#tried a new style of coloring and it's equally as hard as all the other ones because i never fucking learned color theory

[astaroth1357]

Demons in the Dark 

What if they have glow-in-the-dark eyes?

Contents: No warnings aside vague mentions of imminent danger. And bugs and snakes.

~♡♡♡~

Lucifer

Seeing Lucifer in a dark room is incredibly unsettling. You know those horror movies where the protagonist sees a pair of demonic eyes from shadows? You've found the inspiration.

His eyes burn with the color and intensity of molten glass and they that just loom ominously in the darkness, usually well above people's heads!

Lucifer knows exactly how haunting his eyes can look, which is why he prefers to sneak up on Mammon when it's dark and he's up to no good… 

The mental image of Lucifer's crimson eyes have long since burned their way into the secondborn's nightmares...

He tries his best not to scare MC with them, but it's undeniably unnerving to see disks of pure hellfire roaming around the kitchen looking for a glass of water…

Mammon

His eyes glow just the prettiest shade of gold you'll ever see. Think of a mound of ancient coins glinting away under a treasure hunter's torchlight.

Mammon knows full well how attention grabbing his eyes are, which is part of why he always wears sunglasses when out stealing. People can't see'em glow if they're all tinted up behind his frames!!

He's also pretty proud that his eyes don't give people nightmares like Lucifer's, but since they glow like little sundrops when he's out, moths fly into his face… a lot…

He is far too embarrassed to admit to MC that he also wears his sunglasses outside for bug protection, so he makes up some shit about it being part of "Devildom-style" they just wouldn't understand.

Sometimes, the MC swears that if they look close, his pupils look like Grimm signs. But has to be a trick of the light… Right?

Leviathan 

Levi's eyes glow a citrine orange but weirdly, his pupils actually slit instead of dilate in the dark.

Though he will never admit it, but he actually has pretty bad night vision in his normal form. (Which isn't that surprising given all of screens he stares at.)

It's a little comical watching Levi stumble around in the dark if he needs to go grab something. The MC can just follow his eyes as he smacks into a lot of walls…

His demon form can kind of make up for it, but only so much. If things get too dark, Levi can change into it so he can see his surroundings with the help of UV light.

"Snake Vision" makes the dark more manageable, but it's not very good for gaming at all so he rarely thinks to use it. Everybody knows that past a certain brightness in the room, don't expect Levi to be of much help.

Satan

Magically enchanted his eyes to look exactly like a green-eyed cat's in the dark. I'm dead serious.

Imagine just going about your business then two grown man-sized feline eyes pop out from behind a corner. They even have nocturnal eyeshine so feels like you're being hunted!

Sometimes he can't help himself and he'll sneak up on people with his eyes closed so he can open them over their shoulders or peeking around corners.

He has given the whole House about as many heart attacks as Lucifer has pulling those shenanigans, I swear…

Belphie is the only one generally unaffected and he always gets a big laugh from when Satan scares the others. The youngest boys just be like that, unfortunately...

Asmodeus 

His eyes look like a kaleidoscope in low light. Every slight tilt of his head makes them reflect a whole new wave of fractals and colors.

Asmo is just as aware as Mammon that his eyes are gorgeous, but unlike Mammon he wouldn't DARE cover them up!! Sunglasses are for sunny days, which they don't ever get down in Hell.

Asmo's eyes are integral to his charm spells, so he takes extra care to be sure that they are as healthy and bright as they can be! He won't even accept eyebags.

Seeing Asmo's eyes in the dark kind of like seeing a trippy optical illusion just... staring at you. It's less unnerving than the others but it's equally hard to ignore.

To this day, he brags that it was his eyes that caught Solomon's attention when they first met. (Solomon actually wanted to pluck them out to use as potion ingredients, but he'll let that stay a secret.)

Beelzebub

Beel's eyes are probably the most normal of all of the family unless you look at them suuuper closely.

In his normal form, his eyes will just glow a nice shade of purple with nothing fancy happening. But in his demon form, they get that glassy, compounded film akin to insects with his iris still trapped and moving around under the surface.

Thankfully, they do not bulge out of his skull. They even give him the ability to see and track objects in fast motion, which does wonders for his reaction time.

... Somewhat unfortunately, though, his line of sight is more narrow than an inscets so it can look like he's trying to look everywhere all at once to compensate. His eyes will constantly dart around the room as if he is trying to follow the flight pattern of a coked out fly.

At least he mostly only uses this during fights or sporting events where they really come in handy. Honestly, if there's anything more jarring than red eyes, it's stumbling across bug-eyes that they can practically see right through you.

Belphegor 

Belphie's eyes glow purple, but they don't shine nearly as brightly as his brothers'. In fact, they have a steady, calming pulse when stared at which is very unnerving.

Total darkness is really when Belphie gives off his best "sleep paralysis demon" vibes. His eyes are really relaxing to look at, but only in the same way that the little light on an angler fish would be enticing to its prey. It's a trap, don't fall for it.

Belphie CAN put people to sleep this way, but he hates doing it because it means he has to somehow not blink for ages. He really has to be motivated to want to see someone zonked out.

For a couple centuries, Mammon would send Belphie to talk to Lucifer if he was working too late in order to (compassionately) knock their brother out so he could get some rest.

Lucifer's since gotten wise to this trick, but sometimes if he's really been going too long he will forget until he wakes up on the nearest couch post Belphie "convincing" him to take a nap.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #shall-we-date-obey-me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me headcanons #tw: bugs #tw: snakes

[rorilisa]

His Color

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader (no y/n used)

Summary: After a conversation with a certain god of mischief leads to a bold claim that he owns the color green, the reader puts it to the test with her very own green dress. And when he finally sees her in said dress… months of flirtatious comments and sexual tension may finally reach a breaking point. (This was inspired loosely by the song “Green Green Dress” from tick, tick boom, specifically the bonus track version because it is *chefs kiss*)

Warnings and such: swearing, potential future smut, sexual tension, sexual themes, potentially some slight angst, this is one of those “everyone’s alive and living together” AU’s, other characters have cameos, i tried to keep the readers description vague so she’d fit everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

Word Count: 3k

Mornings at the Avengers compound tended to be slow and quiet, the normally hyperactive heroes catching up on as much greatly deserved sleep as they possibly could. On a normal morning, only a handful of the team could even be found out of bed before 7 o’clock, but for some reason a certain hero in training sits with her coffee at the bar top of an empty kitchen. She sips silently, sitting with only the rising sun as her light as she attempts to wake her fuzzy mind. She doesn’t expect anyone to stumble into the kitchen at this hour, which is why when a hand lands gently on her shoulder, a startled yelp leaves her lips. She whips around quickly, coffee forgotten on the counter as she readies herself to fight this unknown enemy in the early morning light. Instead of a dangerous enemy, she meets the green eyes of the equally dangerous god of mischief. 

“Shit Loki, you scared me half to death.” She sighs out tiredly, turning back to her coffee as the raven haired male makes his way around the bar to get his own coffee, a proud smirk on his lips. 

“Yes, I see that.” He chuckles and turns to face her, leaning back against the kitchen counter next to the coffee maker as he waits for his cup to brew. “And what exactly are you doing up at this hour?” 

“I could ask you the same question.” She quips back, a tired smirk making its way onto her face as well. The way they fall into easy banter so quickly used to startle her, but after so many months of it, it's almost become a routine between the two of them. Loki hums and picks up his mug without turning his attention away from her. 

“You could, but I asked you first.” She rolls her eyes and huffs in fake annoyance at his childish response.

“Couldn’t sleep anymore. I have a lot on my mind.” She responds simply before bringing the mug back to her lips. Loki nods in understanding, and she has to fight a loving smile when he doesn’t push her to explain. That’s one of the many things she’s grown to like (love?) about Loki; he doesn’t pry about personal matters. He knows that she would share if she wanted to.

“Are you looking forward to Stark’s little gathering tomorrow?” He redirects the conversation easily as he walks back around the bar and takes the stool beside her. She fights the urge to groan and instead settles for another sigh.

“I forgot about that… I don’t have anything to wear.” She complains and lowers her head to rest it on the cool bar top. Loki chuckles and shakes his head in response to her dramatics. 

“Nothing? I find that hard to believe.” 

She huffs and raises her head. “This isn’t just any gathering, Loki. This is Stark's annual charity banquet. Practically all of New York is going to be there. So yes, I have nothing to wear.” She nearly cries when she realizes she’ll have to go shopping, her early morning brain incapable of imagining the stressful scenario that is dress shopping in busy New York City. The young hero goes silent as she thinks about what kind of styles or colors she might want, but she quickly loses her train of thought when she sees Loki watching her. There’s an unreadable but strong emotion in his emerald eyes, and it almost sends a shiver down her spine. 

“What?” She asks self consciously, and the god only shakes his head with a small smile.

“Nothing. What are you thinking about?” His quick redirection causes her to narrow her eyes, but she goes along with the new flow of conversation.

“What I’m going to buy for this stupid thing.” Her normal style wouldn’t work for such a high end gathering, and seeing as this would be her first year attending, she didn’t even know where to begin finding an outfit. “I’d normally wear something safe like a black dress, or maybe something red if I was feeling bold, but that feels so… basic. Like easy options. And this thing is basically Stark’s version of the Met Gala so I can’t go with the basics.”

Loki nods along as the girl beside him rants, before ultimately shrugging his shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Once you find your perfect color-” he gestures down at his emerald green sweater, “-you’ll find it’s much easier picking outfits.” He chuckles softly, and she narrows her eyes at him.

“Well maybe I’ll wear green.” She states, crossing her arms over her chest in a playful defiance. “You don’t own the color, you know?”

Loki scoffs and places a hand over his own chest, almost as if in indignation at her statement. “Darling, when you look as good in it as I do, you do in fact own it.” His signature smirk takes up residence on his face again, and she tries not to pay too much attention to the way her cheeks heat up at the pet name. 

“Oh please. You’ll see.” She smiles confidently and raises her chin. “We’ll find out who green really belongs to tomorrow night.” His eyes narrow at her this time as he weighs the unspoken challenge in his mind.

“Yes, I suppose we will.” He stands from his stool and lowers his head in a quick bow. “Until then.” He lifts his head and meets her eyes with a mischievous grin before turning smoothly and gliding away. She has to fan her face to calm the rising heat on her cheeks and neck, but she smiles down at her coffee with renewed vigor. With a point to prove and a god to awe, she thought that perhaps this shopping trip wouldn’t be as dreadful as she feared.

**********************

The night of Stark’s charity banquet approached rather quickly, and as Loki stood in front of his mirror making sure all the pieces of his suit were in place, he couldn’t help but think about the early morning chat he’d had with the young trainee. He felt excitement rush through him at the thought of her, and he quickly replaced the dopey smile on his face with a confident smirk. 

“None of that.” He told himself, as if his feelings were ever something that tended to listen to him. After fixing up the final touches of his suit and incredibly flattering corset vest, he brushes back his hair with a smug smirk before making his way out of his room and to the elevator that’s already filled with finely dressed Avengers. His eyes quickly scan the group of people for the girl that has taken over his thoughts, but instead he only finds various residents of the compound, some of which shift further away when he enters the small space. Loki lets out an exasperated sigh and leans against the far wall of the elevator, where he also sees a familiar super-soldier assassin. “Good evening Sergeant Barnes.”

The man looks up at Loki at the call of his name and greets him with a tired smile. “Good evening,” Bucky responds in his deep rumbly voice, fidgeting absentmindedly with the end of his left sleeve and the leather glove covering his metal hand. “Surprised to see you’re going to this thing.”

Loki chuckles and nods. “I wasn’t sure I was going to,” is his simple reply.

“Well, what changed?”

The god tilts his head as he thinks of an answer, the only one he seemingly can conjure up consisting of someone’s bright flirtatious smile, beautiful eyes, and the promise of seeing her in his color. 

“Thought it might be good for my image. To be seen around, socializing, being a generally good samaritan.” Although his answer was somewhat truthful, it was not the real reason he was going, nor was it something he really cared about all that much. “What about you? I did not imagine I’d be seeing you at any social gathering this large either.”

The ex-assassin nods and clears his throat, his blue eyes filled with sincerity when they meet Loki’s green ones. “Same reason as you, I guess…” 

Loki nods in understanding, feeling sympathy for the broken man standing beside him. “Well, I wish you a successful evening.” He responds as the elevator doors slide open and he begins to make his way out into the beautifully decorated ballroom. He nearly rolls his eyes, because of course Stark built a ballroom in this compound. 

“Yeah, you too.” Bucky claps the god on the shoulder before offering him a tight smile and making his way over to the large bar in the corner of the massive room. 

Loki begins scanning the expansive space, telling himself he’s only taking in the white and gold decorations and the balcony that’s already beginning to fill with people, but he knows that he’s really looking for her. He begins to walk along the edge of the dance floor where more tables are situated for guests, taking in the band that’s setting up on the stage at the end of the empty floor and the steadily growing noise of the guests chattering away. A buzzing headache begins to form in his temples, and Loki suppresses a groan. He wishes she’d just show up already to ease the pain like she always does, and a startled huff leaves his lips.

“I need a drink.” He mumbles to himself before making his way to the bar and leaning against the counter. “Red wine.” Midgardian alcohol did not affect him in the slightest, but he had found he quite liked the taste of it after a late night draining a bottle with her on the roof of the compound. Ever since then, he had imagined what her lips would have tasted like with the wine lingering on them.

“Here you are sir.” The bartender hands him the glass, startling him out of his rapidly spiraling train of thought. Loki shakes his head as if to clear the thought away and takes a large sip of his drink, his eyes beginning to once again search for her. 

Several glasses and many awkward attempts at conversation later, and Loki feels himself becoming increasingly more frustrated at her lack of attendance. He thinks that maybe she could not find a suitable outfit for the challenge and decided to just bail, but that thought causes a sting in his heart. No, he thinks. She wouldn’t abandon me like that. 

The band begins to play a slow, sultry waltz and Loki turns to the bartender to order his sixth glass of wine. It is at this moment, with his back turned to the entrance that he hears a call of her name accompanied with a loud whistle from Sam Wilson. 

“My lady! You look absolutely stunning!” Thor’s loud voice echoes through the ballroom, and every guest snaps their head in the direction of the noise. Unlike the hoards of people in the room, Loki takes his time turning his head to her, almost as if he’s preparing himself for the sight that awaits him. And when his eyes finally lock on her figure, he knows that no amount of time could have prepared him. 

She walks into the ballroom gracefully, the silky emerald dress clinging to her body in the most flattering way, her curves being perfectly hugged by the soft fabric. A long slit in the skirt starting at the floor and ending at her upper thigh leaves little to the imagination and perfectly accentuates her leg. The emerald color of the dress matches his own signature green to perfection, and he has to focus on keeping the heat in his cheeks and the spark of pride that goes straight from his heart down to his groin at bay. 

“Oh Norns…” Loki breathes out quietly. Her eyes search the crowd for him, and once she finds him a large, proud smirk falls upon her colored lips, lips that are the same color as the wine he so desperately wants to taste on them. She begins gliding towards him like some kind of seductive goddess, and despite his best efforts, he can’t seem to wipe the look of awe off of his face. 

“Hello Loki.” Even her voice seems to draw him in, and she continues approaching until they’re standing toe to toe, only a breath apart. Her eyes scan him up and down, taking in the perfectly tailored black suit (although he’s beginning to worry that his trousers may be too tight) along with the cinched green corset vest.

“You look good.” She praises softly, another dangerous smirk accompanying her lips as she raises up on her tiptoes and whispers right by his ear, “I look better.” 

And he couldn’t agree more, but for some reason, his normal witty remarks seem to be stuck in the back of his throat. He only watches her with unrestrained admiration like he’s looking at a beautiful work of art, before holding his hand palm up. 

“Dance with me,” he manages to say in a steady voice, though it takes all of his willpower to do so. A bright, genuine smile lights up her face, one that nearly knocks him off his feet as she slides her hand into his. 

“It would be my honor.” She giggles before turning and dragging him onto the dance floor, the sensual waltz still playing. She turns to face him again and raises a hand to rest it on his shoulder as he slowly slides his along her waist to rest it on her lower back. He takes her right hand in his left and begins gliding across the floor with her to the music. She lets out a nervous chuckle, and although she’s not a bad dancer, it’s clear she’s having a hard time keeping up with his well practiced steps.

“Sorry-” she starts to apologize, but she’s cut off by her own yelp of surprise when he wraps his arm tighter around her waist and lifts her up until her feet are standing on his toes. The two of them waltz effortlessly now, dancing across the floor so smoothly, it’s as if they are floating just above the ground.

“Better?” He asks softly, a joyful glint in his eyes. She nods in response, and looks up at him with the same bright smile. With their bodies pressed together, hand in hand, chest to chest, it’s almost as if their heartbeats become one, the rhythms intertwining with the sound of the band and the blossoming of a feeling so intense it makes Loki forget they are surrounded by people watching their every move. 

“So… I win right?” The question pulls Loki out of his thoughts and he lets out a deep, genuine laugh, a sound so rare for him but one so commonly associated with her now. 

“As much as I hate to admit it, I believe you did.” She smiles triumphantly and lets out a laugh of her own.

“I better have. This dress was ridiculously expensive.” He chuckles at her and shakes his head, his eyes once again scanning her figure and her features with a myriad of emotions in the deep green depths. 

“My darling, it is not the dress that has won you this victory.” His eyes trail up to hers, pausing for a few moments too long on her wine red lips. She holds his gaze, her lips parting and her cheeks flushing at his comment. They fall into a silence as they stare at each other, the band beginning to play a different song but neither of them seem to notice. Loki stops waltzing, instead only swaying with her in his arms as his face leans closer to hers.

“You- I don’t-” She stammers over her words and laughs weakly at herself as they both move closer, the tips of their noses brushing against each other. Her eyelids are hooded as she breathes out, “I want to kiss you.”

That’s all it takes for Loki to press his lips firmly to hers, months of pining and desperate attempts at silent confessions pouring into the kiss. His arm tightens around her waist and her hand moves from his shoulder to his hair, tugging gently at the raven strands and pulling a growl from his throat. They kiss until she has to pull back for air, a happy giggle leaving her no longer perfectly painted lips.

“Took you long enough.” Loki finally opens his eyes at the statement and lets out a breathy laugh. 

“Took me long enough? I feel as though I have been very apparent in my desires.” He quirks a brow at her and smirks, sure that there are marks of her lipstick on his lips and the thought makes his head spin.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes, using her thumb to wipe some of her lipstick from his bottom lip. “Sure you were.” He silently takes in her flushed cheeks and soft smile, studying her with a gentle love, but also with something much deeper, something more hungry. 

“So, green’s mine now, right?” She tilts her head and smiles innocently at him. He chuckles darkly, his grip on her waist tightening as he presses her even tighter to his lithe figure.

“Oh hardly. Perhaps this was only an excuse to see you in my color.” He hums out in a low voice, and with the hand he has on her back he can feel the shiver that runs down her spine. “But… perhaps I could be persuaded to allow it to be our color, yes?”

“Persuaded how?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper, but their close proximity allows Loki to hear her perfectly. He responds at first with another dark chuckle, moving so his lips are right by her ear in a way that mirrors what she did earlier as he responds in a deep whisper. 

“I’ll show you.”

a/n: this is the first fanfic i’ve ever posted aahhh! i hope you liked it! feedback would be GREATLY appreciated. this is unedited and probably has a few errors haha sorry about that. i’m considering writing a second (smutty) part to this so let me know if i should~ oh and, here’s a link to the corset vest i imagined loki in, but feel free to imagine it any way you’d like. https://innovacorsetry.com/products/corset-vest

#loki laufeyson #loki fanfic #loki x reader #first fic #loki smut #avengers #everyones alive bc i said so #bucky barnes #thor odinson #sam wilson #tony stark #new fanfic #pining #are we about to kiss #green green dress #loki is a simp

[mushroom-trafficking]

bing bong ask meme tell me about them please

Benji 1, 18, 39

Max 2, 12, 23

Archie 13, 17, 28

Putting this one under a cut!

Benji:

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

“Rarely is there truly ever nothing to do. There is always something I can busy myself with. The only thing I dislike more than boredom is wasted time. Any time not utilised is time wasted. I can barely withstand five minutes without engaging in something.”

18. What embarrasses them?

“Oh. Wouldn’t you like to know.”

It actually takes quite a lot to embarrass him. Usually he’s the one embarrassing others because of this. It took him long enough to get over embarrassment to just wear the clothes he enjoys so he tried to not let anything get in the way of what he enjoys. The worst thing you can do however is be direct with him, he’s very flowery and indirect about things if you get what I mean. Calling him out on his bullshit works wonders too.

39. How easy is it for them to ignore flaws in other people? 

“Name me someone who isn’t flawed! We’re all just trying to get by and do what we can, hard to be perfect when around every corner is someone trying to ruin your day.”

The answer is INCREDIBLY easily. He’s no saint himself. He’ll readily ignore quite glaring issues if you help him with whatever it is he wants done. Besides openly flawed people have no right to judge when they’re also working with a flawed idiot.

Max:

2. How easy is it for your character to laugh?

“Eh, not a lot of people are actually that funny.”

Max tends to steer towards dark humour as a coping thing, but not a lot of people find that shit funny. He rarely lets down his guard enough to enjoy the humour of those around him. It’s usually something really daft will get him going. Ya’know like when you send your Dad a funny animal video and he’s crying with laughter when it’s not really that funny? That kinda thing. Once you find that niche you’re in.

