#and people kept talking over him and for him

[illyrianbitch]

Are We Still Friends? — Part Three

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Azriel’s attempts at an apology fall short, Cassian’s advice backfires, and confrontations force both you and Azriel to face uncomfortable truths—though not the same ones.

Warnings: angst. a heavy grudge, a male incapable of owning up to his mistakes, a well-meaning but wrong-steering best friend, verbal fighting, physical fighting, brief mentions of blood

Word Count: 8.5k

this was going to be two parts but... for the drama, ive decided to offer a feast and not just a meal

Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Azriel hadn’t meant to let it sit for this long. 

His shadows had been needling him for days, hissing reminders at the edge of his mind: Fix this. He intended to. He just didn’t know how. There were too many eyes on him now, too many people that expected his great, grand apology. 

It was hard to focus on anything else.  Even when he was with Selene, her words barely touched him. His mind was consumed by the unease that gnawed at him, the constant pull of you, somewhere, still angry over what had happened.

Azriel wanted to ask Selene about her words. Why they’d taken root in his mind, why he’d echoed them back to you. But he didn’t. He let Selene talk, smiled when she asked for his opinion, and tried to let the softness of her lips on his drown out the unease.

He didn’t know exactly why it felt so much harder with you— felt harder to argue, felt even harder to apologize. Everything else in his life, every delicate situation, every broken, jagged thing, he could attempt to handle with steady hands. But you—every time he stepped near you lately, it felt like stepping onto unstable ground. One wrong move, and everything shifted beneath him.

His shadows had made sure to remind him, trailing after you through the house, feeding him fragments of your clipped words to Mor, the slam of a cabinet door when you thought no one was paying attention. They weren’t even subtle about it anymore, curling around his ears like smoke, whispering your whereabouts.

He’d tried small things—leaving you treats, a smoothie for breakfast, or a croissant on a plate with your name carefully written on a napkin. But every time he returned to check, they were untouched. Once, he found the croissant flattened and crumpled, as if you’d squeezed it with a tight fist before tossing it back onto the plate. His shadows confirmed you were angry that night, their murmurs suggesting no coincidence in your evening spent with Mor.

Since then, every instinct told him to stay away and retreat, to wait until he’d figured out the right thing to say instead of stumbling through this mess. But waiting had gotten him here, hadn’t it? And now he was scrambling to undo weeks of silence. He thought, maybe, he should have something written out. Something properly planned, so that he knew what he wanted to tell you. But every time he thought about what to say, his mind came up blank. After hours of failure, he’d convinced himself that, with you, it would come naturally. It always had.

Or, at least, that’s what he kept repeating as he made his way downstairs, finding you in the kitchen.

You didn’t look up right away, but you knew he was there. 

“Are you sure you want to be in here without a chaperone?” you said, slicing into an apple slowly. “What if something happens?”

Shadows swirled around his shoulders. Angry, they whispered. As if he didn’t already know.

“Stop,” Azriel said. “Can we just... stop with the comments. Please.”

“Why?” You said, finally tossing a glance his way. “Is it bothering you?”

The look on your face was nothing like he expected. It wasn’t just anger. It was exhaustion, too. He didn’t like it, the way the shadows under your eyes and the stiffness in your shoulders spoke louder than anything you’d said to him in days. Didn’t like that he’d probably been the one to put that exhaustion there.

“Yes,” Azriel finally responded. “It is bothering me.”

You let out a laugh, something low and humorless, and it twisted in his chest. Should he  apologize for making you lose sleep, too? He’d already failed at the rest of it—what was one more thing to add to the pile?

Azriel cleared his throat. “Can we talk?”

“Now you want to talk?”

His fists clenched at his sides. The familiar burn of frustration, the heat of guilt, rose up his throat.  “How was I supposed to talk to you before when you’d just ignore me or say something snarky and leave?”

You stilled at his words and Azriel was almost tempted to embrace the small flicker of relief he felt. He should have apologized sooner, yes, but you had been avoiding him fervently. He convinced himself he wouldn’t have been able to apologize before now, anyways. 

“Okay,” you said, setting the knife down and leaning against the counter. “Well, I’m here now. So what do you want to say?”

Azriel’s eyes flicked to the knife instinctively. It was far enough from your hand that he probably didn’t need to worry. Probably. Not that he thought you’d do anything—though there was that one time Cassian had nearly stabbed him with a butter knife. He’d been significantly less angry than you were now. The memory did nothing to ease Azriel’s nerves. He pushed the image away.

This was it—his chance to fix things. To say all the things he’d been rehearsing in his head. But the words didn’t come. Instead, he found himself saying, “How was the meeting with Keir?”

The second the words left his mouth, he wanted to grab them out of the air and shove them back down his throat.  He could see it in the way your expression shifted—something sharp and disbelieving cutting across your face. Azriel didn’t need his shadows to tell him he’d screwed up again. The words had barely landed, and already he was bracing for the fallout.

“That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

Azriel froze. His shadows curled tighter around him. Stupid, stupid. He swallowed, desperately trying to correct it. There was no going back. “Rhys said I should expect some tension at the next meeting. I wanted the full picture.”

“The full picture?” You repeated darkly.  “Well the full picture wasn’t great, Azriel. Because you weren’t there. And because I was pissed—because of you.”

Azriel nodded, swallowing hard. Idiot. “Right. I shouldn’t have asked that. I should’ve—” He stopped himself. No, he couldn’t fix that now. He needed to focus on what mattered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally, the words leaving his mouth like rocks tumbling down a hill. He hated the way it sounded—weak, like he didn’t mean it. But he did. He just didn’t know how to make you believe it. Azriel continued, the apology already unraveling in his head. “For how you feel.”

“Oh,” you said softly, but there was a thick sarcasm in your voice. “You’re sorry for how I feel?”

Azriel rushed to correct himself. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Then what did you mean?” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, bitter laugh. “Do you even know what you’re trying to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then what are you sorry for?”

Azriel cursed himself for the hundredth time. Why was this so hard?

Because it was you, he heard his own voice reply, because he couldn’t bear the thought of failing you again. He knew he was failing—knew it in the sharp edge of your voice and the way your eyes narrowed every time he opened his mouth. And still, the right thing to say stayed maddeningly out of reach.

“I’m sorry that your feelings got hurt.”

His shadows slowly loosened, trailing down his body like they didn’t want to be associated with him anymore. He didn’t blame them. You blinked slowly at him, that look of exhaustion softening your features.

“That’s not an apology, Azriel. That’s—” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. “You know what? Nevermind.”

Azriel was transported back to the night of the fight, remembering how you’d said similar words then, too. He tried to salvage it again, but you were already moving, wiping the cutting board with a hurried motion. You didn’t notice as your apple, barely sliced, rolled off the counter’s edge. His shadows were there almost instantly, catching the fruit before it fell.

You reached out, and for a brief moment, your shoulders softened as you grabbed it from their hold.

“Where are you going?” Azriel asked. He wondered if his voice sounded as desperate as he felt. As frustrated.

“To train with Cassian,” you replied, still not looking at him. Your hand paused on the counter, and you glanced over your shoulder. “Do you think I should stop by Nesta first? Make sure she’s okay with me being around her mate? I wouldn’t want to ruin their relationship too.”

Azriel’s chest tightened. “Can we stop this?”

“No,” you replied swiftly, and Az could have sworn he heard a crack in your voice. 

And then the silence stretched. You ate the small slices of apple as you put things away, the quiet dragging on as he stood there, still unable to speak. Finally, you stopped and looked at him. He tried to offer a smile, something to soften the weight in the air. But you just frowned.

“Did you expect to wait this out? Wait until I got over it?”

Azriel shook his head, his voice low. “No. I never thought that. I just—”

“Just what?”

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You stared at him for a long moment, like you were seeing him for the first time, and the disappointment in your gaze made his chest feel tight. He should have been able to find the right words. But it didn’t matter anymore, not in this moment, not as you let out a small, bitter laugh, nodding as if something inside you had finally broken. 

“Always so afraid of saying the wrong thing that you never say the right one.”

Azriel opened his mouth, desperate to correct himself, to make it right, but the words just wouldn’t come. He had never considered that before—at least, not with you. He’d never thought he needed to say the right things, never cared enough to learn how.

“I never realized how much of an asshole you could be,” you said, with a final, almost dismissive glance. “I guess some females are into that.”

And then you were gone.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Training couldn’t have come at a better time.

You needed to hit something—needed to feel that release. Not in a petty, frustrated way, like slamming your fist into a wall, but in the desperate, raw way that left you aching. It was the only way to escape your frustration and, maybe, remind yourself that you were still you, despite how Azriel made you feel.

And for a while, it worked.

Cassian had spent centuries mastering the language of battle, the unspoken rhythm of war. He could read the tension in a stance, spot when someone's body didn’t follow through with the mind’s intentions. He didn’t get enough credit for it, you thought, his ability to read someone without words. He was looking at you now, with that critical eye, head tilted slightly, like he was waiting for you to crack. 

“Alright,” Cassian grunted as he parried another strike. “What’s on your mind?”

You ducked beneath his swing. “Nothing,” you said, deflecting the question with a swipe of your sword. Too fast, too aggressive.

Cassian dodged it easily, raising a brow. “Right. Because ‘nothing’ is exactly what makes you swing like you’re trying to decapitate me.”

The corner of his mouth quirked up, but you didn’t laugh. You weren’t in the mood for his teasing, no matter how good-natured it was.

“It’s nothing. Seriously.”

He rested the flat of his blade against his shoulder.  “Come on, spit it out before you take my head off for real. I’ll pester you all day.”

You sighed, pacing a few steps away. He’d wait. He definitely would. And there wasn’t much point in pretending anymore—he clearly knew you weren’t fine. Continuing to train like this was useless when your head was so unfocused. Avoiding the topic wasn’t helping either. At this point, everyone knew what was going on. Hell, they all seemed more bothered by it than Azriel.

Still, you’d been dodging these conversations. Talking about it felt...stupid. Saying it out loud would make it real—all the messy, painful feelings you’d been shoving down would be out there, staring back at you like some pitiful mirror. Your conversation with Azriel this morning had only made your bitterness stronger.

But Cassian was watching you, expecting, and it was nice, in a way. Having someone care this much. Maybe it would be easier to talk to him. Mor had helped, sure, but her comfort recently came in the form of dragging Azriel through the dirt. It didn’t actually solve anything.

"It’s this stupid thing with Az," you muttered finally. "I’m starting to feel like he doesn’t actually care about me." 

Cassian leaned on the hilt of his sword. “Well, that’s not true.”

You leveled him with a stare, your body tensing as a surge of frustration ran through you, hot and heavy. “It isn’t? He talked to me for the first time today and didn’t even apologize. Not properly. Just asked about Keir.”

Cassian’s expression softened. “He gets wrapped up in his own head about things. Probably just embarrassed, you know? Doesn’t know how to approach the situation.”

You’d run that possibility through your mind a hundred times. Mor had even said it herself. But it didn’t help with the ache, the anger. It was hard to believe your spymaster—so fearless, so eager to throw himself into the fire—was struggling to talk to a friend. Out of all the hard things Azriel had done, surely a simple apology wasn’t beyond him. You’d forgiven him for so much, had let things go because he was your friend. But you were tired of letting it go. He had the perfect opportunity to apologize, to properly acknowledge how he’d hurt you, and he hadn’t taken it.

“Embarrassed by what? Accusing his friend of something so absurd?”

Cassian tilted his head in subtle agreement, like he too thought the word absurd was right for the situation. “I think Az doesn’t want to be seen as...whatever he thinks people see him as. Like he’s incompetent in love. Or that he can’t handle his shit.” He rolled his shoulders, sighing. “He’s defensive. When he’s cornered, he reacts badly. It’s not about you, Y/n. You know that, right?”

You knew that. Of course you did. But it didn’t feel like a proper explanation this time. It didn’t feel like enough.

“But it feels like it is about me. He listened to her. He took her word, over mine." Your fists clenched involuntarily. "And the way he acted—like I wasn’t worth considering, like my opinion doesn’t matter. I’ve known him for centuries. She—" You paused, taking a breath, "She’s barely been in his life. And he immediately assumes that my care for him is because I just want something from him. That it’s some selfish, self-serving thing. His whole job is to see through lies, Cass. He didn’t even second-guess her.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t actually see it like that. He probably just reacted out of instinct. It’s Azriel, Y/n, he’s complicated. "

“Shit, Cass, way to play sides.”

Cassian sighed, stepping closer. “I’m not playing sides. I’m trying to help. Az makes stupid decisions. Half the time, I don’t think he even understands why. I don’t want you driving yourself crazy trying to figure it out. It’s not worth it.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” you snapped. “Just wait it out? Move on? That’s not happening.”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and guilt pricked at the edges of your conscience. This wasn’t Cassian’s fault—he didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to care. But lately, your anger over everything—over Az—felt like a thorn lodged so deeply under your skin that the irritation seeped into everything. You were struggling to control it.

It was a small blessing there weren’t any court matters to handle for the time being. Rhys was likely still preoccupied with Keir’s incessant whining about your last outburst.

Still, it felt like acid rising in your throat, a bitter burn you couldn’t swallow down, even as Cassian opened his mouth to respond. The words were spilling out of you before he could say anything.

“I’m not even mad about this one fight anymore,” you started, the grip on your sword slipping as your fingers unfurled. The blade clattered to the ground, the sound loud enough to make Cassian flinch. “It’s everything. All of it. He never apologizes for anything—have you noticed that? Like, ever. And I’ve let it slide because that’s just Azriel, right? Quiet, brooding Azriel, who’s somehow above—”

Cassian raised a palm out. “Alright, alright, stop,” he said. “You’re going to drive yourself crazy. It’s not worth it.”

You exhaled sharply, realizing you were halfway to a full-blown rant.

He stepped closer, giving you a knowing look. “Listen, you can’t force him to apologize properly. You just...can’t. You have to let him come to it on his own.”

Your teeth clenched. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Cassian sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I agree. Believe me, I agree. But until he figures his shit out, maybe we focus on what you can change.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. What else is bothering you?”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It would be easier to list what isn’t bothering me right now.”

Cassian tilted his head again, considering. “Does it bother you that Selene sees you as competition?”

You blew a strand of hair out of your face. Did it bother you?

Azriel had believed her instantly—disregarded you with a swiftness that stung. He’d accused you of selfishness, of something you’d never been with him. But Selene’s opinion of you, the thoughts she’d planted in his mind, those bothered you too. You hadn’t realized it until now.

She didn’t know you.

And yet, her words had curled under your skin, sitting heavy and raw, making you ache in a quiet, tired way. Worse, they’d made you overthink every interaction with Azriel since. You’d spent so much of your life trying to be the diplomat, choosing empathy even when it sucked—when it drained you. You wanted to like Selene—gods, you wanted to like the people Azriel cared for, even when it felt impossible. But she hadn’t even given you the time of day.

“I don’t like that I’ve been vilified somehow,” you admitted with a frown. “I don’t want to feel like I’m fighting for his attention or validation. It’s not like that.”

Cassian gave a small, knowing smile. “I know it’s not.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No, it’s not.” 

He paused, clearly mulling something over, then asked, “Do you want to hear what I think?”

You gave him a wary look. “I feel like you’re going to tell me anyway.”

“Correct,” he said, grinning. Then he sobered. “Az aside...I think Selene’s reaction makes sense.”

You blinked at him, incredulous. Was he serious right now? A sharp heat rose in your chest. “Okay, well, that’s clearly choosing sides—”

“Hear me out,” Cassian said quickly. “I mean, look at you, Y/n. I’d be jealous of you too if I were her. You’re beautiful, smart, someone Azriel deeply cares for. Hell, I’d probably be a mess.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line. “So, because I’m so wonderful, I’m responsible for her insecurities?” you asked dryly, arching a brow.

Cassian shook his head. “No. What I’m saying is that this might be the one aspect of the situation you can change. The one thing you have control over. Maybe talking to her would help. Clear the air.”

You mulled over his suggestion. Maybe he had a point. Maybe talking to Selene would help. Not just to ease the tension, but to give Azriel room to come to you—to clear the air between you both. If you did this—if you took the first step—maybe he’d finally take you seriously. Apologize for dismissing you so easily, so carelessly. You could find a way to move on, comfortably, with Selene in his life. Right?

It wasn’t like the situation could get any worse.

"Okay," you murmured, more to yourself than to him. "Yeah. Maybe I’ll talk to her."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

Cassian was waiting for Azriel as he stepped out of the townhome, his massive frame leaning against the railing. One glance at the general was enough to confirm it: Cassian wasn’t there to exchange pleasantries. No—Cassian stood with his arms crossed, his wings partially flared, exuding the barely-contained anger Azriel recognized all too well.

“We need to talk,” Cassian said.

Azriel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He tightened his fists, shadows curling around them instinctively, obscuring his hands from view. Not now. Not tonight. He had no energy for this—not for Cassian’s righteousness or whatever lecture he’d come prepared to deliver.

“I’m not in the mood, Cass,” he said flatly, brushing past him.

“Too bad.” Cassian stepped into his path, blocking him with ease. “I didn’t endure an hour of Mor yelling at me for you to decide you can’t have a conversation.”

Azriel paused, his brow furrowing. “Why was Mor yelling at you?”

Cassian crossed his arms. “Because of you.”

“Great,” Az muttered. “What have I done now?”

“I gave Y/n some advice that, in hindsight, wasn’t great. Mor made the situation a lot clearer for me. Now I’m here to make sure you clean up your mess before anyone else slips.”

The mention of your name made Azriel’s chest ache in a way that felt too raw. He’d told himself he wouldn’t think about you tonight—not your voice, not your expression when he’d spoken to you this morning. But here was Cassian, dragging it all to the surface like a wound being forced open.

“I don’t think this is any of your concern,” Azriel said coldly, stepping around Cassian in a last-ditch effort to leave.

Cassian didn’t budge, spinning on his heel and following. “It is my concern because you’re my friend. And Y/n is my friend.”

Azriel could feel his shadows tighten their hold, whispering, urging him to end this. He wasn’t sure if they meant the conversation with Cassian or the situation entirely. Azriel could only control one of those.

“Cass, leave it alone,” he said, his voice low, barely masking the warning there.

“No,” Cassian responded immediately. “You did something shitty and you need to own up to it, Az.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened. “Sometimes friends fight,” he ground out. “Sometimes we get on each other’s nerves, like you’re getting on mine now. It’ll settle.”

“This isn’t going to ‘settle.’” Cassian’s voice rose. “You didn’t just get on her nerves—you offended her.”

The words hit harder than Azriel had anticipated.

“Because the idea of having feelings for me is so offensive? Am I that repulsive?”

The words slipped out before he could stop them, the question jagged, biting. He hadn’t meant to say that. He wasn’t sure where it had come from. 

Cassian blinked, his anger giving way to confusion for a moment before his brow furrowed. “What the hell are you talking about? Don’t twist this into something it isn’t.”

Azriel’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of heat creeping up his neck. His outburst had come from nowhere, and now, Cassian’s eyes were full of confusion and something else—something close to pity. Azriel felt small under it, a flush of embarrassment prickling down his body. He wanted to look away, to escape.

He needed to leave.

