#I hope I’m not shadow banned or something

[adrift-in-thyme]

WHY IS TUMBLR NOT SHOWING ME YOUR FICS >:(

- hero-of-the-wolf

Oh no it’s hiding them from you?? Man ��

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds (3)

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Azriel's POV (it's a warning here), angst

a/n: I am blown away by all of you and your support!! I really love writing for this fandom omg. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy ♡ Let me know what you think!! I'll get the next update up soon!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

~~

Azriel was losing his ever-loving mind. 

A few weeks ago, everything was fine. Not optimal, but fine. 

He knew his mate, and that was more than could be said for most of Prythian. But even more than that, he could love her from afar. He could make small remarks and catch the smiles they would elicit. He could send his shadows after her on her walks home, protecting her even though she had the entire Inner Circle looking out for her wellbeing. He could buy the ridiculously expensive pastries she loved and stock the kitchens with them, listening for the small gasps she let out each time she found them.

He could talk to you, listen to you, love you in his small ways, even if it wasn’t the ways in which he longed for. 

Because it wasn’t the right time yet. You hadn’t felt the bond for yourself. 

So, yes—admittedly, Azriel had not been in the most optimal position with you. But it was leaps and bounds better than the purgatory you were subjecting him to now. 

He mulled over his current reality as he sat opposite to you at the dining table. He had had to snag the seat from Mor, ripping the chair from her hand in an uncharacteristic show of aggression, and you hadn’t so much as looked up from your plate. He would’ve rather fought for the seats beside you, but Rhys and Cassian had been sitting before he even entered the room. So now he fought for your eyes and was too far away to offer any lingering, accidental touches. 

Not that you would reciprocate either. 

You were avoiding him, and Azriel was at his wit's end trying to decipher why. 

His shadows had relayed dismal reports, only whispering the words sad and alone and contemplative into his ears each morning. He could have guessed as much, if the display of emotions he had tried to comfort you through all those days ago told him anything. 

But Gods, did they really tell him nothing, because you hadn’t spoken to him since. 

“—that is certainly something to consider. Y/n, would you be open to the job?” 

“Hm?” you hummed, and Azriel watched as your eyes flickered over to Rhys in one abrupt movement. “Sorry, what?” 

Rhys raised a brow lined with humor, and Azriel realized he hadn’t been listening to the conversation either. “Helion has extended an invitation to the Night Court—for diplomatic relations and all. It’s mostly a weekend stay for show, but he has quite an extensive library. Feyre and I went last time so it would only be fair if—” 

“Yes,” you nodded, the most emotion Azriel had seen on your face in days blooming into a joyous array. “Of course, I would love to go. Are you kidding?” 

Rhys chuckled. “I figured. Helion has been quite eager to get you to come as well. Seemed like the perfect time.” 

Azriel didn’t miss the way the High Lord’s eyes shone with something other than mirth as he looked closer at the scholar… as he inspected your facade the same way Azriel had been for the past week. 

“When can I leave?” 

Something in Azriel scratched to a halt. “She’s to go alone?” 

Feyre offered the spymaster a soft smile from the other side of the table. “If she wishes. Helion’s invitation was open-ended.” 

“Take the vacation, I say,” Mor piped in, wine glass raised in a solitary toast. 

“Or… you could take me,” Cassian grinned beside you, jostling you in a playful grip. 

You sent a scoff his way. “Aren’t you banned?” 

“No, actually. I’m banned from Summer Court, which is completely unrelated.” 

A short laugh trickled from your lips. It wasn’t a full one, not like the ones Azriel was so used to—the ones he basked in—but it was a laugh, nonetheless.

He felt the way his eyes seemed to follow the crescendo of it, his blinks in time with the sweet sound. 

He committed it to memory. 

“Right, well let’s keep you away from neighboring courts as much as possible so we can avoid a repeat of that, okay?” 

Something like a grin fought at the side of Azriel’s mouth at your quip. 

Cassian prattled on. Something about unjust rules or ridiculous high lords—Azriel wasn’t paying attention. He was too caught up in you and the way you were so close to meeting his gaze. 

“Perhaps she shouldn’t go alone,” Azriel spoke up, interrupting his brother’s spiel. You still didn’t look at him, instead turning to catch Rhys’s response. 

“Azriel, I can assure you this is a safe visit,” Rhys offered. He knew. Everyone seemed to know but you. “It’s hardly even business. It’s more of a vacation. I’ve been shoving century-old relics in her face for the past few months. She deserves time to herself, don’t you think?” 

His High Lord was speaking in code. A terrible, frustrating code that really meant, “give her some distance.” 

Azriel had had enough of distance. 

He nodded his head all the same. 

And then, despite all odds, you looked at him. 

You looked at him and it was as if the air had been knocked from his lungs. As if he had been wrung out and stretched thin and every bone in his body forced him to sit up straighter. You were looking at him and Azriel couldn’t conceptualize the way the spectrum in his chest moved so quickly from utter relief to the brink of desolation. 

Because you looked at him as if you were broken. A sad—such a sad—smile graced your face, one he had never had the displeasure of seeing before, and he wanted to wipe it away. He wanted to kiss it from your face with soft touches and reassuring whispers and that was startling for Azriel because he usually kept his overwhelming urge to kiss you at bay. 

“I’ll bring you back a souvenir,” is all you said. Such simple words to accompany an expression that sent him reeling. 

“Thank you,” he replied, with the most sincerity he could muster. 

And then he held your gaze as it became downcast. He craned his neck to catch every last second of your eyes as they turned back down to the table.

It was hours later that Azriel found himself in the townhouse, boots creating an indent in the office carpet. Rhys sat just feet away from him, leaning back against the desk, waiting for the Shadowsinger to erupt. 

“I would like for you to position your spies further into Autumn. I know you have a few that have integrated into the court, but I need more intel on Eris and his plans.” 

“Of course.” 

“You can take out any currently residing in Day. Just for the next week or so. With y/n going, she can report any happenings.” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw jumped. “Would that be wise?” 

Rhys stared back at his brother, expression giving nothing away. “Why wouldn’t it be? Do you not trust y/n’s word?” 

Azriel’s wings were taut against his back. In truth, he hadn’t felt relaxed in days. With you leaving, that tension would surely pull him into thin compliance. 

“Obviously I trust her word, Rhysand.” 

“Rhysand? What have I done to earn your grievance?” the High Lord asked, crossing his arms over his chest, still the perfect picture of calm. 

Azriel was a juxtaposition before him as he clenched his hands and replied, “You already know.” 

“Do I know? I’m not sure you’ve been clear or honest with anyone. Y/n especially.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

Rhys bent at the elbow and rubbed a restless hand across his jaw. Azriel ignored the movement in favor of holding eye contact with the High Lord. Azriel was being stubborn, he knew that, but there was no other way to be. 

He needed to be consistent and reliable. He needed to be a pillar for his family to lean on, and you were part of that. He wasn’t going to take that away from you—to be selfish and call upon a mating bond you hadn't even been made aware of yet. 

He wasn’t going to squander your friendship in the hopes of something more. 

There was a chance, no matter how much the prospect pained him to consider, that you wouldn’t want the bond. You had never hinted at wanting more with the spymaster, so there was no telling how you might react to the cauldron blessing you with a union. You could reject it, and with it would go your friendship. 

Just the thought sent ice through Azriel’s veins. 

Truth be told, he had never shown you many signs either. When the bond snapped months ago, it had taken time for Azriel to come to terms with the truth. He had ruminated on it amidst many sleepless nights, watched you from a new perspective over many dinners, and contemplated the path that had led him to you. 

And then he had regretted. Cauldron had he regretted. 

The feeling still lingered, a reminder of each woman he had taken to his bed before you. All of the fae that had meant nothing, and even the ones that had boarded on something, he wished he could do away with.

Because you had been privy to them all. He knew you had witnessed a few late-night trysts, and even worse, that you had watched him pine after Mor for a century. It all seemed so frivolous now; it all paled in comparison to you. 

And the absolute worst part of it all is that he knew. 

He knew how easy it would be to fall in love with you from the start, so he pretended not to notice. 

He threw himself into impractical longing and meaningless lovers and he pretended that it didn’t hurt to look at you. 

The bond had only cemented his foolishness. 

He hardly had a chance with you by the time it snapped. 

“Late night then, Az?” 

You had teased him over breakfast just days before the bond had snapped for him, a small smile on your face as you lounged at the table early in the morning. At the time, Azriel had bit the inside of his cheek and reeled in his snarkiness. He had avoided your gaze, avoided the robe that barely covered your nightgown, and made himself toast in silence. He had already coaxed the blonde fae out of his bed, and he hadn’t needed a reminder of the woman he had been imagining all throughout the night. 

Because that had been something else he opted to ignore—that he pictured you, imagined you, at all times. 

It snapped three days later. He had been accompanying you through Velaris. “Shopping for fun,” you had said, “and I hate to go alone.”

The only thing Azriel had taken home that day was a gaping hole in his chest and the knowledge that lying to himself had brought him nothing but pain. 

The months following were different. 

Everything was different. 

But for you, he had come to the grim realization, nothing was different at all. He was still Azriel, your friend Azriel, who was secretive and private and cared from afar. You still pictured him as a man who chose his lovers based on convenience and quick practicality even though he hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since your emotions began flowing through his chest. 

Gods, your emotions. They were so positive, so addicting, he could sit back and live his days through you until the end of time. You had so much unrestricted joy coursing through you—so much curiosity and delight. Part of Azriel dreaded the day you did recognize the bond; it would dim the connection to you.

That day in the library had been the first time the bond had chafed against his lungs. He had felt the earthquake beneath his feet and thought nothing of it, but then your fear punctured his being and he had run so fast his wings ached. 

And then you started having nightmares, ones he couldn’t fix, and Azriel began to feel like he was losing you. Like the bond was withering and eroding within him and you along with it. 

“How long, Azriel?” Rhys’s voice cut through the air with a harshness. 

The shadowsinger breathed through his nose, jaw tight. 

“Tell me. Tell me how long you’re going to keep this up for.” 

“You don’t understand, Rhys,” came Azriel’s low reply. “None of you do.” 

The High Lord scoffed. “Right, because I had it so easy with Feyre. Az, mates are complicated—” 

“Don’t,” Azriel breathed. A dangerous shakiness accompanied the word.

“Explain it to me. Help me to understand how—” 

“There was nothing for you to lose!” The rise of the shadowsinger’s voice sent Rhys into silence. “There was nothing! You hadn’t known Feyre for three centuries—hadn’t known what it was like to see her cry over worthless males or laugh until she was doubled over. You didn’t have time to memorize the sound of her voice or understand how it felt to lose that small piece of her. Because she won’t even talk to me anymore and—” 

Azriel cut himself off, moving for the first time since he entered office. He paced, the motion of his feet doing little to dispel the tension from the air or from his body. Azriel tugged a hand through his hair, his shadows following the aggressive pull and weaving through the strands. 

“How long?” Rhys asked again, but this time, Azriel knew that he was asking a different question. One that even he himself had avoided answering. 

The shadowsinger paused. His next words were tainted and his voice cracked. 

“I think forever.”

Part 4

[nuttersincorporated]

Tumblr: A Beginners Guide

Hello and welcome to Tumblr!

If you're new here, this post is a little guide meant to help you understand how things work on Tumblr. I’m going to give you some guidelines and explain a little bit about Tumblr culture. Hopefully, this will help you settle in, avoid unnecessary pitfalls and enjoy your time here. I hope you’ll like it here on our hellsite (affectionate).

1. First and most importantly, please change your userpic and put something on your blog.

If you don’t, other users will think you're a bot and you'll be reported/blocked. It’s nothing personal but we are at war with the bot accounts. Most older users will automatically assume that a blank blog= bot.

You don’t need to do much. If you aren’t comfortable rebloging things or making your own posts yet, just change your userpic and add a short description to your blog.

Here’s an example of a description you can use.

‘Hi! I’m new here. I’m still working out how this place works but I promise I’m not a bot so please don’t block me.’

2. Go to your settings, then to your dashboard settings and change things to how you like them. I suggest-

Make Tumber show you posts in chronologically order, rather than pushing ‘best stuff first’

Pick a colour palate that doesn’t give you a headache

Make Tumblr show timestamps on posts and reblogs. While a post is never too old to reblog, you don’t want to accidentally signal boost something as ‘news’ when it's acutely years out of date and no longer relevant.

Choose not to shorten long posts

3. Go to the top of your dashboard, press on the toggle and arrange things how you like them.

I suggest pinning your ‘Following’ first. It means that when you go to your dashboard, the first thing you’ll see are the blogs that you’ve actively chosen to follow.

Some older users will tell you that the ‘For You’ page is useless and should be ignore. This is because for a long time it was either non-existent or terrible so most older users – myself included – just don’t bother with it.

However, nowadays it’s fine so use it if you want. ‘Following’ should still probably be pinned first though because you know what you like better than the algorithm.

4. Please don’t censor your words here. Tumblr doesn’t shadow ban you for saying random words.

Shadow banning does happen but it’s mostly at random or because you were targeted by trolls. If it happens to you, you’ll need to fight to get unshadow banned.

The point is that you won’t get shadow banned for saying ‘death,’ ‘murder’ or ‘rape.’ Don’t do things like saying ‘graped’ instead of ‘raped.’ If you do, you’re just going to piss people off and make it harder for people to avoid triggers.

5. Don’t spam the tags!

You can ramble in the tags all you want and nobody will mind. However, if you tag an unrelated post with a popular tag, you will be reported for spamming. It’s against the Tumblr terms and conditions, it’s annoying and it’s something the porn bots do.

When you are making your own post, the tags you use should be to help other people find your post. When you are rebloging other people’s posts, the tags you use should be so you can find that post again if you want.

The other thing that tags are for – both in your own posts and reblogs – is for adding things that don’t really fit in the post itself but you still wanted to say. You can add paragraphs in your tags and no one will bat an eye but if you tag a post with a trending but unrelated tag, that’s spamming.

6. Please, reblog things. It helps posts spread a lot more than liking them does. Think of your blog as a scrap book where you put stuff you like.

If you aren’t comfortable adding to a post, that’s fine. Just reblog it and share it with others.

7. That said, Tumblr posts are collaborative and we like it when you add to them. It doesn’t have to be much. You don’t have to add something every time you reblog a post but it is a part of the fun to do it sometimes.

If it’s an art or fanfic post comments like; ‘good post op,’ ‘I LOVE THIS!’ or even ‘OUCH my heart!!!’ will make an OP’s day.

If it’s another sort of post; you can add your thoughts or join in on committing to the bit. Try matching the energy the post is already giving.

If you aren’t comfortable commenting directly, you can always put it in the tags.

8. The follow and block buttons are your friend. You decide what you see here. If your dashboard doesn’t spark joy, you can always follow someone new and/or follow an interesting tag. If someone is making your time here unpleasant unfollow and/or block them.

9. Tumblr likes to commit to the bit. Sharks are smooth (they are not) and the 1973 Martin Scorsese movie ‘Goncharov’ is the greatest film ever made (it doesn’t exist).

10. A post is never too old to reblog. We like old posts here.

Every now and again, you will see a post that is over ten years old. The reblogs will probably be full of people expressing delight about seeing the original post again or seeing it for the first time.

11. You don’t want to be Tumblr famous.

There are niche blogs that are dedicated to one thing and are well liked e.g. @the-haiku-bot (the one bot we love), @writing-prompt-s and @cantheykillmacbeth. However, they are either side blogs or blogs run by multiple people.

Your main blog should just be somewhere you like to spend your time. There are no benefits to being Tumblr famous on your main blog.

12. Tumblr spreads news with this meme

13. Tumblr loves dates. Whether it’s the Ides of March (it sure would be a shame if certain world leaders got stabbed), Halloween (which we start celebrating in about July) or just a random day of the week e.g. ‘Out of Touch Thursday’ there is always something happening that you can celebrate.

14. The staff always pulls a silly and harmless prank on Apil Fools Day. Last year we got to boop each other.

15. We like a silly poll

Okay, I think that’s the basics covered. You’ll get the hang of everything else as you go along.

I hope you have fun here and that you manage to avoid Apollo’s dodgeball of prophecy (try not to joke about a specific way things could get worse or you might be hit).

Yours faithfully,

A Tumblr Cockroach

PS If you are a Tumblr oldie, please feel free to reblog this to help out newer users.

[shadowandlightt]

Of Nightmares and Memories | Eleven | Azriel x Rhys' little sister! Reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten

Shadows dance around you as you stand in the hall of the townhouse. You hadn’t stepped foot inside of it before. Hardly even paid any attention to it when you were little. You were sure Rhys had to have updated the interior. Because the townhouses on this block were nice, sure, but not nearly as cozy as this one seemed. 

Outside, the city was buzzing with life. So much so that it made you want to shrink away even further. Run to the mountains again, lock yourself away in the house of wind. Cassian and Azriel both resided there….you wouldn’t be alone. But you couldn’t face leaving Rhys, even if he had Feyre to worry about. 

First taking her to the prison, then taking her to the Weaver. He had to be insane. He wouldn’t clue you in on what was happening in the world, but you knew something had to be going on. He made mention of feeling safer once you were in Valaris, so quietly that you almost didn’t hear him. But you did hear him. And you would press him on it later. But now you needed to find your own footing again. 

“He had the twins set up a room for you,” Azriel said softly, hand gently resting on your shoulder, “No one can get in this house without permission, Rhys saw to that. And that includes me and Cass.” 

“Cassian,” You breathed out, suddenly remembering the man who was once like a second brother to you, “Where is he?” 

You spin around to face Az, and the door. There’s a look of surprise on Az’s face. The last time you saw Cassian, you’d punched him hard enough to break his nose. You had gotten into an awful fight with one another, that didn’t end until his blood was dripping on the floor. You remembered feeling a sense of satisfaction at the sight of him bleeding everywhere. 

“Sulking,” Az’s lips turned up slightly, “He wanted to go to summer, but he’s since been banned from the court for destroying a building or two.”

“He what?” You questioned, eyes darting back to meet his. 

“Story for another time.”

“Can you bring him here?” You question, not ready to fly at all, let alone to the House of Wind. 

“Why don’t we fly to him?” Az rose his eyebrows in a question. 

You shook your head, backing away from him just a step, “I don’t want to fly.” 

You didn’t want to summon your wings, something you hadn’t done since the day you were taken. You hadn’t allowed yourself that one pleasure, not when your mother’s wings were so cruelly cleaved from her body. Not when you had two long, thick, scars running down the length of your back from where Tamlin’s brothers cut into your flesh, thinking somehow they’d bring out the wings that were once there. 

“You don’t want to fly?” He questioned slowly, “You love to fly.” 

Your head shakes again as he tucks his wings impossibly tighter to his body, as if he was trying to hide them amongst the shadows that dwelled there. He didn’t know in full what happened to you, or at least you hoped he didn’t. You hoped his shadows hadn’t reported to him as it happened, only adding to the chaos of him trying to reach you in time. 

But by the time he made it to that clearing all that was left was two bodies hacked into pieces, one of your mother and one of your maid that accompanied you everywhere, and more blood than should have been possible. You could remember the way the grass was coated with it, soaking into the earth below. You wondered if it left a stain on that land. 

“Come back to me,” Az whispered, stepping towards you, “Leave all of that behind, and come back to me.”

“I’m right here, Az.” 

“Are you though?” He questioned softly, “Because I’m not so sure you are.”

You shiver with the memories that keep flooding your head. The sound of his voice as he begged you to be strong, that he would be there soon. 

Breathe, you had to remind yourself. Breathe, you’re free again. You’re home in Valaris, you’re with Azriel, and he would never let anything bad happen to you as long as you’re with him. You knew that in your very bones. But it didn’t make this any easier. 

Little Star?

Rhys’ voice made you jump, forgetting for a moment that you could still speak to one another. It seemed strange having him in your head after so long apart, you hadn’t even noticed the feeling of his mental claws gently stroking your mind. 

I’m okay. I promise Rhys. 

Az doesn’t seem to think so.

You roll your eyes, fighting the urge to send a vulgar gesture down the line back to Rhys. Instead you flopped down in a near by chair. 