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

“Sometimes if I’m lucky the mutt can sort it out, but not always. I gotta be careful on account o’ the whole, ya’know, claw situation. I shredded a shirt once trying to get to a spot on my back. Not my… Proudest moment.”

Max’s death is able to touch him at times, not constantly, but enough. Sometimes he gets lucky and it can sort it out for him! Personal back scratcher! Though if that won’t work he sometimes just fucking rolls around like a damn dog if no one else is around. Catch him rubbing himself on a tree like a bear and watch him run faster than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

23. How does envy manifest itself in them (they take what they want, they become resentful, etc)? 

“I’ve started tryin’ to just go after the shit I want. I’ve spent long enough not getting what I want from life I think I’m deservin’ of shit finally going my way for a change.”

Envy itself isn’t something Max struggles with often. He’s a former rich kid so he knows how the other half have lived and he’s pretty much over it at this point. Though he is incredibly resentful overall, he’s got a lot of unlearn and get over.

Archie:

13. What color do they think they look best in? Do they actually look best in that color?

“Oh, uh. Hmmmm. BEST? Oh man, that’s hard. I like most colours pretty equally… It’s so hard to pick a favourite… My Ma always said I look good in white… But I think everyone looks good in white! It’s WHITE! Hm. I think. I think it’s gotta be between turquoise or burgundy! But I don’t have much of either at the moment sadly…”

Archie hasn’t really been allowed to explore his options much fashion wise. But now he’s loose on the town there’s nothing stopping him from trying out new styles! He does struggle with picking a favourite colour though, his ideal thing to wear would be one of those colour block jumpers where each part is a different, bright colour.

17. Are they easily embarrassed?

“N…No… (10 second pause) Okay. Yes. I never used to get this flustered back home but out here in the dust it’s… A bit more. Intimidating. I know the wings are a lot but c’mon!! Quit staring!!”

The youngest of three Archie actually had a pretty thick skin back home. Especially being of demonic descent, people get pretty judgy. But that quickly faded getting out into the real world. With any luck he’ll build it back up over time once he’s a bit more used to it out in Red West.

28. Would they prefer a lie over an unpleasant truth? 

“The truth is ALWAYS the best option!!”

Dealing with the ramifications of certain withheld truths, Archie wants nothing but the honest truth. Even if it hurts. Though it’s quickly becoming apparent that the truth is not something post people enjoy sharing around here. Archie only believes in lying for the bit.

#benji #max #archie #oc ask meme #ask #my art

[triflesandparsnips]

All right, let's talk about Mary Bonnet and Evelyn Higgins.

So we know that Mary declared Stede dead at some point prior to his arrival at British-sailor camp. We also know that it's been enough time for her to develop a new style, get a painting tutor, fuuuuuck that painting tutor (GOOD JOB, GIRL), fall in love with that painting tutor (maybe before or after the fucking, whatever, GOOD JOB, GIRL), develop her own little friend circle of widows, and get enough of a reputation that she could actually draw guests to an art show who weren't her immediate friends and family.

My thought? It wasn't more than a month after Stede left that Mary got him declared dead. Depending on when exactly he left, it could've been less than a week.

Imagine, if you will, the bills coming due. Stede doesn't go out much, so perhaps no one's noticed that he's missing, but-- the tradesmen must be paid, wages have to be dispersed to the servants, the home farm needs supplies... there has to be money. Mary might have her own pin money she can spend from, and that might tide over one or two bills, but even that needs to be replenished from Stede's accounts. Accounts that Mary herself can't very well demand that Stede's man of business hand over to her because her husband has decided to fuck off to parts unknown.

I mean, she does try. But Mr. Barkley is a bit of a bastard, it turns out, and now she's on the street in front of his offices and trying very hard not to cry.

This is how the Widow Higgins finds her.

The Widow Higgins -- Evelyn, the towering blonde will correct -- is something of a personality in Bridgetown. She owns the local dress shop outright, and since there's not much by way of competition the women of town are generally forced to put up with Evelyn's... peccadilloes. The smoking, for one. The matching eyepatches. The accent. Mary has always found herself fascinated by what little she's seen of the woman-- but Evelyn rarely attended any of the ladies who actually frequented her shop. If she was there at all, she seemed to prefer sticking to the doorway between the front of the shop and the back, ready at a moment's notice to snort softly at the indecisiveness of the gentry, smoke curling up like a dragon's breath from her nose, before pulling back the curtain and disappearing into the seamstresses' domain.

Evelyn was mysterious. She was independent. She was tall. Mary didn't really know why all of that equaled up to someone she rather desperately wanted to be friends with, but there it was. Not that Evelyn had ever shown any interest back-- once or twice, maybe, when Mary had asked for her bodice to be cut a little lower, or to try some color other than the pale pinks and yellows her mother had insisted were the only shades that suited her. But Evelyn's attention never stayed very long; Mary was a married girl, and just as silly as all the others, apparently, and that was that.

It probably hadn't helped that Evelyn had met Stede. Stede had a habit of wanting to attend this, of all Mary's regular errands, though he'd never invited her to join him on his day-to-day. She rather thought she'd like to learn about the property and what went into its upkeep, and if she'd wondered, sometimes, if maybe Stede would hold her hand as he helped her over a stile, or maybe he'd find a convenient bale of hay somewhere that unlocked the core of spontaneity and, and heat she thought he might have somewhere in him that never seemed to make itself known in their more private evenings... but. Well. If she'd ever wondered all that, she knew better than to say it.

Which was fine, actually, because he always made a face about it whenever she'd brought up his tending to his responsibilities, and tried to reassure her as to how boring it was, and then ask if she wouldn't rather get another dress. Stede seemed to think that was all she was good for: dresses. And then he'd come with her and spend all day just talking about fabrics and cuts and bothering Evelyn about the latest fashions from the Continent until Evelyn left without a word and Mary inevitably ended up in their carriage home, sitting silent next to Stede and wondering why in the fuck her husband thought she had no thought in her head beyond the latest bit of brocade.

So. It was with some surprise that standing outside Mr. Barkley's misogynistic shit of an establishment and trying not to scream led to the Widow Higgins -- Evelyn -- stopping immediately in front of her, looking her up and down, and saying, "Problem with the husband?"

Mary, blinking hard and uncertain whether speaking was really an option for her at the moment, nodded.

Evelyn flicked the end of her cigarillo, ignoring the ash that dropped onto her blood-red dress in favor of staring at Mary. After a moment, a smile crooked up the side of her mouth, making her one eye crinkle. "Thought so. C'mon. I'm buying."

And so it was that Evelyn dragged Mary into that mysterious back room of her dress shop, past the seamstresses at work, and then farther on into her personal office, where she sat Mary down on an overstuffed couch, plied her with more than a little whisky, taught her to smoke, and drew up the steps -- clearly memorized, clearly boiled down to its fastest application -- that Mary would need to take to declare Stede dead and herself the proxy for his accounts until Louis came of age. Evelyn also invited her to the Weekly Widows' Business Tea and Support Group, offered to buy off any clothes that Mary would be happier seeing the back of so that she could cover expenses in the meantime, and casually mentioned that Mary had tits to die for.

It took a few hours, all told, but most of that was because Mary was damned if she'd leave before she managed at least one smoke ring.

And the tits thing was pretty excellent as well.

#our flag means death #evelyn higgins #mary allamby bonnet #mary bonnet #backstory fun #free plot bunnies #if you write it link it #do the thing

[nian-7]

could i ask for imai lisa sfw alphabet? tysm have a good day/night!

yes! enjoy, anon

Lisa Imai x gender neutral!reader sfw alphabet fluff

Affection

Lisa is pretty affectionate. She loves to hold your hand and kiss you! Cuddling is always a must with her as well because she likes being warm and with you!

Beauty

Lisa loves your voice. It's honestly her favorite thing to listen to. Doesn't matter if you sing or if you don't talk much, she loves it so much and could listen to you talk forever.

Comfort

She is actually pretty good at comforting you. She always finds the words to make you feel better and will offer you some of her homemade sweets.

Domestic

Lisa loves to bake and cook so it's no surprise that she can easily make almost any meal you want. Cleaning also comes pretty easily to her since she doesn't find it too hard and sometimes pretty fun.

Equal

She tries her best to keep your relationship as equal as possible. Neither of you are more dominant in it than the other and you both like it that way.

Fight

She's always the first to apologize after a fight. Although it is rare when you both argue, she almost always apologizes to you first even if its not her fault.

Gentle

She can be a little overly excited but when it comes down to it, she's quite gentle with you. Always makes sure you're okay and that anything you both are doing is okay.

Hugs

She loves hugs. Lisa can't go a day without one. It's so comforting and full of love when she hugs you and overall she's a great hugger.

Impression

Her first impression of you was based on your style. She thought it was interesting and had wanted to see if you were also into Gyaru fashion.

Jealousy

Lisa isn't the jealous type. She can get a bit sad if you're not with her but thats just because she misses you. She knows you have friends so she doesn't get jealous all that much.

Kisses

She loves giving and receiving kisses. Nose, cheek, forehead, etc. Anywhere is fine with her. They're always so full of happiness and love towards you as well.

Little things

Lisa always paints your nails (regardless of gender). She likes to make them colorful and sometimes you both forget about the date you planned because you're painting each others nails.

Mornings

In the morning, you'll always get a cute text from her with a cute emoji at the end of it. It's just a cute way she's always greeted you and it's just a habit now.

Nicknames

She normally doesn't call you a nickname but sometimes she'll make one up for you on the spot and call you it for a little while.

Open

She's pretty open with you and doesn't hide much. She'll always come to you with her problems when she can because she trusts you.

Patience

She is pretty patient but sometimes can be a little impatient. If you forget to text her back or call her back, she'd get a little worried and impatient and text you to make sure you didn't forget

Quirks

Lisa loves to paint her nails but always gets sad when they chip while she plays bass. She always asks you to paint them (even if it's badly done) because she likes spending time with you!

Romance

She tries to be as romantic as she can. She'll get you flowers or homemade chocolates on Valentines Day. Cookies are also a frequent gift from her. All the flavors you can think of.

Security

She's not protective with you. At least not noticeably. She gets a little protective if someones making you uncomfortable or any situation where she feels that you need her support.

Try

She always tries to her best of her abilities. You both take turns planning dates or when you both hang out. She also always gets you gifts on any special day.

Ugly

Lisa has a habit of being a little over cautious with you. She always checks to make sure everything is okay and she thinks that you're annoyed by it sometimes.

Vanity

Lisa is pretty concerned about her looks. She's always staying with the latest fashion trends and trying new styles.

Whole

She does feel a lot better when she's with you, it makes her feel more confident and better about herself when you're around.

Yuck

She could never have a partner who doesn't take her interests into account. She loves fashion but if her partner doesn't put in the effort to talk about it with her, she wouldn't feel good about it.

Zzz

Lisa is a light sleeper. She loves to cuddle and sometimes it's the only way she can fall into a deep sleep because she knows you're right there with her.

please do not repost any of my work without my permission, thank you for reading.

#lisa x reader #x reader #fluff #gender neutral reader #nian-anon #bang dream #bang dream girls band party #bandori #lisa imai x reader #lisa imai #lisa #sfw alphabet #fluff alphabet

[kingsmenuniverse]

Do Wood Make the Best Stair Stairs?

Stairs may provide an excellent focus point when thinking of home improvement projects. A quick and easy method to give your home more personality and charm is to replace your stair treads. There are various materials that may be used for stair treads, but wood is a tried-and-true classic that comes in a variety of species. Choosing the best flooring for your home might be challenging with so many possibilities available.

To make the choosing process easier, we will examine and contrast a lot of beautiful varieties of wood used for stairs flooring .

1.Pine Stair Treads

Homes made of poplar have a distinctively rich, somewhat darker grain appearance. It's a fantastic choice to compliment the lighter tones of white oak or to bring warmth to your staircase. One of the cheapest possibilities for stair treads is poplar. But that also means that it is less durable than oak, maple, or hickory. Therefore, before purchasing popular treads, it's necessary to take into account how much use your steps get. However, popular is an inexpensive choice to give your house a touch of darker wood.

2.Steps made of oak

The wood used for stair treads is frequently oak. It has many advantages that make it a wonderful choice.

Oak is one of the most resilient wood species and goes with almost any home style. Additionally, it has a number of other possibilities.

White and red oak treads both offer light tones to the room, giving it a cheery appearance. They produce a style that is light and airy with a touch of rustic charm.

For these reasons, many homeowners who are upgrading their homes choose oak stair treads.

3.Wooden stair treads

Another popular option for wood stair treads is hickory. Hickory is the most resilient wood on our list, making it one of its most appealing qualities. Hickory might be your best option if you're worried about how long your new stair treads will survive. The slabs with brown and white stripes give off an airy, natural feeling.

Despite being stunning in any environment, hickory complements a rustic style because each tread displays a variety of colors.

4.Maple Stair Treads

The tan and white tones of maple make it a preferred option for a variety of wood goods. Maple adds texture and character while blending in with any existing design. Maple stair treads are second only to hickory in terms of long-term durability. The cost of maple stair treads falls in the same range as that of hickory and oak. The species selections for maple are similarly varied. Hard maple and soft maple cultivars are generally divided into these. Any one of them is a wonderful investment for a stair remodel because they each have distinctive aesthetic attributes.

5.stairs made of walnut

One of the more expensive possibilities for tread is walnut. The wood's dark brown tone, which gives warmth to a space, is undoubtedly its most distinctive quality. It is a great choice for stair treads since it conceals grime and dust better than lighter woods. In addition to its darker tone, walnut is renowned for its frequently striking wood grain coloring. Character walnut is an additional choice that has remarkably erratic wood grain patterns. Walnut stair treads' lack of durability, however, is by far its biggest drawback. Walnut is less resilient than hickory or oak, although costing more. Similar to poplar, durability should be taken into account when making a purchase.

Kingsmen is a well-known brand in best engineered wooden flooring in Bangalore . We are renowned for our expertise, dependability, and effectiveness. In addition to having floors, we also build houses that are functional and aesthetically pleasing. In all major cities, such as Bangalore, Chennai, etc., our items are offered at the most affordable pricing.

To accommodate any design aesthetic, we offer a large variety of wood varieties. The unique grain of Burma Teak, the brilliant, warm tones of Oak, and the variations of other wood kinds are all equally fascinating and fascinating.

[wits-half]

babygirl:(

#SPOILERS FOR PLATOON IN TAGS!!!!!! #platoon #elias grodin #first of all how cool is his name????? it's so fucking nice sounding. me drooling over character naming. more likely than you think #i was like 'i will draw a lot of elias. as a treat' because i had a hard exam week #but i did only one and it took me like 6 hours??? fuck that #okay second of all. literally ignoring canon again #they fucking Slaughtered my baby. my baby boy. my little sunshine #au where everything's okay<3 i literally don't care. they picked him up on a fucking chopper i don't give a shit<3 #i love him so much he's just a lil hippie with a gun #jefferson airplane playing so hard rn #tried a new style of coloring and it's equally as hard as all the other ones because i never fucking learned color theory #willem dafoe #fuck it. bye sweaty #okay i just realised im not stable it's 5 in the morning i might start crying because of him #nik draws

[abimess]

Blurb Collection: Red (Taylor’s Version) #02 - Red

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Y/n tries to deal with a broken heart through painting

Pronouns: not used

Warnings: heartbreak, angst, breakup

I started writing this one as a rather odd idea and ended up with a lump in my throat 🥲 hope you guys like it

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Masterlist | Library Blog

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You only have a few more days before the deadline. If you don't finish this painting in time, you will lose the Arts Collection sponsorship and God knows what else will go wrong from there.

All the texts and voicemails from your agent were promptly ignored by you. It wasn't your fault if you couldn't paint, if all your mind could think about was her.

Her. The one you loved with all your heart and who was the reason for your breakdown. The one who took you up to the clouds and then threw you all the way to the ground. Or maybe you both fell together, in free fall. You couldn't tell.

In any case, all the paintings you had made since the breakup a few weeks ago were discarded. Nothing looked good, nothing felt right. Even trying different patterns, artistic styles, and colors, nothing worked.

So, you tried to do what you hadn't tried before. Paint her.

First the blue. Of the sky, with few clouds, and the water under the bridge, static. But also blue like the pain that was losing her, an excruciating hurt like you'd never known.

Then the dark gray, for the stone bridge on which you first saw her. But also the dark gray, gloomy and depressing, of missing her, of loneliness.

And continuing the painting you reach the red. Oh, the red. The red of her skirt but of much more beyond that.

It's hard to think of a more intense color than red, especially after she presented it in the most profound possible way.

Red was her favorite color. It was in her clothes, in her accessories, in the objects in her room. And it was also in the beginning, in the fiery passion and colossal love that blossomed from it. And it was also at the ending, with the anger, jealousy, frustration, all of them fruits of insecurity and miscommunication, both of which were equally red. Burning red.

"The painting is ready."You eventually hear the voice coming from behind you and you quickly wipe the tears from your face with your paint-soiled fingers. When your agent approaches you, you look at her just long enough to cast a simple smile. Your eyes soon return to the painting, as do hers. "Is it-?"

"It is." You answer before she can finish. You couldn't hear the name, it was already too overwhelming to have it echoing only inside your head.

"Do you want to send it to the gallery?" She asks cautiously, but you smile, "Of course, not everything that seems ours truly is."

You rise from the stool, wiping your hand poorly on a nearby cloth. The redhead flashes you an empathetic smile, and you reciprocate as best you can.

"Good night, Natasha." You say as you walk away. She replies, and the only other thing you hear afterwards is your footsteps going toward the bedroom.

Walking through the streets of New York, Wanda tries not to get too lost in her thoughts, trying to take in all the details that the city can offer. But then she stops, abruptly, her eyes finding a painting displayed in the window of a small art gallery.

There it was... herself. And she knew it was her because it was the same outfit she was wearing the day she met you, on the same bridge on which you took her several and several times after that. Until the last one.

With a sad smile and watery eyes, Wanda allows herself to observe the painting one last time before continuing on her way.

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And that's it for today! I hope you enjoyed it, thoughts and comments are always welcome ツ

#01 - State Of Grace || Blurb Collection || #03 - Treacherous

Taglist: @yuhloversxx @madamevirgo @an-evergreen-rose @helloalycia @wandas1mp @cantcontroltheirfear @diaryoflife @cristin-rjd @ensorcellme @aimezvousbrahms @natasha-danvers @purplemeetsblue @randomshyperson @peggycarter-steverogers @b0mbdotc0m @ethereal-pxradise @stephanieromanoff @tomy5girls @gingerbreadcookieforlife @imapotatao @musicinourlips @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @allfiguredout @olsensnpm @magicallymaximoff @nothing-isimpossible @mionemymind @itsmionet @xastrydx @sxfwap @nicole-rayleigh-hot @wellsayhelloaagin @midnight-lestrange @1-800-depressedlesbian @b-5by5 @blackwow34 @nervoustrack @somewhatgreatexpectations @yeetus-thyself @chelleztjs18 @franfineashell @mrromanoff (if you wanna be tagged check the form on my BIO)

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagine #Blurb Collection #Red (Taylor’s Version) #Spotify

[watchmegetobsessed]

Drum it out - Harry Styles

a/n: hiya lovelies! im bringin an OC fic this time only because i had a strong vision about the girl and thought it would be best to have her as one instead of Y/N this time, but hope you’ll enjoy it regardless! Remi Devon is a baddie, i like her!

pairing: Harry x OC

summary: Harry is forced to find a new drummer since Sarah is about to become a mom, but no one seems to be good enough to replace her. It is until he meets Remi Devon, the woman who completely takes his breath away from the moment he sees her on stage.

word count: 7k

warning: NSFW content, some slight spanking

masterlist

“Don’t worry, you’ll love her just as much as I do!” Sarah smiles at Harry, giving his arm a gentle squeeze as they make their way into the small but cozy looking bar. Harry is skeptical, mostly because for him, no one compares to Sarah and if it wasn’t for her pregnancy, he would do anything to make her stay in the band. But he is so happy his two friends are starting a family together, it’s only that Harry is now forced to look for a new drummer as it’s getting harder for Sarah to keep up with the hectic lifestyle they’ve been living. Her bump is now pretty obvious and it’s only a matter of time until she can’t sit behind her instrument.

They’ve been trying to find someone to replace her during the second half of her pregnancy and at least the first year after she gives birth, but no one seemed good enough. Truth is, and Harry knew it damn well, that his problem was always the same: they weren’t Sarah.

Now she has dragged him to check someone out, a girl Sarah knows from years ago and who was told to be a mind-blowing drummer, though Harry has doubts about that.

“Sure will,” he hums, not too convinced about it.

The bar was previously a small theater, the seats have been taken out on the ground floor, replaced with tables and stools around the sides and a dance floor in the middle. The gallery is used as a kind of VIP area, this is where the two of them are right now, sitting at a small table in the front corner so they have an amazing sight of the stage where a local band is about to start very soon. Sarah said Remi, the drummer in the talk, is just a jump-in for the night for a friend, but it was a great opportunity for Harry to check her out.

“You know, she beat me at an audition a while ago. This super cool rock band was looking for a drummer for their mini-tour in Canada, because their drummer broke his leg and we both tried for it. There were still some people waiting to audition when she went in and she blew their mind so much, they just ended the audition right there,” Sarah tells him, the story still holds a dear place in her heart. She and Remi used to be close friends, but got a little distant as life took them to different paths. Now they are meeting up every few months when they are in the same city, catching up on everything since they last saw each other, sharing their equally exciting stories.

