#neither are the type to just back down and call it a tie

[good-beanswrites]

Hello!! If you're still taking requests for that drabble game, might I request either Strength with Kotoko + Mikoto or Weak with Amane + Futa? It's fine if you aren't doing it anymore, of course

I've been in this fanbase since trial one and out of all the things I've read, your writing is probably amongst my favorite! (Even if I haven't finished going through it all yet...) I hope you have a splendid day! <3

!!!!! You are so kind waaahh this completely made my day, thank you ;---; I'm so glad you're enjoying omg ✨And thanks for these, they were really cool and fitting combos!! I tried to do a dual-perspective of Kotoko and Mikoto's pre-T2 fight, and I posted the one for Weak below.

Strength can manifest in a variety of ways, not just physically. Kotoko had a strong determination, for example. Mikoto had a powerful way with people. She showed solid self control and willpower. He held to strict deadlines and routines. She maintained a sharp intelligence. He upheld an unshakeable resolve.

Also, they were both ridiculously physically strong.

The pair came to this realization around the same time. They’d gotten a taste of the others’ power when clashing in the interrogation room, but it had begun suddenly and ended just as quickly. This time was different. They stood in the center of the panopticon, with the echoing space to themselves. As Kotoko swung a punch toward Mikoto, and he caught her against his forearms, they had a moment to gauge the other’s muscle. 

Kotoko stared into his eyes, which had a different sort of awareness to them now. He’s more coordinated, she thought, he must not be the same one I faced before. He’s leaning on the strength in his arms -- he’s not using his legs to their fullest potential. It doesn’t matter, given the raw force of his blows. Has he trained for fights, or just built his muscles in general? 

Mikoto stared into her eyes, returning her fiery gaze. Fuck, this lady’s strong.

She wound up again. He retaliated quickly. She shoved his back into the guard’s tower. He sidestepped her next attack. 

He didn’t really care why his fellow prisoner had come charging at him swinging, but she made sure he knew.

“The warden may not be able to administer punishments,” she said in between timed breaths, “so they entrusted me with that responsibility. This is justice, for the lives you’ve taken. You won’t be able to hurt anyone else.”

He broke into harsh laughter. “You’re one crazy motherfucker! You’re the only person hurting anyone.” He tried to grab her, but she slipped from his arms. His eyes narrowed, laughter dying away with unsettling speed. “But there’s no way in hell I’m letting you hurt me.”

Kotoko was struck by the way he said it. Her voice had shaken with the very same determination when putting herself between an innocent citizen and some creep. It was how she felt now, trying to keep his violent hands away from the other prisoners. There were children here, weak and scared. Es themself was just a child, and had already suffered his violence. She refused to let this villain cause any more pain. “I’m doing what needs to be done. You’re nothing but a murderous monster.” She swung her fist.

Mikoto caught her by the wrist, forcing her to look at the blood caked in her hand. He didn’t know whose it was, but it wasn't either of theirs. “You’re the fucking monster!” He shoved her backwards. “And I’m gonna kill you for it…!”

He didn’t know how she could think she was the hero in this whole situation. He was the one protecting someone else. 

Neither held back. Mikoto wheezed as her boots connected. Kotoko cringed as Mikoto landed a solid hit on her face. There was some shouting from the hallway. Their resolves hardened. Mikoto wasn’t going to let anyone else threaten him. Kotoko wasn’t going to let him threaten anyone else. They were strong, they reminded themselves. They had to end this now.

The two charged at one another. A moment before they were set to collide, they both cried out in pain. Blinding white light flooded the dark panopticon. They clutched their eyes, stumbling away from one another. A figure shoved through, planting himself between them.

“Stop this, both of you!” It was Kazui.

“Get outta my way,” Mikoto growled.

“This is not your concern,” Kotoko said, blinking in the light. 

The spotlight in the guard’s tower had been switched on, pointed directly at them. Kazui remained in place. “That’s enough. Look at yourselves, for god’s sake!”

Under the harsh light, they now saw the sort of state they were in. Mikoto’s uniform had torn in new places, blood seeping through. He could taste some in his mouth, too. Kotoko’s face was cut. Her leg ached. They stood covered in bruises, panting. 

“Go back to your cells,” Kazui commanded. “We’ll sort this out in the morning.”

Kotoko squared her shoulders. “There’s nothing to sort out. He’s a murderer. I won’t lose to him.”

“This bitch tried to kill me. I’m not letting her get away with it.”

“I don’t care.” Kazui said simply. “Call it a draw. You’ll both tear yourselves apart if you keep going.”

They continued staring at one another as if their gaze alone could take them to the ground, but neither moved to fight. 

Mikoto felt a pang of guilt. Lost in adrenaline, he didn’t realize how banged up he was. He thought of how much pain he’d experience in the upcoming days. The whole point was to save himself from harm. 

Kotoko cursed Kazui for interrupting her. As one of the forgiven, he was supposed to be on her side. Even if he wasn’t honorable enough to see her as an ally, she’d have to be the bigger person. She wouldn’t threaten him. 

Neither was happy about conceding, but couldn't think of a better option given their end goals.

Kazui remained between them as they stalked off to their respective cells.

“A temporary draw,” Kotoko muttered to Mikoto. She flashed a grin that felt more like an animal baring its teeth.

He returned the smile. “You won't be so lucky next time.”

[yanderenightmare]

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: boyfriend Katsuki's strange guilty pleasure, harassment, nasty online comments, noncon ideations, online pervs

♡ FEM reader

“I’m borrowing your laptop, Kats!” you call. 

He’s in the bath, so you’re not sure he heard you, but also, you don’t think it’s any big deal. You’ve been a couple for years now, and living together has only brought you closer. Besides, it’s not as if you’re going to snoop or anything—you’re just going to check something real quick while you charge yours.

You rethink it when you have to write in his password. Maybe it would be better to just wait for your own machine to get ready—it’s not as if you’re in a hurry or anything. But then again, at the same time, it doesn’t hurt to give it your best guess.

Right on the first try—your name and birthday. Though you appreciate the gesture, he really should see into getting something stronger than that. The information he is privy to through his work is quite sensitive, after all.

But anyway. Onto the task at hand. You click into the browser. It’s already got some tabs open. 

You don’t mean to let your eyes wander, but it just can’t be helped. Katsuki sits before this thing, sometimes for hours during the day. Of course, most of it is surely work-related, writing incident rapports and profiles and the like. But this page right here… you don’t know… something about it seems strange.

“Some type of forum…” you mutter to no one but yourself. Katsuki had never struck you as the type to neither read nor partake in other people’s banter. Again, you’d promised yourself you weren’t going to pry, but it only takes a few seconds to read the comments—it’s over before you can stop yourself.

I bet she’s a squealer, like a really cute squealer

I wanna tie her up in an abandoned building somewhere no one will hear her scream

Same, but not on the bed though, on the floor and take her like a bitch

I‘m sure dynamight fucks her every day, i know i would! 

Dynamight’s such a lucky guy I hate him

You blink reading through the comments—completely having forgotten what you were doing in the first place. Who are these people? What are these comments about? You keep scrolling, eyebrows knit, and then you see it—your name. 

She looks like the type of girl that lets her man fuck her anywhere he wants whenever he wants

I’d literally kill for an hour of having her alone. And I’d make good use of that hour. Make her dump that blond asshat to be with me.

If she were my girlfriend, I’d keep her leashed to the bed with a collar. Can’t have other guys looking at her when she’s mine.

I’d only feed her cum. Trust me, she wouldn’t go hungry.

You’re eyes are fully wide now. Are all these chats about you? What’s Katsuki doing in a place like this? Reading all these sick comments as if he isn’t your boyfriend.

“Hey!” A shout knocks you out of your trance—and startles you enough that it very nearly even knocked you off balance.

“What’re you doin’ on my computer?” he asks in accusation while taking hurried and thundering steps toward you—still wet from his shower, wearing nothing but a white towel around his lower half.

“Uh,” you struggle to find your voice, heart hammering in your chest, head spinning—feeling both caught red-handed and the exact opposite. “Uhm, nothing—I just—”

He rips the laptop off the desk, angry eyes staring at the screen—then quickly going round.

His face pales. You can practically see the goosebumps as they rise in a rush across his skin. 

He swallows thickly, jaw-locked—doesn’t even dare look at you as he asks the question, “Did you read?”

You almost consider saying no but decide against it. This wasn’t something you could just ignore. No, you needed an explanation. Who knows? It might be completely innocent.

“Some of it…” you confess.

He shudders, and then he places the laptop down again, slowly, soundless. He rests his hands on the table and leans his weight on them, head bowed, voice small.

“I just… I… It’s, well…” He scratches the back of his neck, looking for the words.

You’ve never seen him like this before. Katsuki is nervous. But you suppose it’s for good reason.

“It’s not what you think, okay?” he declares, finally looking at you. 

His face is something unfamiliar—riddled with this guilty anxiety you’ve never pictured before—frazzled. It’s completely odd.

“Okay,” you say calmly. You don’t know if you’re angry or not yet. You know you probably should be, but the look on the man’s face is making you feel sorry for him.

“I don’t agree with any of this,” he insists, gesturing to the laptop. 

“Well, yeah, I sure hope so,” you say, although the question still remains, “But why are you on there then?”

“It…” He’s blushing—profusely—bright vermillion-tipped ears and apple-red cheeks. He looks away again. “I don’t know…”

I don’t know is an excuse you’ve never heard come out of his mouth. In fact, excuse or not, it’s a phrase you didn’t think him capable of. But look at him now, using it the same childish way a kid would after being caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“You better not lie to me, Katsuki Bakugou—or I know someone who’s sleeping on the couch,” you finally find your strict tone. He’s crazy if he thinks this is something you’ll just forget about.

He sighs and then he falls into his desk chair, back hunched, hiding his face, wrapping his arms around your thighs and pulling you close, nuzzling his head against you, mumbling under his breath, “It’s sick, and it makes me sick…”

You wait, giving him the time to figure it out.

“But it…” he continues. You feel his hands tremble just a bit before he confesses, “It makes me feel good.”

You’re not sure you understand, and so you ask for clarification, “What makes you feel good?”

He sighs again, and this time, his voice comes out dark and lusty, leaving no room for confusion, “To know that I have something everybody else wants.”

♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist ♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist ♡ ALL masterlists

[kekewrites]

tw. mention of creampie, size kink, wholesome(?), reader is unable to speak human language + limited vocabulary, mention of abuse, abandonment issues

Imagine being a puppy!hybrid who's been saved by your current owner months ago. He found you wandering the streets alone, cold and starving.

It was pouring hard and the wind was extra harsh that day. Oh, how pitiful it is to see a hungry little pup girl rummage through the dirty trash bins, hoping to see scraps and edible food. That sight of you tugged on his tender heart, unable to walk away from such scene, he approached with quiet footsteps, not wanting to scare your cautious figure.

Your sharp senses have been dulled by fatigue and hunger as you didn't even notice his presence behind. Normally, you would've bolted away, afraid of how humans have treated you, but the way his voice sounded to your alert furry ears made your guard down. It was different from the people who abused and abandoned you. So gentle, the way his voice sounded like a lullaby.

That was the last thing you remembered after your first meeting.

***

You really are the best pet or companion he could ever ask for. Such a baby to take care of truly. He found out how you were unable to speak human language, often babbling and butchering words if you do try to talk. You do understand simple phrases and tones, which made it easier to communicate with you. He's not that knowledgeable about hybrids but he do know how to take care of a regular dog. It's hard to compare you to a dog or a human, you're neither closer to the other.

He severely underestimate how much of an attachment you formed with him.

It's not a bad thing.

But it certainly becomes harder for him to leave you for work.

"Come on... Don't look at me like that."

He really didn't want to leave you alone. Truly, he wants to be with you 24/7 but he needs to work, or else he won't be able to spoil you.

Your small pout and cute begging eyes, along with your droopy ears nearly made him stay. Nearly.

"Baby... I need to go. Don’t make that face," he murmurs, his voice soft as he takes in your pouted lips and droopy ears, tugging at his heartstrings. He gently pulls you up, pressing a kiss to your cheek, trailing to your lips, and peppering your face with soft kisses.

Don’t worry, he always thinks of you while he’s typing away at his lonely desk, his mind wandering to what you’re doing without him by your side. Were you playing just fine? Eating the meals he prepped for you? Being a good girl for him? His heart aches at the thought of you waiting by the door, staring at it just as he left it.

He never anticipated how slow time would crawl as he counted the minutes to the end of his shift, refusing to let a single minute become overtime. The moment he could, he raced through the garage and drove home.

"I’m back!" he calls, dropping his case of files and loosening his tie.

Thump, thump, thump.

Oh, how he loved the sound of your footsteps racing across the floor to reach him. It was the kind of sound that melted away the stress of the day, the kind of sound that reminded him why he hurried home in the first place. But this time, he wasn’t prepared for the way you threw yourself at him, arms flung wide as you collided with his chest.

He stumbled slightly, caught off guard, but quickly steadied himself, wrapping his arms around you instinctively. Your warmth, the way you buried your face in his suit—it all made his heart swell.

"Whoa there!" he said, chuckling softly as he ruffled your hair. "I missed you too, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes bright with joy, and his exhaustion melted away completely. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close as if he’d never let go. Moments like this made everything worth it, every long hour and every sleepless night. You were his home, his safe haven, and the best part of his day.

"W-Wel... um," you stammer, your cheeks flushing slightly as your little fangs peek out with each syllable. "Wellum... b-back!"

He freezes for a moment, blinking as he stares at you, his head tilting slightly in confusion. Then, it hits him like a soft breeze, the realization dawning across his face.

Were you trying to say welcome back?

