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softtdaisy · 2 days ago

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in the meantime / Aaron Hotchner

summary. when hotch gets hurt, you're called as his emergency contact. thing is, nobody knows you're not together anymore.

words count. 2 336

what to expect. a little angst I guess but fluff too, Jack is mentioned but he's a teen

a/n. I first imagined this very funny and light and I ended up adding more angst??? but it's still sweet and cute and hotch is a lover boy

F1 masterlist | general masterlist| request

When you got called at school, at first, you didn’t think it could be that moment you’ve been scared of for months finally happening.

Being a kindergarten teacher, it was easy to leave your class and ask for a colleague to take care of your children. They were all occupied with creating a new poster with their names and wouldn't even notice your absence. Well, you imagine they wouldn’t because you weren’t supposed to leave for too long.

“Do you know who’s asking for me?” you asked the principal’s assistant who came for you. He was one of your friends here, so you knew how to analyze his gesture. And from how fast he was walking right now, you could tell this was more serious than you first thought.

“Well, she’s a brunette, dressed in black.” He stopped in the middle of the hallway to think for a second. Trying hard to remember what her name could be. Thing was, you didn’t know that many brunettes, dressed in black that could authorize herself to come here. “I think her name is Emily or something like that.”

You stopped in the middle of the hallway, freezing.

You appreciated Emily. You would even call her a friend, even if you only knew her through Hotch. But you barely talked outside of the moment you spent together.

Getting a call from her would have been weird. Having her come to your school wasn’t normal at all.

Yet, here she was. Waiting in the principal’s office. Indeed, she was wearing an all-black outfit but mostly wearing a concerned expression on her face.

When you opened the door, she rushed to you, interrupting her conversation. Her hand was soon on your shoulder and her eyes were locked on yours. You found some comfort in it. The problem was, you had no idea why you needed it.

“What are you doing here, Emily?” you asked, whispering like it was some secret the rest of your colleagues or your superior didn’t need to know. Which was true, somehow. “Is everything alright?”

But you knew it wasn’t. And the three words that followed were the proof. “It’s Hotch.”

Your heart dropped, and the whole world went silent.

You’ve spent months afraid of hearing these words one day. Checking your phone multiple times a day, waiting for his text to make sure he was doing fine. There were moments when you would have the same nightmares of coming home to an empty house, sometimes with more graphic images you wished you could forget.

When Emily noticed you seemed to disconnect from reality, she put her other hand on your shoulder. “He’s ok,” she added.

“I don’t know how, but the unsub managed to stab him in the stomach. He lost a lot of blood and went to surgery, but he should be fine. Spencer told me he was waking up when he arrived here, you heard Emily explain, but her voice seemed like a distant melody.

You tried to focus on the good news, that Hotch was fine. As fine as he can be after an attack that probably woke up some trauma, but fine. Not dead. Not in danger. Fine.

You took a breath and nodded to accept the information you just got. And showing Emily that you listened, that you understood what she said.

It wasn’t until you managed to keep your stress as low as possible that the question popped up in your head. “You came all the way here to tell me?”

Emily looked at you with confusion.

“Well, you’re his girlfriend and his emergency contact. And you weren’t answering your phone. I thought it would be better to bring you to the hospital myself than let you learn about that later by yourself.”

That was the moment you understood why Emily chose to drive all the way here.

Hotch didn’t tell anyone you weren’t together anymore.

Dating Hotch was easy, more than people thought it was.

He was a great listener. He loved to hear you speak about everything in your life just as much as he loved paying attention to small details. Offering your favorite flowers, having your favorite artist in his car, and sending a text about important events at your job even when he was miles and miles away.

You could tell Hotch was working on the experience he got from his past relationship and all that he still had to learn to be a good partner for you. And he was doing a wonderful job on it.

This relationship did a lot of good for him too. With Jack being a teen and less with his dad, he finally felt like he had a new purpose to come back home. Hotch learned to love opening his door again. This time not being met by the silence. But by you, with some kind of reality TV on, reading a book on a sofa he almost forgot about before seeing you on it—not to mention the memories the both of you created on it. You made him feel loved. At his place but at every place in his life too.

For a year, you two have been the happiest and did everything to make this relationship work. Even the team noticed the change in Hotch’s personality. And after multiple drinks together, you started to call them friends too. You both loved the routine you created together.

But even with the brightest sun shining on your relationship, the truth was the stress was still there. His job was anxious, to you, but to him too. Having someone to care about in his life once again made Hotch concerned about losing you. He tended to be more protective after rough cases, sometimes leaning to some controlling behavior he hated as much as you did.

The disputes became more and more recurrent. And after another fight, you both decided that maybe you needed a moment away from each other to wonder if this was really worth it. You wanted Aaron Hotchner to be the love of your life; you really did. Just as he wanted to. But was it really the life you both wanted?

It was a hard month away from him; you won’t lie.

And knowing you almost lost him was even hard.

“Let’s go,” you finally replied. And the ride to the hospital was surprisingly calm.

The few times you saw Emily, you both kept chatting for hours to the point Hotch even laughed one day about fearing she might steal you from him. But this time, there were no words. Not only because of the stress, but also because you realized you were lying to your friend because of Hotch. You haven’t seen him in a month, having no idea about what his life might have been these past thirty days. And she was great at worming information out of you. So you would rather not say a thing instead of spilling a secret.

The whole drive to the hospital felt like a fever dream. And nothing could have prepared you for the overwhelming feeling you got when you opened the door. A mix of relief and stress.

Hotch was there, indeed. Underneath a white sheet that made his skin look even paler, with dark circles bigger than the last time you saw him and a tired expression that made you wish you could do anything to let him relax and rest for at least a month.

He was facing the window and only turned his head when he heard you coming in. And the confusion replaced the tiredness on his face. Yet, you still noticed the short smile that drew on his lips when he saw you. “What are you doing here?”

His tone was sweet. Sweeter than usual. No matter how down he was, Hotch took everything in him to make you feel welcome. He didn’t want you to question your presence here or to think he was questioning it. He was glad to see your face after the awful day he had. Yet, he was still wondering why you came. After a month apart, he thought you put him aside.

Deep down, Hotch had the feeling he was easy to forget. But you weren’t. You never felt his head or his heart.

You didn’t answer his question. You couldn’t even talk. You were just focused on the silhouette of the man that shared your life these past months, lying on this hospital bed, looking so fragile.

You walked to him, as close as you could. So close that your knees bumped in the bed without you realizing it. You couldn’t resist the need to brush his hair, putting away some strands that were on his forehead. His confused and drained eyes follow each one of your moves.

“Honey?” he asked again, reaching for your hand.

When you were together, not a day went by—except for those when he was away—where you wouldn’t hold hands. In the morning, when he was getting up, you tried to keep him with you a little longer. During breakfast, while he was drinking his coffee. When he said goodbye, kissing you before putting a kiss on your entangled hands. Or when you went to sleep, cuddling, with your hands on your stomach—or his, when he needed it after a rough day.

“You didn’t tell them we broke up,” you said in a low voice. It was the first time you said it out loud but also realized what it meant. And having Hotch in front of you, calling you by the nickname that followed you your whole relationship and caressing your hand with his thumb softly, helped see the truth behind that. “Emily came and picked me up because I’m your emergency contact, and I wasn’t answering my phone, and as your girlfriend, she assumed I needed to know. Because you didn’t tell anyone we weren’t together anymore.”

You finally landed your eyes on his, losing yourself in his baffled puppy look. “You’re right, I didn’t.” Hotch said. It was the first time since you came in that you noticed his voice was a little raspy. “And I’m glad it led you here.”

You could hear the sincerity in his voice, not that you doubted he meant it. Over a year, you’ve learned to recognize Hotch’s expression. Especially the way his face was always softer when he was with you. Or how his very stoic and linear mouth always curled up in a smile around you.

Still, you had one question on your tongue. “Why?”

“Why am I glad?” he replied with a giggle. One that was sadly followed by a grimace. You watched as Hotch brought his other hand to his stomach to ease the pain. The doctor told him that even with the medicine, it would take him multiple days to get better. And until the stitches were gone, he wasn’t allowed to go back on the field.

But suddenly, the idea of being stuck at his office or at home wasn’t as awful as it was when he first thought about it.

You sighed, focusing on his face rather than the wound he was clearly keeping hidden from you. “Why haven’t you told them?”

Hotch took a second to look at you. The answer was obvious to him, to the point that there wasn’t a question to begin with. Over this past month, there was not a moment where he thought he had to make things clearer about your situation. Sure, he was a very private man, yet he never lied about you. He just kept things as they were. “Because I didn’t want it to be over.”

Hotch sat up against the headboard and motioned to you to sit on the bed with him. He moved his legs to give you space. And the heat you felt when he held your hand tighter to help you reminded you of the obvious attraction you had for him. Even after he had a terrible day.

“Listen,” he started again with a tone that imposed on listening to him. That's not to say you weren't paying attention in the first place. “I know we made this decision together, and I respect it. And this month apart gave me the time to think about us.”

The first night coming home to an empty and silent house wasn’t easy for Hotch. He felt like he had failed again at keeping someone in his life. He hated that he lied to Jack, saying you had family obligations to explain your absence. He didn’t want his son to be disappointed about his dad's inability to maintain a great relationship.

And one day, Jack told him about a girl at school he had a crush on and everything he did to prove to her it was worth trying rather than giving up.

“I want to make things right with you.” Hotch pursued, bringing your hands to his chest. “Maybe I need to work on my perception of danger when it comes to you. And if so, I will do it. Because I want you.”

You always found it fascinating how his eyes often spoke louder than his words. And the look he was giving you right now was the best argument he could have found to prove you he meant it. Hotch loved you. And so did you.

When a smile started to grow on your lips, also a silent answer to his silent confession, you noticed his lips curved too. Hotch let go of your hand to bring his own to your neck and move your face closer to him. But you stopped right before your lips touched.

“Maybe you should just consider not getting hurt the next time we argue.” You whispered, which made him laugh.

“Right, I’ll think about that.” He replied before finally guiding you to his lips.

Hotch never stopped believing he would get you back. So maybe he was right about not telling anyone about the breakup.

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avelera · 3 days ago

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(Arcane Meta) The Hexcore was already controlling Viktor in S1

As a follow-up to my post about how the Hexcore's control over Viktor in S2 is probably best compared to the One Ring from Lord of the Rings, in that it magically amplifies desires but to what extent its manipulations could be confused with free will is very hard to determine, I wanted to offer this piece of comparison to Lord of the Rings as further evidence that Viktor is under some level of control from the Hexcore as early as S1.

I was fortunate enough to take a course on Tolkien's works in college and there's one point our professor made that stuck with me. He pointed out that Frodo was always doomed to fail at casting the One Ring into Mt. Doom because he was already unable to do so back at Bag End, before he'd even spent significant time with the Ring.

It's less apparent in the show than in the book, so here's the quote,

"To Frodo's astonishment and distress the wizard threw it suddenly into the middle of a glowing corner of the fire. Frodo gave a cry and groped for the tongs; but Gandalf held him back."

Though his time with the Ring has only barely just begun, already Frodo is distressed at the thought of harm coming to the Ring and is trying to save it, before he even stepped out his door. How then was he ever supposed to throw it into the fire of Mt. Doom after having spent months in close proximity to it?

Well, this moment reminds me rather strikingly of this one:

This is only S1, the corruption of the Hexcore has only spread to Viktor's hands and leg, but it has also just killed Sky right in front of Viktor. He has been weeping on the ground, mourning her when he then resolves to destroy it and rises up, brandishing the stool.

Unlike Frodo, who had no idea what the Ring was at that point and still was distressed by the idea of harm coming to it, Viktor just saw the Hexcore kill someone right in front of him. And yet, like Frodo, he can't bring himself to harm it.

The Hexcore then actually physically shies away from the stool, which is where I get the notion at least that it is sentient, and then because Viktor had the audacity to raise a hand to it and fail to follow through, it knocks him out like a light:

youtube

This is why Viktor has to beg Jayce to destroy the Hexcore, and even there he can barely get the words out, and he only makes this request while far away from the lab and the Hexcore.

I would argue that the reason he doesn't explain more to Jayce there is because he might even be unable to, even asking that much might have been a strain. Or, I'll admit, perhaps there's any number of human reasons he didn't, like shame and fear.

Shame and fear that is of course gone by the time the Hexcore has consumed him when he finally tells Jayce what happened to Sky.

I would argue that the look of hopelessness and disappointment on Viktor's face when he decides to leave Jayce isn't because of the weapons blueprints he might have spotted on the lab table. Or at least, it's not only that.

Personally, I see that as Viktor knowing that he was now so physically consumed by the Hexcore he had no hope at all of fighting it anymore. To quote Dr. Jekyll & Mr. Hyde, "I knew myself, at the first breath of this new life, to be more wicked, tenfold more wicked, sold a slave to my original evil..."

So when people ask why Viktor is suddenly going along with everything the Hexcore wants, when before he wanted to destroy it, I would argue this: because it was already infecting him in S1 and in S1 he realized this and begged Jayce to destroy it because he knew it could stop him from doing so already. But because he was unwilling, or unable, to tell Jayce more about why he wanted it destroyed, Jayce instead defied his very strange request and used it to save Viktor's life as they had originally planned.

From that point on, I would argue, Viktor is under the thrall of the Hexcore and is carrying out its virus-like desire to spread itself and grow. I mean, just look at him, it now has consumed nearly every part of his body except his face. By the end, it has taken that from him as well.

Viktor might still have his own intelligence on top of it, but how much is very much the topic of ongoing debate. For the man to say that there is always a choice to suddenly say that there is no choice, the man who tried to destroy the Hexcore now freely spreading its power, and who once lashed out at the very notion of the use of Hextech as weapons making his own army of apex Hextech robots and using the Hexclaw against Jayce, and who looks so horrified at what he has done once the Hexcore's shell has been broken off of him by Ekko's bomb and Jayce's revelations, I would argue that we should assume at least some level of control was overpowering Viktor for much of S2, and that is exactly the fate he was trying to avoid in S1.

#arcane #arcane meta #viktor arcane #the hexcore #hextech #Youtube

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pboogerswbb · 2 days ago

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SO IT GOES - chapter 11

Paige Bueckers x oc Warnings: language, sexual content (smut), uhh badly proofread Wordcount: 7.7K A/C: hii i know i know i promised this yesterday but i nearly had a panic attack so i couldn't, my bad. i'm good now! please enjoy this before paige's last game at XL :((

Before London

“So as everyone can see, here we have a list of statistics showing the viewership per video and definitely can see an increase from last year, content with Paige seems to do extremely well like we…”

Linda’s voice blends into the background sounds of cutlery and plates and chatter filling the dining hall. For some reason my boss thought an impromptu media team meeting was in order and showed up to College Park Center unannounced. She wanted to catch up on what sort of content attracted most viewership, and to evaluate what worked and what didn’t. I couldn’t have cared less - all I knew is I was doing a good job, fantastic even. I’m not sure why I had to sit through something I already knew just to have Linda reiterate it to me. It wasn’t like me to be resistant to a meeting, or to praise from my superior but I was far too distracted.

My eyes involuntarily keep travelling to the table on the far right where Paige was sitting with her teammates, voice echoing around the walls of the building. A sound I fear I might never get tired of. The blonde is leaning back on her chair, chugging water, biceps more prominent than usual after spending all morning in the weight room. I knew this because she had driven me to work, despite having time off saying she needed to lift. I knew it wasn’t in her schedule as I had, almost accidentally, memorised it. Still there she had been, outside my door with a hazelnut latte, always somehow the perfect temperature whenever she brought me my coffee order. I hated when it was too hot.

As if sensing me, her blue eyes shift from Arike to me, locking with my gaze. Immediately I blush, trying to hide the smirk growing onto my face. But I can’t, so I cover my mouth with my hand to hide it from the team, particularly Linda, Paige’s mouth twisting into a bright smile in response. Yet we don’t break eye contact, keeping our eyes on each other.

Linda had been surprisingly credulous to my claims of a migraine when I missed work just a couple days ago. Since the night the blonde turned my entire world on its head. I hadn’t been able to think of anything ever since except the weight of her lips on my skin, her eager touch and starved eyes. I had been craving her every second since we drove back to Dallas. I needed more. As much as it pained me to admit.

With a grin on her face, Paige grabs her phone and types for a while, my screen lighting up with a notification.

Paige

Did i say how beautiful you look today yet

I blush, tapping underneath the table.

You did. A few times in the car.

Matter of fact she had been repeating it between sentences, and almost crashed the car twice because of how badly she had been staring.

Gotta tell you again

Takin my breath away all the way from over there

Finest girl I swearrrrr

I can’t help but smile.

You look like you’re breathing fine 🙄

I lift my gaze, seeing the blonde rubbing her chest and looking at her phone with a smirk.

Trust me ma

What Linda doin here?

Some sort of unnecessary meeting, I’m not sure why.

What time you getting off work?

I have a couple things to do after this but if you’re done you can go home, I’ll take a cab.

Fuck no i’ll wait

I could do some stretchin

You should join me

I let out a silent chuckle, shaking my head to myself.

Paige!!

What??? Would be good for those tense muscles yk

Could think of sum other stuff to relax you too 😏😏

With a scoff I glance at the blonde who’s already looking with a playful, devilish grin. I look at her scoldingly, watching as she raises her brows and bites her lower lip to kill the smile before pointing at her phone, showing me she wants me to reply.

Why do I have an idea of what that might be?

Yeah?

“So what do you think Izara?” Linda asks, snapping me back to reality.

“Uhh… Of?” I murmur, placing my phone screen down onto the table, thighs burning with the memory of how good the blonde had made me feel just a few days before.

“Do you think we can reach our goal followers-wise or are we being too ambitious?”

I quickly pull myself together, though I’ve barely heard a word. “Certainly if we keep pumping out content every day.” I don’t actually even know what goal we’re talking about.

However, my answer satisfies Linda, her mouth twisting into a smile. “Excellent!”

“Excuse me,” I hum, getting up from the table to grab an extra bottle of water. Paige, who has been watching, does the same, unable to not take advantage of the opportunity to talk to me.

I feel a gentle bump on my arm, eyes immediately snapping to the girl who’s looking smug as I eye the bottles.

“Hey pretty girl,” she whispers, placing a hand on my lower back. I quickly glance back at the media team to make sure no one was looking. To my relief they’re all too busy leaning in to stare at Trey who’s showcasing our latest content on his phone.

“Hey you,” I reply, my voice soft, quiet so no one can hear. Paige stands behind me, eyes skimming the different bottles of drinks as if mulling over her decision on what to get. But I know better. She’s stalling to stay talking to me. We had barely had any time to spend alone, my mind too busy wrapped up with work, Paige spending every waking moment on the court trying to get her shot back.

“What are you doing tonight?” I ask, reaching over for the bottle and holding it in my hand. Paige thinks for a second, grabbing a bottle of gatorade. All I can do is stare at her hands, mesmerised. Perfect hands that made me feel so incredible.

“Uhh nothing, why?”

“I’m coming over.”

Paige’s ears turn red, as she clears her throat, the idea immediately getting the younger girl flustered.

“Y-Yeah okay Iz,” she whispers, voice trembling a little. The effect I have on the girl makes me smile. It pleased me to know I had so much power over her. Little did she know she held just as much power over me, I was just much better at hiding it. However, my cheeks turn a hint of pink thinking about the possibilities of what might happen once we get a moment alone.

“Okay Paige,” I smile, eyes stuck on her flushed face. “I’ll see you in a couple hours.”

Waiting a couple hours had turned out to be much harder than I had planned, the thought of Paige’s hands on my body enough to have me growing wet in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer to feel the younger girl on me. Paige had felt the same, which had led us to our current predicament, my back pushed against the door of the storage room, the girl kissing my neck feverishly as my hands roam her body. The door handle digs into my lower back painfully but I barely notice.

“Paige,” I whimper, but she silences me with a heated kiss, tongue slipping past my lips into my mouth. My kisses are needy, desperate, a quiet moan spilling out when Paige’s hand kneads my ass, my short skirt hiking up as she does.

“You’re so sexy ma,” the blonde groans, lips glistening as she pulls back to look at me. “Killing me in a skirt like that.”

“Wore it for you,” I tease. Paige melts, moaning just from my words.

My arms wrap around her shoulders as I pull her back into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss by her hair. The blonde groans, lifting my skirt to squeeze the bare skin underneath, eyes opening to see the purple silk panties I was wearing. I hadn’t been prepared for the first time we slept together the way I liked to be, but after a meeting with my wax lady and a vigorous exfoliation routine last night I was prepared for her, my skin silky and smooth all for her from my head to my toes.

“Look at that,” she whispers, pulling back enough to admire the underwear sitting against my golden skin. “Goddamn.”

“Want you,” I hum, looking at her with round, pleading eyes. Paige takes a deep breath through her nose, groaning as she throws her head back. I know I’m driving her insane.

“We can’t,” she mumbles, rubbing the bridge of her nose in frustration. I’m taken back, slightly embarrassed. I never thought she’d reject me.

“Why not?”

Paige notices the surprise in my face, her blue eyes widening. “No, I want to. So fucking bad, you got no idea baby,” she starts, looking me up and down.

“Then what’s the problem?” I ask, getting annoyed which in turn makes my brows furrow.

“Iz I can’t just keep sleeping with you,” she sighs. “You’re more than that. You deserve more.”

I shake my head, pulling Paige back in by her sweaty T-shirt. She kisses me softly, nuzzling her nose into mine.

“I don’t care. I want you,” I repeat, the ache between my thighs nearly unbearable.

“I care,” the girl whispers, resting her forehead on mine. “Need to take you out on a date before we… y’know.”

I’m surprised, my eyes fluttering open.

“Need to do this right Izzie,” she hums, kissing the top of my head. “Need to take you out before I do all the things I’ve been dying to do to you.”

I nearly collapse at her words, grateful for the strength of her grip on my hips.

“Oh,” I say, feeling the blonde pull my skirt back down hesitantly.

“Please, lemme treat you right ma,” she pleads, kissing both my cheeks softly. “Lemme take you out. Been dying to, ever since I saw you. Please.”

Taking a deep breath, I look at my reflection in the mirror once more. White shorts and a white oversized button up, both neatly pressed not a single wrinkle on them. I’ve really gotten tan here. I lean closer to add the signature diamond studs onto my ears, smoothing over the hair slicked back into a low bun. I check my nails one more time, making sure each one is short and filed up to my standards. No, not mine. Up to Izzie’s standards. I look good, I wanted everything to be perfect for her. For my gorgeous, perfect London girl.

I grab the huge bouquet of white lilies and head downstairs, toying with my silver chain as I knock on the door. I don’t remember the last time I had been nervous over a girl before Izzie. So much for my plans to stay celibate this season. Like clockwork, the door opens.