“Really?” Harry asks with genuine surprise as he takes his beer from the table and glances down at the stage. Everything is set up already and his eyes move to the shiny looking drum set at the back. It’s hard to imagine himself finding someone as good as Sarah, for Harry she has been the etalon ever since they met. But now he is forced to find someone even though he doesn’t want to, not even a bit.

“Yeah. She is the kind of girl that just turns heads wherever she goes without even trying.”

“You think I would get along with her well?” he asks, turning to face her just in time to see the wide smirk on her lips as she nods.

“I think you two would make an epic duo, H.”

“Alright, now I’m interested,” he smiles softly.

“She said they will play a lot of covers.”

“What kind?”

“You’ll see,” she smirks, sipping on her lemonade, a hand going to slide down on her stomach.

The dance floor is not packed, but there are a lot of people, seemingly most of them are here specifically for this band called Striped Shoes, Harry hasn’t heard about them until now but he is always happy to discover new music.

Soon, the lights go down, darkness falling to the theater, the only light is coming from the bars at the back. Then a spotlight turns on and a guy is standing in the middle of it, cheers erupting from the people as he starts playing the guitar and Harry immediately recognizes the song: Smells like teen spirit by Nirvana. Just a few riffs later all the other spotlights come on, each of them illuminating a member of the band and Harry’s eyes flick to the drum set where the only female on the stage is sitting, he catches her the moment she starts playing, the vibrant energy lingering around her almost knocks him off the stool even from this far away. Her hair barely reaches her shoulders, it falls to frame her heart shaped face in soft waves, the roots are a darker color than the rest that’s an odd shade of mahogany, but it suits her perfectly, Harry thinks. She has a few tattoos littered across her arms but not a full sleeve on any of them. They are on full display in the shirt that’s sleeves were seemingly ripped off, the fabric is raw on her shoulders. It seems to be some kind of old band shirt but Harry doesn’t recognize the logo on the front. Her legs are wrapped in ripped jeans and Harry is immediately mesmerized by how steadily she keeps the rhythm while absolutely nailing the song.

She makes it look so easy yet fascinating, her head snaps back a few times, a satisfied grin stretching across her lips as she enjoys the music, clearly a fan on it. She doesn’t miss a beat and flows into the next song that’s an original from the band as if the two songs were the same while she had to switch up the rhythm entirely through the transition.

Harry feels starstruck, watching this woman take the whole show, in his opinion, while simply sitting behind the drum set, playing like no one he has ever seen. She puts all of herself into it and that’s why she manages to outshine everyone else. Harry knows how hard it is for a drummer to get the same kind of attention as other members, but Remi makes it seem like it’s the natural, like drummers are the front people without a doubt.

When the cover version of Rock and Roll by Led Zeppelin comes on, in a way more hard rock version, Harry almost fears the stage is about to catch on fire. The song already has amazing drums in it, but the band gave it even more attention, giving a chance for Remi to show how amazing she really is.

“So? What do you think?” Sarah shouts over the music and Harry suddenly realizes he is not alone. He managed to zone out on the drummer without even noticing.

“She is… amazing,” he admits truthfully, in complete awe of what he is witnessing. This is music. This is passion. This is exactly what Harry always looks for in musicians and Remi has a whole lot of it.

They push the short drum solo a little longer at the end and Harry watches as Remi finishes the song standing, playing so hard that with the last hit, one of her sticks simply snaps into two, flying across the stage as she is breathing hard, skin glimmering from the sweat, her hair a complete mess from all the head shaking she’s been doing, but Harry thinks that it’s the hottest thing he has ever seen in his life.

Sarah knows she finally found her replacement, judging from Harry’s look she knows he is a sucker for Remi so she just lets him enjoy the rest of the concert.

When they play their last song and they all gather at the front of the stage to bow in front of the audience, Harry finds himself standing as he is applauding the band, but especially Remi who doesn’t even know Harry Styles is now a fan of hers.

“Let’s talk to her, shall we?” Sarah suggests once they disappear from the stage. Harry nods, finishing up his beer before the two of them head backstage.

Sarah has been put on the list since she previously let Remi know she would be coming. She was ecstatic to see her old friend, however was not told that Sarah would be coming with someone else so when Remi spots the two of them walking down the small hallway at the backstage, she is surprised but not shocked. She knows Sarah has been working with him for a long time now, but she wasn’t expecting him to be here tonight.

“Hey! There you are, mama!” Remi jokes with a heartfelt chuckle as she hugs her old friend. “Already looking like a milf!” she teases, earning an eye-roll from Sarah.

“Rems, I want you to meet Harry. Harry, this is Remi Devon.”

Remi’s eyes meet Harry’s piercing green ones and for a moment, Harry feels his stomach drop. She is even more breathtaking up close, in her simple but very fitting outfit, hair pushed back from her face carelessly she is easily the first woman ever to make Harry nervous to the point where he is having a hard time to even talk.

Remi holds out a hand for him smiling warmly and he luckily takes control over his actions and shakes it before it could get awkward.

“Nice to meet you, Harry. Heard a lot about you,” she chuckles softly.

“Hope you believed only the best,” he nods with a shy smile.

“Oh, of course,” she winks and Harry swears he felt his heart skipping a beat.

“We actually have something to talk to you about, Rems. Do you have some time for us?” Sarah asks.

“Yeah, just let me wash my face and I’ll be right back. There’s a small green room on the left, feel free to wait there,” she nods and disappears a moment later.

Sarah and Harry move into the room as Remi told them to and just a few minutes later she storms inside, a new shirt hugging her torso, a simple black one, but it’s tight unlike the one she wore for the concert. She sits into the armchair while Sarah and Harry have taken the small sofa.

“Alright, I’m all yours,” she smiles at them crossing her legs. Harry knows he should be the one to bid the offer, but it seems like he is not finding his words just yet. But Sarah is quick to talk when she realizes Harry is at a loss of words.

“I brought Harry today because I wanted him to see you play. We are currently looking for someone to take my place shortly,” she explains, placing a hand to her bump. “I know you’ve been freelancing lately so I thought you’d be interested in working with the band and of course Harry.”

“Oh!” She seems genuinely surprised at the offer. “So this was kind of my audition in secret?” she chuckles.

“You could say that,” Sarah smiles.

“And how did I do?” she asks, eyes meeting Harry’s gaze that hasn’t left her face since she arrived.

“You… definitely passed. The best I’ve seen so far,” he tells her and the smile on her face is worth everything for him. 

“So what does this mean exactly?” This time Harry answers, finally finding his voice.

“If you are not too busy in the upcoming time, I would love to have you as my drummer,” he states, handing her the offer on a silver plate, basically.

It’s an offer most musicians dream of, so Harry thinks she’ll accept it right away, but of course, Remi is not like others. 

“I’ll be needing some more details before I give you my answer though,” she smiles.

And that, she gets. A few days after the concert Remi meets up with the rest of the band and Jeff to talk about all the details. She clearly wants to know what she is jumping into and Harry respects that. At the end she accepts the offer and as Harry watches her sign the paperworks, a huge wave of satisfaction and excitement washes over him. 

***

The public imagines Harry as the picture perfect human being who is always at his best, never making any mistakes, but that’s far from the real truth. He is as flawed as anyone else, it’s just that not many get the chance to see him in this state.

His bandmates are among the few privileged ones that are bound to see all his ups and downs as well and since Remi is part of them now too, she has witnessed his bad days since they have started working together.

Harry’s growl is heard in the microphone when he is supposed to be singing and the music soon comes to a halt. It’s probably the tenth time he is messing up the exact same part because his head is just not at the right place. He knows he should be at the top of his game, not wasting his colleagues’ precious time, but he just can’t bring himself away from the heavy thoughts that’s been occupying his mind lately. There are days when he is as free as a bird, not a worry in the world, but sometimes everything comes down at once and he feels like crumbling under the weight of his own career.

“Sorry guys,” he apologizes into the microphone, a heavy sigh escaping his lips as he closes his eyes for a few seconds to collect himself. The silence in the auditorium where they are currently rehearsing for tour is harsh, everyone is tired and they can feel the nerves creeping up on them about the upcoming tour and making sure that everything is perfectly in place for the first show.

Remi looks around from behind her drum set, holding her sticks in one hand and she doesn’t like what she is seeing. A group that’s always so happy and carefree is now just a big ball of stress, this is not right. 

“Guys, why don’t you all wrap it up for today, I’ll stay here with Harry and help him get it right,” she offers.

“How do you want to practice without everyone else?” Mitch asks, not at all in an offending way, more like out of curiosity.

“I’ll find a way,” she smiles softly and he doesn’t push it further. 

As the rest of the band is packing up, leaving slowly, saying their goodbyes Harry is sitting on the floor next to one of the speakers, head hanging low, deep in his thoughts. Adam is the last one to leave the place and once it’s just the two of them, she stands up from behind her set and walks over to the desperate man.

“Get up,” she orders, not in a bossy manner, more of a ‘do what I asked, I’m trying to help’ way so Harry obeys. Standing up he towers above her, almost a full head taller than Remi, but still, sometimes she can make him feel so small.

Harry has noticed that her energy is making her push the air out of his lungs sometimes, just the way she stands, looks, moves around a room, it’s making her appear like the ruler of everyone around her. He has often found himself just staring at her from afar since she has joined the band and even though she has caught him ogling her a few times, he just still can’t bring himself to stop admiring her. He definitely has a fat crush on the new addition to the team, however now his feelings are pushed aside, their place taken by his anxiety and worries.

She takes his hands and pulls him to the middle of the stage, putting the microphone stand to the side so they have some space cleared out around them. She then turns to face him, a warm smile tugging on her lips while he is rather curious about what she has on her mind.

“Scream,” she simply tells him, his eyebrows immediately knitting together in confusion.

“Wha’?” 

“Scream,” she repeats, but he is still lost about the situation. She chuckles a little before taking a few steps away from him, twirling around her heels before stopping facing the area where the audience is supposed to be during a concert. “Whenever I feel like I’m locked, like everything around me is so suffocating that I can’t even function normally, I take a minute and just let it all out,” she explains before taking a deep breath and hunching over, the most eardrum-breaking scream bursts out of her, making Harry jump a little.

She holds it long, until her throat is cracking up and she runs out of her breath, then the scream dies and she takes a deep breath, filling up her lungs again. Harry stands there, completely stunned, thinking that if anyone heard her now, they are surely convinced she is being tortured here. 

When she turns back to face him again, she is smiling as if nothing just happened, like it’s the most natural thing to randomly scream from the top of her lungs on a casual Wednesday night.

“Now it’s your turn,” she tells him, but Harry doesn’t feel like it’s gonna be his thing at all. But he still turns to the side, clears his throat and lets out a not too forceful shout that’s quite saddening compared to her scream. “Oh, come on, I’m sure you can do better, Styles,” she chuckles, hands on her hips as she tilts her head to the side.

“Is this really necessary?” he questions, eyebrows still furrowed at her.

“Very much. Now come on, do it!”

“Remi, I--”

He doesn’t have the chance to finish, because she screams at him, knocking the air out of him once again, making him flinch at her sudden action.

“Scream!” she then snaps at him.

“I don--”

“Scream!” she repeats forcefully and Harry gives up. Taking a deep breath he lets his voice out in a hoarse scream that’s way more vibrant than his last attempt. “Yes! Again!” she grins nodding and he does it again.

And then again and again, until he feels like his chest is completely empty, like nothing is keeping a tight grip on his insides anymore. He is panting, mind racing as he realizes how much better he is feeling now, meaning that Remi’s technique worked.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, smirking, her arms folded on her chest.

“Fucking awesome,” he chuckles out of breath, running his hands through his messy hair. 

“Great. You think you can handle going through the song now without messing up?”

“I… think?”

“Alright, grab your guitar and I’ll give you the beat.”

She moves back behind her set as Harry grabs a guitar, throwing the strap over his head, turning to face Remi behind him as he places the microphone stand in front of him.

“I’ll go softer on the beats, you just do your thing okay?” she tells him and he just nods, fingers already on his guitar.

Kiwi sounds a whole lot different with just the drums playing weakly and only one guitar playing, but it’s not what matters. Harry finally manages to go through the song without messing anything up.

When the song ends and the music is replaced by silence, Harry can’t help the grin stretching across his face.

“I fucking needed that,” he sighs, his head falling back for a moment as the last bits of euphoria settles in his body.

“Want to go over something else?” she asks, turning back and forth to the sides on her stool, playing with the sticks, twirling them between her fingers easily.

“You sure don’t want to go home like the others?”

“Let’s see what choices I have. I can go home and watch an entire season of Love Island on my own, eating leftovers from two days ago or I can stay here, play music with a hot dude. I think I’m fine with the second option.”

Harry’s eyebrows shoot up at how simply she just called him a hot dude, his heart fluttering in his chest again like the first time he saw her play, only difference is that now her eyes are piercing on him and it’s just the two of them in an empty room. He is already having thoughts that should probably be pushed down.

“Did you just call your boss hot?” he teases her then.

“I don’t think you’re my boss,” she scoffs. “You need me here more than I need to be here, so I think I’m the one having the higher ground,” she points out and Harry knows she is so damn right. “Besides, I know you find me hot as well.”

He is quick to blush at her words, but that doesn’t stop him from questioning her.

“What makes you think that?”

“I see you staring, Harry. I’m not oblivious or naive. I know you like checking my butt out every time I’m fixing my set leaning down,” she chuckles and now he is certain his ears are a deep shade of red, he was caught more often than he thought, it seems like. “Also…” she smirks slyly. “If you think you hid your hard-on cleverly the other day when I played my solo, you are wrong.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Harry mumbles, cursing himself for being such a horny teenager around her, but he can’t help it. The woman is the epitome of everything Harry finds so fucking attractive, it’s like she was made for his imagination specifically. “This, um, this is a little awkward, but I’m sorry--” “Oh, don’t be,” she chuckles. “I’m just lucky I’m a woman and my arousal can’t be seen that easily,” she comments and Harry almost chokes on his own breath.

Did she just admit she has been turned on by him before? When? What did she think about? What was it that made her turned on? Harry needs answers, however he is not given the chance to get them.

“Alright, you can choose two more songs we’ll go over and then we are off,” she simply says, as if they weren’t just talking about being horny a moment ago.

“Uh, maybe Only Angel and, um, Lights Up?” he prompts, trying his best to regain his composure. 

“Cool. Let’s do them.” And with that, she switched back to work mode without batting an eye.

***

It feels like the crowd will never stop screaming. It just keeps going and going, people are probably losing their voice, but the screaming just continues as Harry stands at the front of the stage, his adrenaline jumping to the sky, eyes roaming around the full arena. He throws a few more kisses, placing his hands to his chest one last time before turning around and heading off the stage, his eyes meeting Remi.

She is not wearing her usual clothes, instead, she is now sporting a pair of high-waisted dress pants in a lavender color, a white top tucked into it, her matching blazer thrown to the floor, she probably got hot the moment she started playing. Her tattoos are on full display and she looks just as sweaty as Harry feels. But still, for him she is a sight he would love to look at for the rest of his life.

Their eyes meet and she smirks at him, eyes glimmering from the high she experienced through the concert, it’s a feeling they all share every time they perform together and it’s clearly like a drug neither of them wants to come clear of.

“Good job, Rockstar,” he reads her lips saying and he laughs, winking at her.

Ever since their one-on-one rehearsal, things have felt to change between them. It’s like a barricade that’s been lying between them has come down and they are feeling much more free around each other. Secret glances, touches and flirty comments are their usual and they don’t care that the people around them are starting to catch on it as well. They love the game they are playing and neither of them plans on stopping it.

Harry stops at her drum set, holding out a hand to help her up and walk her off the stage, knowing well she doesn’t feel the most comfortable in her stage clothes and feels a little too restricted by the end of the concerts, but she understands that her style does not go well with the look they are going for. 

She snatches her blazer from the floor and gladly takes Harry’s helping hand as he walks her off the stage, her Gucci boots feeling a little too tight at the moment.

“One of these days I’m gonna rip these pants off,” she jokes, pulling on the tight waistband of them.

“Just make sure I’m around when it happens, Darling,” Harry teases, making her laugh as they walk backstage, everyone congratulating them and the band following behind on their way.

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Very much,” he admits without shame, the blushing long gone from his cheeks and ears. The buildup has changed his nervousness around her lately and he is enjoying the teasing and flirting all too much. 

The whole team agrees that tonight’s show was exceptionally good and that it deserves some celebratory drinks. A few blocks away from the hotel where everyone is staying there’s a cozy looking bar and the rather loud lot occupies half the place as they flow in and start ordering their endless rounds of drinks. 

Harry is sitting at one of the tables they have taken up, going strong with his third beer of the night, half zoned out of the conversation with the small group he is sitting in. His eyes are fixated on Remi’s figure who is standing at the bar with Charlotte, unlike every other female around she is not sipping on some kind of fancy drink or a cocktail, she went straight for the crafted beers the place had to offer. She has changed her stage clothes, wearing her usual tight black jeans and a sheer top with a simple black sports bra underneath it. Harry can’t stop his eyes from raking down her body, taking in every curve, tattoo and tiny detail about her and he thinks that there is not one thing on her he doesn’t find attractive. 

Her eyes find him, a playful smirk playing on her lips Harry has been thinking way too much about lately, and she cocks an eyebrow at him in a way that yells at him: Like what you see, Rockstar?

As an answer, he just simply shrugs with a growing smirk until she turns back to Charlotte, who is still talking to her, she hasn’t even noticed that Remi was focusing somewhere else for a moment. Remi laughs at something her bandmate said and Harry wishes he could be closer to hear her voice, he has grown quite a liking to her laughter, he has been trying to crack as many jokes lately as he can just to hear it.

He takes his eyes off her just for a second when someone at the table asks him something. He mumbles his reply and reaches for his beer as his gaze shifts back to her figure, only to find that Charlotte is not gone and a not so friendly looking guy is behind her, clearly trying to chat her up.

The dude is standing way too close to her for Harry’s liking, leaning in to talk to her, but she keeps backing away, however he does not care about that. She is clearly not enjoying the exchange and when the guy reaches up to her face Harry is quick to jump to his feet, ready to go to her rescue. But it’s not needed.

Just as he takes one step towards the scene near him, he witnesses as Remi grabs the bloke’s hand before he could touch her face and with a strong and quick move, she twists his arm behind him, keeping the guy on his toes as he is trying to escape her deadly grip on his wrist, his hand pushing into the middle of his back.

Harry’s mouth hangs open as he watches Remi tell something to the guy in a not too friendly manner before letting him go and the man flees before Harry could blink twice.

“That was impressive,” Harry tells her, walking up to her at the bar. Remi just shrugs, gulping down the rest of her beer. 

“I know some tricks.”

“How come?”

“Grew up with three older brothers, had to learn how to defend myself when they decided to attack me out of nowhere.”

“Three brothers? That must ‘ave been wild,” he huffs impressed.

“I surely didn’t have a girly childhood, I’ve always been kind of a tomboy,” she shrugs again. As a teenager, she often wished she would be like the girls in her class, but later on she realized how big of an advantage it is that she speaks the boys’ language so easily.

“I think it just made you… badass,” Harry smirks, leaning against the bar counter.

“Is that what I am?”she arches an eyebrow cockily. 

“Definitely. A handful, but the good kind.”

“Oh, just be careful, Rockstar. I might think you are trying to get into my pants,” she chuckles and as Harry hears her laugh he can’t stop himself from taking it further. She is too intoxicating.

“And what if I am?”

Remi doesn’t seem surprised at his comment, not even a bit. She is clearly enjoying the flirting once again, but when she answers, he surely is the one who is surprised.

“Then I gotta say you are working way too slow. I’m losing my patience.”

His eyebrows rise, lips parted as he stares back at her, the words that left her lips pushing the air out of his lungs once again, he is done for her. Utterly and completely. He wants to say and do a million things, but then settles on just one simple question.

“Want to get back to the hotel then?”

“Thought you’d never ask,” she smirks and simply heads towards the door without another word spoken. Harry is quick to grab his stuff from the table and catch up with her at the exit. 

The crispy night air feels a little sobering as they both step out of the bar, heading to the nearby hotel with rushed steps, keeping their silence but they both are grinning madly. When their eyes meet they can’t push down the laughter and Harry grabs her hand before he starts running, pulling her after himself.

By the time they reach the hotel they are both out of breath, adrenaline running high once again as what’s been building up between them since the first time they saw each other is finally about to bloom fully.

Remi pushes the button for the elevator and as it moves down painfully slowly Harry’s hands find her hips, pulling her back against his chest. His lips tease the soft skin on her neck, peppering kisses everywhere he reaches while his fingers dig into her skin under her sheer top. She leans against him, head falling back to his shoulder and she pushes her bum against his crotch, a whiny moan escaping his lips that makes her smile in satisfaction. 

“Fuck, Remi,” he breathes out, eager to finally have her all to himself and make all his fantasies come to life. The elevator finally dings and as the door slides open Remi turns in his arms abruptly and grabbing onto the collar of his shirt she simply pulls him inside, hand snapping on the button of his floor and just as the door slowly slides closed and they start moving up, her lips finally crash against his.

They are kissing hard, eager to take as much from each other as they can, they are both greedy, wanting the other all to themselves, the heat of the moment lighting up the small elevator. His fingers rake through her hair, grabbing a handful of it in each of them while one of her hands slide down his upper body until it stops on the obviously growing bulge in his pants. Harry moans shamelessly when she gives his erection a teasing squeeze and she smirks against his lips, satisfied with how easily he reacts to her touches. 

Harry melts into her, wanting to devour every bit of this moment with her, he is seeing stars when she takes his lower lip between her teeth and tugs on it. A hand flies down to her ass and he squeezes it hard without shying about how much he is enjoying touching her.