His heart squeezes as the thought sinks in, and a wide grin tugs at his lips. Aren’t you just the cutest? He crouches down to your level, his hands gently resting on your shoulders.

"Wellum back, huh?" he teases softly, his voice warm and playful. "Thank you, sweetheart. I feel very welcome now."

You shift nervously, glancing away with a little huff, but your lips twitch as if you’re trying not to smile. He chuckles and taps the tip of your nose affectionately, unable to resist how endearing you look.

"Do you know how much I missed you?" he says, his tone dropping into something softer, almost a whisper, as he pulls you into a hug. "Hearing that from you just made my day, you know that?"

Coming home was the best part of his day, he might quit his work and become a full-time freelancer if it meant spending more time with you.

Then one day came something with you. Your behavior became odd, strange even...

It didn't take too long for him to realize that you were approaching your heat. He read about it while researching about hybrids, the heat suppressants pills already stock in his drawers. The only problem was how uncooperative you were, spitting out the pills, running away when it was time for bathing, and being skittish whenever he was out. You were still his sweet girl, but you'd get moody and have an outburst.

"Come on, it's not that bad... Come here, baby." His voice is soft, coaxing.

Bath time was his least favorite thing to do. Not because he didn’t enjoy the idea of it—cleanliness was important—but because it always turned into a battle of wills. He never liked having to wrestle with you, and yet here you were, backed into the corner of the room like a wary kitten—wait, like a dog your arms wrapped protectively around yourself.

His gaze softens as he takes in your cowering, guarded figure. The way you look at him, a mix of defiance and uncertainty, makes his resolve waver. But the small trail of dirt smeared across your cheek and the strands of hair sticking to your face remind him there's no way around this.

"Baby, you can't stay like that forever," he says, tilting his head with an amused grin. He takes a cautious step forward, his movements slow, deliberate. "I'll make it quick, I promise. No bubbles this time, okay?"

You narrow your eyes suspiciously, not buying into his negotiations just yet. Inching further into the corner.

He sighs dramatically, running a hand through his hair. "This time, no tricks, just a nice, warm soak. You'll feel so much better."

When you don't budge, his grin turns sly. "But if you're going to make me chase you…" He starts rolling up his sleeves, his voice dropping to a mock-serious tone. "Then don't blame me if I catch you."

Your eyes widen slightly, and he sees the tiniest twitch of a smile forming on your lips, your tail wagging despite your best efforts to hide it. In that split second, he lunges forward, scooping you up effortlessly despite your squeals of protest. "Gotcha!" he declares triumphantly, carrying you toward the tub, half-heartedly squirming in his arms.

His smile softening as he presses a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, stubborn little thing."

It was a nice warm bath, you placed on his lap as his arms wrapped around your waist for preventing your escape.

"See? Not that bad, hm?" He murmurs, almost groaning at how blissful he's feeling. The warm and comfortable water around him plus your nice, soft and plush figure on his lap made it ten times better than usual.

You were oddly quiet, your ears flopping. Your temperature higher than normal, he can see how you were breathing heavily.

Oh.

It's starting again hm?

Well, he's here to help... just not with the pill.

***

The scent of your arousal filled the air, sweet and intoxicating, making his own body react in kind. His cock twitched, already starting to harden.

"Hey, baby, you okay?" He asked softly, his voice rough with concern and desire. He tightened his arms around your waist, holding you close as you shifted restlessly on his lap. "You're burning up. Do you need me to cool you down?"

Your tail thumped against the side of the bathtub, betraying your excitement. His hands slid up your sides, tracing the curves of your body through the water. He leaned in close, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I can help you feel better. I know just what you need," He murmured, his voice low and seductive. His hands continued their exploration, cupping your breasts through the water. They were swollen and sensitive, the nipples hardening under his touch. His cock was fully hard now. Pressing his hips up against your ass, letting you feel his cock throb with need. He reaches down, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Your breath hitches, a soft whimper escaping your lips as he works you, bringing you closer to the edge.

"That's it, let me hear you," he rasps.

His tongue laves over your pulse point, teeth grazing the sensitive skin. Marking you, claiming you. His fingers never stop their relentless assault on your clit, pushing you higher and higher until you're trembling on the brink, teetering on the edge of release.

"Come for me," he demands.

And you do, your back arching, a scream tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you. He holds you through it, his fingers still working your clit, drawing out your pleasure until you're boneless and spent in his arms.

But he's not done with you yet. Not by a long shot.

He read that hybrid's heat last long for a few weeks, worst case scenario, for months. It could affect your well-being so he won't take any chances for that to happen.

"Hold on tight, baby," He murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. With a smooth motion, he stood up in the bathtub, water sloshing around them as he carried you in his arms. Stepping out of the bathtub, water cascading down his muscular body as he made his way to the bedroom.

He'll do anything for his girl.

Anything.

[pukefactory]

.・゜✧ IBM LOTUS NIGHT ✧゜・．

╰► Summary: A Compilation of Headcanons Featuring Coral Glasses X A Shy Reader

╰► Character(s): Coral Glasses (Ena: Dream BBQ)

╰► Genre: Headcanons, SFW

╰► Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

╰► Image Credits: @JoelG

›› You and Coral Glasses are both the type to walk into a room, make uncomfortable eye contact, and then immediately look at the nearest object like it said something scandalous (because it probably did). You once reached for the same pen and made the lightest contact imaginable—she physically jolted like she’d touched a cursed relic. You whispered “Sorry,” she whispered “Sorry,” and then the pen was left untouched for the rest of the week.

›› She tried to help you once. You dropped your bag and some papers fell out, and Coral Glasses, after staring at the floor for ten whole seconds, slowly crouched down and muttered, “I can maybe… attempt to hand you something?” You blushed so hard you nearly choked. She handed you one crumpled paper with two fingers like it might explode. It was a bonding moment.

›› Every time you wave at her, she does a delayed double-take like you just threw something at her. She lifts her hand for a wave back, realizes mid-motion she’s doing it too slow, and immediately shifts into fixing her tie or checking her non-existent watch. You think it’s endearing. She thinks she needs to file for social ineptitude insurance.

›› You once complimented her coral-lens. Just said “It’s really pretty.” Simple. Clean. Innocent. She stared at you in horror like you’d just admitted to eating drywall. “P-pretty?!” she repeated. “The—the swirling flesh optics that may or may not be alive??” You backtracked immediately. “I-I meant it in a… strange, uh… bio-aesthetic way?” She still has yet to recover.

›› There was an accidental brush of hands during paperwork exchange. You both made the exact same face—mouth slightly open, one eye twitching, pupils dilated like startled raccoons. Neither of you talked for 10 minutes afterward. She called you from 3 feet away to apologize.

›› She once asked if you wanted to sit with her and work on papers. You panicked and responded with “Only if the chairs are… emotionally stable?” She nodded very seriously. “I will… test them for you first.” You read through resumes in silence, both sitting on different chairs, staring at opposite walls. It was the best date of your life.

›› You both get deeply overwhelmed by any vaguely romantic situation. She tried to compliment your handwriting one time and physically sweated through her undershirt. You tried to return the gesture with “Your tie looks… very tied,” and immediately fled the room afterward. Neither of you spoke of it again, but you keep thinking about it.

›› There was a moment—a moment—when she thought about holding your hand. She hovered. She reached. She missed. She ended up sort of tapping your wrist like it was a doorbell. You froze. You nodded solemnly. “Good hand attempt.” She excused herself to “go scream into her coffee mug.”

›› She gave you a gift once. A stress ball shaped like a sea urchin. No card. No context. Just gently placed in your bag like a shy little blessing. You carried it around for days. She noticed. You noticed her noticing. No words were exchanged. But your souls did, in fact, fist-bump.

›› One time you both said “Hi” at the same time and it caused a full reboot. She glitched mid-breath, you turned pink instantly, and someone in the room actually asked, “Are they okay?” You responded, “No, we are… love-malfunctioning.” She hasn’t stopped thinking about it. Neither have you.

[drabblesandimagines]

Disinhibited

Leon Kennedy x fem reader Established relationship/married, mentions of sedation, blood, bit of spice, absolute nonsense

Leon looks through the porthole-style window of the metal door to the lab and what he sees makes his heart stop. You - his beloved wife - on the floor, propped up against a row of cages at the far back wall, each wrist zip-tied to the bars above you and your head hanging low, clearly unconscious.

You’d agreed on radio silence when you’d split up, the expectation being you’d break it when either of you had located your objective. It was meant to be an easy job – suspicions that the research being undertaken at this particular oil ring was questionable at best, conducted by a skeleton crew. A USB stick holding the files the two of you had been sent to retrieve is now securely zipped in a pouch on his vest, a handful of guards sacrificing their lives for the cause. Annoyingly, a speedboat had managed to get away with the scientists onboard, but a call to HQ had the coastguard swiftly on their tail.

Leon had started to worry when he didn’t get a reply from his call-outs and had circled back, his stomach in knots. There had been slight pushback from the DSO when you and Leon had started dating, and even more so after you’d tied the knot. The two of you remained professional to a fault, but it had been observed that you worked incredibly well together. It brings both of you a bit of comfort too, knowing you have each other’s back - not one left at home wondering if the other one is going to come home in one piece.

You can take care of yourself, he has no doubt about that… But, hell, neither you or he are invincible. He swipes the pilfered keycard through the automatic lock and it takes everything within him not to sprint on over to you as the door buzzes – he needs to remain cautious, scan the area for any remaining threats and then tend to you once he’s established it’s safe. He pushes the door open and checks each square foot, gun raised, finger ready to shoot on sight. The lab is small, just the one room – no outgoing doors – and once he confirms that it is clear, he quickly pulls across a medical cart to block the door as an extra precaution, then practically skids his way over to you across the linoleum.

He drops to his knees, placing his gun down by his side and grasping hold of your chin gently to tilt your head up.

“Sweetheart…?”

The first thing Leon takes in is that you’re breathing. He immediately releases the breath he’s been holding in relief. There’s some tacky blood on your temple from a wound that is already clotting, as well what will end up as a pretty nasty bruise developing under your eye. It doesn’t seem right though – you’re too skilled to take something like that…

He pulls out his knife and slices through the first zip tie, freeing your wrist when he spots a very unwelcome sight – there’s a syringe stuck in the crook of your elbow, obviously administered in quite the hurry.

“Fuck.” Leon pulls it out slowly and holds it aloft, squinting at a small serial code within. He presses his earpiece then, and there’s a couple of beeps before he’s patched through to Hunnigan.

“This is Roost.”

“Roost, Condor One. I’ve located Kestrel – unconscious, looks like she’s been injected with something. There’s a serial on the syringe, run it for me?”

“Ready.”

He recites the numbers, slowly, making sure he’s read them right – a slip might be the wrong diagnosis. There is a tense pause as he hears Hunnigan tap away on the keyboard.

“Got a match. It’s a barbiturate, type of sedative. Good news is Kestrel’s not allergic to any of the ingredients. Usually it’s administered via an IV to keep the patient under, but if it was a controlled dose via syringe she should come round soon.”

“Okay. Good.” He cradles your face with his palm, relieved that it wasn’t something unknown or particularly nasty.

“Did you obtain the info?”

“Yeah, yeah, I got the files. Can we get an extraction?”

“45 minutes ETA, Condor One. Meet it at the helipad – side of the rig - if you can make it there with Kestrel.” He looks down at the map and notes the point, as you let out a soft, sleepy mumble.

“We’re pretty close. Think she’s beginning to wake up. I’ll give her a little longer to come round.”

“Right. Just a warning – that drug is strong.”

“Noted. Condor One out.” He presses the button and the connection drops. He grabs hold of his knife again and slices the remaining zip-tie, pressing a kiss to the indent it’s left on your wrist – bastards - before he places it down gently in your lap, and waits.

--

Leon explores the lab a little further, digging in all the cabinets and drawers he can find. There’s a metal table with some dried blood on it and he reckons after they’d injected you you must’ve hit the deck, or, more literally, the table. He comes up empty-handed of items in search, besides finding your confiscated weapons in a medical tray – he adds them to his own supply, sticking your pistol in his front pocket. By the time he’s finished, you’ve begun to show a few more stirring signs so he makes his way back over, crouching down in front of you to caress your cheek once more.

“Hey, sweetpea,” Leon smiles as you blink repeatedly, trying to get your eyes to focus. “You’re all right, I’ve got you.”

“Huh?” You mumble as the blurs slowly transition into Leon’s face, his features in a mix of concern and relief at you finally regaining consciousness.  

“Took quite the hit, huh?” He drops his hand to your waist and you flinch at the contact, causing him to withdraw. “Sorry, are you hurt there?”

“I’m okay.” You eye him warily as you reply, sitting yourself upright a little more.

“Good.” He lets out a sigh, before rubbing the back of his head. “Not gonna lie, you had me scared for a moment. Come here, sweetheart,” he slips his arm around your waist this time, pulling you forward in what he means to be a gentle kiss, but the second your lips meet he cannot resist taking it a bit further, tangling his hand in your hair to deepen it, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip to gain access within. You relent and he grins into the kiss, darting his tongue against yours and…

A stinging pain on his right cheek from where your palm has collided. There wasn’t a lot of power behind it, but it still makes him pull back. He opens his eyes in alarm and you’re glaring at him, hot tears threatening to spill.

“You bastard.”

The slap, the name – he’s heard you use some pretty colourful language over the years but never directed at him at least – renders him speechless for a moment, his mind trying to catch up with what happened to sweet reunion.

“Baby, what…?“ He reaches a hand out for you again but you slap it away, or at least you try this time - your co-ordination is all off and all you do is bat the air.