Think later. Process later. Just get out of here.

Azriel squared his shoulders, forcing himself to meet Cassian’s gaze with as much indifference as he could muster. “Are you done now? Selene is waiting for me.”

Cassian stepped closer, his wings flaring in frustration. “Selene can deal with a few lost minutes of Azriel time. We’re talking.”

“No,” Azriel said, voice flat, his gaze turning icy. “You’re talking. I’m leaving.”

He moved to step past Cassian, but the larger male blocked him again.

“Is this some weird self-pity thing?” Cassian demanded, his tone growing sharper. “Thinking you’re not worth being forgiven so you don’t even try?”

Those words hit a nerve. 

Azriel’s anger sparked instantly, snapping through his ribs like a whip. He couldn’t decide if it was directed at Cassian or himself. But Cassian didn’t understand. None of them did.

“Cass, just let it go.”

“No,” Cassian shot back. “You always do this. You make decisions that are selfish. You push people away because you think it’s easier, and it’s not. It’s bullshit.”

It wasn’t easier—it was never easier. But what was Azriel supposed to say? That it was better than risking more damage? That every decision he made, no matter how distant or cold, was the only way he knew how to protect the people he cared about?

“Cassian—”

The slap came out of nowhere.

Azriel’s head snapped to the side, his shadows scattering in shock before reforming around him. Slowly, he turned back to Cassian, his eyes blazing.

“What the hell was that?”

“Sorry,” Cassian said flatly. “Must’ve been the wind.”

Azriel’s lip curled. He opened his mouth to respond, but a second slap landed, harder this time.

“Would you stop that?” Azriel growled, his wings flaring slightly, the shadows around him vibrating with his tone. “Don’t touch me.”

Cassian stepped closer. “Why?” he asked, mockingly. “This is what you deserve, right? If you’re so terrible.”

The third slap was the breaking point.

Azriel’s fist flew, connecting with Cassian’s jaw in a blur of movement. The force sent Cassian stumbling back a step, but he recovered quickly, his retaliation swift—a sharp uppercut to Azriel’s ribs.

They fought like brothers—wild, messy. Not about technique, but about something else. Azriel wasn’t sure why Cassian needed this release, but he could feel it—the desperate need behind every punch. And Azriel… Azriel didn’t realize it at first, but he needed it too.

He was an Illyrian, no matter how many times he tried to convince himself otherwise. Fighting cleared his mind. Whatever Cassian was trying to achieve, whatever he needed to prove, it was working.

Azriel barely registered the sting of each hit. The ache in his ribs, the burn in his muscles—it all blurred into the same tight, unrelenting pressure in his chest. Like there was no room left for air, for thought, for the gnawing guilt that had dug its claws into him and refused to let go. Cassian tackled him to the ground, pinning him, both of them struggling for breath.

“This is stupid!”

“I agree,” Azriel spat, shoving him off. “Get off me.”

“No, you!” Cassian said, pushing himself to his feet. “You’re stupid.”

Azriel sat up slowly, chest heaving as his shadows curled protectively around him. 

Cassian shook his head, wiping blood from his lip. “You’re better than this, Az. So be better and properly fuckin’ apologize. If not for you, for me—so my mate will stop glaring at me every time I say your name.”

Azriel’s gaze dropped to the ground, the weight of Cassian’s words sinking into him like a slow burn. His fists clenched at his sides, but he said nothing. Offered nothing. 

Cassian didn’t stop. “Gods know Y/n has done enough for you. Put up with enough. We’ve all done shitty things. But you know what? You take the hit, you own it, and you try to be better. You can’t lead with self-loathing forever.”

Azriel sat there longer than necessary, long after Cassian had walked away. People passed by—some casting glances his way, most not bothering to look at all—but he didn’t move. Didn’t feel the flicker of shame he might’ve once felt at sitting there, bloodied and bruised, shadows curling restlessly around him.

The sting in his cheekbone from Cassian’s knuckles pulsed dully, but it wasn’t enough to distract him from the gnawing thoughts taking root.

Maybe it wasn’t the fear of you rejecting his apology that held him back. Maybe it was the fear that you wouldn’t.

That you’d accept it. 

That somehow, he’d manage to make it up to you. That things would settle for a while, until he inevitably did something worse. Something irreparable.

He was terrified of succeeding—of pulling you back in, of you continuing to see something in him that he wasn’t. That you’d keep believing in this illusion, this version of him he’d somehow convinced you existed.

For centuries, it felt like he’d been holding his breath, waiting for the inevitable—waiting for you to see him as he truly was. And if he made this right, if you forgave him, it would only give him more time to fail you again.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

You were walking without a proper destination in mind.

You’d never been to it, but Azriel had once mentioned that Selene worked at a flower shop near the Palace of Thread and Jewels. He’d first run into her on one of his free days, when he’d stopped by a few of his favorite parts in the city.

This area made sense. It was near his usual route, tucked away in a cozy corner of the city. As the scent of flowers suddenly enveloped you, you heard Selene’s unmistakable voice. Relief surged through you; you’d found the right place. 

You thought back to your conversation with Cassian. You knew you weren’t in the wrong, that this current visit wasn’t expected of you. But it was something you could control. You’d wanted to get to know Selene better anyway. You prepared yourself, putting on a smile and stepping towards the door, but then—

“I mean, is he really worth all that effort?”

This was a voice you didn’t recognize. It curled around you, something about it making your stomach clench. 

A small sigh. “Azriel?”

This time, the voice belonged to Selene. You froze, rooted to the spot. Any inclination to quit eavesdropping washed away at the sound of his name. You felt a tightness in your chest—an almost primal urge to run in there, to stop the conversation before it even began. 

“Yeah,” the second voice pressed, “He’s a freak, Sel. Hot, sure, but a total freak. And so intense all the time.”

For a moment, there was silence. And then, Selene’s voice, almost reluctant, like she was holding back. “Well—”

Her friend interrupted. “And those shadows? Don’t they freak you out?”

A sound of disgust, maybe a shiver, followed her words. Something cold rushed through you, crawling beneath your skin, and for a moment, you didn’t know whether you wanted to shout or run. Or maybe both. Anger churned in your gut, and the calm, composed facade you’d been carefully maintaining on the walk here began to crack, slipping away piece by piece. 

“Hey, knock it off,” Selene replied, her voice soft.  “He surprises you. He’s sweet. He makes me happy.”

Her friend snorted. “Has it been an ego boost for you, then?”

“I mean, yeah,” Selene admitted quietly. “But that’s not all of it. Things with him actually aren’t… great right now. He canceled on me again tonight. I think it’s because he had some kind of fight with Y/n.”

The mention of your name stole the breath from your chest, and your body constricted almost involuntarily. 

Her friend’s voice was full of disbelief as she asked, “He actually told you?”

“No,” Selene said softly, “I—I heard them. I feel really bad, but…”

The next sound was unmistakable—the sharp intake of breath from her friend, a squeal of sorts.

“Did you actually use the listening charm I gave you? You little min—”

Something snapped in you as the words registered. A listening charm. A strange, gross invasion of privacy. And to think you had felt bad standing here, eavesdropping on their conversation in a public store, of all places. You’d been this close to giving her the benefit of the doubt.

You stormed into the shop, the door slamming behind you, and both voices froze. You barely registered Selene’s friend’s wide-eyed realization, the quiet “Oh shit” leaving her lips as she turned toward Selene.

Your focus was on Selene—on her and no one else. She stood there, an image of calm beauty that twisted something deep inside you—a type of beauty that felt somehow wrong, as if it were too polished, too perfect, for the situation. Her dark hair framed her face, her delicate features still and pale as she stared at you. The color drained from her face the moment your gaze locked with hers.

“Do you want to explain what I just heard?” you asked, your voice tight, sharp, biting. “Or should I just tell you what I’ve gathered?”

Silence. 

Her friend opened her mouth to protest, “I don’t think you have any right coming in here and—”

“I think this is a conversation for me and Selene,” you said coldly, not bothering to spare her a glance. 

Selene blinked a few times before she turned her head and offered her friend a small, almost reluctant nod.

“You should go,” she told her quietly. “And put the closed sign on the door, please.”

Her friend hesitated, but with a final glance in your direction, she walked out, the soft click of the door behind her leaving the two of you alone. You didn’t miss the way she’d muttered under her breath as she left, a quiet but very clear “Bitch.”

“Y/n,” Selene said after another moment of silence, her voice tentative, like she was trying to find the right words. “I didn’t know that you were here.”

“Clearly.”

Selene’s movements were stiff, awkward as she fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, like she didn’t know what to do with her hands now that she was trapped in this uncomfortable moment.  “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t think that matters anymore,” you replied. “I asked you a question. I’d like to know what I just overheard.”

Selene’s ears flushed pink, a deep red that spread across her neck, as she took a deep breath. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

You could feel your patience unraveling. Of course she didn’t know what to say. She’d been caught in the act. There was no excuse for this.

“You listened to us,” you snapped, the words bitter in your mouth. “You spied on Azriel. Do you just want to skip ahead to how you justify it?”

Her face paled, and for a moment, she looked younger—small, almost fragile. “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Oh please.” The frustration boiled over, flooding your veins with anger you hadn’t realized was possible. Anything you’d felt before this moment paled in comparison. You shouldn’t have asked her to explain. You already knew whatever she said would only make things worse, would only add fuel to the fire that was your growing irritation.

This is stupid. This is ridiculous. How did you get roped into this?

“I know it was wrong!” she said quickly, the words tumbling out. “I know, okay? I shouldn’t have—I shouldn’t have let Runa convince me it was a good idea. But I didn’t know what else to do.”

That had to be the worst excuse you’d ever heard. It wasn’t just the stupidity of it that pissed you off—it was the weakness of it, the desperation in her voice that made you want to scream.  Azriel must be blind. Had he really been so wrapped up in whatever bubble he’d built around her that he couldn’t see the cracks? Was he so fucking love-blind that this—this—was what he was left with?

“What else to do? About what? Surely any other solution would have been better.”

She let out a deep sigh and her shoulders sagged with the motion. “I really like him,  Y/n.”

You snorted, a sound of genuine amusement—more out of sheer disbelief than anything else. You couldn’t help it. “Alright,” you said, dismissing her with a wave of your hand, not buying it for a second. “Don’t start.”

“I do,” Selene said, her voice more insistent now. “I think I might even love him. But it’s hard.”

You shot her an unimpressed look. 

Her voice was louder, more frantic, as she continued. “Azriel doesn’t talk about anything—anything real.”

You didn’t bother hiding the scoff. “Bullshit. Az talks. You just have to be patient. Communicate like a normal fucking partner.”

Her frustration flashed across her face, the defensive crossing of her arms only making her look more like a child. “Do you think I didn’t try that? He doesn’t tell me anything. Not really. He keeps everything locked up so tight—he barely even looks at me sometimes. What was I supposed to do?”

“Maybe not violate his privacy?” 

“You don’t get it.” Her hands trembled as she gestured at you. “He doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you. Do you know what it’s like to be the one he’s supposed to care about but feel like you’re always on the outside? Like there’s this wall between us that I can’t get through, but somehow you can?”

You should’ve walked away then. The urge to just let her talk herself into a hole was strong. But you didn’t.

“You’ve been dating him for a few months,” you said, crossing your arms, your stance slightly defensive. “We’ve been friends for centuries. You can’t expect him to open up to you completely overnight.”

“That’s not the point!” she snapped, her voice rising, a crack of desperation leaking through. For a fleeting second, you almost felt bad for her. A tug of sympathy.

“Then what the hell is the point?” you demanded. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re just looking for someone to blame. And for some reason, that someone is me. Are you seriously trying to imply I'm somehow responsible for you spying on him?”

Selene flinched, but she didn’t back down. You had to give her credit for that.  “No. I—I don’t know,” she mumbled, her hand tugging at her hair in jerky movements, like she was trying to yank the thoughts from her mind. “I panicked, okay? I didn’t think—I just… I didn’t want to lose him. I thought if I could figure out what was going on, maybe I could fix it. Maybe I could stop feeling like…”

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m always on the outside. Like I’m never going to be enough.”

A part of you wanted to snap back at her, to remind her that this wasn’t a justification, that none of this made it okay. But something about her voice—broken, raw, like a crack that had been growing for too long—slowed your response. Your anger faltered.

“I know it’s insane,” she added, “I know it was wrong, and I feel awful about it. But I didn’t know what else to do. It feels like i’m competing with someone who’s known him longer, who gets to see parts of him I never will. How am I supposed to make space for myself?”

“Still not a good enough excuse,” you bit out. “You can’t just violate his privacy because you’re insecure.”

Selene took a deep breath and met your gaze. There was no fight in them anymore. “Please, just go. Run off and tell Azriel everything. I know you’re probably excited to.”

Her words stung more than they should have.

“Why do you say it like that?” you asked, “Like I’m thrilled to ruin your relationship?”

Selene’s eyes flickered with something sharp. “Aren’t you?”

For a second, you almost wished you could be. Almost.

“No,” you said firmly. “I would never do that to Azriel. I’m not your competition. I’m his friend. I came here to give you the benefit of the doubt because I wanted you two to be happy. But this? This is…” You trailed off, unable to even finish the thought, because it was too much—everything about it felt wrong.

“Crazy?” Selene finished bitterly, shaking her head. “Yeah, I know. Believe me, I know how it looks. But like I said, you don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to care about someone so much that you start losing sight of yourself. I think about him, about how much I care about him, and all my instincts go out the window. ”

Selene had always existed a certain way in your mind.

Azriel had seemed lighter when he first mentioned her, a softness in his voice that you hadn’t heard in years. And you’d been happy for him—thrilled, even, at the idea of someone bringing him a bit of joy. You’d wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, wanted to believe that she could be good for him. You were excited to meet her.

But then Az started to change.

The more he changed, the more Selene shifted in your mind, too. She became untouchable, an image conjured more from your worry than from anything real. You imagined her as someone clingy, someone who demanded all of his attention and made him forget the people who loved him first. Someone full of herself, reveling in the power she had over him.

And then you’d met her.

She wasn’t what you’d expected—though not in the way that might have changed your mind. She wasn’t warm or open, wasn’t eager to charm or connect with Azriel’s family. Instead, she’d clung to him like a second skin, her hands always on his arm, her smile reserved only for him. And maybe it was unfair, but you hadn’t liked the way she’d looked at you, hadn’t liked the guarded, wary edge to her voice when she spoke.

You’d trusted your gut, let it guide you through the uncertainty. And when things fell apart—when the argument between you and Az finally erupted—Selene’s image had shifted again.

She became a villain in your mind, a figure painted in sharp, unforgiving lines. It was easier that way. Easier to picture her whispering in Azriel’s ear, twisting his thoughts, pulling him further away from you. You’d built her into someone cruel, someone who reveled in the divide she’d caused.

But now, standing before her, you saw something else entirely.

Selene didn’t look cruel. She didn’t look smug or victorious. If anything, she looked fragile. There was an unease in her posture, a vulnerability in the way her hands fidgeted at her sides. The guardedness was still there, but it felt more like armor than arrogance.

And for the first time, you questioned how much of the image you’d built of her was real—and how much of it was your own fear, your own concern for Azriel, projected onto her.

“Why did you tell Azriel that I had feelings for him?”

The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you weren’t sure where they came from—but somehow, they lifted a deep weight off your chest.

Her brows furrowed, genuine confusion crossing her face. "What?"

“Why did you tell him that you thought I had feelings for him?”

“I wanted to see what he’d do,” she admitted. 

Disbelief tightened in your chest.  “So you lied to him for fun?”

She shook her head. “No I didn’t.”

“Yes,” you said, the word bitten out, “You told him I had feelings for him.”

“Because you do,” she answered, as though it were the simplest thing in the world, like she understood your feelings better than you did. And for a second—a stupid, fleeting second—you almost believed her.

Selene’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know what a female in love with him looks like,” she said quietly,  her voice soft in a way it wasn’t before. “I see it every day when I look in the mirror.”

Something inside you twisted painfully, a knot of emotions you couldn’t untangle fast enough. You focused on the irritation. 

“Am I wrong?” she continued. “Is he the best part of your day? Do you look forward to talking to him? Can you tell him things you’d never tell anyone else? Do you save bits of good food just so he can try it?”

Your throat felt tight, the words stuck somewhere between anger and disbelief. How had this conversation managed to spin so completely?

The breath you took felt jagged, like your lungs couldn’t quite expand all the way. “That’s not true,” you said. “Azriel and I… We’re friends. That’s all. We’ve been friends for centuries. That’s just—what happens when you’ve known someone that long.”

For a moment, you thought she might apologize, or at least reconsider. Her expression faltered, but instead, she just stared at you.

“Do you really believe that?”

When you didn’t reply, Selene blinked, cleared her throat, and turned away from you, leaning against the counter with a sigh. “This is so pathetic,” she muttered, her voice tinged with bitter amusement. “I’m standing here, basically pushing you to him.”

A sigh slipped past your lips before you could stop it. You hesitated, torn between frustration and a strange sympathy. Against every instinct telling you to be petty, a part of you felt bad for her. She cared about Azriel. Deeply. You were certain of it— unsure of how you knew, but you were certain nonetheless. There was no malice in her voice, just insecurity and raw, unspoken fear.

You hated that you could sense it, but you couldn't ignore it either. You could almost hear Amren in your ear, urging you to walk away, and Mor's voice reminding you that Selene didn’t deserve your kindness. But somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. If Azriel saw something worth loving in Selene, maybe you did too.

“Okay, well, don’t do that,” you muttered, taking a step closer. The urge to comfort her was almost overwhelming—to show her that maybe she could learn and grow from this. “You need to talk to Az, Selene. Just sit down, be open—”

“Stop. Don’t be nice to me,” she snapped, spinning to face you. Her voice was sharp.

She moved as if to push you away, but hadn’t realized how close you’d stepped. The edge of her bracelet caught your cheek, and the sharp sting of metal cut straight through it.

Selene froze, her eyes widening as she took in the line of blood blooming on your cheek. “Oh my gods,” she whispered, her hands hovering uselessly. “I—I didn’t mean—”

You stepped back further, your hand still on your cheek, blood warm against your fingertips. 

This seemed about right, you thought bitterly to yourself. This is what happens when you try to be the bigger person. You were gonna kill Cassian. You were going to wring his godsdamned neck.

Selene’s voice became a rush of apologies, each one more frantic than the last, but your attention was already slipping away. Your gaze fell to the bracelet on her wrist. The metal gleamed, twisting slightly with every motion of her hand. You recognized it instantly.

Azriel had a similar one in his room. On his dresser.

“Is that how you did it?” you asked, pointing to her wrist.

Selene’s face drained of color, guilt flooding her expression. She nodded slowly, her hands shaking as she removed the bracelet and held it out to you, eyes wide and full of regret.

You took it from her fingers and, just for a moment, you almost let yourself fall back into the anger, the hurt. But you didn’t. You exhaled slowly, steadying yourself before shaking your head.

“I’m sorry,” Selene whispered, voice breaking. “I really am. I was— I was just desperate. And Runa kept pushing, and—”

You cut her off with a sharp shake of your head, locking eyes with her. Her voice faded, but it didn’t matter anymore. “You’re not terrible, Selene. But you have terrible friends.”