I feel breathless when I see her. She’s wearing a bronze coloured satin dress, the perfect contrast against her skin, with spaghetti straps and a slightly plunging neckline, her breasts on display just enough to make me wanna look for a little too long. The dress isn’t too tight, clinging to her curves in all the right places, the hem ending at her calves. Her skin glows from her arms decorated with gold bracelets, all the way down to her calves and feet, beautifully arched in matching sandals. Izzie looks stunning, glowing with the power of a hundred suns.

I let out a low whistle, unsure what to say. I feel flustered, nervous in front of her. It was as if I was seeing her for the first time all over again, two months ago in this same hallway.

“Whoa,” is all I can say, my palms sweating already.

Izzie giggles and then she does something I’ll never get over. She simply tilts her head, sharp eyes sparkling at me, slender fingers reaching over and fixing the collar of my shirt. And my knees nearly buckle.

“We don’t need to go out,” I mutter, leaning down to kiss the girl. But she tuts softly, pulling back and placing two fingers on my chin to stop me sternly.

“Lipgloss,” she grins, pushing my face back by my jaw playfully. “And yes we do, took me three hours to get ready.”

I can see that, every strand of her black hair carefully set in uniform waves running down her back. All I can do is stare at her, mouth open.

“Paige?” Izzie giggles.

“What?” I ask, cheeks bright red.

“The flowers?”

I glance down at the bouquet in my hand, handing them to the girl. “Oh yeah, these are for you,” I laugh awkwardly, nearly unable to look the girl in the eye.

“I love lilies,” she gleams, inhaling their scent and humming contentedly.

“I know, you told me,” I smile, stepping in as she turns her back on me to put the flowers in a vase. My eyes travel from her hair downwards to the curve of her ass just for a moment, fighting the urge to pull up the hem and dive between her legs. I quickly glance up, trying to keep myself in check. Date first. Be respectful.

“You remembered,” Izzie smiles to herself, setting the flowers onto her dining table. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

The girl turns to me, throwing her hands around my shoulders and kissing me lovingly.

“What about your lipgloss?” I mumble against her lips, one hand on her lower back, the other on her neck pulling her in.

“I’ll reapply,” she sighs. I loved the way she was, meticulous and disciplined. But my God did I adore the way she had loosened up around me, the way she seemed to have a newfound ease about her. How she arrived to work yesterday wearing pants and flats, giggling with her co-workers lightheartedly, the pearls of her laughter echoing around every room she entered.

“Shit,” I pull back from the kiss with a struggle. “I got us a car baby, we should go.”

Iz whines in a way that pulls at my heartstrings, her brows furrowing in desperation, tracing her fingers up and down my arms, squeezing my biceps that had grown exponentially during my time in the league.

“You look so gorgeous,” Izzie hums, smoothing over my collar one last time, leaning close and pressing a kiss onto my collarbone. My eyes flutter shut momentarily.

“C’mon,” I sigh. “If we don’t go now we ain’t ever gon leave.”

“Paige,” I gasp as she opens the car door for me and I realise where we are.

“What? You like?” The blonde grins, offering her hand to help me out and watching my face for approval. I step onto the pavement, wrapping my arm around hers as we walk into the building, the doorman letting us in with a polite smile. We step into the gorgeous, high-end restaurant, Paige smoothly letting the hostess know that we had arrived.

I had mentioned Monarch countless times in conversation, brought up how the customer from Dallas that left an irrevocable mark on me made me swear to dine there at least once in my life. It was on the pricier side, and I’d grown used to a certain lifestyle which my current pay couldn't maintain so I had been burning through my savings - it simply wasn’t in the budget. Except now, with this millionaire girl on my arm I suppose it did. Truthfully, I would’ve been happy with less. But I won’t lie that she really hit the nail on the head with this one. I mean she listened. Remembering my brother’s name, my favourite flower, now this? She really listened to me. I didn’t know it could be like this.

“Paige,” is all I can mutter out with a happy sigh, my mouth twisting to a smile. Paige tugs at her silver chain absentmindedly, her eyes flickering around the room before always landing back on me.

I slide myself into the booth, Paige following behind me, making me laugh.

“Paige, your plate is on that side,” I giggle, pointing to the set cutlery opposite of me.

“I’ll ask em to move it over here,” she mumbles, her arm snaking around my waist and pulling me close so my side presses into hers, the pressure of her thigh on mine.

“Isn’t that gonna look a little silly?” I chuckle, watching as Paige reaches over the table and moves her entire table arrangement next to mine. I blush, looking around hoping no one noticed. This was a nice place. I could tell it wasn’t the blonde’s scene. Something about that made this even more endearing. It was all for me.

“Ion care if it does, it’s too far from you,” she whines, entangling her fingers with mine underneath the table. My eyes land on her blue ones, her face only a few inches from me. Paige licks her lips, her gaze flickering to my lips. I feel a familiar ache between my thighs return just from the sheer proximity of the blonde, and the smell of her cologne.

“Wanna kiss you so bad right now,” she whispers, both our breathing growing heavy. I nod, wanting the same. But we both knew it was better not to. After Luka was traded out of Dallas Paige was one of the biggest athletes in the entire city. A household name easily. We weren’t just sneaking around behind Linda’s back, we had to keep this on the low from the whole world. It’s not like we had to talk about it - we both knew it.

“Gotta wait,” I hum, jumping slightly as the waiter interrupts the moment, looking to take our orders. Paige, in her American manner, orders multiple side dishes and salads for us to share, the table filled with Wagyu Carpaccio and Octopus. But the real star of the night is the lamb, which the customer made me swear to get if I ever ended up at Monarch.

“Oh my Gosh,” I groan quietly, letting the meat melt into my mouth. I smooth the napkin on my lap, the luxurious linen smooth underneath my palm. Taking a sip of my Merlot, I notice Paige beside me, cutting the gorgeous lamb into multiple bite-size pieces before putting the knife down and beginning to eat with the fork. I watch, astonished, amused and embarrassed at the same time.

“You are so American,” I laugh, swallowing the wine and covering my mouth. The younger girl turns to me, confused.

“Whatchu mean?” She giggles but I eye her plate, rolling my eyes.

“Can you not eat with a fork and a knife at the same time?” I ask, raising my brows. Paige huffs, though the small curl a the corner of her mouth tells me she’s basking in my slightly condescending tone, the scolding lilt of my voice.

“Guess you’ll have to teach me your fancy English ways huh?”

“Oh my Gosh,” I sigh amused.

“The fork is in the wrong handddd,” she complains, continuing to eat, fork on the right hand. I make a mental note to teach her table manners before she meets my parents. Then, realising that she never would, decide to stay quiet. This is just a fling, a summer romance at most. A rebound - it’s what I tell myself to ease the slight panic in my chest when I thought more about what the end of the season would bring, me going back home to London, leaving my American girl here. My one summer in Dallas, cruel and much too short. Just a few months is all we’d ever get. Against my nature, I try not to worry about it, hoving the anxiety to some deep, dark corner of my mind, under all the other things I didn’t want to deal with.

The moment I notice my glass is empty, the blonde is already reaching for the jug of water and pouring me some. I watch closely, heart fluttering with affection.

Dinner is amazing, a dream come true. The food, of course, delicious. But even better is the satisfied smile on the dark haired girl’s face. The way her eyes gleamed every time she looked at me. The sound of her sweet laughter whenever I did anything she redeemed “American”. The slightly condescending manner with which she corrected my table manners, praising me every time I did something right. Every cell in me wanted to please her. Hear more of her “good job” and “that’s it”. Feel the hand on my shoulder squeezing, affirming her words. I was ecstatic, even more so knowing that this was just the first of many dates. That I would get to take Izara out for years to come, hear her praises forever if I played my cards right. And I desperately wanted this to be forever. I know I was going way too fast. But I couldn’t help my mind from picturing her in a white dress, playing with our children, waiting for me at home after practice.

“I’m so full,” Izzie sighs, leaning back against the booth and rubbing up and down my arm affectionately. “You did so good with this darling.”

I melt, my eyes nearly rolling back at her praise, never mind the pet name.

“Lemme order you some dessert,” I nearly whine, my plate finished much earlier than Izara’s.

The girl leans over and checks the dessert menu, quickly skimming it over and scrunching her face.

“You too full baby?”

“Could we just go out and get some ice cream from a stand?” The girl asks, her green eyes fluttering at me. How could I ever say no?

“You sure? They got some nice dessert here. Fancy,” I ask, flipping the menu over in my hand. I wanted the girl to have whatever she wanted. I wanted to give her the entire world.

Izzie nods, placing her hand on my thigh. “Don’t want fancy, just want some ice cream.” I’m surprised, thinking the fancier the better. Maybe I was wrong.

The Dallas night is still as hot as the day, but there’s a pleasant breeze in place of the scorching sun from earlier. Izara looks even more beautiful in the glow of the city lights and under the twinkling night sky. I can’t tear my eyes away, nearly running into a pole from staring at her so much.

“Could I taste yours?” Izzie asks, handing me her chocolate ice cream cone. Wordlessly, without hesitation, I give her my strawberry cone, honestly ready to turn around and order five more of them for her.

I watch closely as Izara’s tongue darts out to taste the ice cream, a jolt running down my spine to my core, with dirty thoughts flooding my mind.

“Mmh, this is delicious,” she murmurs.

“Take it,” I say without hesitation. Izzie hums, accepting my offer quickly. Almost as if she expected it. Something about it drove me wild.

We walk around the city, hand in hand, easily blending in with the crowd, not worrying about familiar faces, making sure that with every turn I was walking on the street side, keeping her safe. I felt proud walking side by side with Izara, knowing that people walking by knew she was all mine. That I got a girl like this, far from my league. I wanted everyone to know that she’s mine - having to keep this hidden would turn out to be much harder than I imagined. Still, the idea of this being our little secret felt exciting.

The breeze and the ice cream cause goosebumps to form all over Izzie’s arms, a slight chill running through her. I curse myself in my head for not bringing a sweater, making a mental note to never go anywhere without one for her from now on.

“You ever miss London?” I ask, pulling her closer by her waist out of the way of someone walking by.

“No,” she quickly replies, surprisingly bluntly. I’m taken aback.

“Not at all?”

Izzie shakes her head. “Too many bad things in London.”

I immediately understand what she means. Jasper. At least the desperate phone calls had seemed to stop.

“You really don’t miss anything?”

The dark haired girl thinks for a while. “Well, I miss the chocolate. Nothing here tastes like Cadbury.”

We walk around, eager to finish the chocolate ice cream Iz ordered, but I slow down, trying to match the pace with which she’s eating out of politeness. My blue eyes roam her face, trying to memorise each little detail. Her dark, perfectly arched brows, long lashes darkened with mascara, plump lips with only a hint of the lipstick from earlier, fading from eating the ice cream. Her dark curls stick to her neck, desperate to escape the carefully shaped waves, golden necklace dangling at her collarbone. I reach over, my cold fingers making the girl jump when they adjust the clasp, dragging against her skin from the base of her neck to the back.

We come to a stop, Izara’s green eyes lined with black glimmering, her face turning different colors as ads flash red, blue, green on a screen by the sidewalk. The words spill from between my lips faster than I can think, let alone stop myself.

“I really like you Iz,” I murmur, looking into the girl’s eyes. “I mean, I think I’m fallin’ for you.”

Her breath hitches, eyes softening only for a moment, and then widening. With surprise? With panic? I’m not sure. I wouldn’t blame her. It wasn’t something you said on a first date. I wanted to smack the back of my own head for that. I quickly look up, in a momentary prayer hoping God would let me rewind just 20 seconds. But no one answers my request.

“Shit, I’m sorry if it’s too much. You don’t gotta say anything okay?” I tell Izzie, avoiding her gaze.

“It’s okay love,” she smiles, thumb brushing against my skin comfortingly. However, I see a hint of hesitation on her face. “But Paige I thi-”

“Look, let’s just forget I said that aight?” I ask, my chest aching, begging to God I didn’t just ruin this before it could even start.

“Paige,” Iz sighs, trying to comfort me. But I could tell she felt uneasy about something. “I think we just gotta remember that we need to be really careful about this, yeah?”

I sigh nodding. She’s right. “Yeah.”

“I mean the stakes aren't the same for you and me. If we get caught,” she starts, letting out a heavy breath. “I’ll be back in London in no time. You however would be completely fine.”

I nod, wanting the girl to know I was really hearing her out. “Gon be really careful okay?”

“No slip ups.”

“No ma’am,” I answer reassuringly.

“And you can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Not Arike, not Lou, no one. They can’t know.”

“I agree,” I tell the girl. “Look, I meant what I said. Whatever you want me to be I’mma be.”

The girl smiles, for a moment I think there’s a hint of sadness there, but it’s gone just as fast as it appeared. “Today’s been… amazing.”

I bite my lower lip, hand coming to her lower back just for a moment. There was nothing in this world that felt as good as hearing her praise. Maybe winning the national championship. Top two things I’ve ever experienced.

“Wanted it to be special for you, Iz,” I hum, blushing a little. Just as she’s about to answer, her phone rings.

“It’s Trey,” she murmurs. Of course it is. I can’t help but roll my eyes, watching as she raises the phone to her ear and answers. That’s how we walk back to the car, the girl next to me talking animatedly on the phone about whatever, my irritation growing with each moment. I knew they were friends. But everytime she giggled or laughed at whatever the man on the phone was saying, my jaw clenched and breathing grew heavier.

“Okay, Trey I really must go. I’ll see you in a couple days,” Izzie, who had been trying to politely end the call, says. I hear Trey’s defiant protests all the way from the driver’s seat, making me want to grab the girl’s phone and hang up for her.

Iz laughs politely at whatever he said. “Treeyy, I’ll talk to you about this at work okay? Alright, bye now.”

Finally, she hangs up.

“I’m so sorry, I thought it might be about work but he was just calling to explain about some sort of couch he was considering getting,” Iz chuckles, finally turning her gaze to me.I feel my annoyance settle down the moment her eyes land on me. Having her attention just had the effect of soothing me. Still, it bothered me that the girl was so oblivious to Trey’s obsession with her. I sigh, chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“What?” Izzie asks, noticing my irritation as we sit in the parked car.

“You know he likes you, right?”

Izara rolls her eyes. “Don’t start with that again.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.”

I turn to her, raising my brows. “You prolly don’t see it but I do. He’s always calling or texting you, following you around or tryna touch you. All the time. He obsessed, trust.”

Izzie scoffs, turning to me. “I think you’re just reading into it too much.”

I shake my head. “He likes you.”

She looks like she's about to get defensive, but then her face softens. “Well, even if he does, I don’t care.”

“You don’t?” I ask, my voice growing needy.

“No darling,” she hums quietly, reaching over and placing her dainty hand on mine. “I couldn’t care less about Trey.”

My heart flutters, the warmth in my chest spreading all over my body, chills forming underneath her touch. All the frustration and annoyance that had been growing are replaced with affection now that I feel reassured

“Yeah?” I ask carefully, nearly flinching at how whiny it comes out.

Izzie smiles, leaning over the center console and kissing my cheek. I catch a whiff of the pear and lavender notes of her perfume, my head spinning.

“Yeah.”

I lean over too, my lips finally crashing against hers, both hands holding her face gently like a baby bird, doing everything in my power not to disrupt her. Her lips taste like strawberries, and a hint of red wine from dinner. The wine had loosened Izzie up, her body turning into putty in the passenger seat just from one kiss.

Her hands wrap around my neck, scratching at the back of my neck to pull me impossibly closer. I groan, arousal growing quickly between my thighs. A passing car honks, reminding me of our surroundings and the fact that the windows were not tinted. At the sudden realisation, I pull back abruptly, wiping my lips.

Izzie looks breathless, cheeks flushed and lips parted and glossy.

You wanna come to mine, ma?” I ask, or rather plead. The thought of getting to bring her home after had been the only force to give me the strength to keep my hands to myself all night.

“Yes,” she simply exhales. I feel a thrill, pulling out of the parking lot and beginning to head towards our home, my hand never leaving her thigh, mind filled with the thoughts of lifting the skirt and diving into her.

My chest heaves as we climb the stairs, Izara’s heels tapping against the marble and echoing in the corridor. As I open the door, I let the dark-haired girl in, my heartbeat loud in my ears.

“Whoa,” she gasps. Stepping inside after her, I watch her face brighten as a trail of red rose petals on the floor leads all the way to the bedroom, just as I had set them before picking her up.

I step closer, pressing my front against her back, leaning down to kiss her neck as my hands find their position on her waist. I loved that even in heels she was a few inches shorter than me. Her body melts into me quickly, the curve of her ass pressing into my hips. The satin is smooth and cool under my fingertips, and her neck smells like her perfume and the fruity hair products she uses. Guava?

“You did this?” she asks, her voice gasping as my lips glide against her neck, feeling for her pulse under my kisses.

Finally, I find the steady beating on the side of her long neck, my lips wrapping around it and sucking. Izzie exhales softly, her hands finding mine at her waist.

“Mhmm,” I hum, nuzzling my nose into her ear before kissing it feverishly. I needed her so desperately, like I had been travelling the desert for days and finally found an oasis filled with fresh water and sweet fruit and cool shade. I’m surprised I’m even able to stand upright.

“Oh so you knew I’d be coming over? That’s how you see me?” Her voice is stern, sending a jolt through my body. It makes me want to get on my knees and apologize, repent.

“N-No baby, I mean I was hopin’ but I didn’t assume. Iz, I swear I don-”

I’m joking, Paige,” she laughs, craning her neck to look into my face, an amused smile on her lips. My cheeks turn red as I laugh at myself.

I walk the girl forward, following the rose petals into the bedroom. They reach the bed, the white sheets decorated with the flower petals as well. Izara looks around, a smile on her face. I feel the ache between my thighs grow knowing I had made her happy.

Before I can say anything, she flips around to face me, kissing me heatedly. Her mouth is wide open against mine, tongue circling mine and fingers digging into my shoulders.

“Lemme light the candles,” I hiss, furrowing my brows and trying to pull away. But Izzie pulls me in by my collar, kissing me again.

“Fuck the candles,” she murmurs and, to my surprise, walks me backward into the bed.

I crash onto my back, Izzie pushing me down by my chest. “Let me dim the lights,” she says, but I grab her hand.

“Please don’t,” I whisper, my brows furrowing. “Wanna see you baby.”

She hesitates for a moment, but I grab her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing it gently. “Please.”

Izzie pulls her hand back, convinced by the simple gesture, and reaches behind her back to her zipper. She unzips the dress far too slow, driving me insane. I wanted her now. So I whine, furrowing my brows and squirming on the bed, but the girl only shakes her head, slipping one strap off her shoulder. I nearly pass out.

“Patience,” Iz tells me, her voice low and gravelly. I can’t look away, wetting my lips with my tongue as I watch the second strap fall from her shoulder, the dress finally hitting the floor.

“Oh shit,” I murmur to myself, my boxers growing wetter and wetter the moment I realise she wasn’t wearing a bra at all, her body only covered with black lace panties. My gaze is stuck on her chest though, her round breasts covered in goosebumps. Breathing heavy, I sit up, mouth watering to wrap my lips around her hard nipple, to knead the skin.

“Nuh uh,” Izzie snaps, pushing me back down onto my back. I feel a thrill, surprised to find how much this turned me on. I was so used to being the one in charge, I didn’t even know how insanely hot it would be for the dark haired girl to be giving me commands. Though, in hindsight, I probably should have known from the way my core throbbed everytime she demanded something from me.

“Iz,” I groan, watching as her nimble fingers begin to unbutton my shirt, painfully slowly. I feel like I might pass out.

“Remember what I said baby,” she hums, straddling my hips, thighs becoming even thicker on both sides of me as she sits down on them. Izzie leans down, lips hovering over my ear, hot breath tickling it. “Patience,” she whispers, and then ghosts my skin, leaving me writhing.

Finally she pulls my shirt open, revealing the white sports bra underneath. Her long nail drags from my neck downwards, to my chest, and finally to the muscles of my abdomen.

“You’re so beautiful,” I whine, watching the way her eyes darken as she gazes down at me. My hands come to her hips, easily reaching over to knead her ass. To my relief, she lets me, exhaling heavily and throwing her head back as I feel her skin. My hands feel up her sides, to her breast, kneading them in each hand and bucking my hips to look for any relief on my soaked core.

My chest heaves vigorously, right hand dragging downwards, down the skin of her stomach, fingertips dipping into the band. I needed to feel her. Now. I was dying, and I needed to make sure she didn’t feel like I did, desperate and throbbing.

“No,” Iz says, grabbing my wrist. I look at her pleadingly, eyes nearly welling up at the thought of how wet she might be.

“Please,” I whine. “Ride my fingers ma.”

Izzie’s eyes flutter shut at this, but sternly, she shakes her head. leaning down to kiss me. It’s sloppy, our tongues meeting in heated movements, spit covering both our mouths. The girl on top of me continues her open mouthed kisses, finding her way from my neck downwards. It’s then I realise what she’s about to do, the puddle between my legs growing unbearable.

I maneuver upward on the bed, too wet to notice the nervousness in the girl’s eyes when she starts kissing along the band of my shorts, hands coming to pull them down.

“Fuck ma,” I whimper, my entire body shaking with need. I had been dreaming of this moment, spent many hours lying in my bed with my hand between my legs imagining what her green, sharp, catlike eyes would look watching up at me.

She leaves me in my boxers, nails digging into my inner thighs as she spreads my legs apart.

“Please,” I murmur, eyes fluttering shut from how badly my cunt is soaking through the white boxers.

“What’s wrong my love?” Izzie asks, voice so sweet it’s bordering on condescending as she leans down between my legs, kissing my thighs, biting the skin. The wine had made her bolder, more liberated. It drove me insane.

“Need you baby,” I whine, bucking my hips. It’s no use, the dark haired girl’s hands holding my body still.

“What do you need from me darling?” She asks, fingertips playing with the band of my boxers in a way that made me want to flip her over and take her this very moment.

“Shit,” I hiss to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead. “Baby please. touch me. Gon’ die if you don’t.”

“Yeah? You want my mouth?”

She’s pressing kisses on top of the soaked fabric of my boxers now, brushing lightly against my clit. I need more, so insanely bad. I feel like I might explode.

“Mhm,” I whimper, my voice shakier and needier than I liked - not that I cared much in this very moment.

“Tell me baby,” she smiles, looking up at my scrunched up face, slowly pulling down the last layer of fabric between her and where I needed her most.

“I-” I’m stuttering, overwhelmed, feeling like I might cum just purely from the sight. “Your mouth, mama, please.”