“Don’t call me that.” There’s a slur to your words, almost as if you’re drunk. “Back off, buddy.”

“I…”

“I’m married, I’ve got a husband.” You make a point of looking him up and down. “A husband that could kick your sorry ass into next week if he saw you right now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Leon frowns, thoroughly confused now. “I am your husband.”

You laugh dryly at that. “You wish! He’s, like, ten times sexier than you without even trying.”

He looks down at himself then – he’s in his tactical vest, his usual mission get-up – maybe his hair does need a bit of a trim, but… what are you on about?

“I assure you that’s mathematically impossible.” Leon withdraws a flashlight from his belt and clicks it on, trying to direct it at your pupils. “Does your head hurt?”

“Stop that.” You wince into the light, ducking your head away. He only gets a quick glance but your pupils aren’t reacting as they should – a combination of the sedative and a concussion, maybe? You aren’t going to be a willing patient for him to get a longer look, that’s for sure. “Leave me alone.”

“Uh-uh, you need to listen.” He puts the flashlight back in his belt and cups your face with both of his hands, forcing you to meet his eyes. “I’m Leon, I am your husband. You were sedated and I think you’re concussed - that’s why things seem a little confusing right now, but you’ve got to believe me, sweetpea.”

You blink again, tilting your head in a curious manner before squinting. A delighted smile crosses your face as you take in his face, as if he hadn't already been in front of you this whole time.

“Hi,” you say, breathily. “There you are!”

“Hey.” He smiles. It is weird to see you so ditzy, however he can’t help but admit it is utterly adorable. “I’m here, darlin'. You’ll feel better in a bit, okay?”

“Nah, I feel great, baby.” You place your hand over his and tug it slightly so you can lace your fingers inbetween. “Hey, have I told you how sexy it is when you wear these gloves? We should-"

Your earpieces beep simultaneously and cut off your train of thought, as you both answer out of instinct.

“Condor One, it's Roost. Helicopter’s 20 minutes out. Thought you’d like to know the coastguard has picked up our scientist friends. Any update on Kestrel?”

“Hunnigan, it’s me!” You chirp. “I’m fine. Great.”

“Uh-huh…”

“Please tell me this is an expected side effect.” Leon comments, dryly.

“Yeah, sounds like it. Kestrel’s going to be like that a little while – I’m sure you can handle her, though.”

“By the way, Condor One – excellent. Love it, love you.” You poke Leon in the chest to really emphasise your point. “Roost – makes sense. Kestrel, though? Kestrel’s such a dumb name. I want a cooler one.”

“We don’t pick them, you know that.” Hunnigan replies, tapping away at her keyboard – Leon assumes she’s sending intel to the helicopter medic about your apparent state of mind.

“Well, we should. I'm changing mine." You declare, boldly. "My new codename is gonna be… Mrs Kennedy.”

“You don’t mean that, sweetpea.” Leon shakes his head in disbelief. You’d kept your surname when the two of you had got married – antiquated tradition that didn’t mean anything to him or you – hadn’t ever been an issue. “You don’t like it when people even mistakenly call you that.”

“Mm, that’s not strictly true." You pause to bite your lip and look up at him. "See, I’d really like it if you’d call me that next time we do that thing where y-“ He covers your mouth then, pulling you into his side. He’s now painfully aware of where you’re going with that sentence and it’s not something you - or he - will want recorded on the comms transcript for this mission for all time.

“Okay, Roost, I think we’re gonna head off now to the extraction point.”

“Wise.” The connection cuts out and he lets go of you, about to apologise, but you’re already distracted, looking down at what your hip bumped against when he grabbed you.

“Hey, that’s my gun,” your hand ghosts across his crotch as you try to take it from his pocket. He’s quicker though, grabbing hold of both of your hands and twirling you into his embrace, pressing your back into his chest and crossing his arms in front of you.

“Yeah… Best if I keep hold of it for now, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

“But it’s mine-" You protest. He steps you forward, leaning his chin on your crown as he directs you towards the door.

“You can have it back when you’re feeling a bit more yourself, I promise. Just let me look after you for now, okay?”

“Fine,” you huff out, allowing him to manhandle you forward with no resistance. “Where we going?”

“We’ve got a helicopter to catch.”

--

Satisfied that you’d forgotten about your gun, he settled for just holding your hand tightly as he tugged you up the stairs and to the helipad, keeping an eye on the horizon. It should be here soon – then maybe they could flush whatever it was in your system or you’d sleep it off in the helicopter. You’re not a big drinker – you get a little tipsy off a glass of wine – but this as if you’ve downed a whole bottle, your filter entirely wiped out.

“Leon…” You drawl, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Uh-huh?”

“I’ve been thinking about the debrief…”

“Don’t worry about that right now, darlin’. Let’s just get ourselves home first, huh?”

“No, not that one.” You bite your lip, before your hands slide round and down to his ass, giving it a squeeze and then tugging at his belt to slip below. “I have a different kind of de-brief in mind, if you get what I mean…”

The helicopter blades whir in the distance at last and he thanks his luck, pulling your hands back to around his waist and away from his boxers.

“Don’t you want me?” You pout, pathetically, pushing yourself into his chest. “I do,” he hums, “but not like this, sweetheart. When you’re more yourself we’ll talk, okay?” He presses a kiss to your crown and wraps his arms around you, keeping his eyes focused on the helicopter’s approach.

--

You feel as if you’re hungover – head throbbing and nauseous as you wake. You’d dozed off in the helicopter ride back, vaguely aware at some point of Leon carrying you out and a sharp sting in your arm before you’d fallen asleep again. You’re in the med bay back at HQ, an IV in your arm connected to a bag of fluids and Leon’s sat cross-legged in a chair by the bed, typing away on a laptop.

“Hi.” You mumble and his blue eyes meet yours, his smile creasing the corners of them.

“Hi there. How you feeling?” He closes the laptop and puts it to the side, shuffling closer to you.

“Like I drank way too much. What happened?”  

“Those scientists injected you with a pretty strong sedative and you whacked your head. Mild concussion – headache might hang around a couple of days, I’m afraid.” He hesitates then, curious. “Do you remember the lead up to that at all?”

“No.” You shake your head and regret it when the room spins. “I remember us splitting up and then everything’s a little hazy…” Patchy recollections of conversations circle through your mind. “I think… I remember saying some… things. Weird things.”

“If you count telling me that your husband is ten times hotter than me, then yes.”

“What?” You have to laugh at that one.

“Oh, yeah. Then you tried to get them to change your codename, before finally trying to make debriefing have an entirely different context.” He smirks as your face loses colour in embarrassment. “Didn’t think you had it in you, sweetpea.”

“I… I didn’t.”

“Oh, you did." He licks his lips then, maintaining eye contact. "I've been looking up some of the side effects of the sedative – apparently it can disinhibit you something rotten. Got me wondering though - you keeping some secret desires from me?”

“N-no.” You’re a terrible liar - a poker face in front of enemies, but you always crumble within a second in front of Leon.

He gets to his feet then, circles the bed to clamber in the opposite side of the IV drip and pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Cos, as I told you at the time, I’d be very happy to revisit some of your ideas when you’re feeling better…" He moves his lips down, whispering in your ear. "..Mrs Kennedy.”

--

Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x 400 Followers Event.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

[moonlitconfessions]

Episode 2 — A New Beginning

You didn’t expect to see him again.

After that rainy night, you thought it was a moment meant to be forgotten — a kind gesture from a stranger, a fleeting moment of grace. But Zayne Li wasn’t the type of person you could forget.

And apparently, neither were you.

It had been four days since you left the set. Your phone stopped buzzing after the first twenty-four hours, and your inbox, once cluttered with urgent staff emails, was now blessedly empty. You tried to tell yourself the silence was freedom.

But bills don’t care about dignity.

So when your old college friend texted you — “Hey, one of the big studios needs an emergency fill-in assistant. Just two weeks. High-profile set. You in?” — you said yes before you could talk yourself out of it.

That’s how you ended up walking through the glass doors of Studio Apex at 6:45 a.m., clutching a borrowed clipboard and fighting the urge to throw up from nerves.

You were briefed in the hallway by a PA who barely looked at you. “You’ll be helping with Actor Zayne Li’s schedule. Don’t speak to him unless he speaks to you. Don’t touch him. Don’t hand him water unless he asks. He doesn’t like noise. Stay out of the way. Got it?”

You nodded mutely, your heartbeat picking up speed. Zayne Li?

Surely not the same set. The universe wasn’t that cruel. Or was it?

You followed the PA through a maze of white hallways and studio lights until she suddenly stopped and knocked twice on a dressing room door. “Your assistant’s here,” she called.

The door opened.

And there he was.

Zayne stood by the mirror, shirt collar half-buttoned, silver cufflinks glinting on his wrist. He looked up slowly, dark eyes meeting yours.

You stiffened. Please don’t remember me.

A brief pause.

Then he blinked once. “It’s you.”

The PA turned, confused. “You two… know each other?”

You opened your mouth, panicking, but Zayne answered for you. “We’ve met.”

His voice held a calm certainty, and for the briefest second, something almost like amusement flickered in his gaze.

You didn’t know what to say.

Zayne turned back to the mirror, smoothing down his collar. “You’re early.”

“I—um. Yes.” You looked at the floor. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure how long security would take.”

A pause. You could feel his eyes on you again, but when you looked up, he was already tying his tie in the mirror. “You’re fine.”

The rest of the day passed in a blur of nerves and awkward hovering. Zayne’s set was nothing like Minji’s. People moved fast, but not frantically. The director gave clear instructions. The staff… smiled.

Zayne, for his part, remained cool and composed. He didn’t speak to you often — a soft “thank you” when you handed him a warm pack for his hand between takes, a nod when you updated his call sheet. But not once did he snap or complain.

When you accidentally bumped into a light stand, nearly knocking it over, your heart nearly stopped. You were waiting for someone to yell.

But instead, Zayne looked up from his script and calmly said, “Careful.”

That was it.

Later that evening, you were sorting out props with one of the art staff when you heard it.

“Hey, new girl.”

You turned to see the second assistant director, arms crossed. “You messed up the prop layout. The medical bag was supposed to be on the left side of the table, not the right. You moved it, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t—” you began, panic flaring in your chest.

“Then who did? Because I know it wasn’t—”

“She didn’t touch it,” a voice cut in.

You turned.

Zayne was standing behind the AD, a bottle of water in hand, brows slightly raised. Calm, but firm.

“She’s been with me the entire time. If it was moved, it wasn’t her.”

The AD froze. “O-oh. I see.”

Zayne didn’t say anything else. He just looked at you, nodded once, then walked back to set.

Your heart thundered.

You stood in stunned silence as the AD mumbled an apology and shuffled away.

That night, after everything had wrapped, you walked out of the studio feeling something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Seen.

And as you stepped into the chilly air, you remembered the rain, the umbrella, and the quiet voice that had said, “You’ll catch a cold.”

Maybe fate wasn’t so cruel after all.

taglist: @nezuswritingdesk @regalillegal @zainaaryam @bidisasterforevermor @iisjihye @yourcaleb @zaynessbeloved

[hitlikehammers]

🏀That One Time Steve Harrington Visited an Old Friend, Said Thank You 💕, Dished Some Gossip 💅, Gushed About the ♥️Love of His Life♥️, Offered Apologies, and Brought Their Favorite Flowers as a Perk 💐

☕️OR: 4/5 times Steve/Eddie talk to anyone but each other about their feelings (for each other), +1 (other time they turn around and talk to one another)

“Hey Chrissy-lis.”

The first time they’d met, he’d only just learned the word. She flitted around, so fast and wild, and he’d been able to get her to sit still long enough for someone to tie up her hair when he told her if she wanted to be a butterfly, she had to be a chrysalis first—and her in particular, because she was named just right for it.

She’d beamed at him so big. They’d been fast friends. Sports-spouses, someone called them by middle school. They’d laughed over it, but it wasn’t wrong. They grew up together, even if they rarely spoke, rarely saw each other in the off-seasons—a year off made a difference, for schedules and stuff.

And most of what they had in common was sports, anyway. And the shit that happened at home neither of them wanted to say out loud.

Steve thinks that’s what made them work. Neither made the other say it. They both just sat with it. Knew, and didn’t run.

He wishes he’d known she was hurting so bad. He knows he couldn’t have stopped what happened, no more than Eddie. No more than anyone.

Only Eddie and Rob and Wayne know that. They’re the ones who know what he does and what he feels out loud, now—at least more of it—and they stay.

But Chrissy, she’d brought her own little squad to meets, convinced Hawkins to have the most out-of-place little huddle of pompoms, every time Steve dove into the pool.

And Steve got good with his hair—and he taught himself to be great with Chrissy’s, even when she didn’t need the coaxing to keep still anymore.

“So I promised an update.”

Because he comes. He doesn’t stay long. Always brings flowers he holds on to until he leaves. He likes to think she’ll know he’s been here, if there’s any way for anyone to know anything after…

After.

“He is everything,” Steve tells her like a secret, like the little moments of the things they did trade—bits and pieces, school gossip, boys kiss girls kiss boys—between her sitting down and him spinning her scrunchie sky-high around one last time. “He is absolutely the one.”

He smiles—he’s trying not to feel like he shouldn’t smile at her headstone; she was so made of joy. She deserves more than just the flowers when he comes to visit to make sure her shines never dulled.

Or forgotten.

Which reminds him:

“I never did thank you,” which he regrets, because she should have known, but doesn’t punish himself for, because back then he didn’t believe it—or believed it, but with the wrong person, for a lesser thing entirely.

“For always telling me that I’d find that type of person,” and she always said that, whoever he was with would come to any game, any meet, any…any time they sat, him one bleacher above her to get her hair teased high before anyone else came in—she asked it the most about Nancy and he hadn’t seen it, the why.