The elevator reaches their floor and once again he grabs her wrist and starts pulling her down the hallway towards his room. Her lips are glued to his neck when he is trying to get his keycard from his back pocket and open the door, but when he finally succeeds, they basically fall into the room, tangled into each other and the door snaps closed behind them. 

He is quick to push her against the door, lips attacking her neck, nipping and sucking on her skin until he is sure a mark is left on her. 

“Off with it,” she pants, her hands tugging on his shirt and they work with all four of their hands to unbutton his shirt until it flies across the room. Remi pushes on him, hands spread across his hot chest as they get farther inside the room. The bump into some furniture on their way, lips glued together again until they finally reach the bed and fall right onto the perfectly made sheets. They are both showing dominance so it’s a constant fight for the lead between them, rolling around until at last Remi ends up on top, strangling his lap. She straightens up and grabs the hem of her shirt, getting rid of it fast before she does the same with her sports bra, baring her upper body completely to Harry’s greedy eyes.

“Fuck,” he breathes out, pushing himself up until he wraps his arms around her, mouth meeting her chest, littering her heated skin with sloppy kisses until his lips reach one of her nipples.

“Yes!” she moans as he starts playing with it, his hands coming to cup her breasts, massaging them continuously before his mouth moves over to her other nipple, giving it the same attention. 

Harry uses her momentary weakness and turns them over, his crotch coming in contact with her center as he pushes his hips between her legs forcefully. He kisses down her stomach before he leans back and works fast on the buttons of her jeans. The tight material hugs her legs stubbornly, but he is eager to get rid of them and he soon succeeds, leaving her in just a lacy black thong. He undoes his own pants in a heartbeat, pulling them off and throwing them to the side before he gets on top of her again, kissing her lips so hungrily as if it hasn’t been just a few moments since he kissed her last. 

She whimpers under his touch when he moves a hand between her thighs, running his fingers along her clothed folds, her arousal already soaking the fabric. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his hand into her underwear, her juices wetting his wandering fingers and he teases her hole and clit playfully.

“You better not fucking tease me, I don’t like that,” she pants, her dark eyes meeting hers and he can see the threat behind her words, she is not joking.

“Then what do you like?” he breathes out, eager to please her so much, she’ll forget about everyone else she has ever slept with.

She doesn’t answer, instead, a devious smile tugs on her swollen lips as she pushes him off until she is able to move. Harry is now kneeling on the bed and watches as Remi pushes her ass up into the air, back arching perfectly, her thong looking so delicious on her round butt and when she pushes herself back so her behind meets her throbbing dick in his briefs he could cry from the sensation. His hands immediately grab onto her asscheeks, pulling her even harder against himself.

“Smack it,” she breathes out, glancing over her shoulder.

“Yeah?”

“Do it,” she nods and Harry doesn’t need more encouragement, he lifts a hand up and smacks her ass so it leaves a little redness after it. Remi moans erotically, enjoying herself fully and seeing how much it turns her on, he smacks the other cheek as well.

“You are gonna be the death of me,” he whines and pushing down his briefs his erection finally springs free, he grabs it with one hand, stroking himself a few times while his other hand is keeping a tight grip of her ass.

Remi wants to see him naked, so she quickly pushes herself up to her knees and turning around her eyes fall on Harry stroking himself. Hunger fills her eyes as she launches forward, lips meeting his while her hands simply take the place of his on his length, doing the job for him.

“I’m on birth control. When were you last tested?” she mumbles against his lips before leaning back so she can get rid of her thong and Harry does the same with his underwear.

“Three weeks ago, haven’t been with anyone since and I’m clean,” he mumbles in a rush.

“I’m clean too. You can ditch the condom if you want to.” “I wanna feel you,” he pleads desperately as she lies back on the bed and he gets on top of her again.

“All yours,” she smirks, spreading her legs wide for him, the sight in front of him is easily beating any art he has ever seen, he thinks. 

He positions himself to her entrance, but doesn’t push into her just yet, leaning down so his lips brush against her ear as he whispers into it.

“Let’s see if you feel just as amazing as I imagined.” And with that, he pushes into her with one swift movement, stretching her all the way until his whole length disappears inside her.

“Fuck, Harry!” she cries out, back arching at the sensation. He sucks on her neck once again as he starts moving in and out, fitting inside her so perfectly, he is convinced she was crafted just for him. 

He is going fast and hard, their pants and moans completely filling the hotel room and they can only hope they can’t be heard by anyone right now. She circles her legs around his hips, the angle he is reaching making her toes curl behind his back.

“You feel so fucking good,” he chokes out, face contorting into a blissful frown as he is getting closer to his orgasm with each thrust.

“I want to be on top,” she gasps, already pushing on and this time Harry doesn’t hesitate to obey. He rolls to his back, pulling her with him so now she is on top. Her hands come to rest on his stomach as she starts riding her, circling and lifting her hips so perfectly, so breathtakingly that Harry could cum just from the sight of her bouncing on him, but the feeling is making it a mind blowing experience. His fingers dig into her hips as she is starting to move faster and faster, before Harry starts bucking his hips up to meet her rhythm as well, going so deep into her, he is having a hard time deciding where she ends and where he starts. They are completely merged together in one hot mess. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” she screams gasping, her head falling back as she doesn’t fall out of her rhythm, still being such a drummer even in the bed, dictating the beat. 

Harry pushes himself up into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around her so he can push her naked chest against his, their sweaty skins sliding against each other relentlessly, creating friction.

“Scream my name when you cum,” he orders, his lips finding hers once again, but it’s a messy kiss, their teeth are clanking, noses are bumping together as they are both nearing their high.

“Harry, oh fuck!” she exclaims and with her next movement he can feel her clench around him.

“Louder!” he growls on the edge of his own orgasm.

“Harry! Harry!” she screams shamelessly, throwing him over the edge, a guttural moan bursting from him as they both fall out of the rhythm, satisfaction washing over them in waves.

“Oh shit!” she breathes out, lips against his as she keeps him close with her hands on the base of his neck. 

“Fucking Hell, Remi. I think I almost had a heart attack,” he breathes out with a soft chuckle making her laugh as well. She pulls him into another kiss, but it’s way slower now, the hunger and greed taken by their pleasure, now it’s time for something softer.

When they fall back to the bed, arms and legs tangled as they are still trying to stay close to each other, Remi looks up at him with a tired smile.

“So, was it like you imagined?” she asks and he chuckles softly.

“A thousand times better. But now we have a problem on our hands.”

“And what would that be?”

“Now I’m hooked. I won’t be able to stop thinking about you, not that it hasn’t been the situation since the start.”

Remi chuckles shortly, pushing herself up enough so she can look comfortable at his flushed out face. 

“Well, it’s a good thing we are kind of locked together for months.”

“I’m one lucky man, aren’t I?” he smirks, so full of himself before he pulls her back down, kissing her like they have all the time in the world on their hands.

#harry styles #harry #styles #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #harry styles x you #harry styles au #harry styles imagine

[inlustrissss]

What about a fluff one shot of L falling in love with his friend and work partner... but he has no idea how to declare his love for reader so L decides to ask for misa's help.

Also, can i get a Goth and Gender Neutral reader? 👉👈

you asked, you got it! Although I am just a little bit late, I hope you won't be mad at me for this 🥺💕 I tried my utmost best with keeping it respectfully gender neutral so I hope you like it!!! Love, Inlustris

Monitor

L Lawliet x GN! Reader

warnings: none!

summary: After solving one case after the other, in the most dangerous moment the famous detective known as L finally starts to realize what is most dear to him. Though never being involved with feelings or touchy subjects, L asks an outsider for help. 

My requests are open! Submit here!

Throughout the big room no light shone through the thick curtains which had separated the working place from the window that lead to the outside world. 

As the busy streets in the afternoon spring sun, came to an end, only the tired clicking and ticking could be heard. The static of the TV wired to one of the main bodies of the computers flickered and played over the loud chirping of the long-billed plovers. As the rainy days came to an end, the smell of fresh gras was almost visible, though the headquarters seemed to only know serious work. 

The (H/C) haired only sighed, noticing their long friend and colleague working on a file absentmindedly.  Normally, a person who didn’t know the infamous detective L, they’d always find his behavior questioning, but would never interfere- thinking the male would work that way. Though (Y/N) knew, this wasn’t his 100%, something must be on his mind.

Glancing, almost stalking him for a while, they thought the genius would notice their stares, which he usually does, but for some reason his nail biting only intensified. Having talked to Watari, L’s personal butler, both of them ad agreed on trying to remind the man to stop his habit. Even this genius is human and gets trapped by simple anxious habits.

“Ryuzaki-”, calling him with his alias during working time and while on the open, he tensed up, “Stop your nail biting.”.

Even with their soft tone escaping their rosy but now colored in a beautiful darker shade he seemed to grow more nervous. “Besides, isn’t it time for a break? I’ve noticed the past couple of hours you’re not acting like yourself.”, looking around, the noticed they were alone. “Are you okay?”, they asked in a hushed tone.

Looking around, L noticed the big, round and innocent looking (E/C) orbs,  staring back into his dark irises, worry etched on their face. Their make-up and unique style fitting and contradicting to their profession as always, L rushed his thought that they’d probably make a better model than Misa-Misa.  But it would be a waste to their current investigation and future cases, due to their outstanding performance as his right hand.

Inching closer to L their (E/C) eyes narrowed, squinting ever so slightly. L didn’t make any movement, not a flinch. Their eyes would notice everything, even the slightest squirm. Quickly turning around though, L shrugged “Whatever you are talking about-”, taking a hold of his sugary cup of tea, the male stood up to leave, ”You’re right, it is indeed time for a break.”, opening the door, he left the dazzled one behind: “Monitor each fottage I left please, thanks (Y/N)”

Taking a long sip out of his plain white cup filled with a half of tea and the other half of sugar, L placed down the now empty cup on to a silver tray, that mostly Watari used to transport little sandwiches for each hard working inspector and treats for the detective. Taking some time to think about the events, L let his hands slide into his pockets, though stopped mid way as he had noticed that certain ping sound coming from the elevator.

Looking up, it was the said model: Misa-Misa, with her blond hair swaysing each step she too and the extraordinary Lolita-Goth look he oh so liked on his partner. Meeting her sea blue eyes, her facial expression lit up and her friendly and happy go lucky demeanor showed: “Ryuuakiii!”, waving her hand at him while dragging the letter “i” into an annoying laughing fit, she revealed a fashion magazine in her left.

“Good afternoon, Misa.”, waving back to the blonde, though with less enthusiasm, he asked, “Were you on your way to see (Y/N)?”, mentioning the magazine in Misas hand. “Oh yes!”, holding the magalogue into view, showing proudly the front page which contained the last few shootings the model mentioned the week before her last visit, “I wanted to show them the new copy we’ve been waiting for and--”, L cut her off by raising his hand, “Sorry, you can’t see them right now, it’s still working time, Misa.”

“Aww, seriously? You probably just want them all for yourself!”, pouting, Misa just crosse3d her arms before her chest, but L remained silent, softly repeating her words to himself “All for myself?”. The blonde looked up, a curious gaze meeting the raven haired, “So you do want her all to yourself!”, giggling, the model covered up her red lips with her free hand. “I’m not quite sure what you mean by that, they are a person on their own, I can’t simply restrict and own them.”

“Of course you know what I mean, you’re a genius, you should know!”, sighing, the blonde twirled a lose strand of hair between her middle and pointy finger: “Maybe all of that sugar did get to you..”,mocking the male, L just shrugged, “I don’t think so.”

But this did got him thinking: Does he truly want them all to himself? It indeed has been now quite the long time he was restless while working, not entirely there. His mind wandering off into an imaginative world or worrisome state whenever (Y/N) wouldn’t be around- no, scratch that, it didn’t matter, he quickly noticed.

Wether they’d be there or not, his mind was partly fixated on their well being. Though wasn’t it always like that? They’ve been partners for a really long time, longer than his knowledge of Naomi Misora for sure, and friends too. 

He read a lot of things during his early days, a lot about solving different puzzles and games, but he could never wrap his hand around when they came.

His experimental time with how feelings would work while (Y/N) were partners were over, he saw himself to them as an equal by now, but what if- “Helloo, earth to Ryuzaki!”, waving the magazine in front of the famous detective, Misa huffed, “Man, bet you’re thinking about (Y/N) if it takes you that long to get out of your dreamy thoughts”, gifting him a look of her tongue, she mocked him again, “You should try that brain-work on finding Kira! I wanna go on a date with Light already again, he promised!”, a date?

Maybe a little trip, spending the day with his friend would make the situation a bi8t lighter- finding out about his true thoughts and feelings that hid in his clouded mind. “Can’t believe I’m saying this-”, he murmured, “But: Misa, I might or might not need your help with something.”, he bluntly responded, ignoring her witty comments., “Help? With what?”, again, her airy head. Sighing, L explained another time, “You see, you’re such an emotional person, where I’m more technical.”, shoving his hands into his pockets, in a hunched position he began to walk, motioning her to follow him into a room across the hall, “The past few days I might’ve felt a little bit under the weather and I do have my suspicion, but to be honest, even as a detective, I can’t help but not be able to solve this mystery on my own, Misa.”

Opening the door, he held it open for the young woman to step inside. “What do you mean under the weather? Are you sick?”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it sick, when it’s just a feeling, I believe, and not just a condition.”, he stated, scratching his had as he continued to stay while Misa took the opportunity to relax her legs and sit down on to a couch. “Wait, was I maybe right when I said you might have a thing for (Y/N)?”, noticing how L had perked up by hearing their name, Misas sea blue eyes seemed to sparkle a few shades lighter, already rosy cheeks deepening. “Awww~ Ryuzaki, really?”, she cooed at the usually emotionless acting detective. 

Like previously mentioned, he’s also just a human.

“For a long time now, I want to find out about these thoughts that were kept in the back of my head.”, especially now the most dangerous case since Beyond Birthday, everyday might as well be the last day that he would glance at their beautiful eyes, and their wonderful perfume reaching his nose. “I’m just not sure how”

Eyes softening along with her features, Misas excitement toned down and switched with a warm smile, noticing how lost the male was when it came to the most basic human needs, “It’s fairly easy on finding out how you feel about them, Ryuzaki.”

“If it would be that easy, I wonder why I can’t put my finger on it”, lifting his thumb to his mouth he began biting down on his nail, eyes following the trail of the skyline, visible due to the opened window.

Standing up and entrusting her weight back to her feet, Misas smile never wavered, “Why don’t you just ask them out?”

Dark eyes wandering back to the model, he raised a brow: “I work with them every day, I see (Y/N) every day.”

“I don’t mean as a colleague or as a friend, Ryuzaki. I’m sure they’ll say yes regardless and besides, spending a day with (Y/N) will give you surely an idea if not a start of your thesis on how to feel about them!”, looking up at the taller male with a determined look, Misa Amane was more than sure: “And if the firt time won’t be enough, the ask them out again and again and again, until you got your answer.”, making her way to the door, she stepped out. “It’s not too late and not too cold to go yet.”, winking to the male she laughed one last time

 “Take them out-”, she waved, “There is this pretty nice café down the block! I’ll come around another time!”, with that, she had left.

Thinking over the blondes words, she must be right. Besides, some time off shouldn’t hurt, it never does. Slow steps were heard as L Lawliet made his way towards the ain investiation room, where he had left (Y/N) to continue his work, so none of the progress was lost.

Not forgetting any manners, he knocked, signaling that someone would come in and not startle them. “Oh, you’re back.”, their angelic like voice greeted the male. “Yeah, though it’s now you’re turn for a break, it’s time to wrap things up.”

Swallowing his build up lumb which seemed to sit tight above his adams apple, he stood straight, expression not changing: “Would you want to go out with me?”

Turning around swiftly, (H/C) hair danced around their pretty head in the process as their eyes widened and cheeks reddened.

“There is this pretty nice café down the block.”, he said.

Seeing them smile set her at ease, nodding (Y/N) only laughed, “Sure, L. Let’s go.”

Turning off the computers, (Y/N) stood up to join L’s side and walk down the hall towards the elevator. Smiling the whole way towards the Café and while being with him, (Y/N) couldn’t be happier.

Happy that Misa had come with her obnoxiously loud voice, gaining (Y/N)’s attention on the other side of the door and happy that the whole building is bugged.

No, they didn’t neglect their work- (Y/N) did monitor the fottage, though L did not necessarily mention which one. 

Just like spring had brought the most wonderful flowers, a relationship blossoming would soon follow up.

#l lawliet x reader #l x reader #L Lawliet #misa amane #death note x reader #gender neutral s/o #death note L #death note #death note l x reader #L lawliet oneshot #oneshot

[thatgirlwritingficsatnight]

Gift exchange

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve forgotten about your Christmas company party. Even worse you forgot to get a gift for the “not so secret Santa” - your company’s tradition. Wanna top it? Make it even worse? No problem. The person you were supposed to get a gift for? Your crush. Defsoul - the most talented, kindest and hottest person alive. What are you going to do now?

pairing: Lim Jaebeom (Defsoul) x reader

genre: smut, fluff, Jaebeom is a producer, Y/N is a manager

warnings: smut: daddy kink, light choking, ass play; foul language (please don’t read it if you’re not old enough)

words: 4989

A/N: TFW you try to write a GOT7 reaction, and you end up with one-shot. I know I’m kinda late with whole christmas theme but i wrote it last night and figured out I could post it anyway.

***

You barely got to shut your eyes before your alarm tore you up from your dreams. It was nine in the morning, and you went to sleep at six AM because of your work. You groaned as you shuffled in bed cursing your job, three hours of sleep was not enough for anyone. Being manager of K-pop girl group was hard enough but being the manager in December when there was award show after award show and festivals - that was a nightmare. To other people December was equal to Christmas, gifts, parties, New Year's Eve but to you, it was synonymous with constant state of tiredness, your biggest wish right now was to spent Christmas break alone, just you and your bed. You sighed as you dragged yourself to shower. Girls had only slept for 5 hours, and you felt bad for them — not only were they invited to each award show that existed they also just have had a comeback. You could see how exhausted they were and yet your superiors still pushed for them to go to some stupid TV show on Christmas Eve. You got yourself ready and went to pick them up and get them to set.

The recording went smoothly, and you were already daydreaming about coming home early and passing out on your bed. It was six PM already, but you still had to drive girls home and step into the office for a bit. You sighed you'd be home eight PM at best - well it was still better than coming home at two or three AM. You were about to go and thank everyone for their hard work when your phone vibrated. It was your best friend and coworker.

"Hey Inha. What's up?"

"I wanted to check if you remember about the company party tonight."

You hit your forehead and groaned.

"OMG! You forgot! Have you bought a gift at least?"

"No..." you whined. You wanted to die. You had so much work lately that you've absolutely forgotten about that party — it was for staff only and each year you'd drew lots to pick the person you were supposed to give a gift to. It wasn't even secret Santa your boss simply came to conclusion that gift exchange would help out with forming friendships...

"Girl... Do you at least remember who you drew?"

Of course you remembered. How could you not. This was your lucky year, you got Defsoul the hottest, kindest and most talented person working for your label. You had a small crush on him since that day he gave up his coffee for you. You were falling asleep standing while girls were recording their vocals, and he chuckled at you before telling you to sit by him and drink some coffee. It probably meant nothing to him but that was one of the most stressful weeks in your life, and you weren't sleeping at all during that time — ITZY were about to make a debut, and you couldn't stop worrying over it. You remember how touched you were by this simple gesture, after all no one ever gave you coffee, usually you were the one getting it for other people. His looks certainly didn't help with your hopeless crush. He was H O T and not even simply hot, more like "I-look-like-an-idol" hot. He had a black mullet, piercing under his eye, he also had his nose and ears pierced to make matters worse for you he also had most hypnotizing almost feline-like eyes. Honestly you wondered why didn't he become an idol with a face and talent like that. After that one time, he would buy you a coffee whenever he had seen you and you two became somewhat close - you'd swing over his studio when girls had to train and talk about everything and nothing. He told you about his cats, his favorite restaurants, his passion for taking pictures and well you mostly told him about your job since you basically didn't have any private life - it really felt pathetic. He even took your photo once - telling you that the picture would help him later when he would be looking for inspiration (it is a mystery till this day how you haven't fainted that evening). One day you were waiting for girls to finish up their dance practice and fell asleep on one of the benches — it was difficult day for you since you haven't slept for twenty hours already (you had to fight off some crazy sasaengs and didn’t sleep whole night keeping an eye on their dorm — some would say you were overdoing it, but to you members of ITZY were like your little sisters). You woke up in his studio on his couch. He carried you there while you were asleep and tucked you in, covering you with his jacket. You were extremely embarrassed, apologetic and thankful at the same time. He chuckled at you before saying that it was okay and forced you to promise that you'd oversleep to work the very next day. Inha claimed he had a crush on you since he never treated her with the same kindness or anyone really. But you knew better, he was a good colleague. A good, extraordinarily attractive colleague you wanted to kiss and lick and...

"Hello? Earth to Y/N??" your friend snapped you from your thoughts.

