress, one that you couldn't shake off.

“I guess walking isn't your thing, right?” Donna commented, amused, not the slightest bit bothered by your accident.

“No, my favorite hobby is being with you,” you said quickly. She moved away, but not enough for your hands to not be able to reach her face. “D-Donna, I... I...”

Not finding words that could be useful, you decided push that horrible veil away from her face and capture her lips with yours, in a deep, sincere kiss that she immediately returned.

“I'm in love with you,” you whispered still on her lips, kissing her slowly, grabbing her waist as she did the same, smiling in relief.

“Really? Are you serious?” the lady asked, caressing your cheeks. “Me, me too…”

“Yes… I may not want to be a Lord but, but I want to be by your side, to be with you… I, I love you, Donna, I love you…”

“Lord or not, my heart is yours, (Y/N)… Yours forever…”

[with-my-calamitous-love]

SHOTGUN SHOT THROUGH THE HEART / CAN'T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

keigo x reader x touya

part 2/4, part 1 here

the day of touya’s supposed arrest was the day you almost ended it all. a familiar winged hero comes to your rescue. olivia rodrigo mentioned!

inspired by drivers license + getaway car

today was enough to kill you.

4:26 am. your eyes open with no time for dreary morning exhaustion. his arms feel especially warm that morning, making it all the more harder to pry yourself away from him. in the end, it would be two broken hearts, and 4 hands bloody.

what kills you is how peaceful he looks. how touya, a man who had fire inside his heart, felt some semblance of comfort when he laid next to you. you prayed he was dreaming, dreaming of something better than this.

you pack throw your keys and what little cash there is left into the purse he stole for you. your as quiet as possible, not necessarily to conceal your movement, but rather your cries. you don't want to do this. you want to go there, and lay with your favorite arsonist. you want to lay there and love him into the world catches up with you. but you fucking can't.

and the worst part is, he's watching you.

he could stand up. he could yell, and demand to know what's going on. he could burn you to a crisp or pull you into his arms. he could promise you forever or break your heart more as you slowly twist the doorknob open.

he hated the fact that he was suspicious about you, but its god's cruelest joke that that gut feeling is somehow always right. he doesn't what exactly is going down, but he knows you're not coming back. his hearts not pure, far from it, but it still hurts him watching you leave. you turned into the one thing he wished you never would be.

but he's quiet. because deep down, somewhere deep in his heart, he knew this would happen eventually. he can't find it in himself to blame you. he blames himself for thinking you wouldn't.

so with a gentle, silent sigh, he lets you go.

just because someone expects betrayal doesn't mean they can't cry when it happens.

you breathe again once you finally reach the car, ducking past the sirens, officers and god damn heroes that are waiting outside the hotel. many of them, the figures you see on t.v and on magazines attempt to acknowledge you, to thank you for your efforts, but your oxygen is running out. you slam the door shut behind you and speed off into the early dusk of the morning.

red lights and stop signs become nothing but a blur as shaky sobs take over your lungs. your grip on the steering wheel loosens as you see his face in the rearview. your feet on the dashboard, laughing at crude jokes overtaking the sounds of traffic. you pray that he'll forgive you, though its useless.

by now, they've broken into the room.

by now, they've got him on his knees.

by know, he realizes just why you left so soon.

you drive alone, despite the various honks and sirens that become more and more evident at your recklessness. suddenly, you see him everywhere- sidewalks, car reflections, alleyways and deeply embedded in the crevices of your heart.

you said forever, and now you drove the getaway car.

when keigo calls you, you answer with a shaky huff as his voice comes through the receiver. he updates you on everything, much to your dismay.

"what do you mean you guys didn't arrest him!? what the fuck happened there?!" you scream.

your ex-fiance's voice is filled with guilt as he explains everything. "it... was a disaster. we underestimated him. he was unstoppable, angrier than i've ever seen him. and when i told him you were the one who gave up his location..."

your heart may as well have stopped when he said that.

"you... told him...?"

the blonde winces at the tone in your voice, realizing his slip up. for a hero that was so used to lying, being calculated and playing a role that wasn't for him, he struggled to hide the most of painful of truths to you.

"shit, i'm... fuck, i'm sorry, babe. it just slipped out." the coward in every man, and evidently in keigo, tries to cover up what he revealed about you. it obviously doesn't work.

a shaky, sob-filled scream escapes your throat as you dangerously speed through the traffic and onto the bridge connecting your now abandoned hiding spot to the city. other drivers are understandably honking at you, flipping you off and asking who the hell granted you your license. you're too distraught to care, seeing as the guilt of turning touya in overtakes you.

you did the right thing, and it tore your heart apart at the seems.

keigo is still on the phone with you, keeping note of the sirens and cars he hears from your end. he quickly tries to diffuse the situation before anything else happens. "[y/n], love, i'm gonna need you to pull over." he cautions. "i'll come to you."

"i'm fine." you lie, not wanting him to see you like this. you stare at the watery depths below, reasoning with yourself not to do anything rash. just make it back to your apartment, wrap yourself up in your bedsheets and lay there until this is all over.

keigo sees right through this, as if sensing your inner turmoil (if it wasn't already blatantly obvious.) he begs you just to pull over, to stop driving in the state your in, and just let him come to you. let him make sure you come out of this alive. its what he wants, and its probably what touya wants, too.

you grit your teeth at his pleas, too heartbroken to think rationally right now. you're a reckless, ticking time bomb, and you all know it. "god, i know you care about me, kei. i know you still have feelings for me."

he's silent on the other end of the phone. his heart clenches, wincing at your harshness. he was never trying to hide how he never fully got over you, even after you professed your love for the man you ran away with. somehow, you still had that hold on his heartstrings.

"yeah, well, so what if do? what difference does it make i still don't want you to kill yourself."

his hand shakes as he holds the phone in his hand, his worry growing more and more apparent with each passing second.

"you made me betray the person i loved so much, maybe as much as i loved you."

theres a heavy silence that hangs over the call screen. its wrong to blame keigo for what happened. either way, touya was still a dangerous villain who had to be stopped. all keigo did was open your eyes to the truth. probably because he's a hero, and thats what heroes do, but also because he loves you, and doesn't want to see your heartbreak over a criminal.

but its that last part that makes keigo's heart sink to his stomach. the idea that the amount of love you had for him was equivalent to the love you had for touya.

even after the end of your breakup, he still wished the best for you. he wished for you to be happy, just not happier than how you were with him. as selfish as that is.

his heart aches, the pain of what you're going through beginning to creep up on him too. he o desperately wants to tell you that everything will be okay, that he'll be your hero and take all your hurt away, but in that regard? he's powerless.

"keigo, i-"

he listens, hoping you'll finish your sentence. but you don't, even after he yells after you. "what? [y/n], what? hey!?"

his heart stops in his chest as a loud crash resonates over your end, followed by honking, screaming, and worst of all, the sound of something splashing into the watery depths below. what scares him the most is what he doesn't know. are you okay? can he still save you in time?

when the line goes dead, he quicky takes off, setting out to find you before its too late.

✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚ ✧.* ✧.* ⋆.˚

theres an overwhelming cold feeling that takes you. you're oddly relaxed, despite the dull ache that erupts in your head. you aren't sure whats happening fully, your memories a messy haze. right now, nothing else matters as your body floats through the cold state of purgatory.

theres suddenly a sharp pain on your chest, followed by a desperate plea you can’t quite discern. theres a familiar taste on your lips, one that speaks love to you. that resounding pressure on your chest makes your heart thump, causing memories to suddenly replay in your mind like a film screen. memories with someone you loved.

you and keigo had met through some friend you can’t really remember. two deep in chardonnay, and you were the only one that guessed his antics during charades. the pounding of your heart continues as you recall the memory. you went from one kiss to getting married in just the span of a few months.

first loves are special like that.

he found pieces of you in every song he listened to, became utterly addicted to smell of your perfume and your bare shoulder in the morning. he loved your laughter, the way your hands fit in his. he loved that you saw him, even in the moments he could barely recognize himself.

the thing about first love, however, is that its also your first loss.

fears of trapping you in a marriage, the same one he had seen growing up, became all the more evident for the hero. he didn’t want to hold you down, to chain you to him when the two of you were meant to fly freely, happily. he felt like you deserved to love someone else.

and eventually, you did. though he never expected the firstborn son turned villain you ran off with.

but as keigo performs cpr on you, begging you to come back to life, he pleads with the sky. with anyone who might hear him, or whoever was trying to take you away from this world.

if it meant you’d start breathing again, he’d fly up to the clouds and catch lightning in a bottle. if it meant you’d open your eyes, he’d fix every last mistake he ever made. if it meant you’d love him again… well, he’d deal with the truth of that if it meant you’d simply live again.

he almost gives up, looking down at his own, wet gloved hands as he comes to terms with the fact that his attempts may be futile. you were injured in the crash, losing blood from cuts and bruises. on top of that, you had drowned, the cruel, murky depths of the sea taking you away.

he’s already covered in water, but a singular tear drop runs down his eye.

your hearts beating, fuelled purely by the love you’ve gotten to experience. you see two people- the man who brought you back to life, and the one that felt like the best way to die.

before you can discern who is who, your heart catches up with your lungs, taking a desperate gasp of air. you immediately turn to your side, ignoring the cuts on your body in order to turn over and cough out the water. its salty and stings your throat, your vision hazy and your body shivering.