You turned to leave but paused at the door, glancing back over your shoulder. “I suggest you find new ones.”

You tried to steady yourself as you stepped into the bustling streets of Velaris. The bracelet in your hand was cold against your palm, and the sting of the cut on your cheek throbbed with each beat of your pulse. Everything inside you felt scrambled—emotions tangled, confusion still clouding your mind.

The shuffle of footsteps broke through your fog. You looked up, just in time to hear a sharp voice.

“Ouch, that looks like it stung.” A small chuckle. “Although I’m sure you’re excited to have a reason for the Shadowsinger to tend to you.”

You scanned her. “Runa, right?”

She smirked, crossing her arms. “Yeah, that's me.”

Without hesitation, you found yourself saying, “You gave your friend some hurtful advice.”

Runa shrugged nonchalantly, almost amused. “Oops.”

You held your tongue for a moment, your irritation intensifying the longer you looked at her. Unlike Selene, who had managed to evoke some sympathy, Runa didn’t even come close. She shifted, as if waiting for you to bite.

The silence stretched before she finally broke it with a snide laugh. “Honestly, Selene’s better off without that freak of a boyfriend. She doesn’t need to be wrapped up with shitty court politicians.”

Something in you snapped. Maybe it was the words, maybe it was the whirlwind of emotions from the last half hour, but your patience with her was gone. You inhaled sharply, trying to steady your temper, and placed the bracelet in your pocket.

“Do you know who I am?”

Runa raised an eyebrow, the slightest trace of mockery in her smile. “Uh, yeah. You're an emissary or something, right?” She waved her hand dismissively, as if it didn’t matter.

You closed the distance between you in a few long strides. “Good,” you said, letting the word settle in the air. “I want you to remember that when you report.”

Runa looked confused, her smug attitude faltering. “Report what?” 

You smiled. And then you punched her in the face. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹ 

authors note: fun fact, this was the 6th draft of this!! and this felt like the way to go with the story....gives me some options to exploree. its also so long bc i wanted to keep all the fun scenes together tehehe sorry yall i got carried away

but selene....selene...selene... how i thought about her for a bit. i wanted to avoid making selene a caricature of a soulless mean jealous girl, i think it makes it somehow worse and even better to write knowing she was just incredibly insecure and misguided by people she trusted...doesn’t make anythinggg she did okay but

we out here rly testing our reader with a selene like villain rn. tehehe

also....time to imagine rhys holding nyx on his lap as he tells reader that shes in trouble for fighting a citizen in the open mf streets. rhys was so smug and now he’s like damn…wait a min… our public imagine SUCKSS

thank you for reading!!<3

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@cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg @evergreenlark 

@marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters @starswholistenanddreamsanswered 

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[labelneo]

i’m a good girl, officer.

SUMMARY: junho hadn’t been the same since his disappearance, but he wanted to make it up to you.

PAIRING: husband!junho x detective!reader

LENGTH: 5k words

WARNINGS: 18+, dni w/ this fic if you are a minor!!, female reader, smut obvi, pet names, junho praising reader, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, cream pie, marriage problems resolved through make up sex, passionate sex?, junho bending you over his office desk, unprotected sex

REQUEST (loosely based on this request): Could I request a season 1 Jun-ho x reader fanfic if like they were already acquainted (like how Gi-hun and him were at the police station). And they both need to let out some frustration. Like you don’t know how much I love this man 😭

AUTHOR’S NOTE: request are open! also, lmk if you would like to be on my squid game fics tag list!

Sitting in your office across from Junho’s, you had spent the past few hours at the station looking through active cases you were working on. Your office was only being filled by the sound of you flipping pages, and your attention was set on the work in front of you until you heard footsteps coming into the hall. You look up from your desk to see your husband as he walks straight past your door and into his office, slamming his door shut in the process. 

Not even a good morning, you think to yourself. Rude. 

But, not surprising. You would be wrong if you didn’t admit that your husband’s recent behavior had been, well, frustrating. You had already almost lost your mind the day you received a call from your shared boss about some fisherman having found his body in the middle of the ocean with a gunshot wound in his shoulder, and he wasn’t making the situation you both were in now any easier. 

The weeks following his disappearance had been more than confusing. He swore he couldn’t remember what had happened to him, but you knew better than that. After all, you both worked the same profession that required skills such as reading people. Also, he was your husband for goodness sake. You knew his quirks, and you especially knew when he was lying. You’d watch how he would break out in a sweat in the middle of the night, how he would keep a map stashed away at his desk and at your shared apartment with different islands having been circled, hiding it to make sure you never saw it, or how he seemed more vigilante when the two of you traveled on the subway. He swore nothing was wrong, but you knew better. 

So, one day, after work, you had had enough of Junho and his behavior. You were tired of the secrets and the sneaking out in the middle of the night when he thought you were asleep. Dinner between the two of you had been quiet that evening, and you had had enough at that point. Slamming your dishes down into the sink, you cursed at Junho, asking him what was going on with him. He was hesitant, but he knew he couldn’t keep hiding the truth from you any longer. He knew you were good at your job, so he knew he needed your help as well. He told you about the island, the games, and about a man named Gi-hun. You were shocked to say the least, but you knew he was telling the truth. You believed him, and you made sure to let him know you would help him to take down the games. 

Yet, him telling you the truth didn’t smooth out the rough spot your marriage was in. Junho had become so focused on bringing the games down, he also had lost focus on the intimacy between the two of you. He didn’t ever seem up for anything anymore, and although you knew how occupied he kept himself because how important taking down the games was to him, you missed him more than you let on. You missed his attention; you missed his touch. 

So, you hated how easy it seemed for him to ignore you at home and, now, also at work. If he didn’t want to have sex with you at home because he was “too tired” to do anything due to how busy he was, fine. It hurt your feelings, but you knew how determined he was. But, he didn’t have to ignore you at work either. You were still his co-worker.

I’m also your wife, you asshole. 

You let out a huff, not sure what to do. This behavior had already been going on for a while, so you try your best to let it go. 

When lunch hour came around, you got up from your desk and grabbed your coat from the back of your chair. If Junho wasn’t going to remember to put in effort into the relationship because of how busy he was, you decided it would be best for you to remind him that he was still married. There was a new spot you wanted to try, and you were hoping the two of you could spend the afternoon having lunch together. 

However, your intentions were halted when you saw Junho walk out of his office, not even stopping to glance in the direction of yours. You quickly put on your coat, rushing out your office door before he disappears to wherever he has to go now. 

“Junho!” 

Turning when he heard you calling out for him, Junho stopped walking out the building. “Hey, I have to go. Can we talk later? I’m meeting up with Gi-hun for lunch.”

You blink slowly in amusement at your husband. A part of you wanted to blow up on him at that moment, but you knew better than to do that at work, especially when the front desk workers were now staring at the both of you. So, you don’t say anything. And, Junho, being too busy in that moment with regards to what he and Gi-hun were meeting up to discuss, walked out the door when you didn’t say anything to stop him from walking out the building. 

Another two hours go by before you see your husband come back from his meeting. It’s the same routine, walking past your office, not saying anything to you, walking straight into his office, and closing the door behind him. 

Again, a part of you is telling you to let it go, but you have had enough at this point. Getting up from your chair, you make your way to his office, not bothering to knock. Junho felt himself get upset for a second thinking someone had walked into his office without knocking and unannounced, until he realized it had been you. 

“Y/N,” Junho says, looking back down at the map on his desk, “if it isn’t important, I’m busy right now. Can we talk when we get home?”

You look down at the same map that had been getting more attention than you had been getting for the past few months. You shake your head and scoff at your husband, who doesn’t look up even when you're standing right in front of him. 

“Junho,” you start to say, and Junho can hear the tone in your voice, “I’m your wife, you remember that right?”

Junho, confused by the question, looks up at you as he frowns. He knew you were his wife, he went home to you every day.

“Of course I know that. What are you getting at?” 

You tip your head to the side slightly, almost as if you were trying to get your thoughts across to him without saying anything directly. “You didn’t say good morning to me this morning.”

Junho huffs in response, not amused with what you had said. “I’m sorry, I had a lot to do once I got here.” He didn’t understand what was so important about it. 

“You didn't say good morning to me at home either.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I have a lot of work to do, okay? Whatever this is, we can talk about it at home.”

“That’s the thing, Junho,” you respond, bringing your hands out in front of you, “You have a lot of work today. You also had a lot of work yesterday, and the day before, and you’ll have a lot of work tomorrow too. We won’t talk about it when you get home because this is the way it’s been for months now!”

Junho looks up at you, rubbing his forehead due to now feeling bothered himself. “Do you think this is an appropriate conversation to be having at work?”

“Do you think the way you've been treating me has been an appropriate way to treat your wife?”

Junho doesn't say anything. He’s not sure what to say, and you don’t feel like talking to the wall he has become. You turn on your heel and make your way out his office, knowing that his silence was his answer to what you had just said. 

“Whatever, Junho. When you decide to act like my husband again, let me know.” 

You went home at your usual time that day, and that night, Junho went home later than you had. It was nothing new to either of you, but Junho felt especially guilty having done that the same day as the argument you both had had at the station. He had gone home to find you already asleep in your shared bedroom, analyzing your body while you laid peacefully under the sheets.

He missed you, just as much as you missed him. He knew things hadn’t been the same between the two of you, but he hadn’t realized how affected you had become because of it. You were right, he hadn’t been giving the attention you deserved. 

You had been there for him those days he laid in the hospital after he had been found, and you didn’t call him crazy like his boss had when he told you about the games. You had stuck with him through all the thick and thin he had been going through, and he hadn’t repaid you for how patient you had been with him.  

The next day at work, you wake up and make your way to the station. You had woken up to an empty bed that morning, and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit that it stung you more than usual. After the talk you had with Junho the previous day, you thought something would have changed, but you had ended up being wrong. 

You were surprised to get to the office and see that Junho was already in his office, his door unusually open. You ignore it, not wanting to have another confrontation. 

Making your way to your office and sitting in your chair, everything was happening as it usually does, until you heard a knock at your door. Looking up, you see your husband standing there. It surprises you, given that he seemed to never give you much attention at work anymore. 

“Would you,” he says, leaning against the door frame, “want to get lunch with me, later?”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You couldn’t remember the last time he had asked you to spend time together. Nodding in agreement, a small smile falls on your face. Junho smiles back in response, telling you to go to his office during lunch hour once you were ready to go. 

Once it does, you make your way to your husband’s office, a small spring in your step, you think this is finally the chance to spend some time with your husband. 

That is until you go inside to see that he wasn’t in office anymore. You think he may have just gone to the restroom or taken a phone call outside. You decide to sit in his chair and wait for him to come back. There’s no way he would just bail on you. 

Right?

As you wait, 5 minutes turns into 10, and then 20, and then 30, and suddenly, an hour has already gone by. You had kept yourself busy reading through his case files and looking at that stupid map a dozen times before you got up from his seat.

Screw him.

You don’t know why you even had your hopes up. Junho had, yet again, ignored you completely after having gotten your hopes up. Upset, you get up from his chair and make your way out of his office and into yours, before Junho comes rushing in. He sees the look you have on your face, and he knows you're pissed. 

“Hey, look, I’m sor-”

“No,” you say, putting your hand up to stop him, “I really don't want to hear it.” 

You attempt to make your way out of his office before Junho slams his door shut and stands in front of it. 

“I’m sorry! Okay? I got a call from Gi-hun about a lead in the case, and it was urgent, so I left in a hurry.” 

You shake your head. “I really don’t care, Junho. One afternoon! You couldn’t even make time to spend one afternoon getting lunch with me. It’s like you don’t even care anymore.” 

Junho shakes his head back at you. “That’s not true, and you know that.”

“Do I?” You respond back. “It’s like you don't even remember that we’re married. You never pay me any attention anymore.” 

You continue to question him, sensing all your feelings crash down all at once. “You don’t say good morning to me in the morning anymore, you don’t say bye before you leave to where ever it is you go on the weekend, you don’t give me any updates on the case, and you ignore me at home and at work. We don’t spend any time together anymore because you're always too busy. I mean Junho…do you not love me anymore?”

Junho freezes at the last part of your statement. Of course he loves you. He knew he hadn't been the best husband lately, but how could you possibly think that?

You sigh in frustration. You've already said too much, you think, might as well keep going. “You don’t want to do anything with me anymore, and…you don’t even want to sleep with me anymore. So, I don’t know what to think.” 

Junho’s eyes soften as he hears you talk, shifting around on his feet. He feels guilty. He never intended for you to ever feel unwanted, and he, especially, never intended for you to feel unloved. 

“I’m sorry, baby.”

You lock eyes with Junho. Baby. You couldn't remember the last time he had called you something lovingly. 

“I never wanted you to feel that way.” Junho stepped towards you to get rid of the space between the two of you, bringing you into an embrace. You’re still upset, and you know you shouldn't, but you melt into his touch. You knew you needed to be stronger, but you were desperate for any kind of attention from him at this point. 

Junho leans back to look at your face. He sees your pout, and he leans down to peck your lips. 

Junho’s testing the waters, and when you don’t retaliate when he kisses you, he kisses you again. He wants to make up the way he’s been treating you. Junho goes in for another kiss, and this time, he picks you up, guiding your legs to wrap around his waist. You let out a squeal at his action before he finds your lips again. You know you should probably try to talk things out more, but you're loving this new found attention. Once he has you wrapped around him. Junho doesn’t stop kissing you even when he sits you down on his desk, and you don't mind. He has his hand on the back of your neck, having a constant pull on you to keep you close to his lips. His other hand is placed on your thigh and you feel his touch shooting up your body. 

You can’t help but sneak your hands under his shirt, feeling him up. You knew your husband was fit, but you didn't mind the reminder of what he has under his shirt as you felt his stomach and abs. Junho doesn't mind either, your touch sending chills down his body. He was sensitive to your touch, especially since he hadn’t felt you touch in a while. 

And, god, did he miss it. It was his own fault, he knew that. He never meant to neglect you in any way, he had just been so busy trying to solve his own dilemmas that he had forgotten to balance out his attention on both you and his problems. 

Junho kisses you down your neck, and you throw your head back at the sensation. His soft lips travel all the way down to your collar bone thanks to your button up. His hands are on your thighs, gripping them hard as he concentrates on the soft moans coming from your mouth. He can feel the bulge growing in his pants, and he lets out a moan of his own when he feels you waste no time in starting to grind yourself against it. 

Taking a step back, he listens as you whine at the distance he’s just created. You look down at him up and down, seeing the way his cock is starting to become more pronounced under his pants. You reach out for him, needing him close to you before he grabs your hands and puts them on your side. Shaking his head slightly, he takes a step back to you before reaching down to the buttons of your pants, slowly unbuttoning them as he doesn't break eye contact with you. 

“Let me make it up to you, baby.” 

You don’t say anything as he finishes unbuttoning your pants. He pulls your pants completely off, discarding them onto the floor before connecting his lips with yours again. Up to this point, his kisses had been gentle, almost like an apology. This time, his kiss is desperate, needy. His hands are back at your thighs, gripping them. He had forgotten how soft you were. He had missed this feeling just as much as you had, and you're driving him crazy as your hands touch him all over. 

Junho pulls away, and just as you were about to complain again, you watch him lower himself to kneel down infront of you. He kisses up your exposed inner thighs, not breaking eye contact with you once.  Your legs start to shake, excited at the idea of Junho finally giving you the attention you've been craving for months now. He nips at your inner thighs, loving the way you twitch at the feeling. He can see the dampness becoming more and more prominent on your undies, causing him to smirk. 

“I want to make you feel good, gorgeous.”

You don’t say anything. All you feel is your pussy pulsing more and more as Junho gets closer and closer to your heat. He’s barely started, and he’s already driving you crazy. 

Junho takes wet kisses the rest of the way up your thighs before licking your clothed pussy. You shiver at the sensation, letting out a moan. Your sounds only fuel his need to please you. He takes long licks at your inner thigh, wanting to make you more impatient for his attention. Once he’s satisfied with his work, having left small bruises to your soft, plush thighs, he pulls your panties to the side, groaning when he sees how wet you are. 

“Look at you, already so wet for me.”

Junho leans in, placing his tongue on your wetness and taking a lick. You reach out to grab him, running your hand through his hair before settling and gripping at his hair, feeling yourself getting lost in the feeling. He could feel his dick leaking and twitching in his pants, loving the feeling of you grabbing at him and enjoying how quickly he could undo you in minutes. He doesn’t take a second to slow down, eating you out in the ways he knew you liked. Moving his tongue up and down, he takes in your taste while moaning against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice causing your pussy to clench around nothing. You were in desperate need for him to fill you up, but his tongue was doing wonders against you. Swirling his tongue around, he can feel you getting sensitive, feeling how you instinctively start to pull away from him. Realizing, he grabs your waist with his hands and pulls your body closer to his face. 

Continuing to swirl his tongue around, he takes a long, wet lick up your slit before he focuses his attention on your clit. Sucking on it, he feels like he's about to cum just looking at you as your eyes roll back, your back arches on his desk, and how your breasts pop out more out your chest. He hadn’t even realized you had unbuttoned your shirt and taken out your breasts. 

Moaning at the site, he lets his mouth come off you with a loud, wet pop. Your panting only fueled him to keep making you feel good with his attention. Leveling himself, he takes a long lick from your lower belly all the up your chest before he takes one of your nipples into his mouth while looking up at you, sucking on it like he was hungry to take as much of you in as he could. The view of him under your eye sight, him giving all his attention with his eyes looking up at you through his lashes with praise and admiration, you feel yourself starting to remember how good your husband had become in pleasing you during your time together. Before you can even catch your breath, Junho takes one of his hands to your breast, massages it with his palm. His other hand makes its way down to your now dripping pussy, barely hovering over it before you start grinding yourself against his fingers. 

He was intoxicated with your noises of pleasure and the taste of you. The sight of you coming undone in front of him on his desk, your legs spread open and your pussy dripping for him made him think about all the other dirty things he wanted to do to you. Taking his lips off your now raw and exposed nipple, he easily thrusted his fingers into you from how wet you were. Your eyes are closed, so you can’t see the way Junho is looking at you, but his stare is all set on your now. He checks you out, he couldn’t believe he had let you, his wife, go this long without this kind of attention. You were, to him, the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen, and now you were here, on his desk, moaning his name. Leaning forward he kisses your jaw and makes his way to your ear, taking in how your mouth is opened due to all the sensations you were feeling. 

“Look at you, sitting here so pretty for me. Are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

You hum in response, only being able to concentrate on his fingers and how he curled his fingers inside of you. He chuckles, showing off the smile that drove you crazy. By now, you’re a mess, and Junho doesnt think he can wait any longer. You’re sitting on his desk, legs spread out and your chest completely exposed. Before you can even think about something to say, Junho removes his fingers instead of you, much to your disappointment. You watch as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. 

You had forgotten how crazy Junho could make you. 

By now, your pussy is throbbing, and you feel the need for Junho to be inside you. Junho can’t ignore the tightness in his pants anymore, and he quickly moves to remove his shirt from off his body. You watch as his lower stomach is exposed, to his chest, until he no longer has his shirt on anymore. His abs are as defined as always, but you still reach out to feel him up all the way up to his chest. Junho is no longer in the mood for teasing or simple touches, he needed to feel himself inside of you. 