“That I wasn’t delusional,” which he thought, for sure, once it ended with Nancy. “That I was worth it.”

That he’s starting to genuinely believe now. With Eddie. Who isn’t just the one. Who is everything.

“You were the only person who said it, for a,” Steve swallows hard; “for a really long time.”

Steve fucking hates the people who try, still, to say that some people who die were too good for this world. Chrissy was just too good.

Period.

“If I didn’t thank you enough, I’m sorry,” and he knows he didn’t. But he also knows she didn’t need him to say it to know he felt it—they communicated a lot in what they didn’t say, after all.

“I hope you know my whole heart’s in thanking you now.”

He walks closer to the stone, runs his hands over the top. Sometimes, here, he gets flashes of what could have been, so close, the man who’s his soul and then some could have ended up with a marker, here.

Now’s not one of those times. It’s happening less now.

He looks at the ring on his left hand, resting on Chrissy’s headstone. Maybe that’s why. Mostly he wanted to be closer. Mostly he wants to pretend she could feel the weight of it, the shape of it, and know how much has happened, in how it’s all turned out.

She was never the type to begrudge someone their joy even if she couldn’t find her own. He feels…he’s working on feeling less than horrible about telling her things like this.

He doesn’t actually believe there’s anything after death. Save he thinks he has to, now.

He cannot imagine an eternity that exists without Eddie.

“Thanking you with my whole heart in it, like, that’s a really big deal, now, more than it was before,” he starts to ramble a little around the ache in him, for the loss of her, for the things he has that she deserved too.

Not instead of him, he reminds himself in Eddie’s voice. That she deserves too.

It helps. Even if he says the same in reverse when Eddie comes to see her.

“Because being able to love like this, and someone to want it? To almost, like,” Steve huffs, shakes his head in the wonder he doesn’t think is ever going to die down; “welcome it with open arms?”

He looks at her name etched in the stone. Pristine.

But cold. Nothing like her. They didn’t understand her. He doesn’t pretend he did in just the role of sports-husband to his cheer-wife. But he thinks…he thinks he knew some things.

“My chest just feels fuller, bigger,” he says, tracing the letters, pressing warmth into them even for a moment, because it has to matter; it has to matter more than nothing. “Like my heart’s stretched wide all the time because it doesn’t ever have to shrink itself anymore just to sneak by without getting the shit beat out of it.”

He comes to the end of the deep-carved ‘M’. He kisses the rough top of the stone because, again. Warmth.

Even for a moment. Least she deserves.

“So my whole-hearted thanks, Miss Cunningham, means more now that it ever could have,” he whispers low, swallows against the tightness in his throat; “and it still couldn’t scratch the surface.”

He wipes at his eyes, knowing they’ll be a little wet even before he feels a single tear fall.

He’s not wrong.

“I’ll keep trying though,” he promises and then steps up again, crouches at the base.

“Let me know next time if the thanks feels bigger, like, critique my form, yeah?” he says as he props the bundle of echinacea he’s been holding, letting his cologne mix a little with their sweetness, a reminder she’s not alone when he leaves.

If there’s…any chance at all, y’know. Worth covering all bases, just in case.

“Nail that dismount in the stars, Chrissy,” he murmurs as he stands up and raps his knuckles on the stone one more time, like he always would, light against her shoulder when he’d finished, to her giggling as he tied off her hair:

“Can’t get a ponytail higher than the one you’ve got, now.”

1: Gareth // 2: Mrs. Harrington // 3: Wayne // 4: Chrissy // 5: Robin // +1: ???

💚

✨also on ao3

💫for @penny00dreadful—happiest of happy birthdays, my lovely 🖤

✨permanent tag list: OPEN (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @ajeff855 @allmyfavoritethingsinoneblog @anthrobrat @askitwithflours @awkwardgravity1 @bookworm0690 @bumblebeecuttlefishes @captain--low @depressed-freak13 @disrespectedgoatman @dragoon-ze-great @dreamercec @dreamwatch @dreamy-jeans137 @estrellami-1 @eternal-sunflowers @friendlyneighborhoodgaycousin @goodolefashionedloverboi @grtwdsmwhr @gunsknivesandplaid @hiei-harringtonmunson @hbyrde36 @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @kimsnooks @live-laugh-love-dietrich @madigoround @mensch-anthropos-human @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notaqueenakhaleesi @ollyxar @pearynice @perseus-notjackson @pretend-theres-a-name-here

divider credit here, here, and here

[nayeonie99]

hiiii could u maybe write smth for jihyo again, also i absolutely loved ur most recent 2yeon fic it's sooo good

Nayeon x Jihyo / Enemies to Lovers

Word count: 3320

In the bustling city of Seoul, amidst the towering skyscrapers and bustling streets, there were two individuals who were known rivals in the corporate world: Jihyo and Nayeon.

They worked for competing companies in the finance sector and had a long-standing history of butting heads at business conferences and boardroom meetings.

Jihyo was a sharp-witted, ambitious executive who always seemed to be one step ahead of the game. Nayeon, on the other hand, was equally driven and fiercely competitive, unwilling to back down from any challenge.

Their rivalry was legendary in the business world, with gossip swirling about their constant clashes and heated arguments. However, beneath the surface, there was a simmering tension between them that neither could ignore.

One fateful day, their companies found themselves vying for the same lucrative deal, and Jihyo and Nayeon were tasked with working together to secure it.

Forced to put aside their differences, they begrudgingly began to collaborate, each determined to outshine the other.

But as they spent more time together, working late nights and hashing out strategies over coffee, they began to see each other in a new light.

They discovered common interests and shared ambitions, and before they knew it, their animosity began to give way to admiration.

Slowly but surely, their professional rivalry transformed into something more. They found themselves drawn to each other, unable to resist the magnetic pull between them.

And as they navigated the complexities of their budding relationship, they realized that their connection ran deeper than they ever could have imagined.

In the end, Jihyo and Nayeon realized that their enmity had masked a deeper attraction, one that had been waiting to be unleashed.

So when they were seated in Jihyo’s penthouse in the middle of the night, with the bustling sounds echoing in the room from the outside, with the shining lights from Seoul‘s skyscrapers lighting up the candlelit living room, where Jihyo and Nayeon were sitting in. A MacBook and two glasses of wine, along with a bottle of Romanée-Conti were placed on top of the expensive looking table and there was a tension longing in the air, which both of them couldn’t ignore any longer.

They weren’t drunk, but they weren’t entirely sober either. A bit tipsy, yes. The wine-drunk blush on both of their cheeks gave it away.

“Maybe we should call it quits for today”. Jihyo said, massaging her temple with her pointer and middle finger.

All the work gave her an headache, but Nayeon’s scent made her headache even worse.

Nayeon always smelled so good, so intensely sweet, like bergamot and lemon. It drove Jihyo insane.

Nayeon in general drove her insane. The way she talks, the way she stares, the way she gestures, the way her beautiful, long fingers typed away on the keyboard of her MacBook.

All these things made Jihyo go crazy.

“Yeah, maybe we should”. Nayeon huffed out, while she moved her hand to her hair tie, to take it off, letting her long brown hair fall down her shoulders and back.

Jihyo gulped.

She never saw Nayeon with her hair down. The tight ponytail always made her look arrogant and strict. But this Nayeon looked cute and innocent.

“Is everything okay, Jihyo-ssi?”. Nayeon asked, while she was staring at Jihyo with her beautiful dark eyes.

“Y-Yes, everything’s fine. I guess I’m just exhausted. It was a pretty rough and long day after all, for the both of us”.

“Yes, we did work really hard today. Let’s keep up the good work, yeah?”. Nayeon smiled and Jihyo’s heart started pounding.

“Yes, definitely”. Jihyo smiled back, saving the stuff they had so far in her work file on the MacBook before turning it off.

Both of them flinched when a huge lightning bolt struck outside, rain pouring down on the concrete, turning it dark.

“Are you sure you want to leave? Maybe you should wait until it stopped raining?”. Jihyo asked, while another lightning struck.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna get soaked on my way home”. Nayeon said and kicked off her Valentino shoes.

“If-If you want you can also stay the night. We have to go to the same work place anyway, so we could drive to work together tomorrow”. Jihyo suggested with a tiny blush creeping up on her cheeks.

“If that’s okay with you, then sure I would take your offer. Thanks Jihyo-ah”. Nayeon smiled at her. Jihyo gulped at the informal name Nayeon called her, she really liked it.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?”. Nayeon asked and now Jihyo had to picture Nayeon naked under her shower, with hot water running down her slender figure. She felt her cock twitch at the thought of that.

“Yes of course. Let me grab you some of my clothes”. Jihyo smiled and walked into her room, where she grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt for Nayeon, along with a pair of black Calvin Klein boxers.

“Here you go”. Jihyo held out her clothes for Nayeon to take, but when Nayeon looked at the boxer shorts she had to smirk.

“Never would’ve thought you are that type of girl”. Nayeon grinned, while Jihyo blushed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”.

“Oh I don’t know. I just thought you’re more of a lingerie and strings type of person”. Nayeon smugly grinned.

“Well, I do like that, but not on me”. Jihyo rasped out and scanned Nayeon from head to toe.

“Then why do you have boxers though? Don’t tell me you have a secret boyfriend I don’t know about”. Nayeon gasped and Jihyo rolled her eyes.

“Okay so first of all, I don’t have a boyfriend. Second of all I’m into women, and third of all, if I would have a boyfriend I would be pretty concerned that he may be into men and not women”.

Now Nayeon completely lost track of the conversation.

“I think I can’t quite follow you right now”.

“I have a dick, Nayeon”. Jihyo straightforwardly says and Nayeon’s face starts burning in embarrassment.

Of course her eyes automatically dart down between Jihyo’s legs. And now that she knows, it is quite obvious. Jihyo was huge.

“W-Well, I wasn’t expecting that, I guess”. Nayeon bit her lip.

“It’s okay, I was surprised you didn’t know though. It’s not like I can hide it well”. Jihyo smirked, knowing pretty well how gifted she is between her legs.

“Y-Yeah, I can tell”. Nayeon husked out.

“How about you?”. Jihyo asked and Nayeon’s eyes shot up to hers.

“What do you mean?”.

“What are you into? Men? Women? Both?”.

“Why would I tell you that?”. Nayeon scoffed and clenched her hands into the clothes in her hand.

“I think, since you found out something intimate about me, it would be only fair for me to find out something intimate about you, don’t you agree?”.

“Well, I’m not really into labels. When the chemistry is right I don’t mind if it’s a woman or a man”. Nayeon said and Jihyo just hummed at the information.

“Alright, well the bathroom is over there”. Jihyo pointed to a door on the right. Nayeon just nodded and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind her.

She quickly stripped down and stepped under the warm water of the shower head, letting her hair and body get soaked in.

She used Jihyo’s body wash, her shampoo and conditioner. Jihyo always smelled absolutely amazing.

When she finished her shower, she turned off the water and stepped out of the huge glass cabin.

Nayeon grabbed a black towel out of the drawer and started drying her body and hair, before putting on the clothes Jihyo gave her earlier.

She smirked to herself when she put the boxers on, staring at herself in the huge mirror hanging above the bathroom sink.

She decided, since the boxers were basically shorts to her, that she will just put on the oversized shirt and not put on the shorts.

When she was finished with everything she left the bathroom, walking back into the living room, where Jihyo was sitting on the couch.

Jihyo had to gulp when she saw Nayeon in her boxers and shirt. She looked so sinfully good in her clothes.

“Thanks for the shower. I feel much better now”. Nayeon smiled and plopped down next to Jihyo on the couch.

“You’re welcome, Nayeon-ah. No need to thank me”. Jihyo smiled back.

“Nayeon-ah?”. Nayeon smirked and Jihyo had to smirk slightly as well, “Yeah, is that okay?”. Jihyo asked and stared at her with her seductive, dark eyes.

“Yes, of course… Jihyo-yah”. Nayeon grinned, making Jihyo smile.

“So… do you think we will be able to seal the deal?”. Jihyo asked and Nayeon playfully rolled her eyes, “Jihyo, please. Let’s not talk about work right now. We always do that”. Nayeon rested her head on the palm of her hand, staring at Jihyo.

“What do you wanna talk about then?”. Jihyo asked and took off her black blazer, unbuttoning a few buttons of her white shirt, while rolling up her sleeves.

Nayeon licked her lips unintentionally while she was observing Jihyo, “I don’t know. We barely know anything about each other. Tell me something about yourself”.

“Alright sure. I’m actually a really funny person. I know I seem uptight at work but it’s just a facade I put up to get respected from other people”.

Nayeon cocked a brow, smirking at her, “You? Funny? That’s hard to believe”. She snickered.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I can be really funny if I want to be”. Jihyo scoffed and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“Sure, whatever you say. And I always thought you’re so uptight because your sex life is just super boring ”. Nayeon smirked.

“Wow, thank you. And for your information it is not boring, not at all”. Jihyo scoffed once again.

“Oh really? When was the last time you had sex then?”. Nayeon asked and leaned her back against Jihyo’s comfortable couch.

“That’s none of your business”. Jihyo glared and Nayeon just smirked, “That long, huh?”.

“When was your last time then?”.

“Around 3 weeks ago actually. The project right now is consuming all my time. Otherwise I would’ve did it much more”.

“I see, so you like to fuck around?”. Jihyo asked and Nayeon scoffed, “I’m not a slut, Jihyo. I know all of the people I had sex with. I would never fuck a stranger, that’s gross”.

“I never said you are a slut. Although I feel like you are a slut in bed”. Jihyo straightforwardly said, making Nayeon’s eyes widen.