As I say the words, she pulls my boxers down, and begins to kiss around my wet cunt, everywhere but where I need her the most. Still, I’m moaning like crazy, knowing there must be a few concerned neighbours listening by now. I couldn’t care less.

Finally, the dark haired girl touches my clit, starting with small kitten licks.

“That’s it, holy shit,” I gasp, hands coming down to her hair, trying to maintain the urge to yank it wherever I want her.

“Mhmm,” she moans against my core, lips wrapping around my clit and sucking gently.

“Fuck, you’re so- holy shit,” I murmur, unable to think straight, legs already shaking, chest heaving uncontrollably. I can’t tear my eyes away from hers, as she looks up at me. my thighs on each side of her face.

“Taste so good,” she mumbles, a blush on her cheeks from the filthy words. Still, she keeps going, the vibrations of her moans bringing me closer and closer. Embarrassingly, it doesn’t take long for that familiar heat to start spreading in my abdomen, making my pussy throb around nothing as her tongue flicks back and forth in my folds.

“Make me feel so good, fuck baby, look at you,” I praise, my voice high pitched and whiny. “Look so fuckin’ pretty between my le- aw shit.”

I feel it, already growing hotter and hotter, the fire inside me making my muscles tense.

“I- I’m so cl-” I whimper, yanking on the girl’s hair.

“Baby,” Iz moans, wrapping her lips around my clit while her tongue flicks against it, making it impossible to hold back.

“Keep doin’ that, don’t stop. Don’t st-” I cry out, legs trembling and muscles tensing as the girl between my legs keeps pushing me closer and closer. “Shit mama, I’m gon’ cum.”

With that, I tip over the edge, pleasure crashing through my body, writhing and moaning. The orgasm is just as intense as it was fast, making my grip tighten around Izzie’s hair as she keeps up with the movement of her tongue.

As I come back down, the dark haired girl climbs back up, kissing me with authority. I feel embarrassed, from how wet her face is, and most of all from how fast I came. Couldn’t have been more than two minutes. It was something about her that made me yield, completely submit to her, my body too weak to fight it.

“Well that was quick,” Izzie giggles as she pulls away from me. I roll my eyes, flipping the girl on her back.

“Just wanted it to be your turn fast ma,” I mumble, beginning to kiss her neck.

“Oh fuck, fuck, fuck, P- Paige, fuck,” I cry out, tears filling my eyes as Paige presses on my lower back, pinning my hips down against the mattress. Her fingers are buried deep inside me, slipping in and out of me with a rapid pace, making my pussy drip all over the sheets. It was overwhelming, the strength of her fingers something I had never experienced before - what didn’t help was the three times I had already cum after she finished.

“Just one more, I promise. Swear baby. Can feel how much you’re throbbing around my fingers,” Paige coos, pressing sloppy kisses onto my sweaty back before sitting back up and kneading on the skin of my ass to get deeper inside me. Something about her filthy words made me willing to keep going, my orgasm building quickly from how sensitive I had been left after the past couple hours.

“Baby,” I cry out, grabbing the sheets desperately, tears spilling down my cheeks into the cotton blanket underneath me, sticking to my skin.

“So perfect,” the blonde groans, eyes watching closely the way my pussy molded around her fingers, stretched out just for her, gushing around the long digits slipping in and out.

“P- I’m gonna-” I gasp, back arching as the muscles inside me coil tighter and tighter.

“C’mon ma, lemme make you cum,” she moans, leaning back down and kissing my ear, her hot breath sending chills all over as her fingers keep pumping into me. “So fuckin’ gorgeous you know that?”

With a high pitched whine, the coil finally snaps, my core clenching around her fingers as she makes me cum for the fourth time that night. My entire body trembles, hands grabbing the sheets desperately. The blonde brings her free hand to mine, long digits entangling with mine comfortingly.

“That’s it, fuck, look at you,” Paige murmurs into my ear, talking me through it as the waves of pleasure wash over me. I feel sore, tired, but in that moment everything else is forgotten, except the ecstasy taking over my entire existence, and the blonde’s praise in my ear.

“You are so fucking sexy,” the blonde whispers into my ear, slipping her fingers out of me and wrapping a comforting arm around me. In a haze, I nustle myself into her side, still attempting to slow down my rapid breathing.

I chuckle, finally opening my eyes and flipping onto my back. I couldn’t believe how many times she had just gotten me off. Most of all I couldn’t believe I let her do that all to me with all the lights on, and enjoyed it too much to even care.

We both lie in each other’s arms, completely naked. Paige’s blonde hair is falling out of her bun, sweat glistening against her bare arms, covered in veins from the strain. She’s breathing loudly through her nose, watching my face. Surely I looked horrendous, makeup all over my face, hair fully out of place, curls wild and unruly. But the younger girl’s blue eyes continue to stare, soft and adoring. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss onto my forehead, loaded with emotion - feelings I wasn’t ready to face.

“You’re so beautiful,” Paige whispers, nuzzling her nose into mine. My heart flutters almost painfully. At that moment I know - I’m in trouble. That leaving Dallas behind after the season is over won’t be as effortless as I had hoped. I decide to worry about that later, wrapping my leg around the blonde and pressing my naked body against hers.

“So are you,” I murmur, letting Paige cocoon me with her big arms.

"One more time ma, please?"

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floipenstein · 2 days ago

Text

Ok I had a bunch more thoughts about this than I thought I would, and I really needed to exorcise them from my brain if this essay is gonna go on my blog. Basically, Executive Dysfunction is real, and the part of the essay I have a problem with is the implication that it's not.

Read more if you wanna read my whole hastily-written fucking rant though (not blaming you if you don't honestly).

Alright, I think this essay is great and actually describes ADHD in a very accurate way. Like this essay is totally worth a read to understand ADHD better. This person has a very good understanding of ADHD. It makes me want to pursue body doubling as a thing instead of just thinking about how it might help me. HOWEVER this is also not to say that body doubling would solve all ADHD problems. This essay is like, ALMOST actually invalidating a bunch of stuff about ADHD at the same time that it's trying to defend ADHD and explain it.

The essay does kind of address this though. It says that ADHD is a real neurotype, which is great, because it is. It points out that meds genuinely help many ADHDers. Which they do, like myself. Without meds I'm like some kind of slug. With meds, I actually have a hope of getting myself to do things, and I can actually put my thoughts together the way I want. They make me feel more like me.

I agree with some parts of what the essay is saying about how society causes a lot of problems that ADHDers have. Like people really do ingrain an individualistic mindset. A lot of people seem to think you should just be able to do stuff on your own. I've also been surprised at how many people think you shouldn't feel rewarded for doing something basic even if it was really difficult for you, which I think is in the same vein of that individualistic idea.

But I think the essay kind of also invalidates a lot of things that I would definitely struggle with even if society were very different. I think my biggest problem is with the paragraph that talks about the duality of ADHD things. "ADHDers lack focus, except for when they don't" etc. Like, all of the things in that paragraph are things that I struggle with, and they are all real, and not just real because society doesn't accommodate me enough or because clinicians see me a certain way.

Both lack of focus AND hyperfocus can and do fuck me over all the time. Without my meds, I AM emotionally volatile AND spacey. Too much for ME! Like I don't enjoy the experience! It's not just that society doesn't accept me a certain way, or that I take meds just to fit into society better. It's that ADHD symptoms fucking suck in their own right! Even if I have the day off, no responsibilities in sight, give me my fucking meds man, I want to fucking think straight.

I do also think that Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria is real. And not something caused by the way that society treats us our whole lives. And also not something that everyone goes through. That is the kind of invalidation that I don't like about this essay. Like, executive dysfunction is real, and worth identifying. This essay is so callous against the clinical definitions of ADHD that it kind of points the gun back at the victims imo.

Executive dysfunction is real and worth identifying. Like I said, this essay is great in a lot of ways. Body doubling is tits and I want to more seriously pursue it after reading this, because it will probably help me a lot. But if I want this thing on my blog, I have to make clear what parts I endorse and what parts I don't.

I think anything else I could say would basically be me rambling instead of exorcising thoughts. There. RANT OVER.

Despite how popular and effective body doubling appears to be, empirical research has not tested it as an intervention for people with ADHD at all. It’s a shockingly simple way to address a variety of problems, from a child struggling to complete his homework, to a grown adult who can’t tackle the massive pile of used clothes on her couch. Doctors prescribe stimulants to ADHDers facing “executive functioning” difficulties like these all the time. Yet no clinician has ever examined whether prescribing a body double would be an effective treatment — despite the fact that anecdotally, it addresses the problem more directly than meds do, and it doesn’t come with the risk of building up a physical tolerance or any unwanted side-effects. To understand why body doubling is so neglected by professionals, we have to look at the flawed way that psychiatry and psychology conceptualizes the ADHDer’s experience. Professionals largely view ADHD as a disorder of motivation and attention, a disability located inside the mind that must be solved on a solely individual level. This framing makes it impossible to understand the ADHDer as a unique, neurodivergent social being interacting with a broader cultural and economic context. Every feature of ADHD, as it is clinically described, is one of pathology and lack. ADHDers are “time blind”: they don’t have an instinct for what hour of the day it is, or how long a task takes. Nevermind that humans have relied upon time-keeping technologies for as far back as recorded history goes, suggesting that none of us approach time by instinct. ADHDers lack focus, except for when they don’t, in which case they’re suffering from hyperfocus, and that’s actually a problem too. ADHDers are emotionally volatile — but they’re also too spacy. They dissociate from reality too much, but when they take steps to address this, they are guilty of needing too much stimulation and being too active. And they’re lazy — except for when they’re staying up very late at night working, being most productive during the hours society tells them they ought to be asleep. If the many complex features of Autism can be best summed up by saying that we have a bottom-up processing style in a world built for top-down processors, then the best way to summarize ADHD is this: people with ADHD are highly socially motivated, but they live in a world where independence is prioritized.

Read the rest of this essay for free on my Substack!

#adhd

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thelov3lybookworm · 1 day ago

Text

A Little Gift

Summary: Being late to a date is unacceptable, unless, of course, the reason for the delay is so adorable.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 1846

Warnings: none, just fluff and rhysie being an adorable brother 🥹

A/n: based on this request 😋 @knoxic BESITE I LOVED LOVED LOVEDDDDDD THIS IDEA OMG I LOVE THIS ONE SM HOPE U LIKE IT TOO🤭

ANYWAYS, ENJOYYYY!!!🥳🥳🥳

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Y/n, baby, are you sure you want this?"

Y/n pouted up at her brother, nodding. "He’s very nice to me."

Rhysand sighed, rubbing his forehead. He had been sighing a lot the past week, Y/n noted, since she told him the new HIgh Lord of Autumn had wanted to court her. Y/n knew none of the members of the inner circle liked the news, she could see the disappointment and doubt on their faces clearly. And it had saddened her deeply to know she had let down her family, who had been nothing but kind and loving to her after her parents and sister had passed.

Rhysand had been so loving, taking up the role of a doting big brother so seriously that at times people confused him for her father.

Not that he could have ever been as caring as Rhysand was.

Out of the three siblings, Ophelia had been the loudest, the cheeriest. She would always smile, no matter what situation she was in. Then was Rhysand, loud, but quiet when needed to be. And then Y/n, who barely ever spoke if it wasn’t in front of her siblings or mother.

And then Rhysand and Y/n were suddenly the only ones remaining alive, and she had drawn in on herself more than ever. The first few months, Rhysand was too busy wallowing by himself and trying to take care of the court, thrust into the new role of the High lord without preamble, to notice.

When he had, he had cried, holding his only remaining family tight.

Since then, he had made sure to give Y/n all the attention in the world, never raising his voice at her, knowing she could be ripped away from him too. He did not want to hurt her, when she was the only person who really mattered. He gave her everything she asked or, never saying no to anything.

So Y/n had known when she told him about Eris, that he would not outright refuse to acknowledge their budding relationship, nor would he get mad at her.

But he would try to talk her out of making a grave decision, in his words, and Y/n did not mind it one bit.

"I can’t imagine him being nice, in any world." Rhysand mumbled under his breath, glaring holes into his shoes as he paused his pacing.

"Rhys, can’t you just give him one chance?"

"One chance to do what, angel? Break your heart?"

Y/n leaned back in the armchair she was sitting in, waiting for Eris to show up so the two could spend time together, as promised in the letters exchanged the week before. She picked at the soft fabric of the skirts of her shimmery dark orange silk dress, chewing on her lip, trying to come up with something to placate her panicking brother.

"Y/n, he's late. The male can’t even show up on time. How can I bring myself to trust him with you when he is keeping you waiting?"

Y/n glanced outside, then back in her lap. He was right. Eris was late. Not too much, of course, but late nonetheless. It didn’t bother Y/n. She knew of the problems and responsibilities that came with being a new high lord, having seen her brother go through the same experience her lover was going through. She knew how meetings and tasks came up and demanded your attention even when you didn’t have time for them.

But Rhys wasn’t as willing to be lenient as Y/n, it seemed.

Once again, he sighed, dragging his hands down his face and walking closer to Y/n. She sat quiet, watching him move to his knees in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"I just want you to be happy, Y/n. You are like my own baby, my child. I’ve seen you go through so much, so much pain, so many hardships, and I think you deserve to have a quiet, calm life where there’s no uncertainty. A life where you know you are loved, with someone who isn’t broken, who hasn’t been known to be hateful. I see Eris, Y/n, and I can tell his circumstances were not ideal enough for him to be able to afford being good, and I understand that. But what if his goodness now is overshadowed by his old habits? The things he’s been forced to do won’t leave him just like that."

Y/n’s eyes prickled as she nodded along, her grip tightening around her older brother’s hands. She understood what he was saying, of course she did. But that didn’t mean she wanted to accept it.

"I… I don’t-" Y/n paused, trying to understand what she even wanted to say.

"I’m not saying you shouldn’t court him, Y/n. Just- just be careful, yeah? Guard your heart until you are sure of his intentions."

Y/n nodded, leaning down to put her head on her brother’s shoulder. She blinked away the tears furiously while one of Rhys’s hands went around her, rubbing her back.

"Okay, enough emotional talk. Too much for my health."

Y/n huffed out a wet laugh, pulling away from Rhys to peer at Cassian, who pretended to gag and turned away.

"When did you come, Cass?"

"Yeah, why did you come, Cass?" Rhys stood, dusting off his pants and sneering at Cass, who offered him the kindest finger he owned.

"I came to see Y/n off. Where’s your mate?"

Y/n swallowed, glancing outside once more. "I don’t know."

His mouth dropped open in a show of exaggerated shock. "He’s making a lady wait? Absolutely horrendous."

Y/n shook her head, pushing to her feet, running her hands down her skirt. "It’s no big deal."

The next few moments passed quickly, as Y/n watched Feyre materialise in the doorway, Nyx and Nesta by her side. Then Azriel and Mor, and her brows furrowed. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for everyone to gather in the sitting room after breakfast on the holidays, lazing around until it was time for lunch, but… this gathering didn’t seem to be about that.

Were they all here to see her off?

Ridiculous busy bodies.

Before she could say anything about it, though, a knock drew her attention, and Y/n’s heart quickened, already predicting who it was.

But it was Rhysand, who hurried out to open the door.

"You’d think it was him going out with Eris." Y/n murmured, following him out into the foyer. Azriel made a noise of agreement, his arms folded across his chest as he walked behind her.

Y/n ignored his presence, pushing her jittery hands behind her hips, pressing her lips together before stepping fully into view of the door.

Eris wore a simple burnt orange dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbow and two buttons undone, showing off his, evidently, hard earned muscles. Dark brown slacks clung to his hips and thighs, matching with the dark brown long jacket he had draped over his shoulders.

Just the sight of him was enough to make Y/n drool. But she forced herself to look away, to focus on what her brother was saying.

"You understand me?" Rhys said his voice low, menacing.

Y/n didn’t even want to imagine what he was trying to make Eris understand.

"I understand-" Eris paused mid sentence, his eyes moving to rest on Y/n, widening ever so slightly. His gaze moved down to her toes, then back up again, snagging on her hair before meeting her eyes, offering her a small smile.

Rhys didn’t seem too bothered by Eris’s sudden lack of words, moving away from the doorway to grab Y/n’s long jacket before turning to her, waiting. Y/n hurried to put it on when her eyes fell to the way Eris held his hands behind his back. Almost as if he was as anxious to see her as she had been to see him.

"What took you so long?" Y/n pushed one arm through the jacket Rhys held open for her as Azriel prodded, curiously watching at Eris.

His cheeks turned a light shade of red, the freckles dotting his cheeks standing out.

"I, uh… had a little something come up."

Azriel raised a brow. "And that is?"

Eris glanced at Y/n, before clearing his throat. "I wanted to get her a gift."

"And did you?"

Y/n whipped her head to glare at the spymaster. "Azriel."

"No no, he has a point." Rhys said, resting his hands on Y/n’s shoulders.

Y/n sighed, exasperated, and pulled away from her brother. "Let’s go, Eris. Ignore them."

He smiled, the indent on his cheek making an appearance as he pulled his arms forward. In them, nestled, was a small, golden little pup, eyes wide yet drooping, a messy little red bow adorning its neck.

Instantly, Y/n’s heart melted, a soft gasp escaping her. Her focus zeroed in on the little thing, her brother and Azriel fading away into the background until all she could see were the innocent eyes, the small body, the soft fur and the wagging tail. She stepped forward as he extended his hands, letting the pup sniff the fingers she lifted to pet the little thing.

"What is this?"

"Your gift?" Y/n didn’t look up, but she could practically hear the look on his face.

"Eris- you didn’t have to." Y/n mumbled, feeling her brother peek over her shoulder at the animal she gently took into her own arms.

He shrugged. "I knew you liked cats but I couldn’t find a kitten so I just- got you him. I hope you like him." He paused for a moment, and Y/n could hear his smile when he spoke next. "He certainly seems to like you."

"Like him, Eris?!" She lifted her head and drew the animal close to her chest, her lower lip jutting out as tears gathered in her eyes. His eyes widened, a look of alarm crossing Eris’s face as his shoulders stiffened. "I love him!"

He exhaled a relieved breath, his small grin making an appearance again. "Well, I’m glad to hear that."

"Aren’t you supposed to go?" Rhysand questioned. When Y/n glanced at him, he didn’t even look up at her. His eyes were fixated on the whining pup.

Her eyes narrowed. "He’s mine."

Rhys rolled his eyes, reaching out to take the dog whose tail wouldn’t stop wagging. "Go on, it’s almost dinner time."

Y/n wanted to argue, but he was right. They were running late.

"See you later then." Y/n kissed her brother’s cheek, who simply waved her away, too busy cooing over the golden fur ball in his arms. She dropped a peck on his little head, too, before turning to Eris and pulling the door shut behind her, sighing.

His eyes twinkled as he extended his arm towards her, head tilted.

"Shall we?"

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Permanent Taglist: @berryzxx @sarawritestories @milswrites @throneofsmut

@daycourtofficial @sweetorangeblossom @serenescureforboredom @cassie6392 @harrystylesfan2686

@olives-main @hijabi-desi-bookworm @dnfhascorruptedme

Acotar Taglist: @bubybubsters @eos-princess @nightless @harrystylesfan2686

@cassie6392 @kennedy-brooke @tele86 @miluiel1

@hnyclover @minnieoo @sidrapotter @piceous21

@mybestfriendmademe @saltedcoffeescotch @lady-of-tearshed @starsinyourseyes

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @byyalady

@lilah-asteria @girlswithimagination @garden-of-runar @girlswithimagination

@sunnyspycat @artists-ally @milswrites @kingdomofstarrynights

@berryzxx @buttermilktea11 @loving-and-dreaming @yucanbmylxdy

@mellowmusings @dnfhascorruptedme @fuckingsimp4azriel @moonchildlv @curiosandcourioser

#eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fandom #acotar fanfic #acotar fluff #acotar series #acotar writing #a court of mist and fury #mating bond #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #pro eris vanserra #acotar

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monstersflashlight · 2 days ago

Text

Patreon Commission for Nina

Request: streamer!Reader has a game going and their monster bf (dealer's choice!) comes in without paying attention/doesn't care/etc. solely to pay you back for some teasing earlier that morning?

A/N: Couldn’t hold myself back from the joke that there’s a troll under the… desk. Lol. Enjoy!

Under the desk

Troll x fem!reader || oral sex, teasing, edging, orgasm denial (lowkey)

You feel a hot caress against the outside of your leg and you jerk up, kicking your feet and covering your mouth so your chuckle is not heard over the mic. You look down to see your boyfriend there, kneeling under the desk and looking as cute and adorable as ever. You arch an eyebrow at him, happy that your camera is turned off right now because you don’t want people noticing something is happening.

He puts a finger over his lips, a clear sign that he wants you to be quiet. He takes his phone out of his pocket and sends you a quick text. It reads “don’t make a sound, I think it’s time for you to pay”. You look down at him, excusing yourself on the mic for a second.

“Excuse me for a second, I need to let my cat out of the room,” you lie. There’s a flood of messages on your chat, many people asking for you to show the cat, some others telling you it’s okay… But you are already looking at your boyfriend under the desk. “Pay for what? I didn’t do anything to you!” You try not to sound too offended, but you fail. You are offended.

“First: you kicked me two seconds ago,” he tells you, his mouth frowning on a cute blueish pout.

You chuckle caressing the side of his face. “Aww, poor troll, did your human girlfriend hurt you?” You use your most condescending and teasing tone, laughing harder when he growls.

“That’s a second offense there, girlfriend.” His tone is borderline dark, and you have to press your thighs together to avoid whimpering. Fuck, he knows exactly what that tone does to you.

“You didn’t explain what I did!” You tell him when he grabs both of your ankles, parting your legs slowly.

He stops, looking up at you with a smirk and dark eyes. “You walked around the house with those tiny shorts tempting me as I was at a meeting, now is my turn to tease you.”

You are shocked by his words, what does he mean? He gifted you those shorts! “What? I was wearing your gift!” You know he’s not buying your lie, a green eyebrow arched as he smirks. You did put on those shorts on to tease him as he was in a video-call with his boss. And you might have moved your ass a bit more than necessary in front of him as you passed. Guess you aren’t as subtle as you thought.

“Turn on the mic, and don’t let your followers know what is happening under the desk. If you are good I’ll even let you come…” You shiver at his promise, knowing fully well what he’s capable off. He’d played with you countless times, and some of those, when you had been particularly bratty, he’d edged you until you were crying. (You loved when that happened.)

“But I…” You try to argue again, not really putting any effort behind it. Your pussy is already wet just thinking about him playing with you under the desk as nobody notices. It scratches a part of your exhibitionism kink you didn’t know you had.

He grunts: “Now, darling.” And your whole body melts, your legs parting as you comply.