"I have to go Inha! Thank you for reminding me! Love you!" You checked the time, there was no way you'd manage to drive girls back, buy a gift, get ready for a party and do all that without being late. You sighed you will have to improvise. You drove off girls and came back rushing straight to your apartment. The party started at 10 PM and you had to shower, somehow fix your sleep-deprived face and figure out how you're going to apologize to Def... You were home a few minutes before 8 rushing into your bedroom - at least you knew what you were going to wear. That would be the most expensive, or more like the only expensive piece of clothing you had — a birthday gift from girls. It was an oversized tuxedo jacket from Alexander Wang and you haven't worn it yet. You tried it on, it had quite deep cleavage, and exposed a lot of your legs, but you figured it would be ok for tonight. You smoothed out black velvety material before stepping out of it. You still had to shower and do your makeup. An hour later you were looking at yourself in the mirror — the mask Inha got you really helped out with bags under your eyes. You did good with makeup as well: it was soft brownish smoky eye, orange toned lipstick and some shimmers here and there — you actually looked healthy and well rested (a true Christmas miracle really). You looked even better after getting in your outfit — Ryunjin was right, the tuxedo like dress fitted your vibe. You even wore some black heels which didn't often happen since you always chose comfort over looks when at work.  

Fortunately you got to the party on time even though you couldn't catch a taxi for twenty minutes or so. People inside were already mingling and drinking, and you decided to grab something to drink before looking for Def. You located a small table with champagne in the corner of the room. You downed two glasses as quick as you got there, and were already grabbing a third one when a voice spoke up startling you so much you jumped a little.

"Rough day?" Defsoul was standing next to you, whiskey in his hand, smirking at you. You immediately blushed and gawked at him. He was so handsome it was simply unfair. This man clearly woke up today and chose violence. He was wearing a silky black shirt — and it was quite unbuttoned, so you had a chance of seeing his broad chest (you were currently having a heart attack), and slacks he also styled his hair so that his forehead was exposed with one defiant streak of hair falling onto his brow bone. You wanted to groan. You fucked up — this could've been your chance to get him to like you more...

"Y/N? Are you alright?" he was genuinely concerned, and here you were, basically salivating and staring at him like a starved, nasty man. That was so embarrassing. You cleared your throat and looked away.

"Yeah, sorry. I'm just really tired today..." He smiled at you warmly, and you wanted to punch yourself for not getting him something, anything.

"That's great!" You gave him a confused look, and he bit his lip nervously while scratching the back of his head. He was so cute you could kiss him. Well to be fair you felt like you could kiss him any time. Why...why did you have to forget that bloody gift...

"I mean it's not great that you're tired... It's just… ah, shit I suck at this. Here." He handed you a plastic card, and you read it absolutely puzzled. Lifetime pass for coffee with Jaebeom — it also had a cute chibi character that looked just like Def, except it had some cat ears.

"Now you can get coffee whenever you want. I mean I know you can have it whenever you want anyway, I just thought that maybe you'd like someone to get it with... I mean get it for you… It's ok if you don't like it really, oh by the way I'm Jaebeom, I don't know if I already told you my real name or not…" he was rambling, and you were screaming inside your head. That was so cute. So kind. You wanted to hug him and kiss him so badly. "Ah, shit. I really do suck at this." he said more to himself than to you. You finally looked at him and grinned.

"I love it." you said and his eyes turned into big orbs before light pink colored his cheeks.

"You do?"

"I do. It's a perfect gift." you smiled, your heart swelled with happiness. You could technically go on a date with him whenever you felt like with this handy piece of plastic. That is if he wouldn't start to hate you in the next few minutes for forgetting his present.

"I'm glad." he grinned and it took your breath away. How come he was so perfect? You got even more nervous looking at the gift from him.

"Ah... I was your not so secret Santa as well…" you started.

"Really? So what did you get me?" he was genuinely interested, and you wanted to go back in time and kill yourself for forgetting about this party. You looked up. His eyes were gleaming with curiosity — you were fucked.

"It's me! I'm your gift!" you joked and looked down to cover your nervousness. You were about to say that it was just a stupid joke and apologize before he spoke up.

"I love it." his voice was deeper than normally, and you looked up shocked by it. He was checking you out, his hungry eyes traveling up and down. You've never seen him like that. You could feel warmth spreading on your cheeks under his intense stare, a tight knot forming somewhere near your core in excitement.

"Y-you do?" your voice faltered, and he chuckled while moving closer to you. He smelled musky with a hint of citrus. Your legs were about to collapse under you.

"I do." he hummed he was so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him. His hand brushed against yours as he bent down to reach your ear. You were sure your skin was burning where he touched you. "So, tell me Y/N, when can I unwrap you?" his tone was dark and dangerous and when he straightened up you've seen this gleam in his eyes as he smirked. Your legs felt like made from putty and you'd collapse if his hand weren't already wrapped around your waist. You couldn't believe it was happening. Your heart was beating so hard it was about to spring off your chest — you were wondering if he could hear it. You certainly could even though blood ringed in your ears. You felt your throat going dry and your panties getting moist.

"Def…" you started weakly. Shocked by your own voice — it sounded so needy.

"Call me Jaebeom.." he purred. "Would you like to go to my place? I don't think I can wait any longer to enjoy my gift…" You quavered from excitement, his voice was laced with a promise of sleepless night.

"Yes, let's go." you said and he smiled at you. You were sure you lost any oxygen you still had in your lungs at that moment. His hand left your waist, and you wanted to catch it and wrap yourself with it again. Instead, he grabbed your hand and interlocked your fingers with his, smiling at you sweetly before he led you outside. You couldn't focus on anything else, but his fingers wrapped around yours. His hand was warm, and he held you firmly, his skin soft and delicate. You managed to quickly catch a taxi and through whole drive Jaebeom's hand lazily travelled up and down your thigh. His gentle fingers sending sparks to your core every time he brushed the inside of your leg. You glanced at him, eyes filled with desire — he shivered, and it made you feel a different kind of excitement — you didn't know that you had this kind of effect on him. You got out of the taxi and his hand was instantly on yours, he was almost dragging you skipping every other step as he rushed upstairs to his apartment. He opened the door and let you in. Immediately three cats came in and brushed against your legs. You smiled softly.

"They like you.." Jaebeom murmured against your neck while taking off your coat for you, you gasped at the feeling, and he released low chuckle before he started planting soft kisses against your neck — each time his lips touched your skin your muscles clenched with anticipation. You couldn't wait any longer. You turned around and looked at him, his eyes were glued to your lips and excitement bubbled somewhere below your stomach.

"I waited so long for this..." he started but never got to finish as your lips were on his in a second. Even his lips felt like cotton, and you sighed against him when he kissed you back. He was clearly enjoying slow kisses. You grew impatient once again and licked his lower lip, he gave you access you asked for, and your tongue brushed against his hungrily. You could already feel how wet you were, arousal making your panties stick to you painfully. Jaebeom's hand travelled around your back dropping dangerously low now and then but never grabbing you — you really wanted him to hold you and take you roughly. Once again you grew impatient this night. You took his lower lip in between your teeth, you bit it hard and moaned. That seemed to make him lose his cool, he let out a growl that travelled straight to your core.

"Bad girl..." he said before he turned you around and pushed you against the wall so that your back was facing him. His tongue already on your earlobe, you sighed and shivered when he licked it and let out breaths against wet, sensitive skin. "I wanted to take it slowly, but you're so eager, so impatient…" he was purring into your ear, and you were aching down there more and more with each syllable.

"Jaebeom..." you moaned as you pressed your ass against him. He sucked some breath in when you pushed down against his hard length, his body working on its own accord, one hand already on your hips pressing you harder when the other one cupped your breast. This is not how he envisioned tonight, he thought that he'd at best confess his feelings not have you here crumbling in his hands while moaning his name. Your hips bucked against his by itself as soon as you felt how hard he was. His hand grabbed your clothed breast, and you regretted wearing anything. You wanted to feel him against you naked skin not through layers of clothing.

"Jaebeom-ah..." you moaned his name again, and he rewarded you with sucking on your neck — it was painful yet pleasant, and you almost forgot what you wanted to say before he licked the fresh mark and kissed it. "Didn't you say you wanted to unwrap me?" You said in weak voice still affected by his mouth on your neck. He laughed against your skin, and you thought that's how paradise would sound like.

"You really are impatient... do you want me to fuck you so bad?" he asked rubbing into you, his dick almost in pain from the friction.

"Yes...please..." you panted out, and he let out some animalistic sound upon hearing how needy you were. He made you face him and unbuttoned your tuxedo-like-dress before he tossed it somewhere behind him. You shivered under his stare. He pulled you into him and his hands immediately travelled to your ass, grabbing it and lifting you up without effort. He began kissing your jaw, neck, collarbones, and you tilted your head, so he could have better access. He carried you to his bedroom and laid you down carefully on the mattress before he took a step back. His sheets smelled just like him, and you sighed in pleasure, sinking deeply into his fragrance. He bit his lip seeing you in his bed, wearing nothing but lacy underwear. However, you didn't want just lay and wait, you got up and reached out to his own shirt undoing the buttons hastily, but he didn't let you, he was in control. He held your hands and pushed you back on bed. You bounced and your hair created a sort of crown, spreading around your face — it emphasized your features even more, and Jaebeom felt as if he was making love to some kind of goddess. Your lips, eyes, hair, body everything was perfect. He wanted to taste you already.

"You need to ask me nicely." He smirked at you and you pouted a bit before a mischievous gleam appeared in your eyes. You let one of the straps fall from your shoulder and gave him an innocent look before taking off the other one as well. Just one move and Jaebeom would see your torso naked. He bit his lip unintentionally, when you pushed your breast closer while also moaning.

"Pleeeaaase... undress already and fuck me... daddy." He groaned - you'd be the end of him. He quickly tore any clothes that were on him leaving only his boxers on, and you stared him down hungrily. Saying he was beautiful was and understatement. He was perfect. His skin was light and smooth, it gleamed in the moonlight that illuminated the room through a small window located right above the headboard. It was still dim, but you could clearly see the outline of muscles on his stomach, and a tempting v line, waiting for you to be licked on his abdomen.

"Take off your bra." he ordered and you obediently followed. His eyes devoured your glistening breasts, two darker beads already hard and inviting him in. He licked his thumb and brushed it against your nipple watching intently for your reaction. You didn't disappoint him as you arched your back hungry for his touch. He took another one into his mouth, his tongue making circles around it for what felt like forever. The sound of his wet licks and your quickened breath feeling the silence of the room. You squeezed your legs looking for any kind of release, it didn't help much. Your core was aching and since you could only wait for him to bring you pleasure you closed your eyes and focused only on the sole path of his tongue. It was almost like a torture and Jaebeom seemed to enjoy it greatly, lazy licks, circles around your nipples, blowing cold air on them to hear your whines. And so when he finally sucked on your swollen nipple you moaned his name so loudly his neighbors could hear you. His dick twitched in his boxers. He couldn't wait for much long either, you were the most beautiful person he ever saw, and you were squirming under him, waiting for him to fuck you. He was honestly shocked he didn't take you against that wall in his hall when you pushed your ass against him. He smirked at you, he haven’t even fucked you yet and you were already having this kind of expression. His lips travelled from your breast lower and lower before his face hovered above your panties, hot breath on your wet, clothed pussy sending you almost over the edge. You looked down at him, his eyes were full of lust. He was so beautiful you felt like it was just a dream, not reality. When he pressed his nose against your wet folds you moaned again. He inhaled it a few times as if it was the most ravishing smell in the world.

"You smell so good I might go crazy." He actually was going crazy as his cock let out a bit of pre-cum only upon him smelling your pussy.

"Daddy... please..." you pleaded looking him in the eyes, he couldn't take it any longer. In one swift move he tore the panties off you, they were soaked, and he sniffed them one last time before throwing them out.  He took off his own underwear, and knelt between your legs his cock in his hand already.

"You're so wet for me. Such a good girl, I'm going to fuck you so good." he purred out, and you could go off his words only. He put on condom quickly and teased your entrance before sliding into you slowly. He was watching your face intently as he didn't want to cause you pain.

"Just don't move for a second, you're so big I need to get used to the stretch." It was painful a and pleasant at the same time - the way he filled you up. He didn't buck his hips as you asked, instead he kissed your lips, your jaw, neck, and you kissed him back with passion. Soon he started rocking into you and you moaned into his mouth.

"Harder." you managed to say between the panting and kissing. He straightened up and increased the tempo, sweat building on his forehead.

"Harder..." you said and his hand went to your throat while he almost crushed into you. He choked you lightly, and you felt the orgasm building already.

"Daddy... harder..."

"You dirty girl. On all fours." You obediently followed his order and soon he was fucking you doggy style, his hand spanking you lightly. "You like that? You like when daddy takes you hard?" His voice was so low you shivered under him.

"Yes, daddy." you moaned out when his huge dick filled you with each thrust.

"You're so dirty and good to your daddy. I will reward you and play with your other hole." Before you could say anything he spat on your ass and his finger danced around the other entrance. Just that was enough for you to see white. Your toes curled and your head went back, you screamed his name like it was the only thing keeping you alive, and you could feel how he twitched inside you when you clenched around him in orgasm spasm.

"Y/N, ah... I'm cumming, I'm…" he said through gritted teeth while pounding into you. You both reached your highs and fell onto the bed. He discarded the condom and started kissing your back lazily.

"Do you want to shower together?" he asked.

"Yes, but I don't think I have enough energy to go for another round…" you said while turning his way. He was looking at you lovingly, his expression completely fucked out. He was beautiful, the most handsome you've ever seen him actually. You sighed when his fingers brushed off hair from your face in sweet gesture.

"That's ok, I'll just shower you and we can go to sleep." You nodded, and he took your hand and guided you to his bathroom. He switched on the shower and pulled you under the water when it was warm already. He was so delicate with you, soaping your body, shampooing your head. You smiled at him warmly, and he chuckled.

"You're really cute." he said with a smile after making and weird shapes out of your shampooed hair.

"Stop it, I'll blush." you said while getting under the water, he was quickly spooning you, kissing your back almost with devotion.

"Good, you're even cuter when you blush."

You both towelled yourself dry and Jaebeom even brushed your hair for you before pulling you back to bed. You cuddled your face into his chest and he closed his arms around you. You didn't know if it was one-night stand only, but you'd worry about your possibly broken heart in the morning since his scent was already inviting you to the dreamworld.

You woke up to some rumbling. You opened your eyes and shot up, fear washing over you — that wasn't your bedroom. Memories of last night came next, and you fell back to the sheets squealing quietly into his pillow. That's when the realization hit you. What if it was just one-night stand, and you were rolling around his bed happily in love like an idiot? You sighed but before you could do anything, the man in question came to the bedroom smiling at you warmly.

"You finally woke up sleepyhead." He sat next to you and bend down to kiss your cheek. You looked down. "What's wrong? Have I done something?" He looked concerned.

"I.. no." You said sitting up, and he raised his brow on you. Ugh, he was looking great wearing a plain gray hoodie. You sighed.

"Was that one just for one night? If it was a one-night stand tell me now before I do something stupid."

"One-night stand?" He looked at you offended. "One-night stand?! Do you even know for how long I've been crushing on you? It was few years of my desperate attempts to ask you out, buying you coffee, looking for you constantly. Hell, I even made Yugyeom exchange the stupid lottery draw with me, so that I could give you that card. I actually thought that would helped me out with asking you out. One-night stand?! Jesus, Y/N, he made me basically his slave for a day, and you're asking me if it's one-night stand?" He was angry, and you looked at him shocked, you have never seen him like that. "Do you want this to be one-night stand?!" he raised his voice again.

"No!" you answered him immediately.

"No?! Great, then you can... wait you said no?" He cleared his throat, and you could actually see him smiling like an idiot before he cleared it again. "Well… good because I made us lunch already, and it would go to waste otherwise." He tried to act cool. You giggled at him and pushed him down before sitting on top of him.

"You're cute." You said and he blushed looking away.

"I'm not."

"Yes you are. You are the cutest actually." He groaned in response getting even more red, and you giggled once again. It was the first time you got him to blush so much, usually it was just light pink appearing on the apples of his cheeks. You kissed his face leaving pecks all over it, he chuckled before speaking again.

"I don't want this to be one-night stand. I like you I was actually planning on asking you out yesterday."

"You were?"

"I was. So would like to go out with me?" he wiggled his brows at you and you grinned before nodding.

"Mmm. I'd love to." you answered and he pulled you for a lazy kiss.

"Come, I prepared some food for you. It's hardly festive, but it's something"

"I'm sure it's great. I just need to put something on myself first."

"You can have my hoodie and sweats." he said while looking through his cabinet. "Here." He handed you clothes and blushed once again mumbling that he will wait for you in the kitchen. He got embarrassed — that was just too cute.

You slipped in his clothes, his smell wrapping around you. You got out of the bedroom only to be greeted by three cats purring and brushing against your legs. You smiled and petted them, scratching them on their chins. Jaebeom was just standing and staring at you, still not believing his luck. You were wearing his blouse, it was hanging on you like a dress basically and his heart ached at this picture. You looked up and grinned.

"They like me!"

"I'm pretty sure they're going to like you more than they like me." He chuckled. "Now come, let's eat."

You nodded and entered his kitchen, there was kimchi jjigae and rice prepared for both of you. You smiled and sat down already salivating because of the delicious smell.

"Merry Christmas Y/N." He said looking up from his dish.

"Merry Christmas Jaebeom." You smiled at him lovingly. "So what did Yugyeom made you do?"

"Don't even ask." He said and you giggled. Let's just say you didn't get to spend the Christmas break alone in the bed like you wished.

#jaebeom fanfic #Jaebeom fanfiction #jaebeom x reader #jaebeom x you #lim jaebeom #lim jaebum fanfic #lim jaebeom fanfiction #jaebeom smut #lim jaebeom smut #got7 smut #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 reactions #jaebeom daddy #got7 #GOT7 fanfiction #got7 fanfic #jaebeom scenarios #thatgirlsfic

[justmaybee]

The Phantom’s New Clothes

(Alternatively: ‘I Like Ya Fit, G!’)

A/N: Yes, the spam is gonna end in a dumb fic. No, I’m not confident in posting it. But honestly? I don’t think I’ll ever be when it comes to Fling Posse. So I’m doing it anyways! Because Gen looks like a whole prince, and if I don’t start somewhere I’ll never be able to write them!

Summary: Fling Posse photo shoot time! ~ ☆ and Dice has taken a special interest in Gentaro’s outfit for the day….

Of the many things required by divisions during battle season, one ‘checkpoint’—so to speak—is the creation of promotional materials. A Chuohku-designated event, ‘asked’ of the representative teams from each district.

This is Fling Posse’s second time representing Shibuya, so Gentaro is more or less acquainted with the roadmap ahead of them. And as a group member—and friend—of one Ramuda Amemura, he’s quite used to the mild discomfort of modeling clothes far outside his comfort zone.

Though it had at first been a point of contention in the group—due to some very polarized creative decisions—Gentaro has grown into his role, just a bit. He may never go so far as to call himself a ‘model,’ but he’s done much stranger tasks for the sake of his posse.

Thankfully, this shoot leans decidedly into Gentaro’s style of choice. Unlike Ramuda’s last artistic venture, which had involved a bright yellow top in an aquarium of all settings, this outfit could be described as almost tame in comparison.

The blouse is a loose and flowing white number, tucked into a similar style of black pants. A little tighter to his waist than he’d prefer, but the fabric is soft and stretches down to his ankle—for the most part—so it’ll do. The addition of some colored cords to secure an ash grey cape around his shoulders finishes the look, and Gentaro hums an appreciative note when Ramuda shows him the full look in a mirror.

Ramuda seemed pleased, smoothing out Gentaro’s cape and tucking stubborn hairs back into place before flashing him a grin and bouncing off to help Dice finish dressing.

It’s comfortable, fashionable, and well-suited to his tastes. Gentaro must say, it’s one of his favorite designs from Ramuda so far.

That being said—there’s…one small thing he could recommend be changed.

It doesn’t occur to him until the picture taking is about to begin.

———

“Ya think Ramuda will let me keep it?” Dice asks, impish grin flashing his canine. He pops the collar, striking small poses as the dressing room around them clears out. Gentaro humors him.

He takes his time, stepping forward from behind Dice, peering over his shoulder at their shared reflection. His hand comes to rest on his chin, scrutinizing the tropical pattern with a deliberate trail of the eyes. He continues until Dice’s gaze lowers, until his hands start fidgeting in front of him.

Gentaro finally breaks with a smile, resting his chin on Dice’s shoulder. He can feel the way Dice sags with relief.

“It’s very likely that he will,” Gentaro muses. “This outfit was made specifically for you, and I’m not sure anyone else would wear it willingly.”

Dice nods in a small repetitive motion, absentmindedly checking his reflection in the mirror. The moment he comes to recognize Gentaro’s backhanded confirmation is both visible and audible. His body jolting upright with a pitchy ‘hey!’ tossed back over his shoulder. Gentaro hides a smile behind his hand.

“Oh, Dice. There’s no need to be insecure,” He coos. “From what I’ve heard, sustainable fashion is on the rise! This set may have been a curtain at some point, but your confidence in it is very admirable.”

Dice has that tight-lipped smile on, the one that pushes his cheeks up and makes his squinty faux-glare even more endearing. It says, ‘I know I’m being made fun of,’ but he continues to endure it anyways. Because it makes Gentaro smile.

Still, he’s come a long way since the early days of Fling Posse, and he won’t take things lying down if he can help it. So he sneaks his hand behind him, aiming a light pinch to Gentaro’s side; his comeback of choice since learning of Gentaro’s…sensitivity.

Unlike those recent times, Gentaro quickly back steps, pulling his head off Dice’s shoulder to smother a gasp behind a well-timed fist. Dice blinks, hand still hovering behind him in the empty air where Gentaro once stood.

Then he spins around; the biggest, toothy grin on his face.

Gentaro can feel the butterflies slowly flutter to life in his stomach. His free arm moves subconsciously, to wrap around his front and hide his torso. The longer they hold eye contact, the more his face begins to burn.