“What makes you think that?”.

“I don’t know. You give me this vibe of always spitting words and pretending you’re in control, but in reality you just want to get used and get your brain fucked out”.

Nayeon’s face turned crimson red. She just stared at Jihyo, completely shocked. I mean, Jihyo wasn’t wrong. That was exactly what Nayeon liked.

“I’m right, aren’t I?”. Jihyo smugly grinned. Nayeon smacked her arm playfully, making Jihyo giggle, “Knew it”. She smirked.

“So what? A lot of women like that”. Nayeon defended herself.

“I know. Those are the women I prefer in bed”. Jihyo said and Nayeon gulped.

“So… I would be your taste in women?”. Nayeon asked curiously.

“Maybe”. Jihyo smirked and Nayeon whined, “Tell me”. She huffed out, grabbing Jihyo’s shoulder.

“So what if you were? Would you let me fuck you?”. Jihyo rasped out, head turning to stare at Nayeon.

Nayeon blushed, her grip tightening against Jihyo’s shoulder.

“Maybe”. Nayeon smirked back, her heart was pounding against her rib cage.

“Hmm, I see”. Jihyo hummed.

“What do you see?”.

“I see the way you stare at me from across the room, or the way you press your thighs together when we have business meetings with our colleagues. I see the way you stare at my lips sometimes when I’m talking, or the way you gulp when I look into your eyes. I see the way your eyes turn hazed when we are working together, or how your hands ‘accidentally' graze my hand or arm. You think you’re so slick, but you’re the whole opposite”. Jihyo said, staring at Nayeon the whole time she was talking.

Nayeon was so shocked, she couldn’t even find words. Jihyo saw right through her. Jihyo knew, she knew all the this time.

“And? Aren’t you going to do something about that?”. Nayeon croaked out.

“Do you want me to do something about it?”. Jihyo asked and got closer to Nayeon.

“What if I do? Would you?”. Nayeon gulped when she felt Jihyo pulling her on her lap. She could feel Jihyo’s boner pressing into her crotch.

“Yes, of course I would. I always wanted to see you fall apart for me”. Jihyo husked out, which made Nayeon moan slightly.

“All you have to do is ask, sweetie”. Jihyo said, caressing Nayeon’s cheek with her thumb, letting her thumb run over Nayeon’s bottom lip.

“Fuck me, please?”. Nayeon breathed out, wrapping her arms around the back of Jihyo’s neck, before pressing her lips against Jihyo’s.

Jihyo sighed into the kiss, wrapping her arms around Nayeon’s slim waist, sliding her tongue into the older woman’s mouth.

Nayeon moaned into Jihyo’s mouth when Jihyo palmed her ass in her hands, massaging it gently.

While they were making out, Nayeon started unbuttoning the rest of the buttons of Jihyo’s shirt, before taking it completely off, along with Jihyo’s bra.

Jihyo quickly took off the shirt Nayeon was wearing, revealing her naked chest to her. Jihyo’s mouth almost started watering at the sight in front of her.

Nayeon looked so fuckable right now, it drove Jihyo completely insane.

As they continued to explore each other's bodies with a fervent passion, their previous animosity melted away completely, replaced by a newfound intimacy and connection. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to the depth of their desire for one another.

They were both naked now, pressed against each other’s body, feeling the other persons heart beat.

“Jihyo”. Nayeon moaned out when she felt Jihyo’s tip sliding through her soaked folds.

“What is it?”. Jihyo hummed, pressing chaste kisses against Nayeon’s collarbones.

“Put it in”. Nayeon huffed out.

“Hmm, you want it in?”. Jihyo rasped out, smacking her tip against Nayeon’s clit. The wet noises of Nayeon’s pussy echoed through the room.

“Please”. Jihyo just smirked before pulling Nayeon down on her length, stretching her out.

“Holy shit”. Nayeon whispered, clenching her hands into Jihyo’s dark hair. Jihyo grabbed Nayeon’s hips tightly with her hands, before she started thrusting into her.

“You feel so good”. Nayeon moaned out, pressing her forehead against Jihyo’s.

“Yeah? You like how my cock feels inside of you, baby?”. Jihyo huffed out between thrusts, spanking Nayeon’s ass.

“Y-Yes, so fucking much. I feel so full”. Nayeon cried out when Jihyo picked up the pace, now pounding into her.

“Look at you, clenching around my dick like the little slut you are. You like getting fucked like that, don’t you?”. Jihyo smirked, spanking her once again.

Nayeon just cried out, pressing her face in the crook of Jihyo’s neck. Jihyo pulled her head up by her hair though, making them look at each other.

“Are you my little fuck toy?”. Jihyo grinned, spanking her again.

Nayeon’s mouth gaped open at how good Jihyo was fucking her, but no words came out.

“What’s the matter? Does my cock feel so good you forgot how to speak now?”. Jihyo scoffed, once again spanking her.

“Y-Yes”. Nayeon cried out. Tears were now forming in her eyes at how fast Jihyo was pounding her.

“Yes what?”. Another spank.

“I’m your little fuck toy”. Nayeon smirked, scratching the back of Jihyo’s neck. Jihyo quickly grabbed Nayeon’s wrists, folding them across from each other, to hold them behind Nayeon’s back, pinning them there.

“Yeah, that’s right”. Jihyo hummed, sliding her thumb into Nayeon’s mouth, so she could suck on it, which she instantly did.

Jihyo was on cloud nine right now. Watching Nayeon sit on her lap, while she was watching her dick pounding into Nayeon’s wet pussy, coating her length with her wetness was just pure bliss for Jihyo.

She could feel Nayeon’s legs starting to tremble and her pussy starting to clench around her dick.

“Hmm, are you close?”. Jihyo asked and Nayeon nodded, “Yeah, I can tell. Your pussy is clenching around me so hard”. Jihyo cooed.

“Please”. Nayeon cried out, throwing her head back in pleasure.

“Please what?”.

“Please let me cum”. Nayeon begged and Jihyo felt her cock twitching inside of her.

“Sure, go ahead sweetie. Cum all over me”. One last spank and Nayeon climaxed, glazing Jihyo’s dick with her cum.

“Mhm, that’s a good girl”. Jihyo hummed, before turning them around, pressing Nayeon’s back against the couch, lifting her arms up above her head, so they were loosely hanging over the back of the couch.

“Spread your legs”. Jihyo breathed out, making Nayeon shiver at how raspy her voice got. Nayeon instantly obliged, spreading her legs, holding them apart with her hands.

“Hmm, that’s good”. Jihyo hummed, letting her tip run through Nayeon’s slit again, before slamming into her in one go.

Nayeon’s eyes rolled to the back of her head, moaning loudly at the way Jihyo instantly started slamming into her.

Nayeon was making the lewdest noises Jihyo has ever heard, and she loved every second of it.

“Look at you, moaning like the little slut you are”. Jihyo moaned, spanking Nayeon’s clit with her palm, making Nayeon gasp. Jihyo wrapped her hand around Nayeon’s neck, choking her slightly.

They were staring at each other, both of their mouths were gaped open, leaving ragged breaths and moans.

Nayeon’s hands wrapped tightly around Jihyo’s right wrist, clenching her nails into Jihyo’s skin.

“You look so good like this. You’re so beautiful”. Jihyo whispered out, as if she is telling Nayeon her biggest secret.

Nayeon let out a moan, her hips thrusting up to meet Jihyo’s own thrusts.

Jihyo leaned down to press their lips into a sloppy kiss. Nayeon kept moaning into her mouth, clenching her hands into Jihyo’s hair, letting out moan after moan.

When Jihyo started rubbing her clit, while she kept pounding into Nayeon with their skin slapping together harshly, it didn’t take long until Nayeon reached another orgasm. This time squirting all over Jihyo’s thighs and cock, making Jihyo cum as well.

Jihyo quickly pulled out of her, jerking her cock off, while she was shooting her cum over Nayeon’s tits and belly.

They were both panting heavily, completely out of breath. Jihyo leaned down to pull Nayeon into a passionate kiss, their tongues instantly started swirling around each other, fighting for dominance.

Jihyo won, of course.

As their passionate embrace continued, Jihyo gently caressed Nayeon's cheek, their bodies still trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

“I've never felt so alive”. Nayeon whispered, her voice filled with adoration.

Jihyo smiled tenderly, brushing a strand of hair away from Nayeon's face. “You make me feel things I never knew were possible”. She confessed, her heart swelling with affection.

Their connection deepened with each tender word exchanged, and as they basked in the warmth of their shared love, the world around them seemed to fade away.

Nayeon leaned in to rest her forehead against Jihyo's, their breaths mingling in the space between them. “I never want to lose this feeling”. Nayeon murmured, her eyes shining with sincerity.

Jihyo's heart skipped a beat, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion in Nayeon's words. “I promise to cherish every moment with you”. She vowed, her voice steady with conviction.

With a gentle touch, they sealed their promises with a kiss, holding each other in their arms, feeling the other person’s warmth.

[tanktopdiaz]

so, once a month mayravi go on what they call "undercover dates", right? neither of them really know when or why they started, but the gist is that, once a month, instead of going on a normal date, like dinner or a movie or a hike or fun activity or whatever, they dress up and go on a date "undercover". they'll come up with a whole backstory and fake names for their characters and their relationship and just try and stay in character for the entire duration of the date (first one to break character or start laughing has to pay or can't come until the other person has come twice or something. the stakes change every time).

which leads to rich sugar mama tech investor "London" taking her little boytoy "Brooklyn" to an apartment showing wearing athena's red fur coat (hidden at the back of the closet but may found it anyways) and they make out obnoxiously and call each other the weirdest little petnames for the entire showing before "London" decides the apartment won't be for them because the wall colour makes "Brooklyn"'s skin look too green. or they dress up in all black and put in fake ear pieces while they sit at a corner in some wafflehouse in the middle of the night, only referring to each other as "agent 118" and "agent 911" the entire time while coming up with background stories for all the other people at the waffle house. they leave an insanely large tip and call it "hush money" to the waitress with a wink. or ravi picks her up from her apartment in a suit and tie wearing sunglasses while she's dressed to the nines and pretends to be her bodyguard/chauffeur the entire evening while his friends pretend to be paparazzi (there's a deux moi thing about some "stunning new talent sighted in hollywood for some secret scorcese project" with her picture and ravi swears up and down he didn't send it in). oh and sometimes it's more lowkey but drives the fam absolutely wild, like the time they spend and entire backyard bbq with may referring to ravi as may and ravi referring to may as ravi.

AGENT 118 AND AGENT 911 im cheeeeessing omfgggggg. I wonder who would break first.....I'll tell u, I think itd be ravi. I think may would even goad him with teasing lil smiles like shes maaayyybe going to break and then he breaks and she rubs it (amongst other things) in his face all night.

THE DEUX MOI!!!!!! I AM KISSING YOU AND KISSING YOU oh my god!!!!!! thatd be so fuckin fun and so up their alley 😭😭😭

Okay omg the dates. im getting a vision. theres another building nearby that just got bought out and they're trying to rent the units for wayyyyyy above cap like ridiculous, but somehow its pricing ravi out of his units or causing a stink there where its messing up his renting ability. oh maybe we wants to buy a building but the numbers r all fucked bc of some zillow type shit. so they dress up all homey and comfy and go to tour the units as prospective renters/buyers (omg and May's babysitting that day so they have baby boy han 🥺) to take pictures/get evidence of the landlord being a slumlord/the building being overvalued in a mission impossible style date night. and the end of the day shes like whoo! glad my landlord isnt like that guy. and ravi (not her landlord) goes maybe...you wouldnt have to have a landlord, if you didn't want to? boom now they live together

[leafypaws2]

Random Ninjago headcanons bouncing around my brain

❄️•Zane gets called Elsa so often that it becomes second nature to everyone (besides Wu, Misako, etc) to call him Elsa. P. I. X. A. L doesn't call him Elsa but she does call him her "snowflake" or "ice Prince"

🌊• Nya is one of the tallest members on the team (Cole is the tallest, then Zane and Nya comes third)

🔥🌊• Before they reunited with their parents in Hands of Time Kai and Nya went back to their home town and visited their families blacksmith shop as often as they could. They usually just talk about funny childhood memories while walking around the shop. One of their kind neighbours offered to look after it when Kai and Nya left to join Master Wu and the ninja officially.

🔥🌊/💚• when they were younger Nya would sometimes find it hard to sleep so she'd sneak into her brothers room as quietly as she could and curl up against his back. Even before unlocking his elemental powers Kai's body heat was slightly higher than normal making him a walking talking heater so the heat of his body, the reassurance that she wasn't alone and he wasn't going anywhere usually lulled her to sleep but on the off chance it didn't she'd wake him and ask him to tell her stories. Kai became really good at making up stories on the fly and when Lloyd came into the picture years later Kai would tell him bedtime stories if he was finding it hard to sleep.

⚡️🪨• Cole and Jay have matching friendship bracelets. When he's nervous or doesn't know what to do with his hands Jay messes with the bracelet as a way to ground himself. Neither of them ever take the bracelets off even during the events of Rebooted + Tournament Of Elements when they were fighting over Nya they both REFUSED to take them off.

🌊⚡️• Jay was the one who taught Nya how to do makeup.

🔥⚡️• Kai and Jay tie for shortest members on the team.

🔥• Kai enjoys sunbathing

🪨• While he doesn't work as a lumberjack anymore, Cole still goes out into the forest near the monastery and chops wood. He finds it helps him let off steam.

❄️• Zane enjoys wordsearches, in the evening after dinner he'll sit in his armchair, a cup of tea beside him (for the aesthetic- he's a robot he can't drink tea) and do his wordsearch until its time for nightly patrol.