Az needs to mind his own business for once. 

Go flying with him. Please.

Go tell Feyre she’s your mate, dear brother, and I’ll think about it. 

He retracted from your mind with that. The feeling of him being gone left you feeling utterly empty. You’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone else in your mind, how full you felt. Full of life, full of thought. Full of emotion and oftentimes joy. 

“Don’t rat me out to my brother,” You grumble at Azriel. 

“I’m just worried,” He admits, stepping to sit on the edge of the chair across from you. 

“You have no reason to worry,” You try to convince him, acting as if you’re brushing off some dirt from your shoulder. 

“I think I have every reason,” He said so softly you almost didn’t hear him, “Why won’t you come flying with me?” 

You shake your head again, “If you witnessed what I did that day, you wouldn't want to fly either.”

Her screams echoed in your ears. Terror ripped through your bones again, no matter how hard you tried to fight it. You remind yourself again and again that you’re safe, and free, and home. Because this place felt more like a home than the House of Wind ever did.  

“You weren’t there, you couldn’t understand,” You told him quietly. 

“Don’t remind me that I failed you, Y/N.”

“You didn’t fail me.”

“I didn’t make it to you in time,” He replies, “I failed you in that way, and in every way after for the last few hundred years. I gave up on you.”

“Everyone did,” You simply shrugged, “I even gave up. I don’t blame you for what happened that day.”

The sound of mighty wings cut off any reply that Azriel could have, before the door was being shoved open and Cassian came quite literally running inside. His hair was half up in a messy bun, dripping with sweat. His shirt was haphazardly thrown on, like he’d been in the throws of training when someone, probably Rhys, told him to get his ass down to the townhouse. He looked around, chest heaving with every breath. He wasn’t out of shape, no he was far from that. But you’d watched him train before, you knew how hard he worked. And you could imagine he was panicked, just by the look on his face. 

He dropped the broadsword he held in his hand, staggering forward a few steps. You gently stood, not wanting to spook him. But he already looked as if he’d seen a ghost, and maybe he had. Because you certainly felt like a ghost of who you’d once been. A ghost of the person that used to laugh alongside Cassian at everything. 

“Y/N?” His voice broke, “Brother, what kind of trick is this?” He turned his full attention to Azirel, demanding answers. 

Azriel said nothing though, only inclining his head towards you. A silent confirmation. Tears filled the general’s eyes as he looked you over, trying to reconcile the girl he once knew when the women standing before him. 

Your own eyes glossed over as you watched him. He shook slightly, so slightly it could’ve been missed, if you weren't paying so close attention to him. He surged forward, so quickly he was nothing more than a blur of dark hair and wings as he scooped you up in his arms, pulling you from the ground. He held you as tightly as he possibly could, sobs leaving his body. You couldn’t stop your own sobs as they shook your whole body. Clutching onto him, you breathed in his scent. Something distinctly Cassian and the smell of sweat. Truthfully, he reeked and needed a bath. 

“How are you alive?” He cried, not so discreetly, “We helped Rhys bury your body.” 

“No, you didn’t. That’s what they wanted you to think,” You try to explain, “It was Michaa that you buried.” 

“But-” 

“Don’t grill her on this, Cass,” Azriel warned, finally speaking. 

Cassian set you down and held you at arm’s length, finally really looking you over. You’d grown taller since the last time he saw you. He assumed in another life, you would've been fuller too, but you still looked gaunt even after a while away from the spring court. Your hair was longer and darker, much like Rhys’. Your eyes weren’t as bright as they once were, but the light was slowly coming back to them. You were slowly coming back to life. 

“I missed you, Cassi,” You sniffed, knowing how much he hated that nickname when you were children. But you couldn’t say Cassian when you first met him. 

“Cauldron boil me,” He groans out, using the back of his hand to wipe at his eyes, “I never thought I’d hear you call me that again.”

“I need a drink,” He says suddenly, making his way into the kitchen, “Az?” 

“Pour me one too.” Az nods his head, sinking into the chair once more. 

He looked older, and yet just as young as you’d seen him the last time. But with the way he held himself, you could tell that he’d seen many horrors in the hundreds of years that you’d been gone. He’d dealt with too much. 

“Me too,” You agree, sinking into your own chair, feeling the weight pulling you down. 

“You aren’t old enough,” Was Cassian’s quick response. 

You raise an eyebrow at him in challenge, “I’m old enough to fuck, therefore I’m old enough to drink.” 

Both males cringe, eyes going wide, wings flaring. You groan out, realizing what you’d just said. You were sure Rhys had figured it out already, why you smelled so much like Lucien when he saw you on Firenight. Why you still smelled faintly like the male.

“I’ll get it myself,” You push yourself up again and push past Cassian, “Territorial male bastards.” 

Both males follow you into the kitchen as you grab for the decanter tucked on the corner of the counter. The room feels almost too small with both of them and their wings closing in on you. You felt trapped again. 

“Who,exactly, were you fucking?” Azriel asked with cold precision. 

“None of your business, Shadowsinger.” You snap back, downing the knuckles’ worth of alcohol. 

Shadows swirl angrily around you. Some listening to Az, some listening to you. The fought one another, colliding in the middle of the kitchen in a black patch. Cassian’s wings were flared wide muscles tensing. 

“You know I can find out,” Az warns. 

“Can you?” You question, “Because you didn’t even know I was alive for the past few hundred years. How are you supposed to find out anything when you couldn’t even do that?” 

You could physically see the moment the words settled down in him. He jerked back as if you’d hit him, wings suddenly snapping in tight to his body. Even Cassian took a step back. You swallowed, feeling bad for throwing that back in his face. You tried to step towards him, but he only backed out of the doorway and made for the front entrance, slamming the door behind him. You heard the beat of wings a moment later. 

“That was a low blow,” Cass warned you, “Even for you, Y/N.” 

Even for you…because you used to fight with Cass and Rhys, viciously, but never with Az. You never felt the need to fight with him, because he was always on your side. He always seemed to understand you. He knew how far to push you. You, however, pushed him too far this time. 

You could feel yourself sink. Head hung low as you looked at the glass in your hands. You didn’t know how to be around people anymore. It seemed odd, being free again. Being back with your family, even though Rhys and Amren were gone in Summer with Feyre. You longed for Mor, who seemed to have made herself scarce, knowing you’d need time to sort out yourself. You wished she wouldn’t have left you alone with the boys though. You were making a complete mess out of everything.

“ Cass, I-” 

“Don’t apologize to me,” He shook his head, “Find Az and apologize to him. He beat himself up for centuries for not making it to you in time. I seem to think he’ll blame himself until the day he dies.” 

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” You admit to him, so softly you aren’t sure if he hears. 

He’s quiet for a time, so very quiet that you can hardly make out the sound of him breathing, “Do what, Little one?” He finally questions. 

The sound of the name that only he called you, brings tears to your eyes. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around you like a protective barrier. Cassian’s dark eyes softened at the sight, his wings drooping slightly. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you thought of how broken Azriel must feel. It made your chest feel as if it was going to break in two. 

“I don’t know how to live anymore,” You reply, utterly defeated. 

“C’mere,” He opens his arms wide for you, dark eyes shining. You step into his arms, feeling their strength wrap around you. For a moment you feel safe again, like the little girl he once knew, “We’ll figure this out, I promise. We won’t let you down again.” 

“You didn’t let me down the first time,” You promised him, “But I think I might be too broken to fix.”

“No, no one is too broken.”

Tag List

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[khristie16]

The Fast and Forbidden

Charles is a famous F1 driver with everything one could want: fame, fortune, and fans. But he is missing one thing. Being his new personal assistant changes everything for both of them.

— chaper 1 It is your first day settling in Formula 1 world. You find out there is something off with Charles, but you ignore it. At least you convince yourself to.

disclaimer: yn with "I" pov format x slowburn

Lights were casting a shadow enveloping me as I headed toward Charles's room. My mind went on full speed and palms getting wet, feet suffering from the fancy wearing for this job. High heels clapping was the only thing disturbing this silence. This whole job experience was pestering but there was no choice but moving out from my family.

Butterflies in stomach were at its peak as I started to acknowledge this is our first meeting. Did I feel like a stalker? Standing in front of his door in a hotel he was accommodated? Definitely. But it is better to meet up here then outside with sound screeching and flashing cameras.

Giving myself one big inhale to reach for the door knob, the wooden squeak made me fall few steps behind and muscles stopped moving as Charles was leaving the apartment. Wearing Ray Ban sunglasses does a lot to one's sight evidentially. His presence was getting far away from mine as he was heading towards the elevator.

"Wait!"

The growing distance between us has stopped. With a serious tone and hands pointing at me, "I'll call the security''

My throat got tight and words couldn't pass through. His words were flowing in and out of me as waves of the ocean in the night, making me restless. Time flew fast and I was met once again with his back showing a gray hoodie.

"I'm your new assistant!"

Hope filled my veins. Mind was playing with the possibility of being thrown out displayed as a fan girl. NOT. His turn was so abrupt I was shocked he didn't crack his neck. Sweet, yet deep voice crashed my eardrums making me feel searing.

"YN?"

I nodded and I finally let my lungs chill. Damn, this started easy.

Sides of his lips crooked making me feel not welcomed but I could finally take a breath. The distance got shorter while I remained situated on one position.

"Sorry for that. I'm Charles."

Chuckle left my mouth as I found the introduction nonessential. Hands connected with him leaving warm tickles on my skin and his cologne messing my senses. God, he smelled good.

“I’m sorry, I must have looked like a stalker,” his nod made me feel even worse.

All I could inhale was airy scent torturing me, enlarging the lift going down with no noise to muddle the silence. A sway of sadness ran through my body given the fact I have to do this job. Slow mornings moving my body to the sound of inner peace and calmness enveloping my heart, the safeness growing inside of me as if it would tear me apart if given the chance to expand. Creative days with no rush and restrictions in nature. Looking to the sunlight and warming my skin touching its sleeves. I never in my heart wanted to be this 'empowered independent' woman the society has made.

I lost all the hope when opening the door of SUV myself. Has the chivalry really gone dead? Thoughts were torn off from the noise, exciting screams from Ferrari fans hovering over the car.

"Have you previously done such a job?" His gaze locked onto mine; I tilted my head in an attempt to discern the eye color, but no clear answer emerged. I chose to let the moment slide.

"No experience with the celebrity lifestyle." He nodded reassuringly, expressing confidence that I would adapt well.

The quietude felt like a snare. Knowing he is not the chatty one, I clenched my teeth. Fingers touched the screen on iPad scrolling through files kept for assisting Charles's personal life.

''I've made some changes and saved a decent amount of money''

I skimmed through the palette on the page styling and got myself wondering which of these colors match his.

''Oh, wow,'' resonated through the air. ''I trust your intellect. You are paid for it after all''

The spoken words seared into my ears, yet I acknowledged him for stating the obvious. Almost as if summoned, my mind spilled forth the reasons why I had accepted this job. The whole concept of my future given by my family's idea was the reason. Working for Charles was better than staying home.

My fingers danced across the screen, orchestrating household tasks in his absence, as a cool breeze caressed my skin. I found solace in the fact that within the SUV, I could relish the refreshing chill, outside it was a walk through hell. Speaking of, it felt as though someone had touched me with a hot frying pan against my bare skin. I turned my gaze to the left, only to find his eyes expressing fondness toward my exposed thigh. The fleeting moment of admiration came to an abrupt end as our eyes locked, and I could swear I detected a spark of intensity in his gaze. Its reason unknown to me. The back of my thigh touched the seat underneath as feet touched the floor again.

''We're almost there'' having Ray Ban again.

Leaving the car as the last one, setting feet in the hell delivered a numb pain. Mix of frustration and calling for help left my lips making Charles shot a glance in my direction as I sat there.

"What's the matter?" The genuine tone in his voice caused my shoulders to slump.

''These heels are killing me,'' skimming the pair of Jimmy Choo heels made my lips curl.

I liked to dress. Wear pretty things. But per usual, pretty things cost, coming from a humble background, the prospect of high heels and I seemed like an incompatible pair, especially in the beginning.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared ahead.

"I value my employees; choose something more comfortable next time," he continued through clenched teeth.

''I am supposed to look presentable,'' I retorted.

''You can look presentable while being comfortable,'' with his last words, he turned away, revealing his back—a connection I, regrettably, began to foster too much.

Engaging in Formula 1 is demanding on both the psyche and the body of the driver. This is why considerable effort is dedicated to maintaining optimal physical fitness, the amount of work they put into it is out of this world and one wouldn’t even tell. This misunderstanding often stems from the assumption that individuals who engage in rigorous physical training automatically develop bulky muscles. However, in Formula 1, many drivers maintain a lean physique with a minimal percentage of body fat.

This is one of the reasons I accepted this job—a relatively minor one, but my admiration for these drivers played a part in my decision. even though they don't save lives of others while risking their lives like firefighters do, they still risk a lot.

Sound of chaos lingered around me watching Charles race on the Singapore circuit, my vision blurred as I found myself yearning for something more profound to heighten the level of respect for this man, changing the weight from one foot to another.

Mere fame is insufficient for me to offer respect. A person, regardless of their status, should demonstrate general respect towards women and interact with them using good manners. I ran away from my family because of this and I block any misconceptions this society made. As of now, I have a feeling that something might be off with Charles.

“You’re the new assistant?” I titled my chin up to see a man looking at me. His hair seemed to absorb no light at all. Forming theories about the man—his inclination toward comfortable attire and a penchant for photography—I nodded in acknowledgment and shifted my focus back to the swift cars, resembling nothing more than fleeting smudges.

“I’m Joris, Charles's close friend”

His hand reached out to me and I accepted his offer.

“I believe it’s quite a job huh?”

This man believed that either way I took this job being incompetent or he tried to start a conversation. Either way I didn’t like how he started.

“Job is ok. People are the tricky one”

His silence provided a momentary relief, causing my tense body to ease. Soon after, someone came to my vision.

A blonde-haired woman enveloped Joris in a warm hug, and the sound of French language resonated in the air. Despite my understanding of French, I chose to keep to myself.

“He’s really put it on a whole new level”

Words stopped at my level, their bodies facing mine.

“Yes, this is YN”

Seeing her face, I smiled. I had a break from work, and I preferred not to spend it with people I don't know.

“I’m not surprised though. I’m Carla”

We shook hands but my mind was elsewhere. Her choice of words got my attention. ''What do you mean by that?''

I was told curious creatures get killed fast. I am okay with that. Joris expression fell and my curiosity grew. On the other hand, Carla showed us white teeth. She was giving me the vibe she could sleep like a baby even after spilling everyone's secrets.

“He is focusing on career now, doing a decent work like tidying his room is a distraction for him I suppose”

Laughter filled the space and the way she proceeded those words made me question everything. It was clear that she was his friend, and her disapproval of his decision to hire a personal assistant inclined me to be drawn to her side and trust her perspective. Bad feeling about Charles was not a coincidence.

Legs swept me elsewhere still on the territory of the Ferrari background but as I got consumed by thinking about everything and nothing, I lost the track where I was heading. The lighting changed, and the once resounding sounds of engines and formulas on the track dissipated. A metal door ahead beckoned me, and without overthinking, I reached for the knob, immediately sensing a shift in the atmosphere. Before me stood an elegant kitchen counter and a man donned in a Ferrari shirt. As our eyes met, I instinctively moved to offer an apology, feeling as though my legs were already propelling me towards the exit. However, he was quicker in his response. His warm smile welcomed me and I looked at his wrinkles around the eyes. He could be in his forties and Italian.

''Ciao''

Shyness enveloped me as it displayed on my scrunched eyebrows and crooked lips. I greeted him back.

''I am Andrea''

As the doors finally closed, my hands released their grip on the cold metal beneath my fingertips. ''I'm YN. Sorry If I disturbed you''

His laugher filled the space as If I told him the most hilarious joke ever and he closed the distance while still keeping his spirit up. His arms enveloped me in a warm hug, creating a sensation akin to being in a cozy room illuminated by flickering candles. Indeed, this guy exuded the comforting ambiance of a room bathed in candlelight.

I put the dots together. He is the personal trainer of Charles. He sent me reports about expanses on stuff for Charles's training. For the first time this day, laugh left my lips as this situation seemed so embarrassing to me, but to keep it fair, I haven't encountered any familiar faces since my interview and I got my feet on the Singapore land just today. But I felt immense gratefulness for Andrea. Mind note: I have to buy him candles sometimes. My stomach seemed to have a mind of its own as it growled, and we both erupted in laughter.

''Oh my, let me make you something''

My eyes felt like they were on the verge of falling out, and I fully embraced the mode of sabotaging the mission he had so earnestly accepted. He shook me with more laughing telling me to relax. I stopped harassing him and hopped on the barstool.

''Thank you, but you really don't have to do that'' He kept quiet with a warm smile on his face as his hands worked the magic. I didn't know what he was making, he could poison me for all I care. I did not. My soul hasn't felt this warm since I have flown through the air gate to Singapore. And it is a lot to say when it is a living hell outside there.

''I believe you’re not used to long flights''

I hummed in response and engaged him about my flight. I wanted to keep it short, but my monologue ended with details and meeting with Charles. He furrowed his eyebrows listening to me while fiddling something on the frying pan. Yep, he could easily poison me if he wanted to.

''That surprises me, Charles is always like a sunshine''

First Carla, now Andrea. As if written on a secret paper known only to few, they were describing Charles differently than I have experienced him to be making my head spin. But as long as I keep receiving money so I can leave this job and start the life I want, then I am fine not being included to this 'crew'.

''I noticed how Charles has changed his approach towards career now,'' lingered in not so approving way and I couldn't hold back anymore.

''Change of approach?''

He nodded and I cursed myself for keeping the question short. Just when I accepted the end of discussion, he put the food on a clean plate and continued.

''He's really hard on himself. He has two brothers and lost a father.''

Words hit me like a rock bottom and my breath got stuck for a second. The sound of plate landing on the counter and the smell of the food freed me from my momentary mental drift. Clearing my throat facing the warm smile.

''I knew he has brothers, but didn't know he is the oldest one''

Andrea shook his head immediately placing the utensils next to the plate.

''He is not. He is the middle child, but Charles is just Charles.''

I understood his words and took my focus on the food in front of me. My stomach responded in gratefulness as the egg omelette was filling its smell to my nostrils. Taking a bite resolved in an appreciative moan as Andrea laughed at my reaction, but his smile slowly faded away as I sensed another presence behind my back. I turned my torso with full mouth of the omelette to see Charles in his gear.

The first upper half of the gear was open, hanging itself on the sides of hips showing the fireproof underneath, displaying his toned chest. Red really suited him. Charles had this lazy look in his eyes shooting through my skull telling me something encrypted in a highly sensual manner and as I become aware I'm no longer chewing, I took off my eyes from him to the plate again.

The food sliding down had a hard time doing so and I shifted my focus to Andrea to thank him. Charles moved like a ghost behind Andrea and pulling out the water from the cabinet. Italian language filled the room and I prayed for having the food eaten already.

I found out Andrea was telling the truth; he was like a sunshine.His dimples were on full display, and his delightful chuckle echoed, sounding like a melody to my ears. I didn't wanna melt here on the barstool so I ate like a daredevil. When Andrea noticed me finishing, he reached for the plate.

''Don't worry about it, I wash it''

Frozen on the spot, he took the plate with a polite smile and I thanked him for it. I couldn't help myself looking away from Charles. He was eyeing me while taking a sip of his bottle. Sweat on his forehead made his longer hair stick to the skin in a delicious matter and I felt my knees to buckle soon. Shifting from warm to cold to hot in a second wasn't good for my heart. I excused myself and went anywhere but there.

Two days have passed and the only conversation I had with Charles were short sentences about work. He finished forth in yesterday's race resolving his mood to worsen. I overheard how critical he can be towards himself.

I was shocked how mean he was and upset about forth place out of twenty. But we are separate individuals with different dreams, If I had lost a small amount of money resolving in postponing my leaving and pursuing my dream life, I would be mad as the weather in Singapore is.

Charles told me he doesn't need me for the rest of the evening so I had practically a time off preparing for tomorrow's flight.