And then the photographer can be heard, calling Dice for photos.

They stay in place, gazes locked for a moment longer; then Dice shoots him a wink and jogs off.

Gentaro breathes a shaky sigh, rubbing away the phantom touch.

———

So yes, while it was obvious the outfit had less layers than Gentaro was accustomed to, he hadn’t realized just how much thinner the layers he wore were.

Photo shoots don’t have a lot of downtime, in his experience. There’s always group shots, touch ups, individual shots. While it’s undoubtedly ‘Posse Time’—as Ramuda would put it—he doesn’t get more than a passing word to either of his group mates at any one time.

Which make the times he runs into Dice all the more memorable.

Slipping past one another in the hallway when it’s Gentaro’s turn for solo shots. Gentaro feels a distinct skittering of nails over his flank. It has him stumbling, tripping on his own feet. He can hear Dice laugh as he straightens up and continues walking.

Getting his hair touched up, making sure his pesky bangs stay out of his face. Dice comes to watch for a while, leaving Gentaro with a quick pinch either side of his waist. He jolts so hard, the hair on his left side falls out of place. He mumbles an apology to the poor stylist, eyeing Dice’s retreating smile in the mirror.

In a moment to himself, Gentaro tries to retuck his blouse, smooth out the uneven bunching of ruffles. He doesn’t notice when Dice slips behind him, when he grips onto Gentaro’s hips—too easily accessible through these pants—and squeezes. Gentaro yelps, drops to a crouch to dislodge the ticklish pulses. When he turns with narrowed-eyes, he finds himself alone.

Although Dice has been able to startle a reaction out of him several times today, calling these occurrences ‘uncommon’ would be nothing short of a lie. In his extended stay at Gentaro’s apartment, Dice has been very — thorough in his exploits of Gentaro’s unending sensitivity. One could say that once he got a reaction, he couldn’t will himself to stop.

Also a lie. Well, a half-truth to be more precise.

While it had been Dice’s curiosity and willingness to take a chance that led to the discovery, he didn’t act on his newfound information much at all. While a very physically affectionate lover, he would never go so far as to touch Gentaro in a way that caused discomfort or distress.

No, absolutely not. And so despite many implicit hints and invitations, Gentaro found himself having to get very explicit.

He didn’t dislike Dice’s teasing touch.

No, quite the opposite actually.

It was flustering to a degree Gentaro couldn’t imagine, but…Dice got the message.

He got it loud and clear, and now here they are.

In a game of cat and mouse; Gentaro’s eyes darting toward every movement, hands enveloping his torso at the slightest noise. The fabric on his skin is light, breathable, and silky to the touch; impossible to ignore. His stomach swoops nervously, broiling with anticipation—borderline excitement.

Oh, the monster he’s created.

———

After two hours of lights, cameras, make up, hair, and such; things are finally starting to wrap up.

Gentaro can see the end’s approach easily due to experience. It always comes in the form of Ramuda’s name. Called out by a weary photographer and followed in turn by their leader’s sing-song reply, skipping happily out of the dressing room and into the limelight.

Ramuda’s solo shots are always saved for the end. One must save the best for last, of course.

That being so, it would be a good idea to begin making preparations to leave.

Gentaro can feel the pinpricks in his legs as he slides them off the dressing room couch, uncurling from his seated position. He kicks out, pointing his toes in a stretch, arching his back and spine. The relief pushes a quiet sigh from his lips, leaves him sagging back into the cushions for a moment, suddenly drained.

Time spent in the presence of others can already be tiring, but the looming eyes of Chuohku make things far more intense. Gentaro can find peace in having his posse with him, but the sooner he can get these clothes folded, the sooner he gets his regular attire back—the sooner he’ll be home and out from under the Party’s prying gaze.

It takes Gentaro a few attempts to rise to his feet. His center of balance equals out as Dice makes his way into the room. The timing is very lucky, Gentaro gets barely a greeting out before his arm is in Dice’s hold. Before he’s swung around, in a blur of cobalt blue and floral print.

His back hits the wall with a dull thud. Not hard enough to hurt—Dice would never—but enough to have his breath catch in his throat. The way Dice leans into Gentaro’s personal space—hand still firmly gripped around his wrist, pinning it to the wall beside his head—makes getting air back a bit difficult.

“Hey Gen,” Dice breathes, a soft smile on his lips that completely contradicts the situation, and makes Gentaro melt all the more for it.

“Hello, Dice.” Gentaro’s hesitation is hardly noticeable.

“Whatcha up to?”

It’s so casual — the way Dice speaks, despite their position which has Gentaro’s brain buzzing like radio static. Strangely, it’s somewhat placating, in a way.

“Well — I’d intended on tidying up while Ramuda’s away…” Gentaro musters up a teasing smile, a lighthearted jab. “If you’re attempting to have me fold your clothes for you, I’m afraid I’ll have to stop you right there—”

Dice laughs. The sound does strange things to Gentaro’s heartbeat. Difficult to miss while it thrums so vividly in his ears.

“No, not that.” Dice smiles. Gentaro can’t help but return it.

“But could I—uh—do one thing? Before you go?”

Gentaro can take a fairly good guess at what Dice is referring to.

He shuffles, wrist rotating the smallest bit in Dice’s hold. His grip is strong, warm, and noticeably firm. Dice hasn’t moved, not an inch from his close lean over Gentaro, but he’s suddenly all that Gentaro can see, smell, feel.

He’s trapped.

It’s invigorating.

Gentaro is somewhat proud of the light, careless hum he gets out. A flippant roll of the eyes before his gaze meets Dice’s.

“Oh fine, if you must.”

Dice laughs again. Gentaro feels that familiar swooping sensation.

“I’ve been dyin’ to do this all day.”

Despite the unaffected air Gentaro puts off, his body is already tensed up in wait. Free hand poised to the side, ready to fend off Dice’s experienced fingers. His waist, hips, stomach; they’re all compromised in this outfit, leaving him more vulnerable than even his home loungewear would allow. It’s anyone’s guess as to where Dice may strike.

Which makes it extra shocking when Dice suddenly drops Gentaro’s wrist. When he slips both hands, with a pre-planned speed, into the gaps of Gentaro’s billowing sleeves and under his outstretched arms.

Gentaro is able to clamp his lips together before Dice’s fingers make contact. It makes muffling his surprised shout marginally easier. The same can’t be said for his limbs.

Before he can even think about it, Dice has found his rhythm, spidering feather-light strokes beneath his arms. His fingertips are gentle, calloused, and so very effective in their unpredictable movements.

Gentaro’s shoulders lock up. He chokes back the bubbling wave of laughter, then clamps his arms down in attempted self-defense.

Immediately after, his spine snaps off the wall. Thrusting his torso flush against Dice, leaning in to cover him. He tosses his head back, a squeaky cry pathetically stifled as the feelings grow exponentially.

It takes all of Gentaro’s remaining brainpower to lessen the pressure of his arms against his sides, to bring his elbows a centimeter out from his waist. Because when he tries blocking Dice’s fingers—

Gentaro bites his lip against a particularly loud squeal; Dice using one finger on each hand to vibrate into the center of each hollow. Oh, please.

—when he tries to guard himself, he just pushes Dice’s fingers deeper.

“Mph! D-Dice!”

It’s debilitating. Dice rarely has access to his bare skin in most situations, but this may very well be a first for both of them. The skittering touch under his arms has Gentaro squirming, shaking. Every time his arms twitch down to stop it, he’s stuck muffling louder laughter at the added pressure he’s made for himself.

It’s all Gentaro can do to hold as still as possible; minimize the jerky, impulsive movements. But it’s so hard, and he’s quickly losing the battle with his volume as well.

What were once small, nondescript sounds are now squeaking—almost whining—noises. As Dice continues his careful track, sweeping soft fingers around and around and around each twitching hollow.

It takes Dice vocalizing aloud to get Gentaro to lift his head from the wall, blink one teary eye open and get a look at him.

Dice is smiling sweetly—no doubt a much nicer look than the hot flush and wobbly smile Gentaro’s trying to control—with his head tilted to the side. It leaves his neck and shoulder open, right at Gentaro’s head level.

He takes the invitation for what it is.

Gentaro quickly buries his face into the side of Dice’s neck. If he had the mind to think and the hindsight to see, he might have considered if this was well-meant aid or a well-sprung trap. It really depends how much credit Gentaro decides to give Dice. His scheming side is somewhat lacking.

Either way, it makes things much more manageable, and far less embarrassing when Dice’s fingertips turn to nails and Gentaro finally breaks, spilling surprised giggles into the other’s skin.

“Dihihice! What—whahat are you—ahahahaha! Wait! Th-that isn’t fahahahahahair!”

Dice had never kept his nails long before, not for so long as Gentaro has known him. He had no use for them, and it was much easier to keep clean with nails as short as can be. But he’s taken to growing them out, just a tad, for…special situations.

Situations where Gentaro is foolish, careless. Usually in the comfort of his own home, in clothes that make it too easy for Dice. To touch, caress. Warm hands over soft skin that finds another’s touch one part foreign to ten parts addictive.

Situations where the small scratch of a nail can amp the feeling of a tingle to a spark.

“Dihice, pl-plehease. I—aha! Oh no, oh pleheheHEHEHEASE!”

It’s so much easier to hide; in the warm, familiar grip of Dice’s embrace. Where he can smother his keening laughter and sudden gasps. No care in the world for his pink cheeks and ruffled hair, so embarrassingly genuine after the painstaking process of making him ‘modelesque.’

Where all he has to focus on is the rippling movement, scratching up and down the dips beneath his arms. A constant, offset graze on hypersensitive skin; gentle as can be but more than enough to drive Gentaro past the point of composure.

All too quickly, Gentaro feels his knees go weak. His back slips down the wall a fraction, hands gripping onto Dice reflexively.

Dice responds in kind, keeping him stable, then going the extra step forward. Literally.

He steps until there’s no space between them. Until Gentaro can be held up with no need for his own legs; just the cool, sturdy wall behind him and Dice’s chest against his own. He’s surrounded by Dice’s warmth, by his scent. It’s been only minutes, but Gentaro is panting for breath.

“Hey,” Dice mutters, softly, once Gentaro can focus on him. He tugs his hand free, chuckling along to the author’s stray giggle, before reaching up to cup his cheek. His thumb strokes habitually, eyes staring deep into Gentaro’s — searching. Always searching. Making sure he’s okay.

And he is. Better than okay. That’s not a lie, it can’t be, and the way Gentaro narrows his eyes, sends a challenging smirk Dice’s way — makes that abundantly clear. Dice drops his gaze, laughing to himself. Then he straightens up, thumbs the moisture from the side of Gentaro’s face.

“As I was saying…” Dice trails, locking eyes with Gentaro as he speaks. Watching the way they widen, lips pressing together, when his remaining hand flexes.

“I’m not done with you yet.”

#bee stuffs #side note I’ve never played arb #I just love their aquarium fits ✨ #tickling #tickle fic #dhfhhfhdjd I don’t wanna tAG THIS #Hypmic #Dice #Gentaro #Gendice #Daigen #ticklish!Gentaro #this may be the first FP tickle fic and that’s the only thing I can be proud about #✌🏼

[rpgsandbox]

It’s a huge and dangerous world out there, and it does not look kindly on a small mouse. But if you are very brave and very clever and just a bit  lucky, you might be able to survive. And if you survive long enough, you might even become a hero amongst mice.

This collaboration between Losing Games and Games Omnivorous will bring you the 2nd printing of the critically-acclaimed Mausritter RPG box set, as well as an entirely new Adventure Collection. You may choose to pledge for either or both.

What is Mausritter?

Mausritter is a rules-lite fantasy adventure game in which players will take take up the sword and don the whiskers of brave mouse adventurers in a huge and dangerous world.

Brutally fast, equally flavourful character creation gets you playing your mouse adventurer as quickly as possible.

Physical card-based inventory system minimises bookkeeping and maximises hard choices.

Dangerous and evocative magic system with 15 spells to find and cast.

Generous toolbox of resources provides the Game Master with plenty of support to create their own mouse-scale sandbox adventures.

Now delve into dangerous grottoes and gardens of the Estate — the all-new Adventure Collection.

                                                    [Download link]

The new rulebook is a reprint of the first-edition Rulebook with an entirely new cover design. The content of the book remains the same: fast and flavorful rules playing a brave mouse adventurer, along with carefully considered procedures and materials to help the GM run their own games. The text is unchanged, barring a few typo fixes, clarifications and other small updates.

                             First printing of the Mausritter rulebook

The new Box Set is a reprint of the first-edition Mausritter Box Set with an entirely new cover design. Inside you’ll find the updated rulebook, a GM screen, the Honey in the Rafters adventure site, a set of inventory cards with dry-erase marker, and a pad of character sheets.

Huge and ancient, a mountain of stone. It stood even when the most wizened of mouse elders were young. The Estate dominates the landscape for miles around.

Nestled under the floorboards, the mouse settlement of Brickport, is beset by trouble on every side. Above, huge creatures pace. The vicious cat lord Sabrina jealously guards her domain. Outside, in the fields and pond and orchard, even stranger events are afoot. Can you help save the settlement before it’s too late, or will it be swallowed by the chaos that surrounds it?

The collection contains ten (!) adventure sites, each by a different author & illustrator. Each adventure site highlights the distinctive style of its author, while fitting into a cohesive whole. The adventure sites can all be run as part of a campaign set around The Estate, introduced into your own setting, or run as a one-shot.

The adventure sites will be presented in a beautiful and unique premium tri-fold format, offset printed in two colors on high-quality cardstock. The adventure collection will also include a set of item cards for new treasures your brave mouse adventurers will uncover, as well as several GM tools, including a map of the campaign, and factions to drive the action forward.

Kickstarter campaign ends: Tue, August 31 2021 9:00 PM BST

Website: Losing Games

#RPG #kickstarter #Mausritter

[castielgurl]

Football is a game, Love is like a battlefield

Romanogers Week

Prompt: Enemy to lovers

Natasha Romanoff is a football player of Russian descent. Red-haired with a dreadlock style, she likes to wear piercing on her nose and hates makeup. She likes to change the color of her hair, sometimes braided or even short hair exactly like a man. She is very fierce and does not care about negative comments on her Instagram page. As a famous female soccer star, she is often the victim of attacks by male soccer fans. They said she shouldn't play football, it's better to stay in the kitchen. Just because she’s a women’s soccer player. Natasha is often involved in anti-social media bullying campaigns.

 Natasha is now at the peak of her career. She has joined the big London -born club Chelsea Woman`s FC with the highest transfer value in the market. Has won the Women's English Premier League. Won the European Cup with her country Russia. She is a midfielder who is the team captain for her club and country. Natasha has just been awarded European Player of the Year. Natasha is a person known for her assertive leader character and violent style of play. However, Natasha's life changed forever when she met her future husband.

 Steve Rogers had a bad boy image. Even so, he became a young girl’s craze pretending to know about football. Because he is a tall, lean body, six-pack, white skin, blonde hair. Every time he played football, the girls would scream like they were hysteria. Steve has of course been dating a bunch of beautiful women from models to a famous actresses.

 Like Natasha, Steve is also a world-famous football player. He represents Chelsea FC, has won the Premier League title three times. Won the Champions League with Chelsea with him as the top scorer. Steve also represented his country USA at the World Cup. He is the captain of his club and country team. Steve is a striker who is known for his fast running style and energy as strong as a bodybuilder. Steve has won World Player of the Year twice.

 Because they play at the same club. The two finally met on the training ground. The training fields for male and female players are only separated by a fence. Since the two of them have opposite characters of course disaster is about to happen.

 It all started just because of a ball. Steve was challenged by his teammates for a crossbar challenge he kicked too hard accidentally falling into the women’s training field area. The ball, unfortunately, hit right on Natasha's head. Natasha's face flushed with anger. She then shouted and ask who kicked the ball earlier. Natasha took the ball, she knew the ball did not belong to the women’s team. Natasha went across the fence to the men's field area and kicked the ball hard against the body of one of the male players. He was not in pain but the player turned around.

 “Who is the dumbass who kicked the ball? You better talk now! ” Natasha's voice was fierce.

 "Eh, why are you shouting. Are you on your period? ” The blonde man laughed cynically.

 Natasha was very angry, not that she didn't know who the player was. Steve Rogers aka football Hollywood star. But Natasha didn't care who he was.

 “Are you too stupid? Don't know how to play football? Why do you kick the ball and hit people`s heads? You want my feet to reach your face? ” Natasha insisted on fighting even though she is too tiny and Steve was six feet tall.

 Steve laughed when he heard this little woman scold him. He was not immediately intimidated by Natasha's threats. She was like a puppy that barked loudly but was too cute. This woman with dreadlock hair reminds him of rapper Snoop Dog.

 “This is a football field, what do you expect? of course, the ball flying everywhere why are you so angry? If the ball hits your face that's a good sign. At least it can fix your face” Said Steve as his friends laughed as well.

 Natasha's face grew red. Then she tries to elbow Steve's. Steve wants to fight back but his friends stop him. They said he only looked like a coward if he hit a woman. Steve assured his teammates he would not use the physical.

 "You are too rude. Do you think you're good-looking? I know guys like you, playboys, and sleep with a lot of women. But the fact is you are nothing. No one loves you. They are just riding on your success. ” Natasha stared sharply into Steve's eyes. That's when Steve slightly faded his ego. Because the green woman's eyes were so beautiful Steve admitted it. But he returned with his ego.

 "I am not afraid of you. Your body is small. I can carry you and keep you in my pocket ”said Steve with a cynical smile.

 "You start first. Why don't you just apologize? ” Natasha doesn't understand.

 "If you are still not satisfied. What do you say we play a game? Whoever wins will have the right to ask the losers to do what they want. ” Steve wanted to challenge her.

 "What game?" Natasha asked

 “We play matches with five players per team like 5-A Side. We play on the East End outdoor field boys versus girls. What do you want to say? ” Steve is sure Natasha did not back down from a challenge.

 “Well, we will meet tomorrow at 5 after training. But you have to do what I want. Don't begging when you lose later ”Natasha did not hesitate to agree. She wanted to teach this man a lesson.

 "Fine, I will see you tomorrow Snoop Dog," Steve said while laughing at Natasha's reaction.

 Natasha’s teammate asks her if she seriously wants to fight with the men’s team. Natasha is sure they can win.

 "Nat, are you sure about fighting with male players. They are not ordinary players. They have just won the European League they are World-class players. Steve is a highly-skilled player. ” Her friend Yelena tries to change Nat's mind.

 "Hey, don't be afraid, we are also the best team in Europe. Male and female players are the same. What matters is the strategy to win. We are equal with them. After all, Rogers needs to be taught a lesson. If his team loses he and his team must wear a drag queen costume. Imagine how funny that is. ”Natasha was convinced

 "I think Steve is hot. How can you talk to him, if it happens to me I will be speechless ”said Yelena who is a Rogers fan

 “Hey, don't you see that asshole? You didn't hear him call me Snoop Dog. ”Natasha cannot believe Yelena.

 Yelena continued to laugh out loud. She admits it's very funny. Yet Steve spoke the right thing. Natasha is not good at dress up. Many times Yelena wants to do a makeover with Natasha. But she rejected it because she thought the way she dressed was not important because the performance is what matters.

 “Really? You laughing. Well, his face is not bad. But on the condition that he cannot speak up. On his forehead he should be written Jerk, then people will stay away from him ”Natasha really hated Steve's sloppy mouth.

 "Nat, you have to be careful because too much hate can lead to love" Yelena teased

 "Hey you don't see us anymore we are the worst enemies from the past life"

 The next day.

 Natasha has selected five players including herself Maria, Wanda, Yelena, and Hope to represent her team. While Steve chooses Bucky, Sam, Scott, and Clint on his side.

 "You call me Snoop Dog, I also have a bad name for you" Natasha and Steve meet in the middle of the field before the match starts

 "What is it?" Steve stood with his hands on his hips

 “Barbie Kent. If your team loses you have to wear a women’s dress to the training session. You will definitely lose ”Natasha said confidently

 “Woww you are playing dirty now huh?. If your team loses you and your friends have to wash my car in a bikini ”Steve said with a smirk.

 Natasha should teach this man a lesson.

 Natasha’s team took the lead with a goal from Wanda. Steve initially wanted his friend’s not to play rough because they were girls. But after the goal, Steve told his teammates to use their full strength. After that, a lot of fouls ensued. Steve's team managed to score two goals from Steve`s. The match was not the most interesting but various incidents of fights between Steve and Natasha quarreling over various issues. Everyone was so depressed to see them both throwing hurtful words at each other. The sexual tension between them is very obvious. Before the end of the match, Natasha successfully scored an equalizer. She jumped for joy in front of Steve. Yet drama ensued when Natasha’s team asked the referee to consider a penalty when Bucky tackled Maria inside the box but was objected to by Steve. Eventually, they quarreled and everyone else was only able to see them quarrel. All the players have given up and just want to end the match. The result of the match ended in a draw. No one loses no one wins.

 “Why don't you two go in the room and just make love? Seriously that's the solution to your problem, ”Scott told them

 Their reactions were both disbelieving and showing disgusted faces thinking they were both going to have sex. Natasha definitely wants to vomit. Eventually, they returned to their respective homes feeling dissatisfied.

 Then every day Natasha bumps into Steve. Because they practice in the same building. Somehow every day will definitely come across. Natasha wanted to avoid seeing Steve's arrogant face. They will meet before entering the training ground, in the club cafe, in the gym, in the parking lot, in the elevator. Wherever they will surely meet. Every time Steve would tease Natasha he deliberately wanted to make her mad. Call her Snoopy, and ask when she will release a new rap song and so on. Of course, Natasha hates Steve’s jokes. Natasha will also ask where he is partying with the barbies.