You turn the mic on and start talking about some stupid thing that happened when you went shopping a couple days ago, a naga almost running you over with a shopping cart. There’s laughter on your chat as you sort out the different things you need for your trip to the mine in the game.

He caresses your legs, softly inhaling against your skin and kissing every inch of skin he can, getting closer and closer to your center as you try not to sound breathless over the mic. People seem obvious to what’s happening under your desk, and you can feel your pulse accelerating by the idea of somebody realizing. You don’t want that… but the thought of it makes you want to moan.

His rough tongue hits your pussy suddenly, and you have to bite your lip hard not to let out a sound. Your character in the game moves to the side and the chat asks what’s happening. You let out a giggle, telling them you accidentally pinched your side with the chair and you can feel the huff of silent laughter against your most sensitive skin as your troll boyfriend laughs. The fucker…

He starts slow as you keep playing, talking about non-sense and trying to keep using your cheerful tone. His tongue feels divine against your hole, you can feel the gush of juices running down your pussy just to be caught by his dexterous tongue. You have to bite your lip a couple times to avoid letting out a loud moan.

Every time you stop talking, he stops his ministrations, and you have to hold back a whimper and a plea. You try to remain focused, but you know you are fucking it up, some low level monsters almost killing you as you fumble with the mouse to change from your pickaxe to your sword.

You move your hips against his face, trying to rub your clit with his nose and he nips at your labia, making you jump a little. A warning. You can’t take as much as you want, he’s the one in control… The reminder only makes you want to do it again, but he uses one of his hands to anchor you to the chair.

He pushes two big fingers inside of you, stretching you as he finger-fucks your welcoming pussy. You are praying to whoever is listening that the lewd sounds of your wet pussy aren’t being caught by your mic, but at that point you aren’t sure you even care.

You try to remain cheerful, but with each movement of his fingers in and out of you, you can feel your climax getting closer and closer, his rough tongue feels amazing against your clit and you are seconds away from coming.

He pinches the outside of your thigh, pushing you away from your impeding climax, and making you let out a low whine that has your face turning as red as a tomato as he stops his movements, looking up at you and someone in the chat lets out a thousand questions about what’s happening.

That happens at least ten more times. You don’t know how much time passes, you only know the feel of his tongue against your pussy and his fingers rubbing against your G-spot. With each second, you are more incoherent, and your movements are more sharp. Your brain is jelly as you keep talking, making every single noob mistake you can as he edges you, denying your orgasm every time you feel it coming.

You are desperate and trembling, your brain disconnected when you decide enough was enough. “Fuck,” you mumble, and then louder you say: “Sorry guys, an emergency came up, see you tomorrow!” You rush out as you close all windows on your computer and let out the longest and most lewd sound ever.

Your troll looks up at you with amusement in his eyes, his fingers curling inside of you as he rubs your G-spot over and over. Your eyes roll back into your head and you push your legs over his shoulders, grabbing his hair and pushing his head harder against your needy pussy.

“Please, please, please… I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll be good. Let me come, please!” You know your words mean nothing, but when he pulls back a fraction just to say: “Come for me,” you are done.

Your hips rock against his face, and the second his tongue makes contact with your clit, you are coming all over his face, gushing juices all over and screaming at the top of your lungs. The orgasms with him are always incredible, but after all the teasing and edging, that one is earth-shattering.

He chuckles when you come down from your high, probably looking pathetic and sweaty. “I know you lied, darling, I know you won’t be good for me.” He cleans some of the mess you made with his hand, taking licking your juices off it as you pant.

“But you love when I’m bratty,” you let out in a whisper. You feel boneless, your whole body spent as he pushes back your chair and stands up between your legs. His hips are at face level now, and you are already salivating thinking about the possibilities.

“Yeah… I really do. Now… What are you going to do about this,” he points down at his very hard and very angry-looking blueish dick.

You smirk up at him, not getting up from the chair as you open your mouth and look at him from under your lashes. He smirks, grabbing your head with his big hand and feeding you his cock.

Yeah, you’d definitely would do it again if this is the punishment you get.

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nanenna · 3 days ago

Text

Playing with the timeline a little, and costumes, and everything really. So... you know... #canon divergence

---

Robin, the Robin of Batman and Robin fame, was lounging on a pile of pillows and blankets that Danny’s pretty sure were mostly stolen from other rooms in the keep, he recognizes the fur blanket as something Frostbite had gifted him specifically. No, not important. “Why is Robin here?” Danny looked over at the skeletons that were gathered around, one holding a plate with food on it.

Where did they get normal human food? Was that one of his sacrifices? Danny wanted to eat that!

No wait, not important. The skeletons were all staring at him with wide sockets, he could practically hear their bones rattling.

Robin stood up from his plush nest. “Are you… the ghost king’s secretary?” he asked skeptically.

Danny’s lips thinned, probably best to just stick with the truth for now. “No.” He turned back to the skeletons, “Okay, no one’s in trouble, you guys did the best you could. But new rule, from now on any live sacrifices need to be reported to me immediately.”

The skeletons all nodded and then gathered around Danny so he could reach up and pat them all on the head, they rattled their bones in happiness. Danny grabbed the plate of food, a steak with a loaded baked potato and roasted veggies for sides of all things, and carried it over to his desk. “Oh nice, someone really wants to get on my good side.” He set the plate on the desk’s corner and started sorting through the notes to find the request attached to it.

Robin hesitantly followed Danny to his desk. “Are you the ghost king?”

Danny heaved a sigh, “Unfortunately. I tried to get out of it, but it was me or Plasmius and the last thing anyone needs is to give him any power at all.” Danny frowned at the note that went with the steak dinner. “Ugh, gross, no.” He pulled out his stationary and quickly wrote “No.” on a sticky note and sent it on its way.

“Who… nevermind, not what I’m here for.”

“Right,” Danny agreed, he really didn’t want to explain the intricacies (or lack thereof) of Realms politics to Robin. “Where’s the note that came from whoever sacrificed you?” Danny hadn’t found it yet in the pile on his desk, which was weird.

“Oh uh… that was me.”

Danny looked up at Robin, who was staring Danny dead in the eyes. “What?”

“I sacrificed myself.”

Danny could not possibly have heard that right, that made no sense! “What????”

“Well I wasn’t going to go sacrifice some innocent person just to get your attention,” Robin snapped before softening his voice and adding on, “your majesty.”

It seemed Danny had heard right. But still: what?! “Who would… why! Do you have any idea?! Did you even know who I am?!”

“Pariah Dark, tyrant-”

Danny shoved a gloved hand into Robin’s face, “No, ew. I am not Pariah Dark, and you’re very lucky he’s not the king anymore. Ancients!” He left his hand in Robin’s face as he took a moment to try to gather his thoughts into something a bit more coherent. “Okay, let’s just… start from the beginning I guess. Why did you sacrifice yourself to the ghost king?”

Robin shoved Danny’s hand out of his face, “Batman was killed by Darkseid-”

“What?! No way!” Danny grabbed Robin’s hand and started dragging him out of the room. “That whole thing was a few months ago now, right? Not long after I had to go through that stupid coronation and was still getting used to things.”

“I don’t know when you were coronated.”

“Not important, the important thing is I’m pretty sure the whole world would know if Batman died. Or least everyone would be gossiping about him going missing.”

“Oh, so news of the battle hasn’t gotten out of Gotham.”

“What battle?”

“Not important,” Robin said dismissively with a wave of his free hand.

And well, they had arrived at the archives, so Danny shifted his focus to navigating the many tall shelves laid out in some kind of book labyrinth with a sorting system that only made sense to the lunatic that designed it. Or maybe it made sense in their native language, it certainly wasn’t alphabetical in English. He took Robin down a corridor that was actually a dead end, a huge book on a pedestal enshrined in its own little section. “Alright, this is the ledger of the dead.” Danny let go of Robin’s hand and started flipping through it.

“Oh,” was all Robin said, staring down at it in… some kind of emotion. It was hard to tell with most of his upper face hidden by a mask.

“Batman… Batman… Batman… yup, not here. See? Batman’s not dead.”

“First of all, he’d probably be under his real name. Second of all, I already knew that. If you’d let me finish explaining…”

Danny sighed, “Alright, explain then.”

“Everyone else believes Batman’s dead, but I know he isn’t. I found evidence he’s lost in time and I need help getting him out before something awful happens.”

“Sorry, not my domain.”

“What?”

“Not my domain, I’m the ghost king, not the time king.” Danny crossed his arms and raised a brow at Robin.

“But the book said you have access to every era and every dimension.”

“More accurately the Realms as a whole does, but I’m not in charge of the Realms, I’m in charge of the ghosts. It’s all political stuff, making laws, collecting taxes, stopping the various groups from going to war against each other, that sort of thing.”

“Taxes?”

“Only two guarantees, death and taxes. Or however that saying goes.” Danny wasn’t sure with his blank expression, but Danny’s pretty sure that one broke Robin’s brain a little. Good, payback and all that. “So sorry about going through all this for nothing, but I’m sure there’s some kind of time god or something you can pray to for help.”

“When Batman stops bouncing around time and gets back to now the bomb Darkseid stuck in his is going to go off and destroy the whole world.”

Danny froze, staring at Robin with wide eyes. “Shit.”

Robin nodded solemnly, “Shit.”

“Okay, alright, I can fix this.” Danny ran a hand through his hair and tried not to start giggling hysterically. “Good news, I know who to go to for help.” Danny grabbed Robin’s hand and started dragging him again, Robin seemingly happy to go along.

DPxDC Prompt #17

There is a room Danny's Keep he set up shortly after defeating Pariah Dark. It became necessary when the broader magical community realized Pariah had be defeated and therefore a new King took his throne. Danny found himself briefly bombarded with waves of attempted summonings.

Which, the summonings themselves, wouldn't have been so bad. Turns out people can't just drag the King of Ghosts to themselves on a whim. Danny has to actively accept a summoning to get pulled to it. And if he just decides "No," the pull and whispers go away. No problem there.

No, the problem is the offerings. And sacrifices. The things that people put in the circle as payment for even attempting to summon him. Like having to put a quarter in the payphone just to listen to it ring and ring and ring as the person on the other end of the call doesn't pick up. Since the summoning magic regarded these things as belonging to Danny even if he rejected the summons, they usually ended up just materializing in front of him if he didn't go to them.

Which, okay. It was funny that time he got to end a fight with Vlad very fast when a whole gold bar materialized and dropped on his head. And the food was nice sometimes when it was late and everywhere was closed and his parents had left samples in the fridge to contaminate everything into animation again. But the goat head dropping from the ceiling onto his desk during on of Lancer's English tests was not appreciated. Even if it did get the test rescheduled and the whole school shut down for a few days to investigate the "potentially satanic activity."

So, yeah, it was a bit of a problem. Fortunately, it was a problem with a relatively simple solution. Danny set up an inbox. With a bit of help from Tucker and Pandora, and a couple tips from Clockwork; all summoning offerings and sacrifices would now go straight to the dedicated room in the Keep.

And! As a special touch, the summoners would also get a chipper, automated voice saying, "The Ghost King you are trying to summon has more important things to do than answer you right now. Please leave a message in the circle with your name, date, location, contact information, and reason for summoning. The Ghost King will get back to you at his earliest convenience." Sam's stupid fancy girl gala voice had been perfect for that little message.

It was the perfect solution. Danny no longer had to deal with randomly materializing offerings putting his secret identity at risk. Pariah's skeletons, who had been antsy for something to do now that they were no longer bent under the thumb of a cruel tyrant, were instructed to take care of all the offerings; making sure everything was always cleaned up and put away. And all Danny had to do was stop by periodically to check in and "Officially respond" -ie, write a fuck off note- to the summoning messages (Clockwork's insistence).

A perfect solution. Up until Danny checked in one day to find the skellies pampering a whole ass boy. No. Not just any boy. Danny recognizes that costume.

"Why is Robin here?"

#dpxdc #danny phantom #dc comics #batman #justice league #nenna writes #feel free to pick this up if you want #i want to get back to my current wips #but i couldn't get this scene out of my head #i might continue it myself later too but we'll see #who will danny go to for help? :3c

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surielstea · 2 days ago

Text

Dancing With Fate - III

Read part one and two first!

Pairing: Nyx x TamlinsDaughter!Reader

Summary: Nyx and Reader are advancing in their relationship, now in the Day court where they can spend time together without fear of getting caught.

Warnings: A little heated kissing but this is just a fluff chapter!

A.Note: Guysss this little series is about to get so good and juicy I promise, also please vote on this poll for what you’d like to see in the next chapter!

Wordcount: 7.5k

The morning I was set to leave, Spring Court's estate felt suffocating. The weight of my father's expectations, the ever-watchful eyes of the sentries, the knowledge that I was slipping away not just for a visit—but for him—pressed down on me. I told myself it wasn't a lie. I was going to see Lucien. I was supposed to be there. But deep in my chest, the bond hummed, whispering truths I couldn't ignore.

I could still feel his lips on mine, the press of his hands at my waist, the quiet promise he had left me with before I winnowed away. Three days. It had felt like an eternity. Now that the time had come, I found myself glancing over my shoulder as I crossed the courtyard, my pulse quickening with every step toward the open lands of Spring.

My father had been surprisingly agreeable when I asked to visit Lucien—perhaps because I rarely asked for anything at all. Perhaps because it was easier for him to believe I sought an escape rather than suspect the truth. Either way, the approval had been granted after minor convincing.

I let out a slow breath, focusing on my destination as I prepared to winnow.

The air shimmered around me, and with a final glance at my home—if it could even be called that—I vanished.

The Day Court was a world of golden light and sprawling dunes, a kingdom carved from the sun itself. I landed on one of its marble pathways, the heat instantly settling over my skin like a second layer. White and gold towers stretched toward the sky, the brilliance of them nearly blinding.

Lucien was already waiting.

He leaned against one of the courtyard pillars, arms crossed, his red hair catching the sunlight in hues of copper and fire. He arched a brow the moment I appeared, pushing off the pillar with a lazy sort of grace.

"You're on time," he mused. "Did the skies part for a miracle, or are you actually excited to see me?"

I rolled my eyes, falling into step beside him as he led me toward the palace. "Don't flatter yourself, Lucien. I'm just desperate for decent company."

His chuckle was warm, genuine, but his sharp gaze flickered over me, assessing. Lucien always noticed more than he let on. "And here I thought Spring Court was finally growing on you."

I scoffed. "Like poison."

Lucien didn't argue. He simply guided me through the sunlit halls, the scent of citrus and sea breeze drifting through the open archways. But I could feel the words he wanted to say pressing against his tongue.

"Go on," I said finally. "Say whatever it is you're thinking before you combust."

He cast me a knowing glance. "You have a look about you."

I blinked. "A look?"

"A very particular look." He stopped in front of a set of golden doors, his expression unreadable. "The kind that usually means trouble."

I fought the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. "You're imagining things."

"I've known you since you were six," Lucien huffed a quiet laugh, pushing the doors open. "But if you say so."

The throne room was empty when we stepped inside. Not that I expected anything different—Lucien had told me Helion would be absent for the week, handling an issue near the borders. It made my request easier, less complicated.

"How long will I be staying?" I asked, trailing a hand along the intricate carvings of the marble table.

"As long as you need," Lucien answered, his voice easy, but his gaze watchful. "But your father expects a week. Don't get any ideas."

I turned to him, weighing my words carefully. "You did say I could visit whenever I wanted."

"That, I did," he acknowledged. "But I also know you don't make casual trips anywhere. So either you've grown fond of me—" He smirked. "—or there's something else going on."

I hesitated, the bond thrumming softly in my chest. Nyx would be here soon. I could feel it, that gentle pull like a tide calling me home.

"I just need time," I said finally. "Time away from Spring. Time to breathe."

Lucien studied me, his expression softening just slightly. Then he nodded. "Then you'll have it."

Relief flooded through me, but before I could thank him, the air behind me stirred.

The scent of summer rain and star-kissed skies filled the room.

My breath caught.

Lucien's lips twitched, amusement flashing in his russet eye as he glanced past me. "Right. Now this all makes sense."

I turned, and there he was.

Nyx stood in the archway, clad in deep blue, his dark hair tousled by the wind. His sapphire eyes locked onto mine, something unreadable flickering within them.

A slow, lazy smirk curved his lips. "Miss me, princess?"

Lucien let out a long, dramatic sigh. "Cauldron boil me. You do have a look about you."

Nyx didn't hesitate as he crossed the room, moving with that effortless confidence that made it impossible to look away. Like the world had never given him a reason to doubt himself. Like he belonged here, with me.

The bond hummed softly in my chest as he stopped a few feet away, his gaze settling on Lucien with a quiet, knowing amusement.

Lucien, for his part, didn't seem surprised. He just sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before leveling a sharp look at me. "So. This is why you came."

I winced. "Lucien—"

He held up a hand. "Tell me the truth. How long has this been going on?"

I hesitated, stealing a glance at Nyx, who only smirked. Smug bastard. "It's...new."

Lucien arched a brow. "New?"

"Three days," Nyx supplied unhelpfully, rocking back on his heels. "Well, three days since she kissed me."

Lucien's eye twitched. I swatted Nyx's arm.

"Since we kissed," I corrected.

Lucien's gaze flicked between us, unimpressed. Then he exhaled heavily. "And your parents?"

My stomach twisted. I dropped my gaze, my fingers curling into the sleeves of Nyx's jacket. "None of them know."

Lucien let out a short, humorless laugh. "Gods, just like your parents. Just like them." He ran a hand through his hair, muttering to himself. "Why do both of your families insist on making my life difficult?"

"Lucien—" I started, guilt pressing into my ribs.

"I know, Fawn," he interrupted, shaking his head. "You're good. You're okay."

I exhaled, my shoulders loosening slightly. I hated using Lucien's kindness like this, but I needed this. I needed to be here, needed him.

Lucien gave me a long, considering look before sighing dramatically. "My wife will be thrilled that Nyx is visiting, so I suppose you can stay." He gave a look of acknowledgment to the heir of Night.

Nyx dipped his head in gratitude, but before he could respond, Lucien turned to him fully with a sharp, easy threat. "Though, if you hurt her, and I'll be sending armies to your doorstep."

I groaned. "Uncle—"

"Completely understood," Nyx said, ignoring my protests.

Lucien only huffed, then turned toward the open archway. "Come on, Your Highness, let's get you settled before I regret my entire existence."

Nyx winked at me before following, falling into step beside him as they led me through the sunlit halls.

—

Lucien's home within the Day Court was smaller than the palace itself but no less grand. The rooms were warm, decorated in golds and creams, with sweeping balconies that overlooked the distant dunes.

Lucien pushed open a set of doors, revealing a guest suite. "This is for her," he said pointedly, flicking his gaze to Nyx. "You, however, can take the room down the hall."

Nyx smirked. "Separate rooms? What do you take me for, Vanserra?"

Lucien gave him a deadpan stare. "Someone with a death wish."

I stepped inside before they could continue, rolling my eyes. "You two are worse than children."

Nyx only chuckled, leaning against the doorframe as I took in the space. It was lovely—soft linens, airy curtains, a private balcony that bathed the room in golden light, and a ginormous bathtub sunken into the floor like the room's very own indoor pool. All this for a guest?

I was going to tease Lucien about it but when I turned back, Nyx was watching me carefully.

"We don't have long," he murmured, the humor fading just slightly from his voice.

I swallowed, my fingers tightening around the fabric of my dress. "I know."

Lucien cleared his throat. "Right. That's my cue to leave." He shot me a look, something softer beneath his usual exasperation. "Get some rest, Fawn. Meet me for breakfast in the morning."

I nodded, and with one last warning glance at Nyx, he slipped out.

Silence settled.

Nyx didn't move from the door. He just looked at me, something unreadable in his expression.

Three days. Three days without him, and yet the pull between us was stronger than ever.

I let out a slow breath. "I missed you."

Nyx's smile was slow, knowing. He stepped closer, hands bracing on either side of the doorframe. "Yeah?"

My pulse fluttered. But I refused to look away. "Yeah."

Nyx hummed, gaze sweeping over me like he was committing me to memory.

"C'mere then." He gives me one of those signature smirks.

I let go of the grip I had on my dress as I approached him, suppressed smile on my face.

His eyes follow me, watching my every movement as I come closer but not making a move to cross the threshold of my bedroom.

I peer up at him through my lashes, blinking once, twice. Then, "I missed you too," He murmured, leaning down and sealing a gentle kiss to my aching lips.

I pulled away first, and immediately regretted it the moment his lips left mine.

But he moved away, and with a quiet, secretive grin, he murmured, "Come find me when you can't sleep."

And just like that, he was gone.

—

Sleep evaded me.

I had tried—tried curling into the soft sheets, tried counting my breaths, tried pretending the bond wasn't a tangible thing pulling me toward the other side of the hall. But it was no use. The awareness of him, of Nyx, was a whisper against my skin, a constant hum in my chest.

With a soft exhale, I pushed back the covers and slipped out of my room.

The halls were quiet, bathed in moonlight. The Day Court at night had a different kind of beauty—soft, glowing, endless. I made my way toward his room, heart hammering for reasons I wasn't ready to name.

Nyx must have sensed me before I even reached the door, because the moment I lifted my fist to knock, it swung open.

He stood there, leaning lazily against the frame, shirtless, like he had been waiting. His smirk was immediate. "Couldn't stay away, Princess?"

I rolled my eyes, brushing past him into the room and inviting myself in. "Don't flatter yourself."

His room was similar to mine, only slightly smaller, with the same open balcony letting in the cool night air. The scent of him—night-blooming jasmine, crisp wind, something uniquely Nyx—wrapped around me instantly.

I turned just as he shut the door, crossing his arms. "So, what's keeping you up? Me?" His grin was all arrogance.

I huffed. "The bond."

Nyx's eyes darkened slightly, but he still managed a chuckle. "I am the bond, sweetheart."

Heat bloomed in my chest, but I ignored it, watching as he sat on the edge of the bed with a casual grace. "We should talk about it."

Nyx arched a brow. "About how wildly in love with me you already are?"

I tossed a glare at him. He returned it with a laugh, his sapphire eyes somehow beckoning me closer. "Alright," he said, quieter this time. "Let's talk."

I swallowed, unsure where to begin. "Are we...accepting it while we're here?"

Nyx's expression turned thoughtful, something softer creeping into his gaze. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "I don't want to rush you," he said, voice low, steady. "But I also don't want to pretend it's not there."

I nodded slowly. That was the problem. The bond was there, a silent, unyielding thing, urging us closer. Ignoring it felt unnatural. But accepting it—fully—was irreversible. And rejecting it, for some reason, was out of the question.

Nyx must have sensed my hesitation because his lips twitched. "You know," he mused, a grin on his lips that could only mean trouble, "Lucien and Elain's rooms are at the opposite end of the hall."

I blinked, confused. "And?"