[bunny-hwa]

Popular, Boy

☆04: The first surrender.

Pairing: Nerd!Hongjoong x Popular!reader

Genre: +18, slow burn, angst, smut, drama, dark academic, love triangle.

wc: 8,5k

Summary: Alliances and secrets simmer beneath the surface as relationships are tested. Whispers of a returning precense cast shadow over your carefully controlled world.

Amid growing tension, nothing is as it seems, and trust becomes a dangerous gamble.

Warnings: Cursing, emotional manipulation, power dynamics, fluff, SMUT (MDN!!) Virgin! Hongjoong, oral (f receiving) fingering, hair pulling, cum eating, use of pet names (good boy, baby, babe, pretty) suggestive.

Series masterlist

☆03 ☆05

YN♡: I hope you enjoy your return to the losers’ club, ungrateful pet.

Those words feel like a slap in the face, but there's a part of him that can't deny the sting of guilt. Hongjoong had stood up to you, and now, he was being pushed away.

He feels conflicted, like he's torn between two sides of himself.

On one hand, you have everything he’s always wanted, popularity, control, power. On the other hand, he can’t help but feel a flicker of empathy for Dann, even if it’s not enough to overpower his desire to keep his place in your world.

The past three days have been agonizing for Hongjoong. Your cold text still lingered in his mind, your words cutting deeper than he expected.

He wasn’t sure what stung more: being labeled an 'ungrateful pet' or the realization that you had the power to decide his social fate.

In the hallways, the change was immediate and brutal. Your circle avoided him entirely, with Mindy, Wooyoung and the others offering smug smirks or outright ignoring his greetings.

The glances from the rest of the school stung even more, whispers of, 'Guess YN dumped her charity case,' followed him everywhere.

Hongjoong tried to go back to his old routine, hanging out with Yunho, Yeosang, Jongho and Dann in the library, but it wasn’t the same. The nerdy jokes and shared interests felt hollow, overshadowed by his embarrassment.

He couldn’t stop feeling like he’d failed… failed you, failed himself, and maybe even failed Dann.

“Joong, are you okay?” Dann’s voice pulls him from his thoughts during lunch.

Her gaze is soft but cautious. He knows she is trying to reconnect with him, but guilt twists in his stomach.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” He mumbles, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth to avoid saying more.

But Dann isn’t convinced. She has noticed how his shoulders slump when your table erupts into laughter or how his eyes flicker toward you every time you walk by, as if waiting for something.

Was he regretting standing up for her? She wondered, unsure whether to feel gratitude or guilt herself.

✮ ⋆

Brat woo: Party at my place tonight, babydoll!! We’re gonna get lit!!

You smirk as you read Wooyoung's text. Typical of Woo, his personality is always bright and comfy.

You bit your lip, twirling a strand of your perfectly styled hair as an idea formed in your mind.

YN: Invite Hongjoong, too.

The three dots appear almost immediately, followed by Woo’s response.

Brat woo: Babydoll, why would I invite him?

Brat woo: Isn’t he banned from your bad bitches club?

You laugh at his last message as you lean back against your plush chair, crossing one leg over the other. Your perfectly manicured nails taps the edge of your phone as you craft a reply.

YN: Yeah, but invite him.

YN: It would be fun, babe.

Brat woo: Fine. But you owe me a blowjob, doll.

You scoff rolling your eyes, and you prefer not to bother replying. You knew Wooyoung well enough to predict he’d follow through.

You lock your phone and you get up to head to your closet, it's time to look for something cute to wear tonight.

✮ ⋆

His first instinct was to assume it was a mistake. Jung Wooyoung wasn’t his friend. The last party held at his house was amazing and he treated him like they were friends for years, but it was only because he was with you... but not anymore.

Hongjoong read the message again, searching for some hidden sarcasm or trap.

J Wooyoung: Party at my place tonight, you must come.

Why would Wooyoung invite him?

Was this a chance to prove himself again? To get back into your orbit? The thought makes his chest tighten with both excitement and dread.

His phone buzzes with another text, this time from Dann.

Dann: Hey, wanna hang out tonight? We could watch that weird series you’ve been talking about.”

He hesitates, guilt creeping in. Spending time with Dann sounded comfortable, easy, even, but the allure of Jung’s party looms large in his mind. And then, an idea struck him.

He quickly types a reply.

Joong: Actually, wanna come with me to a party tonight?

Dann: What? A party? With whom?

Joong: Jung Wooyoung invited me.

Joong: It’s at his place. You should come.

His reply is almost casually, as if it weren’t a big deal. There is a pause before Dann’s next message comes through.

Dann: Joong, that sounds… weird. Why would Wooyoung invite you? And why are YOU inviting me?

Dann: I remind you that the last time I went to a party, everything went wrong!

Hongjoong frowns, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He didn't think that far ahead, but now that Dann brought it up, the invite does seem odd. Still, he can't let her skepticism damp his resolve.

Joong: Does it matter? It’s a party, Dann. It could be fun. We haven’t done anything like this in forever.”

Dann: I don’t know…

Joong: Come on!! It’ll be fine.

Joong: You’ll be with me the whole time.

Joong: If it sucks, we can leave.

Another pause, longer this time. Finally, her reply comes through.

Dann: Okay… I’ll go.

Dann: But if this turns into some kind of disaster, you owe me, Joong.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He tosses his phone into the bed and starts rifling through his closet, searching for something that looks remotely party-appropriate.

This is it, he thought, half to reassure himself. This is my chance to prove I’m not just a nobody anymore.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The party is already in full swing when you step through the door, your entrance commanding attention as always.

Wooyoung is the first to greet you, slinging an arm over your shoulder in a casual, brotherly way.

“About time, babydoll.” He teases, steering you further into the house “You’ve got people asking for you already.”

You smirk, brushing a perfectly styled strand of hair from your face.

“Good. Let them wait. it builds anticipation.”

Your eyes scan the room, taking in the crowd of familiar faces. The thrum of music, the faint haze of smoke, and the sharp scent of expensive cologne feel like home. But tonight, it’s not the crowd you’re interested in.

“Did you do it?”

He glances at your sideways, catching the subtle edge in your voice “Yeah, I invited him. He is coming, right?” Woo asks casually, though there’s a glint of mischief in his tone.

You nod, lips curving into a sly smile “Of course he will. Thanks for the invite.”

“Anything for you, Queen Bee.” Woo chuckles, patting your shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

You barely take two steps before Seonghwa appears in your path, leaning casually against the doorframe of the kitchen as if he’s been waiting.

“You really showed up.” He says, his tone teetering between disbelief and sarcasm.

“Obviously, miss out on this? Never.”

His sharp eyes rake over you, the casual air he projects cracking just slightly.

“So, you brought him here?”

You lift your chin, feigning innocence “Who?”

“You know who,” Hwa says, his voice dropping “The nerd.”

“Oh, him. He’s just part of the fun, but he is not coming with me today.”

“Fun,” Hwa repeats bitterly, stepping closer “That’s what you’re calling it?”

You don't back down “You’re awfully concerned for someone who’s supposed to be done with me.”

The jab hits, and Hwa’s jaw tightens “We’ve been through a lot, Clarke. I know how you operate, and this is reckless—even for you.”

“Reckless?” You scoff, taking a deliberate step toward him “Spare me the lecture, Seonghwa. If you’re so worried, maybe you should focus on your own vices. Or do you need me to remind you how much recklessness you’ve been indulging in lately?”

His eyes narrow, his jaw clenched “You always twist things around, don’t you?”

You tilt your head, a flicker of amusement dancing in your gaze “Only when necessary.”

The tension between them hums like a live wire, but before either can escalate further, you sigh and soften your tone.

“Look, Hwa, I get it. You’re mad because I’ve been spending time with Hongjoong. But you and I both know this—whatever this is—doesn’t have to be like this.”

Seonghwa’s perfect brows knit together, his posture relaxing just slightly “And what’s ‘this,’ YN? Because it feels like we’re always walking the same damn line.”

“Friends,” You say firmly, though your voice carries a hint of warmth “We’ve been friends forever, haven’t we? Almost more than friends, at times. I’m not throwing that away just because we’ve hit a rough patch.”

He studies you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he exhales and runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, well, you’ve always been good at getting under my skin. Guess I should be used to it by now.”

You smile, a real one this time “You should. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t mean for things to get so tense between us. Truce?”

Hwa hesitates but eventually extends a hand, his lips quivering into a faint smirk-

“Truce. But don’t think I’m letting you off the hook completely.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You say, shaking his hand briefly before pulling him into a quick hug.

As they pull apart, Wooyoung reappears, his grin as wide as ever “See? Told you it’s a party, not a courtroom.”

Both of you laugh, the tension finally dissipating. After all, you've been friends since you were kids, fighting over who got the best gifts or who got the most toys during Christmas.

Yes, maybe fights always were and will always be frequent, but the bond you created will always be there, whether as friends or as lovers. And no one can deny it.

✮ ⋆

The laughter still bubbles around you and friends as you relax on the plush couch in the middle of the buzzing party. The low hum of music blends with the chatter of your friends, creating the perfect backdrop for your carefree moment.

You perched elegantly with your cocktail in hand, tossing your hair back with a playful smirk.

“Remember when you told everyone I cried about losing that silly bet when we went to Meeru Island in the Maldives?” Mingi says, aiming a mock glare at Wooyoung.

He chuckles, shrugging. “You did cry, Mingi. Like, full-on wailing. I saved you from complete humiliation by telling everyone you were faking it.”

“You’re insufferable, Woo.” You lean forward to swat at him, but your grin betrays your amusement.

San joins you, plopping down on the armrest beside Seonghwa, his beer in hand.

“God, you two never change. Should we get you a reality show or something?”

Mingi rolls his eyes but laughs along, the tension from you and Hwa's little fight seemingly evaporating. It’s like old times again, your rhythm unshaken.

Then Woo’s gaze shifts toward the entrance, and his playful expression stiffens slightly.

“Uh… you told me to invite him, but I didn’t think he’d actually show up.”

You follow Wooyoung’s line of sight, your smile freezing as you spot Hongjoong stepping into the house. His attempts at looking casual—down to his carefully chosen shirt and forced grin—betray the nerves he’s clearly trying to hide.

But it’s not just him. Dann is with him, hovering awkwardly at his side.

Seonghwa notices too, his smirk turning razor-sharp “Well, if it isn’t the exile. You sure know how to pick your projects, Clarke.”

Your grip on the empty glass tightens ever so slightly before you recover, placing it calmly on the coffee table. You rise with an air of detachment, smoothing your short silk black dress.

“Don’t start, Hwa.”

Hwa leans back, watching you with an amused glint “I don’t need to. This show writes itself.”

Ignoring him, you stride toward the entrance, movements deliberate, your heels clicking against the polished floor.

Hongjoong’s face lights up with hope when he sees you approach, but you don't acknowledge it.

“Enjoying the party?” You ask coolly, your gaze sweeping over both Hongjoong and Dann.

“Uh, yeah,” He says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly “Thanks for—”

“Wooyoung invited you,” You interrupt, your eyes flick to Dann, your lips curving into a smile that’s anything but friendly “Didn’t realize you’d be bringing… extras.”

Dann stiffens under your gaze “I just came because Joong—”

“I didn’t ask,” You cut her off smoothly. your focus shifts back to Hongjoong “Enjoy the party, and stay out of my way.”

Before Hongjoong can respond, you turn on your heel, heading back to the couch where all your friends are waiting, barely containing their laughter.

“That was subtle.” Mingi teases as you sit back down.

You pick up another drink and take a long sip, your face calm but your mind racing. You had ordered Jung to invite him, but seeing him here, with Dann of all people, scratches at your carefully curated control.

Seonghwa leans closer, his voice low “Trying to make him mad, huh? Gotta admit, it’s fun to watch.”

You don't reply, your gaze lingering on Kim as he and Dann hover near the edge of the room. The party continues to swirl around you, but the game you’re playing tonight is only just beginning.

“Let's go dance.”

And without waiting for an answer, you drag Seonghwa to the center of the dance floor.

✮ ⋆

The party pulses around Hongjoong, but all he can see is you. You were radiant, laughing as you danced with Seonghwa, your hand grazing his chest as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Weren't you supposed to be on bad terms? He threatened you a few days ago and now you act as if none of that has happened.

Every glance, every touch, feels like a slap to Hongjoong’s face, and when your eyes meet his for a brief moment across the room, he knows it wasn’t accidental.

Dann stands beside him, trying to engage him in conversation or distract him with sarcastic comments about the crowd, but he barely responds.

His guilt over snapping at her earlier only adds to the storm brewing inside him.

As the night goes on, you and Seonghwa grow bolder. You dance closer, bodies pressing together in a way that feels almost taunting. Your hand trails lazily over Hwa’s chest as you throw a sly glance over your shoulder, directly at Hongjoong.

He can't take it anymore.

“I need a minute.” He mutters to Dann before walking away.

He finds you in the corner of the room, laughing at something Seonghwa had said. Your head tilts back, the sparkle in your eyes brighter than ever. You look utterly in control, utterly untouchable.

“YN.” Hongjoong says, his voice tight.

You turn to him, your expression cool and unimpressed “Hongjoong, enjoying the party?”

“I…” He hesitates, glancing at the tallest, who stands smirking at him like he knows exactly how pathetic he feels.

“Spit it out.” You cross your arms waiting for his next words.

Hongjoong swallows hard, his pride crumbling under the weight of your icy stare.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You ask, feigning ignorance as you raise an eyebrow.

“For… for defending Dann.” He admits, the words tasting bitter on his tongue “I shouldn’t have done it. I wasn’t thinking. Please, YN. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

You tilt your head, a small smile playing on your lips “Is that so?”

“Please, YN. I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever you want to make it up to you.”

You raise an eyebrow. That phrase sounds kinda familiar. Your gaze sweeps over him with an air of detached amusement.

“Anything?”

“Yes.” He said, desperation dripping from every syllable.

“Prove it.”

He looks at you confused, unsure what you mean. But when you point at the floor with a slight nod, his heart sinks.

Here? Now?

The party is still bustling around them, and though the music is loud, he knows there are enough eyes on them to make this moment humiliating.

But the thought of losing your favor, of being cast back into obscurity, is unbearable.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees in front of you like the first time he did it. The weight of the action crushed the little pride he had left.

“I’m sorry,” His voice trembling as he looks up at you “Please, YN. Forgive me.”

Your lips curve into a slow smile, and you reach down, brushing your fingers along his jaw.

“Good boy.”

Without another word, you grab his hand and pull him to his feet. Ignoring the stares of the partygoers—and the way Seonghwa’s amuse chuckle follows them—You lead him through the crowd and up the stairs.

Hongjoong’s pulse races as you push open the door to an empty room, shutting it firmly behind you.

“YN, I—” He starts, but you silence him with a finger to his lips.

You step closer, a hand sliding up his chest before tangling in the collar of his shirt. Your lips hover just above his, teasing him, your breath warm against his skin.

“You want me to forgive you, don’t you?” You whisper against his lips.

“Yes…” He breathes, his voice shaking.

“Then show me how sorry you are.” You say as your lips finally crash into his.

The kiss is rough, demanding, leaving Hongjoong breathless as your hands roam over him.

You push him into the edge of the bed, your confidence unwavering as you climb into his lap.

“Make it up to me.” You murmur against his ear, your tone lace with both seduction and dominance.

The room remains shrouded in heavy silence, broken only by the sound of your ragged breathing and the soft rustling of fabric as your hands continue their work.

Hongjoong sits before you, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his eyes glazed with a mix of guilt, desire, and submission. He’s completely under your control, each deliberate movement you make reinforcing your hold over him.

You trail your nails lightly down his chest, exposed now as his shirt hangs loose from his shoulders.

“See, Joongie,” You purr, leaning in to press a lingering kiss to his neck “When you beg like that, it reminds me how much you want to be here… how much you need me.”

He shivers under your touch, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words come out. His mind is a haze, lost in you—your voice, your touch, the overwhelming weight of your presence.

He feels as if he’s drowning, yet he doesn’t want to come up for air.

Your lips return to his, capturing him in a kiss so intense it steals his breath. His hands caressing from your waist to your bare legs as you tug him closer, your hands tangling in his hair, ensuring there’s no escape.

Not that he wants one.

Your smirk deepens as you lean closer, your fingers curling under his chin to tilt his face up. Your dominance is unshakable, your presence commanding every ounce of his attention.

“On your knees.”

You order, carrying a weight that leaves no room for protest as you get off his lap to sit next to him on the bed.

Hongjoong’s breath hitches. His mind scrambles for a response, but the intensity of your gaze renders him silent. Swallowing hard, he glances around the empty room, then back at you, his cheeks already red when he sees you spread your legs.

He thinks he knows what you want him to do, and that makes him more nervous.

“YN, I don’t know—”

“Do you trust me or not?” You interrupt, fingers trailing down to his collar, tugging him forward “You said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you?”

Caught in your words and unwavering stare, Hongjoong nods hesitantly.

“I do.” He whispered.

“Then show me.”

Slowly, he slides down to his knees, the fabric of his jeans scraping lightly against the floor. His hands hover awkwardly at his sides, unsure of where they should go, as he looks up at you, his wide eyes fill with a mixture of anticipation and nerves.

He's never done this before. He's seen it in porn videos but still doesn't know exactly what to do.

Your fingers slip into his hair, touch firm but not rough, and you guide him closer with a slow, deliberate motion.

“I always tell you this. Relax, Hongjoong, I’ll take care of you.”

Your other hand moves to the hem of your dress, slipping it up just enough to expose the soft fabric of your black panties.

Hongjoong’s gaze drops instinctively, his breath catching in his throat as his pulse races.

“Focus, Joongie.” You tease, tugging lightly on his hair to draw his attention back to your face “Start slow. I want to feel how much you want my forgiveness.”

With shaky hands, he rests his palms on your soft thighs, his touch hesitant and careful, the cold of his rings making you shiver.

You guide him lower, your smirk never wavering as his lips brush against your thighs.

The warmth of your skin, the faint scent of your perfume, the weight of your hand in his hair—all of it consumes him.

His inexperience is obvious, but you don't mind. You encourage him with soft sighs and subtle movements, your hips tilting forward slightly as he grows bolder, leaving little bites on your inner thighs as his fingers play with the edge of your panties, sliding them down slowly.

He starts taking his time dishing out kisses and biting on both thighs, making you impatient.

You let out a whimper pulling his hair slightly “Hongjoong… hurry up and eat me out.”

For the first time in his life, Hongjoong feels confident enough to smile mockingly against your delicate skin.

You, begging him to touch you? He never imagined it.

Still holding his smile, he slides your panties all the way down to your ankles, and removes them eagerly, leaving on your pretty high heels.

When he returns to his starting position between your thighs, he can't avoid looking to your bare core, all glossy with slick. He bites his lip at the sight.

Did he provoke that?

“Joong...” You reproach again with a whine.

You really need him to do something on his own or you'll force him to sink into your folds right now. You've never felt so desperate before, so eager for someone to touch you.

Hongjoong smiles again, your whiney voice turning him on.

The dry humping in your car, the blowjob in the empty classroom, and all the little make outs can not compare to this. Your pussy inches from his face, your hand tugging his hair and your desperate form waiting for him to touch you.

Fuck, he can’t believe this is happening.

With the highest confidence ever, even though he keeps in mind that he does not know what he is doing, he leans towards your pussy, giving a long lick that makes both of you moan in pleasure.

His warm tongue explores every millimeter of your womanhood, you whine as Hongjoong swipe his tongue up and down your wet slit, taking all your slick on his mouth.

“Shit, you taste so good, baby.” He says without realizing his words, his mind already cloudy.

You open your mouth in surprise at his daring words, you swear you feel more arousal coming out of your cunt.

“Fuck, Hongjoong…” You tighten your grip on his hair, forcing him to sink his head further and he lets you do it gladly, smiling against you “Ah… f-fuck me with your tongue, babe.”

And he does, he leaves your swollen clit to play with his tongue rubbing around your entrance, making you whine desperately.

He snorts with fun when you pull his hair harder, he is loving the way you’re acting, all whiny and desperate for him.