Finally reaching for his pants, you look down to see how he takes off his pants and boxers in a swift motion down to his ankles, his dick springing free. Junho was your husband, so obviously you had slept with him before. But after going this long without sex, you stare in awe at his dick, red and leaky. You knew he was big, but you didn’t remember him being that big. 

Junho grabs your chin, guiding you to look at him. There’s a gloss in your eyes, and he knows he has you right where he wants you to be, needy for him. 

“Are you going to be a good for me, mh? Are you gonna let me make you feel good?”

A whiny mhm comes out your mouth. You'd be whatever he wanted you to be. A good girl comes out his lips before he’s flipping you over on his desk, grabbing your waist and pulling your ass up to give him access to stick his cock inside of you. You whine softly, pushing your ass back into him, feeling desperate for him to fill you up. The hardness of his cock against you is making you excited, and Junho can’t help but take in the sight of you in front of him. The plumpness of your ass against his cock only makes him feel more and more turned on. His head is now red and needy for you. Junho slaps his cock against your ass before he guides it into your folds, letting your dripping pussy get all over him. He grips your ass at the feeling before Junho thrusts himself into you, and he can’t stop himself from praising you. 

A long drawn out fuck comes out his lips at the same time you let a sensual sound come out your lips. You knew Junho didn’t like you being quiet. You knew he wanted to hear how good he was making you feel.  

Junho, on the other hand, let out a sound of pleasure at the sound feeling of you around him. He hadn’t been inside you for a while now, and he can’t believe how he could've gone this long without feeling your pussy around him. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

You’re too concentrated on the feeling of Junho finally stretching you out that you almost don’t hear him. He knows you're out of it too, seeing how you don’t react to his praise. Leaning forward, he grabs your chin, turning your head to kiss you before he stops milli inches from your lips. You whine, leaning forward to kiss him before he pulls back. 

“My pretty girl, you like that? How I make you feel?” 

You let out a breathy yes, and suddenly, you feel yourself holding back screams. Junho, being your husband, knows all the squishy spots inside of you that make you go crazy, and he was making sure he filled you up exactly the way he knew you liked, the way he knew would make you cum on his dick. His office is filled with the slaps of his balls hitting your ass, and Junho now has his hands on your waist, pulling you in harder and harder back to his cock. He watches the way your ass bounces on him. The way his hands fit perfectly into the curves of your body, the way he fits inside your pussy, the way your moaning his name makes him swear to himself that you must have been made exactly for him. 

He’s stretching you out perfectly, making sure he fills you up as much as he can. You feel so good, so fucked out. You had missed this feeling so much. 

You bent over his desk, so exposed, and with your shared boss only a few doors down, you feel so dirty knowing how you loved to do it with Junho in scandalous places. You remember back to the days the two of you had been cops together, and how the both of you patrolling the same nights would end in you riding Junho in the driver seat. You couldn’t help yourself, you loved a man in uniform. 

You knew Junho wouldn’t let himself cum until you did, so you let yourself get lost in the pleasure he was giving you and the sound of his grunts until you start feeling that tightness in your womb. Junho sees how you instinctively start rocking yourself more against his cock, and he knows you're close to finishing.  

“That’s it, gorgeous. Come on my cock, baby.” 

The stretching in your pussy, the name calling, the sounds of Junho moaning your name was the perfect combination, enough to send you into your release. Junho watches as your grip at the edge of his desk. You let out a moan, calling out for him as he feels your pussy clench around him and your wetness increases. He feels himself slipping in and out of you faster, and he feels his ego rise knowing that he had made you finish as strongly as you did.  

You feel Junho’s stroke starting to get sloppy, and you feel his grip starting to become tighter around your waist. He slaps your ass, and your ass perks up at the feeling. Reaching out for his chest behind you, you run your hand against his chest, and Junho doesnt think he can take your touch and the feeling of him ramming himself into you at the same time. 

“Come for me, handsome. I’ve been a good girl. I want to feel you come inside of me.”

Junho can’t stop himself from being affected by your words, and the warmth you suddenly feel inside of you lets you know he was filling you up with his cum. You groan at the feeling, loving how his seed fills you up. 

Junho pants from his spot behind you, and you lay yourself down on his desk, trying to compose yourself as well. You’re so sensitive, but you feel so much euphoria all over your body. Junho, seeing as you're not moving, bends down and kisses you up your back, knowing how sensitive you are to the feeling. Your back aches again at the feeling.  

“Fuck, baby. Mhm. You make me feel so good.”

Junho chuckles, leaning forward a bit more to kiss your cheek. 

“I promise to always make sure to take care of my girl.”

TAGLIST (pls let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in smut)!! : @vinaluvsu @ninglovr @okaycharr

[sangwookisser]

☆ALL IN - THE SALESMAN

cw: dumbification, degradation, praise, bondage, manipulation, mean man, naive! reader, fem reader, use of girl, piv, knives, blood, age gap, reader is in college, not proofread

Things for you had been painfully mundane since you came to South Korea.

The dream of studying abroad felt like a distant memory now, overshadowed by the crushing weight of student loans, the mounting rent for your tiny, damp apartment, and the gnawing guilt of having asked your parents for help more times than you cared to admit.

You'd been blinded by the shiny promise of a new life, a promise of mastering a language, soaking in vibrant culture, and making lifelong friends. The glossy brochures and campus videos hadn’t prepared you for the harsh reality of your endless part-time job that barely covered utilities, let alone anything fun or remotely exciting.

Instead, you're dodging calls from the bank, turning down invitations to go out from classmates because you can't afford a coffee, and rationing cup noodles and shitty canned food to try and make it to your next payday without starving.

Tonight was no different. A long shift at the convenience store had left your feet aching and your mind clouded with worry about how you’d manage next month’s tuition installment. You were on your way home, the subway platform dim and almost eerily quiet.

Then, like clockwork, your string of bad luck reared its head: the train you’d been sprinting for slid away with a hiss, the doors snapping shut in your face just as you reached the edge of the platform.

You curse, doubling over to catch your breath. Your voice echoed, but no one cared enough to glance your way. You slumped onto the nearest bench, the cold metal biting through the thin fabric of your tacky work pants. You bury your face in your hands, wondering where it all went wrong.

Raising your head, your reflection in the train station's grimy tile wall looked as defeated as you felt—messy tendrils of hair escaped your ponytail, your makeup patches in some areas, and there was a hole in the sleeve, one you kept telling yourself you’d fix but never did.

The cold silence of the station was broken by a soft, measured voice.

"Hello."

You blinked, startled, and looked up to see a man standing a few feet away. He was dressed impeccably, a dark suit fitting him perfectly, his posture relaxed but poised. His voice was calm, almost soothing, like he had all the time in the world to talk to someone as unremarkable as you.

You didn’t answer immediately, caught off guard by his presence. Who even approached people in subway stations like this? But there was something disarming about the way he smiled—not overly friendly, not threatening. Just calm.

Dangerous.

The man studied you for a moment, his head tilting slightly. In his mind, he noted how exhaustion clung to you, from the slouch of your shoulders to the defeated look in your eyes. Still, there was something quite captivating about you—maybe the soft, shiny hair framing your face, the long lashes shrouding sparkling, wide eyes, or the way defeat lit up your features just a moment ago when you cursed at the train. He tilts his head, still staring.

Pretty, he thought briefly, but he said nothing of it.

"You’re a foreigner, aren’t you?" he asked smoothly, his tone making it sound more like an observation than a question.

You stared back at him, swallowing thickly. He was the kind of handsome you didn't often see. It seemed untrustworthy, like his looks were meant to lure you into a false sense of intrigue. His dark hair is slicked back perfectly, and he's smiling lightly, though it doesn't seem to meet his eyes.

You hesitated but nodded, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. "Yes sir. I’m not from around here."

He let out a hum of understanding, and he can't deny the heat that spreads through his body at your breathy voice and the way you call him sir like he's superior to you. "Ah, that explains it. You have the look of someone far from home." He gestured to the empty bench beside you. "Mind if I sit?"

He didn’t even wait for an answer, lowering himself onto the edge of the bench with an easy grace, his briefcase resting neatly at his feet.

"What brings you here?" he asked, his tone still conversational, like he wasn’t prying but genuinely curious.

"School," you muttered, feeling oddly self-conscious under his calm gaze. "I’m studying here. Well, I was supposed to be studying here, mister. Things haven’t exactly gone as planned."

The man nodded slowly, as though he understood far more than you were saying. "It can be hard, being so far from home. I imagine it’s not easy. Are you on your own?"

You frowned, the vulnerability in his words hitting a little too close to home. You told him the truth before you realized how dumb it was to tell a stranger that you've got no one around who's looking out for your safety. "Yeah, b-but… I’m managing," you said, though even you didn’t sound convinced.

He nodded, still smiling. Somehow it felt both genuine and calculated. Your head was swimming. Was this a result of going so long without any real human interaction?

He leaned forward just slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. His fingers brushed against your sleeve—light, fleeting, casual. The kind of touch that could easily be dismissed, but still made you notice.

"So," he continued smoothly, sliding his fingers lightly through the hole in your sleeve, and he tuts softly. Mockingly. "What are you supposed to be studying?"

"Why does it matter?" you replied, feeling a little defensive, like you had to justify yourself. "Just... psychology. I wanted to study the mind."

“Psychology,” he repeated, his lips quirking up in an impressed smile. “Brains and beauty. Now that’s a combination.”

You stared at him, unsure whether to be flattered or suspicious. The way he looked at you made you feel oddly self-conscious, like he was dissecting every little detail—your messy hair, your tired eyes, even the nervous way you shifted in your seat.

Neither of you speak, and his hand brushed back and forth against your wrist, just long enough to feel deliberate. He notes how soft your skin is, and he looks into your eyes as he speaks again. "So tense. I’m not here to interrogate you. Just making conversation."

You flushed, unsure why your pulse suddenly felt faster. "What do you want?"

His smile widened, smooth as silk. "Maybe I just wanted to brighten your evening. You seemed like you could use some company."

Despite yourself, you let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, well, company doesn’t pay my bills, sir.”

"True," he said, leaning closer now, his tone dropping into something almost conspiratorial.

He wasn't supposed to be doing this. As a recruiter, there were unspoken rules about boundaries. A certain level of professionalism was expected—stay detached, keep the interactions brief, and never get personally involved. But you had caught his attention in a way most didn’t.

Perhaps it was the way in which your soft, wide eyes looked pathetically exhausted, the way your lips pursed and looked chapped from the way you'd worry them between your teeth, or the mild distrust in your tone. He hadn't even asked you to play his game yet.

Whatever it was, he found himself intrigued.

“I don’t usually do this,” he said, his voice dipping into a low, almost intimate tone. His eyes stayed on you, his gaze steady but not overbearing. “But why don’t you come back to my place? It’s quieter, and I promise we can converse much better.”

You blinked, startled by the casual audacity of the offer. Your instincts screamed at you to say no, and despite the faint blush creeping into your cheeks, you managed to find your voice.

“I… don’t think that’s a good idea, sir.” you said lightly, trying to brush it off without making things awkward. “Thanks, though.”

He lets out a soft laugh, leaning back and sliding his hand out of your sleeve so he can take a lock of your hair around his finger, twirling it absentmindedly. He hummed softly, his lips curling into a sly smile.

“Smart girl,” he murmured, leaning close. You avoided his eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and unease at how easily he read you. His fingers grazed your thigh, light and fleeting, like it was the most natural thing in the world. The touch sent a shiver up your spine, and yet you didn’t pull away.

He leaned in closer, his presence wrapping around you, the faint scent of cologne mingling with the crisp chill of the subway air. “You’ve got that sharp mind of yours working overtime, don’t you?”

“You’ve been pushing yourself so hard,” he continued, his voice laced with a mix of admiration and something softer, almost indulgent. “You remind me of someone trying to outrun the tide. It’s admirable, really, but how long can you go, all on your own, sweetheart?”

You swallowed hard, his words hitting you in a way you hadn’t expected. He made it sound so effortless, like he saw through every wall you’d carefully constructed.

“And look at you,” he cooed, his fingers trailing down to your wrist, brushing against your skin with a touch so light it was almost maddening. “Still standing, still fighting, even when it feels like the whole world’s against you.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he leaned in just enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His tone dropped, intimate and conspiratorial. “But maybe it’s time someone took care of you for a change.”

Your breath hitched, your chest tightening as his words wrapped around you like a cocoon. You weren’t sure if it was the way he said it, or the way his eyes seemed to pierce right through you, but something inside you started to unravel as arousal builds.

He tutted softly, his hand trailing lazily between your legs, spreading them apart softly. You flush, your face warming even more as you start to feel the thin cotton of your panties dampen. It's been so long. You haven't had anyone touch you like this in months. “Such a pretty little thing, aren't you?” he asked, his fingers tracing an idle pattern along the clothed slit of your pussy. “Even like this—tired, worn out. There’s something about you.” He smiled, almost to himself, his tone turning ever so slightly condescending. “Bet no one tells you that enough, do they?”

Your breathing quickened, a shaky whimper leaving your lips. You're still unable to meet his eyes. “It’s a shame, really. A girl like you deserves to hear it. Deserves to feel it.”

You bit your lip, every rational thought in your mind warring against the way he made you feel. Warm. Seen. Desired. He continued to drag two fingers up and down the soft plump lips of your pussy, and you moan, toes curling in your worn sneakers

“You’ve been running yourself into the ground,” he said, his voice honeyed and soft, like he was speaking to a child in need of reassurance. “You don’t have to do that tonight. Let me be the distraction you didn’t know you needed.”

His free hand grazed your jaw, tilting your face slightly toward his. His eyes locked with yours, and his smile deepened, almost triumphant. “Just for a while. Let go of all that stress. Let someone else carry the weight.”

You exhaled shakily, your resistance crumbling as his words seeped into the cracks of your exhaustion. When you finally nodded, your agreement was barely more than a whisper.

“Good girl,” he said softly, his voice dripping with approval. He stood then, extending a hand to help you up, his touch lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken.

"F-fuck..."

It'd happened more quickly than you'd expected. You didn't even get to have drinks before he'd had you up against the door of his clean, sterile apartment. It didn't look like anyone lived there, from the faint chemical scent it carried and the way the furniture looked unused. His lips were on your throat, one hand pulling your hair back to keep your neck exposed and the other undoing your pants. "You're swearing at me now, are you?" He tuts, leaving a sharp nip against the column of your neck. "That's far too crude for a little girl like you. Where did your manners go?"

You whine at his condescending tone, and he shoves your panties to your ankles along with your pants. He laughs as he palms your pussy. "So wet already, pet? How eager. You're making it too easy for me." He has a finger in you before you can even defend yourself, and he pumps in an almost bored, haphazard fashion, like he's doing a chore. He curls the digit, laughing softly when you scream as he digs the tip of his slender finger onto your sweet spot.

"Pathetic." He breathes. "Did it even occur to you that we haven't exchanged names? You're no better than the whores men pick up on the side of the street. Except that you're a great deal cuter than any prostitute." He pushes two more fingers in one go into your sopping hole, and you wail, your legs beginning to shake at the unfamiliar intrusion.

You hiccup, tears building at your waterline as he drags the pads of his fingers along your walls, his other hand tugging your hair back sharply. He smiles sweetly, pecking your forehead tenderly, before he undoes the buttons of your uniform top, tossing it to the ground, and your bra shortly after.

Your head swims, and you start to register what's happening, and he gives one of your tits a fondle, rubbing his thumb over your pebbling nipple before shoving his face back into your neck and inhaling. "Jasmine and vanilla." he sighs. "How intoxicating. Do you know what you do to me, you silly girl? It's as though my brain has shut off and all i feel is you. I'm not fond of it." He pumps his fingers more firmly inside you, and you moan, trying to grab him and tug him in for a kiss, but he tuts and pushes you back.

"No no. Sluts like you don't get privileges like kissing. They get used." And with that, right before the delightful release of your orgasm, he tears his fingers out from inside you. You let out a sob, before he laughs and mocks your pout, giving your cheek a light slap. He's still fully clothed in his suit. He picks you up swiftly, tossing you over his shoulder and putting you on his huge, cold bed in a room that looks more like an office than a living space, and he tears off his tie.

"Mmm, n-need you, hu-hurts." You beg weakly, feeling so stupid for babbling like a child. Again, he mocks your cries. "It hurts, sweetheart? You're being so greedy. Don't you know you're supposed to wait for your turn?"

You pout, hands reaching for him, which he pushes back and pins above your head, tying them quickly to his bedpost. You keen, writhing on the mattress with displeasure. "You know, I'm really tired of your groveling. You've been nothing but a brat since I brought you here. I miss the shy little thing who couldn't even look me in the eye at the subway. He gives your clit a light pinch, rubbing the heel of his hand against your cunt. Not enough.

"Pl-Please." You beg out, your voice high pitched and broken "I n-n- hic need y-your cock in me, mister, need it."

He hums softly, his thumb on your clit and palm on your dripping cunt as he stares into your pretty eyes, glassy with blown pupils.

"Aw. Is that supposed to convince me?" He shakes his head, dark hair falling beautifully into his eyes. "Why don't you try a little harder?"

"I... I'll... l-let you do anything to me. A-anything y-you w-want, if y-you p-put your cock in me."

His eyes light up as soon as you say it. "Anything, you say?" He pauses his movements, and you whimper at the lack of stimulation. He says no more, simply unbuttoning his shirt and shrugging off his suit jacket, tossing both to the floor. Then, he's unbuckling his trousers. His boxers are slightly damp, and a fat bulge causes the fabric to strain. Your mouth waters at the sight of his sleek abdomen, toned and pale, lacking any imperfections. You want to touch. He coos at the way your eyes sparkle.

"Where's the attitude now, sweet thing? Aren't you the cutest." He finally frees his cock, long, thick, and swollen. His balls are heavy, full, and sit pretty at the base of his veiny shaft. The tip is flushed, and he smirks at the way you marvel at it. You strain slightly, aching to touch, taste, feel. But he won't let you. Instead, he wraps a hand around your throat and smirks, grabbing something from a drawer by his bedside table. Sleek, clean, sharp.

Your blood runs cold.

"What? Scared?" He says, distracting you by sliding his tip up and down your dripping folds. "Shouldn't speak before you think then, pretty little whore. Now." He slides the bulbous tip of his cock inside you, and your back arches at the intrusion, a whiny moan leaving your throat. Beads of sweat drip down the valley of your breasts, and he marvels at the sight, but he doesn't move. In fact, as you buck your hips towards hip, trying to ease more of his cock inside you, he remains deathly still, instead, putting his blade flat against your throat.

You blink, your lips parted. He rocks his hips slightly, stretching you out further by pushing an inch of his cock in you, before he pulls out quickly, and re-enters, putting only his tip in you once more.

You're going crazy. He buries himself inside you to the hilt in one smooth thrust, a soft bulge forming in your tummy from how big he is inside you. You whine loudly, tongue lolling out of your mouth as drool gathers at the side of your mouth, tears spilling down your face. He laughs at how fucked out you already are, a soft grunt leaving his lips.