He smirked. "So if there are any... aftereffects of us accepting the bond, they won't hear a thing."

Heat flooded my face. "Nyx."

He grinned. "Just saying, if you're worried about keeping them up—"

"Nyx." I smacked his arm, and he just laughed, catching my wrist with ease.

With a soft tug, he pulled me forward until I was standing between his legs. My breath hitched as he peered up at me, his grip warm, steady.

"You're overthinking it," he murmured.

I bit my lip tentatively. "It's a lot to think about."

His hands slid up my arms, slow and careful, like he was mapping out the places he could touch, where I would let him. "Then don't think," he whispered. "Just...stay."

I hesitated.

Then, finally, I let out a breath and climbed onto the bed beside him.

Nyx shifted easily, stretching out against the pillows, one arm behind his head as he watched me settle in. "See? Not so bad."

I rolled onto my side, facing him. "Don't get used to this."

"Too late," he said, grinning.

A comfortable silence stretched between us, the weight of the bond settling into something warm, something oddly familiar.

Then—

"What if we did accept it?" I asked softly, tracing patterns into the sheets with a fingertip.

Nyx was quiet for a moment. When I glanced up, his gaze had softened, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.

"I think," he murmured, reaching over to brush his knuckles against my cheek, "it would feel like this."

"Like what?"

His thumb skimmed the corner of my mouth, his voice dropping to something barely above a whisper.

"Like something I don't ever want to stop."

A shiver ran through me, but I forced myself to scoff. "You're so dramatic."

He chuckled, his hand drifting away, but not before his fingers brushed against my wrist, lingering. "You love it."

I did. I really, really did.

Nyx was still watching me, his expression unreadable but utterly devastating. His fingers, still barely brushing against mine, curled slightly, testing.

I should have pulled away. Should have ignored the way the space between us felt unbearable, like a string stretched too tight, ready to snap.

Instead, I turned my hand over, letting our fingers fully intertwine.

Nyx inhaled sharply.

His other hand lifted, tracing the shape of my jaw before tilting my chin up ever so slightly. His touch was featherlight, like he was waiting for me to pull back, to stop this before it started.

I didn't. I couldn't.

His eyes darkened, and I barely had time to take a breath before his lips brushed against mine.

Soft, at first. A question. I answered by pressing closer, hand against his hard chest.

Nyx groaned, low in his throat, and then he was kissing me in earnest, his hand sliding to cup the back of my neck, pulling me flush against him.

Heat curled through me, my body igniting at the sheer rightness of it—of him. His lips moved against mine with slow, devastating precision, coaxing, deepening.

I gasped as his teeth grazed my lower lip, and he took the opportunity to press even closer, his tongue sweeping into my mouth in a way that had my fingers running up his nape and tangling in his hair, pulling, needing.

Nyx growled softly, his grip tightening, his body shifting so that I was beneath him now, the weight of him pressing into me in the most delicious way.

I should have stopped him. Should have reminded him that Lucien and Elain were likely eavesdropping, that this wasn't what we came here for.

But all I could do was gasp against his lips, drowning in him as he kissed me like he'd been waiting a lifetime to do so.

And maybe he had.

The tether between us hummed, alive, crackling like a storm ready to break. My entire body felt like it was on fire, burning for something I wasn't sure I was ready for—but gods, did I want it.

Nyx pulled away just enough to press his forehead against mine, his breaths ragged, uneven. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his lips barely brushing against mine. "Tell me to stop, and I will."

I didn't say anything.

Because I didn't want him to stop.

Instead, I tightened my grip in his hair and kissed him again.

Nyx practically purred, deepening the kiss instantly, his hands sliding down my sides, gripping my waist like he was trying to anchor himself. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, his lips tracing a path along my jaw, down my throat—

I shuddered. "Nyx—"

He froze, his breathing heavy. "Too much?"

I hesitated, my mind hazy, body thrumming, aching. I didn't want to stop, didn't want this night to end—but I knew if we kept going, if I let him keep kissing me like this, there would be no turning back.

Slowly, I nodded.

Nyx let out a shaky breath, then pressed a lingering kiss to my shoulder before rolling onto his back, dragging me with him. His arm curled around my waist, keeping me tucked against his side.

I pressed my face into his chest, inhaling deeply. His heart was racing.

"Sleep, Princess," he murmured against my hair, pressing a final kiss to my forehead.

I exhaled softly, my body still humming, my lips still tingling, my heart still pounding.

But as Nyx's warmth surrounded me, as his arms tightened slightly around me, I found that—for the first time all night—I was finally at peace.

And sleep came easily.

The warmth of the Day Court sun streamed in through the open balcony doors, golden light spilling over the plush bedding and dancing across the smooth marble floors. A gentle breeze carried the scent of citrus and wildflowers, and the distant sound of birdsong filled the air—soft, melodic, impossibly peaceful.

I stretched beneath the silk sheets, the remnants of sleep clinging to my limbs. Nyx's steady breathing was warm against my neck, his arm a heavy weight draped over my waist. The bond hummed between us, quiet, content.

Carefully, I slipped from his grasp, his fingers twitching slightly in protest but aside from that he didn't stir.

I smiled to myself, watching as he burrowed further into the pillows that likely smelled of me, the golden light turning his midnight-dark hair almost copper in the morning glow.

For a male who spent so much time under the stars, he certainly slept through the hours of night like a log.

Shaking my head fondly, I padded across the room, stepping out into the hallway and making my way back to my own quarters across the hall.

The Day Court truly was beautiful in the morning—the soft glow of the sun filtering through sheer golden curtains, the air crisp and warm all at once. By the time I reached my room, I was fully awake, the peaceful hum of the court settling over me like a second skin.

I dressed in a white silk gown, the fabric flowing like liquid over my frame, cinched at the waist with a delicate golden belt. My jewelry was plentiful—thin, glimmering chains draped over my collarbones, golden cuffs sliding up my arms, rings adorning my fingers.

I had just finished fastening the final piece of jewelry when the door behind me creaked open.

I caught his reflection in the mirror before he could even enter.

Nyx stood in the doorway, his hair an absolute mess, his eyes heavy with sleep. He hadn't bothered with a shirt, his bare chest golden in the sunlight, the tattooed whorls of the night sky on his skin dark against the warm glow. He was beautiful—in that utterly devastating, ruinous kind of way.

He said nothing as he crossed the room, his steps slow, languid, his body still half-asleep.

Then his arms were sliding around my shoulders, his bare chest pressing against my back, his face tucking into the crook of my neck. His lips brushed against my skin—soft, lingering.

"Come back to bed," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep.

I smiled, meeting his gaze in the mirror as he sighed against my skin. "You are such a night owl."

One of his hands trailed up my arm, fingers ghosting over the golden cuffs there. "That's because I am Night," he grumbled. "It's unnatural for me to be awake this early."

I huffed a quiet laugh, reaching up to lace my fingers with his where they rested on my shoulder. "And yet, you're awake."

"I wouldn't be if you hadn't abandoned me." His lips brushed over my throat again, slow and deliberate, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I have breakfast with Lucien," I reminded him, though the words were already losing their strength.

Nyx hummed, as if considering coercing me out of that particular plan. His grip tightened slightly, his fingers curling around my waist as he exhaled against my skin. "Or," he suggested, his voice a low murmur, "you could stay."

I turned in his arms, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling back just enough to murmur, "I'll be back soon."

Nyx sighed, dramatically, his hands tracing slow circles along my back. "You're cruel," he muttered.

I grinned, pressing another kiss to the corner of his mouth. "You'll live."

"Debatable."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could move, he kissed me again—slow, lazy, lingering. By the time he pulled away, I had half a mind to actually abandon breakfast.

But I forced myself to step back, smoothing my gown as I gave him a knowing look. "Go back to sleep, Night Prince."

Nyx smirked, his gaze sweeping over me in a way that was far too awake for someone who had been dead to the world only minutes ago. "You'll come find me after?"

I nodded. "I'll come find you after."

Seemingly satisfied, he took a slow step backward, his lips twitching. "Enjoy breakfast, princess," he said, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't miss me too much."

I barely resisted the urge to throw a pillow at him as I slipped out the door.

The Day Court's dining terrace overlooked a sprawling garden, the morning sunlight painting the marble floors in warm golds and soft whites. A faint citrus breeze carried through the open-air space, mingling with the scent of freshly baked bread, honeyed fruit, and roasted coffee.

Lucien was already seated at the table, a cup of tea in one hand, a knowing smirk playing at his lips.

"Good morning, Fawn," he greeted, setting his cup down as I slid into the chair across from him.

I sighed, reaching for a slice of peach from the array of food laid before us. "I knew I should have stayed in bed."

Lucien chuckled, reaching for his own plate. "You wound me. I would have thought you'd missed me."

"I did," I admitted, which earned me a pleased look. "But I also knew that my first morning here would be spent with you poking at me like a bored hound with a bone."

Lucien hummed, popping a grape into his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. "You make it sound so terrible."

I gave him a dry look. "You live for gossip."

"And you have been supplying me with an endless amount of it," he countered, flashing a sharp grin. "You and the heir to the Night Court, sneaking around behind your father's back?" He shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Do you know how much restraint it takes for me not to send a letter to Tamlin about this?"

I nearly choked on my tea. "You wouldn't."

Lucien's russet eye twinkled with mischief. "Wouldn't I?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, but there was no real threat in my stare. He was teasing—mostly. "You wouldn't because I'm your favorite."

Lucien let out a bark of laughter. "You think that's enough to keep me quiet?"

I plucked a croissant from the basket, tearing off a piece with deliberate slowness. "I also brought Nyx with me, which means Elain is getting a visit from her favorite nephew," I said sweetly. "And I doubt she'd be pleased if his visit was cut short by some ill-timed news reaching Spring."

Lucien raised a brow, amused. "Using my wife against me? Low blow."

"You leave me no choice."

He chuckled, shaking his head before taking a sip of his tea. "Fine, your secret is safe with me. For now."

I exhaled in relief, but he wasn't done.

"So," he continued, smirking, "do you always sneak into his bed, or was last night a special occasion?"

I set my croissant down with exaggerated care. "You are insufferable."

Lucien grinned, positively delighted. "Oh, come now. I'm merely curious."

I sighed, shaking my head. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about Spring."

Lucien's expression didn't shift, but I saw the flicker of something—wariness, perhaps, or exhaustion—pass through his russet eye before he settled back into that smooth, unbothered demeanor.

"You want to talk about Spring?" he mused, sipping at his tea. "Now that's a first."

I hesitated, fingers toying with the edge of my napkin. "It's been... stable?"

Lucien huffed a quiet laugh. "Stable is one word for it."

I lifted a brow, silently urging him to continue.

He sighed, swirling his tea in his cup. "Your father is as he always is. Withdrawn. Distrustful. Trying to mend what little he has left, though his attempts have been... half-hearted, at best." A pause, then a softer, "He does love you, you know. Don't take that for granted."

I looked down at my plate, a strange weight pressing against my ribs. "I know, I try not to. I love him too."

Lucien sighed, setting his cup down. "Well, that was depressing."

I let out a weak laugh, grateful for the shift in subject. "You brought it up."

"Yes, but now I regret it," he muttered before shooting me a sidelong glance, that familiar smirk returning. "Luckily, we have a much juicier topic to discuss."

I groaned. "Lucien—"

He ignored my warning tone, lips twitching. "How was sleeping with the Night Court's heir?"

"I hate you."

"Did you snuggle?" He grinned. "You did, didn't you?"

I picked up my spoon, debating throwing it at his head.

Lucien laughed, positively beaming. "Oh, this is delightful."

"You are the worst."

"I am," he agreed, unbothered. "But I'm also right."

I sighed, shaking my head. "I am never telling you anything ever again."

Lucien simply smiled, far too pleased with himself.

And somehow, despite his relentless teasing, breakfast was... nice. Easy, even.

Lucien had always been that way—quick-witted, sharp-tongued, but warm beneath it all. And for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to enjoy that warmth, even as he smirked knowingly over the rim of his tea cup.

The soft pad of footsteps against marble had me glancing up just as Elain entered the terrace, sunlight catching in the golden waves of her hair. She was radiant in the morning glow, dressed in a pale yellow gown that complemented the warmth of her brown eyes.

Lucien's teasing stopped instantly.

His gaze softened, his entire being seeming to realign as he turned toward his mate. The smug amusement he had wielded so effortlessly moments ago melted into something quieter, something devotional, as if Elain were the only thing in existence.

"Good morning, my love," Lucien greeted, rising smoothly to pull out a chair for her.

Elain smiled at him, a soft, knowing thing, before placing a kiss on his cheek and settling into her seat. "Good morning," she replied before glancing at me, her expression warm. "I'm so happy you're here."

I smiled back, genuinely. "I'm happy to be here."

She took a sip of tea before asking, "What do you have planned for today?"

I glanced at Lucien, who was too busy staring at his mate to contribute to the conversation, then looked back at Elain with an amused huff. "That depends on what there is to do in the Day Court."

Elain brightened. "Oh, there's so much. The markets are always lovely in the mornings, and later today there will be a performance in the amphitheater—music, dance, sometimes storytelling, depending on the day. We could also visit the gardens."

At that, Lucien seemed to shake himself from his daze just long enough to say, "She loves the gardens."

Elain laughed softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. "I do."

The moment their hands touched, Lucien's thumb traced small circles over her knuckles, his russet eye drinking her in as if he hadn't seen her in ages, as if she were the only thing tethering him to this world.

I looked away, feeling like an intruder on something sacred.

Instead, I focused on my tea, swirling it in my cup before Elain's next words had me stiffening.

"And what about you?" she asked gently. "What do you have planned with Nyx?"

Lucien tensed beside her at the mention of his nephew but, surprisingly, didn't interrupt.

I hesitated before answering. "I... don't know yet."

Elain tilted her head slightly, studying me. "You two seem happy."

A small, shy smile tugged at my lips despite myself. "It's... new."

Her expression softened. "New can be wonderful."

I glanced at Lucien then, at the way his entire world seemed to orbit Elain, at the ease with which they simply existed together.

They had a love that was constant, unshaken. One that didn't need to be loud or demanding, because it was felt—in the way Lucien always reached for Elain without thinking, in the way she always seemed to understand him without words.

I wanted that.

I wanted something sure. Something safe. Something like them.

Elain must have seen something in my expression, because she reached across the table, squeezing my hand. "You'll find your way," she assured me, voice as soft as the morning light.

I swallowed, nodding. "I hope so."

Breakfast ended not long after, Lucien and Elain caught in their own little world as I excused myself.

I walked back to my room slowly, heart and mind tangled in thoughts of what I wanted—of him.

And of whether or not we would ever have something like the love I had just witnessed.

I pushed open the door to my room, the silk of my gown whispering against the marble floor as I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed was the mess of dark hair sprawled across my pillows, the sheets tangled around long limbs and bare skin.

Nyx had crawled into bed. My bed.

I crossed my arms, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. "You do know you have your own room, right?"

A low, sleepy groan rumbled from the depths of my blankets, his face still buried in my pillow. "Too far," he mumbled.

I snorted. "It's across the hall."

"Exactly," he sighed dramatically, cracking one sleepy eye open. His voice was heavy with drowsiness, warm and lazy in a way that made something in my chest tighten. "Besides, your bed smells better."

I raised a brow. "That's not a compliment if you're just stealing."

He grinned, stretching like a cat before reaching a hand out for me. "Come here."

"Absolutely not."

His lips tilted into something smug. "Oh?"

"Nyx, it's nearly noon."

"So?" He patted the space beside him. "Come lay down."

I laughed, shaking my head as I stepped closer to the bed. "You are so lazy."

"Excuse me," he feigned offense, propping himself up on an elbow, hair a tousled mess. "I am strategic in my rest."

I huffed, sitting on the edge of the bed, but the moment I did, he was moving—strong arms wrapping around my waist as he pulled me down beside him.

"Nyx!" I yelped, but he only laughed, tucking his face into the crook of my neck.

"There we go," he murmured, his lips pressing against my skin in a way that was entirely unfair. "Much better."

I sighed, pretending to be put out even as I melted into the warmth of him. "You are impossible."

"You love it."

I rolled my eyes, but before I could retort, he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. The argument died in my throat.

"You look beautiful," he murmured against my skin, his voice still thick with sleep. "Does every court suit you? Or are you just naturally perfect?"

A rush of heat curled in my chest. "Flattery will not get you out of trouble."

He hummed, brushing his nose along my cheek before stealing a kiss from my lips. "Five minutes," he mused, brushing another kiss over the corner of my mouth. "Just five and then we can get up."

"Fine. Five minutes." I lean into him, melting into the warmth that was his skin.

He kissed me again, slower this time as if savoring the remnants of whatever sweetness still lingered. "Lucien didn't give you a hard time, did he?"

I huffed a laugh, playing with the strands of dark hair at the nape of his neck. "Lucien is always a menace."

Nyx chuckled, his breath warm against my lips. "I bet he was insufferable."

"He was fine," I admitted, tracing a lazy pattern against his bare shoulder. "Elain joined us."

He tilted his head, brows lifting slightly. "Oh?"

I nodded. "She asked about you."

His lips curled. "And what did you say?"

"That you are insufferable, whiny, and prone to excessive dramatics."

Nyx gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Whiny?"

I grinned. "You are."

He narrowed his eyes playfully. "So harsh, princess."

I laughed, but the sound faded as he brushed his fingers over my cheek, his expression softening. "Did you sleep well?"

I hesitated before nodding. "I did."

"Good." He kissed me again, slow and sweet, his thumb brushing against my jaw. "I like waking up with you—even though you left me before I could."

Something inside me melted at the confession, at the sincerity in his voice.

I bit my lip, trying to fight back a smile. "You're so soft when you're sleepy."

He groaned, flopping onto his back. "And the moment is ruined."

I laughed, rolling onto my side to look down at him. "Come on, Nyx. Admit it."

His arm flung over his eyes. "Never."

I grinned, leaning down to press a teasing kiss against his jaw. "I like it."

His breath hitched slightly, but his arms wound around me again, pulling me closer.

And as I settled into the warmth of him, into the safety of his embrace, I realized—this, whatever we were becoming, whatever this bond between us was shaping into—felt new and foreign.

But gods, it was lovely.

After fifteen minutes Nyx still had me caged against him, his arms wrapped securely around my waist as if he had no intention of letting me leave. Every time I so much as shifted, his grip tightened, and a pleased hum rumbled in his throat.

"Nyx," I warned, pressing my hands against his bare chest, though my voice lacked any real heat.

"Mmm," he murmured lazily, nuzzling into the crook of my neck, his lips ghosting over my skin. "Five more minutes."

I huffed, though the way my body betrayed me—melting into his warmth, my fingers tracing the lines of his shoulders—was not helping my case. "You said that fifteen minutes ago."

"I don't recall."

I let out an exaggerated sigh. "You're impossible."

He lifted his head slightly, his messy dark hair falling into his sleepy eyes. "And yet, you're still here."

I scowled at him, but it was utterly ineffective given the way my face was burning.

His grin widened. "You like this."

"No, I don't."

Nyx hummed, unconvinced. "Sure you don't." Then, as if to prove his point, he kissed me—slow and indulgent, his lips warm and sure against mine. My breath caught, my fingers tightening against his skin.

His hands roamed lazily, tracing along my waist, my back, settling just beneath the curve of my ribs. "You're so soft," he mused between kisses, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. "So warm."

I glared at him, my face burning. "You're so full of yourself."

His chuckle was dark and teasing. "Only because you make it so easy, Princess."

I groaned, flopping onto my back as he propped himself up on an elbow, hovering over me with a stupidly satisfied expression. "You are so lucky left my daggers in Spring."

Nyx only grinned, dipping down to nip at my jaw, his voice warm with amusement. "I'd like to see you try."

I shoved at his shoulder, but he barely budged. His weight was solid and steady against me, and I knew—knew—that I could have pushed him away if I wanted to. But I didn't.

Nyx's fingers skimmed along my arm, down to my wrist, to where he laced our fingers together. "Are you going to stay here with me?"

"I have things to do, you know."

"Like what?" He raised a brow, his nose brushing against mine. "Surely nothing more interesting than me."

I snorted. "You'd be surprised."

He gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. "Now that is just cruel."

I rolled my eyes, lifting a hand to comb through his messy hair, smoothing it back. His eyes fluttered shut at the touch, and my heart did something ridiculous in my chest.

I swallowed, brushing my thumb over his cheekbone. "You're so clingy."

His eyes opened, a lazy smirk curling his lips. "And you love it."

I huffed, but my lips twitched despite myself. "Maybe a little."

Nyx's expression softened, his fingers brushing my cheek as he leaned in. "Good."

His mouth pressed against mine again, stealing whatever breath I had left. My heart raced, my fingers fisting in the fabric of the sheets as his hand traced down, over the silk of my gown, teasing along my thigh. His touch burned—not in a way that made me want to pull away, but in a way that made me want more.

And that should have terrified me. It didn't.

It only made me want to hold onto him tighter, to let myself fall.

I exhaled shakily when he finally pulled away, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth. He was still watching me, waiting.

And gods, I knew. I knew.

The mating bond shimmered between us, pulsing, undeniable. I could feel it, pulling me closer to him with every breath, every heartbeat.

I wanted it.

Screw that our parents didn't know. Screw that this would be irreversible. That once we accepted it, there was no undoing it, no way for them to separate us even if they tried.

I wanted this. I wanted him.

And for the first time in my life, I wasn't afraid of what that meant.

"Nyx?"

"Princess?" he drawled, his voice thick with warmth, teasing as he brushed his fingers over my wrist.

I hesitated for a moment before saying, "Can you teach me how to block you out of my head?"

Nyx's lips twitched. "You mean my Daemati powers?"

I nodded. "Yes."

He hummed in thought, tilting his head. "Of course. Though, why the sudden interest?"

I kept my expression carefully neutral, knowing full well he'd see right through me if I wasn't careful. "Just seems like a good skill to have."

Nyx studied me for a long moment before his lips curved in amusement. "You're a terrible liar."

I scowled. "Am not."

He laughed, pressing a kiss to my temple. "Alright, alright. Come here."

I let him shift us so I was sitting cross-legged in front of him, his hands resting lightly on my knees. His gaze softened, the usual teasing glint dimming just slightly as he said, "I want you to imagine a wall in your mind. Something strong. Something unbreakable."

"A wall," I repeated, frowning.

"Yes. Picture it. And then focus on reinforcing it. Make it thick, make it impenetrable." His thumb traced circles against my knee as he watched me carefully.

I closed my eyes, inhaling slowly as I tried to summon that wall.

"Good," he murmured. "Now, I'm going to push just a little—try not to let me in."