“breathe.” a voice commands you, rubbing circles on your back. keigo sighs in relief, pulling you into his lap. you cling like the life buoy you would have needed just a couple of minutes ago.

you don’t even realizing you’re still crying, not until the blonde strokes your cheeks free from the tears. he tilts your head up so he can look at you.

“you were dead a minute ago.” he says, his usual nonchalant behaviour replaced by a rare glimmer of worry. you were the only person that pulled those feelings out of him, anyway.

your throat sings of salt, body aching from the cold and the blood loss. “yeah, well… you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily.” you choke out.

he almost laughs, opting to pull you into a tight hug. with as much strength, though theres not much, you embrace him back. yes, you’re still mad. yes, you’re still heartbroken. but he somehow made your tortured heart beat once more.

he wraps his coat around you, handing you off to the paramedics. he promises to meet you in the hospital after he’s done helping other survivors, sending you off with a tender kiss to your forehead. keigo looks back, seeing the accident that left you dead for a moment.

touya, from afar, is watching too.

the look on his face is something you can’t quite decipher. he’s mad as hell you sold him out, especially at the behest of hawks- but something dragged him to the scene of the accident. something in him had to know you’d be okay.

he watches as the ambulance takes you away, before turning away and leaving the scene.

tags 🐚

@whenanafallsinlove @satirediary @bbluefllame @crushmeeren (aka all the people that would probably choose touya’s life over a thousand peoples 😭 cuz me too)

[regiawrites]

And There Will Be No Tenderness - S.R

Warning(s): Sub!Spencer, Fem!Dom!Reader, Brief Overstimulation, Riding, General Idiocy Word Count: 6134 Summary: Y/N and Reid never see eye-to-eye, but one kiss changes everything.

Garcia hustled into the conference room as quickly as she could with the height of her hot pink pumps, fiddling with the remote as she moved. "Good morning, my lovelies," She greeted the team. "Sorry for the hurry, but this one's a bad one."

"When are they good ones?" Rossi asked dryly as he flipped open the manilla folder in his hands.

"An excellent point," she granted, "but this one is particularly bad." 

She clicked the remote and a series of gruesome images appeared on the screen, so gruesome, in fact, that even Hotch's face twitched. Four women, clearly dead, were covered in blood, bruises, and an array of other injuries, although no two seemed similar.

"These unfortunate four are Kerry Whittingham, Jasmyn Willis, Carly Smythe and Louise Fresca," Garcia said, gesturing to each of the women as she did so. "All of these women have been missing for between 6 and 11 months, all reported missing by their families within a week of them vanishing."

"How have they been linked together?" Morgan asked. "They all have different causes of death." 

"Yeah," Y/N agreed. "Kerry Whittingham was evisceration, but it says here that Carly Smythe's cause of death was drowning. What's the connection?" 

"That is where things get really bad," Garcia said with a grimace before clicking the remote again. 

Four images of matching symbols appeared, each woman having the same mark burned into their wrists.

"Are those brands?" Y/N asked, horrified, making brief eye contact with JJ who mirrored her expression. 

"Human trafficking, maybe?" Emily suggested and Garcia nodded. 

"The local police department thinks so, yeah." 

"So, they're being sold-" Y/N started, but was cut off by Reid scoffing 'Obviously'. She shot him a glare but spared him no response as she continued. "-and showing up dead. Are there any signs of sexual abuse?" 

"Only on Jasmyn Willis," Garcia answered.

"So, they're not being sold to be sex slaves," Y/N guessed. "They're being sold to be killed."

"Or they're just being sold to whoever's interested," Reid contradicted, as he always did. "I doubt a human trafficker cares." 

"But they WOULD," Y/N argued with a roll of her eyes. "If they were being traded for sex, the trafficker would be more concerned with keeping them alive." 

"Y/L/N's right," Hotch said, and Y/N shot Reid a smug smile that he ignored. "A trafficker would want to keep the women alive so they could continue to bring in money. They're likely being kidnapped and traded with the sole purpose of being tortured and killed." 

"What like some kind of sick eBay for serial killers?" Rossi asked, face twisted in disgust.

"That's one way of looking at it," Hotch sighed as he stood. "Wheels up in 20."

As the team filed out of the room, Y/N glared at Reid as they walked towards the bullpen. "Stop contradicting me at every chance you get, asshole!" she snapped at him, and he raised an eyebrow.

"You know," he started, "research suggests that those who frequently use curse words are less intelligent than those that don't."

"Oh, shut up, Reid."

"Most likely due to a lack of adequate vocabulary," he continued.

"Shut up, Reid."

"I'm just saying, maybe you'd be less insecure about me 'contradicting' you if you-"

"If you're about to imply I'm an idiot, I will hit you," she told him, glaring up at him as they reached their desks. She leaned down to grab her go-bag from beneath her desk.

"You're also very quick to resort to threats of physical violence, which further suggests you have a lack of trust in your own intellect," he said, grabbing his own go-bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

"Don't profile me, Reid," she said, voice flat and unamused, before she turned and headed out. 

Trailing after her, Reid said, "I'm not profiling you; I'm making an observation about a coworker." 

"And your observation is that I'm stupid?" 

"I don't think you're stupid," he said with a shrug, and Y/N narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him.

"You don't?"

"You're a qualified profiler, you can't be stupid," he said. "I do, however, think you're reckless, untrusting of yourself and quick to jump to conclusions." 

"I'm not untrusting of myself," she argued, though she couldn't say she wasn't reckless. She was notorious for thinking with her heart and acting on impulse.

"If you weren't, my contradictions wouldn't bother you." 

"That is so not how that works!" she snapped. "How would you feel if every time you said anything, someone was like 'uhm, actually'?" As she said 'uhm, actually', her voice slipped into a high-pitched, nasally lilt, and she mimed pushing glasses up the bridge of her nose.

They reached the elevator, and continued to bicker as they stepped inside.

And for the whole elevator ride down. 

And for the whole walk to the jet. 

Mercifully, the pair sat at opposite ends of the jet, and didn't talk to each other for the flight, so the team had some peace.

 ***

Within a few hours, the team was set up in the conference room of a police station in Pasadena, Captain Ray Jenkins sitting among them. He was a tall, portly man with a thick moustache and a heavy brow.

"So, the suspect you have in custody had DNA matching two of the victims in the back of his van?" Y/N asked Jenkins.

"Yes, and he also had Carly Smythe's engagement ring in his glove box," he told them, showing them a picture of a diamond ring. "He's remaining silent, though." 

"I'd like to talk to him," she said, and Jenkins nodded. From somewhere beside her, Reid snorted, and she turned to glare at him. "What?" 

"I'm shocked you want to talk to him, is all," he commented with a tight-lipped smile. 

"Why would I not want to talk to a suspect?" she demanded, and he shrugged. 

"Talking involves patience. And tact."

"Oh, 'tact' says the most awkward person I've ever met," Y/N snapped. "I've had to watch you talk to women before, you don't have much tact then." 

Reid turned to face her straight on and level her with a glare, but Hotch held a hand up. "Don't start," was his only warning, effectively shutting them both up. "Y/L/N, you talk to the suspect." 

***

Kyle Hannigan was skinny.

That was the first thing Y/N had noticed about him as he sat across from her in the interrogation room. 

Skinny and short.

There was no way this man kidnapped those women, at least not on his own. 

"You didn't kill those women, Kyle," Y/N said, leaning on the desk between them, flipping through the pictures. 

"That's what I've been saying all this time," he huffed back, testy. As irritated as he sounded, he looked unnerved as his eyes flicked to-and-from the photographs of the mutilated women.

"You don't even know who killed them, do you, Kyle?" she pushed.

"No!" 

"I don't even think you touched them," she said, fighting back a smile when he raised a questioning brow at her. "I mean look at you-" she gestured to him, "-you're short, you're skinny. Jasmyn Willis was 5'9 and a weightlifter, she could have fought you off blindfolded." Kyle's jaw ticked at the insult, but he remained silent. "You're just the delivery driver." 

He stared at her, dark eyes looking up through his brows.

"So, if you're just the delivery driver, who got those women into the van, Kyle?" she asked. "And more importantly, who's running the operation?" 

He continued to stare at her, silent. 

"You know, whoever's above you in the food chain is absolutely going to let you go to prison for this," she told him. "Hell, they probably want you to take the fall. You gain nothing by protecting these people." 

"It'll be my word against his, and no one will believe me over him," he said, low and slow, leaning towards her with a glare. "So, what's the point?" She, too, leaned forward and matched his fiery glare with a cool, flat stare.

"Your word against who's, Kyle?" 

His eyes flicked towards the one-way mirror behind her, then back down to her, and she didn't miss the desperation in his eyes. 

He wanted to tell her.

He looked up at the CCTV camera positioned in the corner of the room.

"Who?" 

He continued to stare at her before raising his right hand, forming it into a claw shape and tapping it to his shoulder.

"That's all you're getting out of me," he said, before folding his arms over his chest.

***

"A claw shape that he tapped to his shoulder?" JJ asked. "What does that mean?" 

"It's ASL," Reid said matter-of-factly, pulling out his phone. 