Without making you wait any longer, he slowly introduces his long tongue in your core.

He moans when he hears you do it and starts moving his tongue in and out, your walls clenching on it, his nose rubbing your clit, and his hands squeezing your thighs, bringing you closer to his mouth.

You arch your back, squirming and moaning under his exquisite touch. You never imagined that a virgin nerd like him could eat pussy so well.

Fuck, you never imagined he'd ever do this to you.

“That’s it,” You whisper, voice breathy but firm “Just… just like that, Joong.”

Each sound you make spur him on, his nervousness slowly giving way to determination. He wants to please you, to prove that he is worthy of your forgiveness, even if he doesn't fully know what he is doing.

Your breathing quickening as you tilt your head back “Good boy…” You murmur, your words sending a shiver down his spine.

The tension in the air is electric, every movement charged with a mix of control and surrender.

As your soft moans grow louder, Hongjoong can't help but feel a sense of pride, his confidence building with each passing moment.

✮ ⋆

The music blared through the speakers, the heavy bass vibrating the walls of Wooyoung’s mansion. Dann squeezed through groups of laughing, dancing people, her eyes scanning the crowd.

She’d been looking for Hongjoong for what felt like forever.

She finally spots Jung Wooyoung leaning casually against the bar, a drink in hand, and his signature easygoing grin in place.

Relief washes over her as she approaches him. She has never interacted with him, but she must find Joong.

“Wooyoung,” She calls out, raising her voice above the music “Have you seen Hongjoong?”

Jung tilts his head, his expression is a grimace when he sees her. He's drunk but he doesn't remember inviting this loser to his party, much less knowing the grudge you have against her.

“Little Hongjoong?” He echoes, taking a slow sip from his drink “Yeah, he went upstairs. With babydoll.” At Dann's confused expression, he rolls his eyes “He is upstairs with YN.”

Dann’s stomach drops at his words, her brows knitting together.

“With YN?” She repeats, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Wooyoung nods, smirking “Yep. Upstairs. Why? You jealous or something?” His tone is teasing, but Dann doesn’t have the energy to respond.

She turns on her heel and heads for the stairs, her heart pounding with every step. As she climbs, the noise of the party grows muffled, replaced by the quieter sounds of her own breathing and the creak of the steps.

Her mind races with thoughts she doesn’t want to entertain.

Why would Hongjoong be with you? After everything, after all the tension between you?

She reaches the top of the stairs and pauses before she approaches the only door that is closed in the hallway. Something tells her that they are both in there.

Her hand hesitates on the doorknob, her heart hammering against her ribs. Slowly, she pushes it open, the hinges creaking softly.

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight before her.

There you are—You and Hongjoong. You’re laying on the big bed, moaning as your hands grip Hongjoong’s hair while he is between your legs.

Hongjoong’s shirt is half-unbuttoned, hanging loosely off his shoulders, and his hands grip your thighs tightly, pulling you closer.

Dann’s chest tightens as a sharp pang of betrayal and hurt courses through her. She stands frozen in the doorway, her fingers gripping the frame as she struggles to make sense of what she’s seeing.

Neither you nor Hongjoong notice her. You’re too consumed by each other. The intensity of Hongjoong’s movements speaks volumes, and he is clearly enjoying being there.

Your dominance is evident too, your control absolute, while Hongjoong seems lost, entirely under your spell.

Dann bites her lip, willing herself not to cry as she takes a shaky step back. The scene before her is a confirmation of every fear she’s tried to suppress.

She retreats into the hallway, her heart aching with every step.

Downstairs, the party rages on, oblivious to the turmoil in Dann’s chest.

✮ ⋆

“Joong… I’m close.” You announce closing your eyes shut and your whines get louder, the pleasure is too much to handle.

At your words, Hongjoong places his lips around your sensitive clit, sucking and pulling at it, and without you expecting it, he thrust two of his fingers into your narrow entrance, making you open your eyes and groan in surprise.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You quickly lift yourself up on your elbow to get a better view of him eating you like a starved man, It is certainly a spectacular sight.

His eyes closed in concentration, his warm mouth on your pussy and his fingers caressing the right places in your tight cunt.

Shit…. Is he really a virgin? Because this is the best oral sex you have ever received.

“L-look at me… look at me, baby.” You order him and he immediately obeys, looking at you with those doe eyes, those pretty doe eyes make a wave of pleasure run through your body “F-fuck… gonna cum, baby. K-keep going.” You moan again tilting your head back, your eyes rolling back “J-just like that…”

Damn, Hongjoong swears that this is the best view in the world, your mouth agape, eyes rolling back, you saying his name like a fucking mantra, this will undoubtedly be an image that will stay in his mind forever.

“Cum for me, pretty… cum on my mouth.”

He doesn't know where that sentence came from but he can't help it, the adrenaline of the moment has his mind clouded.

With those words, you lose it. Your strength leaves your body when the well-known pressure on your abdomen appears, your grip on his hair becomes stronger and your legs begin to tremble from immense pleasure, your orgasm explodes like never before, leaving you breathless.

He moans in satisfaction, the taste of your slick driving him crazy, he moves his tongue everywhere collecting every drop of your orgasm, just like you did that day with him.

“Ah… fuck, Joong!” You squirm under his movements, feeling the beginning of overstimulation “Hongjoong… ‘s too much, baby.”

With a last lick and a wet kiss on your clit, Hongjoong lifts his head with a light smile.

He’s pussy drunk right now and you smile, taking him by the cheeks and bringing him closer to you to kiss him.

His lips are swollen and his chin is soaked with your fluids, he looks messy, but you don't care. The kiss is full of something special this time, you don't know if it's gratitude, warmth or love. But you're definitely enjoying it too much.

“Did I do it right?” He murmurs against your lips and he smiles when you nod.

“That was amazing.” You pull him back, your breathing uneven, your eyes meet his with a satisfied gleam “Not bad for your first time.”

Hongjoong remain above you, his chest heaving as he tries to process what had just happened.

You run a hand through his messy hair, glancing down at him with a mix of amusement and approval.

“Let’s go back to the party.” You add, leaning down to press a quick, teasing kiss to his lips before pulling back.

And Hongjoong smiles satisfied, satisfied to have your forgiveness

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The hallway outside Wooyoung’s upstairs den is dimly lit, the faint bassline of the party vibrating through the walls.

Dann leans against the banister, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to shield her from the storm raging in her chest. Her mind replays the image of you with Hongjoong in that compromising position.

She blinks back the sting of tears, her breath hitching.

“Pathetic,” She whispers to herself, trying to steal her resolve.

But the pain lingers, twisting deeper with each passing second.

“You look like hell.” A voice cuts through her thoughts, sharp yet strangely casual.

Dann startles, her wide eyes locking onto Seonghwa as he saunters out of the shadows. His shirt is half-buttoned, his tie hanging loose around his neck.

He takes a slow drag from a cigarette, the embers glowing faintly in the dim light.

“What do you want?” Dann’s voice wavers, a mix of anger and embarrassment as she hastily wipes at her cheeks.

Seonghwa tilts his head, smirking “Relax, I just happened to notice you running out of there like the world’s ending.” He exhales a thin trail of smoke, his eyes narrowing with mock “Saw something you didn’t like?”

Dann glares at him but says nothing. The silence between them grows heavy, thick with unspoken truths.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Hwa finally says, leaning casually against the banister “Let me guess… Hongjoong and YN, all over each other like she hadn't kicked him out a week ago because of your little show in the cafeteria?”

His tone drips with derision, his smirk deepening when Dann flinches.

“Why are you telling me this?” She snaps, her voice cracking slightly “You’re supposed to be her friend, aren’t you?”

Hwa chuckles, low and mirthless “Friendship’s a funny thing, don’t you think? Especially when it comes to someone like YN.” He flicks the cigarette away, watching the faint glow disappear into the darkness “You think she really cares about anyone but herself?”

Dann’s gaze falters, the weight of his words settling over her.

“Look,” Hwa says, his voice softening just enough to sound sincere, “I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of YN’s little games. She’s been pulling this crap since we were kids, using people, discarding them when they’re no longer useful.”

Dann clenches her fists, her voice barely above a whisper.

“But Hongjoong isn’t like that.”

Hwa raises an eyebrow, his smirk returning “You sure about that? He dropped you pretty fast for her, didn’t he?”

Her breath catches, the truth of his words cutting deeper than she wants to admit.

“But here’s the thing,” Hwa continues, stepping closer, his voice lowering conspiratorially “YN’s not untouchable. She’s got secrets, vulnerabilities… things she wouldn’t want getting out.”

Dann looks up at him, confusion and hesitation warring in her eyes.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… if you really want to hit her where it hurts, I can help.”

The air between them crackles with tension. Dann hesitates, her instincts screaming at her to walk away.

But the memory of Hongjoong doing such a thing with you flashes through her mind again, the sting of betrayal fueling the embers of something darker.

“Why?” She asks cautiously, her voice steadier now.

Seonghwa’s grin widens, his eyes glinting with calculated charm

“Let’s just say I have my reasons. And besides…” He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper “Don’t you want to see her fall?”

Dann swallows hard, the weight of his proposition pressing down on her. Her mind races, torn between doubt and the growing need to fight back.

Finally, she nods, her voice quiet but firm.

“Okay. I’m in.”

Hwa straightens, satisfaction flashing across his face “Good. Stick with me, and we’ll make sure YN regrets every move she’s made.”

As he walks away, Dann stands frozen, the faint echo of his footsteps fading into the music downstairs.

For the first time that night, she feels something other than pain—something sharp and dangerous, simmering just beneath the surface.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The soft glow of the afternoon sun filters through the expansive windows of your house, casting a warm, golden hue over the sprawling living room.

You and Hongjoong sit cross-legged on the expensive carpet, a mess of images, glue sticks, and markers spread out between you. The project you’re working on is for the literature class—a visual timeline of key events in European history.

For once, you aren't delegating the work entirely to Hongjoong. Instead, you’re snipping pieces of paper with surprising focus, handing them over to him to paste onto the board.

“Here,” You say, holding up a carefully cut-out image of the Berlin Wall “Paste this next to the 1989 marker. And make it straight this time.”

Hongjoong smirks, taking the picture “Yes, pretty. Anything else you’d like me to do, Your Majesty?”

You roll your eyes but hide a smile “Just don’t mess it up. My grade’s on the line, too.”

You share a laugh, the recent nickname he loves to call you since that night at Wooyoung’s party makes you feel butterflies in your stomach.

Since that day, Hongjoong feels the ease between both of you—something he never thought possible just a few weeks ago. He doesn’t feel nervous or out of place anymore.

Being with you feels natural now, like he belongs here.

You lean back, brushing your hair over your shoulder, and look at him with a curious expression.

“You’re actually not bad at this. Who knew?”

He grins “Wow, high praise coming from you. Should I write this down?”

You smirk, tossing a crumpled piece of paper at him “Don’t push your luck, Kim.”

The banter continues, light and comfortable, until the sound of heels clicking on the marble floor interrupts them.

Your mother appears in the doorway, dressed immaculately as always, her gaze sweeping over the room.

“Oh! Hi, Hongjoong. Didn't know you were here.” Your mother greets him with a lovely smile

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Clarke.” He bows his head politely.

“How are you doing with that guys?” She says while looking curiously at your project.

“Great, we’re having fun.” Hongjoong answers with a sweet smile and your mother giggles gracefully.

From the first time your mother met him, she was delighted with the boy, saying how handsome and polite he was.

“Incredible. Sweetie?” Now she addresses you and you hum in response “I wanted to let you know your brother will be returning from Germany next week. He finished his program early.”

You freeze, your hands stilling on the paper you're cutting. For a moment, a flicker of something—fear?—crosses your face.

“Oh…” You say, voice strained despite her attempt at nonchalance “That’s… great.”

Your mother narrows her eyes slightly, as if detecting the unease.

“Yes. He’s looking forward to seeing you. I hope you’ll make him proud of how you’ve been handling things here.”

“I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.” You reply with a forced smile.

“Well, I'll let you continue with your work.” Your mother gives a curt nod before leaving the room.

Hongjoong glances at you, sensing the sudden shift in your mood.

“Mike?”

You exhale sharply, tossing the scissors aside “Yeah. My amazing brother. If he finds out I’ve been… well, less than perfect, he won’t hesitate to tell my parents.”

Hongjoong frowns “He sounds… intense.”

“You don’t know half of it.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. For a moment, your confident exterior falters, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Hongjoong reaches out, hesitating before placing a hand on yours.

“Hey, it’s okay. Whatever happens, you’ll handle it. You’re YN, remember? You always do.”

You look at him, your expression softening “You’re sweet, you know that?”

He shrugs, a blush creeping up his neck “Just for you, pretty.”

You lean in, your lips brushing his in a soft kiss.

“Let’s finish this project before my mother comes back and give you compliments just for existing”

Hongjooong chuckles, but he can’t shake the lingering thought of your brother. Whoever this guy is, he clearly has a hold over you—and that’s saying something.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Dann quietly tidies up remnants of her lunch, her movements mechanical. She hasn’t spoken to Hongjoong in days. He doesn’t even look at her anymore.

But she notices the change in you—the way you smile more, laugh more, when Hongjoong is around you.

And Dann can’t help but feel the ache in her chest grow sharper with each passing moment.

How much she wishes she was in your place, to be so close to Hongjoong.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The house buzzes with quiet anticipation, the staff moving about with heightened energy. Your mother, dressed in her usual pristine elegance, stands in the center of the room, her voice carrying an air of authority but still kind.

“I want everything perfect for my son’s return,” She announces, her tone leaving no room for error “The table arrangements, the food, the decor—everything must reflect our family’s standards. He’ll be here in three days, and this dinner must welcome him properly. The whole family will come, so the banquet should be for twenty-five people.”

Dann crouches in the corner of the hallway, hidden behind a large vase. She had come to deliver your paperwork but froze when she overheard the conversation.

Her heart pounds as she listens, her mind racing. YN’s brother… She wouldn't know that the Clarkes have two children if it weren't for some pictures hanging on the walls, in all this time she never heard anyone mention it, not even your parents.

She knows almost nothing about him, but the little mention that Seonghwa made one day left her intrigued.

Why does no one in the family talk about that guy?

The moment your mother leaves the room, Dann slips out and makes her way to the backyard, her hands clutching the papers tightly.

She unlocks her phone in hand and calls Seonghwa.

He’s been a constant presence in her life these past two weeks—not as a friend, but as a partner in their silent pact.

In these weeks, Hwa has treated Dann with a mix of indifference and amusement. He never misses an opportunity to remind her of their deal, yet he’s never outright cruel.

For him, she’s a tool—a means to an end. But for Dann, every interaction feels like walking a tightrope, unsure when his charm might twist into something sharper.

“Seonghwa,” she calls softly when he picks up.

“Hi, what’s the news?”

Dann hesitates before speaking “YN’s brother… He’s coming back in three days. Her mom is planning this big welcome dinner for him.”

“The golden boy, huh? Interesting.”

“Interesting?” Dann blurts out before she can stop herself.

“Of course, it is. Daddy’s favorite, perfect older brother who can do no wrong? He’s probably the only one who can knock YN off her pedestal.”

Dann frowns, clutching her hands nervously “Are you sure about this?”

“Don't be scared, Seo, I’ll take care of everything.”

Dann isn’t comforted by his nonchalance, but she knows better than to push. Seonghwa isn’t someone who worries; he plans, manipulates, and waits for the perfect moment to strike.

“Okay… bye.

Dann bites her lip, hanging up before walking back inside the house. But as she retreats, she can’t shake the feeling that she’s stepping deeper into a game she barely understands.

✮ ⋆

You lounge on the oversized velvet sofa in the living room, your legs tuck beneath you as you flip through the book Hongjoong recommended to you.

You’re not reading it—your eyes skim over the pages without absorbing a single word.

Around you, the house is abuzz with activity. Maids dust every surface, fluffing pillows to perfection.

A team of florists meticulously arranges extravagant bouquets in the foyer, filling the air with the overpowering scent of lilies and roses.

Your mother strides into the room, clipboard in hand, rattling off instructions.

“The table settings must be silver, not gold. And make sure the wine glasses are spotless—he deserves only the best.” Her voice drips with excitement.

You glance at the dining room, now transformed into a stage for the grand dinner. Crystal chandeliers gleam above the polished mahogany table, which is already set with fine china and embroidered napkins.

Everything is immaculate, screaming perfection—just like your brother.

Your father joins his wife, a rare smile softening his otherwise stern face “Finally, our son is coming back. Three years is far too long.” He places a hand on the woman's shoulder, his tone filled with pride “He’s the best of us.”

Your stomach twists. Their words sting in a way you don’t expect. It’s not that you hate Mike—not really. But the shadow he casts is suffocating, the impossibly high bar he sets that you’ll never reach.

The perfect son, the golden child who’s never made a misstep—or so everyone thinks.

Because you know better. You know the cracks hidden behind his flawless exterior. The things he’s done, the lines he’s crossed.

The way he’s used you to cover his tracks, forcing you to dirty your hands so his reputation could remain unscathed. The memory of his voice, cold and commanding, still echoes in your mind.

'You’ll do it, YN. You owe me.' And you always did because saying no was never an option.

Your parents know about his anger issues. They’ve seen his temper, the way his anger can spiral into violence.

They’ve heard the arguments, felt the weight of his wrath. But they ignore it, choosing instead to uphold the illusion of their perfect son.

You know they love you and love to spoil you, but you also know their disappointment runs deep.

To them, you’re the little child who always gets her way, who causes trouble without considering the consequences.

A loud clatter from the kitchen breaks her thoughts, and your mother whirls around.

“What was that? We can’t afford any mistakes!”

You watch your mother hurry away, and your heart sinks further. Mistakes.

That’s all you feel you are lately and a series of disappointments waiting to be uncovered. Your eyes drift to the grand staircase, and you imagine Mike descending it, his presence commanding the room, and your parents beaming with pride.

Your phone buzzes, pulling you from bad thoughts. It’s a text from Hongjoong, something sweet and simple about your project.

Joongie: We’re getting a 10, pretty.

Joongie: Promise!!

For a moment, you smile, but it quickly fades. Hongjoong is your escape, your distraction, but even he can’t erase the weight of your family’s expectations.

Sighing, you set the book down and lean back, closing your eyes. The house feels suffocating, filled with reminders of who you are supposed to be.

But this time, you won’t be caught off guard. If your brother’s return is inevitable, you’ll face him on your terms—even if it means confronting the secrets they both carry.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

The school backyard is too quiet to be the last class, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees as students chatter in the distance.

You and Hongjoong sit on a bench, the space between them comfortable but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

You swing your legs lazily, your eyes looking at the horizon. Your usually confident demeanor seems a little more distant today, like your mind is elsewhere.

Hongjoong notices it instantly, and though he’s not the type to pry, he can’t help but ask.

"Hey, what's going on? You seem… off today."

You glance over at him, lips curling into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“It’s nothing. Just stuff with my family.”

He raises an eyebrow, sensing that it’s more than just ‘stuff.’ He leans a little closer, his voice softer now.

“Your brother, right?”

You freeze at the mention of him, gaze flickering to the side, as though trying to avoid the thought altogether. Your fingers fidget with the hem of your jacket, and you sigh deeply.

"Yeah, he’s coming back today." You try to mask the vulnerability in your tone, but Hongjoong catches it anyway "After three years, my parents are so excited. You should see the house, Joong... everything has to be perfect."

Hongjoong watches you carefully, his expression thoughtful. He remembers when your mother told you about Mike’s return.

You had been visibly upset, though you masked it quickly, eager to avoid the conversation. He knows that you have spent your whole life living in your brother’s shadow, constantly compared to his perfection.

"I get it," He says softly, his voice steady "You’ve always felt like he’s the ‘golden child,’ right? The one your parents adore."

Your lips tighten, but you don't argue, just nod, glancing at him with a half-smile.

"It’s exhausting. He’s everything they ever wanted in a son. Business master. Perfect grades. Perfect manners. Perfect everything." You pause, a bitter edge creeping into your voice "It doesn’t matter how many times I get a perfect score or do everything right. It’s never enough."