I gritted my teeth as I felt the gentle probing at the edges of my mind. It was strange—like a featherlight touch, testing the defenses I'd barely managed to put up.

"Your wall is shaky," Nyx noted, the laughter in his voice evident. "I could break through it in an instant."

I cracked an eye open to glare at him. "You're so encouraging."

He grinned. "I'm just being honest."

I huffed, closing my eyes again and focusing, really focusing, on that barrier. I imagined thick, towering walls, impenetrable and unwavering. I strengthened them, bracing them against his presence.

Nyx hummed in approval. "Better."

A moment passed.

Then another.

And then—

"Huh," he muttered.

I opened my eyes to find him blinking at me, mildly impressed. "What?"

"You actually did it." He tapped his temple. "Can't hear a thing."

I grinned, triumphant. "Told you I could do it."

Nyx chuckled, his hands sliding up to my waist as he pulled me toward him. "I could still break it." He makes clear. "But now I can't hear em' unless I want to."

I smiled softly, "Good enough for me."

Then he kissed me.

Slow and deep, as if savoring the taste of victory along with me. His hands traced up my spine, his touch warm and steady as he pressed me closer. I melted into him, tilting my head to give him better access as his lips moved against mine with aching patience.

It was a reward, and I greedily took it.

When we finally parted, his lips trailed down my jaw, over the sensitive skin of my neck. "I should teach you things more often," he murmured against my skin, the words sending a shiver down my spine.

I swatted at his shoulder, but it was weak at best. "Behave."

He laughed, the sound muffled against my throat as he kissed a slow path back up to my mouth. "Not a chance."

I sighed, allowing myself to collapse onto the mattress, tugging him down with me. Nyx followed willingly, draping himself over me as if he had no intention of moving anytime soon.

"So," he mused, his lips brushing my shoulder, my collarbone, my jaw. "What do you want to do today?"

We eventually collapsed back onto the bed, tangled together. His hands roamed lazily, his lips finding every inch of bare skin he could reach. Between kisses, we murmured about what we could do today—halfheartedly listing off places we knew we wouldn't go, tasks we knew we wouldn't complete.

"We could go for a ride?" I suggested idly.

Nyx hummed, lips brushing my collarbone. "Mmm, sounds nice." His fingers traced circles on my hip. "Or we could stay right here."

"Lazy," I teased, though I had no intention of moving either.

He nipped at my shoulder in retaliation, making me squeak. "Not lazy," he corrected. "Just—" He kissed the corner of my mouth. "Comfortable." Another kiss on my cheek. "Perfectly, completely comfortable."

My heart thudded, my fingers tightening around his bicep. I could still feel the bond shimmering between us, waiting.

Waiting for me. Because he seemed to have already decided that accepting it was his only choice, the only one he'd acknowledge at least.

Nyx pulled back just enough to meet my gaze, his expression soft, but unreadable. "What?" he murmured.

I swallowed hard, smoothing my hand over his chest. "Nothing," I whispered.

Not yet.

He searched my face, but I knew he wouldn't find anything—not now. Because I had learned how to block him out. Because the next time I opened my mind to him, it would be on my terms. A choice. A gift.

Nyx pressed one last kiss to my lips before sighing, letting his head drop against the pillow. I curled into his warmth, letting my eyes drift shut, a secret burning in my chest.

The next time I let him in would be when I was ready to accept the bond. And I wanted it to be somewhat of a surprise.

Which meant he had to stay out of my mind—just for a few days. Just long enough for me to do what I had already decided.

What I knew I wanted.

I glanced at him then, at the male who had stolen my heart in the span of a few weeks, at the way he watched me with that easy, knowing smirk—completely unaware of what was coming.

A slow smile curled on my lips.

What I wanted.

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lyn31 · 2 days ago

Text

A Bet

Summary:

At this point, you just can't help yourself.

AO3 link

Notes:

Pairing: Zayne x MC/Reader

College AU, fluff and short.

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You don’t mean to start something. Really, you don’t.

But Zayne is staring at the café menu like he hasn’t ordered the exact same thing every single time—a caramel macchiato with extra whipped cream, as sweet as he can get away with—and it’s right there, practically gift-wrapped for you.

“You’re getting the caramel macchiato,” you say, lounging back in your seat.

Zayne doesn’t even glance at you. “You don’t know that.”

You scoff. “Please. You’re a sugar fiend. If no one stopped you, you’d probably drink syrup straight from the bottle.”

Across the table, Caleb perks up like he’s just sensed drama brewing. “Oh, this is good. You that sure?”

You meet Zayne’s gaze, and something shifts—playful, challenging, a silent dare hanging between you. You grin. “I’d bet on it.”

His brow lifts slightly. “What’s the wager?”

“If I’m right, you have to carry my books for a week.”

Zayne tilts his head, considering. Then, too smoothly, he counters, “And if I win, you have to admit I’m right about something. Publicly.”

You gasp, pressing a hand to your chest. “That’s low.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Of course, you take it. You’re already mentally celebrating when he steps up to the counter. You don’t even need to hear it; you know exactly what he’s about to order.

Then—

“One matcha. No sugar.”

The café goes dead silent.

Your jaw drops.

And then the group erupts.

Caleb fake-wipes a tear. “You hate to see it.”

Your sister shakes her head, sipping her drink. “You walked right into that.”

You’re still staring at Zayne like he just declared he was moving to Mars.

He looks far too smug as he picks up his drink, fingers curling around the cup like he hasn’t just betrayed every shred of trust you ever had in him.

“You hate matcha,” you say, scandalized. “And no sugar? Who even are you right now?”

He shrugs. “Guess you were wrong.”

You gape at him, betrayal sinking deep into your bones. “You’re a liar and a fraud.”

Zayne doesn’t even acknowledge the accusation. He just lifts his drink in a lazy toast. “And yet, I still win.”

Except—

Instead of drinking it, he slides the cup toward you.

You blink. Then blink again. “What?”

Zayne exhales like you’re the one being difficult. “Relax. I ordered the usual.” His voice is maddeningly casual. “Just wanted to see your face.”

The café explodes.

Caleb groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Oh my God, just date.”

Your sister lets out a long-suffering sigh. “One day, they’ll figure it out.”

You and Zayne exchange a glance, equally confused. “Figure what out?”

No one answers. They’ve already moved on.

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Notes:

And I can't help myself either 😂 I love the idea that everyone on their campus is equally invested and done with these two ahahahaha

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fixyourwritinghabits · 3 days ago

Note

Hello. I realize this might be overly personal for this blog but I was wondering if you had any advice for my situation. I'm trying to get back into creative hobbies like drawing and writing and while I made some progress with drawing I've really struggled with writing. It's been about ten years. I struggled with my mental health a lot when I was younger and essentially let my depression/anxiety and ADHD destroy all my creative ability. Logically I know the answer is to just write and write badly, but I'm preemptively disappointed and upset that what I write will be. Well. Shit. Or that I'll never improve. Or that I have no idea what to write. And when I do have an idea what to write it's all just gone from my head the second I sit down to write. So. Er. I guess I'm wondering if you have any advice or resources for people like me? Thank you :)

When you're juggling various different Back-Stabbing Brain issues, various pieces of writing advice - getting up at 5pm, forcing yourself to do it, etc - just doesn't work. For me, it's been a struggle to figure out even in optimal situations, so you're not alone. For me, the following is what worked.

Figure out your peak writing time.

Unfortunately, in our capitalist hellscape, you may not be able to use that time to your advantage. My peak time is from 2pm-5pm, right in the middle of work and fades right when I get home. Not ideal. But I can use that knowledge to take advantage of that time on my free days, and I can strategically time my breaks to do some writing. Or just write while pretending to work. Not that I would ever confess to doing that.

Taking the time to figure out when your brain is most willing to work with you is also very helpful. My brain will not work for writing after 8pm. It can, however, still do the dishes. Forcing myself to put off chores so that I can write is super hard thanks to my ADHD (which hates chores until I need to do something else), but I can combat that by making goal lists, scheduling my writing time (with set alarms on my phone!) helps me manage that.

Change location.

I can't get a lot of work done at home. I've tried. I've moved my desk around, I've locked down my internet browsers when writing, I have ignored the way my cat stares holes into my back to try to write. My brain, though, knows that the bed is right over there, we've got that pile of books to read, and oh hey, Tasting History has a new video. Also my cat wants to steal my computer chair and then get constant pets while in said chair because she is a princess baby. It's a losing battle.

What does work for me? Dragging my work to the library. Finding a cafe with enough space and quiet music to get some stuff done. Breaking out a foldable desk on the porch so that there is a closeable barrier between me and my distractions (the cats hate this option).

Changing location is something that works for me. If you have limited options, build barriers between yourself and distractions. Pile stuff on the bed so that it's not easy to give in and lie down for "just a minute." Close doors. Bribe your cats (or your kids). Use a standing desk - shifting your position can help lock down some of the ansty need to be doing something (my chair-stealing cat is more than happy to help with this).

I know of one writer who only gets work done by locking herself in her bathroom, because it's just enough change of scene to get her thoughts to settle. I know another writer who can only get editing done sitting in his parked car. However wacky, trying different scenarios to get something to work can really help.

Find the right tools.

The only way I can draft is by hand. It sucks and I have carpal tunnel, but my brain cannot type words into a blank screen. I need a pile of messy papers that no one else can read to work from.

I'm also very particular about what I write with. I use Uni Power Tank pens from Japan (because they're the only damn pen I've found that doesn't smear my left-handed writing), and I cycle through different types of paper I exclusively work with. Right now it's Five Star Reinforced Filler Paper with the triangle holes, not the round ones.

I don't know why this works, it just does. I've changed up what I've used over time, but as long as I'm consistent and not trying to write a chapter using differently-sized paper (insert scream here), I can get it done. Test out different tools and find what fits for you.

Organization isn't helping? Embrace chaos.

Jeff VanderMeer wrote an entire series on post-it notes, napkins, and on the backs of old bills. I wouldn't recommend that, but if a little chaos gets the job done, then do it. Spread a story across several half-filled notebooks. Map dialogue using only flashcards. Instead of waiting to sit down to get work done, scribble away while on a bus or on the move (safely, of course). Use a speech-to-text app to talk out your writing. Sometimes the more tactile you can make writing, the more you can break up those barriers keeping you from writing.

Try out different things! You'll eventually find what works for you

#writing advice #writing tips #encouragement #writblr #tumblr mobile loves deleting my damn links

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stinkysam · 23 hours ago

Text

Choi Subong “Thanos” - K.I.S.S.I.N.G.

Warning : pissing (not kinky), slight handjob (?)

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : “Like thanos and reader hardcore making out in the bathroom of the games place and some player (probably nam-gyu?) caught them” - anon

Reader : male (you/yours)

A/N : bold is in English // it might be a little more than suggestive ? High-fiving myself because I slightly got rid of the blockage I have. // Reread it so many times so idk if it’s good anymore.

You were relaxing in your bed, waiting for the afternoon to pass after the latest vote. The adrenaline was gone, the mood had shifted from stressing to peaceful, people chatting quietly amongst themselves.

Then you felt your bed shake a bit, someone climbing your ladder. Your eyes remained closed, not particularly caring though you already had an idea of who it was.

The person stopped when they reached your level, probably staring, wondering if you were asleep before jumping on your bed, uncaring, laying really close to you, their breath fanning over your face as they placed a hand by your waist.

Though the bed was small and you were laying in the middle of it, you knew the extreme proximity wasn’t because of the size of it.

You opened your eyes, Thanos staring right back at you with a small smirk. You smiled briefly, moving your head slightly closer to his as you closed your eyes once more.

You expected him to say something, trying to flirt or get under your skin, but instead he said nothing, just resting with you silently.

His hand by your waist kept moving, fidgeting and tapping and the more you tried to relax, the more you struggled falling asleep. Thanos kept shifting, rubbing his feet together, tapping them rhythmically against yours. You could hear the shuffling of his body continuously moving.

He clearly had a song stuck in his head, and you swore that with the proximity you could hear it. Or maybe it was just you.

You began shifting as well, feet moving and fingers fidgeting. You didn’t even know why your eyes were still closed at this point, but as you were stubborn, you kept them that way, wanting to enjoy your peace a bit longer.

You sighed quietly, you needed to go to the bathroom but you didn’t want to go, feeling too comfortable to want to move. You waited for a moment, trying to ignore it before finally giving up. You sat up, Thanos watched you, confused. And then you climbed on top of him to go down the ladder by his side. His hands went to your wrists, stopping you from moving, keeping you above him.

You stared at each other silently. You could tell the gears were turning in his brain.

“Where are you going ?” He finally asked.

“Bathroom. Wanna help me piss ?” You replied, raising an eyebrow with a small smile.

“I could.” He shrugged, smirking.

You laughed with a grimace, shaking your head as you began moving again, climbing down the ladder, leaving him on your bed.

And with that you were gone, walking toward the door, knocking against it loudly.

“I have to go take a leak !” You said, hoping there was a guard behind the door.

No answer.

“Do I have to piss by the door ?” You asked, more to yourself than anything. They generally let people go to the bathroom during the day.

‘Weird’, you thought.

Meh.

You shrugged, beginning to pull your pants down as the door suddenly opened. Did you scare them or were they too busy to open sooner ?

You smiled, pulling your pants back up before patting the triangle’s shoulder, walking past him and into the corridors to go to the bathroom.

Though you weren’t in any rush, you still trotted toward the closest urinal. Your head fell back, sighing as you finally emptied your bladder.

A few seconds later you heard the door slam open, footsteps approaching.

“Pissing all by yourself, handsome ?”

You smiled as you looked behind, watching the owner of the voice get closer, leaning against the wall by the urinal you were using, eyeing you.

“What. You really wanna give me a hand ?” You snorted, amused.

“I actually might.” He replied, looking down at your dick.

“Aw. Cute. Too late for that, though.” You pulled your pants up, blowing him a kiss before walking toward the sink, Thanos following you.

“Why are you here ? Clearly you don’t need to relieve yourself.” You turned the faucet on, warm water hitting your skin as you began to wash your hands.

“How do you know I don’t need to relieve myself ?” He cockily smiled. Hinting something else than what you talked about.

“And how is that my problem ?” You looked at him and he shrugged.

“You’re the reason ?”

“Ah.” You dried your hands, nodding. “And how should I help you ?” You smiled, pushing your hands in his pockets, pulling him closer.

He looked around for a moment, acting as if he was thinking, you tilted your head, waiting, one hand moving to his hair, gently combing them.

“I think your lips could really help.” He replied. Not that your hand in his hair and your proximity wasn’t enough, but Thanos was selfish, wanting more.

“How so ?” You leaned closer. “Like this ?” You kissed his lips, before giving them a quick lick, smiling.

He didn’t let you pull away, grabbing your arms as he planted his lips on yours, deepening the kiss. It was almost desperate, but you'd say it was primarily hungry. Your hands went to his face, thumbs gently caressing his skin as you chuckled.

You only slightly moved back before attacking his face with your lips, letting your excitement explode, planting them everywhere, pecking every inch of his skin.

Thanos let out a dopey laugh as you kissed his eyelids, making you chuckle. He sounded so cute.

He grabbed your face, stopping you, making you look to the side before his lips went to your cheek strongly, making a comically loud kissing sound as he pulled away only to continue kissing your face the same way you did with his but with much more strength, forcing you to scrunch up your face as his hands squeezed your cheeks.

Still, you let yourself be kissed, humming, enjoying his warm lips against your skin, your hands were by the back of his neck, gently playing with the shorter hair.

Then his focus returned to your lips, tasting you again, growing more intense. As he bit your lower lip you tugged on his hair, making him hiss loudly and throw his head back to ease the stinging pain, laughing lightly.

You moved lower, snickering, attacking his neck, teeth digging in his skin. He let you do what you wanted for a moment as you enjoyed yourself, leaving a path of hickeys and bite marks on his neck.

And then, it was his turn to pull your hair to bring you back on his lips, despite your grimace you still smiled, gladly focusing on kissing him properly again.

You pushed him against the wall, trapping him against you as you kept devouring one another. His tongue was warm against yours. But his hands sliding under your t-shirt weren’t.

A chill ran down your spine as his cold hands caressed your hot skin, gliding on your sides and up your back, holding you close.

You pulled away.

“Don’t touch me with those cold ass hands, dude. Are you a corpse ?” You said, pecking his lips as you grabbed his arms, forcing his hands out from under your shirt as you held them, squeezing them. He squeezed your hands back, fingers caressing yours gently.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do about it ?” He asked, kissing your jaw before letting his forehead rest against your shoulder.

One of your hands went back to his hair, gently pulling on a few wild strands, tickling his scalp.

“Don’t touch me ?” You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“Fuck off !” He replied, pushing you slightly.

“Alright.” You shrugged, raising your hands in the air before turning around and walking away.

“Ah, come on.” He went after you, grabbing your hands to make you face him again.

“As much as I love your hands, they’re not sliding under my clothes today.”

He whined, frowning before looking at you surprised.

“You like my hands ?”

You kissed his cheek, before looking at his hands, raising them higher to see them better.

“Have you seen them ? Fuck !”

He chuckled, squeezing your fingers.

“Oh, so you’re down bad, huh ?” He said, swaying side to side mockingly. You laughed loudly.

“Shut up. I should say the same about you.”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

You sighed and laughed, hitting his shoulder. Thanos pulled you closer, capturing your lips once more as he continued holding your fingers, thumbs gently rubbing against them.

One of your hands went to his chest, slowly moving it lower and lower, pushing past his waistband and into his pants, wrapping it around his cock. You quickly felt him tense and relax against you.

You began to stroke him, feeling his dick pulse awake with each of your caresses. Thanos was smiling against your lips, happy with where this was going. He definitely made the right choice to go after you.

Then suddenly you heard the door open followed by a sigh, footsteps approaching, and then, silence.

You and Thanos looked at who had entered, smiling once you saw Namgyu and Gyeongsu.

Quickly they noticed your hand in Thanos’ pants, still working his dick as he let out a sigh, resting his head against your shoulder. Namgyu groaned while Gyeongsu quickly looked away, finding the structure of the walls and floor far more interesting.

“Woah, really…” Namgyu scoffed, combing his hair with one hand. “Wanted to take a shit but now I don’t want to anymore.”

“Why ? Nothing’s stopping you.” You said, rubbing your cheek against Thanos' hair.

“Yeah. Go- ahead.” Thanos added, trying to stay composed, a tent now well visible in his pants as his hands gripped your arms.

“No. Just- Be quick about it.” Namgyu answered, turning his back and walking away, Gyeongsu rapidly following him.

You snickered as you heard the door close behind them, Thanos looking at you, smiling as he leaned closer, kissing you.

#male reader #m!reader #thanos squid game #squid game x m!reader #squid game x male reader #squid game 2 #squid game #choi su bong x m!reader #choi subong x m!reader #choi subong x male reader #choi su bong x male reader #choi subong #choi su bong

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hellvst · 2 days ago

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OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 4.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; quinn is playing + canucks won yesterday against la? we are soo back! i kinda forgot to give simon a face claim...oops! but, i did have an idea or picture him to look similar to kevin fiala or roman josi, i just can't find a face claim for him. it's up to your imagination as well! happy reading <3

CHAPTER TWO

SYDNEY

My alarm went off multiple times within the past fifteen minutes, and kept hitting the snooze button each time it did. So much for wanting to wake up early this morning.

I fluttered my eyes open, adjusting to the natural light through the window.

The first thing I noticed when I woke up was the dull ache in my right leg. It wasn’t a sharp pain–more like a persistent stiffness, reminding me that no matter how much progress I made, and lots of physiotherapy sessions, I wouldn’t always feel one hundred percent.

There was no point in dwelling on it. I had a busy day ahead, and self-pity wasn’t on the agenda. Not today.

I ungracefully got out of bed–did some stretches, single-leg squats, and hopped on one foot.

Nothing some movement wouldn’t fix.

The discomfort usually disappeared once I got my body moving. Truly odd, but if it got me through the day, I was not going to complain.

I moved through my morning routine with muscle memory. A quick shower, skin care, matching black compression set, an oversized hoodie thrown on without much thought, and tied my hair into a ponytail.

By the time I made it to the kitchen, the coffee machine was already doing its magic. As I waited, I flipped the TV on in the living room out of habit as I did every morning.

The post-game analysis was still running from last night’s Canucks-Oilers’ game. I wasn’t surprised that this was the first thing that popped up on the screen, considering it’s been a while since my hometown, Vancouver, had made a playoff appearance. It was a huge deal for the city.

I caught a whiff of the last few minutes after getting home late from the studio–just in time to witness the whole debacle unfold.

My brother, Simon, and his teammate.

The miscommunication. The puck hitting the post. The loss.

A blown play that cost them a ticket to conference finals.

Now, every analyst, reporter, or fan was commenting and dissecting it.

“This was a complete breakdown,” one of the reporters began. “Simon Gray and Quinn Hughes were on totally different pages the entire game. You can’t have your best forward and your top defensemen out of sync in the most important moments–”

I turned the TV off and took a sip of my coffee, already knowing how that played out. My stomach was tightening at the sight of Simon after the buzzer went off.

Before the game, I sent him a short and simple ‘good luck!’, and haven’t heard from him since. Fair enough, given the outcome of the game.

Simon was going to be miserable for days, maybe weeks, more likely the entire summer. My brother was going to be impossible to deal with after that. And if history has taught itself, he was going to blame others for his mistakes. He always did.

I looked at the time, almost choking on my coffee, “Shit.”

I was running late for my first private session of the day, and Phoebe–one of my regular clients–was going to get there before me. Again.

If someone had asked me years ago what I saw myself doing, being a Pilates instructor wouldn’t even make the list. But life has a way of throwing you in places you’d never expect.

It started after the incident, I don’t talk about it much–there was nothing left to say. It happened. It definitely changed things. And for a very long time, I felt lost in my own body, like going through motions without purpose.

Doctors and my physiotherapist gave me exercises, stretches, and a never-ending list of things to “try”. Nothing clicked. Nothing felt right.

Until, I stepped into my first Pilates class. I remembered feeling a bit skeptical at first, convinced it was another trendy workout–the one all the girls tried out. It was the first time in a long time I felt connected to myself again.

I kept going. I got better. And then I got really good. Good enough that one day, the owner of the studio I’d been training at, pulled me aside and asked if I ever thought about teaching.

I laughed at the time, but the idea lingered that it stuck. And here I was: an instructor at Lumé Wellness–the top studio branch in Vancouver–fully booked for the summer, doing what I love.

The studio wasn’t that far from my apartment, twenty minutes tops without traffic which most days I was thankful for.

By the time I made it to the studio, sure enough, Phoebe was already inside one of the private rooms, stretching on the mat.

She raised an eyebrow at me as I put my bag down. “Would it kill you to be on time for once?” Phoebe teased, pulling her dark curls into a bun.