"And what's it ASL for?" Jenkins asked him, and Reid shrugged. "I thought you were a genius."

"That doesn't mean I'm all-knowing," Reid said, simply. He began typing something into his phone.

"Great load of good that is, then," Jenkins grunted. "What do we do now?" 

"Our tech analyst is looking through his cell phone history to see if there's any suspicious activity that could be an accomplice," Hotch informed him, but Y/N didn't pay much attention to Jenkin's reply as her phone vibrated. 

She unlocked it and, surprised to see a text from Reid, she looked up to give him a questioning look, but he was pointedly not looking at her. Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, she tapped on the notification and had to force her face to remain neutral.

Reid: It's ASL for Captain.

And that was how Reid and Y/N found themselves snooping around Jenkin's office, looking for incriminating evidence. After forwarding Reid's text to Hotch and Garcia, she slipped into his office, followed by Reid.

"This is not how we're supposed to do this!" Reid hissed at her as she rifled through one of his drawers while he kept watch. "Nothing you find like this will be admissible in court."

"Yeah, yeah," she grunted, closing the drawer as quietly as she could before opening the next one down. 

"We're going to get caught." 

"Not if you do a good job keeping watch, we won't," she said, reaching for a drawer with a lock on it. She pulled and it didn't budge. "Shit, it's locked," she mumbled, looking around the desk for a paperclip, which she found in a small plastic cup, and bent it into an L-shape. 

"What are you doing?" Reid whispered, panicked and stepped away from the door.

"Keep watch!" she hissed back, wiggling the paperclip around and managing to twist the mechanism, unlocking the drawer. "Aha!"

"Why am I not surprised you can do that?" Reid asked, not looking at her. She glared at the back of his head.

"Because I'm a cornucopia runneth over of useful skills," she snarked as she started digging through the drawer. 

"Sure, that's why," he said, but she paid no mind as she started flicking through a folder she found. 

"Holy shit, Reid, I got something," she said, and he spun around to look at her.

"What, really?" he asked, walking over to her and she tilted the folder so he could see it. "Is that-?"

"Carly Smythe, yeah." 

From Y/N's hands, Carly Smythe's bruised, but very alive, face stared back at them from in front of a dirty wall. She was only wearing a white tank top in the picture, and her hair was flat and greasy, eyes hardened as she glared at the camera.

This picture wasn't a part of the investigation.

The picture was stapled to another sheet of paper, one with messy writing scrawled over it. 

Carly

24

140lbs

5'6

Brown eyes

Brown hair

No Tattoos

Limited known sexual history

Sweet voice

$10k min

$33k to Poseidon

"Oh my God," Reid muttered. 

"She isn't the only one either," Y/N said, flipping through the rest of the pages, through profiles of several women, including the four known victims. "We have to get this to Hotch." 

Before Reid could say anything, they heard Jenkins' voice coming from somewhere outside. Y/N's heart dropped.

"You were supposed to keep watch!" she whispered accusatorily at Reid, who sputtered out a response she didn't listen to as she lifted her shirt and shoved the folder into her pants, covering it when her shirt fell back down.

"What are you doing?" he asked her, eye flicking Wilding between her and the door as Jenkins' voice got closer. 

"Smuggling this out of here," she said, like it should have been obvious.

"And what excuse are you going to give him for us being in here?" he demanded, holding his hands up in distress.

"Kiss me," she commanded, and he choked.

"Excuse me?"

"Kiss me!"

And he did.

As the door handle turned, he surged forward and their mouths connected, lips crashing together. 

Reid grabbed Y/N's hips, pulling her body towards his as his tongue glided over hers, taking her by surprise as he took complete control of the kiss. She slid her hands into his hair, tugging it at the roots.

He whined into her mouth, and all higher thought ceased in Y/N's mind.

Pulling his hair harder, she kissed back with a punishing harshness, vaguely registering her ass hitting the desk as Reid pushed her against it, sliding his hands from her hips up to her waist, around her back and pulling her back against him. She caught his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged on it, making him whimper in a way that had her whole body heating up in response. 

"Ahem." 

Gasping, they tore away from each other and spun towards the door to see Jenkins smirking at them. "I don't think that's an appropriate workplace activity, Agents," he commented, and Y/N grinned in faux sheepishness. 

"Sorry, it’s all new," she said, pushing Reid away from her less harshly that she ordinarily would. "We can't keep our hands off of each other." 

"I won't tell your Captain, don't worry, sweetheart," he said, a look in his eye as he turned his gaze to her that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

Both Y/N and Reid managed to get out of the room, and the folder shoved into the front of Y/N's pants felt like it weighed a tonne.

It took less than 24 hours before Jenkins was on the other side of police custody, coughing up information about his clientele.

Six days later, four other men had been arrested for the murders of the women, and had several other murders linked to them.

Three weeks later, the Team had busted a huge ring of human trafficking. 

One month later, Y/N was still thinking about that kiss. 

Each member of The BAU had been rewarded (read: forced to take) a two-week period of leave after the events of the bust. Morgan had been shot, Rossi had a joint dislocated and, all-in-all, it was an incredibly stressful time.

Five days in and Y/N was going stir-crazy from both the boredom and the haunting thoughts of Reid’s mouth on hers. Every so often her mind would wonder to the plush look of his lips, or the intense furrow of his brow, or- when she was particularly out of control- the whine he’d made against her lips when she pulled his hair.

By day seven, she’d exhausted her Netflix subscription and had purchased Disney plus.

By day nine she’d nearly finished The Golden Girls and was out-of-her-mind bored.

As Dorothy made a snide comment, Y/N’s phone notification went off, and she practically jumped on it in all her enthusiasm. Her enthusiasm promptly dissipated when she realised the text was from Reid, and she rolled her eyes.

Reid: Are you busy?

You: No why?

Reid: I’m bored.

You: Okay and?

Reid: Are you telling me you’re not?

You: Well obviously but I didn’t text you to complain about it

Reid: Can I come over? Everyone else is busy. I’ll buy you pizza.

You: I can buy my own pizza

Reid: It tastes better when it’s free, no?

You: Fine you can come but if you don’t have the pizza I’m not letting you in

Reid: Deal. I’ll be there in an hour.

Oh, God, Reid was coming over.

She tidied up her living area, even rearranging the throw pillows on her couch before looking down at the ratty T-shirt she was wearing and had been wearing for a least three days. She debated leaving it on, but your skin tingled unpleasantly at the thought of Reid seeing it and she reluctantly decided to change.

But she couldn’t change into clean clothes without showering.

And if she was showering anyway, she may as well shave.

But if she shaves without exfoliating, she gets ingrown hairs.

That dangerous train of logic is what compelled her to take an ‘everything shower’, listening to music while she pampered her skin and ridded herself of all body hair. For Reid of all people too, to add insult to injury. He probably wouldn’t even appreciate it, not that she’d give him the chance to appreciate your silky-smooth legs, but still. Some acknowledgements of her immense efforts wouldn’t go amiss.

She stepped out of the shower and slathered herself in vanilla-scented lotion, before dressing into a simple pyjama set consisting of loose (but very short), plaid shorts and a black tank top. The doorbell rang just as she slid her feet into her slippers. Checking the clock, she rolled her eyes when she realised it had been almost exactly one hour since his last text, the punctual motherfucker.

She shuffled to the door and looked through the peephole to make sure it was actually Reid, snorting at the way the lens disfigured his face in a bizarre perspective, before letting him in. “Reid,” she greeted, as neutrally as she could when she wanted to tear into the pizza box that he was holding. It wasn’t lost on her that it was from her favourite local place.

“Y/L/N,” he responded in much the same tone, stepping in and slipping his shoes off and revealing a mismatched pair of truly bizarre socks, setting them on the shoe-rack beside the door. He’d known her for long enough to know she absolutely did not tolerate shoes inside her home, and she tried not to feel fond.

“That pepperoni?” she asked, jerking her head towards the pizza box.

“Obviously,” he said, shooting her a distinct look of irritation, like she’d asked a stupid question. “Hey, I don’t know your life,” she snapped. “You could be one of those freaks that like Hawaiian.”

“You know, it’s widely considered fact that the components of balanced flavour are ‘salt, acid and sugar’, so by that logic, a Hawaiian Pizza would-“

“Oh my God, you’ve been here less than five minutes and you’re already doing the thing,” she groaned, taking the pizza box from him and walking to the living area.

“What thing?” he asked, following behind her.

“The ‘uhm, actually’ thing!” she says, plopping down onto the couch and setting the box on the coffee table. He rolled his eyes again and sat down next to you, not deigning to respond.

Silence settled over the two of them.

Dying for anything to relieve the awkwardness, Y/N leaned over to grab a slice of pizza, aware of Reid’s eyes on her. She turned to shoot him a questioning look, but he didn’t meet her gaze and pointedly stared at the TV.

Fuck, his jaw was sharp, and his neck was an elegant arch.

An echo of his desperate whine ricocheted in her head for a moment as she stared at him.

Such a sweet noise from such sweet lips, pillowy and plush against hers. If a kiss was all it took to wring noises like that from him, she couldn’t help but be curious what noises he’d make if she put her hands places that weren’t his hair...