Hongjoong nods, his hand resting on the back of the bench, his gaze still on you. He knows you hide a lot behind that confident exterior, but the cracks are starting to show now, and it makes him feel both protective and… uncertain.

"It sounds like a lot to deal with. But your parents love you. They just have high expectations, don’t they?"

Your gaze flickers briefly to him, but you don't meet his eyes. You bite your lip, as if debating whether to continue.

"They do, but sometimes it feels like it’s not enough." You shrug, trying to brush it off, but the weight of the words lingers in the air between them "Anyway, enough about that."

You shift in your seat, a new thought clearly forming.

“Hongjoong,” You say, voice softer now, almost vulnerable "I know I’ve been, uh… caught up with my family stuff lately. But would you… would you ever invite me to your place one day? Just, you know, to get away from all of this?"

He blinks in surprise, but the warmth of your request is clear. It’s not about the drama or the pressures you face at home. It’s just you wanting a break, wanting something simple.

A break from being the ‘perfect’ daughter, the one always judged against the golden child.

"Of course, pretty." He replies without hesitation "Whenever you want. You can always come over."

You look at him, eyes softer now, a real smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Thanks, that means more than you know."

You sit in silence for a moment, the weight of your words settling between you. Hongjoong’s heart races, unsure of what this means for their relationship but knowing one thing:

Being around you, seeing you like this—vulnerable, honest—it pulls him in deeper.

Finally, you break the silence again “Well, if I have to put up with my perfect brother for a while, at least I’ll have something to look forward to, right?”

He chuckles, the sound filling the quiet space between you “Exactly. And you know, I think the ‘perfect’ brother might need a little dose of reality. No one can be perfect all the time.”

You grin at that, your usual self-assuredness flickering back to life.

"Maybe.”

"Well, you’ve got me for anything. Always."

As you sit there, the rest of the world seems to fade away. Just for a moment, everything is okay.

And for now, that’s enough.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Taglist: @alliecoady98 @maidens-world @yulsr @justconniez @luvvvash @nkryuki @silenttrxxs @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone @xh01bri @beabatiny @yothangie @posseup @0407files @yeorisanaxox @innocygnet @a-tiny-thing @sannieily @maplelilly05 @ddeonugu @niaee @cheolright @mrskill2 @badbitch69420sworld @lover-of-fics @zaynsfl4m3s

For some strange reason I can't tag these blogs :c if you want you can leave another blog in the form Or if you can help me solve this problem I would really appreciate it. @Ycuhugi @a-atiny_niawoo @Lemonkait00

You can join the Taglist: Here

☆○☆○☆

All rights reserved ♡bunny-hwa. Do not copy or translate my work.

[bkgml]

ex bf againnnnnn!

(cw! mentions of vomit but nothing descriptive)

i wish i wasn’t shadow banned so more ppl could see this cause i worked hard!! :(

————————————————————————

10:47pm

yn: hey

katsuki nearly dropped his phone.

“bakugou man, why’re you so quiet?”

bakugou sighed deeply, rolled his shoulders and opened his mouth to speak.

“uh it’s nothing. none of your business.” he shrugs him off.

but sero already made his way behind him.

“bro, yn texted you?!” he calls out.

dropped jaws from around him make the boy seethe.

“i told you to mind your business!” he yells.

ignoring his friends screams, kirishima sees through bakugous facade.

“you gonna text her?” he asks calmly.

bakugou meets his eyes and sighs again.

“probably.” he groans.

“dude, what the hell! you were torn up for months after that breakup!” kaminari pipes in.

but he’s already typing.

10:59pm

suki: why are you texting me?

yn: sorry if i woke you up

suki: you didn’t

yn: can i call you?

he pauses again and the boys have now made their way to surround his phone.

“you guys are like fuckin hyenas.” he frowns.

“are you gonna call her?” kirishima says.

bakugou takes a moment to think before groaning and getting up.

“it could be an emergency.” he mumbles out before opening the door to kirishimas room to stand out in the hall.

*incoming call from ‘suki’*

your breath catches in your throat before you make your shaking thumb press the answer button.

“hi.” you speak shakily.

you pray he chooses to ignore the upset tone in your voice and he does.

“hey.” he replies calmly.

“um. were you asleep?” you ask.

“no, i was with the idiots.”

he hears you laugh lightly through the speakers.

“why’d you text me?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“well, i uh.” you laugh again, a habit you have when you’re nervous.

“i don’t feel well.” you say.

he pauses and starts tapping his foot.

“how’s that my problem? i’m not your boyfriend anymore.” he says, sounding meaner than he intended.

you sigh shakily and he can practically hear the tears forming in your waterline.

“yeah, um… i know that. it’s just i really can’t sleep.” you mumble, afraid of his reply.

“what do you want me to do about it?”

the pause is long before you speak again.

“god this is so embarrassing.” you whine, letting an uncomfortable laugh slip through your lips.

“just say it, alright?… it’s fine.” he says quietly.

“okay um… can i sleep in your bed with you? we don’t even need to make contact or anything.. i just feel like shit and it’s so hard to sleep without you.” you whisper.

he takes a second to think over his answer. if he’s being honest he was hoping you’d say something like that. he hasn’t had a good nights sleep since you broke up either. but on the other hand you’re broken up. he shouldn’t be doing this.

“are you still there, kugo?” you interrupt his train of thought.

he breathes deeply though his nose and blinks away some tears that are trying to form at the use of the nickname.

“uh yeah. just thinkin.” he replies, shakily.

“you really don’t need to let me. i only asked cause i’m really desperate and we didn’t end on terrible terms, you know?” you say quietly.

he rakes a hand through his hair and sighs.

“how bad is it?” he says.

“huh?”

“is it just a cold, or what?” he confirms.

“oh um, i have a high fever and i keep throwing up. sorry if that’s gross i just know you don’t get sick because of your quirk. i can’t ask any of my friends they’ll get sick.” you say.

he groans deeply while pinching the bridge of his nose. you guys are broken up, why does he still care?

“meet me outside my dorm in 5 minutes, and im not doing this shit again.” he mumbles out.

he hears you whine and sniff, feeling a tug on his heartstrings.

“thanks, kugo.” you say as your voice wobbles.

“don’t keep me waiting.” he replies.

the two of you hang up and he groans at the thought of having to tell the idiots.

he opens the door and steps inside.

“hey, so what’d she say?” kirishima asks.

“nothin. i’m going to bed.” bakugou grumbles.

“you sure?”

“yeah, fuck off.” he says as he steps back outside.

he heads back to his room and steps inside.

he made sure to get here before you so he could clean up some things he’s not so proud of.

the framed picture of you he’s never taken off his desk, the small bottle of perfume that rests on his nightstand and your shirt that sits on your side of the bed.

he can’t sleep on your side anymore.

he stashed them all in one of his desk drawers before hearing a knock on his door.

“here goes.” he whispers lowly to himself.

he opens the door to see you standing there.

face red and covered in tear stains, bed head, deep eye bags, lips plush and bitten and his hoodie draped on your form. you’re biting your nails, another habit you have when you’re nervous.

“hi.” you say with watery eyes, bringing the sleeve of his hoodie up to wipe the tears that are threading to fall onto your cheeks.

“hey.” he says, pushing the door open wider.

you step inside hesitantly, before getting a waft of nausea and sprinting into katsuki’s bathroom.

“yn?!” he calls, running after you.

he finds you hunched over the toilet.

“hey…” he says, walking over to you and kneeling beside you.

he’s hesitant but he does start to rub your back and clasp your hair in his hand to keep it out of the way.

“it’s alright, let it out. katsukis here.” he says, soothingly.

“hurts…” you whine.

he chuckles quietly.

“i know, swe-“ he cuts himself off, praying you didn’t hear the beginning of the pet name.

you sit up once your done and he sees fresh tears sliding down your face.

“that was a nice icebreaker, huh?” he smiles while he wipes your tears.

“oh yeah, me throwing up. great icebreaker.” you smile back as you lean into his touch.

“better now?” he asks.

you nod slowly before your face crumples up with disgust.

“i still have your extra toothbrush, come on.” he says as he helps you up.

you steady yourself once you’re on your feet.

“thanks, kugo.” you smile brightly.

he has to turn away from your bright smile and your cheery nickname.

“let’s just get you in bed.” he replies.

he waits for you to brush your teeth. while you were together he’d be doing it for you, you sitting on the counter with your legs around his waist and your hand holding his.

he blinks away tears that haven’t even formed yet at the thought of how things used to be.

“bed?” you ask sweetly once you finish brushing your teeth.

he nods and resists the urge to bring you by the hand into his bed so he can hold you until you feel better.

he walks into his room and heads into his bed.

he pats your side of the bed and you bite your nails again before slipping under the sheets with your ex boyfriend.

you turn towards each other but make no move to touch each other.

“you tired?” he asks when he sees your drooping eyes.

you nod and wipe your tears with his sleeve once again.

“why’re you crying?” he asks.

you sniff and snuggle deeper into the sheets of his bed.

“im sorry i made you take care of me.” you cry.

he lets a sigh through his nose.

“i know.” he says and he doesn’t resist the urge to cup your cheek to comfort you.

you whine and lean into his hand again.

“get some rest, yeah? katsuki’s here.”

he’s here. you’re okay.

you repeat those phrases in your mind as you close your eyes and drift off into a calm sleep.

once he knows your asleep he presses a lingering kiss to your head as he finally lets a single tear fall from his eye.

11:37pm

kirishima: hey bro, why’d you leave so early?

bakugou: none of your business.

kirishima: don’t tell me she’s there

bakugou: shut up.

kirishima: bro

bakugou: even if she is here it’s none of your fucking business

kirishima: im just saying you wore torn up for months about her

bakugou: it’s not like we fucked. she’s sick.

kirishima: are you sure?

bakugou: yes now fuck off.

he puts his phone back on the nightstand and ignores the buzzing of his friends protests.

staring up at the ceiling he sighs before he feels rustling from beside him.

you make your way from beside him to resting on top of him with your limbs tangled with his.

he inhales a shaky breath as he wraps an arm around you and kisses your cheeks.

he feels you hug him tighter and he stiffens.

“miss you…” he hears you mumble.

he pauses.

“miss you too, baby.” he calls out in the silence of his bedroom.

[in1-nutshell]

Hi! Hope you're doing well!

I'd like to have something about Buddy with Russian greyhound (I requested that once, remember that one?) The first meeting, some shenanigans with each of the Team Prime members, some fights with the Decepticons, even Buddy dealing with Sentinel's bullsh*t and defending Team Prime. You can make it in one post of you want)

Oh, have you come up with his name? If not, then I suggest Quickstep or Sprinter)

Have a good time of your day!

P.S.: was my request really weird? 😅 just curious)

This has been one of the request always slipping around, today I finally caught it!!!!

And no, your request was not weird, a bit different from the ones I usually get, but not weird.

Hope you enjoy!

Sprinter and Team Prime shenanigan's

SFW, Platonic, Cybertronian reader

TFA

A lot of things had happened while Team Prime was getting used to their new team member, Sprinter.

Not only was their alt mode a bit… peculiar, but the amount of energy they always seemed to be stocked on.

Bumblebee and Prowl seemed like the only bots able to keep up with them.

But even then, Sprinter seemed to be literally, ‘one step ahead’.

Bumblebee and Prowl panting at a stop. Bumblebee: “Di-Did you see- where- oh primus- they went?” Prowl just weakly shakes his helm before the two go their separate ways to find their teammate. Meanwhile with Sari and Sprinter… Sprinter is sitting for once on the top of a tall building watching Sari eat her burger. Sari: “Thanks for getting me out of Tutor bots lessons today.” Sprinter: “Well, you did say it was torture, and there’s no way I’m letting my friends get tortured!” Sari slowly realizes the misunderstanding. Sari: “I meant that—” Sprinter stands up and stretches a bit. Sari: “Sprinter?” Sprinter: “I’m gonna run over that bot so fast he won’t know what hit him!” Sari: “No!”

Sprinter seemed to have a sense of justice when it came to the care of their new friends.

It was only fair.

They helped them get used to Detroit, it was only right to help them when they needed help.

Sprinter, to a degree, understands that they are much more energetic than the others and should take it down a notch, to not hurt anyone.

As much as they love going fast, they love their friends more.

Going out of the way to defend them, when necessary, even if they don’t think it is.

Sentinel digging a digit into Optimus’s chassis. Sentinel: “So help me Optimus, if I every see your crusty paintjob—” Sentinel spots two narrowed optics in th shadows staring at him. And audible growl is heard. Sentinel: “What is that?” Sprinter, in their hound form slowly walks to Optimus side, optics never leaving Sentinel. Sprinter: “Stop touching my friend.” Sentinel: “Are you giving me orders?” Sprinter: “A warning. Stop making my friend feel bad.” Optimus: “Sentinel—” Sentinel crouches down mockingly and roughly pokes their snout. Sentinel: “Or whaaAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!” Sprinter’s jaw is locked on his servo as the other Prime tries to shake them off. Sentinel: “GET THEM OFF ME!!!!!” Optimus doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry at that moment, but he lets Sprinter get a few dents in before helping his other Prime.

They have been banned from entering the Elite Guard’s ship.

Sprinter doesn’t care.

They’d bite Sentinel again if they had the chance.

Jazz and the Jettwins have new respect for the bot.

Blurr, as much as he gets back to the ship to do his reports, always takes a little break to meet up with his fellow speedster.

The only one on Earth, and probably Cybertron, to understand him talking without giving him a blank stare or asking him to repeat.

Fanzone has given up on attempting to give them a speeding ticket.

Mainly because he found out that Sprinter has a collage of all their past tickets and is making it in his image.

He still doesn’t know whether to be flattered or furious.

…He will occasionally give them one so they could continue.

When it comes to Con’s, Sprinter loves to mess with them using their speed and alt mode.

With their speed, Sprinter easily climb buildings to kick the Con’s straight into their chins.

It also helps in evacuating humans and their teammates out of blast areas.

Sprinter spots Bulkhead in the line of fire. Sprinter: “Bulkhead!” They sprint over to him and using both their pedes they land a kick to his side. The impact is fast enough to move them both out of the blast area. Bulkhead rubs his side a bit. Bulkhead: “Thanks for the help and all… but did you need to kick that hard? I feel your pedes on my fender.” Sprinter gives an embarrassed smile before racing over to help the others.

With their alt mode, they love to confuse the Con’s.

It always confuses them.

Sometimes, on good days, the Cons will try to figure out what their alt mode is and get distracted.

They don’t even have to move!

Sprinter in their alt mode is sitting by the water fountain at the park. Lugnut: “I will crush you Autobot—wait—Blitzwing!” The triple changer comes over. Blitzwing: “What iz—urgh their back.” Lugnut: “Do you have the list?” Blitzwing sighs. Blitzwing: “Lugnut we do not have time for this!” The triple changer still passes the list of space animals to Lugnut. Team Prime gets to the park just in time to see the two Con’s retreating and an unscathed Sprinter lounging in a shady area. Sprinter opens their optics at their team’s surprised faces. Sprinter: “Lugnut had to take Blitzwing back to the base after suffering a glitch to the processor. It looked like a bad one too.”

[lesson-in-ruthlessness]

Ruthlessness Is Mercy — KOTLC fanfic

Description: Flashbacks throughout Grady's childhood. Grady and Vespera finally meet. Grady is pathetic and sexy while Vespera is evil and sexy. This will probably be a series if yall like it. Neverseen!Grady series.

————————————————————————————————

It's ok to feel… troubled when you manifest as a Mesmer. The mind is something greatly idolized, and manipulation of it is scrutinized.

Grady laid on his bed as he flipped through the pages of his new, Foxfire-issued textbook, dramatically sighing each time he flipped to a new page.

Lots of diagrams, he thought as he studied a diagram of an elven brain, this isn't freaky at all!

He closed the book and looked at the title, hoping it would change the outcome of the results.

A Beginner’s Guide to Being a Mesmer.

Instinctively, he turned the book over so he couldn't see the title, hoping it wasn't real.

Grady was still dealing with the uprooting of his entire life. Ever since he manifested, his family wouldn't talk to him and his Foxfire peers would look at him as if his entire existence was a taboo.

He knew they were right.

His ability to entrance then control the wills and minds of others wasn't banned outright, simply anyone with it was virtually a pariah.

As his thoughts stirred, he had no idea what that bubbling feeling in his chest was, as he began to choke on his tears; thinking about everything he was losing.

Once you learn how to manage this daunting power, it will be like you never manifested in the first place.

———

“Finally, I get to meet you in person. You're as…mesmerizing as they say.” A pale gray elf with very pointy ears emerged out of the shadows.

Grady shuddered at her voice. He didn't know who was addressing him, all he knew was that his mission was being compromised. “That’s a thinking cap, isn't it.” Grady said, pointing to the head dress the elf was wearing. “It’s why I can't sense your mind.” He laughed starkly. “That is, unless I've officially lost it.”

“You’re rather clever, however not clever enough to know this is not a hallucination.” The elf said, appearing on the other side of the room.

“Two questions. How do you know who…and I'm assuming what, I am? What do you want?”

“There’s only so many Mesmers on the Nobility. Isn't it unfair?” She smiled a cold smile, “as for the second question, you'll just have to find out.”

“Once I figure out who…and where you are… I'm going to rip that thinking cap off your head. Then we'll see who's laughing.”

“You’re rather bold for someone who just started his job as an Emissary.”

“I've been here for a decade, miss whoever you are,” Grady said, observing the walls.

Mirrors, he thought.

“A decade is a rather short amount of time, especially for an elf.” She smiled, her image shifting to another mirror.

“You’re an Ancient, aren't you?” Grady looked around for a way out. “I’m asking one more time, what do you want?”

“Your help.”

—-------

“This is in no way a bad idea,” Grady whispered to himself as he stood on the Bramble field. “Get in their heads, get the ball. Like you have before. Two people is nothing.” He said that last part again, as if he was trying to convince himself of it. Then, he exhaled and said “game on.”

A whistle blew and Grady took off running towards the opposing team's bases.

Bramble was the one place in school where he wasn't an outcast. In fact, he was the opposite. Due to his ability and Bramble allowing abilities, he was the star player on the Foxfire Bramble team. He knew that for the most part, he was seen more as an asset, but it felt good to have a community.

He spotted two people running towards his team's base and exhaled again. “Change of plans. Go for one. This could be…” he hesitated for a moment. “Fun.”

He closed his eyes and locked in on the mind of one of the people, a girl, feeling his energy coursing through hers. It was almost a calming feeling as he felt their energy become one. Then, felt his take over hers. He opened his eyes and saw her, feeling her attempts to move. He let out another sigh as he focused his energy on launching her towards the other person running. Watching intently and with a slight feeling of horror, he made her tackle the other elf.

Once he saw a few elves run to the tackled boy to help, Grady ran for the ball.

————

“You’re going to ask me for assistance and not even give me a name?” Grady asked through his laughter.

“Why do you need a name?” The Ancient asked. “It's not in any of your Elvin History books, rest assured.”

“I am assured,” he said, walking towards a mirrored wall. “Very assured.”

Grady drew back a fist and punched a mirror, the glass shattering into a seemingly infinite amount of pieces.

He did it again. And again. And again, until he was standing in a pool of shards. He looked at his fists, which were bloodied.

Most elves aren't used to the sight of blood, let alone their own. However, between his time playing bramble and the Council giving him more…unsettling missions, he had seen his own blood plenty of times.

He looked around again for the Ancient, but couldn't find her. Then, he picked up a glass shard and wielded it like a knife. “This is the last time I'm asking nicely. What do you want with me?”

“And what are you going to do about it? You're practically defenseless.” She laughed another bone-chilling laugh. “Anyways, I want your help to change the world as we know it.”

“Very funny. You cannot demand my help without even giving me an actual face.” Grady waved the makeshift knife around.

And then, she stepped out of the shadows. Then, Grady ran behind her and stuck the mirror shard to her throat. “One more word,” he said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll slash.”

“You wouldn't do that. At the end of the day, you're still an elf. You're fragile.” She grabbed the shard out of his hand with ease and pointed it back at him. “You, however, would be quite the interesting specimen to study.” She grabbed his hand and carved a line in the palm.