 Steve's day was not complete if he didn't see the redhead's face every day. Natasha's face flushed when she was angry, her husky voice when she grunts, he loved hearing Natasha fight back when Steve teased her. She was a bit funny when angry, she was a little fierce but she looks cute when her face was red, she will bite her lips when she felt disgusted with the words Steve threw, it was a sexy lip for Steve. Also, her tiny size when trying to standing on her toes. Steve has met many pretty women, yet Natasha catches his eye. Natasha is not the same as other women. Honestly, Natasha is very beautiful but if she changes her appearance, surely many men will chase after her. Steve imagines she wearing a red dress with curly hair for sure he will be mesmerized. She is just as passionate about football as he is. Most of the girls he met were not interested in football. Steve searches all the information about Natasha on the internet and stalks her Instagram. His teammates knew Steve had lost his mind over the red-haired woman.

 But the question is does Natasha want to accept him? And how does he get started? The woman must have hated him so much.

 Then the football season is about to end, all the players will take a summer vacation. After that, they will join the national training camp in preparation for the World Cup. The Chelsea club hosted a Gala Night to award the club’s best players for the season. This season the club combines an awards ceremony for the men’s team and the women’s team.

 When Natasha Romanoff’s name was announced as the Women`s Player of the 2021 season she took on the stage. Steve and all his teammates were speechless as she wore a sexy red gown. Her hair was styled in a curled and she ditched her piercing. She's the most beautiful woman Steve has ever seen. Steve starts to feel jealous because all the men are focused on her. Steve doesn't like other men looking at his women.

 After Steve received the best player award for the third year he wanted to take his boots in the club boot`s storage room. But something unexpected happened Natasha was also there. Natasha thought Steve was going to make a nonsensical joke because of the dress she was wearing tonight. Natasha hates wearing it she was forced by Yelena. Yet Steve didn't say anything to her surprise.

 “Why don`t you say something, like a bad joke? Yelena picks this dress ”Natasha expected a response from Steve.

 “Why should I do that? Do you want me to fight with you until we are both old? ” Steve continued to pick up his boots on the top rack.

 Natasha came to stand behind Steve. “What is wrong with you today? This is not you. ”Natasha knew something was wrong

 “Do you know who I am? Do you really know me? ” Steve turned and stared into Natasha's eyes. Inside he wanted to drag the woman into his arms. Because she looks so pretty tonight. But he keeps his composure.

 The question startled Natasha.

 "I just don't understand why you like to fight with me. There are many more female players out there that you can choose to fight. ” Natasha still doesn't understand what Steve's intentions are.

 “You really want to know the truth. Well, I'll tell you now. Because I love to see your angry face, I love to see your red face, your lips, your staring eyes, your sexy voice, your feet when trying to stand on your toes, your style before kicking the ball. You are really cute. I like you Natasha ”Steve approached Natasha closer

 Natasha doesn't believe in Steve Rogers' words. Maybe he drank too much alcohol.

 "Actually I love you, Natasha Romanoff. All I do is to get your attention. ” Steve said as he stared into Natasha's eyes.

Then Steve grabbed Natasha's chin and kissed her lips. Natasha froze and couldn't resist the man's kiss. Then she realized and pushed him away and ran out of the room.

 When she returned home Natasha could not sleep. Her heart was pounding after being kissed by Steve Rogers. What the hell? Steve Rogers expressed his feelings to her. Natasha turned to the right and to the left trying to forget the man but in her heart, it was like in turmoil. She thought Steve hated her and she hated him too. Yet she turned out to be wrong and unable to resist his charmed. Kissed by Steve like she was struck by lightning.

 The next day Natasha and Steve meet again on the training ground. Natasha looked at Steve from a distance and waited if the man wanted to taunt her or laugh at her. But he was so different he just kept quiet and even stole Natasha's gaze when he thought Natasha wasn't looking at him. And when Steve and Natasha meet in the hallway Steve stares at Natasha's face. Like Natasha is the only person who is on his mind every day. Steve and Natasha just stood nearby and stared at each other. Their teammates bump them who were staring into each other’s eyes. Wondering what really happened between the two of them.

 A few weeks later Natasha and Steve flew to Qatar to compete in the World Cup. For the first time, the men’s team and the women’s team will compete at the same time. Natasha and Steve both focused on the biggest tournament of their careers. Natasha, who represented Russia, excelled in the competition. And her team managed to win the World Cup for the first time. But of course, attention is given to men's football. Steve Rogers stole the show by winning the golden boots award and Player of the tournament. Even though the USA only made it to the semi-finals, it was still an incredible achievement. Natasha watched the semi-finals matched in the stadium with the fans. Steve spotted the red-haired woman easily despite a hundred thousand people in the stadium. Natasha let her hair down and donned a USA jersey while cheering for his team.

 Natasha then turned around to show the jersey she was wearing with Rogers' name on the back. Steve smiled when he saw that and she giving him a flying kiss.

 After the match, Natasha and Steve met in the tunnel. Their teammates force them to acknowledge each other’s feelings.

 "I also really like you, Steve Rogers. So are we going to date now? ”Natasha asked Steve.

 "There are only two things in my mind that are football and you. You drive me crazy. Let`s date then ”Steve said while opening his both arms.

 Natasha who is only five feet three tall looks cute jumping to hug Steve Rogers who is six feet tall.

 "Even though I didn't win this match, but I won your heart," Steve said as he swings around Natasha on the air. Then they kissed in the tunnel of the football stadium. The kiss happened so passionately that they didn’t notice the photographer was taking a picture of them. The breaking news when the two big stars of world football are couple overshadow the story of the England team winning the World Cup.

 A few years later Steve Rogers and Natasha were about to get married and it became the wedding of the year as the union of the two best football stars in the world had sparked a phenomenon. All the tabloid newspapers have already started figuring out how their child will be born later because he or she is will definitely a great football player because of the DNA of both their parents.

#romanogers #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #romanogersweek #captain america #black widow #stevenat

[imagine-lcorp]

Folie à Deux (One Shot)

A/N: Hello guys!!! HAPPY HALLOWEEN AND FELIZ DIA DE MUERTOS/HAPPY DAY OF THE DEAD to all of you wonderful people. Here I come once again to share a lil one shot to celebrate this already gone spooky season but i hope you can still enjoy it. Bear with me as I try to pull some hannibal vibes over here. Let me know what you think and thank y’all for sticking around!!

Lena Luthor x Killer R//Word Count: 1,653

Content Warnings: Blood, Death, Murder, Guns, Corpses, Graphic Descriptions of Violence. 

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folie à deux. /fôˌlē ä ˈdœ/ French (n.) lit. madness for two; delusion or mental illness shared by two people in close association.

"I leave you my portrait so that you will have my presence all the days and nights that I am away from you."  — Frida Kahlo.

Lena Luthor was no stranger to fear but never in her life had she faced such terror. She could feel it in the back of her head, making her afraid of every corner and shadow of her own house. She could feel it in her chest as she forced her lungs to take steady breaths to calm the erratic beating of her heart. She could feel it in her skin, tuning her fingers cold as she gripped her gun tighter, with every careful step she took to get behind you.

"You're home earlier." Your voice, as soothing as ever, made her stop dead in her tracks.

She saw you, turning around and looking at her with attentive eyes. When you noticed the gun in her hand, you tilted your head. You smiled softly, wondering how much time was left, either before the police and her friends arrived or before she pulled the trigger on you.

"Is that for me?" You asked and, in her shock, Lena managed a small nod. "Such peculiar gifts we come bearing, don't you think?"

Your smile never faltered. She could still notice it as you turned your attention at the painting that was now installed in the central wall of her living room. She stood a few steps behind you and observed. You had just finished it, that much she could tell by the faint smell of paint fume and bright tones of the oils.

It was wonderful, like nothing you had ever showed her before. A danse macabre done with a style so characteristic of you, in which two stark white skeletons seemed to dance and embrace each other. They were surrounded by a field of blood red poppies that, upon a closer look, resembled tiny skulls amidst an equal blood-red sunset...or was it a sunrise? She would have to ask you, just like whose blood was it.

"Is that blood?" She couldn't take her eyes off the painting. Not even after the question had left her lips and her instincts screamed at her to run for her life.

"Burnt sienna and a hint of Prussian blue. Although you know I prefer the real stuff, I wouldn't want anyone to take it away from you in search of evidence." You said, enjoying your own clever remarks. "What do you think?"

"I didn't think you cared about criticism in your work." Lena replied, unable to recall a time when you had ever asked someone else's opinion about your work.

"Art, like love, is the reflection in which we can see ourselves through other's eyes. So I care when it comes to you." You turned again to look at her. "Tell me, Lena, what do you see?"

Lena looked back at you and what she saw in your eyes made her catch her breath. Madness and love, all mixed up together. A look that seemed to reach within the darkest part of her soul and, instead of trying to give it light, you marveled at it.

"You." She said taking a deep, shaky breath. "And me."

With barely a hint of hesitation, she took the last steps forward, placing herself right beside you. She looked at the painting, both a love letter and an omen of death.

"When I saw the photos of the murders, all I could see was you. From the blood paintings hanging from walls to the bodies displayed in such surreal forms. The bullets and the knives, the wounds and the cuts. You were there, in every detail."

She could remember the first time she ever saw pictures from the crime scenes and feeling as if she had been seeing photos from a gallery exhibition. Each body they had found had been displayed in the most bizarre and beautiful shapes and poses. Bones, flesh and skin, all arranged in forms she didn't know were possible for the human body. She had been horrified at first about it all but, the more she looked, she hadn't been able to deny there was certain grace and elegance in the killer's doing. Whoever had done it, she had thought, was a genius of their own morbid talent.

"Then, when they gave me the list of victims, all I could see...was myself." She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Each crime scene had come along with a list of victims too. The police had identified them with varying degrees of difficulty. Some names had been hard to find while others had been too obvious to even pretend they hadn't recognized them the moment they had seen their twisted faces. However, as different those victims seemed to be between each other, what tied them together were their own crimes. Abusive husbands and wives, child molesters, unethical practitioners, corrupt officials and political leaders with their own dark intentions. People that, even Lena recognized, no one wanted wandering on the face of earth.

Your latest victim had been the judge that had let Edge go free on bail. All her efforts to put him behind bars for good had mean nothing. Then she heard the news. His body had been displayed on his own court, hanging from the ceiling in his black robes, with a band covering his eyes. His chest had been opened and in his hand he held a pair of scales. His heart laid there, weighed against a black feather, ready to be devoured.

The real shock of the murder, however, came after a single detail was revealed. Their blood. The judge and the rest of victims had been drained of their blood before exposing their bodies.

She had never thought too much about it, because there had been nothing to think about when you told her red was one of your favorite colors. It frustrated sometimes, as a painter, how hard it was to find a shade of red as bright and vivid as that of blood. Fortunately, you had learned a long time ago how to make your own red pigments and oils, using the blood of animals, usually pigs whose death was more meaningful than their lives anyway, you had said.

"I wanted to make something beautiful out of such grotesque people." You sighed and turned your head to look at her. "Turning lead into gold with every drop of blood and every stroke, each one an offering and an amend. Is my vision so different from yours? Is yours that different from mine if we want the same?"

"I wanted justice. This is not it." She said resolute, feeling again the metal of the gun against her fingers. "This is only the aftermath of your own judgment."

"Could you say then, in your judgement, if I was fair on my own?"

"If I say you were then every crime of yours is one I have performed too."

"And I recall, you would have wanted it a few times."

Were the deaths of those men and women justified? Had their own acts been so evil that you had to pay them in kind? She remembered how bad had she wanted it sometimes, to make justice by her own hand because it seemed more reliable than a justice court. That much she could understand about your deeds and maybe that was enough for her.

"It's all the same. If there is no justice, then let it be reckoning." You looked at the gun in her hand and raised a brow. "Isn't that why you have come?"

"I have to stop you." Lena said, and you would have expected her to be quick about it. For her to raise her hand and point her gun, to pull the trigger and be done with it in a heartbeat.

But she didn't move.

"Here." You moved your hand slowly towards hers. She didn't even flinch as she watched you hold her fingers against the gun and raise her hand towards your chest. The hand of an artist, the hand of a killer. "Turn my blood into gold. Let them have their reckoning."

Still, she didn't move.

It was the moment Lena understood it all and became truly afraid. Afraid, not about pulling the trigger, not about shooting you through the heart, but to have life and death dancing on her fingertips. To choose with no remorse but with a clear conscience and blood in her hands. So easy, she had thought, to end your life and watch it vanish through your eyes.

"I can't." She said, and you felt her fingers loosen up. "I do not have your talents for this."

You took the gun and looked at it for a moment before looking back at Lena. "You do. It just takes a little practice."

In the distance, the sound of sirens filled the streets. You had been left with no more time.

"Now, come. Justice is upon us, and we don't want them to think you have been making deals with the devil."

Without another word, Lena could fathom what would follow next.

"No." She said with nostalgia already brimming in her eyes. "We have just been dancing around each other for a while."

You offered her a hand, with the other still holding the gun. "Soon the music's over, so let's give it one last chance."

Lena took your hand and, in a confident move, you spun her around. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of your body against her as you embraced her from behind. Then she felt too the barrel of the gun against her temple.

"Once I'm away, please, remember. I've only ever tried to show you beauty." Your soft breath tickled her ear as you whispered to her. "Can you see?"

When Lena opened her eyes, all she could see was red. The painting hung in front of you and it seemed to her as if you were both facing a mirror.

She felt no fear this time. "It's terrific."

#lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #lena luthor imagines #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor x you #lena x you #serial killer #killer reader #killer!reader #killer!r #content warning #cw #blood #death #mentions of death #death cw #violence #murder #slight gore #gore #gun tw #guns #gore tw #gore cw #death tw #violence cw #violence tw #blood cw #blood tw #murder cw

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

Welcome To The Pack

Summary- 6.6k  Steve x Y/N. Your on the run and know of a large protective pack to the North. Will Alpha Steve let you join? Written for @simsadventures​ 3K Challenge. Congrats Babes! After the story is the Moodboard she made to go with the challenge. Warnings- M/F masturbation

A/N- So this is something I have written on and off for years, call it a passion project of mine. The shifter wolves are written in my own personal style, not necessarily matching traditional rules of werewolves or A/B/O rules. Any lines marked <like this> are the wolves personality communicating with the human personality of the shifter. I think thats all I got to really say, feedback is welcome, just letting me know if its a yay or nay. 

The large silver wolf circled around the downed alpha, his muzzle wrinkled to show red stained canines, a warning to the alpha laying at his feet, whose ears flattened against his skull and tail tucked under to flatten against his belly, even his head was twisted to show his throat, submission. He was giving up his pack to this other wolf, this other alpha. The pack mingled around, ears perked in interest and now that the battle between the two was over, they settled down to wait. Would there be a death or banishment. 

There was a yelp and heavy growls from beyond the pack of wolves, and the victor snorted in disgust at the cries, his gaze turning towards the sound. The downed wolf tried to slide away, but was met with fangs sinking into his ruff and slamming him full force back into the bloodied earth, not having been given permission to move. A split in the pack and a smaller light colored female was herded in, snaps at her haunches leaving her spinning, trying to fight back. But she was outnumbered, and when she saw what was happening, she to dropped her belly to the ground, slithering forward. Her muzzle nuzzled against the victors neck, whining her devotion, but that just resulted in a snap to her neck and a yelp as she scuttled to the old alpha, cowering against him. She no longer had favor here, he was her last hope. 

It was Steves time to make his first decision as Alpha, release Brock and his own personal mate Alana, or would he kill them both. He had the right to, he defeated the old alpha,and his mate broke the code of bonding, with Brock of all choices. But he wasnt a killer, not when it was unnecessary. Instead of mauling the two of them with heavy snaps of his jaw like he was tempted to, he turned away and scraped dirt at the two of them, like a animal burying his waste, and shook out his ruff, shaking off the remnants of aggression that had bristled his fur. The silver toned wolf padded away, two of his pack mates broke away from the group, a equally large white wolf with a limp, and a darker mottled wolf, loping to catch up. The two disgraced were soon snapped and growled at, the remaining members of the pack chasing them down old running trails, and when the disgraced wolves crossed into no mans land, the pack paced the line, howling about there disgrace to any neighboring packs. Brock flashed his canines in anger at his old pack and nudging Alana with his long muzzle, the two sprinted off into the night.  

Couple Years Later- 

With a groan Steve covered his face at the glaring sun, and he rolled out of bed, running a hand through his hair and back over his face. Morning, always glaring yet persistent. He was a creature of habit, so he appreciated it. Stretching his arms over his head and twisting a bit till he got the satisfied pops in his back he was looking for, he got up and made his way to the bathroom, grabbing a pair of sweats on his way in. 

Few minutes later, he was going to make a cup of coffee, stirring it slowly watching the cream he had collected from the fridge swirl around in that tracing way before it melded into a soft syrup color, and he opened his door wide and stepped out onto the covered porch of his cabin, breathing in deeply. For most it would be a breath of fresh air, but for Steve, it was like the morning news. Closing his eyes to the foggy haze stretched among the towering pines before him, the scents hit him, the pack chased down a buck, its blood still a metallic tang in the air that he could taste on his tongue. Border patrol just passed a few minutes ago, Sam took the pups with him this time to start to build there stamina. Further up the mountain, they were logging again, the trees seeping sap a tang in the crisp morning air, soon it will be time to bring a truck up there to collect. And then there... it sidled all sneaking in his senses. A scent he wasnt familiar with, like wild honeysuckle and fresh ferns just unfurling in the light. An earthy scent that made the wolf in him perk up, the large beast pacing in his mind. 

<Must find Steve, does she not smell good?> In which Steve inhaled once more, trying to catch it again, his coffee abandoned on the railing, and he left a barefoot trail through the dew covered grass, his nose still seeking for that scent. 

Stop, Im trying to concentrate. The wolf kept pacing heavily in his mind, wanting to take over. Steve strengthened his resolve to not shift. There! He caught it again, and wandered from dewy grass to cold pine needles, they muffled the sound of his walking, but soon members of the pack weaved after there Alpha, and Sam moved up next to him, keeping even with Steve. “I smell her, did she cross over from the southern border.” Steve inquired Sam, which the mottled wolf growled in response, a soft yes. Howls started up, announcing they were incoming and thats when Steve picked up others streaming from among the trees, the fog still clinging to the ground shifting at the disturbance. 

Thats when he was hit with the outsiders scent for the first time. Honeysuckle and morning ferns? Oh it was more then that, it was dripping warm honeycomb plucked fresh from the hive, the sweetness of wild clover being plucked and sucked on, that fresh freezing stream that runs back of his cabin, always seemed to have a tinge of ice laced through it. Womanly.. Female. He sought out the unfamiliar wolf, and his eyes roamed over the familiar members of his pack till he saw her, lowered slightly next to Bucky, his large muzzle once in a while nudging her forward with a press to her ribs and she would skirt forward. Everything in her language showed her complying. <Ours> Steves wolf paced and started to push harder for control, pushing at the mind block Steve normally maintained, making the Alpha take a deep breath to calm his mind, big mistake as he was hit with her scent all over again, making him growl softly. 

You had arrived at this packs border just before dawn, when the morning was in that phase you could start to see shapes in the darkness, as a human. For your wolf, everything was clearly visible, and you had hit the scent. It was multiple wolves, the pack larger then most. The one you were seeking. You knew this Alpha was one of the better ones, have heard the stories of his pack thriving when others struggled. So you waited, and didnt have to wait for long when yellow eyes burned at you from nearby brush studying you. Scrambling up from where you lay, you gave a light wag of your tail, waiting for an invitation. The large white wolf stepped out, and seemed to continue studying you. Bucky, you recognized his description, mostly white, silver lacing his fur along one side, and he limped slightly. He studied you for a moment before crossing over with a leap, he brushed around you, scenting your fur with heavy huffs burying into your ruff, growling for you to drop, submit. You wouldnt be getting near the alpha if you wouldnt comply to one of his secondsl and you lowered your whole body, flashing your throat to him in submission. Another growl became an invitation to join him and Bucky loped off in his off kilter gate, and you leaped to follow, keeping just behind him. 

All the new wolves that joined you made your senses swarm, so you never scented the Alphas presence, not at first. It was when you broke from the thick trees onto a well worn path you first saw him, standing among others, and what surprised you first was he remained human to greet you. A tall man, sweat pants slung lower around the hips, shirtless, a mat of dark blonde hair swathing his chest and muscled arms folded across it, waiting. You could see he was reading you, his features all male. Beard covered jawline, dark hair brushed back from his face, and his eyes snapped open to narrow in on you, making you sink lower in respect. 

When he stepped forward, thats when he separated for the packs scent, and it hit so hard the fur along your back bristled in surprise, making Bucky growl at you in warning. But it wasnt aggression firing your reaction, and your pupils blew at the sensation. How would you describe it? Virile, Tang of pine and sharp metal, the way a fire burns blue hot and sears when you even go near it, hint of iron blood, he was alpha and even now he towered over you. Bucky gave a warning snap and you looked away, calming yourself. Steve squatted more to your level, an alpha that will come to your level? and held out his hand for you, not touching, but offering. 