When he swallowed and cleared his throat, she snapped out of her stupor and chewed on her slice, turning back to the TV.

Half an hour later, neither of them had said anything. At some point, Y/N had taken the half-eaten pizza into the kitchen, and bought back a bottle of water for Spencer, who nodded in gratitude, but the awkward silence remained.

They snuck glances at each other, but it became apparent they didn’t know how to be civil with one another.

“So,” Y/N started clumsily. “You done anything interesting on your leave? “I- uh-“ he cleared his throat “-Re-read some of my favourite works in their original languages, I wanted to see if they held any nuances that got lost in their translation.” “Interesting,” Y/N said. “I imagine that killed time for about a day.”

“Yeah, it didn’t take long,” Reid laughed quietly. “I’ve spent the rest of the time writing to my mother and watching Doctor Who.” “It’s a good show. Tennant is the superior Doctor.” “Naturally,” Reid agreed, shockingly enough. “Although I’m partial to Eccleston for nostalgic reasons.”

“Who’s your favourite sidekick?” “Donna Noble,” he replied. “I think she had the most character, and her personality complimented The Doctor well.” “I thought Martha was cool, too,” Y/N said. “Even though she was obviously just a rebound for The Doctor to try to get over Rose.” “Some of my favourite episodes are from when Martha was on the show,” he told her and she smiled, smally at him.

“Really?” “Yeah! ‘The Waters of Mars’ was incredible!” Y/N felt her heart flutter at the way his eyes lit up and his mouth broke into a wide grin, deciding to ignore it. “Oh, God, that’s the one where the water’s poisoned and makes the people at the station into- like- zombies, right?” Y/N asked, twisting around in her seat to face him properly. “That freaked me out. Like the one in the library.”

“Where River Song is first introduced?”

The conversation flowed with an ease that was unfamiliar to them after that, and it turned out they had a lot more in common than either of them thought.

It wasn’t long before they were sifting through Y/N’s streaming service subscription, settling on a horror movie they were both fond of.

The Fly.

“You know, even with the clunky visual effects, this movie is still incredible,” Reid commented quietly, not looking away from the screen.

“Probably because it’s a romantic tragedy more than a horror movie,” Y/N said. “It doesn’t need to rely on visuals, the story-telling does most of the heavy lifting.” She turned to him. “Although the ‘clunky visual effects’ are better than some CGI I’ve seen recently.” Reid laughed at that and nodded. “Yeah, I can’t argue with that,” he said.

This was too weird, and it was making Y/N itch. It was making Y/N come closer to giving in to the urge to press her mouth to his.

“Shocking,” she said, drily, trying to shift their dynamic to what it normally was. “You usually contradict me every chance you get.” Reid stopped laughing and cast her a side-ways glance.

“I’m simply correcting you,” he said.

“My asshole you are,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “And don’t start with the whole ‘people who curse are less intelligent’ shit, or I will throw you out, pizza and all.” “And to think we managed to have several civil conversations,” he groaned, taking a sip of his water and rolling his eyes. “Well, it was nice while it lasted.” “I’m being perfectly civil,” Y/N said, knowing full-well that she wasn’t. “Just admit that you get off on proving to everyone that you’re smarter than them.” “You have no idea what I get off on,” he snapped, turning to her. When their eyes met, time stilled for a moment.

She’d never noticed before how his deep, brown eyes flashed gold in the light.

“What do you get off on then?”

The question had escaped her lips without her permission, and she abruptly snapped it closed as they looked at each other with wide eyes.

“What?” he asked wearing a look of pure shock, like he didn’t even believe he’d heard her correctly.

“Nothing!” she practically squawked, looking away from him and ignoring the feeling of her cheeks heating up.

“Did you just ask me what I get off on?” he choked out, looking incredulously at you as you awkwardly looked at him, looking away again immediately.

“Pfffft, no,” you lied, stupid as he’d clearly heard her.

“You totally did!”

“Okay, so maybe I did,” she admitted. “It kinda just slipped out, I don’t actually wanna know.” “Don’t you?” he asked, voice dropping into a husky tone she didn’t know he was capable of.

She gaped at him, not even knowing what to say. “I-“

“I’ve seen the way you’ve looked at me since we kissed,” he told her, leaning forward. “Your eyes keeping dropping to my lips, and your pupils dilate when they do.” He leaned in closer to her. “You also keep absentmindedly biting, licking and playing with your lower lip when you look at me.” “…So?” she asked, not denying it. They both know he was too good a profiler to lie to, especially about something he’d observed himself.

“So, you can’t stop thinking about it,” he said in a voice barely above a whisper. “And you want to do it again.” When she didn’t say anything, he moved closer to her, so close, in fact, that they could feel each other’s breath puffing onto their faces.

“Do you want to know why I really asked you if I could come over tonight?” he asked, lips so close to hers it was agony.

“Why?” she asked breathlessly.

“Because I want that, too.” She gave in.

With both of her hands on his cheeks, she dragged him the extra inch forward and slotted her mouth against his, swallowing down a keen that threatened to bubble out at the contact. His long, deft fingers gripped her waist and pulled her closer to him, and she followed his pull as elegantly as she could to land in his lap.

Immediately, and like she’d been wishing she could do for a long month, she sunk her fingers back into those brown curls and tugged. The soft noise he made against her lips was hardly the high-pitched whine that had haunted her, but it was enough to make her double her efforts, pressing her body against his and kissing him with poorly hidden aggression. He matched her sudden ferocity, sliding his hands around to her ass and squeezing hard enough to have her breath stuttering out of her chest. When he chuckled against her mouth, she bit down on his lower lip, just a quick tug in between her teeth, but it was enough to make him gasp, and she took that as her opportunity to pull his head back by his hair and look down at him.

Eyes blown out, cheeks flushed pink and his lower lip already kiss-swollen, he already looked like a mess.

“God, I want to fucking ruin you,” she hissed, grinding down over his hips and grinning wickedly at the firmness she felt against her. He whined, his eyes flicking upwards momentarily before he refocused on her face. “Please do,” he gasped, rocking his hips up against her, gripping her ass again.

“Already begging?” she teased. He glared at her, but it was hollow, before he reached up to grab the back of her neck and drag her to his lips again.

When their lips crushed against each other’s, Y/N’s hands immediately started to rip at Reid’s shirt, almost ripping the buttons off in her haste to get it off him. He whined into her mouth at her aggression, reluctantly taking his hands off her to slide the sleeves of his button up off his arms, leaving his chest bare to her. She raked her nails down his chest, trails of pink following her fingertips, and he arched into her with a sweet keen. She pinched his nipple with one hand, and he gasped. Taking his surprise as an opportunity, she slid her mouth across his jaw to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck, pausing to bite and suck at the sensitive juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“Oh!” Reid moaned, thrusting his hips against her particularly hard at the overwhelming sensation. “Oh, God, Y/N, please.”

“Please what?” she taunted, continuing to leave marks on his neck, and continuing to tease his chest. She ground her hips against him far more firmly, speeding up her steady rhythm. “I don’t- I- Oh!” he struggled, breaking off into a whimper before he could get the words out.

“If I knew that this was all it took to get you to shut up, I’d have done it sooner,” she said, laughing cruelly when he glared at her. Still choking out a chain of whimpers and whines, he slid his hands up her tank top, cupping her breasts, long, deft fingers pinching her nipples harshly in retaliation. She squeaked, shocked, turning to him with her own glare. He gave her a paradoxically shy little smirk, proud of himself, and it infuriated her.

When she pushed herself backwards, down his legs and away from the bulge in his pants, he whined in protest. She pulled his zipper open, shoving the soft fabric of his boxers to pull his cock out, hot and heavy in her palm; it was bigger that she thought it would be, definitely bigger than average, and delightfully thick.  “Oh, God, what are you going to do with me?” he asked, voice breathless and desperate as he tried to buck into her hand, whining when her weight on his lap meant he couldn’t drive up enough to get any real friction.

“I’m gonna use you,” she told him, stroking his cock deliberately slow, squeezing around his sensitive head.

“Oh, fuck!”

“Until you can’t even think anymore.”

Nodding enthusiastically and gripping her hips, he tried to drag her back towards him, but she tsk’d. She placed a hand on his chest to push him onto the couch and used the leverage to stand up. Slowly, she began to push the waistband of her shorts down, the way he stared at the movement as though hypnotised flooded her brain with a heady feeling of power. “Reid?” she cooed, and it looked like it took a tremendous amount of effort for him to drag his eyes from her hips to her face.

“Ye-yeah?” he stuttered out, almost absentmindedly reaching for his cock and fisting himself in a loose grip. She bit her lip as she watched the tentative movement. “Do you have any condoms?” she asked, hoping to God he said yes. The hope was foiled when he looked at her with an expression of panic.

“No, shit, no, I don’t,” he huffed, and she could see him calling himself an idiot in his own head.

“Fuck it, I’m clean and on birth control,” she said. “Are you-?”

“Yes, I’m clean, Y/N,” he said, a pleading look on his face. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for a whole month, please don’t make me wait.” Ordinarily, she’d tease him, but seeing as she had felt exactly the same way, she finished sliding her shorts down her legs, leaving them on the floor as she straddled him once again. She pushed her hips down on his, grinding her wet pussy over the throbbing heat of his cock and they both gasped. “Please, don’t tease,” he begged, looking up at her with the saddest puppy dog eyes. “Just fuck me, oh my God, please.”