Grady winced but through the pain, grabbed another shard with his free, less bloody, hand. This time, instead of holding onto it, he threw it at the Ancient. It got caught in her cheek and she smiled. She took out the bloodied shard without even flinching. “It makes sense that one like you has the capacity to be so… ruthless.”

“What do you mean ‘one like you,’” Grady asked.

Deep down, he knew the answer. He knew it was because— as far as elves went— he was essentially hardened to violence. He was almost human in that aspect. While he burst into tears at the sight of an animal being hurt and rush to help, he's the only elf he knew that would scrape and bleed and even scar. He's the only elf he knew that didn't really care that he did, of course he'd stop by a Healing Center and patch up, but in the moment, he'd wince but there would be no shock.

He had a theory on why he was like that as well. It was because of his damned ability, it was an inherently violent one to him. Even as a kid, he held the belief he was dangerous. Therefore, he didn't really care about what happened to him, only the people he was close to; if he ever met someone he was close to.

Despite knowing the answer, the Ancient answered “your history, Grady. The Troll incident. The Bramble championships.” She wiped her cheek and showed him the blood. “You made and Ancient bleed. You're as ruthless as you are ostracized. With your help, we could reshape the world. A world where you won't be judged for something you couldn't control. A world without being viewed as evil for something you were burdened with. Not something you desired.” She offered out her hand for a shake.

He observed her hand, which was as gray as the rest of her skin. “Before I accept your generous offer, what's your name?”

“Vespera.”

Grady shook Vespera’s hand with his cut one.

————————————————————————————

taglist: @nowjumpinthewater @camelspit (this was YOUR idea) @crescentpaws (it evolved a bit since we last spoke)

[potatoplace]

Mutual Cycles

Feyre x Rhys

Written for ACOTAR Omegaverse Week: Day 7

Summary: Rhys has been irritated all day, but when he comes home he finds just the thing to fix that problem.

Words: ~1.6k

Warnings: somnophilia, A/B/O dynamics, knotting, smut, Rhys being a simp for Feyre, not proofread lol

Author's Note: I wanted to get something out for the last day of omegaverse week, and I want to say thank you so much for the moderators of @acotar-omegaverse-week for hosting it! It's been so much fun to get back into writing and read all of the amazing fics coming out of it. I hope we have one again next year :)

18+ only

🩵💜🩵

Rhysand was seated at his desk, Keir standing in front of him, Cassian and Azriel flanking his chair. Keir was prattling on about some reason why the Darkbringer’s forces were not ready to be rallied. Rhys entertained two minutes of his excuses before cutting him off.

“I do not care what your reason is, Keir, you have already had three months to rally the Darkbringers. If you do not confirm for me that they are ready to fight within the week, I will gladly drag you down into the dungeons myself and let Mor have her way with you,” he growled, thoroughly incensed with his uncle, who looked surprised and afraid. Perfect.

This pathetic excuse for a male had annoyed him far too many times, perhaps he should just end his life now and save himself the headache of coming back down to this cursed court so soon.

One of Azriel’s shadows opened the door behind Keir, who gladly took the cue and scurried away. Cassian shut the door behind him, then turned to look at Rhys, a questioning look on his face.

Rhys let out an angry sigh, looking to his right at the Shadowsinger. “I wasn’t done with him yet, brother.”

Azriel quirked a brow at him. “Unless you decided that a week’s time is already up, yes, you were.” Rhys scowled at him.

“What’s wrong with you, brother?” Cassian asked, an amused smile playing on his lips. “Normally you let him go on for five minutes at the least.”

“Nothing,” Rhys sighed. “He just annoyed me faster than usual is all.”

“Maybe a training session would do you some good,” Cassian suggested. Rhys considered it for a moment, then inclined his head in agreement. “Az, will you be joining us as well?”

“No, I’m suspicious of Keir’s motives. I’ll stick around here for a bit longer.”

Rhys stood and walked around his desk, clapping his hand on Cassian’s shoulder. “Just us then, brother. Let’s go,” he said, winnowing the two of them to above the House of Wind.

🩵💜🩵

An hour later, Cassian had banned Rhys from the training ring for the day, saying that he was only getting more temperamental with each round they fought.

Rhys had glared at him and flown away, heading for the town house. The chill winter wind did nothing to cool the pool of rage within in him, though.

The moment he hit the pavement outside the house, he could smell her. His mate, his sweet, delicious smelling omega.

He swung the door open and entered the house, looking around for her. This time of day, she was normally taking lunch in the garden or working on paperwork in as she ate. He glanced out of one of the window facing the garden, no Feyre.

He made quick work of checking the first floor, his mate nowhere to be found.

He took the stairs two at a time, needing to see her now. Her scent was stronger on this floor, and he took deep lungfuls of her intoxicating scent, lilacs and pears, so perfect and just for him.

He looked in his office, but his omega was not there. Rhys opened every door along the hallway leading to their bedroom, with no luck.

The last door he opened, he struck gold. His omega’s sweet scent was overwhelming, and there she was, laying on the bed underneath the covers. His little omega was sleeping, taking a short nap most likely.

Lucky for him to find her, ready and waiting to be devoured, the perfect water to soothe his fiery temperament.

He slipped the blankets off of her, revealing her soft body clad in a black satin nightgown, so short it almost gave him a peek of the treasure between her thighs.

He sank down onto the bed, parting her legs and placing himself between them. He took a few greedy breaths in, instantly feeling his anger cool. This. This was what he needed.

His omega’s pretty pink little cunt.

He licked slowly up the length of her, gathering some of the slick leaking from her on his tongue. Yes, this is exactly what he needed, and used his fingers to gently part her lips, lapping at her center. Her taste was divine, perfect, all he ever wanted to have on his tongue again.

His cock was straining against his trousers now, the base of it swelling slightly already, just from a few heavenly tastes of his omega’s pussy.

Feyre was stirring slightly, a soft whine escaping her lips when Rhys brushed his tongue against her clit. He rubbed soothing circles on one of her thighs as he sucked gently on the little bud, entranced by the way her rib cage was moving faster now, and her eyes fluttered open just as he used his other hand to push a digit into her.

“Alpha,” she whined, a hand grabbing his hair and pulled his face further against her, the sight of her mate between her legs nearly enough to finish her then. He obliged her, moving his finger slowly in and out of her, making sure to curl against the spot that he knew made sparks fly through her body, lapping at her clit. Her thighs clamped down around him as she came, slick pouring out her and right onto Rhys’s tongue.

He licked her clean before he moved up her body, placing a kiss on his omega’s lips as he misted their clothing, leaving nothing between them but the delicious brush of skin.

“Omega,” he purred, nosing her neck to the side and sucking on her neck. Feyre sighed, a soft, contented sound, and pressed a kiss to his neck, nuzzling into it. He bit down, causing Feyre to gasp and stiffen slightly before he sucked and lapped at it again, and Feyre went limp beneath him again.

His cock was throbbing at this point, leaking at the tip and his knot half formed. It brushed against Feyre’s thigh and he groaned into her neck, even just the feeling of his omega’s skin was cauldron blessed. He lined himself up with her weeping cunt, and pushed in in one stroke. Their breath caught in their throats, Feyre was not quite prepared for the stretch of his length, or the immediate press of his knot against her, and Rhys was overwhelmed by the feeling her walls hugging him so tightly.

He gave a few powerful strokes, relaxing his omega’s cunt before he pushed the base in roughly, and he loved the way his omega’s breathing was coming in small gasps.

“Omega,” he muttered against her neck again, his world consumed by her in this moment. Her scent, her presence, her cunt were all that occupied his mind as he rocked back and forth gently, a hand coming down to rub at the apex of her thighs.

He bit down on her neck again where the mating mark was, leaving a fresh new set of bite marks over it, and Feyre came again with a strangled cry, Rhys following right behind her, his knot inflating fully and sealing them together.

Feyre wrapped her arms and legs around him, needing to be as close to him as physically possible, even if they were already locked together for a good while.

Rhys rolled them to their sides, and slid a hand through her tangled hair. He took in her flushed face and watchful eyes. “I missed you, omega.”

“I missed you too, alpha.” She paused for a moment. “Are you in rut?”

Rhys furrowed his brow at her, confused by the question. Until he thought a bit about it, that would explain…

“That would explain why I wanted to kill Keir more than usual, I suppose. And why the moment I saw my mate’s pretty little pussy my knot started growing.”

Feyre blushed, her cunt clenching around him at his words, and both of them groaned. “Mm, that would make sense love. It would also make the fresh mating bite you gave me more logical. Not that I don’t love to refresh it every now and then,” she smirked.

Rhys let out a low laugh, knowing his mate would be covered in bite marks by the time his rut was over. “Good thing I have such a sweet omega, hmm?” Feyre’s cute little smile was enough to draw him in for a kiss. “I love you, darling.”

“I love you too, Rhysie,” she replied, and this time it was his turn to blush.

“You always save that for the sweetest moments, love.”

“That’s because every moment with you is the sweetest, Rhysie,” she said lovingly with a smile on her lips. He wrinkled his nose as he smiled, kissing her again and pulling her body further into his, her head against his chest.

Her body was flushed, growing warmer with each minute they spent pressed together.

���Darling?”

Feyre nuzzled into his chest, not bothering to look up at him, knowing what he was going to ask.

“Are you in heat?”

She looked up at him, her face more flushed than before. “Yes, but only because your rut set it off.”

He laughed lowly, taking another kiss from her. “At least this way we’ll be miserably hot and turned on together, darling.”

She pressed her lips to his again before threading a hand through his hair. Feyre rocked her hips gently, testing how much she could move. Her body needed more of him already, even with him sealed inside of her.

“A whole week of uninterrupted time with my alpha?” Feyre’s smile was dazzling, her happiness overwhelming down the bond. “Count me in.”

[silencedogood1969]

We built this.

Stone by fucking stone,

hand in hand,

marching through fire with blistered feet,

our hearts ablaze with the kind of hope

only the beaten-down can carry.

We ripped the goddamn chains off.

We made them see us.

From DOMA’s ashes,

we stitched rings around fingers

that had been empty too long.

We carved love into laws

that once told us to disappear,

turned closets into doorways,

silence into roaring streets,

and fear into the kind of joy

that makes you cry because you can’t believe

you’re alive to feel it.

We stood under the rainbows,

our faces kissed by decades of protest.

The ghosts of Stonewall whispered to us

from brick walls that still smelled of smoke and sweat.

We danced where others had bled,

and for a moment,

the world looked like it might finally love us back.

But now—

Now, this.

“I’m scared I won’t be accepted for who I am anymore.”

They shouldn’t have to say that.

Not now.

Not after everything we built.

“It feels like we’re moving backward.”

We hear you.

We see it too—

the way the clock ticks in reverse,

the way the progress we bled for

crumbles like paper in their hands.

“As a transgender student, this makes me feel unsafe.”

You should be safe.

You should walk through halls

without your own shadow threatening to choke you.

You should never have to question

whether you have a future.

“It’s disheartening to see the government take away rights from my friends.”

Yeah, it fucking is.

It cuts, doesn’t it?

To watch the world pretend it’s better,

then rip the foundation out

from under your feet.

And we can’t let you believe

this is how it ends.

We won’t let you think

this is what we fought for.

They ban the brave,

the ones willing to bleed for a country

that tells them to sit down and shut up.

“Not like that. Not in that uniform.

Not with those pronouns.”

And for what?

To protect what?

Children?

You mean the ones you’re leaving to dodge bullets in math class?

Sure. Protect the children.

But they’ll pardon the traitors.

The ones who dragged flags through the blood of officers,

smashed glass in the name of “freedom,”

and screamed for the heads of the people

who dared to protect democracy.

One thousand five hundred motherfuckers

who stormed the building,

and you shake their hands,

while we,

the ones who love in ways you can’t stomach,

the ones who fight in ways you’ll never understand,

are left outside your goddamn gates.

And then you have the audacity to call us the problem.

You stand at your podiums,

polished and righteous,

and call us predators.

“Protect the children,” you say,

like we’re the ones raiding libraries

or handing out AR-15s with Happy Meals.

You call us “extremists,”

but it wasn’t us smashing windows,

beating officers,

and chanting for blood.

You love to say the quiet part loud.

“Radical gender ideology,” you sneer.

“Groomers,” you hiss.

You don’t even try to hide it—you wear your hate

like it’s something to be proud of.

We see you.

Your laws, your bans, your bullshit smiles.

We see it all.

You’re scared of us.

Not because of who we love

or how we dress

but because we don’t need you.

We’ve always built our own homes

in the rubble of the ones you burned.

We’ve turned closets into battlefields

and parades into revolutions.

And you think we’re gonna take this?

You think we’re gonna sit down and cry quietly

like we used to,

when you called us slurs

and told us to bury ourselves alive

because the world wasn’t ready for us?

Fuck you.

You think Pride was a parade?

It’s a fucking war cry,

a love song that drowns out your bullshit laws

and your hollow prayers.

WorldPride is coming to your city.

To the steps of your Capitol,

to the heart of your power,

we’re bringing the millions you tried to silence.

We’ll flood your streets with flags,

our colors slicing through the rot of your politics.

We’ll kiss in your parks,

scream so loud you’ll think it’s thunder.

We’ll laugh and dance and live,

because we know what you don’t—

that your fear of us

will never outlast the joy we carry in our bones.

We’re not backing down.

Not now.

Not fucking ever.

We’ve burned before,

but we don’t turn to ash.

We rise,

we roar,

we remind the world who the hell we are.

You can ban us.

You can erase us from your policies,

your bathrooms,

your military,

your damn laws.

But you will never erase us from history.

And you sure as hell will never erase us from this fight.

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Shadows and tears

So this is a series about Azriel and reader. English is not my first language so please excuse any mistakes. I hope you like it!

Summary: Reader is a tortured soul who barely escaped the brutality of the Illyrian camps finding shelter in the Day Court. Her identity was well hidden until she caught the attention of the Night Court’s Shadowsinger. Will the mating bond be enough for their love to settle in?

Warnings: angst, mentions of abuse and trauma.

Masterlist

Prologue , Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7, Chapter 8 , Chapter 9, Chapter 10

I think you will need the tissue box now...

Epilogue

Choices.

“Mor how was she?” Azriel spoke. He was clearly drunk and a mess.

“Happy” Mor replied trying not to flinch by her friend’s pained voice.

He didn’t leave his room for almost a month until Rhysand and Cassian moved him to the river house to keep an eye on him.

He was staring the garden from his window, staring at his family, all together enjoying the sun. Mor and Emerie were laying on the grass playing with Nyx. Rhysand with Feyre on his lap. Cassian laying with his head on Nesta’s thighs. Amren and Varian lost deep into conversation. Elain and Lucien caressing the flowers and laughing. Gwyn had followed y/n in the Autumn Court after Beron died.

Tears filled his eyes as he saw the happiness of his family. He wasn’t jealous of them in a bad way, he just wished he could be amongst them with y/n on his lap. One act out of anger after the way she treated him that morning destroyed his happiness. Maybe he was undeserving of love. Maybe that’s why he couldn’t find it for so long.

The one thing he longed for. His obsession. His salvation. The only chance he had to feel loved. To feel affection. Destroyed by his own hand.

Elain left him the next day of y/n’s departure, just a letter on his nightstand explaining that now that she saw his pain, she felt guilty for pushing Lucien away.

Gwyn disappeared into the library only coming out to inform everyone that she will search for y/n.

Helion banned him from his court and stood as a guard at the wedding in case the shadowsinger tried to ruin it.

His and Mor’s friendship was barely a friendship anymore.

And Nesta… she couldn’t even look at him since he pushed two of her friends away.

The rest of his family stood by his side, but his shadows informed him about the disapproving looks they gave him when he wasn’t looking.

The day they received word about the birth of the Autumn Court’s heir, he had enough. With one last look at Velaris he gathered his stuff and left. He wouldn’t wreck his family’s happiness anymore.

Y/n was standing next to the window of her room, her baby boy cuddled in her arms. Eris walked in hugging them both from behind and resting his head on her shoulder peeking down to the sleeping baby. Y/n stared at the winged boy in her arms, so perfect. He looked like his father but had inherited her wings making both Eris and her happy but anxious too since they knew that he would be considered a half breed for the rest of his life. “Everything is going to be okay, I will never let anyone hurt you two” Eris whispered noticing his wife’s worried gaze.

They heard the flapping of wings and both tensed looking outside. Y/n saw him first and with a soft smile on her face she walked to the balcony, Eris following close behind.

“I don’t want to cause trouble, I just needed to speak with you” Azriel said and stared at his feet.

Eris looked at his wife and when she nodded, he walked back inside giving them space. Azriel moved his gaze to the sleeping baby.

“He is beautiful” he whispered as tears filled his eyes.

“Do you want to hold him?” Y/n asked him with a genuine smile on her face.

Azriel stared at his palms, could he hold something so precious in his scarred hands? He shook his head hiding his palms behind his back.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m sorry for everything, you didn’t deserve it”

“I know… but thank you because without you I wouldn’t leave the day court and I wouldn’t find Eris” y/n responded. Azriel’s shadows reached for her and he noticed that her own shadows weren’t there. “You shadows aren’t here” Azriel noted.

“I’m happy I don’t need them anymore” she smiled.

“Goodbye y/n take care” he offered her a sad smile and before she could respond he was gone.

He was gone with the realization that in order for his shadows to disappear he needed to be happy. And then he knew that they would be his company until his last breath and then…then he would be happy.

Please don't hate me. Stay tuned for more. Currently I'm working on two more series and I'm planning to post one shots everyday so please send your requests to give me ideas. @cleverzonkwombatsludge

[ozwriterchick]

A Joe Burrow Story...

A/Note: My first RPF, well the first I've published. I normally write Marvel (Steve, Bucky, Sam) but decided to try my hand at something a little different.

I hope you like it, if you do, please like, reblog and leave me some feedback (kindly would be appreciated..)

Fic inspired by @burreaux-drys - thank you for your amazing writing, even if it is "all over the place"

I do not own the characters in this story except the OFC/OC characters mentioned.

I do not give permission for my work to be copied, translated or in any other way taken/stolen.

Characters: Joe Burrow; OFC!Reader; OC!Readers Best Friend; Mentions of other Bengal players; OC Bengal team members (kind of)

Warnings: Mentions of stalking; Shy reader; Police; that's about it except Joe Burrow I think deserves his own warning (in a good way); Not Beta'd so any mistakes are my own

W/C: 2748

Reader’s pov

I watched the players on the field, easily singling out the one I’d come to see.  It really wasn’t that difficult, he stood out with his mop of dirty blonde hair and the number 9 on his jersey.

My eyes roved down his body to his slim but manly hips and back up again to his broad shoulders, made even broader by the padding in his practice uniform.

He was looking good, but again, he always did, especially to me.  I’ve been in love with him for a while, always from afar, and he had no idea.  Maybe today would be the day I’d get up enough gumption to actually tell him.

This was a closed practice, but that never stopped me before.  There were plenty of ways to sneak into Paycor stadium, even when it was on lockdown, if you knew what you were doing.  And I did.

My phone buzzed in my pocket and I took my attention away from practice to check.

BFF: Where are you? I’m at your place

Me: Oh, I’m out running errands, sorry.

BFF: Tell the truth, you’re at practice ogling J again aren’t you?

Me: Maybe.. Maybe not.. I can neither confirm nor deny that accusation

BFF: Well then, I’ll join you, I need to see me some Sam.

Me: It’s almost over and it’s a closed practice today, so you won’t be able to get in.

BFF: Closed practice?

BFF: They don’t let anyone into closed practices, how did.. You know what, I dno’t want to know.  Let me know when you’re home. Unless you and J are doing something after practice

Me: Will do. Love you xx

BFF: Love you too xx

As you slipped your phone back into your pocket you realised that practice was over for the day.  You slunk back into the shadows as a couple of the players and officials looked up towards where you had been sitting.  Regardless of anything else, you shouldn’t have been there and you didn’t really want to get caught and banned.

Making your way back to your car you see a line of fans waiting for the players to come out of training.  You chuckle to yourself that they clearly don’t know the tricks that you did.