"Haa, s-so tight... fuck." He starts, unable to resist thrusting in and out a few times, your pussy too wet and too warm to resist the temptation. "You're mi-milking me dry... can barely move inside you."

It's like you were made for him, your gummy walls perfectly stretched out to cling to every last vein and ridge on his cock. Then, he gathers himself again and draws back, leaving just his tip inside you.

Again, you sob in frustration. The world around you spins, and you swallow dryly, pulling at the tie scraping softly against your wrists.

What a stupid little thing you are. He rocks a few inches of his cock inside you teasingly, his thumb pushing down on your clit again while his other hand holds the knife flat against your throat. You stare at him nervously, shaking as he starts to drag the cool metal down your body, and he frowns as you squirm. "Hold still." He commands, but you don't, and he pinches your nipple as punishment, pushing half of his cock in you. Distracted, you pant and moan, and he thrusts inside of you repeatedly, making your head swim. He's loud, groaning and moaning at the way you cling to him with your sloppy walls, your sticky juices coating his cock as he fills you to the hilt.

"Clinging to me so tight." He breathes. "Does the thrill of the pain excite you, princess? I'll show you how it can be." And with that, he cuts into your soft little tummy, right above where your stomach distends from the bloated head of his cock hitting every inch of you.

Moaning, the pleasure and pain makes your head swim, and the coil of an approaching orgasm builds in your stomach. you can't see what he's carving into you, but you feel too good to care. "S-so... g-good," You choke out, hooking your legs around his waist as he grabs your hip with one hand and angles your body up, causing the tip of his cock to kiss your cervix. You scream, letting go as you soak his cock with your cream, and he moans, pounding into you like an animal. He reaches between your legs and gathers your liquids, along with the blood on your stomach, and shoves his fingers into your mouth, so deep that your eyes roll back as the floaty feeling of your orgasm remains. He throws his head back and moans at the way your pussy clings to him when you continue cumming, and he considers pulling out for a moment to cum on your tummy, but with your legs wrapped around him, its clear there's only one place you want him to finish.

"Ahn, please... P-please, i-inside me, sir, want it s'bad" You slur around his fingers, and that's all he needs as he spills rope after rope of hot, thick seed deep inside you, right into your womb, with how deep he is. He takes his fingers out of your mouth and drags your hips to him so you're flush against him, and he fills you up, fingers digging into your sides.

He stays there for a moment before pulling out, letting his cum drip from your weeping, stretched hole, and he smiles and leans down, pressing his lips to your firmly, tasting your liquids on your tongue. His tongue enters your mouth, and he swirls his around yours, getting hard all over again from your taste, and he pulls back before it becomes too much. He smirks down at your fucked out expression, wiping sweat off his forehead as he admires the mark he'd cut onto you.

A pretty little heart for the girl who'd stolen his.

[pinkboaclub]

Musician Ex-Boyfriend

Summery: You and Harry are exes, on the day of your wedding, he pays you a visit, causing you to rethink things.

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: smut, cheating (not on Harry), fem!reader

"You look perfect."

You turned at the sound of his voice, and there he stood—Harry, in a sharp black, the sincerity on his face was palpable.

It was your wedding day, but not the one you’d envisioned. The love of your life wasn’t the man currently getting ready. No, he was standing in the doorway, on the verge of being caught.

You’d snuck away to collect yourself. You’d told your bridesmaids all day that you were close to tears from happiness, but that wasn’t the truth. It was fear, anxiety, regret—things you’d spent months ignoring, burying under a carefully constructed smile.

You quickly scanned the open room, making sure no one could see him.

“You can’t be here,” you said, your voice tight with urgency as you strode over to him, heels clicking sharply against the hardwood. “If someone sees you, they’ll start talking, they’ll—”

Before you could finish, Harry grabbed your arm, pulling you into the empty hallway. His hands found your waist, pulling you into him, his warmth and familiar scent filling your senses. You glanced over your shoulder, your heart racing as you checked again. No one was around.

"Harry, please," you whispered, trying to steady your breath, feeling the sting of tears rise again. "This isn’t right."

"I didn’t think you would go through with it." His voice was flat, emotionless, his eyes avoiding yours.

You swallowed, the weight of his words sinking in. You had met Harry when you were both 25. It was supposed to be casual—two people who shared a love for music, books, and movies. He’d been on tour with his band, and you’d happened to be in the same restaurant with friends when they all decided to head to a club. That’s where you two started talking, the connection immediate, as if you’d known each other forever.

The texts started right after, every day, just a few words at first, then entire conversations that lasted into the early hours of the morning. His tour ended, and soon enough, long-distance visits turned into real dates. Three years of love, laughter, and dreams of a future together. A future that seemed so certain until life, with all its complexity and distance, pulled you apart.

It wasn’t sudden. It was gradual—the small, constant strain that turned into arguments about who was too busy, who wasn’t putting in enough effort. And then, finally, the break-up. The day you sat on the couch in your shared home, too many unsaid words filling the air, the silence louder than anything you could say.

“I love you so much and I don’t think I’ll ever stop,” Harry had sobbed, turning toward you with pleading eyes. You didn’t answer, unable to speak through your own tears.

You didn’t even know how it had happened, but you went from sitting on your couch crying, to laying on the couch, kissing with drying tears on your cheeks, ripping each other's clothes off. Maybe it was a last resort to salvage something, maybe it was an intense goodbye, you never really knew.

After that, you stayed friends. You kept up the pretense for everyone else. Friends, family—they all still thought you’d get back together. Harry even brought it up a few times, and you’d feel that pull, that ache in your chest. Of course, you thought about it. How could you not? But the idea of losing him again, of having to grieve the loss for a second time, felt unbearable.

And yet, here he was, on the most important day of your life, not as the man you were about to marry, but as the man you once thought you’d spend forever with.

“I have to,” you said, your voice a little softer this time. “I have to marry him.”

“Why?” Harry’s voice cracked, his frustration palpable. “Why him? Why do you need to? Nobody believes you actually want this.” His eyes searched yours, desperate, pleading for something.

You didn’t have an answer that would make sense to him—or to yourself. All you knew was that your future, the one you’d once pictured with Harry, had slipped away, and now the only choice left was the one that terrified you the most.

You stood there, caught between two worlds—two versions of yourself, each one tugging you in a different direction. Harry’s eyes stared into yours, demanding something you couldn’t give. You wished you could explain it all to him, but the words were stuck in your throat.

“I do want this,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you believed it. “But... I don’t know how to explain it. I’ve tried to move on. I’ve tried to do the right thing, and I’ve convinced myself it’s what I want. But—” You stopped yourself before the tears could fall. “I don’t know what else to do.”

Harry’s hands were still around you, his grip tight, like he was trying to pull you into a reality where the two of you could make it work. But it wasn’t that simple. You’d both changed, grown in ways that made that dream of forever feel distant, impossible.

“I just wanted you to know,” Harry’s voice softened. “That I never stopped loving you. I never stopped hoping… I didn’t think you would go through with this. Not like this.”

Your chest tightened at the words. They hit harder than you anticipated. “I know,” you whispered. “I didn’t think I could either. But… I need to. For me.”

“For him, you mean,” Harry corrected, his tone heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. Hurt? Anger? Maybe both. But there was a quiet desperation in his voice that made it hard to breathe.

You hesitated. “He’s a good man. And I do love him. I do. But it’s not... the same.”

Harry’s jaw clenched at your words, but he didn’t pull away. He just stared at you, his eyes dark, like they were holding back everything he wanted to say.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said softly, almost too quietly for you to hear. “You’re pretending because it’s easier than facing the truth. You know it’s not right. But you’re too scared to admit it.”

The weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. You shook your head, trying to dismiss the gnawing feeling in your gut, the one that told you he was right.

“I’m not scared,” you said, but the words felt hollow. “I’m just trying to do the right thing.”

Harry took a step closer, his voice urgent now, low and rough. “What if the right thing isn’t what you’ve convinced yourself it is? What if you’re meant to be with me?”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, it was like time stopped. His presence enveloped you—the same pull you’d felt all those years ago, that same undeniable chemistry that had made you fall in love with him in the first place. But now, everything is different.

“I can’t,” you said, more to yourself than to him. “I can’t go through that again, Harry. I can’t lose you and have to pick up the pieces of me after. I don’t think I’d survive it a second time.”

“I’d never hurt you again,” he promised, his voice cracking with emotion. “I swear. I’d never let you go, not like I did before. Please, just—just think about it. Really think about what you’re about to do.”

The silence stretched between you two, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid.

Finally, you spoke, your voice trembling. “I can’t do this right now, Harry. Not today. Not when I’m about to be married, something I’ve promised to commit to. Please… just go.”

His face fell, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he stepped back, looking at you one last time, his expression full of pain and love and the remnants of hope.

“Okay,” he whispered. “But I’ll always be here, waiting for you. No matter what.”

And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you alone in the hallway, the echo of his footsteps still ringing in your ears.

You stood there for what felt like an eternity, your mind spinning with everything Harry had just said. His words—his love, his pain—still hung in the air, refusing to dissipate.

But you had made a promise. To him, to yourself, and to the man you were about to marry. You had to keep moving forward, even if it felt like you were walking into the unknown.

You wiped the tears from your eyes, taking a deep breath as you turned to face the door at the end of the hall. The moment was passing, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that, somehow, it wasn’t over. Not yet.

The sharp click of another pair of heels echoed from the other end of the hall, and you barely registered it before Aaliyah rounded the corner, her expression a mixture of relief and concern.

“There you are! I was starting to think I’d lost you for good! I-what’s wrong?” She halted in her tracks, eyes scanning your face, a frown forming as she looked at the tear stains streaking down your cheeks.

You quickly wiped your face, not caring that your makeup was surely ruined. "I—uhm," you faltered, struggling to find the words. "I’m just... nervous."

You almost told her everything. You wanted to. Aaliyah had been there for you through all of it—through the endless debates over whether or not you should try again with Harry. She knew the truth. She’d always known. But today wasn’t the day for honesty. Today was for pretending, for keeping the peace, for stepping into the life you thought you’d chosen.

“Oh, I know it’s stressful, but it’ll all be okay!” Aaliyah said, wrapping her arms around you in a comforting hug. You leaned into her warmth, her helping for only a moment. "I think I just need a little more time alone. To clear my head. Maybe go up to my room for a bit, have some water, a snack, you know?"

She hesitated for a split second, her eyes lingering on you as if she could see right through your smile, but she nodded, understanding your need for space. “Alright, I’ll stay down here. Just… don’t stay away too long, okay?”

“Promise,” you said, offering a small smile as you hugged her back, then hurried past her, your heels clicking against the floor as you made your way toward the elevator.

You had rented a hotel suite for the bridal party to get ready, a place where you could unwind and prepare. Your fiancée had his own room, staying with his groomsmen, where they were now. You had also reserved a hotel room for you and your fiancé to stay in before your honey moon in two days… so, now you had a free room to be alone in—well, almost alone.

As soon as you stepped into the room, you closed the door behind you with a soft click. You slowly slipped off the silk robe you’d been wearing, the one that said “Bride” in sparkling letters across your back, and traded it for the simple hotel robe draped on the back of the bathroom door.

Then you pulled out your phone, scrolling far down your contacts. Your thumb hesitated for just a second before you started typing.

“If you’re still in the hotel, I’m on floor 4, room 415. If you meant what you said, I’ll be here, waiting.”

A sharp knock at the door made you jump. Your heart pounded in your chest as you forced your legs to move toward it, each step heavy and unsteady. When you opened the door, there he stood, his brow furrowed with concern.

"I can't marry him," you murmured, barely audible. The weight of the words broke something inside you, and tears began to spill down your cheeks.

Without hesitation, Harry stepped forward, pulling you into his arms. He closed the door softly behind him, the world outside suddenly fading away. You clung to him, your sobs muffled against his shoulder, as if his presence was the only thing keeping you in reality.

When you finally pulled away, your eyes locked, searching for the words you had meant to say. But they escaped you. Instead, with a sudden, desperate impulse, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss was everything you’d missed, everything you’d been longing for—and it felt like home.

"I am scared by how much I want this, how much I want you." You finally said after you pulled away from your kiss. Harry tucked your hair behind your eye, taking a moment to admire your features before speaking.

“I don’t want you to be scared of me…of us…because I know-I know it would work this time. Were not as young, we know how to balance our schedules, and we know what it’s like to not be with each other. I love you so much Y/N”

Before you could cry anymore, you caved in to everything you knew you wanted. You kissed him again, this time leading him to the hotel bed.

"I am devoted to you," He murmurs as he unties your robe, his eyes not leaving your face. You both lay back. He watches the way your eyes widen when he moves one hand between your thighs to tenderly touch your core. "Let me please you," He knows he sounds needy, but he can't help it as he looks upon the woman he would do anything for.

“Please do.”

He took his eyes from your face and let them travel down your body, this was the first time he had seen you like this since you had broken up. He took in every inch of you, your beautiful bra-clad breasts, your rapidly moving stomach as you breathed. Then, your legs. Your left leg had a white lace garter belt on it. His hand slowly traveled up until he got to the garter belt.

“Supposed to be a tradition…a very odd one.” You broke the silence.

“I’m not complaining.”

He slowly pulled off the belt, your underwear following it.

He moves forward and leaves a trail of kisses along the soft skin of your abdomen and then down over your quivering thighs as his hand moves between your legs, letting his finger slip into you.

After watching the first drop of your arousal slide down his index finger, he had enough. He pulls his hand back and grips your thighs to keep you still while his mouth devours you.

Your soft little moans and attempts at saying his name make him grip you tighter, using his tongue in even more intricate ways just to coax out more of your sweetness, more of your angelic sounds. He squeezes one of your thighs and then slides his hand up along your side until his hand finds yours. He twines your fingers together, and then he gets back to devouring you like he was starving.

"I need more, Harry, please," You beg so prettily that he considers asking you to do so again, but he feels like it would be cruel after you’ve been so patient.

"Of course,"

He kisses you deeply to drown the pained whimper when he pushes his cock inside you without a pause, thinking it’s best if he gets the painful part over with as fast as possible. He grunts against your mouth as your nails dig into his shoulders. He stays still and kisses away your tears until you start laughing beneath him.

You’re the one who indicates that he is allowed to move by grinding your hips up against his. He hums in understanding and starts to thrust into you again. You too get lost as he find a perfect rhythm.

He flips you over with one quick motion after he has watched your breasts bounce for too many agonising moments without being able to do anything with them, his mouth becomes focused on them, finding the spots that make you cry out his name as loudly as you could.

“Fuck, baby.” He says, admiring your body continuously bouncing up and down. You move quicker at his encouraging words, riding him faster than you thought you could.

He takes one of your breasts in his mouth, twisting his tongue around your nipple, kneading the other with his hand.

You rock your hips back and forth, feeling the familiar surge of warmth spread through your body like—the same warmth he could only give you, one that was 10x stronger than your fiancé could have ever given you.

Your orgasm soon followed. You didn’t care about how loud you were. You didn’t care if someone walked in right now, you’d almost prefer it, maybe it would be your fiancé, or someone you both knew, they would tell him you snuck up to your room to ride the musician ex boyfriend, then you wouldn’t have to do it yourself.

“I-fuck Harry, it’s…” You stop, letting yourself moan from the euphoria you’re feeling. “It’s so good.” You finally spit out.

He chuckles at your inability to properly express your blissful feelings and tangles his fingers in your hair to pull you down for a deep kiss. He lets out a low groan as your fingers dig into his chest, followed by the shuddering of your body and the clenching of your walls around him that prompt him to spill his cum inside you.

"Fuck," he mutters as he tears his mouth away from yours. He knows neither of you should have done that, however, as Harry looks up at your blissed expression, he does not regret it, not one bit.

His arms wrap around your torso, letting you rest your head on his shoulder. He lightly rubbed his fingers up and down your back. The only thing that could be heard in the room was your heavy breathing.

“I love you, Harry.”

[liketolaugh-writes]

Clark was embarrassed to admit it, but the first thing he did every morning was usually to check the inbox of his official Superman email. He tried not to check it too often, but in the morning, reading those emails reminded him why he did what he did. Why it was so important to keep treating each civilian with such compassion, and not allow himself to become preoccupied with other things while he worked.

There were at least half a dozen emails every morning, more after major events, and he read them all. Occasionally, one stood out.

To Superman,

I wanted to tell you that I really admire you for what you do. I'm fifteen now and you've been a pillar of safety for as long as I can remember, and I can't imagine how much dedication it takes day-to-day, especially for as long as you've been a hero. I hear stories all the time about how considerate you are, and how understanding, and how unconditional your compassion is. It's something I try to keep in mind.

You haven't saved me. Not personally, I mean, and that's not why I decided to email you. I actually wanted to ask you for some advice, if that's okay.

See, I'm not human. I'm not going to tell you what I am, but it's really obvious whenever I'm using my abilities, although I can hide it the rest of the time. (My parents are human and even they don't know. They don't like my kind.) I started doing hero work about... eight months ago now. But the people in my city are scared of me, because of what I am. And I wondered if you had any advice about that. Everyone knows what you are, and how powerful you are, but no one is afraid of you. Well... no one reasonable is afraid of you.

I'd really appreciate any suggestions you might have for me, but either way, thank you for everything that you do.

From Danny

Clark set his chin on his hands and considered the email for a while. It wasn't unheard of for young heroes to email him for advice - all of the Justice League founders got them sometimes except, amusingly, Batman, the only one with significant experience teaching new heroes. But it was rarer for those heroes to identify themselves as nonhuman.

His parents must have found him and taken him in without knowing what he was. For those same folks to be anti-alien... Clark's heart ached for the young hero, growing up without the kind of support Clark had gotten. It was admirable of him to stick to it despite an apparently chilly reception.

He set his hands on the keyboard and started to reply.

---

Danny was shocked to receive an actual reply from Superman just the morning after he sent his email. He hadn't expected a reply at all, really - surely Superman had better things to do than read emails from random civilians? But he'd been awake long past his bedtime, kept up by the aching burn on his back from Valerie, and sent it in a fit of self-pity.

And Superman had replied.

To Danny,

The more time passes, the more often I hear from kids and even young adults that I've been making them feel safe for as long as they've been alive. That is worth more to me than you could imagine, and it makes every day of hard work worthwhile. Given what you've told me already, I think you're doing an excellent job of keeping those values in mind.

Believe it or not, my reception was rather lukewarm at first as well, for much the same reason. Batman and my media contact, Lois Lane, helped me straighten the issue out over the first few years. (Yes, I'm sorry to say, it may take years for you to be fully accepted.)

Here are some suggestions:

Try to stick around for at least a little while after each incident you help with. Let people talk to you. Let them see you outside of fights or feats of strength. You are not a combat machine.

Don't be too secretive about yourself. You implied that you have a secret identity, but there are still things generic enough for you to share without giving yourself away. Work with those.

Don't hide what you are, and don't lie about the traits that you have from it. I know it might seem like a simple short-term solution, but it won't help you in the long run. It will just make people suspicious.