“Eager,” she teased and slapped her ass in retaliation, making her yelp and jolt forward, making her wetness slide over his cock once again. She started grinding down deliberately hard to get back at him.

He threw his head back and gasped, and she took that as a chance to start sucking and nibbling on the column of his throat.

It didn’t take long before he was whining in that sweet, sweet way that made her head spin. “Please!” he whimpered desperately, pushing his hips up to meet her movements, and she relented. Pulling away from his neck, she lifted herself up before sinking down on his cock.

“Fuck!” “Oh, God!”

He was fully inside of her, stretching her out in a dull ache as her adjusted to him. “Fuck, you’re so big,” she mumble, gently starting to rock as the ache lessened. He didn’t respond, and the glazed look in his eyes made her question if he’d even heard her. He grabbed her ass, kneading the firm flesh in a way she thoroughly appreciated.

Slowly, she started bouncing, and he screwed his eyes shut, whimpering quietly at the almost overwhelming feeling of her hot, wet pussy squeezing him. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, jaw going slack as she started moving faster.

It didn’t take long before they we both panting, flushed and desperate as the moved against each other. At some point, Reid had wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in the crook of her neck, licking and sucking and biting wherever he could reach.

Y/N sunk her hands into his hair, gripping it tightly to keep him there as the brutal pace she had set brought her closer to the edge. The way he was practically sobbing into her neck told her he was close, too.

“Reid,” she panted, pulling his head away from her neck by his hair. He looked up at her, flushed cheeks and mouth hanging open, eyebrows hitched and eyes watery. He looked so fucked out she couldn’t help the pride that rushed through her. “Are you close, baby?” she asked him with a cruel smirk, and he nodded pathetically, crying out when she gripped his hair tighter to cease the movement.

“Please,” he begged. “I’m so close!” “Don’t you dare cum before I do,” she hissed, leaning back a little so the hand that wasn’t in his hair could rub her clit.

“I’m trying, I’m trying, but you feel so good! Ah, ah, please cum, please cum, please cum!”

His begging, desperate and needy, pushed her over the edge, her fingers on her clit and his cock filling her up as she toppled over the precipice of her orgasm. She cried out his name as her walls shuddered around him, dragging him over too. He cried out, louder than he had before as his orgasm wreaked havoc on his body, his legs shaking and tears finally dropping onto his cheeks. He babbled an incoherent stream of pleas as oversensitivity kicked in, crying that it was too much as she rode her own orgasm.

Her bouncing slowed to a still and she fell against him, both breathing heavily and flushed.

It took several minutes for both to catch their breath, and for coherent thought to be functional again.

Y/N hurried into the bathroom to clean herself up and tried to not spiral into panic; not only had she has sex with a coworker and totally violated the fraternisation policies at the bureau she’d had sex with Reid. Worse, she realised she didn’t regret it. She should, but she doesn’t, and she has never believed in being guilty about things that don’t warrant guilt.

She supposed it was harmless, really. Honestly, if they had this new way of working out their animosity towards each other, they’d probably be more pleasant to be around.

So, really, fucking him was for the good of the team.

Yeah, I’m totally doing it for the team, she told herself as she finished cleaning herself up.

When she left the bathroom and returned to the living room, his shirt was back on his body and his cock was tucked back into his pants. He was sitting there looking so awkward it was painful, and he didn’t look at her when she sat beside him.

“We shouldn’t have done that,” he said quietly, and she sighed. “No, we shouldn’t have,” she agreed. He nodded, eyes not moving from his hands where they were folded in his lap. “So, what now?” he asked.

“I have condoms in my dresser,” she offered, laughing when his head shot up and he looked at her so incredulous it would have been offensive if it wasn’t so funny. “You don’t want to do it again?” “No, no, I do,” he rushed out with pinkening cheeks. “I just didn’t think that you’d want to! “Well, I do,” she said matter-of-factly before standing up and walking towards the bedroom. When he didn’t immediately follow, she turned around with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming or not?” she asked.

Reid had quite possibly never moved so fast in his life as he followed her giggles to her bedroom.

[moonstruckmoony]

So a long while ago @lamieboo tagged me in this post (I'm not reblogging bcs it'll be way too long sorry 😢) I made some art and wrote a whole one shot for it because it was the perfect opportunity for a Winter lore I've always wanted to make. Please be kind lol 💀 I haven't written in ages and I'm such a noob when it comes to writing, also English isn't my native language. I had to run my draft through multiple writing tools back and forth to find better phrasings and dictions that better express what I want to convey. Roughly ~1,000 words.

Green and Gold

She stepped forward as the wardrobe creaked open, the boggart slipping through the narrow gap in the door. Long, flowing golden threads emerged first, and Winter drew in a sharp breath.

The rest of the boggart soon took form—a woman in a pale blue dress, slumped weakly on the floor, her calf bleeding from a deep slash. Golden locks framed her worried face, and her piercing blue eyes, so much like Winter’s own, locked onto hers. Winter’s hand instinctively went up to the scar across her left eye. The woman’s chest heaved with silent breaths. The faint murmur of the students lining up behind Winter faded until she could hear nothing. Then, the woman’s lips parted, as if to speak.

“Close your eyes, snowflake.”

Was that truly her mother’s voice? Winter couldn’t remember if boggarts could speak. Could they mimic human voices? Or was it only mouthing the words while the voice echoed from somewhere deep within her mind?

Her hands went clammy. A bead of sweat ran down the side of her face. 

She knows what’s coming next. Behind her mother’s beautiful, tear-streaked face, a blinding green light appeared. Winter swiftly squeezed her eyes shut and raised her wand. “Riddikulus,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she kept her eyelids tightly closed.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · · Sebastian went pale, even as the swirling Mallowsweet leaves spun into a twister before him, which without question, the most mesmerising form of the Riddikulus charm he had ever seen. It wasn’t a form he would laugh at, unlike most transformations of the charm. It was breathtaking. But no, what had truly gripped him was the green light that followed her mother’s appearance. He had never seen Winter like this—paralysed by fear, gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. She was always so composed, so captivating. Full of life, curiosity, and wonder.

He hadn’t realised this was her deepest fear.

And it was the very same curse he had cast just last year. On his uncle. Right in front of her. What had she looked like back then? He couldn’t quite remember. The sound of her laboured breathing lingered faintly in his mind, and he recalled her standing frozen for a moment before following him as he fled the catacombs. But the look on her face—he had no memory of it. Was she shocked? Horrified? Traumatised? He had been too distraught, too consumed by his own turmoil, to notice. Merlin, how must she have felt? Watching her best friend cast the Killing Curse—the very same curse that had taken her mother’s life—right in front of her? His throat went dry. His insides twisted painfully. Clenching his hands into fists, he dug his nails into his palms.

Was this… was this the reason she had refused to learn the spell? Not that he had wanted her to; in fact, he had been relieved when she didn’t. But it left him with questions. She was his kindred spirit, after all, and he knew the Dark Arts intrigued her, even if it was purely out of curiosity and for the sake of knowing. She wanted to learn, and had learned the other two curses. He had thought, perhaps, she would eventually ask about the last one, even though he wasn’t sure if he could bear to teach her—not after what happened to Solomon, to himself.

To Anne. But she was adamant in her refusal to learn it. She had said so out of the blue, when they began speaking again after the catacombs—after weeks of silence between them. Now, he finally understood why. And his heart broke for her. “Sebastian? Sebastian, what just happened?” Ominis’ voice snapped him back to reality. His best friend’s face was filled with concern, surely anxious for not being able to see what’s happening. Just this time, Sebastian is glad he couldn’t. He wouldn’t want Ominis to witness her in such a state. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out. He tried again, but his gaze drifted to Winter, who was slowly making her way towards them from the front of the line. Another student—Arthur Plummly, perhaps—stepped forward to face the boggart, but Sebastian hardly noticed. His focus was solely on Winter, her head bowed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body trembling slightly. “Winter…” She looked up at him, her eyes wide. They stood there for a moment, locked in each other's gaze. “I… I’m sorry.” He finally managed to speak. “What... what are you apologising for?” So much. Even though he’d already apologised to her and Ominis countless times, he hasn’t apologised for this one. “You—you know why.” He knew she understood. They’d always had a way of reading each other, and this was one of those moments. “That’s… It’s not—you shouldn’t…” She trailed off. And Sebastian was thankful she didn’t finish. Because he did feel like he should apologise. Even though hadn’t known about this, what he did that day might’ve stirred up memories she had buried deep down. Just like the cursed boggart had just now. Another silence passed before he slowly pulled her into an embrace. One hand rested on her back, the other gently cradling the back of her head. She froze at first, startled, but after a moment, her body softened into his arms as he tenderly stroked her hair. From his peripheral vision, Sebastian saw Ominis approached hesitantly. His alabaster hand tentatively found Winter’s smaller one, which still hung limply at her side, and she allowed their fingers to entwine. Sebastian could see the questions lingering in his best friend’s furrowed brows, but he’s certain that Winter would talk to him–she would explain everything to them when she’s ready.