For a moment you contemplate joining them, you have something you want to give to Joe, but decide maybe next time would be a better option and you jump into the car and head home.

Later that day.. Back at Paycor Stadium - Joe’s pov

I have a stalker.  There’s no getting around it any more.

I’m sitting in Coach’s office with the cops and Zac, admitting for the first time that somebody is stalking me.  I knew it all along really, but just didn’t want to admit the ’s’ word to myself.  I figured it was just an overzealous fan and that it would be ok.

Things were left on my car at training, when I was at the gym, even when I was at the grocery store but today, I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

After practice I signed some autographs and took some pictures with the fans who’d j for me.  I love my fans and I love interacting with them - for the most part.  Every fan group has those ones who are a bit.. umm, crazier than others.  Fans that would do anything to get closer to their idols.  Not that I consider myself an idol, but I know with my position and public persona, that I’m as much a likely target for the crazies as anyone else.

“So, Joe” the Detective said “Tell us exactly what happened today to make you finally call us”

“Well, I left training and headed to the grocery store.  While I was there, I took a couple of pictures with some fans, nothing major.  When I came out to my car, there were flowers on the hood and something under the windscreen wipers.”

“And this is what was under the wipers?” The Detective asked, holding up the piece of paper that had been on my window.

I nodded, and continued.  “I didn’t really think a lot of it, I just grabbed the flowers and the note and tossed them into the front seat.  Once I got home though, I wasn’t quite so sure this was an innocent interaction.”

“And why do you say that?  Joe, if we are going to find this and make sure nothing happens, we need every piece of information you have.”

“Of course detective.  Well, I got home and parked in my garage and as I got out of the car, something just felt off.  The door between the garage and the house was open but I swear I closed it before I left.  I kinda shrugged it off at first, thinking maybe my Mum had been around, or the cleaner had come even though they weren’t due for a couple of days.”

“But that wasn’t the case?”

“Well, no, once I got inside I realised some things had been moved around and then I saw the note on my kitchen bench.”

“And this is the note you found inside your house?”

I couldn’t bring myself to look at it or read it again so I just nodded and looked down at my hands in my lap.

“Joe, we need to get ahead of this” Coach said. “Detective, do you think we should do a press conference and alert the public to keep an eye out?  I’m sure this person has been around training/practice and the stadium, probably coming to game days when we play here.”

“Let’s just wait it out for now, we don’t want to scare the stalker off and not be able to find them, or worse, have them escalate their behaviour into something dangerous.”

I feel like all I can do is nod, once again.  I just never pictured myself in this situation.

There was a knock on Zac’s office door and one of the admin staff came in with a folder and handed it to Zac, whispering something to him.  I saw his eyes go wide and then he looked down at the folder.

“Ummm, detective, we may have some more information that could shed some light on this case.  We video every practice/training session and these are some stills from today’s practice that might be very interesting.”

Zac hands the folder to the detective as I sit up a bit straighter in my chair, curious about what they could have found from today’s video, given it was a closed practice, meaning nobody was able to come in and watch.

The detective opened the folder and examined the pictures closely and then handed them to me.

“What am I looking at?” I asked.

“Apparently someone was in the bleachers today during practice.  Detective, this was a closed practice today which means that this person has snuck in and possibly could be the person you are looking for.”

I peered closer at the photos.  They were grainy, a bit blurry, you couldn’t really see who it was.  It did look like a female but who could really tell.  I’m sure the police had ways of making the image a bit sharper and maybe getting some identifying details.

The police thanked Zac and I and made their way out with suggestions to beef up my security at home and at the stadium and to also be very aware of my surroundings at all times.  They didn’t think, if this person who snuck into practice today was my stalker that they posed too much danger, but you never know.

I sat for a bit longer with Zac, talking out what was happening because the only other people I could talk to at the moment were my family and my teammates and I didn’t really want to worry either group until we knew more.

On the way home, I rang my security company who agreed to schedule more regular patrols around and near my place and also to ramp up the security footage around the outside of my home.

I hated that I have to do this but I guess my safety should be number one to me and I know my Mum would kill me if she knew about this and I didn’t take these extra precautions.  It all just felt so limiting.

1 week later - Reader’s pov

I haven’t been back to Paycor.  Almost getting caught in the stadium made me back off a little bit, I didn’t want to get into trouble and be banned from practice or games in general.

I’d been following Joe and the Bengals activity on social media but it just felt so impersonal, that I was itching to get back to practice.  Actually Joe didn’t seem very active on socials the past week and most of the Bengals feed had focused on Tee, Sam and a few of the other players.  All great players but Joe was their franchise player, the top QB in the league and they should be showcasing him whenever they can.

It made me wonder what had happened in the last week.  

After I left training I headed to the grocery store to get some supplies, as my best friend was coming over after work that night for a movie night.  As I was leaving I saw Joe entering the store.  I knew he shopped here but I had never actually run into him and I just smiled at him as I walked out of the store to my car.

He has a very distinctive car and it was parked next to mine so I took a moment to admire it before I loaded my bags into the back seat and headed home again.

Later that night when my friend arrived she had some very interesting news.

“Girl, Joe Burrow has a stalker!”

“What?  I mean, how do you know this?”

“I heard some of the detectives at work today talking about it.  Apparently someone left some things on his car at the grocery store this afternoon and after he got home, someone had broken into his house and left him some kind of note - I don’t know what it said but they are beefing up security at his house.  This is huge.”

“Why haven’t they said anything about it though?”

“Well, they probably don’t want the person escalating to even more dangerous behaviour, although they may be too late for that if whoever it is has already been inside his actual house.”

That conversation has stayed with me, to be honest.  I couldn’t imagine how scared Joe must have been to go to the police about it all.

Today I was heading back to practice.  This one was open but I thought I’d stay in the background anyway, amongst the other fans and not up front like I usually try to be.  Fate, as it seemed, had other plans.

As practice was finishing, a surge in the people there pushed me towards the side of the crowd, closer to where the players exited the field.  As Joe walked past he looked at me and smiled and did a double take.  Did he recognise me?  Is he curious of who I am?

I decided to make a quiet retreat and wait outside for him and hopefully get the balls to talk to him, or give him the gift I had for him.

A few of the players dribbled out of the stadium towards their cars, all stopping to sign autographs and take pictures with the fans.  

Joe’s pov

I walked out of the stadium towards my car and it always fascinates me how many people stay after practice to talk to, take photos with and get autographs from the players.  I still struggle to understand that some of them are here exclusively to see me.  

Given recent events however, it makes me more cautious as well, and I hate that because I love giving back to my fans.

As I went along the line of fans, I saw one at the back who looked kind of familiar.  I waved her over and said “Do I know you, you look very familiar?”

“Oh, umm, you don’t know me” she said quite shyly. “We bumped into each other at the grocery store last week.”

“Oh yeah, well it’s nice to meet you, did you want a picture?”

“Uh, sure” she replied and got her phone out.

We took a couple of selfies and then she quietly said “I have something for you” and as she reached into her bag I got really nervous.  Maybe this was my stalker.  Now that I think of it, she’s at training a lot, and yes I did see her at my grocery store just before that stuff was on my car.

I nervously looked around for security and mumbled some excuse about forgetting something and sprinted back into the stadium and straight to Zac’s office.

Reader’s pov

I can’t believe it, I finally got the time, opportunity and guts to talk to Joe and he ran off.  I started to put the drawing I’d done of him back in my backpack when I looked up and saw security coming towards me.

I quickly walked towards my car and managed to get in and drive away before they got to me.  I hope they didn’t catch my licence plate and haul me in for questioning.  Just my luck I’d get in trouble because of an innocent meeting at the grocery store.

Maybe this was my sign to just find a new hobby?

Another week later - Joe’s pov

Once again, I’m sitting in Coach’s office with the detectives who this time have some good news.

“We’ve made an arrest” the detective told us.

I breathed a sigh of relief that this was over “That was quick, how did you get a break so fast?”

“Well, it all came down to the fans.  Those at practice helped us out with some info, and your observations also  gave us some insight.  We tracked the person down and an arrest was made this morning.  We have some pretty tight proof, so you may not even have to testify, but if you do, we can probably put them away for a few years.  At the least, you can get a restraining order that prevents them from coming near your house, or the stadium, or generally within about 500metres of wherever you are.”

“Thanks detective, I'm so relieved” I said.  “Did they happen to say why they did it?”

“Just a big fan, a bit lonely and wanted to be closer to you but just went about it the wrong way.  Kinda feel sorry for them, but you know, we can’t let emotion into it, otherwise we’d never catch anyone.”

“Well, thanks again detective” Zac said “We are more than grateful for your speedy resolution to this issue.”

1 year later - Reader’s pov

I walked into the lounge room and smiled, I couldn’t believe I was here.  The misunderstanding from 12 months ago led to a beautiful friendship between me and Joe.  I got over all my nerves with him and we were now able to laugh and joke about the situation.

The police did clock my licence plate that day at training, and they did come to my house and question me about the stalking.  I didn’t hold anything against Joe for thinking it could be me, I was awkward and nervous and shy whenever he was around and he obviously just didn’t see my vulnerability.

But at the next training session, he saw me again and came to talk to me.  He asked me if he and I could have a conversation over coffee, so we went and he told me they’d arrested his stalker and he apologised profusely for thinking it could be me.

He said that when I’d told him I had something for him and reached into my bag, he freaked out and just left.

I laughed and told him that I’d drawn him a picture and I’d love for him to have it if he wanted it.

We chatted for a while longer and then went separate ways.  We’d swapped numbers so that I could arrange to give him the picture and we ended up texting back and forth most days.

I’m not sure if anything will come of this but a good friendship but you never know…

[storiesofsvu2-0]

Translucent

Alex Blake x reader Warnings: language, smut, teasing, masturbation, guided masturbation, sex toys, minor degradation, very brief choking. a/n: Covers a bingo square! and a req from @rustyzebra I’m gonna be posting from this blog either permanently or until the other one gets un-shadow banned. I don’t know why or how or how long that will take, my guess is that it’s got something to do with the community labels? That being said, this is under said label, so that this blog doesn’t get shadow banned. So make sure you have your settings set appropriate to see what you want and so you don’t miss any future stories. (Eta: apparently theres no winning. I post with a label, it wont show in the tags. I post without & risk getting shadowbanned. Hellsite.) Also if you see this and you’re writing for bingo, pls tag this account as the other one basically has no access anymore (hopefully temporarily).

Nobody was having a good time on this case and that was evident, everyone hyper focussed to make sure you could get the hell out of there and back home as fast as possible. The team had been back in DC less five hours when Hotch called to reroute everyone back to the jet, you’d only had time to toss laundry in and get ready for date night before it was time to grab you go bag. You changed on the jet, cursing yourself when you realized you’d forgotten to toss in what you called your work bra, at least your shirts were thick.

The grumpy moods continued as you deplaned in a small town in Texas, quickly jumping into the field to trace down a team of unsubs. You were in the field with Emily when you managed to apprehend the unsubs and when one of them jumped into lake with the hopes of getting away on the boat moored ten feet up you were the one that was a second faster. Your swimmer instincts taking over as you dove into the lake and caught up to them before they even realized you were in the water. Emily muttered something about owing you coffee for the next month and you made your way back to the local precinct, one unsub in tow. You’d left your vest on in an attempt to not get the chills on the way back, thankful that Emily had tuned on the heat in the SUV. Passing off the unsub to be processed the two of you crossed the building back to the meeting room you’d been using, joining JJ and Morgan.

“Woah, someone take a break for a swim?” Derek greeted with a tease and you shot him a glare, Emily answering for you.

“We’re lucky she did, unsubs in custody.”

“Our guy’s in the wind.” JJ replied with a sigh and the entire room felt the frustration sink in.

“You’ve got to be kidding.” You grumbled, half of your brain regretting diving into the lake, wondering if it had really been that worth it.

With a huff you ripped at the Velcro on your vest, pulling it off over your head to toss onto a spare chair. You could feel your clothes clinging to you, soaked with lake water, at the very least you were thankful you hadn’t been wearing jeans and that your make up was waterproof.

“So what’re we looking at?” You asked, crossing you arms over your chest and the conversation rerouted back to the case at hand. Everyone was more than eager to at least get back to the hotel for some rest and a solid lead would help that.

It was almost a full half hour later that Alex returned to the room from talking to a witness, Reid half a foot behind her. You had your back to the door as you updated the white board when Alex’s voice caught your attention and you capped the marker, turning around to them and Reid’s eyes widened, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Oh my god, y/n!” He was whipping off his FBI jacket instantly, moving to get it wrapped around you and at first you thought it was just because you were still drenched, but the smirk on Emily’s lips told you otherwise.

“What? I—” Glancing down you realized your misstep. Laundry day plus date night meant you were still in date night lingerie. Lingerie that was deep red, lacy, a hint of mesh that left very little to the imagination and thanks to your little dip earlier, completely visible to everyone in the room through your shirt. “Could’ve said something.” You scowled to the three who’d been there when you took off the vest, hands clutching at the jacket seams in an attempt to keep it closed.

“Didn’t wanna get in trouble for looking.” Derek muttered, his gaze on the file in front of him.

“Pretty sure I was with you when you bought that one.” Emily smirked in return and you rolled your eyes, glancing back to Alex.

Her head tilted, eyes flicking down you body, watching the way your shirt clung to your skin before she cocked a brow at you, her jaw hardening and you couldn’t help but gulp. While she always was a wonder with words, you were at the point in your relationship that you could communicate without them and she was making her point very clear right now. Alex could feel the arousal building deep within her already, annoyed that the case had taken away the opportunity to see you in whatever set matched the now very visible bra. Though, she wasn’t complaining about how erotic this was, on display for everyone to see. She felt the possessiveness surge through her, her eyes narrowing in your direction until you properly fixed the jacket so you were covered, you knew better, something like that was only for her to see.

You felt the heat creeping up the back of your neck, knowing exactly what Alex was thinking, that you were hers and only hers, even if the team didn’t know it. Daring to look her in the eye you felt your pulse quicken, knowing that she was thinking of all the dirty things she’d seen you do, all the dirty things she’d made you do and just how she was going to remind you who you belonged to later. You were aware that the conversation had picked back up in the conference room but there was no way you were hearing any of it, lost to the sinful imagination of one Alex Blake. Suddenly, Emily swatted at you with a folder and you were pulled out of your dirty thoughts, glancing toward her.

“What?”

“I said go back to the hotel. You jumped in a lake, you caught an unsub, I think you deserve a shower and a change of clothes, we won’t be much longer.”

“Yeah… thanks.” You nodded at her before crossing through the room and Alex’s eyes didn’t leave your body once, her lips pursed tight.

*

By the time you were warmed up, out of the shower and wrapped in a surprisingly fluffy robe, Alex was already back in the hotel room waiting for you. She stood from the bed when the bathroom door opened, a smirk on her lips as she sauntered through the room toward you. Her finger curled under your chin, tilting your eyes up to her.

“You pulled quite the little stunt today sweetheart. Wearing that kind of lingerie to work?”

“I didn’t have time to change.” You countered.

“You changed on the jet.”

“I forgot to pack another bra.”

“Sounds like someone’s making excuses.” She tutted, pinching at your chin, “were you feeling like a naughty slut today? Did you want the entire team to see what you were wearing under your shirt, because I’m starting to think that you did. Be a little show off, let them know how much of a bad girl you are?”

“No ma’am.” You murmured, “it was an accident.”

“Hmm.” She surveyed you for a moment, “I’m not sure I believe you. I do know how much you like to make it all about you, how much you love putting on a good show when you bounce on my cock. So how about you take off that robe, get on the bed and be a good girl and spread your legs.”

Your hands swiftly undid the belt of the robe, letting it fall open and Alex’s eyes dragged down your naked body, darkening as they went, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. When you dropped the robe to the floor her finger and thumb pinched at your chin, rewarding you with a kiss, her lips moving gracefully against your own before she nudged you toward the bed.

You dropped onto it, shuffling upwards until you were comfortable among the pillows, looking down to Alex who simply arched a brow in return as she slipped out of her blazer. Trying not to gulp, you spread your legs for her, opening yourself up to her burning gaze.

“How long were you in that room with your vest off? Hmm?”

“Not sure…” you could feel your breath picking up already with just her eyes on you, wondering exactly what she had planned. She frowned in your direction, hands moving down the center of her shirt as she undid the buttons, “maybe… half hour?”

“Well, then you’ve got half an hour to kill.” She shrugged, adding the folded shirt to the pile on the other bed, “better get yourself warmed up since you were in the mood to show off.”

It was only after a small nod from her, confirming that she was okay with you touching that your hand slid down your body slowly. You kept your eyes trained on Alex as she pulled a chair to the foot of the bed, pausing to strip out of her pants before she took a seat in it, her gaze landing between your legs.

“Timer doesn’t start until you do sweetheart.” She smirked and you let out a breath, your head falling back into the pillows.

Half an hour was going to be torture and you knew it, then again, that was the point wasn’t it? Your hand snuck between your legs, making sure they were nice and wide for Alex to see what you were doing. Your fingers brushed against your clit, slowly beginning to rub at it in small circles.

“That’s my good girl.” Alex cooed from the end of the bed, soft grin on her cheeks as her eyes darkened.

You took a deep breath, knowing that your time had just started, your fingers slipped down to your cunt, gathering some of your wetness and bringing it back up to your clit, continuing to rub at it slowly. Your breath hitched, your hips gently rocking toward the touch and you heard Alex chuckle. You continued on like that, wanting to drag it out as long as possible to kill the time until you uncontrollably moaned, your hips rocking up off the bed.

“I can see you glistening from here.” Alex mused, “why don’t you see how wet you really are? My dirty girl…”

“Please?” You whined, your eyes cracking open to look down at her with a pout on your lips and she laughed.

“Oh sweet girl, it’s only been four minutes.”

“But—”

“Ah!” She scolded, “did you want me to restart the timer?”

“No ma’am.” You pouted, your hands returning to your body.

One groped at your chest, pinching your nipple between your finger and thumb, repeating the action on both sides until both were hard peaks. Your other hand slunk between your legs again, heel of your hand brushing on your clit and you whined before slipping two fingers into your wet cunt.

“Oh god…” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s my girl.” She praised with a happy hum.

Your fingers began thrusting into your cunt, pulling out more wetness with each pump of your hand, slow and steady, ready to wait out the clock Alex had set. Your breathing picked up, little whines and whimpers leaving your lips as you felt the heat begin to build deep within your body. You shivered when the tips of your fingers briefly brushed across the sensitive spot of your walls, a moan leaving you and Alex hummed again.

“Why don’t you try that move again? I know how good it must feel.”

Knowing better than to defy Alex’s requests at this point your fingers sunk back in, curling right where you knew it would feel incredible and you let out a moan.

“Fuck…”

“There you go. That feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Yes.” You moaned, unable to control yourself as your fingers curled again, brushing against the spot and you pressed harder, your breath catching in your throat.  Your hips rocked up off the bed and you could feel yourself getting wetter, juices starting to dribble out of you as you picked up the pace.

“You may come darling.” Alex purred, “but if you do that doesn’t mean you’re done, you still have seventeen minutes.”

“S..so good..” You moaned, fingers thrusting deeper into you with each flick of your wrist, you were so incredibly close, your pussy fluttering around your fingers. It was never going to be enough, you knew that, but at least for the time being you could sit on the edge of the peak, hoping that there was a chance you’d be able to fall over it. Your noises were getting louder, including the wet sounds coming from your pussy, juices coating your fingers and slipping down to your wrist. Your free hand moved back to your chest, pinching at your nipples again in hopes that it would help you see stars. At this point you were scarcely aware of the sound of movement from the foot of the bed until Alex let out a breathy moan and your eyes shot open.

She had her legs spread in the chair, her hand in her underwear as it moved lazily underneath the fabric, when your breath caught in your throat her eyes cracked open, a grin on her cheeks as she noticed you watching, your own hand stilled.

“What can I say? I like what I see.” She smirked, “and look at what you’re doing to me already?” She sighed, her eyes closing briefly and you could hear her wetness as she slipped a finger into her pussy.