I rolled my eyes and started stretching beside her. “It’s five minutes.”

She shrugged and wiggled her brows, “Five minutes that I spent wondering if you were late because a guy kept you up last night.”

“Oh my God,” I groaned with a smile. “Don’t start this again, Phoebe.”

All she did was grin, absolutely delighted at the sight of my suffering. Phoebe was in her late forties, a social butterfly with too much energy for the morning slot, and too much curiosity for her own good.

Plus the fact she was newly single and thriving in the chaos of her impending divorce, loved to poke at my non-existing dating life. She was a sucker for drama, and if my love life–or lack thereof–could provide her entertainment, she’d without a doubt take it.

“Oh come on, humor me, Syd. There has to be someone,” she said, settling onto the reformer. “You’re giving off the ‘I’m seeing someone new’ glow.”

I scoffed at her. “That ‘glow’ you’re referring to is just the new overhead lighting.”

She snorted then sighed dramatically as I adjusted her stance, “You know, you should really make time for some fun.”

“I have fun.” I argued.

“Pilates and binge-watching The Office at home doesn’t count.”

She got me there.

We continued on with our session. Usually with Phoebe, time flies so fast when all she did was rant about her life–pestering me about mine–but she eventually let it go once we began the harder exercises.

I barely got a moment to breathe before moving on to my bigger group session. To my luck, this group was breeze to get through as they followed my exercises on the reformer with ease. Not to mention, the music blasting through the speakers in the studio allowed them to get into that rhythm which was helpful as well.

Just when the last song ended, the group of ladies’ chests heaved, the room was filled with breaths of exhaustion, and a few went straight for their water bottles.

“Alright, ladies! Great work today! Hope to see you in our next class.”

They all left one by one, saying ‘bye’ on their way out, until I was the only one left.

Two or three classes to teach in the mornings usually had me working around lunch.

And by then, I was starving.

My routine was pretty much the same, there was not a lot to do with an hour break. But, most days consisted of grabbing a quick meal at the nearest bistro or cafe with my closest friend. As I was about to pick up my things off the floor, my phone in my pocket buzzed.

Speak of the devil herself.

“Hey, Diane,” I answered, tucking my phone in between my ear and shoulder as I packed.

“Are we still on for lunch? I’m already at the café.”

I heard the faint lively sounds of the city of Vancouver in the background. “Yeah, I’m about to leave the studio and make my way–”

“Sydney?”

Right as I was trying to make a beeline to the doors, I turned to see Grace–the owner of the studio–peeking out her office door. My stomach dropped.

“One sec, Di.” I lowered my phone, ending the call. “Everything alright, Grace?”

“Can you step into my office for a minute?”

Fuck. This cannot be good.

I followed her inside. It was a rare sight to see any of the studio employees in Grace’s office, she usually came to talk to me after my classes, never the other way around.

She never gave off vibes that ever intimidated me. I have never seen her upset with anyone, unless they truly pushed her buttons. The word ‘nervous’ wasn’t enough to express how I was feeling right then and there.

“Have a seat,” she gestured to the empty chair across from her. I gave her a smile, but beneath that was a wave of anxiety washing over me.

I tried to figure out what I might have done wrong. Did someone complain? Did I mix up the schedules or bookings? Did Phoebe finally rat me out for showing up late most of the time? The idea of me getting fired was not on my list of things today.

Grace sat behind her desk, clasping her hands together. “I have some news for you.”

Oh God. This is it. I was getting fired.

“I know your lunch break just started, so I’ll just get straight to it.” Grace had always been forward when she spoke. “There’s an opportunity with the Vancouver Canucks. Their management reached out about a summer cross-training program. They wanted us to coordinate it.”

I blinked at her, “And…?”

“And I told them you’d do it.”

As if my eyes couldn’t get any wider than it was. I stared at her in complete and utter disbelief, waiting for some sort of punchline. “You’re joking.”

Grace smiled, “Nope.”

I would have never imagined she’d say those words. This might be worse than getting fired.

There had been a few occasions when I had worked with soccer clubs, and a few college football players for cross-training. But, I had never done a session with the professional leagues such as the NHL. This was way different.

“Grace, I’m flattered but–” I thought about my words carefully, “I have a full schedule this summer and–”

“I am aware of your busy schedule,” she said, waving a hand. “I already adjusted your schedule accordingly to accommodate for this.”

Of course she did..

I opened my mouth, then closed it. This conversation was already headed towards the direction I dreaded. “There are other instructors here that I think are more qualified–who have worked in this studio for much longer that are more deserving for this job.”

Grace raised a brow at me, “Do you think I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t think you were more than qualified?”

Shit. I had that coming. I basically dug that hole myself.

I stayed silent for my own good, Grace knew she was right and she sighed.

“They want you,” she said simply.

“What? Why?”

I answered a bit too quickly, unknowingly raising my voice an octave or two. I shift in my chair, clearing my throat having just panicked in front of my boss.

“Well, given that you have a good background on hockey, I thought you were perfect for the position. Not to mention that their head coach, Rick Tocchet, had also referred to you. And if it helps, it’s not the entire team you will train with. Just two of their players.” Her lips twitched as she leaned in her seat. “One of them being your brother.”

My stomach twisted. I should have seen this from a mile away. Why didn’t I make that connection instantly right when she said ‘Vancouver Canucks’?

After all, my older brother Simon was one of the top forwards for the team.

Although, he may be my family and I would do anything for him–I wouldn’t train him or anyone on his team for that matter. Hockey was Simon’s thing, and I had my own so we stayed out of each other’s lane. And we like to keep it that way.

Plus, I wasn’t all that into men that played hockey. They weren’t my go-to type. But, I would be lying to myself if I didn't think there were some head-turners, but nothing too crazy of the sort. I have never dated a hockey guy.

I blinked, tapping out of my short trance. My brain was processing the fact that I was going to spend all summer with my brother and his teammate.

Which led me to another question for Grace.

“So, if I’m training my brother–” I said, dragging out the last word. “–who is the other?”

She took a moment before she replied, “Quinn Hughes.”

That brought me to a full stop. What?

My eyes were nothing but bloodshot, “Quinn Hughes?” There was absolutely no hiding my distraught expression, even if I tried my hardest to contain it. “That’s asking for the impossible, Grace. It would take a miracle for those two to work together.”

Shocked doesn’t even begin to cover what I was feeling.

Simon hated Quinn Hughes. I have spent the last few years listening to him ranting about how Quinn came in a year after he was drafted and ‘ruined’ everything–climbing the ranks, breaking franchise records as a defensemen, and taking the spotlight.

I never truly understood the obsession. Simon had never acted this way growing up, especially towards another teammate. Now, he’s spent years resenting Quinn, blaming him for everything that has gone wrong in his career. I have asked multiple times specifically why he hated him so much, all I got was some half-assed answer.

And I’ve never met the guy, but from what I’ve seen, he seems alright.

“Your job is to make sure they don’t kill each other,” Grace continued. “I told Rick Tocchet you’d do it. And of course, you will be paid. More importantly, the Canucks’ are willing to invest in our studio. We’re growing and this would help fund more studios to expand, Sydney.”

Wow. It would be a great deal for Lumé Wellness now that I think about it. After adding the brand new Pilates reformers and more intensive sessions, our class attendances shot through the roof. The space in our studio was limited and we were growing in numbers as waitlists were piling up.

What kind of Pilates instructor would I be if I didn’t want that for the studio?

I exhaled a sigh, “What about the media? They will be a problem–”

“We will handle it,” Grace cut me off. “After what happened last night, there’s no doubt that the press will track two of their star players’ moves throughout the summer. That’s why Rick, the Canuck’s team, and I will ensure that we will keep the training sessions on the down-low to prevent the media from talking.”

That reassured me to an extent, but I was still skeptical. This was a bad idea.

It was easy to figure out why this arrangement was set in the first place. Those two, especially my brother, needed to stop acting like children and start acting like grown adults. Play like real professional hockey players.

After the loss last night, it was only a matter of time when their team did something about it. I was surprised that it took them long enough. A few years ago, I wondered why they hadn't forced them to be stranded on an island together. Maybe surviving off an island together surely would have allowed them to work together at least.

The look in Grace’s eyes were telling me that there was no way out of this. Even if I came up with more excuses or tried to find a replacement, her (and apparently Rick Tocchet) mind was already made up.

I leaned back in my chair, my head was spinning in constant circles. “Is there any way for me to get out of this?”

“No.”

Damn. A complete shut down.

“Of course not,” I mumbled.

She gave me a knowing look, “Everything will be fine, that I can assure you, Sydney. Sessions will begin in two weeks.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed. Great.

I nodded my head as Grace dismissed me out of her office, gave her a small wave. I stepped out of the studio, took a deep breath trying to process what just happened in the last few minutes. I still couldn’t believe it.

My phone went off. Four missed calls and numerous text messages from Diane.

I called her back, and the second she picked up, she was already yelling. “Where the hell are you?”

A dull throb in my temple ached. “I got held up, I’ll be there in ten.”

“What happened?”

I sighed and began walking down the sidewalk. “You’re never going to believe me if I told you.”

The café was already packed by the time I got there, the low hum of conversation blending with the clinking of cups and the hiss of the espresso machine.

I spotted Diane almost immediately, she sat by the window, with a half-eaten bagel and small bits of crumbs on the table. She glanced up just as I approached her and instantly raised a brow.

“You’re late,” she said, pointing at me with her bagel in hand. “Again.”

“Sorry, I got held up.” I told her as I dropped into the chair across from her.

She playfully scoffed and held up her now empty cup, “Enough that I already finished one latte.” She smirked before setting it down. “Alright, spill. What was so important that you hung up on me and left me hanging here?”

“Grace.”

Diane’s eyes widened at that. She knew how rare it was for me–or anyone in the studio– to get caught up in Grace’s hair to get sent to her office. There were only good things I have told Diane about my boss over the years. Like the time she gave all the studio employees a gift certificate to the infamous spa in the north side of the city. It was generous of her, but it was quite expensive.

I took a deep breath before explaining to my friend of my new summer plans. Having to say it all out loud made me realize how real this was. It was going to happen and I wasn’t just dreaming in that office.

“Wait. I’m sorry, what?” Diane nearly choked on her coffee.

“Yep,” I popped the ‘p’, and nodded at her. “You heard me.”

For a split second, there was silence.

Her face lit up accompanied with a squeal. Oh no. Here we go.

Diane’s expression was something between shock and excitement, “Syd, are you serious? That’s freaking nuts!” Unaware of her volume, she earned the glances of other customers in the café. We were both quick to give them apologetic nods. She leaned closer across the table, her voice quieter this time, “That’s huge, Syd!”

I scoffed, “I wouldn’t call it that.”

Diane grinned, “Are you kidding? You get to train professional athletes. NHL players. Do you know how many people would kill for that opportunity?”

She was right. It’s not everyday that you get to work with athletes in the big leagues. Anyone in the studio could have easily taken this job and taken the news a lot more lightly and professionally than I did. But no, oddly enough I didn’t have any other choice or say in the decision.

I shook my head at her, slumping into my seat. “It’s not that simple.”

Diane tilted her head as if I grew another pair of eyes, “What’s not simple about that? You get to train with your brother and I don’t think that’s all too difficult, right? Shouldn’t it be easier since he is your brother?”

As much as I loved my brother, we liked keeping our lives separate from each other. He had his career, and I had mine. Not saying that I wasn’t proud of him or embarrassed that my brother was one of the hockey stars in the league. I was very proud that he achieved his dreams, why wouldn’t I be? I just liked supporting him from the sidelines.

“Me and Simon are close but–” I paused, tracing the rim of my coffee cup with my finger. “We don’t mix our careers or get involved in each other’s business. Now, I’m being thrown right into it and it just…complicates things.”

Diane watched me carefully, “Is that really a bad thing?”

I hesitated before answering her. “I’ve never really been a part of his hockey world, this was totally unexpected. Hell, I don’t even know if he knows about it. He hasn’t texted me since yesterday before the game.”

“Okay, so you’re only training your brother. Big deal. It’s not like you’re training with the whole team.” She waved a hand, acting like that was the only issue I was dealing with.

I shot her a look, I accidentally left out a big piece of information while explaining to her.

“And Quinn Hughes,” I added flatly.

Diane’s jaw dropped to the floor, “Wait–Quinn Hughes? As in, the captain of the team and the best defensemen in the league ‘Quinn Hughes’?”

As far as hockey goes for Diane, she had no interest in the sport, unless there was eye-candy on the team. When it came down to the NHL, the only names she was familiar with were the ‘good-looking’ guys, my brother, and Quinn Hughes.

I nodded, then took a quick sip of my coffee, “Apparently, my job is to make sure they don’t kill each other during the summer.”

“Wow. That’s definitely…something.”

“Exactly.” I crossed my arms. “I barely know Quinn. But, Simon? He’s been going off about the guy for years. And now I’m supposed to train them. Together? That’s a shitshow waiting to happen.”

Diane shrugged her shoulders, looking at me thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s an opportunity.”

My brow raised at that, “To do what? Watch my brother have a meltdown? Yeah, no thanks.”

“But–”

I groaned, “Diane.”

She was teasing, and she never fails to get away with it. “I’m just saying, maybe this isn’t the worst thing. You’ll be challenged. You’ll make new connections. And–” She paused. “Who knows, this might just be the most interesting thing going for you right now since the accident–nevermind, sorry.”

Ouch. That stung.

But, Diane was right. As much as I’d like to think that my life was perfect and everything was going the right places, deep down, I knew it wasn’t. Ever since I got hurt and went through months of recovering, the course of direction my life was heading towards took a hard turn.

Now, I have ended up here. But, I wasn’t not grateful as things could have been worse, very worse. Over the years, I had to learn how to go with the flow and accept it.

I knew she didn’t mean to say that with bad intentions. Diane always wanted what was best for me, and I was glad that she felt that way since I would do the same with her. She was my longest friend for as long as I could remember.

She gave me an apologetic smile, “If anything, maybe your brother can introduce you to his teammates or–”

I playfully shook my head, then stood up with my empty cup in my hands. “I’m getting more coffee.”

She laughed, “Fine. But, I am not done talking about this.”

I gave her a look over my shoulder before heading over to the front counter. The café was even busier now, and I had to squeeze past a few people waiting for their orders. I handed my cup to the barista, tapping my fingers against the counter as I waited.

Diane’s words lingered in my head. Maybe this was a big opportunity, Maybe I was overreacting. But there was still that anxious feeling in my stomach, my subconscious telling me that I was not ready for this.

The barista handed me the the refilled cup, and I turned back towards our table–

Only to be met with a sudden, solid force.

The next thing I knew, the warmth of hot coffee spilled down the front of my hoodie. I sucked in a sharp breath as the heat seared against my skin right through the fabric. “Fuck!”

The impact rattled me, as I staggered back, barely managing to keep hold of the cup and maintaining my balance. I looked down at the damage, dark brown stains spread across the pale gray fabric.

I clenched my jaw. Just perfect.

“Shit, I–”

I glanced up, ready to give whoever it was a piece of my fucking mind and–

I froze. No, it can’t be.

Quinn fucking Hughes.

Stood right in front of me, low and behold, looked just as surprised as I did.

Up close, he was taller than I expected–maybe I was just short– lean but solid, his broad shoulders filling out his fitted black hoodie effortlessly. His dark hair was slightly tousled under his hat; damp at the ends like he’d just finished practice or a workout, and completely blended with the crowd of people as if he wasn’t one of the biggest NHL players in the league.

I blinked, my brain lagging for a second. I’ve seen him on TV, many times before, in clips that Simon had angrily sent me after a few bad games, but seeing him up close was different. Very different.

He had his own unique attractiveness, I won’t lie. He had the light scruffy stubble around his jaw–sharp jawline, and piercing greenish blue eyes that made him look intense, but there was a softness in the way that he blinked at me, momentarily thrown off.

What was he doing here of all places?

He didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t saying anything and ran a hand through his hair, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I, uh–” He hesitated, looking vaguely horrified at the sight of my hoodie. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t paying attention.”

I exhaled through my nose, forcing myself to calm down despite the feeling of coffee soaking into my hoodie. “Yeah, no kidding.”

He pulled a handful of napkins from the counter and offered them to me, “Here.”

“Thanks.” I took them from his grasp and attempted to clean the stain, knowing it wouldn’t do much but tried anyway.

“I can buy you another one,” Quinn offered, nodding towards the counter. “Or, at least a new hoodie?

I shook my head, frustrated that the napkins were making my hoodie worse. “I don’t need anything from an NHL player, alright–”

Oh shit. My eyes widened as soon as the words slipped from my mouth.

That caught him off guard, and so had I.

Quinn’s expression lit up and brows furrowed instantly at that, curiosity flashing in his eyes. “So, you know who I am?”

“Yes, I do.” I said in a tone indicating that it wasn’t a good thing.

He studied me for a moment. Probably thinking that I was a hockey fan or whatnot.

“Can I at least get your name or number?” He paused, scrambling to rephrase what his intentions were behind that question. “To replace your hoodie or pay for dry cleaning, anything to fix what I caused.”

He sounded pretty genuine and his intentions were nothing but pure, hopefully.

I gave him a look, “I’m not making you buy me a hoodie. I can take care of this–” I looked down at the mess. “–myself. So, I think I’ll respectfully pass up on that offer of yours.”

As I was about to turn my back on him, his fingers found the material of my sleeve, and swiftly pulled me back. “Hey look, I’d feel really bad if I left here without making it up to you.”

“Oh, really?”

He only nodded, which amused me.

“I think I can survive without your help, but thanks.”

Quinn’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile, but thought the better of it before I turned around.

I felt his eyes linger on me as soon as I made my way back to Diane. She watched the whole thing and she looked like she was about to lose her damn mind once I sat down.

I glanced over my shoulder back to where Quinn stood. I was so lost in that interaction that I hadn’t noticed two other of his Canuck buddies were standing behind him. I watched them laughing–most likely teasing him–about what they witnessed. Great, that was just great.

“What the actual fuck just happened, Syd?”

I wish I knew.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes x oc #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #vancouver canucks #nhl #nhl imagine #jack hughes #luke hughes #qh43

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eliounora · 1 day ago

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I've been trying to draw and feeling overwhelmed with all my ideas, and I had this thought I thought I might share. now that I've graduated and work full-time, I find myself missing drawing a lot. of course it has been my primary hobby and my most developed skill, but previously, even in university, I had more time to draw. now a lot of my time goes into necessary tasks like exercise, household chores, socialising, and resting, so while previously I might have spent my evenings staying up late and drawing, now I fall asleep before I can even start lol

though I have always liked drawing, I'm just now realising how important it is to me, which explains why I've been so frustrated with it. in the past few years, in my busy adult schedule, I've resorted to tools that make the process faster (relying heavily on references, sometimes tracing difficult parts like hands, skipping backgrounds, not even attempting challenging poses or perspectives) and while I've learned a lot, I have now reached a point where I feel both afraid to try drawing without a full reference and bored of not being able to implement my own ideas. because my end goal is to just draw something and get something drawn for the sake of it, I've lost the enjoyment of the process, and I've become too focused on the result being good. what I realised is that the bit I enjoy about drawing is the challenge, trying to get that one difficult bit right. and storytelling!

so I've decided to make more time to sit down, get back to the basics, and challenge myself! I'll even try to draw traditionally more, and somebody requested legolas and gimli, so here's a hand-drawn rough sketch of them:

#nor's rambles #A RAMBLE INDEED. and why yes i own a cheap low-quality scanner #you can see here with elf ears that i first draw a normal human ear and then just elongate it LMAO #this is not to say i'll stop using references. again. hands are difficult. but i'll try to utilise them more creatively!#i'm also convinced my job not being in my field and generally unsuitable for me is one reason why i'm so exhausted #so if/when i get a better job i hope i'll be able to Heal

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stargazerlion · 12 hours ago

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I say this as someone who has almost went down several different pipelines, expecting people, especially teenagers (as I suspect Person A is likely to be) to be able to magically recognize and pull themselves up by their bootstraps out of the minefield of propaganda pipelines specifically meant to target them and being morally judged as soon as they approach any mine thats only half buried and they in theory could have a chance of detecting and then being told that clearly that means they want to step on a mine/fall down the pipeline, is unrealistic. Support for each other goes beyond unions and soup kitchens, it also includes helping people find their blind spots using compassion and grace before they get into trouble. One of my moots from irl I want to tell a story about. It was several years ago, I was just starting to be well away from alt right spaces but still had some of these ideas left in me, and we were talking about a piece of art I made, I dont remember what, and they made a comment that all art is political in context of my art. At the time, this defaulted in my mind to a "leftists reading too much into things bc woke" mentality and I responded back that well mine wasnt. And they responded along the lines of "ok, thanks for sharing." That then left me room to later realize how knee jerk and unthoughtful my response was, and even to realize some of the unintentional political influences on this particular peice of art. Through that simple acceptance and not rejecting me as a lost cause, I learned something, learned about myself, and became a bit more woke even through the realization that they were right! If someones down the pipeline theyre down the pipeline, they may need a specialist or luck to help. But if youre watching your friend wander into the Nazi minefield, the good thing to do imo is to show them what the mines look like, tell them "you can get a closer look if you want and will accept the risk, so you can better identify them later, but dont try to see what they feel like underneath your feet" instead of just leaving them to struggle (total rejection) or saying they want to be blown up all along (deciding theyre already a Nazi at this point)

Trigger warning: mention of Nazi

*Person A is NOT German

*This poll was submitted to us and we simply posted it so people could vote and discuss their opinions on the matter. If you’d like for us to ask the internet a question for you, feel free to drop the poll of your choice in our inbox and we’ll post them anonymously (for more info, please check our pinned post).

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pepshee · 2 days ago

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Jealousy, or Jealous Hee: Second First Dates

⋆˙ ⋆⭒˚.⋆

Pairing - ex!heeseung x fem!reader Genre - smut, a bit of fluff, angst Synopsis - After you hooked up with you ex-boyfriend, Heeseung, who had broken up with you out of the blue you didn't know what would happen afterward. Will you finally get your answer as to why? Word Count - 5.4k Warnings - cursing, mentions of alcohol, a bit of angst towards the end, smut, reader is insecure, mentions of manipulation and peer pressure, heeseung is an asshole in the first half, some cringe (oops), mentions of Jake & other idols, mentions of possessive heeseung, heeseung is desperate and begs for forgiveness, a little fluff, cream pie, fingering, p in v, plot twist-ish?, lmk if I missed anything!! MDNI 18+ A/N: thank you guys for the love on the first part i really appreciate it 😭 i didn't expect ppl to actually like it but im really glad you did! also if you have c.ai, i make bots over there too! my invite code here! also.. please keep in mind this is only my second time ever writing a fanfic so if it's ass in your opinion then idk what to tell you... i hope you do enjoy tho thank you in advance for reading !! <3 (even if you didn't like it)

PART ONE HERE

Waking up in your own dorm after you had hooked up with your ex at a house party last night wasn't what you expected. You thought you'd be next to him, but of course, that was crushed. At least he was a gentleman and brought you home, right? There was one question that lingered in your mind, what happens now? It was disappointing not waking up next to him, but then again, what did you really expect?