He glanced forward, aware of the curious eyes from the students waiting in line—some watching with intrigue, others with quiet sympathy. It was a peculiar view, after all: Winter with her two best friends huddled together in such an unusual position. Up front, he caught sight of Amit ducking as his boggart morphed into harmless paper planes flying about after his successful Riddikulus. Sebastian hadn’t seen Amit’s boggart, but he imagined it was likely something ordinary, like a failing report card marked with a dreaded “T” in Astronomy or History of Magic.

None of that mattered now. The only person of importance was the girl in his arms, her trembling slowly subsiding, her once-laboured breathing easing into a soft, steady rhythm.

· · ─────── ·❄ ❅ ❆· ─────── · ·

[femsolid]

Can I ask how does separatism show in your life? Do you have male relatives you have to interact with a lot? I assume you don't have male friends, have you ever had them in the past and at some point you decided "nah, this ain't it"? Are you in a job where you have to interact with men a lot? Do you reduce dealing with men when it comes to other things like avoiding places with men? Sorry I'm just curious about it from someone who lives a separatist life!

It's been very easy. I have no interest in men any more. I don't like their personalities and the misogyny of our daily interactions always jumps out to me (weaponized incompetence, interrupting women, disgusting jokes, main character syndrome, viciousness etc) and I just have no tolerance for it. I'm not a lesbian so I'd say there's 0.1% of men who aren't ugly but they immediately become repulsive to me when the casual sexism comes out, which it inevitably does. I don't understand the "radical" feminists who, after seeing men for what they are, don't feel such repulsion and even claim that we need men to be fulfilled. So I don't date men, don't flirt with men, don't take an interest in their lives, don't play the psychologist for them, don't put extra work for them, don't offer my help etc. I just don't care about men. There's no male relative I still see except for my nephew who is a child. I've cut ties with my father years ago specifically for his misogyny and homophobia. I stand by my moral principals no matter what. I don't have male friends and I never have because I never trusted males nor related to them. And I could never be myself around them. I have male co-workers though, I talk about work with them when I need it. I only have real conversations with my female coworkers. And I only joke with women. As a result, I've noticed, only women sit around me and talk to me at work. The guys have given up. However, my manager is a man which is quite annoying. I keep it minimal with him just like with every other males I'm forced to interact with. I keep it professional and cordial, not friendly and sweet.

I make zero effort to please men physically. No make-up, no tight clothes, no long hair, no shaving, no shutting up, no dainty mannerisms. I'm eating what I want, when I want to, and show no remorse unlike a lot of my female peers. And when I'm angry, I don't hide it. And if I need to say something, I say it. A lot of people assume I'm a lesbian based on the fact that I make no effort to attract men. And it's true that I make no such effort. But I also think that if, to attract men, you have to pretend to be a helpless little thing, you can't call straight or bisexual women "lesbians" just for refusing this humiliation. It's called dignity, not lesbianism.

I like women, I try to help them, prioritize them, support them, reassure them, defend them and push them forward. When a woman speaks negatively about herself, I always jump in to correct her. And when a man attacks a woman I intervene. I distribute compliments and encouragements to women. And I point out the misogyny they confront when they don't see it for what it is. I only debate women because I only value women's mind.

If I have to see a doctor, I'll look for a woman every time. Only and only if I can't find a female doctor close to me will I pick a male doctor. My general practitioner is a woman, my podiatrist is a woman, my psychologist is a woman, my radiologist is a woman, my gastroenterologist is a woman etc. Same with a hear dresser, a masseuse, a fitness coach: only women. I only read books from female authors. I try to watch movies with a woman or girl as the main character. Same with video games or music. Though obviously I'm only human and might enjoy a movie or song made by a male sometimes. I try to support female artists and creators by promoting them, buying from them, giving them nice reviews. I avoid places that are filled with men like a gym or café or profession or online space, and I gravitate towards places filled with women.

That's it, that's my daily life. It's taking care of myself and valuing women. It's easy because I enjoy it and it feels natural. I'm following what my guts have always told me. Feminism simply helped me verbalize it.

[ruvviks]

it's been a hot sec since i've talked about cyberpunk and i was initially working on a fic that would tell the story of this whole thing, but i've abandoned it many months ago and cannot say when i'll be picking it up again SO! i've decided to instead make this timeline. sorry in advance for how much information is in this thing the cyberpunk extended blorboverse essentially refers to the story parallel to the in-game events of cyberpunk 2077 that @mojaves and i came up with. we don't really have a better name for it but at this point the term has been used so many times that i feel like everyone here knows what it is by now, but at the same time we've never really explained the full scope of what the story is by now (it's a lot sorry). so in an attempt to get you guys a little bit more up to date with it all, here's a semi coherent timeline that describes the core events of the story and every branching story that came out of it! for additional background information, you can check out the following posts (timeline 1 / timeline 2 / timeline 3) to catch up with the continuation of the in-game storyline that's referenced in this timeline, but it's mostly irrelevant to everything here save for a couple of referenced events that cross over between the stories. it all ties together very intricately sorry about that. don't worry too much about it i've included my taglist down below to make sure people who are interested won't miss this post, but feel free to skip over this if it's not your thing! won't be doing a lot of this kind of stuff in the future but i'm trying to get back to the cyberpunk roots so this is kind of like, a good starting point and reference point for later posts!

The story starts in early 2077 and is centered around Sebastian Vidal, gang leader of the Cobras and previous test subject of Arasaka Special Programs (the linked page is a lot of information but gives the most coherent overview of what the branch actually is). The current director of the SERPENT projects, Andrew Colton, and Dr. Alana Cartier, both want him dead, to tie up their last loose end before the rest of Arasaka can find out and shut down Special Programs once and for all.

Over the past months they’ve been hiring various assassins in secret, to try and get Seb killed; however, these assassins keep failing, and their latest attempt lies in the hands of Cassidy Shaffer, an ex-corpo turned assassin with a strong moral code and plenty of experience to his name. With little to work with, as his mysterious client doesn’t give out much information, Cassidy starts with what he thinks is gonna be a quick and easy job– but he ends up hunting after Seb for essentially a year.

During this year, the two men have a series of wild encounters that get more and more insane the longer it goes on; it includes, but is unfortunately not limited to, Cassidy biting off a chunk of Seb’s ear, the two of them running over the highway, the two of them getting handcuffed together and chased by the NCPD then hit by a car right in front of the hospital, and Seb sensually licking blood off Cassidy’s face after having stabbed him when Cassidy wanted to strike at a concert Seb is visiting.

All of it comes to a sudden stop when Cassidy learns his client has been lying to him the whole time, and since he does not appreciate lying clients he ends up jumping sides and teams up with the Cobras to do some cleanup duty in Arasaka Special Programs. He and Seb work together to go after a list of targets to get the still ongoing projects mostly to a halt, while remaining in the shadows themselves as to not draw too much attention their way; and during this collaboration they meet several people from their past, bringing back both good and bad memories.

One of these people is Hanan Chisaka, the Head of Security at Special Programs. She ends up becoming the next test subject of Project Cobra after the last successful subjects, Xavier and Gabriel Mason, end up escaping in the midst of the chaos of Hanako Arasaka’s capture in mid-2077. Once Seb’s best friend and Cassidy’s mentor, she’s now forced to hunt the both of them down; but in their final confrontation she snaps out of the controlled mode Arasaka keeps her in and runs away with them, effectively leaving Special Programs without any test subjects. Another one of these people is Reid Bennett, Cassidy’s ex and ex-coworker back at MaxTac. He still works for the corporation and has been on an ongoing investigation into Arasaka Special Programs; seeing Cassidy alive and well, working together with Seb no less, piques his interest and he continues to look further into the case, which will cause him to make a very big mistake later on in the timeline.

By September 2078, Seb and Cassidy have successfully taken down all their planned targets and retreat back into the shadows, leaving Special Programs with many losses and no test subjects. With the APEX program discontinued a month earlier (incident discussed in this fic, which is a continuation of the in-game events), and Hanako Arasaka recovered and ready to take the corporation back from the hands of her corrupt brother, Special Programs ends up having to retreat for the time being, and cook up a new plan in the background.

Special Programs by this point is run by Andrew Colton, Alana Cartier, and Kaida Akiyama, three players who have been in the game for a long time already in the SERPENT projects’ runtime. Colton and Cartier are married– Cartier used to be married to Seb and cheated on him for a good amount of time when he was still at Arasaka– but their marriage is starting to fall apart. Akiyama has had to watch over Special Ops agent Ambrose Hawthorne for a while during his chase after the Mason twins, which ended up with the twins dead and Hawthorne going into early retirement (Arasaka doesn’t know the twins faked their death and Ambrose is now dating one of them lol), and xe is now determined to help Colton and Cartier get Seb back into Arasaka so the projects can continue.

Cassidy’s initial plan was to leave as soon as the collaboration would come to an end, but he has found his place with the Cobras and instead ends up officially joining them.The next chapter in the story is a more laid-back and easygoing chapter, in which Cassidy learns to be part of real life again, and in which Seb learns to let people get close to him again after spending years trying to convince himself he doesn’t need any help. Over the course of a little over a year (all the way to November 2079), the two grow even closer than they had already done, going on gigs together and, you guessed it, slowly but surely falling in love until they inevitably end up together at the end of it.