🔥• When blacksmithing wasn't working out and money was tight, Kai would babysit some of the younger kids in their small village for extra cash. He thought that might entice Nya to make friends, but she was a lone wolf type often holding herself up in her room tinkering or down in the blacksmith shop.

🌊• Nya would venture down to her villages local dump and salvage parts from the old appliances. She would bring them home and tinker with them in her room.

Gif isn't mine<33

[machatheo]

stuck with you

pairing: jay x reader

genre: fluff

words: ~2k

summary: no one wishes getting stuck in an elevator when you’re already late to your work as it is. but getting stuck with a handsome man you’ve never seen? hell yes.

a/n: hello! i am back with another short drabble :> hope you like this and i am sorry if there’s any mistakes, i finished editing this at 2am…

— —

it’s raining and you’re running for your dear life, holding up your briefcase above your head because you’re just unlucky as it is, cue: after taking one look at the sky before you left your house, you did not think it would be pouring literally half an hour later. the tall building, one you get the honors to call your workplace, finally reveals itself in your vision and you hasten your steps to reach the doors.

just in time, as a drop of water hits the back of your head, making you shiver. you slip inside the building, sighing with relief as the doors close. your office is at the twentieth floor of the building and you don’t take a second to slip into one of the elevators. you take a second to look at yourself in the mirror and, god, you’re drenched. you huff as you try to at least fix your hair, although it doesn't help much. you settle on taking off your jacket, which is wet and uncomfortable, but it is better than looking like a drowned cat.

as you turn around and are just about to press the button to close the doors, you see a man running towards you, hand reaching forwards as if to indicate to hold the door, which you do.

“thank you,” the man utters and slightly bows to your direction as you shuffle to the side to give him more space. you give him a small smile in return. as the elevator begins to move up, your eyes divert to the man.

the man is tall, dressed in a well-tailored gray suit, black tie, black shoes. he has a long face, with high cheekbones, which accentuate a sharp jawline. his dark eyes contrast well with his pale skin and short, black hair. he’s very handsome you think, but then quickly shake your head to empty your thoughts of another hopeless office romance.

as expected, you both stay in silence and you look at the floor numbers, the doors, your shoes, anywhere but the man beside you.

then suddenly the elevator makes a rumbling sound and the lights in the elevator turn off, as if the power has gone out. it all happens in a blink and your breath hitches.

the only thing that lights the place up now is the small emergency light, which is shining a dull green color, almost unnoticeable in the darkness.

a shiver goes up your spine.

you press the button on the panel for the elevator to open the doors but nothing happens. you frown, and try it again. nothing happens.

you feel your chest getting tighter, your breathing gets more shallow and you begin to panic.

the man next to you also looks restless as he begins typing the emergency number into his phone. the call is not being received. you bite the inside of your cheek.

you're not claustrophobic, but the enclosed space and lack of air circulation in the elevator does not help your case.

“are you okay?” you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder and when you look to the side, the man is looking down at you.

you nod. you take a deep breath to calm your nerves and swallow thickly.

you try the button again and again, to no avail. you sigh and rest your forehead against the panel, trying to compose yourself, “i am just… not a fan of this situation.”

“me neither. the call to the emergency services is not going through either, i didn't get any response, not even a voice telling me to try again later, which is usually the case when the call is not being picked up by someone from the other side,” the man sighs, “i think we might be stuck in here for awhile”

“oh” is all you can say as you slide down the elevator wall to the ground. your clothes are still wet and it’s uncomfortable and also getting quite chilly but there’s nothing you can do. you run a hand through your hair, mussing it more.

the man walks towards you, his steps making the lights flickering on the elevator. he crouches to sit beside you, taking off his coat and draping it over your shoulders. you freeze, “you look cold, so this should keep you warm for now. you can give it back to me later once we get out of this mess, okay?”

you nod and wrap the coat around your frame, tucking yourself into it, “thank you… err” you trail off as you realize you don’t know his name.

"name’s jay. nice to meet you..?”

“oh, ah i am y/n,” you say with a slight bow, which jay returns, smiling gently at you.

you feel heat creeping on your cheeks as you look at him, feeling giddy for some reason. the awkward silence that follows next doesn't help either.

“um are you new here? i don’t think i’ve seen you before,” you break the silence by the most typical thing to say. honestly there’s a bazillion people working in this company that you are yet to meet but oh well.

jay blinks, seemingly taken aback by your question, he opens and closes his mouth a couple of times, and you’re a bit confused, “you don’t recognize me?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“uh… am i supposed to?” you question him, feeling slightly dumb for asking the obvious.

he laughs, which makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter, "no, actually you don’t. i am just visiting my father.”

you nod your head in understanding. you decide not to bother him anymore about his identity.

then, silence takes over once again. you both look to opposite sides, pretending to ignore the fact that you are in an elevator with no power.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you think of how to start up a conversation. luckily, jay is the one to do it.

he clears his throat before asking, "what do you do here?"

"i work as a graphic designer in the marketing department," you answer without skipping a beat.

"ah, so you're part of the creative team? that's nice," jay's eyes light up as he says that and you can't help but smile at him.

jay mostly asks questions about you and you don’t get to ask him anything back when the elevator doors suddenly open with a ping. the light blinds you and you realize some men, dressed like security guards, stand in the hallway. the relief that you were rescued washes over you.

the men quickly usher you out and the elevator door shuts behind you. you stand there, blinking in the fluorescent light and trying to get your bearings.

"oh hey, your coat,” you say, rushing to take it off and handing it to jay who’s currently dusting off his suit.

he smiles at you and you swear your heart skips a beat.

"well, it was nice meeting you y/n. hope we can meet again soon," he says with a charming grin and then he's gone, walking down the hallway.

so… you did fail on your promise not to get another “office” romance. damn! you don’t even know if he works here! so you guess it doesn’t count?

you shake your head, clearing it of all thoughts of jay and walk away, heading towards your office. before you can sit down at your desk you get yelled at by your supervisor for being late and you can’t even explain yourself when he keeps nagging at you.

later that day you get an email from, informing that the ceo’s son is visiting the company and he will be giving a speech in the annual meeting in two hours. god, and you planned to leave earlier…

the email is very vague so you assume it is to inform you and the other employees to be present.

“park jongseong?!” you hear one of your colleagues exclaim and you figure she must’ve just read the letter, “i’ve heard he’s really handsome,” she snickers to her friends and they all giggle. gossip about this park jongseong begins floating in your office and all you learn is that he’s really handsome and really smart.

you shake your head as you pack up your things. it doesn't take you long and soon you are making your way to the conference hall.

when you arrive there, you realize it's almost full, people sitting at the chairs, eagerly awaiting for the speech to begin. you sit down in the front row and take your seat.

when a woman wearing a badge that has the name ji-yoo on it, comes into the room, signaling that the speech will start soon, the conference hall quiets down.

and then the doors open once again and the light is blocked by the figure standing in the doorway. the light suddenly shines onto his face and he comes forward.

park jongseong.

park jongseong looks just like the men you've seen in magazines. and most importantly, looks exactly like the man you’ve been stuck in the elevator like five hours ago. your jaw drops.

now this isn’t any typical office romance anymore. this man is the ceo’s son and you didn’t even know!

park jongseong is standing in the middle of the hall and everyone is looking at him, awe evident in their eyes. he starts his speech, speaking about how grateful he is to the company, about how glad he is that the employees here work hard and about how much he respects and values everyone present here.

your eyes are fixated on him, he speaks in a smooth, calm voice, it is firm but still polite, and you can't help but admire how gorgeous he looks when he speaks. his eyes are big and round, making him look young but at the same time, also like a sophisticated business man.

the speech ends pretty fast and before you know it, the hall is emptying and you are just standing there, wondering how the hell did you not know. now you’re just praying you didn’t mess something up and this guy won’t fire you.

you feel someone tapping your shoulder and when you turn around, jay or jongseong, you don’t even know, is looking straight at you with a gentle smile.

"oh hello y/n. remember me?" he chuckles lightly.

your eyes widen and you curse under your breath. you blush a bright red, suddenly at a loss for words, "oh i- i am so sorry for not recognizing you earlier! i just uh, well i didn't know you are the ceo's son and you look very different from earlier and i didn't mean to sound mean, i mean if i even did, and—" you try to explain yourself but jay laughs and holds up a hand to stop your ramble.

“it’s okay, don’t worry, you did not sound mean at all," jay gives you a small smile and you breathe a sigh of relief, "how are you? are you feeling better from this morning? you were quite scared when we got stuck there, i noticed."

you nod, "i am fine, actually. just tired from all the work today. um, your speech was great by the way,” you say and then immediately hope to disappear. this man probably had more public speeches than you ever did in your life.

"thank you," jay says, a grin appearing on his face and he has this soft look in his eyes and oh my god, he is so handsome, "i am actually glad you could make it here, i wanted to ask you if you wanted to have a drink with me…?” he says, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

your heart skips a beat, "me? a- a drink? like with you?" you ask, wanting to slap yourself for sounding like such a dumbass.

jay chuckles, "yes you, i was hoping we could get to know each other more. you seemed pretty interesting in the elevator and we haven't even talked for long and it would be nice if we could," he says with a smile.

“um sure? i mean yes, i would like that,” you say, fidgeting with your hands nervously.

he smiles at you, "it's settled then. are you free to leave right now?”

you nod.

"great, follow me then,” jay gestures for you to walk outside and you do, feeling nervous as hell. you hope you don't look stupid but he seems so charming, how could anyone resist him.

jay leads you towards his car and sparks a small conversation to keep the awkwardness away.

you almost laugh to yourself. would you have ever believed if someone told you you’ll snatch yourself quite a catch? probably not but you’re excited to see where this goes.

[mamoonde]

modern au for cssr x wcz

where cssr is a touring pop indie artist and one night after a set where she performed brooklyn baby (lana del rey) in a bar/club, wcz the bartender serves her drink and asks, "is your boyfriend really cool?"

cssr blinks, gives him a (slow) once over, smiles.

"depends. are you?"

mama wei got soooooooo much game i just know it. she knew it, wielded it, killed (metaphorically) with it.

baba wei got game. didn't know it. didn't flaunt it. poured delicious cocktails w his sleeves rolled up his forearms and a genial smile and assumed everybody else got the same insane amount of tips every night.

cssr chatted wcz up, and wcz responded in kind without expectation. when a persistent guy wouldn't take the hint, less so the blunt 'no,' wcz deftly deals with him with a mere forbidding look and even (dangerous) tone.

cssr took him home that night.

wcz thought that was it. and was proven wrong.

cssr kept coming back, night after night, even when she didn't have to perform, reveling in doing the chasing for once.

wcz thought cssr who lived that kind of wild carefree lifestyle couldn't possibly 'settle' for a guy like him. and yet cssr is sooooooooooo gone for him.

some spurned loser: you know she's just playing with you, right? cssr will never be tied down, least of all by you

wcz: thank you for your concern, but i'm afraid you're not my type. and i would be a fool to even think about tying cangse down. she loves being a free spirit and i wouldn't change her for the world

cssr: marry me

🔞 later in wcz's apartment 🔞

wcz breaks off their kiss. "you could have any man... why me?"

"can't i just want you? don't you want me too?" cssr pouts playfully, tugging at his hair.

wcz gives in and kisses her again. "you can. i do. so much." he says between kisses.

and then they don't speak again until they're both undressed on wcz's bed, cssr straddling wcz with him deep inside her.

"those men only want to own me, control me--" cssr gasps. "make me a trophy to display at home. but you," she rolls her hips. "you're not like them. you wouldn't do that."

she revels in the way he looks at her, like he sees right through to her soul. not some work of art display or land to conquer; just her.

wcz lets her set the pace, then lifts her off him by the hips and just holds her there. "are you calling me weak?" he tugs her nipple with his teeth.

cssr squeaks then tugs at his head.

"nooo, you know what i mean!" she whines, kicking her feet when he keeps holding her still with just the tip of him inside her.

she retaliates by clenching her walls, rolling her hips and sucking at the sensitive spot behind his ear.

their little game continues until neither of them can keep any semblance of rhythm, devolving into a relentless chase to the end.

"you really won't tie me down, a-ze?" cssr pants against his lips.

"not unless you want me to." wcz says, still rubbing her clit, wet with their spend, until cssr shudders again.

~~ end of nsfw bit ~~~

they stay like that for a while, catching their breaths against sweaty skin. then cssr blows a raspberry into wcz's chest.

"should i be offended that you won't even try?" she says dryly.

"i will not do anything you don't want." wcz looks her in the eyes. cssr flushes with an eep! then looks down, tracing his clavicle.

"so if i say i want to keep traveling?"

wcz holds her wrist, pressing her palm to his heart. "then i will say, where to?"

"you'd come with me?"

"if you'd let me."

"what if i lose my voice?" cssr asks later as wcz washes her hair.

"then we'll take sign language classes and i'll work extra until you can find a new job."

"what if i get old and wrinkly and all my hair turns grey?" cssr asks while they're shopping for groceries.

"then people will finally believe me when i say i've been had by a cougar." wcz says while placing a jar of cssr's favorite peanut butter brand in the cart.

cssr squawks and smacks his arm with a bag of gummy bears.

"a-se, no one will believe your age with the way you act." wcz deadpans, then kisses her forehead. "if it bothers you, we can dye your hair to match mine, or mine to match yours."

"hmm, i do think you'd look cool with silver hair." cssr says, then challenges, "what if i want us to get pink hair?"

"then we'll both get pink hair dye."

.

.

.

"what if i'm no longer beautiful?" cssr asks as they settle in for bed. "will you still love me?"