“Welcome to the Compound Little Wolf, my name is Steve.” his baritone was deep, but still had a hint of lightness to it. Instead of a harsh demanding look, some of his features softened, and you took the chance, moving to a sit and pressing your nose into his palm, and he cupped around your muzzle and let his hand shift along the side of your head to dig into those long fingers into your ruff. Oh that feels good... <Yes Y/N! Hes meant to touch us> You inhaled his scent again and it washed over you, making your wolf want to rumble with pleasure, but you kept quiet for now. 

“Come on, lets go back to my cabin, and you can tell me your story.” He gave one last brush of his hand and pushed to a stand, and the pack started howling, prancing in place before they all lunged forward to race off, Bucky next to you gave a light wag of his tail and also pounced off, to reach Steve. You sat there for a minute and started to follow after Bucky, the rules here were different, you werent entirely sure how to act. Normally the Alpha would pin you, establish dominance, maybe see what it took to make you show your throat to him. Then he would decide, let you live or take it. But not this man, he never even tried. So instead you brought up the rear, the trees started to thin out more and more, turning to towering shady pines that easily Steve in his over six foot frame walked underneath, Grass started to shoot up among the needles, and soon they led you into a clearing, small cabins littering here and there along the tree line, a large structure at one end and in the middle looked like a large gathering area, a large firepitt. The two didnt pause, and continued onto a nearby cabin set off further from the rest, edging a lake. 

Steve looked down at Bucky. “Go see if you can scrounge up a outfit for our guest Buck. Probably Wanda has something she can spare.” In which the white wolf flicked a ear in response and trotted off without another look back at you, and Steve walked onto a nearby porch, grabbing a coffee cup and tossing the cold coffee into the drive, and he opened the door. “Come on in.” Steve offered and you skirted past him and into his cabin. Steve followed along behind, knowing Bucky would be along soon enough. Inside it was simply set up, wide windows ran along one wall to show the lake that the cabin was edging, along with a long deck that allowed you to go out to the deeper end. The edges of the shoreline showed deep green pines and stone grey beaches, scattering with logs. Steve set his cup in the kitchen sink and turned to watch you.

<Mark her... shes ours. Cant you feel it?> Steves wolf growled, his tail lifted and nose in the air, scenting her again. Steve didnt make the mistake dragging in air to fill his lungs after last time. Having you in this enclosed space was even more noticeable. He wondered if you were having a time like he was, thankfully his control had been honed through the years. “You can shift back whenever your ready. Bucky be back soon with some clothes. I will be out on the deck when your ready to come chat. Help yourself, theres coffee, water, beer... thats about it.” Moving to his back door, he stepped out, letting the clear air cleanse him, shaking his head and his wolf growled at him. <Why are you leaving her unmarked? Another alpha could take her. If you dont I will take her, I have no problem pining that little wolf in my bite.> Fucking hell.... dont make me muzzle you. The wolf snorted in disdain and flashed his canines in warning at his human counterpart. Remember the last mate we took? Didnt end up so well. That left him bristling remembering her, his ears flattening. <Alana is no wolf, shes was a viper in our nest.>

You waited and there was a short knock a few minutes later, and a man entered, his eyes scanning till he saw you. Gruffly he set a pile of clothes on the table, and without a word he let you to pick through, going out onto the porch, snapping the door shut. That must be Bucky, you wrinkled your nose. He was just as silent as a human as wolf. Bracing yourself for the thankfully quick process of shifting forms, you tug on the clothes, they were a size bigger then you would normally wear, but beggers cant be choosers. Running your hands through your hair, you make your way to the glass door and the packs Alpha. You also suspect Bucky was an alpha by nature as well, he was almost the same size as Steve in human form, the two of them standing with there backs to you, just about shoulder to shoulder. You cracked open the door just in time to hear a growling comment. 

“Yea, well dont let her cloud your senses, I saw the change in you.” Bucky heard the door open and looked over his shoulder, his eyes raking over you to see what you looked like, and gave a nod to Steve before walking past you to leave you two alone. Steve remained looking at the lake, but you saw his shoulders stiffen before tilting his head more towards you. You wondered if he was having an inner debate as you were about to. Your little wolf was starting to howl, wanting to give herself over already to the Alpha before her, prance and rub herself up against him, invite him to play. <Oh lets present, touch him, wrap around him.> This was gonna be harder then you anticipated. Youve never had this kind of reaction to anyone. Your hands hugged around your torso for the control. 

Steve took in the whole demeanor, the way you hugged yourself and hunched your shoulders, your eyes they looked but didnt see, unfocused. You were feeling it just as he was, and last thing he wanted to think that he was gonna manipulate you physically. “You got nothing to worry about... Whats your name?” He moved to one of the alpine chairs nearby, and sat down, one leg crossing over the other and you followed suit, perching on the edge of the seat. “Y/N, and from further south, as im sure you can tell.” 

“Yes, thats the direction I first scented you this morning.” Steve gave a smile, and when you returned one in return, both him and his wolf preened a bit. It was a fitting look from you, your features not so drawn in worry looking. The ache in his gut in how badly he wanted to tug you into his lap, the clothes, he could tell they were Wandas were just slightly to big, the shirt hanging loose, but not enough to him to get a peek at the delicate curve of your shoulder, oh how badly Steve and the wolf wanted to see it. “Why did you travel all this way, and alone? Its dangerous... “ Steve didnt want to point out the obvious. Unmated wolves, drew attention, sometimes not always the kind wanted. 

“Things, are not like this elsewhere Steve.” You started and hesitated a bit, both you and your wolf wanted to hide away, She whined in your head and curled up, her tail flicking over her face at the memory. “The alphas are selling off unmated wolves, to whoever wants them at this point. I was able to escape before I was collared at the monetary exchange.” You didnt go into details about what happened during the process, you pushed that all down to continue with your story. “Its also not in the deep south anymore, its basically on your doorstep.” Your eyes darted at him, and right now he said nothing. An L shape of his fingers pressing along his cheek and jaw, which was clenched as he heard more of what you were saying. 

Steve was well aware of what you were talking of, but never up here. This was a practice that was a barbaric practice the alphas before him had done away with. Brock initially brought it up to return it, that made Steve challenge him in the first place, among other reasons. “How far did you travel?” He asked you now, trying to figure out where the pack was you initially were from.

“2 days of steady travel once I lost the trackers coming for me. I- I honestly dont know if they will continue to track me. My Alpha, he isnt one to give up so easily.” You fold up your legs and tug your shirt over your knees, a sign to Steve of making yourself small, unnoticed. <Oh we see you Little One, you cant hide from us> The wolf in him watched closely, making sure you were safe. Your words, your tone really stirred him, rumbling in Steves mind that you might have come to any kind of harm, Steve felt his own growl roll from his chest, quickly clearing his throat when you seem to perk up at him. 

“Y/N, I dont turn any away that are in trouble, and your Ex- Alpha can try to reclaim you, but unless you decide to leave, he wont have any right to you.” This had the wolf snapping in agitation, and Steve slammed up a wall to block him out, not wanting to deal with the agitated beast. “I have a spare room, today we can show you how everything is set up, go from there. You can decide if you want to join us.” <She cant leave, shes ours. we will protect her.> Ignoring him, Steve continued. “Tomorrow is a full moon run, most the pack will be attending. Its up to you. When your ready, I will have Sam show you around.” His wolf settled down, if they couldnt show her, Sam was the best choice, mated male and his second. Sams mate would probably join them in there travels. 

You rewarded him with another soft smile, and you nodded while loosening your earlier tight grasp around your legs. “Okay Steve, I would like that... “ Again Steve softened for that look and his wolf wagged the tip of his tail. He reached over and gave you a proper shake of hands in greeting. “You got a lot of ground to cover with Sam, lets get that started.” 

Just as Steve predicted, Sams mate Sara, immediately welcomed you with open arms. “Of course we can, we will bring her back to your place afterwards.” she smiled assured at Steve and the two of you disappeared into Sams home. Steve was loathe to let you go off, his wolf even more so. <An unmated alpha will pick up her scent.> The wolf growled while Steve made his way towards the large building, Bucky stood waiting patiently with his hands in his pockets. “What did you tell her?” Bucky asked, not remarking on the agitated walk Steve had at the moment. 

“That she can stay if she wants. She was gonna be sold Buck. They almost collared her.” Steve yanked open a garage door and sighed. “And before you even start about it, yea... I noticed. Hit me like a ton of bricks okay. But im in control.” 

Bucky arched a brow and went inside, going through some keys on a side table before tossing them to Steve. “You sure? Your wolf is just gonna keep pushing until something happens.” 

Yanking open the trucks door, Steve climbed into the 18 wheeler and settled behind the wheel, waiting on Bucky. “Im sure, I cant make a mistake like I did with Alana.” He shoved keys into the ignition and it roared to life. Bucky settled back into the seat and shook his head in disagreement with Steve. 

“Man, you gotta let that go. You sure as hell didnt know and you were what... 20? You got caught up in the moment, and did what you thought was right after you bit her. The bitch had everyone fooled.” 

“I should have known Buck. That it was all hormones and no connection.” He edged the truck forward and started to go up towards the lot to collect the logs for the mill. “Im not gonna put myself, or the pack through that again. Yes, theres something... but nothing is going to come from it right this second or ever. I got to much going on now to think about taking a mate. Whos to even say she is going to stay.” 

Bucky dropped it for now, seeing that Steve wasnt going to admit to himself what was that apparent. Steve went quiet to, thinking back on his years with his ex. He sworn that they were a pair. The moment he met her, he couldnt control himself, and in his haste he marked her as his own that first night. She had been all for it, hanging off his arm for a while. Then she started showing interest in other males, when Steve confronted her about her actions, Alana always brushed it off as his wolf being aggressive, jealous. Many nights of yelling, they would get physical with one another as there wolves raged in battle with one another and after the violence leaving marks, it would turn into angry rutting sex, each trying to out do the other. Forgiveness would come after they were both beaten, exhausted. 

That was until He caught her with Brock. His hand flexed around the wheel, and turned white knuckle. The betrayal still cut. 

Once the two men arrived to the yard, they hopped out and with the rest of the team started loading the logs, making counts, and planning maintenance of the land, where they would replant, and what kind of wood they would start to grow. Since they lived much longer then typical humans, and they needed to maintain there source of income, the connection to the humans. All they knew, they were loggers living with there families in there own little community. They had a few humans employees, but none lived in The Compound. Steve was always able to dissuade them in different ways. 

They worked quickly once they got to the logging yard, and within a few hours Steve was maneuvering the truck with Bucky in the passenger seat down the mountain and to the mill, after getting the load unhooked, another trailer attached and Steve made sure they collected the check, he made his way back to the truck. “Hey, im gonna split and stay in town a bit.” Bucky said as he grabbed his jacket from the trucks cab and hopped down. Steve shrugged a bit, knowing the bachelor frequented after hours at some dames house when he wasnt doing pack duties. Steve never asked who, and Bucky never offered to tell. “Sure... see you tomorrow morning. Dont do anything I wouldnt do.” Steve said joking and Bucky smirked, giving a salute. 

“Well, I always do buddy. Dont get yourself all tongue tied up with that girl.” Whistling, Bucky turned on his heels and walked away, leaving Steve scowling to himself a bit. Starting up, he headed back to The Compound, and his wolf settled in happy. <Lets go home to our mate>

Shes not our mate. 

<Ha, she will be. I know she belongs to us. Just wait till we get hands on her, you will see how she responds.> The wolf smug as always. 

Were not doing anything of the sorts, shes here for protection from a terrible situation. 

<Yea, we will be protecting her while we put our mark on her> The wolf licked his jaws with a swipe of his tongue. 

Steve still didnt know how he could have two such personalities in him, some days he thought he would loose his mind. Soon he was pulling back in, just as night started to fall, and once he had it parked, and locked up the massive garage, he glanced at his cabin, to see it all aglow. At first he was surprised, its always been cold and dark sitting on the lakes edge, but no... this time he was actually going home to someone. 

Sam and Sara returned you a couple hours ago to the Alphas house, you were tired, it was alot to see on your first day. They had driven you on an ATV around some of the property line, it was expansive. Much larger then any territory you had been on before and could see now how Steve was able to maintain such a large pack. They also took you up the mountain to show you there operation. How they kept up there cover with the humans, and also raised funds necessary to survive. 

Once you returned, Sam assuring you that Steve would probably be back in an hour or two, you first waited on the edge of the couch, looking around the mans home. Your wolf pawing and brushing up against your minds wall, wanting to roll in his scent to get it all over. Will you stop. You chide her as you push off the couch, and start to explore a bit. First breezing over his bookshelf, and stepping through the small kitchen, to look around. Yea, you opened cupboards and drawers, looked in his fridge. Then you stepped into the hallway and started towards the three doors all begging to be peaked into. 

<He will like it, smelling us through his house, on his things, we are his after all> Your little wolf hummed happily now that you were looking around, the first door you popped open was his bathroom, small and clean. Stepping in, You popped open the shampoo bottle and inhaled. It did have a hint of his scent, masculine. You set it back down, and back out to the next door. Or maybe not? Just cause theres an attraction doesnt mean anything. 

Your wolf snorted at you <Then why you going through his stuff if you dont crave him?>

Shut up, you know how Alphas can be. Give them a little, you loose everything. Why would we want that? This time the little wolf of your mind didnt say anything to retort back, just wrinkling her muzzle in warning at your words. Next door opened and it showed a bed, dresser, lovely view of the lake. This must be your room for the night. On the end of the bed, there was some folded womens clothes and much to your surprise a large over sized tee, which when you picked it up and pressed it to your face, smelled just like him. It hit you hard, your lower gut clenching and your thighs tightened to control the throb that made you quake. Your fingers curled in the fabric, and left you panting. Dropping the shirt, your little wolfs triumph howl echoed through your mind. and with a drag of your teeth over you lips, you eyed the last door, the final door. 

Steves room.

This is where you smelled him strongest, that masculine scent of fresh pine and fire swept over you and you couldnt stop yourself from sliding inside the room. He had a large bed, it actually took up a majority of the room, and much like yours, it faced the lake. A nightstand, simple dresser and doors to a closet and attached bathroom was all that was left. Your hand runs over the quilt on the bed, and you move to a kneel on it, sitting back on your ankles as you keep getting yourself high on his scent. Your eyes close and your head tips back. A pleasured haze swirls in your mind, and your body responds in the only way it knows how. 

Your little wolf is quiet finally, and you can get lost in your mind, imaging Steves hands rough, and yet gentle on you roaming your body, his nose dragging along your neck like he cant get enough,thinking this you bite your bottom lip to make it plump. Your hand now falls between your thighs at these thoughts, and pressing against your core through the cloth, as your imagination takes a different tone. Laying your body out and his head dropping to your breast, pulling at your nipple between sharp teeth, your fingers press harder at the images in your head, making you whimper and start gyrating your hips into your palm. Soft pants rush out and then you imagine him flipping you over to your stomach, arching your ass into the air and his hot breath flushing against your neck, just behind your ear. “Your gonna be a good girl for me Little Wolf?” Calling you the same name he did this morning, and giving you that bite at the nape of your neck, where any mate would pin you down, and you cry out, as you orgasm and fall against the bed, pressing your face into his pillow. Coming down was slow, you were now on edge and ashamed of your actions. 

Not your wolf though, she was purring and stretching at the satisfying feeling buzzing through you <Just imagine how much better it will be with your Alpha> Your quickly rolling off the bed, and making sure its all straightened out. Your wolf huffs out <Hes gonna smell you in here you know...> You ignore her and rush out, deciding that maybe the best thing to do is just act like you hadnt invaded his private space, and maybe turned yourself on just a bit to much. Dinner... Dinner is a good idea. Lets make him dinner to thank him. With a rush you leave his room, making sure the door is closed behind you and make your way into the kitchen. 

Quick inspection of his fridge proved two things, he was a beer man, as well as a liquor man from the contents on top of the fridge. He also liked to eat. There was an array of food, but what really caught your eye was some steaks he had wrapped in wax paper. Taking them out, you let them sit on the counter, and start making the a salad and toast off some garlic bread. Digging out a cast iron, you drop butter and some dried herbs in the pan. Outside it had turned dark, you flicking on a overhead light and you saw Steve had a small radio up on the kitchen counter. Simply hitting on, the music of an old rock station started to play, and you let yourself just enjoy that moment, forgetting you were a hunted unmated wolf, that this was an Alphas house you didnt know, and yet you felt perfectly at home in. No, right now it was just something as simple as pan frying steaks and making sure you didnt burn the damn bread. 

Coming up the steps, Steve wondered if he should knock on his own door to let you know he was coming, the music drifting to him made him grin, and your shadow flickered through the light falling through the window. <Look at our mate, making herself right to home> His wolf observed. Yes, she does seem to be comfortable in our place... His wolf simply growled with content, still sure that the female on the other side was his. Steve did happen to knock, and letting himself in. You hadnt noticed though as you stood at the stove, swaying your hips one way, your head the opposite and you sang right along

“Pour some sugar on me

C'mon, fire me up

Pour your sugar on me

I can't get enough

I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah...” This is where you had picked up the beat, arching a bit to your toes, and lifting the fork to your lips to mimic singing in a microphone. Fuck shes damn cute... <Cute? Shes perfect>

Steve cleared his throat loudly, and was grinning while leaning against one of the counters, watching as you swung around with a fork in hand, wide eyed in surprise. Red laced up your neck and into your cheeks, flinching as if you had displeased him, making you stutter a bit to answer and he interrupts you. “It smells really good Y/N, you certainly didnt have to do this, but thank you.” He gave nothing more then a warm smile, and you returned it, relaxing when you saw he wasnt upset with you. 

“It was the least I could do for everything.” You return to the stove and flip the steaks, keeping them on the rare side, you plated them, and set them aside. 

Why in the hell would she think I would be upset about her cooking? Steves mind raced, and his wolf rumbled in anger. <Because someone has probably beat her before.>

“Im just gonna go jump in the shower quickly. Wanna eat out on the deck? Its a nice evening out.” After you nodded in agreement, he turned away, heading towards his bedroom. It surprised Steve how right this felt, it was never this way with Alana in the years they were mated together. Usually when he returned home from a day away, she was either demanding sex from him, or was restless, whining, pacing complaining about being left alone. Steve tried to alleviate her discomfort by trying to balance pack life and his mate, but it never seemed to be enough. This though... there was no tension to him coming home to this female. Even his wolf was calm and settled, just soft brushes in his mind cause he knew she was in the kitchen, and seemed content. Stepping into his bedroom, it hit him full force. 

There was no hiding the growl that ripped from him scenting you in his space. HIs eyes flashed yellow as his hold just about wrenched his door handle off before he released it, allowing the door to swing shut. Fuck if it wasnt the best thing he ever scented, even more then this mornings encounter. Couldnt drag it in enough, heavy huffs as he searched it out, and there, it was strongest on the bed, making him hard at the remnants of your scented arousal. It made him a bit high, and he didnt even realize the low possessive rumbles rolling from him as every nerve along his body strained, partially to go claim you as his. Even his wolf’s fur stood on end, his muzzle lifted in the air, howling for his mate. 

Still in a high, as he laid on the bed and just let himself get under control at the raging wolf in his mind, and his own bodies reaction. “Fucking hell” he cursed as his need ripped a fire through him. When it wasnt going away, he ripped off his clothes while getting up, grabbing a clean pair of jeans and a tee. Stepping in the shower and flipping the water to ice fucking cold, he let the cold water cascade of his shoulders and back. Yet that fire still wasnt going anywhere, it was simmering just as hotly in his lower gut, his erection still pressing against his lower stomach although it felt like ice was pelting him. Giving in to his needs, he wrapped a hand around his erection and started to jerk himself off, letting himself imagine you were with him in the shower, your hands rubbing his cock, while your wide eyes looked up at you, your lips full, beaded with droplets of water that your tongue would flick off. 

The image alone made him jerk faster, bringing himself closer. Picturing your hands sweeping over his chest, nails lightly scratching, soft nips traveling down his body, and your sinking to your knees. Steve fell forward in his ice shower, his hand bracing against the wall, his head dropped forward, and picturing you lowering to your knees before him in his mind, well that sent him over, and heavy ropes of cum sprayed against the shower wall, and he took ragged breaths, just waiting to return back from his unsatisfactory orgasm. Giving himself a light shake to dispel the energy rippling through him, he grabbed his soap and shampoo, making quick work of cleaning himself off. Stepping out, a whisk of a towel of his body and through his hair, he got dressed, sure to be quick going through his room so he wasnt caught up again. 

Coming back out, Steve didnt see you in the kitchen, but there was a soft candle glow outside and you had made you had the food set on the table outside, but you still werent anywhere to be seen. Stepping out onto the deck himself, he leaned against the railing watching you when he finally caught sight of you. The moon, not quite full was silhouetted against your form at the end of the dock, outlining all your curved features, you seem to be studying the water, your foot dipping in before you pull it back out. Then to his surprise you arched your back, hands raised over your head and jumped into the water, diving into the darkness out of sight. 

Steves wolf was howling to you when you disappeared from sight, welcoming you to The Pack. The man let himself get caught in it, tipping his head back and his deep baritone lifted in the barely there night sky, echoing over the lake and behind him, answering calls filled the woods with the cries of pack mates. Lilting in different tones, the pack howl echoing to travel further then usual till all wolves in neighboring territories to there land would pause in hesitation, ears perked and exchanging looks, they to would answer back, establishing there strength against the wolves of the mountain. Two outsiders skirted in the no mans land, the strips of land between borders that was meant to keep wolves from crossing into another, noses to the ground. Following the sweet honeyed unmated scent of the runaway female. They to heard the massive cry, pausing to flick ears back and forth, and promptly, they turned in sync, racing towards the sound, swift and silent in there travels. 

Moodboard Inspiration By Sims 

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