“Fuck…”

“Keep going sweetheart.” She nodded at you, “how about you spread that pussy nice and open for me, let me see how gorgeous you are?”

“Yes ma’am.” Your fingers slid out, your palm rubbing at your cunt briefly as you ground down on it, letting out a small moan before it slid up, fingers framing your pussy lips and pulling them apart. Alex let out a hum of approval, her mouth watering at the way it was absolutely shimmering in the low light of the hotel room.  

“So fucking gorgeous.” She groaned, “I’ll admit though, it does look prettier stuffed with my cock, don’t you think?”

“Yes!” You cried back in response and she chuckled.

“Shame. Your fingers will have to do. Twelve minutes left.”

You let out a whine but slipped your fingers back into your pulsing cunt, eyes scrunching shut as you began to fuck yourself again.

Alex sighed softly, the tips of her fingers grazing her g-spot right as you let out a moan and she pulled her fingers out, returning to lazily rubbing her clit while she watched the way your body trembled every so often. You were absolutely soaking, practically every thrust of your hand pulled a whimper from your mouth and if she wasn’t so heart set on punishing you she would’ve wanted to devour you in that moment. You always looked so fucking hot for her, but especially when you were fucking yourself, imagining that it was her fingers thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy. Her teeth sunk into her lip when her fingers pressed harder onto her clit and with a soft moan her fingers slipped back into her pussy.

“Are you close sweetheart?” She asked, her voice low and husky, words split by breathy sighs.

“Need more.” You whined in response and she chuckled darkly, the laugh morphing into a moan as her fingers curled inside her cunt.

“Just keep going.” She urged, feeling the heat building within her, she resisted the urge to let her eyes close, staying focussed on the movement between your legs instead, groaning at the sounds coming from you as you fucked yourself faster. The heel of her hand began to grind against her clit with each thrust of her fingers and she arched forward, her thighs tensing as she cried out, her orgasm hitting her.

The sound was almost enough to get you where you wanted… almost. Instead you were left letting out a frustrated whine, pulling your fingers from you with an annoyed huff.

“Please!”

“Please, what?” Alex asked, cocking a brow in your direction.

“Need more.” You grumbled and she glanced to the clock.

“Nine minutes left darling, then I’ll touch you.”

“What about a toy?” You pouted.

“I didn’t happen to bring one of those.” She shrugged, watching you carefully and she caught the way your eyes looked toward your go bag, lingering on it for a moment as you tugged your lip into your mouth. Her head tilted in curiosity and it was when she stood that your eyes darted back to her.

The blush crept up your cheeks as you watched her silently move through the room to the bag. She swiftly unzipped it, her hands sifting through its contents until she found what she was looking for, revealing the double sided dildo and she looked toward you with a brow raised.

“Really? You have the time to pack this, but not an appropriate bra?” Her voice hardened slightly, in a tone that you knew was practically a tease and you resisted covering your face with your hands. “I almost think I shouldn’t let you use it.”

“No! Please!” You cried out, tears of frustration pooling into your eyes, “I need it. Or you.” You pouted, and Alex’s face softened.

“Oh you sweet thing.” Grinning she approached the foot of the bed, “you’ve become so spoiled you can’t make yourself come anymore, is that it?” You nodded, your cheeks feeling hotter than any part of your body as you admitted it. You started to shift to close your legs, suddenly feeling very exposed but Alex’s free hand closed around your ankle.

“Ah.” She tutted, “absolutely none of that. You don’t get to act like an exhibitionist all day just to play shy now.” She dropped the toy on the bed beside your hand, “eight minutes left. You best make the most of it.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, your hand darting out for the toy, picking it up. You watched for a moment as Alex’s eyes darted from it to your lips and you smiled coyly at her.

Instead of instantly bringing it to your fluttering pussy, you brought the larger end of the toy to your lips, easily wrapping around it, moaning as you sunk it into your mouth. You sucked hard, tongue swirling around it’s girth until drool was practically leaking out of your lips and Alex’s breath was catching in her throat at the sight. Pulling it from your mouth with a pop you let out a gasp of breath, quickly moving the toy to your cunt.

“Seven…” Alex stated, her hands closed around your calves, spreading them as wide as she could on the bed, kneeling between them as she watched the way you slid the dildo into you with a satisfied moan.

You were finally stretched out, finally feeling Alex’s fingers on your skin and you almost felt like you could burst.

“Fuck…” You groaned, feeling your cunt pulse around the toy as you fucked it deeper into you, aching to hit your peak. Your head dropped back into the pillows as your eyes scrunched shut, your thighs slowly starting to shake with each push of the toy.

“So pretty when you fuck yourself darling. I should make you do this more often.” Alex cooed, her hands suddenly left your body but you were too far gone to care, not realizing she was ridding herself of her bra, beginning to cup at her chest. “be louder for me, how does that feel?”

“So good… fuck!” You panted, fire burning just under your skin, “but need more…”

“Dirty girl…” she chuckled, “what ever shall we do with you?” You felt her weight shift from the bed and your eyes cracked open, a frustrated whine escaping your lips once more as your hand nearly stilled between your legs, stalling your orgasm once more.

“Just wanna come…”

“I know sweet girl.” She squeezed at your leg before her hands slipped into the waist band of her panties and she pulled them down your leg, “but that toy has double uses… you’re going to come while riding my cock, understand?”

“Yes!” You practically shrieked, earning a laugh from Alex as she crawled over you.

You let out a very satisfied moan as she leant over you, capturing your lips in a heated kiss, her tongue surging into your mouth to silence your noises. Her skin was hot on yours, rubbing against your aching nipples, her hands ghosting up your sides, leaving goosebumps in their paths. Her teeth sunk into your lip and you whimpered, your hips rocking up toward her, the toy brushed her pussy and she broke the kiss with a breathy gasp.

“Oh that does feel good.” She husked, smirking down at you before her lips attacked your neck, kissing at the supple skin before her teeth bit down hard and you gasped. “Need to leave a mark sweetheart. A nice big one if I have my way.” Her tongue swiped over your skin, “make sure the entire team knows that you really are a little dirty girl, that it’s not all for show. Because you’re not a tease, now are you?”

“N..no.” You moaned, your pussy clenching around the toy when her teeth sunk into your skin, her mouth sucking the crook of your neck and you could feel yourself building back toward your peak.

As if Alex could sense it, she bit your neck again, tongue darting out to soothe the burn when you hissed in pain, kissing the spot softly before her and snuck between your bodies to line the toy up with her cunt. She let out a low moan as she sunk down onto it, and you mewled when the base between the two sides bumped at your clit once she was fully seated. She firmly wrapped her arms around your waist, holding you tight to her and rolled over, pulling you on top of her. Alex kissed you, tongue swiping into your mouth once more before she pulled back, pushing at your shoulders with a wild gleam in her eye.

“Well, go ahead. Make yourself come all over my cock like the good dirty girl you are.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You braced your hands on her waist, raising your hips up to begin to bounce on her cock, breathless moans leaving your lips with each time your hips met hers, the toy pressing against your clit with each thrust. Alex’s hands slid up your thighs, her touch sending sparks flying through your body, she groped at your ass, squeezing you, urging you to ride her harder, faster, making the toy move within her more, the base rubbing her clit just as she wanted.

“Feels good,” she panted, “doesn’t it sweetheart?”

“S- soo good.” You whined back, “m’ so close…” With each pump of your hips her cock grazed right over the sensitive spot in your pussy, your walls pulsing around it, juices slicking it with wet. The coil in the pit of your stomach returned fire prickling under your skin and heat soared through you. “Oh god… oh god…”

“That’s it… come for me sweet girl.” Alex cooed, one of her hands slid up your body, fingers delicately wrapping around your neck, thumb nail pressing into the mark she’d left earlier and you gasped.

Your hips began to move more erratically as you chased your release, feeling yourself right on the brink. You were about to open your lips to beg, but Alex could always read you like a book, her free hand moving between your legs where she began to rub circles on your throbbing clit. Electricity shot through you and you cried out, your eyes scrunching shut as white took over your vision, your body trembled, thighs shaking uncontrollably as you finally hit your high. Your hands dug into Alex’s sides, nails scratching at her skin while you shuddered, your hips stilling when she finally let up on your clit.

“Good girl.” She purred, letting go of your throat, her hands rubbing up and down your sides, guiding you to gently drop over her, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “Always so gorgeous.” She pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, fingers tracing patterns on your back while you slowly came back to earth to catch your breath. “You feel better now sweetheart?”

“Yes.” You murmured, lips brushing against her skin and she gently hoisted you off her, tossing the toy to the bedside table to be dealt with later.

“You think you’ve learnt your lesson? No more showing off what’s mine to everyone else, right?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded and Alex smiled.

“Good.”

She couldn’t help but smirk at the already purpling mark in the crook of your neck, it was high enough she knew you wouldn’t be able to cover it tomorrow. Even if you got slightly embarrassed, there would be no mistaking by anyone on the team, you were very much spoken for.

_____________

@svulife-rl @clarawatson @hbkpop @momlifebehard @alexusonfire @itisdoctortoyousir @temilyrights @alexxavicry @leelizzzle @evilregal2002 2 @alcabots @ladysc @dextur @augustvandyne @supercriminalbean @lex13cm @prentiss-theorem @happenstnces @whiteberryx @heidss @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @allyofcl @desperate-gay @amypoehlfey @overtrred28 @emobabeyy @1974-sp @theclassicgaycousin @kalixxa @leftoverenvy @bigolgay @daddy-heather-dunbar @regalmilfs4me

[clairesvalentine]

Could you do something with fem!reader and Syzoth where he walks into her playing an original song on the guitar?

The songs I’m imagining for this scenario is “Can’t Catch Me Now” by Olivia Rodrigo and “Lost in Silence” by Marcus Skeen…

SYZOTH AND MUSICIAN!READER

🦎 syzoth x fem!reader

PROMPT: syzoth walks in on the reader singing an original song.

I LOVEEEEE THIS SONG!! can’t catch me now was the reason i made the mileena one shot! anyways, i hope you enjoy this one and thank you for requesting again!! I also learned how to make the text a bit smaller so it fits my aesthetic. it's a good day fr 😹🙏🏼

— syzoth had been lurking around the kingdom's village for a while now. after the events that occurred, he was now appointed by mileena as her emissary to the zaterrans. he was honored yet overwhelmed. he wanted to do well for his kind. in their history of hardships, he wouldn't want them to endure any more pain than they already have.

— after being banned from the village for an extended period, he found joy in wandering aimlessly around the village. observing the citizens engage and witnessing their daily routines brought him a sense of comfort. his people were able to live amongst them and that meant the world to him.

— he spent most of his time in the tavern. he enjoyed seeing outworlders getting together to enjoy a drink or two. it bought him some comfort. besides, if he made it at a certain time, he was able to see the performers.

— while making his way to his usual table, he heard an unfamiliar melody. he was accustomed to hearing a plethora of songs, most of them folk tales sung by the people. he had never really encountered anything new—which wasn't a problem for him, but this caught his attention.

— you sat in the backroom, humming softly as you strung your guitar. you had been near and far from outworld, being back home was something so surreal to you. you had lived in this village all your life, adventuring around outworld was not an easy task. though your family had advised you not to, it was something you wanted to do. you sang in many different taverns, near and far yet you never got tired of traveling.

— however, this time you had to come home. your mother was very sick and she needed all of her children there. throughout the day, you would tend to your mother whilst taking care of your childhood home simultaneously. though you loved your mother and wanted her to get better, it was all so mentally draining to you. with the loss of your dad a few years prior, it made things so much harder.

— so, you and your siblings made a compromise. you and your brother would watch your mother during the day, while the others took over at night. this was perfect for you. this was your chance to try new material to the drunkards at the tavern.

— syzoth followed the melody, stopping by the door once he spotted you. you sat on a wooden chair, your music sheet on the stool beside you. he couldn't describe it but the melody you were playing was just something so fresh to him. one he had never heard before.

— "there's blood on the side of the mountain. there’s writing all over the wall. shadows of us are still dancin'. in every room and every hall." you closed your eyes as you sang, almost as if the melody ran right to your core.

— that's what syzoth found most captivating about the song. the way you were able to feel the music as you sang.

— trying not to startle you, syzoth equips his invisibility skill to quietly enter the room. he listened to you sing, admiring how much passion you had. he thoroughly enjoyed the lyrics being sung. he could tell you had so many compelling stories to tell, just from your writing alone.

— once you finished your song, syzoth couldn’t help but applaud. the song was absolutely stunning and your voice was so smooth. syzoth truly admired you. his invisibility wore off, unknowingly.

— you let out a scream, clutching your guitar close to your chest. you thought you were alone! you were supposed to be the only one back here! you swore this was some sort of attack.

— syzoth’s eyes widened once he realized you could see him. “i’m sorry! i did not mean to startle you! i was just—“

— “don’t hurt me! please! i’ll give you anything, just don’t hurt me!” you begged, holding your guitar tighter.

— “no no, you gave it all wrong. i overheard you playing and i wanted to watch you.” syzoth explained. you relaxed a bit, loosening the grip on your guitar.

— “so why were you invisible?” you questioned, still not completely trusting this stranger. you grabbed your song sheet from the stool you were using.

— “i did not want to startle you. you seemed at peace and i did not want to disturb you.” syzoth explained, having a seat on the stool. “this song you were singing, it’s one that hasn’t been sung here before.” he commented.

— you smiled lightly, leaning back in your seat. not a lot of people paid you any mind when it came to your new material. people just liked hearing the same old folk songs they heard before. no one was really interested in anything new.

— “it’s new. i wrote it amidst of the battle between realms.” you explained. “i wasn’t necessarily here when it happened but i felt it’s effects.” you shared. “i am glad you enjoyed my song though. the drunkards here don’t like anything new or fresh.” you half joked.

— you and syzoth spoke for a while, mostly about music. syzoth was just curious about what you did. did you only write music? was this your job? how did one create melodies as ear wormy as yours?

— syzoth listened to you, enthralled with everything you said. composing music was such a complicated yet interesting concept. he learned that wrote many songs that didn’t get played. some because the tavern wouldn’t let you play them, and others because you simply weren’t interested or confident in performing them.

— an idea popped into syzoth’s head. “you can perform for the empress!” he chirped. “empress mileena loves a good performance. perhaps you could sing your songs at one of her big events.” he suggested.

— though intrigued, you weren’t able to wrap your head around this. sing for the empress? that seemed too good of a deal. you weren’t so sure about this man’s offer, though he did seem genuine. he was the only one to actually listen to you as well…

— “sounds too good of a deal. how do i know this isn’t a scam? or a trick for that matter?” you asked, quirking an eyebrow at the zaterran.

— “because i would never leave anyone astray unwillingly.” syzoth replied, gently taking your free hand in his.

— you looked down at your hands, a small blush crawling onto his cheeks. “when should i be ready?” you asked, an playful grin on your face.

— syzoth smiled. everyone was going to hear your music now. he was going to make sure of it.

[imtooscaredforthis]

Tethered

Part III- Chapter Thirty Six: Tethered

Mentions of: Angst, Break ups, Murder, But a happy ending!

A/N: Yeah, we’re finally at the end!! I hope you enjoyed! I’m shadow banned on my main acc so I rlly hope this post shows up 😭

Tags: @prettycutebunny @dead-bxxxtch-walking @mama-miya @vandeaad @moonshineinasippycup

There was something peaceful about Mount Ormond when you woke up. There were no howling winds that would beat against the glass or make the walls shake. It was calm. You moved your hand to the opposite side of the bed, reaching over for Frank, but feeling nothing but the sheets. You sat up and undid the bandages around your waist, noticing that your wound had healed and was gone completely. It was like it had never happened.

After grabbing a shirt and slipping it on, you got to your feet and stretched. You hadn’t left that bed in days. Of course, most of the time you were close to death, so it was warranted.

You peered out the door, gazing down the hallway. No one was there. However, you heard voices coming from downstairs. You crept down the hall, following the voices, your bare feet padding against the plush carpet.

When you reached the end of the hall, you peered over the railing, spotting Frank and Julie downstairs in the living room.

“You said we were soulmates. That we were meant to be-”

“I know what I said, Julie, but I don’t feel that way about you anymore.”

“What, because of her?”

“Yes! I’ve loved her for years. Ever since we were kids. The things we went through. She never gave up on me, and she still doesn’t, not even now, when she knows what I- when she knows what we did. I’ve always loved her, and I always will.”

“But did you ever love me, Frank?” Her voice was soft and sad, the pain clear in it. A heavy guilt weighed on your shoulders.

“I…”

“Answer the question!”

“I don’t know, okay? I thought I did, but now I- I don’t know.”

She scoffed, shaking her head at him. “That’s what I thought.”

With that, she turned on her heel and stormed off. Frank groaned, hiding his face in his hands.

“Hey.” You were so quiet that Frank almost didn’t hear you. He looked over his shoulder, spotting you walking down the stairs, going to join him in the lobby/living room area. He offered you a weak smile. “Hey.”

You sat beside him on the couch, taking his hand, holding it gently. “Tell me you didn’t hear that conversation?”

“I did..I feel awful. I’m sorry for her, and I’m sorry I put you in this situation.” You squeezed his hand. He squeezed it back, reaching it over and pressing a kiss to the back of your palm.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine.”

“Don’t blame yourself-”

“No, (y/n). It is. I should’ve told her sooner. I should’ve known. All that time we were apart, I knew. But I did everything to convince myself I didn’t..And what I did. I don’t regret killing that guy, but I do regret making the others kill him with me. I dragged them all here with me, and we’ll always be here now.”

“Do you think..Do you think you’d still be together if I wasn’t here?” You couldn’t help but ask.

He was silent for a moment, before he spoke again. “There’s something I have to show you.”

He went back up to his room, and he returned with the notebook. The one you had given him all those years ago. He handed it to you.

“You kept it?” You opened it, seeing that first note you had written him.

“Well, The Entity did. I had thrown it out, but The Entity kept all the notes I had written to you. I guess she knew how important it was to me.” He admitted.

You smiled softly, flipping through the pages and seeing how many letters he had written. “So you really did write the letters, huh? Did they help?”

“...Sometimes. Read them.”

You flipped back to the front page, reading the first letter he had written you.

–

It hurts. It hurts too much. Why did you leave me (y/n)? Why did you abandon me, just like the others?

Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?

Tears welled up in your eyes as you stared down at the paper, clutching it tightly. “I’m so sorry Frank. I wish I knew-”

“Shh, shhh, it’s not your fault baby. I chose to leave. I had to deal with the consequences. I just- I missed you so much.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, wiping your tears and holding you close to him and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Can you keep reading for me?”

You nodded, taking a deep shaky breath and moving on to the next page.

–

“I don’t understand. On these pages, it says that you’ve moved on. That you’re happy with your group and your decisions.” You stared down at the last note.

He shook his head. “Do you think if I was happy with my choices, I would’ve written to you about it? All this time, I was thinking about you. Writing to you. And you know how much I hated school and writing. So no matter what front I put up, I was always thinking about you, caring about what you thought, what you’d do if you were there. Like I said before. I tried so hard to hate you, but I never could.”

He laughed softly. “And even when I thought it was over, when I thought I would be here forever, without you, The Entity brought you back to me. We’re stuck here together, for eternity. But there’s no one else I’d rather be stuck with than you.”

Your expression softened, and you smiled at him, letting him press his forehead against yours. “Yeah, you can never get rid of me now.”

“I’d never want to. I love you, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Frank.”

You leaned in, kissing him softly. After a few long moments, you pulled away.

“Are you sure your friends can handle us being together?”

“Yeah, I’m sure. I mean, Susie loves you, and Joey does too. I’m pretty sure he had a bit of a crush on you for a while.” He admitted, making you giggle.

“What about Julie?”

He sighed softly. “She’ll get over it eventually.”

You nodded solemnly. “It doesn’t matter, because no matter what I have you and we'll always be together.”

He cupped your cheek, kissing you again. But as he did, you felt yourself fade away, being pulled into a trial.

You let yourself get pulled, let the darkness overtake you, unafraid to face the fear, suffering and pain ahead. It didn’t matter. You had Frank and you knew, as long as you were with him, everything would be okay.

The End.