"it's a good thing i don't love you for just your looks then," wcz says then kisses her pout away with a smile. "i will always love you no matter what you look like. my love is always beautiful."

cssr smiles and kisses him softly.

"good answer!" she chirps then turns on her back. "'cuz in four months, my belly will pop and my ankles will be swollen, and in eight months, i won't even be able to see them! but you still need to tell me i'm pretty, okay?"

"yes, yes, you're pretty," wcz mumbles half asleep... then blinks awake. "...wait. cangse?"

cssr hums. "good night, baby daddy."

then she conks out.

wcz blinks, and blinks again. he starts counting.

"what."

he counts again. fuck, they hadn't used any protection that first time, did they? neither did he use a condom that one time at the bar... or that other night... oh.

oh.

wcz doesn't sleep for a long time.

when morning comes, cssr wakes to wcz curled up against her waist, hand on her belly.

"silly changze, the baby's still just a pea!"

she smiles dopily. yep, this one's a keeper.

the end

eight months and twenty years later, wwx asks his parents about their love story to deflect from his own love woes, does the math, and realizes they conceived him the night they met:

[drabbles-mc]

Learned From The Best

Richie Jerimovich x Jess

Warnings: 18+, Season 2 Spoilers, language, fluff, me being obsessed with these two

Summary: Despite Jess's last words to Richie, "Don't be a stranger," it still ends up that somehow she is the one to cross over his path when she stops in at The Bear one night.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: I sat down and threw this all out onto the page in one sitting. I finished writing this at 1am and had to fight every urge to post it in that very moment. I love these two. I love Richie. I fully plan on writing more canon character x canon character fics for this show because no one can stop me lmaooo. Richie just. He deserves nice things.

The Bear Taglist: @withmyteeth @garbinge @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

Even though Richie was looking down at the tablet on the small hostess podium in front of him, he still heard the sound of the restaurant door opening. He could separate out that sound from the buzzing of the dining area. He was speaking before he even looked up, but he only got a few words out before his eyes lifted and he saw who had just come striding in.

“Good evening, and welcome to—” He stopped short, eyes widening as he tried not to trip and fumble over nothing. “Oh, shit,” he said softly, a smile breaking out across his face in place of the shock. “Chef Jess.”

She laughed quietly at that, just as much at his shot and slip-up of vulgarity as the fact that he still called her Chef Jess. She brought her hands in front of her, using both to hold onto the small clutch purse that she had with her.

“I think you can just call me Jess here, Chef,” she replied, a joking lilt to her tone.

He smiled, hands bracing against the podium in front of him. “Right. Right.” The two of them stared at each other for another couple of seconds before Richie remembered where he was and what he was doing. Clearing his throat, he jumped right back into the professional demeanor that Jess of all people had taught him so well. “How many tonight?”

Her smile widened just a touch. “Just me.”

Richie had been looking down at the seating arrangements, wanting to pick just the right place for her. But he hadn’t been expecting her to say that she was there alone. He figured that she was meeting up with a friend, or even multiple friends. There was the possibility that she was there for a date but he didn’t want to think about that, he also didn’t want to think about why he didn’t want to think about that.

Even with his chin still tilted down, his eyes flicked back up to hers. She tilted her head just slightly, like she was waiting for him to make some kind of comment, maybe even crack a joke since he usually seemed to have one up his sleeve for just about any occasion.

Instead, he looked back down and chose what he thought would be the perfect table for her before stepping out from behind the podium and motioning for her to walk with him. “Right this way then, Chef.”

She let out a chuckle and shook her head at the fact that he was still calling her that. It would be an odd transition, maybe one that neither of them would ever really get past for a long time. There was a brand of familiarity in it, though.

As the two of them walked towards Jess’s table, all Richie could do was try to keep looking over at her. She was dressed so differently than when she was working in the kitchen, which was understandable. Rather than the black and white suit, Jessica was dressed in a beautiful and extremely flattering black dress. Instead of a high-collared button-down and a tie, her dress came off each shoulder, the slightest bit of a V in the middle where the pendant of her necklace rested. Richie also noticed that the small red clutch in her hand matched the red heels she was wearing, the type of shoe that she would be far too smart to wear to her own restaurant because she wouldn’t be able to run around and stand in them for hours on end. Her hair was down in loose waves around her shoulder with the exception of two locks that she had pulled back and clipped behind her head.

“Here you are,” Richie said as he pulled out a chair for her to sit in at the small two-top table. A table positioned so that she could see most of what was going on in the restaurant, but she could also get the slightest bit of a peak back towards the kitchen too.

She nodded, smiling as she sat down. “Thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your drink.” He paused, lingering for a moment as he went back and forth before finally deciding to say what he’d been thinking since she walked into The Bear, what he’d been thinking since he staged and she told him to stay the fuck out of her way. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

Jess smiled, heat creeping up her neck and into her face as she looked up at Richie. “Thank you.” She made a point to look him over slowly, carefully. “I’m glad you’re still wearing suits.”

He laughed quietly as he nodded. “Me too.”

Richie strode quickly but calmly away from Jess’s table and back to the kitchen. He walked through the door, into the throws of controlled chaos that they’d all gotten so accustomed to. Waiting for the right moment, he got Sydney’s attention.

“Hey, Chef?” Richie spoke up.

Her eyes were on the expo in front of her but she was listening to every word he said. “Yes, Chef, how can I help you?”

“Just fired the first order for table twenty-two, but, um…” he started to trail off, not exactly sure what he wanted to say to Sydney, what he was even planning on asking of her.

She finally looked over at him. “Did something go wrong?”

“No, no, n-no,” he stammered for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his tie. “Just, just make sure it all hits, alright?”

Sydney’s brows pinched together as she tried to figure out what had Richie off-kilter the way he was. “Alright, yea, sure. I’ll make sure it hits.” She paused. “Can I ask who is at table twenty-two?”

He sighed. “If I’m being honest, Chef, I’d rather you didn’t.”

Sydney’s eyes widened as she smiled and laughed. “Who’s at table twenty-two?”

The two of them looked at each other for a moment before Syd turned around, switching from facing her team of chefs to facing the narrow stripe of glass that let her see out into the dining area. She stood up on her tip-toes for a moment as she scanned to see who it was that Richie was so concerned about.

When her eyes landed on Jess, she found herself standing there with more questions than answers. “Who is she?”

Richie shook his head slightly. “Someone I don’t want to fuck up in front of, alright? Is that a good enough answer?”

Sydney flashed him a slick grin, but nodded nonetheless. “We’ll take care of her, Richie. Don’t worry about it.”

He let out a short sigh of relief as he gave her a nod, not that he was really all that worried about them not taking care of Jess. “Thank you, Chef.”

Sydney was smiling to herself as she returned her attention to the expo in front of her. “You’re welcome, Chef.”

Richie was fighting every impulse he had to linger around Jessica’s table, to constantly be checking in on her. He didn’t want to be breathing down her neck, plus there was an entire dining room of other people that he also had to take care of. Most of the time, Richie didn’t mind sharing tables with Sweeps and Fak—what they were all doing these days was a team effort after all. But he made sure that he was the only one checking in with Jess. It made it easier that she’d come in a little closer to the tail-end of the big dinner rush. Things were a little quieter.

“How is everything?” he had to force himself not to bookend the question with Chef. This time he was successful unlike some of the other times he’d stopped to ask her some version of that same question.

She nodded approvingly. “Everything has been really great, Richie.”

He beamed at her. “Good, good. I’m, I’m glad to hear it.” He paused for a beat, an almost shy grin on his face as he said, “I wish I knew you were coming in tonight—would’ve rolled out, you know, the whole fuckin’ red carpet and everything for you.”

She shook her head at him. “Richie—”

“I know, I know,” he held his hands up in surrender, “Language.”

She laughed. “What I was actually going to say, was that even without a red carpet, this has all been phenomenal.”

“You’re not just sayin’ that to make me feel better?”

She arched one eyebrow. “Do you think that I would?”

He laughed, nodding in concession to her point. “That’s true.” He paused, clearing his throat, eyes dropping to look at his shoes for a moment as he tried to gather up a bit of courage. “There’s one more course. But if you have the time, and if you wouldn’t mind, there’s something else I’d love for you to try afterwards, too.”

She perked up at the statement, a smile on her face. “Got something up your sleeve, Richie?”

The smile on his face was soft. “Always. Learned from the best.” There was a comfortable beat of quiet between them before he said, “I’ll go check on your last course.”

By the time that she was done with that, Jess noticed that most people in the restaurant had cleared out. Ordinarily, she’d feel bad, or even awkward, about being one of the last people out. Not this time, though. She was more than content to sit and wait to see what Richie was going to be bringing out, what he had up his sleeve.

Richie was standing just inside the kitchen, looking at Jessica through the pane of glass. He was so caught up in staring at her that he didn’t even hear Sydney walking up behind him. “Just gonna stare at her until we close, or…?”

He flinched at the sound of her voice. “Fuck me, Chef. Don’t, don’t do that.”

Sydney laughed, rolling her eyes. “Stop stalling. Go, you know, go profess your undying love for her.” Both of them laughed and Sydney amended her statement. “Or at least go tell her that you were happy to see her.”

Richie took a deep breath and nodded, knowing that he could only stand with his face practically pressed up against the glass for so long. Turning to Syd, he asked, “You got the thing?”

Sydney’s smile was genuine as she nodded. She grabbed the small covered tray off the edge of the counter and handed it to him. “I got the thing.”

Richie took a deep breath before allowing Sydney to pass the tray off to him. “Thank you, Chef.”

“You’re welcome.” She gestured to the door. “Now go, please.”

Before he could talk himself out of it, Richie walked through the kitchen door and back out into the dining area. He tried to pretend he was more confident than he felt as he made his way back over to Jessica’s table. She was sitting there, looking around and seeming as content as the moment that she had walked in. Richie tried to take comfort in that.

“Thank you for your patience, Chef Jess.”

She smiled at him. “I figured whatever it is would be worth the wait.”

He set the tray down in the middle of her table. He watched as she looked at the tray and then back up to him. Once they locked eyes, he motioned to the chair across from her. “Mind if I…?”

She tried not to let her smile grow cartoonishly wide. Gesturing to the seat, she said, “By all means.”

Richie undid the button on his suit jacket as he sat down across the table from Jess. Taking a deep breath, he looked her in the eyes. “Now, I didn’t have time to do a deep-dive on you before you got here,” he said it light enough for both of them to laugh even though they both knew that there was nothing but truth in his words, “but I think you’ll still really like this.” He reached to remove the cover from the tray. “I asked Chef Sydney if she could pull together something special for you, and of course she said yes.”

Jessica chuckled softly. “Because no one can say no to you?”

He shot her a look that was as joking as it was kind. “You know that’s not true.”

She laughed a little harder at that. “I know.” She watched as Richie finally lifted the top from the tray. Her eyes were wide as she looked down at the plate in front of her. “Wow.”

Richie had had a lot of proud moments in the last few months that had gone by. From staging with Jess and Garrett and the rest of their team, to hustling through the chaos of Friends & Family at The Bear, to all of the other times since then that he and Natalie had kept things afloat and running as smoothly as they could hope, there were a lot of moments that he could smile about when he thought back on them. He’d done more in the last few months than he ever thought that he was capable of. But seeing the look on Jess’s face in that moment, and knowing that she was a large part of the reason that he knew that he was capable of doing everything else, there was a completely different sense of pride in that.

“You said,” he spoke like he was choosing each word with such care, “that you can do what you do because you get to make someone’s night every night.” He gestured to the dessert between them. “But I think it’s only fair that every now and then someone makes your night.”

Jess dragged her teeth lightly against her bottom lip for a moment, not having expected any of this. She hadn’t expected to walk into The Bear and be greeted by Richie in the first place, so everything after that was just as surprising. She had no doubt that when he left he would be doing well somewhere, she just didn’t think that she’d get to experience it first-hand.

“My night was made the second I got here,” she told him honestly, trying not to think about the heat rising in her face as she said it. “But, that being said,” she picked up her fork, “this looks amazing and I won’t say no to it.”

Richie laughed, unable to think of the last time he’d smiled as widely as he was at that moment. “Enjoy.”

She paused with her fork halfway to the dish. “You’re having some too?”

His eyes crinkled at the edges as he grinned. “I didn’t wanna be presumptuous, but since you asked…” he trailed off as he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a fork of his own, earning another laugh from the beautiful woman sitting across from him.

The two of them were quiet for a couple minutes as they ate. Richie admitted that he had no idea what Sydney was going to pull together for her when he asked for something special, which had them both laughing for a moment before they started listing off all the things that they could taste in the dish. It was like the next level of the game they’d played after hours at Jessica’s restaurant. The stakes felt different this time.

Richie wanted to tell her about everything that he’d done since he’d finished staging and came back to The Bear. He wanted to tell her how every night he was just trying to be as much like her as he could manage, keeping things running as smoothly as possible. He wanted to tell her about the chaos of opening night, how he and Sydney managed to flip things on a dime and make it work. There were so many things that he wanted to talk to her about, but he didn’t. It wasn’t the time. Hopefully one day it would be the right time for all that, but it wasn’t yet.

“I’m—”

“You know—”

They both started talking at the same time, both stopped talking at the same time. They each laughed, shaking their heads. They’d gotten so good at not tripping over themselves, over other people by the nature of their work. Not this time.

Richie gestured for her to talk. “Ladies first.”

Jess gave a tiny roll of her eyes but she was still smiling. “I was just going to say, I’m glad that I got to see you here. I’m…I’m glad I got to experience you like this.”