Not long after the two get together, Reid returns into Cassidy’s life. He wants to try and be friends again and Cassidy gives him a second chance, though this soon enough turns out to have been a mistake, with Reid trying to create distance between Seb and Cassidy and then going as far as trying to sell Cassidy to Kang Tao (one of the few corporations that have been hunting Cassidy down for a while now) in exchange for his own freedom from MaxTac (where he would have otherwise been stuck at for probably the rest of his life). Naturally, Reid can’t watch Cassidy get tortured for long and leaks his location to the Cobras, who find and free Cassidy and take Reid into captivity instead– he does not get killed, but instead has to sit out some time at a safehouse somewhere in solitude, where he gets to decide what kind of person he wants to be in the future.

This brings us to Elysium; a gorgeous spaceship which was supposed to be a relatively cheap escape from reality for everyone who wanted a refreshing break from Earth, but through Arasaka sponsorship has become just another cash-grab project to compete with the Crystal Palace– and considering the megacorporation has its greasy hands all over it, the secret labs in the spaceship are used for a series of very unethical experiments. Naturally so, it would be the perfect place for Colton to continue his SERPENT projects without the risk of Hanako Arasaka finding out and shutting the place down. He sends forces up to Elysium (obviously after his other attempts at relocating the project to space have failed tremendously, having lost contact with every single crew in the smaller Arasaka stations in orbit around the planet), but since he’s not there himself his cousin (one of the CEOs of Elysium), Maxwell Crane, unbeknownst to Colton, takes control of the SERPENT projects in space instead. From the earlier linked Special Programs page: “Project Eryx used the technology of previous projects, but took a completely new approach in the hosts it used; rather than focusing on the human psyche it attempted to create a new type of cyborg which would lack the humanity that caused previous projects to fail. The Cobra chips were no longer used and the software was instead installed directly onto the host’s mainframe. The flexibility of the new hosts– more robot than human, and in some cases the entire human aspect was lacking altogether– allowed for experimentation with highly advanced cybernetic enhancements and military grade tech and upgrades, turning the test subjects– dubbed ‘prototypes’– into dangerous, unstoppable killing machines.”

Things settle down for Seb and Cassidy, but this moment of peace does not last long. In January 2081 the two find themselves traveling to the spaceship Elysium, to investigate a curious situation in the laboratories– they’ve been hired by Arasaka without their knowledge and it’s a setup to get Cassidy killed and Seb back in Cartier’s control.

While in space, they learn that the secret labs have suffered an outbreak of the above mentioned prototypes. They quickly connect the dots and realize Special Programs is back in the game, and they work together with security guards Aubrey Valentine and Leon dello Russo to try and fix the situation before it gets out of hand. Obviously this fails tremendously and Elysium ends up on a complete lockdown after a ship-wide outbreak, which is eventually contained in late March of that year, with CEO Maxwell Crane dead, leaving only his wife Kinsley Osborn behind.

Elysium continues to exist and is rebuilt after the crisis, and Kinsley Osborn can now finally turn it into the retreat it was always meant to be. Previously, most Elysium employees were to be stuck in space for the rest of their lives; however, with Arasaka out of the picture they are free to leave as they please, which results in a gigantic cut in total employee count in the months that follow.

Seb and Cassidy return to Night City and take Aubrey and Leon with them. Aubrey reunites with his sisters; Becca, James, and Rikki, and soon after his return to the city he opens an LGBTQ+ nightclub called Bodytalk with them, found Downtown, City Center, in June 2081. Not only is it a fun place to hang out at, it’s also his main hub as a fixer, and he starts a collaboration with the Cobras to get business going between the gang and the club; and soon enough it grows into a large and powerful network of connections, which is the foundation on which the rest of the stories are built.

After this point in time, many many more things happen but it would take me another hour or ten to go into full detail of all of that, so instead here’s a quick rundown of some of the other things that Bodytalk gets involved in:

Reid Bennett is handed over to Aubrey and he starts working at the club, and he becomes a very valued employee as well as a good friend to many now that he’s no longer fucking insane

Kaida Akiyama returns from Elysium and shows up to Hanan’s doorstep, to ask for her help with getting out of Arasaka for good; much later on, xe starts working for Bodytalk as well, in an attempt to put xyr past behind xem and become a better person

Urban Dynamite starts performing at the club regularly, and it becomes their home base

Luna Serratos, Cassidy’s ripperdoc friend from all the way back to killing era, gets involved in the Harbinger case from Maelstrom (one of the gang’s most feared members); turns out the Harbinger is in fact Reuben de la Rosa, a by then 22-year-old kid who has ended up in Luna’s care with his friend Noah Telavera after the two got caught up in an explosion. She requests the Cobras’ help with getting Maelstrom to let Reuben go

Officer Michele Diaz from Militech (who used to be Cassidy’s boss) is demoted following the lawsuits after the Elysium incident, and her investigation into the incident in hopes to get her job back leads her to Bodytalk; she begins threatening them and sends the whole club and their allies into uncertain times

Many people get married. There’s so many fucking guys here we went a little insane with the numbers but there’s several weddings and there’s a whole polycule going on too feel free to send asks about this if you’re interested

Cobra Cybernetics releases a new line of cyberware, which is incredibly buggy and dangerous to the public; it’s brought to the club’s attention and it makes them realize that Luiza Vidal (Seb’s sister), who not that long ago asked them to kill her husband (William Colton (Andrew’s brother), CEO of Cobra Cybernetics), has gone missing; they now need to get involved without getting the news out that they actually didn’t kill William and that he is still alive somewhere, while also balancing out dynamics between Biotechnica (angry at Cobra Cybernetics for stealing their designs) and Arasaka (the actual reason why Cobra Cybernetics’ designs look like Biotechnica’s designs, because William stole designs from Special Programs after halting their partnership after the Elysium incident, but these designs had been stolen by Arthur Jenkins from Biotechnica even BEFORE that to be able to hijack the European Space Council’s cybernetics following the Frankfurt incident. Are you still with me)

Vitali Dobrynin (fixer and main character from the in-game events storyline and the continuation of it; Vincent “V” Mayer’s boyfriend) ends up visiting Bodytalk after meeting Aubrey at a Fixer Council meeting, which happens in late 2083; this essentially ties the two main storylines together, which means that yes, a lot of the characters from the two separate storylines end up meeting :]

Officer Ulysses Dimakos (used to work with Reid at MaxTac) is sent to investigate Bodytalk following the Cobra Cybernetics scandal, and ends up teaming up with the club to get MaxTac on a dead trail in exchange for his freedom of the corporation

On top of the Bodytalk / Cobras centered storyline, there’s a couple of side stories that are still connected to the whole thing but are more of a standalone thing with only a few touching points to the rest of it all:

This obviously takes place a lot earlier because it’s already mentioned above, but Special Ops agent Ambrose Hawthorne is tasked with chasing after the escaped Mason twins; naturally he lets them go and ends up going into retirement, and Xavier Mason later on ends up becoming Bodytalk’s part-time repair guy on account of knowing Kaida

Gabriel Mason ends up in a car crash with retired security specialist Ames Ortega, who was also in Elysium during the incidents there, and the two end up babysitting Ambrose and Xavier’s kids together while those two are helping Hanan with getting Kaida out of Arasaka (Are you still with me. Blink if you can hear me)

Mercenary Frankie Sayyad gets a promotion from his fixer, Vulture (real name Diana Crane, Maxwell Crane’s older sister and cousin of the Coltons), and becomes one of her Bloodhounds; he works together with Evelyn Harris, Nimue Nkuna, and Beckett Rydel, the latter being one of the very first test subjects of Arasaka Special Programs, and the four accidentally get themselves mixed into a mystery concerning their secretive fixer

Caleb Harris, ex-security at Biotechnica, ends up back at Club Bodytalk not long after the conclusion of the Cobra Cybernetics scandal, and starts working for Aubrey; he is partnered up with Ramiel Al-Masri, a mercenary who has been working for Vitali Dobrynin for a while and has recently joined Aubrey’s mercenary roster too, and together they dive into a series of gigs neither of them had expected

Journalist Bodhi Shankar has finally found more evidence and information surrounding the mysterious cult gang Umbra and its so-called Prophet, Thiago Salazar; however, his antics have led to him accidentally becoming part of the gang himself, and he has to figure out a way to get Thiago to stop listening to the supposed deity that the gang worships known as Scintilla, before she makes him do things that will get many people killed

taglist (opt in/out)

@velocitic, @deadrlngers, @euryalex, @ordinarymaine, @gurathins;

@mojaves, @shellibisshe, @dickytwister, @mnwlk, @rindemption;

@ncytiri, @calenhads, @noirapocalypto, @florbelles, @radioactiveshitstorm;

@strafethesesinners, @fashionablyfyrdraaca, @aemondtargeryen, @radioactive-synth, @katsigian;

@estevnys, @elgaravel, @aezyrraeshh, @carlosoliveiraa

[rubus-yunnion]

Anything for our resident Irish man? You know who I mean

Hello! So sorry for answering your question so late, life has been busy for me. I'm assuming your talking about O'Connor, and I've finally found the time to write down some hcs, enjoy!

° Knows every single pick up line, he knows his way around woman.