Let people know at least part of your motive for helping people. My planet was destroyed, and I want to protect this one. The same goes for Martian Manhunter. Starfire fled her planet and has found this one to be much kinder. Be as open as you can.

Keep yourself safe. Don't be open about your weaknesses, no matter what people say to you. Don't linger too long around people who openly hate you. Don't allow yourself to be a target for hatred.

I hope you find these ideas helpful. And feel free to contact me for further advice anytime you want. I check my email every morning and I'm always happy to help a budding hero.

From Superman

Danny muffled a delighted squeal into his arm. Sam and Tucker weren't going to believe this!

---

It soon became apparent that Danny was either mostly or completely without an adult support system, because he quickly took to emailing Clark every day, usually in the early evening or late at night. Clark continued to read them in the morning and reply to them as thoughtfully as he could, and Danny soon grew to be a constant presence in his inbox. Which also meant...

"You're worrying about Danny again," Lois pointed out over breakfast.

"I wouldn't worry about Danny if he didn't say such worrying things," Clark muttered, rubbing his hand over his face.

Because over the last year, that trend had quickly become apparent. Whatever Danny was, their reception was more hostile than any other Clark had encountered on Earth, matching more to some of the blood feuds he'd heard of on other planets. Every few emails, he slipped in the most concerning little nuggets, seemingly without noticing.

One day my parents are going to invent a shield that actually locks me out of the house and I'll really be in trouble.

I keep trying to do what you said and stick around to talk, but it never lasts for long before the hunters show up and start shooting at me, which makes things kind of awkward.

I don't know what I would have done if defeating that tyrant guy hadn't brought my city back to Earth.

I wish there was some way I could convince the hunters that I'm just trying to help.

And now, most recently:

It's illegal to be what I am now. I'm getting kind of scared.

"I think I'm going to call out of work today," Clark said at last, still staring down at his computer. "I need to do some research."

What was Danny that he had apparently just been declared illegal?

Danny Fenton sends Superman a fan email in which he asks for advice. In it he says he is also a non-human hero (he is vague because being a ghost is illegal) Danny mentions that he is being raised by humans. His parents don't know about his activities or species and hate his kind.

Danny was mostly looking for advice on how to make people stop being scared of his non-human characteristics. But Clark really sees himself in this teenager's email. He knows he was lucky to get parents who loved him even as an alien, but he also recalls being young and scared that would change.

So they start regularly exchanging emails, and Superman becomes a kind of mentor even if Danny refuses to tell him anything about his identity.

[rose24207]

Anything with jealous landoo where he's like "your mine" and make it mafia!lando

I know I’m yours

Summary: Lando's jealousy boils over at a gala when a stranger gets too close to you, prompting him to assertively remind you—and everyone else—that you’re his.

Genre: Mafia!Lando, jealous, possessive

TW: None!

A/N: so sorry it took so long but here you go!! English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Masterlist

The dimly lit room was alive with the low hum of conversation, glasses clinking as people mingled in the extravagant gala. It was a rare public appearance for Lando, the infamous leader of the mafia that controlled more than most could ever imagine. Tonight, however, wasn’t about business.

It was about you.

You stood near the bar, laughter spilling from your lips as you chatted with a man Lando didn’t recognize. He watched from across the room, his jaw tightening as the stranger leaned closer, his hand brushing your arm.

The smile on your face made Lando’s blood boil—not because he didn’t want you to be happy, but because someone else was making you laugh when that was his job.

He had been patient all night, keeping his jealousy in check as people approached you. But now, his control was fraying. The man’s lingering touch and the way his gaze swept over you like he had any right to look at you that way—it was too much.

Lando straightened his suit jacket, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders as he stalked toward you. His movements were smooth but purposeful, the kind of walk that made people part like the Red Sea.

By the time he reached you, the smile on your face faltered at the intensity in his stormy blue eyes.

“Lando,” you greeted, but your voice was softer now, like you already knew you were in trouble.

His arm slid around your waist, pulling you flush against him as he fixed the man with a cold, sharp glare. “I don’t think we’ve met,” Lando said, his tone polite but laced with danger.

The man stammered out his name, but Lando didn’t care. His focus was solely on you now. Tilting your chin up with his fingers, he studied your face as if searching for reassurance. “You’ve been having fun without me, love?” he murmured, but there was a possessive edge to his words.

“I was just talking,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Talking,” Lando repeated, his lips twitching into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s what we’re calling it now?”

The man had the sense to excuse himself, mumbling something about getting another drink. Lando didn’t even spare him a glance as he walked away.

His attention was entirely on you.

“Do you enjoy testing my patience, darling?” he asked, his voice dropping lower.

You shook your head quickly, your cheeks flushing under his intense gaze. “It wasn’t like that, Lando. I swear.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Good,” he murmured, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Because you’re mine. And I don’t like sharing.”

The possessiveness in his tone made your heart race, but there was a tenderness in the way his hand slid up your back, grounding you.

“Do I need to remind you of that?” he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

“No,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I know I’m yours.”

His lips curved into a satisfied smile, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “That’s my girl.”

Lando kept you close for the rest of the night, his arm firmly around your waist. And every time he caught someone looking at you for too long, he’d send them a glare that left no room for interpretation.

You belonged to him, and he wasn’t afraid to show the world.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @ipushhimback, @ladyoflynx, @lewishamiltonismybf, @cmleitora, @hxxi3, @same1995, @amatswimming

[imliterallyf7ckin9crazy]

“𝔄𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡, 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔢𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡”

Nam gyu (124) x gn!reader x thanos (Choi su bong/player 230)

Warnings: angst kinda comfort…You’ll see, canon death, spoilers ig?, blood and violence, drug use, nam gyu isn’t that good of a person (still somehow my fav but whatever)

If you haven’t seen episodes 6 & 7 pls spare yourself. I literally used some dialogue from the English transcript

A/N: Okokok this will be my last nam gyu and thanos post for a sec so I can write stuff for arcane. Then some of my other favs from squid game too. But I cooked this up for these guys :3

TLDR: you, 230, and 124 are close friends. there’s the huge fight in the boys bathroom and thanos is killed by 333. Nam gyu comes out talking all crazy. You sit with him and he tells you what actually happened. And that he and everyone else who voted ‘O’ wants to attack the ‘X’ choosers during lights out.

————

Your eyes wade between the separated groups in the room. The vote ended in a danm tie, meaning the vote must be redone tomorrow. And people better have changed their vote.

Everyone was on edge, the hostility between the ‘X’ and ‘O’ groups was palpable. Glares, taunts, threats… even though the split existed from the beginning it still felt like everyone was in it together. Now it feels like a cage fight.

You sigh and rub your face, pulling yourself out of your habitual people watching. Nam gyu and thanos scampered off to the bathroom together. To ‘talk to our boy min-su about his vote’ as thanos put it. They promised to be back soon, and it was just to convince him to change his vote for the recount.

You knew that was bullshit. You knew and they knew the guy, player 333, was also in there. Along with half the ‘X’ team. They brought trouble everywhere they went. Sparing no one but each other… and you? In a way. They still strong armed you into sticking with the games, and they don’t really let you go far. They always appear together at the just right time to pull you off and rambled their fried little heads off. It made you feel special, and it’s safe to say you were left alone by everyone else.

But they have been gone for a suspiciously long time. Min-su isn’t known to stand up for himself so it can’t be him holding them up. Instead of observing your peers, your attention was now trained on the men’s bathroom door. Two pink soldiers stood just outside, guns clutched in hand.

‘What could be taking them so long?’ You wondered as you stared and stared and stared until you could have sworn you saw the door shake in its frame. Like something was being thrown against it. You kept looking, trying to decipher if you were just seeing things. Just as you begin to stand up money began to flow from the dispenser into the growing pot of money. Very soon after players began to clamber out of the bathroom.

The men walked out of the ‘O’ side first, battered to all hell with each one spattered with sickening amount of blood. Your eyes raced between the first few players to come out, searching for your friends. Desperate to see your only source of comfort, friendship and safety hasn’t been taken from you. Then nam gyu came out, equally doused in blood if not more so. Hands stained dark red with fresh blood, looking at everyone with this insane look in his eyes and out of breath. But no thanos. You immediately got the hint you’d never see him walk out of there.

He starts telling everyone that the ‘X’ players attacked the ‘O’s in the bathroom to sway the votes. Before that got too far it the other side made their way out, claiming that it was actually the ‘O’ team started the blood bath. The whole situation became who’s lying and who’s not. Further stirring the pot of resentment in the room. However that didn’t matter much to you. What mattered is that you still had something to cling to in a place where lives are ended over nothing. After the whole debate you got up and caught up to nam gyu who was making his way to thanos’ bed with dazed steps.

“Nam gyu!” You called for him, making him look over his shoulder in disgust until he saw it was just you. His facial expression changed from irritated to somewhat relieved. But he looked very different, even though nothing changed. He was covered in blood that wasn’t previously there obviously but it was something in his eyes. In his demeanor. In his soul. He stopped for a second for you.

When you get within his reach he is immediately resting his hands on your shoulder and giving them light pats. You think it’s his way of saying he’s ok. It was unusual for him to be so quiet, he usually has infinite things to say. You move to put your hands on his forearms in return. “What the actual fuck happened in there?”

All he did was tilt his head to the side, gesturing to thanos’ bed you all used to hang out. Clearly whatever it was he didn’t want anyone to know or hear. You just nod and follow as you walk with him until he crawls onto thanos’ bed and rubs his face as if he’s trying to tell if this is all real. Eventually he looks at you with tear glazed eyes, but not one tear fell. Quietly he reveals thanos’ cross out from his pocket.

“Oh, Thanos, you fսcking idiot. You were a piece of shit dude, you know that?” He says and you look at him with a confused expression. You could tell he didn’t mean it, why else would it be when you look at him you can tell it hurts him. He can try to pretend he doesn’t care, but he does. He pops open the cross and takes a pill out and places it in his mouth. “Couldn't get my name right”

“What happened.” You repeat, sitting down next to him, shoulders touching. He immediately leaned on you. He looks at you and gives the fakest chuckle you’ve ever heard.

“We were…discussing the vote with min-su” nam gyu starts “but that fucking cunt myung-gi came in acting all smart. He threw the first punch and it just kept going from there…” he trailed off, looking at you with this lost, dead look. “He’s gone”

You knew that, but it still hurts. You could tell it hurt him to say too. You lean your head on him as tears well in your eyes. Thanos was a terrible person, that’s just a fact. But he was different one on one. With the silly names, dancing, rapping… he always had something to say and made sure you had safety measures. Constantly reassuring you that him and nam gyu wouldn’t let you die.

Player 333….

“We lost one more than the other team. We’d lose the vote.” He picks the conversation back up, speaking in a soft voice. The voice he uses when he wants something. “We have to attack them tonight. Kill them. So we can keep playing”

Your jaw drops a bit. He’s really asking you to kill people so you both can stay and possibly die too? Like thanos? Like all the other strangers you had to watch he murdered inches away from you. “I don’t know…I don’t know if I could do that nam gyu-“

Suddenly nam gyu grabs your hand, looking you in the eyes as he places something small and round in the palm of your hand then closing your hand around it with a twisted smile. You look.

It’s a small bright red colored tablet. One of thanos’ little pills. You look up at nam gyu nervously. You open your mouth to protest but he doesn’t let you. “Just take it. It will help you. Don’t you want the money? Don’t you want to see each other outside of here, huh? Have a good life?” He pressures you, taking his hands and playing with your jacket, sleeves, anything on you he could touch. “This is how we can do that, yeah? You’ll feel better after you take that, I swear. Then it will be over after light out, okay?”

You just nod, close your eyes and take the pill, crushing it in your teeth. “There you go” he praises. He pulls a bloody fork from his pocket. “You can do you it” he says with a deadly smile. And all you can do is agree as you begin to feel lighter and lighter

————

[lafiola]

The Recruiter x Fem!Reader [PART 1]

cw: gun play, blood kink, forced oral (f receiving), forced kissing, non-consensual touching, sadism, dead dove: do not eat, non-consensual masturbation, stalking

!!: the tags correspond to the second part, but I'm leaving them here just in case

I'm going to die tomorrow, and if you find this, it's probably too late. It's embarrassing that I don't know you, and you don't know me, but I hope you can have some empathy for my fate; and maybe somewhere where I can be happy, that will help me have some compassion for my next life.

.

.

.

.

The tiny letter you had left as a pitiful legacy had been left behind; on one of those stone benches in the enclosed park, where the tramps used to go to sleep. You thought that many of them would pay no attention to it, and lost sighs during each word would be of no use, but you did it anyway: you leaned the paper in a corner, pressed by a stone so that the wind would not blow it away. Your letter was going to be read; at least the first few words. That was enough.

Your death was going to be disastrous, that was certain. You had chosen one of the highest bridges, the one over one of the busiest avenues. When it was three or four o'clock in the morning you were going to jump off it; your body would crash to the asphalt, interrupting traffic, and your brains would paint the pedestrian crossing where a group of police and assigned professionals would soon come to inspect your remains. Quite dramatic, to be sure, but memorable.

You were still a bit sad to die like that; with so many people watching. That was what you wanted most of all: to die. It was as simple as that. But who could assure you that no one would record you? Who would forget you at the end of the year? People really die when they are forgotten, because what is man but the result of a social construction; and if at least one human being could have a fragment of you in their memory, engraved like your flesh against the rough ground at the dry impact of the fall, something so simple and brutal, how could you really disappear? You were to be the icon of an ephemeral internet star; some pitiful soul representative of the underdogs, those unable to do what you would do in a couple of hours.

You didn't want your soul locked up in limbo, in the same world where you could no longer find your spouse. You wanted to go with them.

You felt it deep inside you; in that corner so easily mistaken for the heart. You knew that they had died long ago, after they had returned and disappeared again to play those infamous games they talked so much about. Big money, they said; that there was a big prize for whoever could make it to the finish line. Many people in one place, like rats, and prey to some strangers with morbid ideas.

True or not, your spouse had no longer returned home. Dead or missing with the supposed prize. It didn't matter to you; you had spent every last penny to pay off your debts. Debts that were not really yours, but no one else's either. It was just you, the bridge... and the stranger in the suit underneath. 

Someone in the middle of the street.

A car or two honked their horns from time to time as they passed by the man. He kept looking up at you. You couldn't quite make out his features, but you'd bet it could be grief judging by his free hand raised in the air; between his fingers a piece of paper that suddenly reminded you of your letter. You felt ashamed again.

‘’It's not safe to stand on the edge of such a high bridge!‘’ he shouted. You could hear a smile in his voice.

You didn't answer, but as soon as you saw him head for the stairs leading to the bridge, you jumped down to make a dash for the other end. Your plan now was to escape. If the man caught up with you, you were going to have to explain yourself or, worse, face the police or paramedics, as you had sometimes seen with other cases of interrupted suicides. You didn't want to face up to something so overwhelming. Death shouldn't be overwhelming!

Halfway down the stairs you stumbled, and had to grab the handrail with both hands. Your body slammed sideways into the rest of the steps, and your thighs burned with the friction of the icy metal. Wearing shorts had not been a good choice. When you got to your feet as soon as you heard another call, you went back down step by step until you hit the street, and didn't look back before catching your breath and running as fast as you could; your heart in your throat, and your name in the wind, spoken by a stranger's voice with a laugh akin to that of a friend.

The stranger in the suit who seemed to know you, and whom you had never seen before in your life.

Night was already coming to the city. You had to keep your eyes open and gather your courage to cross the emptier streets; you avoided bars, restaurants or crowded areas. Your goal was to escape the pair of hurried footsteps behind you. He seemed to be about to catch up with you.

Said and done, a hand with strong fingers grabbed one of your arms, and made you stumble to the side. Your back hit one of the walls of a closed alley. When you opened your eyes, the pain clouding your vision, it took you some time to notice the imposing figure of the stranger in front of you. He was panting as much as you, but he smiled consistently while arching his eyebrows.

The sound of his briefcase hitting the floor startled you. Seconds later, your letter appeared in his free hand again.

“It’s yours, isn’t it?” he asked in a choked murmur. A few strands of hair fell into his face, accentuating his darkened eyes. His sallow skin glistened under a sheen of sweat. “The letter—it’s yours.”

“How do you know my name?” The only sensible thing you could think of to say was that. Tiredness and nerves interrupted something in your head.

His hand released your arm, caressing your bare skin to soothe the pain. It was an instant. Your letter ended up in your hands; the stranger fixed his hair, jacket and shirt, and then took his distance. You were about to repeat your question, when the name of your spouse came out of his mouth.

Name, age, address and debt. You immediately jumped at the last part.

"I've already paid off that debt!”

"I know," he nodded, "That's not why I've addressed you.”

"And why did you chase me all the way out here then?”

"It has been deemed necessary for you to know of the passing of your spouse. They have left nothing behind; but perhaps this news is more than enough for you to be able to live in peace.”

His eyes fell on the letter in your hands. You shook your head, stretching your arms out to him. The paper trembled over your fingers as a breeze brushed against it.

"I have done everything I had pending so far," you replied. "What remains for me is the solitude of the early dawn, and with it, my impending death.”

“Solitude?” he arched his eyebrows again, dwarfing the smile. “You seek solitude on the busiest avenue to end your life?”

“It's not something you should be interested in.”

“It seems to me that you're afraid of dying alone,” he snorted. “In fact, I think you were waiting for someone like me to show up to save your life. If this is distressing, it's because of your lack of ability to make a good decision.”

You choked on your saliva. “Excuse me? What was that all about?”

Your name, your age and your address hung in the air after leaving between his lips. Lips that you didn't stop seeing until his voice faded into the night.

“How do you know so much about me?" you whispered. "What have you done to my partner?”

“What you would have done to yourself had you not been responsible enough for your own problems,” he replied. “Congratulations on paying off your debt.”

.

.

.

.

A weirdo, that's what you thought of the stranger when you saw him leave. He was heading to the bridge again; possibly to recruit more people desperate for some money. Something like that was what you imagined all the time when you thought of your spouse. Had they suffered a lot in the process? Where had they been taken? Were they coming for you, or did the stranger really show up to announce your loss?

For a week you continued to ponder the idea of suicide, while living with paranoid scenarios at every suspicious sound or face. Sometimes you would turn around as you walked, looking for the same eyes in the crowd, and you would even look for a job to cover the cost of rent a little far from where you lived. Until you could sell that house you were going to keep hiding from a ghost.

You went back to the torturous routine; you fed when memories did not punish your mind, and slept when your heart no longer ached. No way did you ever cross the bridge again, let alone the adjacent avenues. You struggled to regain your composure until nothing helped: The Recruiter had returned at the three-month mark.

You found him on a platform, casually sitting in complete solitude. At least until you ran down the stairs. The train had already left, the stranger's eyes were on you, and there was nothing you could do when you had your body on the same surface. You didn't even look him in the face; you feigned ignorance, barely trembling when you heard him sigh very close to you.

“I haven't seen you again in a long time,” he said. “Was the suicide plan finally scrapped?”

You snorted to keep from letting out a dry, unfunny laugh. “I didn't want to run into you, and right now I realize I did the right thing.”

“Until now.”

When you turned to see him, he had his eyes on you again. It was an intense, opaque gaze, with a feeling akin to desire; something that made your skin crawl, and made you swallow dry. His smile didn't even feel polite anymore.