Richie felt like he had to sit with that for a minute, revel in the meaning and the weight of it. He tried to sound less emotional than he felt. “I’m glad I got to see you here too.” He paused, looking down at his hands for a moment before looking at her again. “You know, I don’t…I don’t know if I would’ve been able to do all of this if it wasn’t for you, if it wasn’t for everyone—”

“Richie,” she cut him off, firm but gentle, “this,” she gestured to all of him, “is all you.”

His shoulders rose and fell in a small shrug, a tiny smile quirking the end of his mouth. “Maybe. But you, you made me better. So, you know, thank you for that.”

Part of her felt like it wasn’t the type of thing she should really be saying you’re welcome for, but another part of her knew that Richie would feel better if she said it. So she did. “You’re welcome.”

Relief went through him at that. He let another second pass before standing up, redoing the button of his jacket as he did. Reaching, he deftly lifted the tray and forks off the table. “I’ll get this out of your way.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

He was about to turn and walk back towards the kitchen when he saw Jess reaching for her purse. “Oh,” he spoke up, leaning in a little closer almost like he was telling her a secret, “no check tonight.”

“Richie.”

“Jess,” he easily mimicked her tone back to her.

She huffed out a quiet laugh, knowing that she wasn’t going to win the battle. She was on Richie’s turf now. Taking a deep breath, she simply nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Once he’d cleared the table they were sitting at, Richie walked alongside Jessica back to the front door. This time she was the one who was looking over at him. “You escort everyone out?”

He laughed, face warming at the question. “It’s no red carpet, but you know, least I could do.”

Jess stopped at the door, standing with her back to it as she faced Richie. “Thank you again for everything.”

He shook his head, waving it off like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t, really. It mattered, because it was Richie and because it was her, but it wasn’t a burden. In his mind, all of this had been the least that he could do for her.

“Next time let me know ahead of time and I’ll send a car.”

“Or you could come pick me up,” she offered for him.

His eyes widened at that, a cheesy grin on his face as he nodded. “That could work too.”

Stepping in, she pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek, leaving behind the faintest hint of lipstick. “Goodnight, Richie.”

He almost couldn’t force the words out past his surprise at the gesture. “Yea, g-goodnight.”

Richie watched as she turned and walked out the door. The smile on his face grew wider when he saw the way she cast him an extra glance over her shoulder. There was a smile on her face too as she finally started walking down the sidewalk.

Richie let out a sigh, a deep breath he’d forgotten that he was holding in. Finally, he turned back around so that he was facing the expanse of the restaurant. He was about to take a step towards the kitchen when he saw both Carmy and Syd lurking in the doorway.

“Jesus, fuck,” Richie said with a shake of his head. “You two just standing there fuckin—”

“Did you get her number?” Syd asked, cutting him off.

“What?” Richie had never looked more confused in his life.

“Her phone number, cousin, did you get her phone number?” Carmy interjected, more amused by it all than he had any right to be.

“Oh, shit,” Richie’s eyes went wide, “do, do you think I should…?” he trailed off as he pointed his thumb back over his shoulder.

“Yes!” both Carmy and Syd answered in unison.

Richie was already turning on his heel to take off out the door. “Right, right.” He pushed the glass door open with ease before going and trying to play catch-up. “Yo, Chef, wait up! I got a question!”

[yakuzacanons]

Your writing is so good and very very chewable!!

If it's okie, could I request some Yoshitaka fluff? Maybe he's got a playful artist who enjoys play wrestling with him

Ahhh the first request for our sweet Mine! Also, thank you, I really appreciate your kind words. All the tasty content below da cut as always hehe.

Out of all the boys, Mine seems like the type of guy to end up with a significant other who is just the total opposite of him. Mine's very independent, to a fault sometimes, and he's very logical. It's actually shocking to so many people that his romantic partner is someone more invested in creativity and is generally more positive and fun.

If you think about it though, it actually makes a lot of sense. Mine is a big art lover and admires a lot of creative people, probably because he doesn't have a knack for making art himself. That's probably how the two of you met, maybe at an art gallery and you both struck up a conversation about the work there which eventually evolved into something more.

Truthfully, you both bring a balance into each other's lives that neither of you knew you needed. One of the things Mine loves most about you is that you bring out a side of him that he didn't know existed. He's also down to totally financially support any of your artistic endeavors so you can focus on your artwork fulltime.

He loves admiring any creative project you work on. It's not uncommon for him to come home from a long day to find you so lost in thought on a project that you didn't even hear him come in. He'll bend down to give you a kiss on the cheek, taking off his suit jacket and loosening his tie as he asks what you're working on.

He is the best person to ask for constructive criticism. His logical personality makes him truthful but not harsh and his appreciation for art makes him a great person to bounce ideas off of. Secretly, he's super honored that you'd ask what he thinks about your work, as he's the kind of boyfriend to think that everything you do is pretty amazing.

If you ever gift him a piece of artwork, he will actually cry a little. Something so heartfelt from the person he cares about the most means the world to him. He genuinely feels so lucky to have you.

Mine can be prone to bouts of pessimism. Call it stress from his work or just general depression from thoughts of his rough childhood, he can get down sometimes. You always find a way to cheer him up though.

He'll come home from work one day, particularly drained from an especially stressful and long day. Instead of his usual greeting, he'll just kick off his shoes haphazardly and flop onto the bed with a groan. You immediately take notice and walk over to the bed to check in on him.

When you ask how his day is, he just grumbles something into his pillow in reply. You'll try to gently nudge him out of his tired stupor by asking if he ate yet, only to get another mumbled and jumbled reply from him, still face down in the bed.

You realize trying to talk to him is futile so you do what you do best: cheer him up. Before he know it, he's getting play tackled in bed. Mine is actually a bit ticklish, though he'd never tell anyone, but you figured that out quite a bit ago and you use it to shock him out of his facepalm onto the bed.

He'll sit up, immediately letting out a yelp before giggling uncontrollably while saying something like "Wait dear, no stop that, ah don't do that!" still laughing all the way. You'll tease him, saying "Ah, I gotcha!" the both of you smiling. Eventually, he'll get you back by play wrestling you, evolving into a pillow fight before you both tap out, exhausted but happy.

He'll pant tiredly as he puts the pillows back in place as you get up off the bed. Suddenly, he'll grasp your hand. When you turn to him, he'll surprise you with a kiss before quietly saying "Thank you. I really needed that."

[hmshermitcraft]

Helspulse mountain town anon back to tie yet another thing to that first post.

An immortal can make a mortal immortal if they fall in love with the mortal. There's one small problem. In order for the former mortal to lose their new immortality, the immortal has to fall out of love with them. Obviously, this has led to a lot of situations where the mortal falls out of love but is unable to move on cause the immortal hasn't.

Or in Impulse's case, the mortal was using him to get to someone else.

Around 500 years ago, Impy met Bdubs and was smitten. Bdubs didn't really care about the imp until he saw he was friends with Etho, Bdubs's crush. What he didn't know was Etho was with Impulse's brother and fellow immortal Skizz.

So Bdubs spent a few years buttering up the imp while trying to get to Etho. He even had a ring made.

Impulse found the ring, and was so overjoyed he decided right then and there to make Bdubs immortal. Days later, while Impy was doing chores around the house, he was skipping and just waiting for Bdubs to give him the ring. Instead, Bdubs threw him out of the house saying he has to make room for his actual lover, and called Impy a gullible little fool for thinking that ring was for him.

Impulse ran away and was never seen for 500 years.

At first, Bdubs didn't care. All he cared about was proposing to Etho. Etho rejected him and said he wanted to just be friends. And he took immortality from Skizz. Bdubs spent the next 500 years watching them be the most sickeningly sweet thing to ever exist, Skizz absolutely showering Etho in attention, and Etho giving Skizz a shoulder to cry on every time the pain of not finding his little brother got too great to bear alone.

For 500 years Bdubs thought Impulse did that on purpose to get back at him for breaking his heart. For 500 years Bdubs thought about killing the imp to make himself mortal again so he wouldn't have to deal with this.

Meanwhile, Impulse was trying his damndest to fall out of love with Bdubs. In the first 100 years, he considered going back to Hels and letting the knight unload on him about the irony of Impulse crawling back to the man he rejected after being rejected himself. In the first 100 years, he would have also taken Bdubs up on his plan to kill him(neither Impy nor Skizz knew if they were the type of immortal to shrug off murder attempts or not.) Now he's just trying to let time pull that love out of his heart.

related asks: 1 & 2

Impulse has hated his big heart ever since. He's kept it hidden away, too afraid of falling in love again. He messed up with Hels, he messed up with Bdubs. Clearly, he can't judge character.

Skizz was always so much better at that than him. He always tried to see the good in people, but he wasn't blind to the bad, either. Not like Impulse is. He hopes Etho and Skizz are happy. And, stupidly, he wishes Bdubs found happiness too. Because despite it all, he still loves the damn guy.

He knows Skizz must be worried about him. After running away for so long, he's too scared to face Skizz's love again. He hurt his brother. He doesn't deserve that forgiveness, not when Bdubs still has a place in his heart.

So when he hears of a small town, far into the mountains... It sounds perfect. Somewhere he can settle down. Where he can stop worrying about everything. It might be what he finally needs to get over Bdubs.

[littybittys]

On one hand (spitballing Caterina’s thoughts on my female Crow Rook):

- Caterina was less than pleased to see Lucanis turn to Rook for advice at the Ilario decision. Her prize grandson…asking someone else for advice…and that someone being the person she sent to rescue him…but Rook is now his potential lover…and he’s going to disappear off with her again where they’ll have the opportunity to continue growing closer…and he clearly values Rook’s input and is looking at her like that? Concerning at the very least.

- This Rook is also the upstart Crow who caused that massive headache with the Antaam not too long ago, displaying a clear disregard for authority, and is from a lesser house. Not just a lesser house but the house of one of the kings royal bastards…is Viago trying to make a move? Did he tell Rook to get close to Lucanis on purpose? Is Viago trying to “reach above his station”? He’s never given any sign of this before but maybe he was waiting for the perfect time. Lucanis should be warned…

- OR did Rook come up with this on her own? Is she trying to restore her standing in the Crows using Caterina’s favorite as a shield and a leg up? Lucanis should be warned of this possibility as well…

- Caterina has never know this grandson to be with someone before. That was always Ilario’s business. Lucanis has always been so dedicated to the job, so serious, nothing less than perfection…and if Caterina did picture Lucanis with someone, it was always someone she had picked for him, someone to help carry on House Dellamorte’s bloodline. Love had nothing to do with it. So what about this Rook has Lucanis so under her spell? (Because let’s be real, Caterina would never be the *claps hands* they’re in love! type. Dragon Age Mafia Boss Abuela Madrigal is staring down the barrel of a Rook shaped gun and she isn’t liking what she’s seeing so far).

- distrust, suspicion, something something Rook could be hard to control, something something Caterina is possessive of Lucanis and probably a MIL (or GIL) from hell, etc, etc

On the OTHER hand:

- Rook has become a very valuable piece in a short amount of time. Not only has she been out trying to save the world but she’s also been helping to successfully spearhead the resistance against the Antaam in Treviso and has been the “boots on the ground”. This hasn’t gone unnoticed, especially among the other Talons, even the ones who were previously calling for her head. And now after Ilario’s grand fuck up, Rook has also shown that she has the new First Talon’s ear (and possibly his heart). Some of the other Talons are going to jump on this for their own gain, offer their own alliances to House de Riva, and Caterina will be damned if she lets House Dellamorte be slow on the uptake.

- Caterina hasn’t gotten this far by being unobservant. She sees the way Lucanis looks at Rook and how Rook looks at Lucanis. Whenever power is exchanged there is always room for insurrection, especially among the Crows. Lucanis is going to be facing all that it means to be First Talon - it wouldn’t hurt to have someone fierce and loyal at his back. Someone to make others think twice about striking. A fellow God Killer (who, by extension, brings Houses de Riva and Cantori with her. 3 Houses united versus 1 standing alone isn’t a raw deal…)

- Neither Lucanis or Ilario have any children at this point (at least, Caterina hasn’t seen the fruits of Ilario’s affairs come to light yet but even if they did they would still be illegitimate and there’s always the possibility they’d challenge Lucanis or create trouble for House Dellamorte in general). That means once Lucanis and Ilario are dead and gone, the bloodline is also gone. Rook could offer a solution there and further tie her to House Dellamorte if questions of loyalty ever arose between her old House and new. The Dellamorte bloodline could live on…

- Lucanis is, for better or worse, an abomination. Caterina is ignoring this unwanted piece of information the best she can but the cat is out of the bag now. She may not know the full extent of this…condition, but she does know it will be bad news for Lucanis to seem out of control or compromised in any way. Rook seems familiar with her grandson’s…condition. Rook could help shelter him from prying eyes. Rook can be useful for keeping Lucanis alive and protected. Rook would keep his secrets…

I’ve run out of spitballing but yeah, I don’t think Caterina would ever like Rook in general. Tolerate? Yes. Enough to hold her tongue about Rook around Lucanis because not being dumb she sees how deeply he cares for Rook? Perhaps. But like Rook the way she apparently likes Teia? Ehhhhhhh no.

But I do think she would see the usefulness Rook has and she’d be smart enough to know that usefulness is better in the hands of House Dellamorte than another House. (Also cue surprised Pikachu face if she does try to dissuade Lucanis from Rook and Lucanis, for the first time ever with Caterina, puts his foot down and in no uncertain terms tells her Rook is staying. Oh boy).

Hey, I get why some people want Lucanis and Rook to have an easy time after the game's events, however Lucanis' life is, fundamentally, a telenovela.

Anyway what I'm trying to say is: tag all the reasons Caterina Dellamorte doesn't like your Rook and would disapprove of their relationship.