° Gets along really well with both Gibbo and Trots, he agrees with Trots most of the time but there are others where he seems to be agreeing with Gibbo.

° Sometimes writes love letters to himself about Mary, always keeps it hidden. Caz did find one of them and started to read it out loud in the canteen, O’Connor refused to talk to anyone that whole week.

° O’Connor is roughly around 5’11, tallest crew member being Raffs (6’3)

° Always hated skating, but the thing he hates even more is ice skating, he could never control his balance, even when holding onto the railings and whatnot. But, he’ll always join his Mary as she loves it more then he does.

° VERY GOOD at pool, if he and Rennick were to compete against each other then there would be war in the crew lounge. And also a free job for scouting the pontoons.

° Speaking of Rennick, he doesn’t actually have an opinion on him, at least not too many bad opinions. Though he isn’t very supportive of how Rennick treats the rig, especially when it comes to the pontoon operations.

° Not the best at singing or playing any other instrument, but he is very fluent in playing the piano.

° Has way too many health issues, it’s surprising how long he’s lived for with all these problems, did in fact pee himself one time, Gibbo was the first to acknowledge and Trots unfortunately had to clean it up for him. Poor Trots.

° Has broken way too many bones in his life, specifically his left arm. Nobody knows why it’s always the left arm that gets broken.

° Although he has broken many of bones, he sometimes pretends that he twisted his feet all the time. Though Brodie wasn’t aware of this the first time and immediately tried to convince Rennick to call a hospital chopper.

° Loves pottery, he’s used to his hands being quite dirty so this never really bothered him too much. One time he tried to make a swan for Mary’s birthday, but it ended up looking like a cat that got ran over 3 times. She didn’t mind it though, actually she thought it was quite charming.

° Pretty decent at darts, though not as good as Finlay or Brodie. Speaking of Finlay, he gets along with her well, though still quite scared of her just like the rest of the crew members.

° Addair disgusts him, his views on the world is something he wished Addair kept to himself. Whenever he gets the chance, he’ll rip immigrant posters down from his walls and throw them in the bin.

° Has a bad habit of whistling all the time, many people told him to shut up because of it.

° Talk ill of Mary and you’ll start wishing Rennick called a hospital chopper for you.

[mannytoodope]

Bob:( chuckles ) Come on out, Jimmy.

Linda: Bob, what's going on? What are you doing?

Bob: We fight fire with fire, Lin.

Linda: Did you rip our bathroom mirror off its hinges?

Bob: It's how we take out the Death Star.

Teddy: I offered to neatly unscrew it, but Bob couldn't wait.

Bob: Sun's perfect. When Jimmy comes out, I'm gonna torch him. ( cackles )

Linda: Bobby, you're going to the dark side a little bit.

Bob: I'm gonna bring him to his knees!

Teddy: There's Jimmy. Now!

Trev: My eyes!

Teddy: Jeez, Bob, why did you get Trev?

Linda: His innocent eyes.

Bob: You said it was Pesto! I can't see... The sun's in my eyes.

Teddy: It's in my eyes too, Bob! I hate you, sun. You came between me and my friend. And you killed Trev.

Jimmy: You maniac, Bob. This Linguini could have been hurt.

Bob: I-I'm so sorry, Trev. It's okay.

Trev: My vision's coming back. Ow. Ow. Ow.

Linda: Jimmy, truce. Come on. We got to do something about the awning.

Linda: Nope. Never.

Trev: But Jimmy, you don't even like it.

Jimmy: Would you shut up, Trev?

Bob: Wait, what?

Trev: Tell them.

Jimmy: All right. It's... It's kind of sweltering under it. And echoey. And during that storm yesterday, some people thought it sounded like the end of the world. I only stuck with the awning 'cause you hate it, Bob. I'm allowed to be happy sometimes, too.

Bob: That's so dumb. Put back the old one.

Jimmy: Then what am I supposed to do with this?

Bob: Eat the cost and feel really bad about it? Hopefully?

Teddy: You know, Jimmy, you got that crusty old trough urinal in your bathroom. You could use this instead.

Jimmy: Turn an awning made from Ferrari bumpers into a trough urinal? Oh, hо, hо, hо. That is the classiest thing I've ever heard of.

Bob: I can't wait to urinate all over it.

Teddy: I'll go get my tools.

Linda: Yay! I want to pee on it, too.

[nogenderbee]

♡˗ˏ✎*ೃ˚ 𝕄𝕦𝕥𝕖 𝕪𝕖𝕥 𝕖𝕩𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕚𝕧𝕖 ₊˚ˑ༄

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ @stellas-starry-stories13 request: woahhhh your inbox is still open

i have t requed genshin from you in a while 🧐🧐🧐

how abboutttttttttt

lyney, freminet, maybe heizou?

with a gf whos mute but has like a ton of personality

like who knew movements of hands and words on a paper could get so chaotic and like could be so expressive???

idk if you get that but wtv

stay hydrated bee!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ I mean~ Last time it was 10 and now it was 15 hihihi

Anyway MY SHORTIE BOYS ONFHAJDHDHS you can tell I'm excited I could write for them >w<

Either way~ I hope you like it!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ fluff

✧ Lyney is a percpetive man. So when you're mute but still expressive, he'll always notice it if he's around

✧ he may be quite a rambler sometimes but whenever he hears or sees you even reaching for your pen, he'll immidietly shut his mouth and wait for you to write what you want to tell him

✧ no one better talk when you're trying to write and show the text... he can accept talking when you're writing but when you finish, he'll quickly shut up the person

"Hold on for a second. I believe my lover wants to tell us something."

✧ he'll be a bit more polite if it's Arlecchino though... or anyone dangerous for him for that matter

✧ he also gets the hang of what your different hand movements mean overtime!

✧ for example, if you're excited you'll swish around the paper energetically, but when you're sad you'll do so a bit unwillingly... And when you're angry? You sometimes rip some paper off by the strength you use on it!

✧ and you bet he won't hesitate to point it out~ Not in necessarily teasing matter though... usually he just wants to appreciate it a bit~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your charming magician~

✧ Heizou as detective is rather perceptive person because of his experience in that field

✧ so despite you being mute, he quickly noticed all your qualities~

✧ he adores how you could express so much without even saying a word... And the more time he spent with you, the more he knew!

✧ he likes how he could immideitly guess how you're feeling just by how your eyes or hands move within time of a second

✧ he doesn't say this out loud just like that though... he finds it much more interesting to just keep it to himself~

✧ though if you ask him if he's bothered that you can't exactly say what you think... he won't hesitate before explaining it to you

"Boring? Are you kidding me? You're the exact opposite of that! You're literally so expressive with your body language. Don't think it goes unnoticed around me~"

✧ honestly, he doesn't even need to look at paper or your sign language to know what you're talking sometimes... he sometimes just guesses what you wanted to say by your energy alone

✧ of course he'll tease you about it... it's his character after all! But he always makes sure to read or see everything you wanted to tell him with utmost attention

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot - come get your flirty detective~

✧ Freminet is a rather shy person so he always valued acts of service a bit more than conversations

✧ not because he hated them, but because they always carried stress alongside...

✧ though with you? Maybe at first he felt forces to talk more... but soon he finds the fact you can just sit next to each other and write

"I know I can talk... but... writing with you just feels so much better... It's like we're having our moment no one knows about... T-That was weird, wasn't it? Uh... Sorry..."

✧ despite not being mute himself, he still prefers to write in one notebook with your instead of talking out loud

✧ as for your way of writing... he can't help but smile gently every time he sees your hand moving fastly around paper when you're excited to tell him something

✧ he never dated to comment it, not wanting to accidentally push you away... but he most definitely noticed it and actually found that adorable about you~

✧ you're probably also the reason why he now carries small notebook and pen with you. Both, in case if you forgot yours, and if you two were to fill your notebook too quickly accidentally... And just because he feels calmer when he has it~

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

@bleachtheidiot @miya-akane @stellas-starry-stories13 - come get your shy diver~

[arklay]

still thinking about the fact that when al proposed he didn't actually ask diana specifically to marry him. and he was like the ring could be a promise ring and not an engagement ring, he doesn't mind either way, cause it's not about marrying her (gestures vaguely at her shit with past marriage) it's about the devotion it's about the telling her what she means to him it's about the wanting to give her a pretty ring he custom designed it’s about

[hellolulu]

[Damian in the Minecraft server excitedly showing Jon his extensive (and ethical) farms that he made while Jon was banned from Minecraft to focus on studying for tests at school]

Jon: ... yeah, you're so shit at Minecraft. Looks nice though!

Damian: ?! what do you mean? I worked hard on these????

Jon: *sigh* I'll show you what a real Minecraft farm looks like!

[Jon brings him to his "farm" and proudly shows off the fact you cannot tell the pixels apart as there are so many animals in one spot]

Damian: I....... have no words for this. Our friendship is about to end over this. Think of their feelings.

Jon: but this is how you play Minecraft 😭😭 next you're going to tell me you don't even eat the animals at your farm and they're just decorative 😭

Damian: I'M A VEGETARIAN. 😡😡😡😡 I MAKE BREAD. 😡😡😡😡😡😡 LOG BACK OUT. 😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡😡

[rainofthetwilight]

minor S2P2 spoilers!!!

this is how roby and wyldfyre were like fr