“You're really not going to take me?” you asked. “You're not going to do to me what you do to all those people?”

“What do you think I do to people?”

“They told me,” you continued in a broken voice. He arched his eyebrows, intrigued. “They told me about a ridiculous game with red and blue papers, and about the money and the slapping, too. Then they went home, and some time later disappeared again.”

“Well,” he shrugged, “it's not my fault. I never forced them into anything.”

“You killed them.”

“Oh, please,” he laughed. “I am a simple messenger. I bring the good news, and they decide. Nothing that happens next is up to me.”

“I don't believe you.” You let out a sigh, clasping your hands together over your lap. You kept your gaze on them. “What are you doing here, at the train station? What business is waiting for you?”

“Are you suddenly interested in me? How wonderful; I feel my cheeks burning.”

“You're ridiculous.”

The Recruiter's laughter broke the silence like an invasive melody. That made you nervous.

“Don't get any weird ideas about me!” you added.

“I've gotten a lot of ideas about you, but none really terrible,” he replies. “You're different from them; you're better. A lovely version.”

When you raised your head to look into his eyes, you found a slight smile on his face and a much warmer glow in his gaze. The Recruiter had leaned back, resting his back against the wall. Both legs slightly apart, and his hands on his thighs; his suitcase rested on the floor, brushing against one of his shoes.

The closeness of his right leg to your left leg did not make you uncomfortable at all, which might have generated some sort of embarrassment if not for the realization of his recent confession.

“You talk about me as if you know me,” you said. “Should I take that as a warning that I've been being investigated by a man in a suit?”

“You think that's sexy?” His smile widened as if fueled by the grace of a demon. That glint in his gaze returned to the same as before: dark and hungry.

"I think you are sick, and if you don't stop now, then I will go to the police.”

“Good luck with that,” he snorted. In one neat motion he rose from his place, and bent to pick up his suitcase before giving you one last look. “May the night be brief for you; I hope so with all my heart. I know you have not been sleeping well.”

“Because of you,” you growled.

The Recruiter let out another laugh, this time more charming. The echo continued even as he retreated on his way to the stairs, completely ignoring the arrival of the last train.

The idea that he had been resorting to the bridge to witness the resolution of your own grief made your hair stand on end. You didn't want to accept that someone so crazy was after you; but this man had clearly been tracking you, and you didn't know how much longer this situation would last without something terrible happening to you. How many women survived their stalkers? You were not going to be the exemption from a tragedy.

[writersblockedx]

Wedded Under War

You can now read Part Two Here

Pairing - Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader, slight Bestfriend!Steve Rodgers x Reader Summary - New York is plagued by a war between the White Wolves and SHIELD. Your older brother comes up with a solution: Wed you to their leader, Bucky Barnes. Warnings - Violence, arranged marriage Words - 2K

Masterlist

The first time you met James Buchanan Barnes, it was tainted in blood. It was a plan, to gather information without the man having any idea what he was doing, nor who he was talking to. Steve Rodgers and your older brother, Tony, had hatched the plan when you just turned twenty-one. For you to waltz in there, flirt enough and get him drunk enough that his tongue would slip. It should have been easy. In and out without the need for violence. Something so sparse in your line of work.

Natasha had picked out a dress for you. One that matched the formality of your old prom dress. Silk and tight, with barely any room for you to breathe. Tucked underneath, in case of emergency, were your weapons: A pistol, and a couple of knives. "Just in case." Natasha had assured as she strapped the last switchblade around your ankle.

And like that, you slipped out from the van where Steve and Natasha would be monitoring you. Flashing some fake confidence as you wandered towards a cocktail bar you had never stepped foot in before. It was for the rich kids of New York. The trust fund babies, the future lawyers and, most importantly, Bucky Barnes' favourite spot after a long week of causing havoc.

You ignored the rest of the crowd, heading towards the marble bar where you ordered a martini for the nerves. You cared little for what you were doing, your intention more than anything was to impress your brother in hopes of gaining more involvement with the job. If that meant looking pretty and flirting aimlessly with Bucky Barnes then so be it.

The moment your lips hit the drink, your eyes finally scanned the room. You gazed across the drunken Ivy League types who were trying to impress people with their knowledge of the stock market. It didn't take long to find the man who didn't fit with the rest of the crowd: nestled in the corner, in a leather booth seated the leader of the White Wolves. He wore a clean shirt and blazer, ensuring you could still see his bulging biceps through the material. 

Within seconds, his eyes finally caught your obvious flirty gaze. It was a silent invitation for him to come over and join you. He was desperate, hungry from the get-go. He whispered something in his right man's ear before standing and waltzing over to you like he owned the place - which he probably actually did. "What are you drinking?" He questioned, smoothly.

You forced a smirk to your lips, "Why?" Your head tilted. "You buying?"

"Only if you say please." Had he been any other man, had this not been the job, you might have smacked him there and then.

Instead, you kept your expression stable and said, "I'll have a martini, please."

He nodded and returned his attention to the bartender, "An old fashioned and a martini." He requested. When the bartender had his back turned, Bucky gazed back at the pretty thing of interest. "I've never seen you here before."

"I'm meeting a friend." You lied before staring down at your watch. "At least I'm meant to be, they're late."

"Well, if you don't mind, I can keep you company." He didn't wait for your answer before slipping into the bar stool beside you.

"Of course, I don't."

Two drinks landed in front of you. Bucky thanked the man and tipped him ten times the amount any normal person would. But Bucky Barnes wasn't just anyone. He was rich with dirty money and had half of New York at his beck and call. "Cheers," He raised his glass, clinking it with your own.

Your brother always taught you to be careful around your drinks. He showed you how easy the enemies of the job could slip something in, to take advantage. And that worry laid heavy on your mind as you watched Bucky take his first sip. You barely let your lips touch the glass before placing it back on the bar. "So what do I call you?"

Another thing Tony had taught you was to never give your real name. "Natalie." Was the first thing you thought of; the same alias Natasha used. "And you?"

Bucky wasn't quite as smart. Or maybe he was just egotistical and liked the idea of the pretty girl calling his name. "Bucky." He nodded.

Your eyes flickered back over to his men who were still situated in the booth, throwing back neat whisky like it went down the same as water. They wouldn't be able to do much in that state. "You sure your friends don't mind you spending your time over here with me?" You queried.

Bucky smiled at the thought, "Please, they're too busy fighting over what gun has the best range." You doubted that was a lie. Maybe most other girls would have thought so, some maybe even laughed, but not you. "We can always join them if you'd like."

At that, you jumped, your hand practically crawling at his forearm for him to stay. "No," You spoke, almost too stern. "I like being here." You plastered that smirk back onto your face.

Bucky sank into his seat, not hiding the way his eyes followed your nails toward your body in that dress. "Good," He whispered.

You slowly let your hand slide away from his skin, "So what is that you do? Other than argue over other weapons?" You let the conversation change to something you might be able to get information on.

"Business."

"A bit vague, isn't it?" You jabbed for him to speak more. But, the best way to do that, was to put him at ease. For him to be far more interested in something else other than what he was saying. So your hand returned to his forearm, gently caressing against his skin. "I mean, you look like you must do something important." You smiled his way, not letting your eyes drop from his body.

"Importing." He finally answered and you realised you were getting somewhere.

So you let your hand slowly drag down his biceps which, while any other girl might have found hot, you were already calculating how hard his punch would hit against your face. "Hm, and what is it you import?" You questioned.

To your expectation, he was watching your movement carefully, a smirk plastered at his lips. "You ask a lot of questions."

You shrugged, moving your hand further and further down till it reached his finger tips, grazing across them. "You seem like an interesting man." You muttered.

"Maybe I want to know about you." He returned, leaning forward enough to put a hand to your thigh. But rather than finding your skin, his fingers hit something hard and metallic. The very weapon you had there, just in case. Your hand fell from his entirely, feeling his body tense at the touch of betrayal. You didn't move. "You should have known better than to come into my bar, in my city, with a silly little weapon like that." 

He was still. The man made no move for his own weapon that you were certain he was hiding under his blazer jacket. So, instead, you moved first. Your hand reached out, gripping at his brunette locks before forcing his head onto the marble bar side. A clash sounded at the impact. Enough to alert the rest of the customers who started screeching for help.

You rushed backwards, hand gripping at the gun that had outed you. Bucky stood from the bar stool, his hand wiping away at the blood which dripped from his forehead. Anger seethed in his pupils. Enough to make you search for cover as you caught the way his hand reached into his jacket pocket as you expected. "Move!" You ordered a group of college students.

Bullets whipped passed your head as you watched the rest of Bucky's men join in. Luckily, all the neat whiskeys had made their aim lazy. In the nick of time, you threw a table over onto its side and you covered your body against it, feeling every bullet which hit the wooden surface. The only thing protecting you from life and death.

Your hand pressed against the earpiece Natasha had given you, "Hey, you guys hearing this?"

"What the hell did you do?" The woman chimed in first as you leaned slightly over the top of the table to get a shot. One of which you assumed you missed as the bullets continued.

"Are you okay?" Asked Steve.

"Just one of you get in here please!" You begged.

You didn't understand the reply, but you liked to assume one of your friends were on their way. By now, most of the other customers had rushed out from the bar, the staff hidden in the back as the firing continued until the men started to run out of bullets. Despite their array of weapons, they weren't prepared for one girl to ruin their Friday night drinks. So without any extra ammo, they were left with one option: hand-to-hand combat.

When the firing stopped, your head looked above the wood once again, watching as Rumlow handed Barnes one of his daggers. You stood, kicking the table back in the way of Barnes. You raised your gun, an easy shot if you dared to take it. "You, silly little girl." Bucky spat.

Your head tilted at him and the rest of the men who had no way of hurting her anymore. Not when she was the only one with any ammo left. "Really? Looks to me that I'm the one with the upper hand." You pointed out.

The front door to the bar swung open. Out of instinct, they each held up their guns, without the ability to shoot at the red-headed Russian. "Let's go!" She ordered.

You gave Bucky one last victory glance before running back over to Natasha and exiting the bar unscathed. It had certainly been one way to welcome you to the job. 

---

"This has got to be a fucking joke?"

The stern expressions that faced you suggested they were all in fact serious. After years of war and bloodshed, this was their only solution for peace. "You want me- me to marry Barnes? That's-" You laughed at the idea of a domestic life alongside Bucky Barnes. It was such a stupid idea, you seriously couldn't imagine it. "That's obscene."

"It's tactical." Natasha offered.

To which, you gazed over at her as she stood beside the desk where Tony sat. His office was always filled by henchmen and paperwork. "Why aren't you the one marrying him then? Why do I get the short straw?"

"Because I'm not a Stark." She made a good point; a Stark marrying a Barnes would be more of a statement. The two names which battled over New York coming together through a marriage.

"It's the only way to keep everyone safe." Tony reasoned, making your eyes roll.

You scoffed, "Safe? Are you kidding me?" You couldn't image anything more dangerous than sleeping beside Bucky Barnes. "I would rather have that man stab me through the heart than put a flashy ring on his finger and call him mine!"

Steve, who had been quiet ever since the news dropped, finally met your eyes. "You don't have a choice."

Your breath fell hot when it left your tongue. These people, your family, your closest friends, suddenly taking control of your life for the sake of business. With no thought on how you would take it. Even now, despite your obvious distaste for the idea, they were pushing it. So it should have been expected when you faced the blonde man only to raise your hand, letting a slap fall firm against his cheek. 

You hated the sting on your palm as you faced Steve's huff as he settled in the pain. But maybe it was deserved. To have been used for years to do nothing but the small jobs, arranging staff, but never being at the forefront of the job. Suddenly, they were throwing you in the deep end. The worse of the worse: to marry Bucky Barnes. You left them with one thought, "I won't do it."

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Speaking of colleges what abt Simeon x graduating reader. She’s graduating from Yale law or smth and doesn’t have much support from her family bc of their outdated views on how women should be/ act like .So Simeon shows up to her graduation to support her? Sorry I just love fluff omg

Sorry this took so long, and this was written with moments of me being lucid, lol. I like how it turned out. Thank you for trusting me to bring this to fruition.

Pairing: Simon x Reader

Title: And you came? Just for me?

CW: None fluff

It had been a long time coming, four years plus the two year accelerated law school, and you're finally done. What should be a day filled with happiness settled in your bones as dread. Your family, while they sent you off to school, did ao with the idea that you would be getting your Mrs degree. So when you ended up with a bachelor's instead of an eligible bachelor, they were dismayed. They spent a good deal of money on your sorority dues, making sure you got into the right rooms and parties and charities with handsome young men. Your sister was able to do it, and she didn't even stay long enough to complete a two year degree. Which was great for her because it's what she wanted. She wanted to be a kept wife and mother, and you were happy for her.

The night before, your mother fussed and complained that the best parts of your twenties were wasted, and thirty was fast approaching. With a career in the way, how could you get married and have children? No man wants a career oriented wife or a woman who makes as much or more than him.

They would be distraught over your boyfriend and his background and his work. You met him during one of your internships. Your focus was on international law, and your professor had recommended you to work under his brother's law firm that dealt with government law and the wonderful world of war crimes. It was an operation that accidentally became public, and your mentor was assigned to work with some fancy task force to help clean up the various crimes they committed.

He was tall, broad, brooding, and had an air of danger about him. While everyone else had made themselves friendly and approachable, he was steadfast, not wanting to talk or be bothered. He made you angry at first. He broke treatises, caused mayhem, and for what, the good of the world? So when your mentor, tired as she was, tried to get him to recount his version of events, he didn't. You blew up at him and slammed your files onto the table. Shouting that the least he could do was pretend to care about true justice and doing right by the law and that he would be no better than the terrorists he fought if he couldn't answer to a judge and try to justify his actions.

Since that outburst, the brooding man, who told you to call him Simon, had been a constant in your life. He lived his life hard and fast, mission after mission, but always finding time for you and some how a relationship blossomed. It started off with coffee outside of his and his team's barely visible court case. Then, it turned into nights at a bar quietly chatting away in the darkness of the booth towards the back. Somehow, Simon ended up wriggling into your time and days even after the court case was closed, and he and his team acquitted (which almost didn't happen but your mentor either knew people or was just that good or it was a sham case to cover up something else).

Before you knew it, Simon had said "I love you" even though the timing was off. He was getting ready for a deployment. He'd be gone for a minimum of six months, and he wasn't sure about the success rate of him coming back in one piece. Still, he said those three words to you over the video call. His honey brown eyes looked at you as if you were the center of the world. He had said that he loved that you were smart, beautiful, and had a firey passion for bringing the dark to light, and that was what you had done to him. Each smile you gave him, each stolen kiss before he had to leave your side, all of it made him feel like he was standing in the sunlight. He even admitted that he was too scared to confess to you in person.

You didn't care because you loved him too. He was a constant presence in your life. Someone who wasn't a mentor that saw you for you. He wasn't your backward and complicated family that saw you for only bettering the family line. He made you feel like you were doing the right thing, following your dreams.

That was seven months ago. He warned you that he wouldn't be able to talk while he was gone. You hoped and prayed that he was surviving whatever trials he was in. Meanwhile, you were in the middle of graduating, doing your best to ignore the hurt that your family didn't come to see your achievement. There was nobody in the crowd to shout your name at the small ceremony. No flowers or anyone to take your picture.

The speaker had called your name, and to your surprise, you hear shouts and hollers. You look over into the family and friends seating section and see Simon and his team. There's him, Price, Kyle, and Johnny. Johnny has a poster board up that has your name with atrocious writing on it. All of them are still dressed in what you assume to be their field clothes without being fully kitted up. Simon had forgone his balaclava for a black medical mask, but he still had that imposing black eye paint around his eyes. All of them looked raggered and tired, but happy to see you walk across the stage.

After the closing ceremony, you book it towards Simon. You're not even sure how he's here! He's supposed to be in a gun fight somewhere. He said sorry on the last call for not being able to make it, already planning to make up missing this milestone.

His arms stetch out, and he catches you as you throw yourself into him.

"You came!?" You pressed yourself into him. He smelled like gunpowder, and whatever else he probably hastily freshened up with. You didn't care, he was here! "You really came Simon!"

He hushed you and moved his mask so he could press his lips to your head. "It was a tight margin, but I couldn't miss the love of my life's achievements."

Extra

They had just barely touched down on friendly soil before Simon was rushing everyone into the truck. Price had managed to get their flight redirected to the nearest airport close to his Bird's college. What was supposed to be an hour and a half drive was about to be done in 45 minutes because in two hours his girl would be walking the stage. With the way the mission went, you would have thought Simon was the captain leading it instead of Price.

(Price had joked that this would be the mission that makes Simon a Captain, and then he could retire and let his boys run loose in the world.)

"Si! Are ye even goin' tha speed limit!?" Johnny shouted as the truck swerved through traffic. He was holding on to the little grab bar by the window for life.

Kyle was doing his best to write a good message on the poster board. "We should have gotten a police escort!"

"Ghost we aren't gonna make that light!" Price shouted.

Simon took it as a challenge and pressed hard on the acceleration. The four of them flew through the yellow light just as it turned red.

"She's got nobody there to watch her cross that stage Cap." He was calm on the outside, but on the inside, he was sweating. He was gonna surprise his love, come hell or high-water.

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for qwertynerd97 behind the cut; "kidnapping your soulmate for fun and profit". (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Superboy grins at him again. Tim thinks he’s going to have to start just inventing new stages of grief, at this point. The current ones aren’t going to cover this situation. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just thought it might be a little harder to hang out together if you’re really never doing the civilian look,” he tries, and Superboy–stills, suddenly, and the grin vanishes all at once. Tim has a moment to be split between having an anxiety attack about having said the wrong thing or having an anxiety attack about the supervillain attack that’s about to land on his head when he still doesn’t have a mask, and then–

“You–what?” Superboy asks, looking startled. “I mean, uh–like–you wouldn’t get bored doin’ that?” 

“. . . hanging out with you?” Tim asks blankly. They’re soulmates. And also Superboy is quite possibly the literally least boring person he has ever met, douchey shades or not, and the list of “least boring” people in his life includes Bruce and Dick and more superheroes than he could shake his bo stick at. How is someone getting bored around him even a concern that would occur to Superboy? Like, literally ever? 

“No, I mean–” Superboy turns red, looking briefly embarrassed. “You wouldn’t have more fun hangin’ out with Superboy than just, uh–some guy?” 

It takes all of Tim’s Bat-training and gala-experience to not stare at him over that. That–what kind of question is that? 

“I mean, I’m just some guy,” he lies. “But I just meant it’d be way easier to hang out if we weren’t having to deal with people bugging you for selfies or autographs or whatever all the time, you know?” 

“I–uh, I guess,” Superboy says, still looking flustered. “Like–probably, I guess.” 

“Also I don’t want, like, a Gotham rogue randomly deciding you being in town is a good reason to start some shit,” Tim says wryly, because he definitely does not want that, in fact. “Feel like Batman wouldn’t like that very much.” 

“You believe in Batman, dude?” Superboy asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“You’re a half-alien clone and you think Batman’s hard to believe in?” Tim attempts to deflect with, because that was definitely a fuck-up on his part, and Superboy just laughs. 