You get up out of your bed seeing your roommate's bed is empty, but then the smell of bacon hits you, she must be cooking. After getting dressed you make your way to the kitchen, you are so glad your university was at least prestigious so they had bigger dorms than the average one. You had a raging headache, as expected from the alcohol. "Hey Giselle," your voice a bit scratchy due to having just woken up.

Giselle turns around, you can see the slight concern in her eyes but also a hint of a smirk. "Y/N, you're up," she says softly, however, you still had a ton of questions in your mind. "What happened last night?" You're a bit embarrassed at the fact you had to even ask that question.

"Well.. After we went to the party we all split up and I assume you went to drink alcohol, cause the next thing we knew you were being brought out of the party by Heeseung. You were completely asleep, nothing woke you up," your face heats up a bit at the memory of getting drunk and hooking up with your ex-boyfriend who fucked you over. "Right.. and did he tell you any details about anything..” You hoped that he didn’t because it would be even more embarrassing for your friends to know you had sex with your ex who fucked you over.

Those hopes are immediately crushed by Giselle’s reply, “Y/N you were so drunk you had sex with Heeseung, your fucking ex and you don’t even remember it,” she chuckles at the end of her sentence.

Damn.. Well, now your friends know you hooked up with your ex-boyfriend.

“It was an accident..”

“Y/N it’s okay to want him back, but..” she paused for a moment emphasizing the word ‘but.’ “You shouldn’t let him get it so easily,” she continued.

Then an idea hit you, seduction.

“Giselle holy shit,” she perked up at your words while she plated the breakfast she just finished making for the two of you.

“What'd you think of girl?”

“I’m gonna post slightly revealing photos of myself on my Instagram story with little subtle jabs at him like he does to me, I’m gonna get back at him by showing him what he made himself lose,” you couldn't stop the grin that formed on your face.

“You mean you’re gonna ‘show him what he’s missing?' Isn’t that super cliché?” she might be right.. But he did it first.

“Well he’s been posting his new girls to make me jealous, so why don’t I try seducing him, and if he messages me I just play hard to get. Like you said, I shouldn’t let him get to me so easily,” you relayed your reasoning for the idea and you see Giselle think for a moment considering your words. “Okay you know what, maybe it is a good idea, after all, he fucked you over,” she almost started grinning.

After having eaten the breakfast Giselle cooked, you ran to your closet to pull over any sort of revealing clothes you had. You find a slightly-too-small black tank top, and grey shorts. You had originally planned on being comfy today since you were still hungover—you were wearing a hoodie and sweatpants, but you quickly change into the tank top and the shorts and then did your makeup.

You decided to take a selfie in bed, and so you lay down and grabbed your phone. You swiped right to open your camera, and you positioned it in a way where it would show your cleavage just enough so that it's not obvious.

It took you a bit to get the perfect one, but when you did, you open Instagram and thought of a caption to put.

'i miss you. missing you is hard, but i bet missing me makes you hard'

You knew it was definitely cringe, but it got your point across so you could live with the cringe right?

You'd clicked the 'Add to story' button almost too fast. You and Heeseung don't follow each other anymore but you know he stalks your account. He uses his friend's account to do it without it being suspicious, which you can't blame him because why else would you have Giselle's password if not to stalk your ex-boyfriend cause he stalks you?

After logging into Giselle's account you tapped on Heeseungs story to see what he had posted. You immediately regret your decision because you're met with a photo of him and his friends, with alcohol, snacks, and of course, Heeseung is with a girl. He even had the audacity to put 'this could've been you' god this asshole doesn't know when to stop does he?

He was just being nice to you last night after you hooked up, why does he keep doing this to you? Once again with the taunting...

You were so lucky not to have Saturday classes, it meant you could go anywhere you wanted to. Believe it or not, you were actually majoring in dance, and even though you didn't have to go to classes, you still at least wanted to go to the studio.

────୨ৎ────

Dancing was therapeutic to you, everyone told you not to do it as your major because it wouldn't take you anywhere they said to just leave it a hobby. However, before you even graduated college you had offers from Idol companies trying to scout you. Usually, you would have celebrated that with Heeseung but that obviously wasn't an option.

You had spent a few hours dancing and you were getting really hungry and tired so you sprayed some perfume and reapplied deodorant before grabbing your bag and leaving the studio.

You didn't want to go out to eat so you decided to settle on the on-campus cafeteria which thankfully makes decent food. It was just about lunch time so it was quite packed there. You walked up to one of the counters and looked at the menu, but you still couldn't quite see so you took a couple of steps back until you felt your back hit something... or was it, someone?

The hands that flew to your waist were a clear indicator of who it was without even needing to turn around, it was him.

Too petrified to turn around, you just stand there frozen, not knowing what to do.

"You think you're slick huh? I saw what you posted on Instagram, it's about me, isn't it? In that case, you may be right," It's like your whole body failed to react, it didn't know how to. "I will say, whatever you're trying to do, it's working," he leaned down to whisper that into your ear.

Before you can respond he lets go and walks away, finally turning around to watch him leave. What is his problem?

You ordered your food, which was tteokbokki and kimbap.

Throughout your lunch you keep thinking about what had happened with Heeseung, did he do it on purpose? There's no way he was just coincidentally there right?

Whatever his reasoning was, you didn't care, he was trying to get to you.

When you finished your lunch you didn't know what else to do today so instead you figured you'd at least hang out with your friends so you took out your phone.

────୨ৎ────

It didn't take long for you all to agree on the mall, and you're currently waiting for the others to arrive. You and Giselle had gone together since you're roommates so you were just waiting for Karina, Yujin, and Moka. Minnie wasn't able to make it since she had a test to study for.

A little while longer the other three finally arrived, the five of you walking through the mall and looking through various stores.

You decided to take this as an opportunity to buy more clothes to fuck with Heeseung. The clothes you were buying were either the slightest bit too small, making them tight so they cling to your curves, or showed some sort of skin, some a lot, some just enough that would make him crazy.

You see, one thing about Heeseung is while you two were dating he was such a sweetheart when you two were in public, but as soon as you got home is when his possessive side would show. He'd recount all the times a man looked at you a bit too much or too closely and he'd fuck your brains out.

That was one of your favorite things, how good he'd fuck you when you wore crop tops, skirts, shorts, or tank tops. He didn't control what you'd wear, he let you do whatever, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't wear revealing clothes in public on purpose cause you were horny for him to fuck you at home.

Any other time he was a sweetheart, he was perfect, he wouldn't hurt a fly but when you had sex that all went out the window.

Now, however, you're buying revealing clothes to piss him off, to make him break, to get revenge, to make him beg for mercy.

You felt as if this revenge plan was a bit bland, but you couldn't think of anything else but to just drive him insane.

You and the girls had a lot of fun, and got told to shut up a few times from laughing too loud... but at least you have had fun.

It was 8 PM by the time you and Giselle made it back to the dorms. You made it just in time for curfew so you wouldn't get in trouble. You'd always thought it was stupid for a university to give adults a curfew, but it was pretty influential so you guess the university just didn't want its reputation ruined by their students dropping out to take care of babies.

Curfew didn't do anything anyway, you just couldn't leave your specific dorm building after 8:30 PM, you didn't know what would happen if you did it anyway but you honestly didn't care enough to find out.

────୨ৎ────

That morning when you woke up you immediately thought about what to wear to make Heeseung jealous, to make him mad.

You reached over and grabbed your phone and opened Instagram in order to check Heeseungs story, of course, he has a new one. You tap on it and see a video, clearly taken by a friend of his and it's him, with a new girl—because of course it is who fucking else could it be—the video was Heeseung and his new girl, who you identified as Julie Han. She was in your dance group, and she was really good and she's really pretty. You've always admired her beauty, but also felt a bit insecure. You wanted to be like her so badly. Heeseung didn't know that, or maybe he did considering you two broke up before you even had the chance to meet your classmates.

Seeing this rubbed even more salt into the wound, the girl you'd admired, and wanted to be friends with, and that made you feel insecure. Obviously it wasn't her fault you were insecure, she was super nice to you, and she didn't say anything to make you insecure it was just all in your head.

Seeing the video of him with Julie, he had his arm around her, and they were clearly flirting. It made your blood boil, but at the same time made your eyes water. You didn't know if you should be angry, or if you should cry.

You didn't know if it was on purpose, or if he was just doing his usual girl-to-girl shit. If he did know then he was a complete asshole for using her against you.

The truth is, he did know.

Yesterday, when you were walking to the cafeteria for lunch, you were recording a voice message to send to your friends. You had run into Julie while leaving the studio. That reminded you that you hadn't even told your friends about her so that's why you were recording a voice message.

Heeseung was with you, well not with you, rather.. behind you. He was walking with his friends, and he hadn't even realized it was you until you started speaking. He couldn't stop himself from eavesdropping and when he heard what you said about Julie, he knew exactly what to do.

He wanted you back, desperately, he knew you wouldn't easily accept him back into your life so he decided to try and make you desperate, just as much as he is. He used Julie, he wanted to make you as jealous as possible so you crawl back to him. When he saw your first story with the subtle jab at him and the cleavage he knew you were trying to clap back at him, you were trying to give him a taste of his own medicine. He'd be a liar if he said it wasn't working because it was. He hated that you had posted that, that you were revealing yourself to others. He knew he fucked up, and he knew he needed you back.

After you had seen the story of Julie and Heeseung you knew you had to strike again. You got out of bed and went to your closet grabbing one of the bags of new clothes you'd gotten yesterday. After dumping the clothes on your bed you finally picked out an outfit you knew would rile him up. It was a pair of white shorts, with a dark blue top. The top was pretty much a bralette, it's not something you'd wear out, but you bought it for the purpose of making Heeseung jealous—also in case you decided to go to the bar or another party—you went to your bathroom to do your hair and makeup before taking the photo.

After you finished those you posed in front of your mirror with your phone in hand. You tried doing poses that would show off your ass or would maximize the amount of skin you show in the picture.

Finally, after about 5-10 minutes you got the perfect shot, and you went straight to Instagram to post it.

With a small filter added, all you had to do was add the caption, but what should you even put? You had no clue honestly, you weren't as witty as you had originally thought.

Maybe posting it without a witty caption would be better, making less noise will create more noise.

So that's exactly what you did. You uploaded the photo to your story and waited. Waited for Heeseung to see it., until he did.

Heeseung went onto Instagram after he hung out with his friends, plus Julie, and he saw that you had posted on your story. He clicked on it and what he saw was something he expected, but also didn't. He hated that you were posting shit like this. He couldn't take it anymore, he slid up and started typing out a reply to your story.

It was about three hours after you had posted it when you got a notification while you were scrolling through tik tok.

'heeseung.lhs69 replied to your story: Y/N can you knock this off?'

Seeing the notification shocked you, first off why does he have '69' in his username? Is he serious? Since when did he have 7th-grade boy humor? It was probably the fault of his dumbass friends.

You didn't really know how to reply to him, but what matters is your plan worked. He fell for your bait finally.

you: what're you talking abt ?

hee: you know what I'm talking abt y/n

you: no i don't think i do heeseung

hee: we should talk in person y/n

you: ykw fine when and where

hee: ice cream place where we had our first date, 6 pm, today

you: k i'll see you then ig

Although it didn't seem like it, you were really nervous. He seemed serious even if it was just over text. It was only 4:30, so you had about an hour and thirty minutes to get ready or contemplate your choices, probably both.

You started getting ready, you didn't know how to dress really. You went for simple baggy jeans, a grey tank top, and a zip-up sweater. It was now 5:30, and so you left your dorm and started walking to said ice cream place.

After entering you saw him.. he was sitting at a booth. He looked quite nervous actually which is a big contrast to how you've been seeing him for two and a half years.

You slid into the seat in front of him and he immediately looked up from the table to look at you. "Hey," his voice was soft and gentle. You looked into his eyes, his soft, big doe eyes.. Looking into his eyes was your favorite activity when you were together, they were so beautiful. "Hey," you replied, also in a soft and gentle tone.

"I think we have to talk Y/N, I just want to explain myself," you let out a sigh knowing that he's right, you do have to talk. How could he leave you like that? "Explain it to me Heeseung, explain to me why you left me like the way you did," he was immediately saddened when you raised your voice a little at him.

"Y/N, I'll explain.. Please just calm down. I don't have a good reason.. Jake, my roommate, well we were talking and he told me about all the girls he's been with, and he asked me about how many girls he and I told him we've been together for five years and he started laughing. He then told me he was gonna invite a couple of friends, which he did," you didn't interrupt him the whole time. You just listened as he continued to talk.

"When they came over, it was four of them, Jake told them what I said about you and then they all started going on about how I'm too young to be tied down like that, I should live a little. I originally shot it down but they started giving me alcohol. The more they talked about the benefits of being single, and the more they talked about all the fun they have I started to believe them. I felt as though I was tying you down, I was a burden, that you'd be better off without me," you didn't know if you should be pissed off or pity him, he was influenced by his 'friends.'

"I started to believe what they were telling me, and they were telling me I should just let you go because you're probably getting bored. I was scared of the future, I was scared you'd break it off cause you were bored, and so I broke up with you first. I started doing all the things they did, hookup, smoke, drink, party and I did it all to move on from you," his story was making sense, that's 100% something his friends would do but you were still pissed at him.

"That doesn't explain to me why you didn't just think to talk to me and express your feelings to me. We could've talked this out, but you didn't even bother to text me," he sighed knowing you were right, and he didn't even have an excuse.

"I don't have an excuse, I'm an idiot Y/N. I love you so much and I wasn't thinking, they manipulated me, and I believed it all.. It was selfish of me and I know what I did was wrong. I hurt you and I'm just realizing it. It took me this long to realize how much of an asshole I was, my actions weren't okay," he looked back down at the table like he was in shame.

"Why would you post girls in your story though? I know it was to make me jealous, your story makes sense but that part doesn't add up," honestly you believed his story. He's always been quite gullible and pliable. Obviously, you never used that as an advantage, you'd never take advantage of him.

"Well... I wanted you back but I didn't know how to contact you.. How to communicate it, how to get through to you. When you posted that on your story earlier I couldn't hold back. I know you've been using Giselle's account to view my story, and that's not exactly relevant, but I've been doing it cause I miss you, and I want you. My new persona, it's all fake. I don't like doing this stuff. I just wanted to fit in and forget about you, I was depressed and vulnerable when Jake started doing what he was doing. I love you, I miss you, I want you, and I don't have any good excuses."

He's right, his excuse isn't exactly good, he knows he fucked up, and did you wrong. He had no actual good excuse, he had no actual reason for the thing with the girls.

"You should've just talked to me Heeseung," you were disappointed in him, and you resented him. "I know Y/N, I'm an idiot, and I made a selfish, vulnerable mistake. Please, I want you to forgive me, I want to be with you again, I want to be with you forever," those last few words were kind of shocking to you. Did he mean that? You both had discussed marriage and the future briefly and that ended in a big argument so it was never brought up again.

"What are you even saying?"

"I'm saying I see a future with you, and I know we had a huge fight about the future which also led to our break up, but I'm serious. I want you back. Please," he didn't stutter, not one bit and that solidified his point. He was serious.

"Okay, but you still hurt me, you still did all these bad things that made you an asshole. I can't just forget what you did to me," he was so, so desperate for you, so desperate to get you back to him. "Please."

He kept repeating himself,

"Please Y/N,"

"Please,"

It was almost pathetic how he was begging, how he was so desperate, but at the same time, it was so sexy. You had never seen him beg you before, he'd always been the top. You looked into his eyes, and he was staring right back at you waiting for a response.

It was difficult, you didn't know if you should forgive him, after all, he happened to fall in with the wrong crowd, he was manipulated, he was molded.

"Heeseung, you still fucked me over, you still ruined me, and broke my heart. Don't you know how hard this is?" he nodded, he knew you'd be hesitant. He never expected you to give in immediately and he knew he would have to convince you. However, there was one detail he left out, one that would change everything.

"Y/N, there was a detail I left out, and it seems that you completely forgot that you also played a part in this. You're not completely innocent," you were confused, how could that even be?

"When Jake was giving me alcohol and convincing me of all these things, I texted you, I needed you, I needed your support in that moment, and I know you weren't busy either. You ignored me, ignored me when I needed you most. That, plus all the manipulation, it broke me, it made me send that text, made me spiral into who I am now," holy shit. He was right.

Nearly three years ago, two days before your first day as a college freshman, you were decorating your dorm. You and Giselle went shopping for decorations and you weren't busy at all that whole day which Heeseung knew.

You had seen the notifications coming in, you read them and you didn't reply. You remember the texts, you remember it all.

'y/n i need you rn'

'babe pls reply'

'i need you please im serious y/n pls respond'

You were so caught up in your dorm decorations, and shopping you ignored Heeseung when he needed you the most, when he needed you to save him.

You weren't busy, you just simply didn't reply.

It was partly your fault.

"Heeseung.." now it was your turn to beg, to ask for forgiveness, and it didn't feel very good. "I'm so sorry, it's my fault. I saw the texts and I just ignored them, and I don't know why. You needed me, you needed help, and I wasn't there.. Holy shit," you wanted to reach for his hand, to hold him, but you knew you didn't have the right to.

"Y/N, I needed you, I really did, and you weren't there. We both fucked up, we both contributed to the end of our relationship. What matters is that I realized what was happening, that I changed for the worst, and that I realized that they had manipulated me, and peer pressured me. We both messed it up, and I want to fix it, please," his words resonated with you and he was absolutely correct. You both fucked up.

"What do we do? Do you mean you want to get back together?" you were hoping he would say yes, you did want to get back with him, I mean that was literally the whole goal.

"Yes, I want you to be mine again, I still love you, I never stopped," you immediately nodded in response telling him you also wanted to be back together.

"I missed you, babe," the nickname had always made your heart flutter but hearing it after all these years that's not in the context of a one-night stand made your cheeks heat up.

It felt like your first date all over again, you're even in the same place, a second first date.

"Let's go back to my dorm, Jake isn't there, and he won't return till like the afternoon tomorrow," you nodded and got up. He grabbed your hand, dragging you out of the ice cream shop and back towards campus.

After you arrived at his dorm he couldn't hold himself back and immediately crashed his lips to yours. You instantly started kissing him back. It felt more real this time, it was filled with love, passion, and longing.

You felt your back hit the wall as his hands grabbed onto your hips, and your fingers got lost in his hair.

He broke away from the kiss before grabbing the hem of your shirt and pulling it off of you. "You've been driving me insane, you know, with those revealing photos of yours. Especially the one of your cleavage. I missed your tits so bad baby," his hands grab your clothed tits. You can feel him reach behind your back and make quick work of the clasp he was clearly skilled.

When he got it off you could feel his mouth attach to one of your nipples. You let out a small moan which just egged him on. "Hee— please," he let go of your nipple and looked into your eyes, but that didn't last long because he immediately started kissing your neck, and biting it gently while he unbuttoned your jean shorts.

"Shit I missed this so fucking much Y/N," you clenched around nothing at his words, you could feel that your underwear was ruined, and how drenched they were, and so could he.

Once he got your shorts off he threw them somewhere in the room, it didn't even matter. You felt his hands trace your underwear and touched your clothed pussy. He let out a groan at the feeling of how wet you were, "holy shit Y/N, you're so fucking wet already," he took your hand dragging you to his bed. He debated doing it on Jake's bed for revenge, but he didn't want any more problems or misunderstandings, he just wanted you.

Now you were lying on his bed with him hovering above you. This time it felt more real, it felt more passionate rather than when you were drunk and stupid.

He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your underwear and pulled it off, and when he did you got shy and tried to close your legs but he wouldn't let you. He gripped your thighs and pulled them apart again giving him a view of your bare, dripping pussy. The look of pure hunger in his eyes was unmistakable.

He ran one of his hands down your thigh, then to your inner thigh, and finally reached your core. He ran a finger through your folds teasing your entrance. You were so desperate you couldn't help but moan.

The wetness of your cunt made him groan, and his pants tighten. He stuck one finger in, and then a second. The intrusion made you moan and squirm, but that only made him smirk.

He thrusted his fingers in and out of you slightly curling them to hit that spot that makes you scream.

"Fuck— Right there Heeseung!" You moan out.

"Yeah? You like that baby?" He chuckled a little, and the smirk on his face grew.

He continued to move his fingers and started going even faster. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach start to tighten and you knew what was coming. "Heeseung.. Shit," he nodded slowly and spoke "Come on, cum on my fingers baby," his words made you clench around his fingers before you finally reached your limit with a moan loud enough you were sure the neighboring dorms could hear.

Both yours and his breathing were fast and heavy. He was still hovering above you while he looked at your face which was covered in a thin layer of sweat. "Can you take my cock, or are you completely spent?" He asked the question in a soft tone not wanting to hurt you or overwhelm you.

"I need your cock Heeseung," the softness in his eyes instantly left now replaced with a look of desire, and lust. "Then that's exactly what you're gonna get baby," he started removing his clothing starting with his shirt, then his belt, his pants, and finally his boxers.

When he took his boxers off you couldn't stop staring at his dick. The thick, long, veiny shaft was one you had missed in these past years. "I can see you staring my love," you couldn't even stop yourself and you just kept staring.

He gave himself a couple of pumps spreading the precum along his shaft. He then lined himself up with your entrance, he hesitated for a moment looking at you, "Do you want it rough, or slow?"

"Please give it to me rough," he didn't give you a second to think before he pushed inside of you quickly, and immediately bottomed out.

"Fuck!" You moaned out at the feeling of the stretch of your hole from his cock.

He grabbed your thighs tightly allowing him to thrust into you more efficiently. You felt him hit your G-spot every time he moved in and out. You felt your climax approaching and you bucked your hips as he groaned feeling you clench around him.

You finally went over the edge and came onto his cock, while you felt him release into you. His thrusts slowed to help you ride out your orgasm before he slowly pulled out, making you whine at the empty feeling.

He kissed your lips before lying down next to you. You turned to look at him and you stared into each other's eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Goodnight my love, I missed you so much. I won't fuck this up."

You were going to respond but the exhaustion caught up to you and you fell asleep in his arms, for the first time in years as his girlfriend.

TAGLIST : @clandestineself @kittympirty @azzy02 @wemalyri @jayhoonvroom @hwangswife4

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