“No, man, I just have literally never met a Gothamite who’d admit to believing Batman was a real dude,” he says. “I literally met Robin like a week ago and, like, pretty sure he was low-key trying to convince me he didn’t believe Batman existed.” 

It was not even a week, Tim thinks, mildly indignant for no good reason, then puts Dubious Civilian Expression #1 on his face and rolls his eyes. 

“Okay, Batman’s one thing, but no one actually thinks Robin’s real,” he snorts, and Superboy laughs again, sounding straight-up delighted about it. 

“No, he totally is!” he protests, grinning at him again too and linking his hands together behind his back as he leans towards him, which is incredibly, incredibly distracting for him. “Dude’s got the sick flips and everything and I totally saved his ass from Metallo. And, uh, then he totally saved my ass from Poison Ivy. Long story. Also he’s got a stick up his ass, like legit you would think that was where he kept that quarterstaff thing of his.” 

This is a dangerous topic, Tim recognizes while forcing down the instinct to reply it’s a bo staff, actually, they’re pretty different, and tries to figure out how to change the subject as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Robin talk is not a good idea right now, when there’s a risk of Superboy possibly noticing something about him, what with meeting Robin a reasonably fresh experience in his mind. 

Not that fresh, apparently, since he thinks it was “like a week” ago. But whatever. Not the point. Tim’s just annoyed by the inaccurate intel. 

. . . seriously. A week? 

“Batman or not, you apparently already have beef with Poison Ivy, so definitely I’d be worried about you being publicly in town without needing to pack a super-powered weed-whacker,” he says wryly instead of anything more damning or secret-identity-blowing. Superboy looks–weird, for a moment, leaning back a little bit to straighten back up. 

“You’d, like–actually be cool with me visiting you in Gotham? Like–that wouldn’t be annoying or whatever?” he asks, sounding just barely uncertain about it, and Tim again has to force himself not to stare at him. First: Superboy being any kind of uncertain whatsoever is the weirdest thing he’s ever seen, and second: they’re soulmates. People will spend a lot more time with their soulmates than occasionally visiting each other in different cities, especially five minutes after meeting them when they’re still trying to figure out who and what they are to each other. Again: Tim has investigated multiple missing persons cases that turned out to be “I found my soulmate” cases! Multiple! In Gotham, even! 

“Yes,” he says instead of any of that. “I would actually really like you to, in fact.” 

“Oh,” Superboy says, and turns red again. “I–uh–yeah, I guess that’d be cheaper than you needing to buy a plane ticket or run up your phone bill if you ever feel like shooting the shit or whatever, huh?” 

“I have unlimited minutes, actually,” Tim says, forcing down another stare. The staring would not help, at this moment. Or like–ever, probably. “And the plane ticket was only like a week’s allowance, plus my dad’s got a disgusting amount of frequent flyer miles saved up he never remembers to use anyway. I’ll buy you a plane ticket if you don’t feel like flying yourself.” 

“. . . uh,” Superboy says. Tim should stop talking, probably, but– 

“Also you’re my soulmate,” he says. “I could get, I dunno, an after-school job if I actually needed to cover anything like that. I just figured we could take turns flying over or something. I mean, if you decided to go to college in Gotham in a couple years or something I wouldn’t complain, obviously, just we’ve just met and that seems like a bit much to suggest first thing. Especially, uh, since you don’t actually have any transcripts, apparently. Um. Just, well, if you ever did want to be a civilian sometimes . . . like, eventually, I mean? Well, Gotham’d probably be a good place to hide a Super, right? Nobody’d expect to see you there, and it’s not like you can’t commute.” 

Superboy is staring at him now. Tim thinks maybe he said something wrong after all. Or maybe the lycra rando is about to jump him from behind. 

Fifty-fifty, given the way his life tends to go. 

“Um,” he says. “Like–no pressure or anything. I could also look into colleges out here, do you know if there’s any good programming–uh, programs around? Like just tech in general.” 

Superboy is still staring at him. 

. . . okay, at this point, it’s probably that Tim said something wrong, yeah.

[bootsukki]

hi hi hi, this was supposed to be a part of my aita series but i didn't think it would fit there but well, i'm still posting it! hope you like it :D

warnings: fem!reader x tsukishima, yamaguchi and hinata, mentions of alcohol, vomiting and hospital environment.

It wasn’t the kind of night Tsukishima Kei had ever imagined himself having—let alone enjoying. He didn't want a bachelor party, always saying how annoying they were and that they were nothing but a waste of money but of course, he couldn't say no to some drinks with his friends to celebrate his upcoming wedding in less than two months, and while he wasn't one to indulge in alcohol much, the constant toasts and teasing had loosened him up more than he had intended.

What started as a quiet evening quickly turned into a loud celebration, with everyone in high spirits—especially Tsukishima’s childhood best friend, Yamaguchi, and the always energetic Hinata.

Tsukishima, never one for being the center of attention, had let his guard down. The buzz from the alcohol he had been drinking during the night was more than he had anticipated and even though he tried to say “no” to the various drinks he was getting from other people congratulating him on his wedding, he kept drinking. Before he could even think about it, he was laughing louder than usual, joining in the banter with friends and accepting going for a round of karaoke.

In his tipsy state, as they were leaving the bar, he miscalculated his steps and stumbled off the curb. Awkwardly, he hit the ground face-first, a sharp pain shooting through his nose.

"Tsukki!" Yamaguchi cried, rushing over, his words slurred but full of concern.

Tsukishima groaned, pressing a hand to his face. When he pulled it away, he saw blood dripping from his nose and sighed, already irritated with himself. "Oh fuck, (Y/N) is going to kill me.”

Hinata froze at the sight of the blood, face palinn instantly and he stumbled back. “Oh shit, holy shit, blood.”

Before Yamaguchi could react, Hinata’s face turned green and doubled over, gagging.

Looking at Tsukishima and then turning to look at the orange-haired man, Yamaguchi started laughing, taking his phone out of his pocket amid the chaos of it all, dialing your number at nearly two in the morning.

When you arrived at the emergency room, it was complete chaos. Your soon-to-be husband was seated in a hospital bed, an ice pack pressed against his swollen and bloody nose. Yamaguchi was pacing around the room, looking both drunk and emotional whereas Hinata was gagging uncontrollably in the corner.

“Hinata!” You called, grabbing a nearby trash can and rushing over to his side, perfectly in time for him to lean over and throw up. He heaved, face twisted in discomfort, saying how sorry he was.

You smiled, patting his back gently before making your way towards Tsukishima but before you could reach him, Yamaguchi walked over to you, wiping his eyes as he bursted into tears.

“Thank you,” Yamaguchi said. “Thank you for taking care of Tsukki. He’s so in love with you and he… seeing him so happy makes me wanna cry!”

Yamaguchi throws his arms around you, hugging you tightly and crying loudly.

You smile, hugging him back. “It’s alright, Tadashi,” you said, patting his arm. “I love him too.”

"I know, but—" Yamaguchi sniffled, wiping at his eyes again. "He’s my best friend, and now he’s getting married, and I’m just... so happy for you guys." He leaned into you, his head resting against your shoulder as he mumbled his thanks again.

Hinata groaned from the trash can. "I’m sorry, (Y/N). I really didn’t mean to—"

"Shh, you’re fine, Hinata," you said with a chuckle. "Just focus on breathing, okay?"

You shake your head at the situation and try your best to make your way towards Tsukishima. Yamaguchi leaves you for a second and walks over to Hinata, talking to him as if the other man wasn’t focusing on keeping the last pieces of food on his stomach.

You walked over to Tsukishima, who was watching the whole thing unfold with a slightly glazed look in his eyes, still holding the ice pack to his nose.

"You look like a mom," he said, his voice muffled and slightly nasally.

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you ran your hands through his blond hair, kissing his forehead. “Well, someone has to take care of you all. I didn’t think I’d be spending my night with a group of 20-something-year-old men acting like a babysitter. Where are your other friends?"

Tsukishima snorted, though it came out as more of a cough, given the state of his nose. "They went home, I don't think 5 drunk and grown ass men entering the hospital wouldn't be a good look." He lowered the ice pack for a moment, his golden eyes catching yours, showing you his accident. You hiss, holding his face on your hands, looking at him with those gorgeous eyes of yours he loved so much. Despite the alcohol in his system, and despite the embarrassment of the situation, there was something warm in the way he looked at you.

Tsukishima couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky. His nose was throbbing, he was bleeding, and his best friends were sobbing and dry-heaving into a trash can—but you handled it all with such grace.

"Hey," Tsukishima called softly, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "I really... don’t deserve you.”

Your gaze softens and you smile. "Kei, stop. You’re going to make me cry too if you say romantic stuff.”

"I mean it," he muttered, his voice low. "I’m a mess, and you're here... taking care of all of us. And, I’m sorry about this. I knew we were having some pictures taken in a week.”

"Of course I am here," you replied. “I love you. Even when you fall on your face and you make us lose the money for the wedding pictures."

"How much was it?"

"Hm.... 150,000 yen." You answered, looking at him. "You'll need to pay me back with interests."

"I thought we had joint bank accounts, babe."

"That's right but you'll still need to pay me back for waking me up in the middle of the night. You'll find a way."

He huffed at that but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. Even in his current state, he knew how lucky he was to have you. He reached out, taking your hand in his, and gave it a gentle squeeze.

You leaned down, careful not to hurt him, and kissed the top of his head several times, giggling together, feeling as if there in the room it was just you alone. "We’ll deal with the nose, Kei. Don’t worry about anything else, not even about the photos or the money. Just focus on getting better and getting that nose fixed before our official wedding or I’ll be really mad.”

He watched you for a moment longer, a mix of admiration and affection swirling in his still-hazy eyes. As chaotic as the night had been, he knew one thing for sure—he was the luckiest man in the world.

[jeontasy]

Endless Summer (m)

pt.2 | Completed

word count: no idea still (im so sorry)

♡ : a little Caleb write so i can fulfill my own lil fantasies pt.2

setting: summer vacation + grandma isnt home + caleb realizes youve grown up + heavy smut + a very yearning caleb + on the couch + inappropriate use of his evol + dirty talking obv + no condom im sorry not sorry

perspective: caleb x afab reader

enjoy :)

edit: sorry for the wait!!! had to get off work before writing & i had no idea people would love the pt.1 so much im so amazed!!! i havent written anything in YEARS and its so amazing to receive so much feedback and love about my dumb 2am Caleb thirst post story. thank you all so much!!! hope u guys enjoy pt.2 as well ♡

p.s i have not written smut in so long and i most def did not proof read this pls forgive me

Part 1

gif credit: kiiseru 

Your back arches slightly due to Caleb's touch, his hand is slowly moving down the side of your hips and you can feel him tremble when he feels your bare skin below that shirt. The cicadas outside were getting louder and louder as the night was going by, and even though you knew Grandma wasn't home you were still afraid of being too loud. Caleb stops and looks back at you, his eyes were clouded with desire just threatening to overflow.

"Hey.." He whispered and cups your face with his hand, his gaze manages to calm you down almost immediately, as if it was magical. Your heart starts to slow down from the nervousness. "I can stop if you want-"

"No. No don't." You hurriedly grip onto his arms before he can finish his sentence, as if afraid he's going to disappear at any moment. Caleb chuckles and lets out a sigh of relief at your reaction and nuzzles his nose into your neck, his hot breath puffing on your skin sends gentle shocks down into you. You moan quietly at the sensation and clutches onto his arms a little harder, his hard muscles serving as a support pole as your body slowly weakens at his touches.

"I've missed you everyday while you were away." Caleb breathes out, he plants a kiss on your nose and then another on your lip, "I also missed you while I was up in Skyhaven.." then another planted on your chin and down your neck. "I wanted to see you everyday.." he said as he starts kissing you even lower. His soft lips grazing lightly over the perk of your breasts as he moved downwards, forcing a whimper out of you when you feel your nipples harden against the thin tshirt. "C-Caleb.." You couldn't believe the same man who you've been longing for was also thinking of you all this time.

"I missed you so much..especially when you sent that photo of you at the beach with your friends.." Caleb moans as he kept talking and you realize he's already kissing past your stomach, even with the piece of clothing between you and his lips you still can't escape the hot breaths that he lets out. You moaned at the sudden feeling of his long fingers nearing the underside of your tshirt, slowly making their way up under and onto your burning skin. "And when you were standing so close to that guy in the photo.." He words hissing through his teeth, suddenly gripping your breasts hard underneath your shirt, "..while wearing a barely covered and pretty white bikini.." Caleb groans at the thought of the picture in his head again, remembering how much it turned him on when he saw it on his phone. He had lost count of how many times he touched himself through the night to the sight of you in that skimpy bikini.

You let out a whiny moan when you feel his thumb swipe over the hard nub on your breast and twirls it in a circle as if he was playing with a controller. Caleb smirks at your reaction and squeezes your soft breasts a couple more times before he moves down further. He can smell your wetness even though your legs were closed shut, he growls and takes his hand out from under your shirt before swirling it in the air and prying you legs open using his Evol. You let out a surprised gasp at suddenly being exposed in front of him. "Caleb!"

"What?" He says, you can see the hunger dripping from his eyes and you're suddenly choked up on words. "I can't look at my princess's pretty little pussy?" He smirks at your flushed face to what he says and he leans back down to bury himself between your legs. Your eyes follow his every move carefully and you let out a loud moan when he starts rubbing his nose against your clit through your panties. "A-ah! Caleb!" you suddenly can't control your voice and it gets even louder when he groans against your wetness, sending a deep rumble through you.

"I can make you feel so good, princess.." He whispers and you feel him push aside your panties before taking a rough lick from the bottom to the top. Your stickiness clung onto his tongue as he swallows it down, already hungry for more. Your back arches as Caleb starts licking away at your pussy, the way he was eating you out was like he hasn't had anything to eat or drink for days. His tongue laps up all your wetness before going back for your clit, swirling his wet tongue around it before giving it a gentle suck. The feeling sends waves of immense pleasure through you and you aren't able to control the moans that escape your lips, which turns Caleb on even more than he already was.

"D-don't..don't stop please...u-ugh..!" You whimper again as he buries his face deeper, his tongue probing into you while his nose nudges against your clit. "You taste so good.." you can barely hear him through the mumbling, he laps up the remaining juices and gets back up, looking directly into your eyes before pulling you in for a hungry kiss. Your tongues overlap each others in a hurry as you taste each other, you feel him reaching down to quickly untie the strings of his shorts before he suddenly stops kissing you. You let out an involuntary noise of discontent at the missing sensation of his lips, and you wrap your legs around his waist as a way to pull him in closer.

"M-more..more.." You moan softly and cups Caleb's face in for another kiss, emitting a low moan from his mouth. "I want more.." you whisper. Caleb inhales sharply and quickly drags his shorts and underwear down, exposing his cock proudly standing. You gasp when you feel the hardness graze you against your inner thigh and look into his eyes, he was already looking at you with a gentle gaze and you swear his lavender eyes were shining so brightly they looked like stars.

"Are you sure?" Caleb whispers, asking for confirmation one more time. He knew that if he did this there was no stepping back from it. He was going to crave you all the time, even more. He was going to need your touches to get through the day. He was going to need your tight pussy more and more. You breathe heavily at the question and you pull him down again for another wet kiss, giving him your answer.

Caleb positions himself hastily and pushes your soaking panties to the side again before rubbing his tip against your clit. He whimpers at the feeling, unable to control the bits of sticky pre-cum that leaks out. "I can't wait to fuck you." He whispers and slowly inserts himself into you. Both your moans echo through the empty room as he fills you up, his hard cock going deep into you until it can't anymore. He lets out a satisfied breath and holds you in his arms tightly, unwilling to move an inch.

"You have..no idea..how long I've wanted you."

You blush at his words, burying your face into his chest out of embarrassment until he suddenly jerks a hard thrust into you, making you yelp. "Don't hide from me." He whispers and holds your chin up so you can't avoid his gaze. "Let me see your face when I fuck you." You tremble at his words before he thrusts into you again, slowly finding his rhythm. You look at him with your hooded eyes as he lifts up that thin tshirt, exposing your entire body to him. He moan at the sight before grabbing a hold of your thighs and continue to thrust into you hard.

"Ungh..yes..yes..f-fuck!" You let out a string of curses as he picks up his pace, spreading your legs wider as he fucked into you. He licks his thumb before moving it down to rub your throbbing clit, sending jolts of pleasure down your body. "A-ah! Yes Caleb!" You moan out his name loudly as he continued to tease your hard clit, his wet and slippery finger drawing out quick circles on the little nub.

"Yeah? Does that feel good?" He chuckles at the way your body was curling up to the pleasure, taking in every inch of your bare body with his hungry eyes. The way your breasts bounced to every thrust was enough to drive him over the edge. "Can anyone else make you feel this good? Hmm?" He thrusts into you again and lets out a raspy moan, unable to control himself. "Fuck, you're so tight." Caleb says before pushing your legs apart further and fucks you harder. He takes both your hands and pins them above your head, hovering above you as he thrusts deeper. Every move he puts into your body sends you shifting against the rough material of the couch and the both of you are sweating so much that it makes your skin cling onto each other even more.

"I-I can't hold it.." Caleb whimpers at a loss and stares into your eyes, there was a mixture of tears, sweat and spit between the both of you and you cry out as his pace picks up even more. "Y-yes! Caleb..!"

"I can't..I'm going to cum..a-ah!" Caleb gasps at your words and he puts in one final thrust before you the both of you shatter into a quaking orgasm. You tighten hard around him as your walls tremble with your own release and you can feel his thick cum shooting up inside you with every pump.

"A-ah..it feels so good.." He whimpers at the feeling of release and he stays buried inside you for a good minute before slowly pulling out, whining at the loss of your wet warmth. He takes a few deep breaths and holds you in his arms, gently moving strands of your hair away from your blushing face, laughing at the sight of your disheveled mess.

"You know..Summer vacation doesn't end for another two months.." He whispers and plants a kiss on your sweaty forehead, "which means.." You cover his mouth with your hand before he can say anything else, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“The sundae’s all melted. Make me another.” You glare at him and he laughs heartily before taking a hold of your hand and kisses your palm. His dreamy lavender eyes flashing at you.

"Anything for you my princess."

-♡- END -♡-

wahhhh thank u all for reading! :D all my love ♡

[kiame-sama]

Pregnancy Announcements Pt 2

Pt 1:

Continuation with Kailm, Jamil, Cater, Trey, Riddle, Leona, Ruggie, Jack, Epel,

Warnings: Yandere, yandere behavior, yandere relationship, pregnancy warning, afab reader (though I will keep pronouns they/them), large mention of poly relationships with the fellas (many mention poly relationships), by selecting 'view more' you consent to view content and are of age to view content, some have oviposition based on the species, mainly ficlets, any appearances made by Grim is solely platonic, some graceful responses, some not so graceful responses, all positive responses, mostly fluff minus some teasing and confusion, not all take place at the same time, various 'relationship routes', mostly poly relationships, various poly group dynamics

Note: the ages next to their names are their ages in the current time in the HAE, not the ages they become fathers

Golden Sands

Kalim Al-Asim (45)

"(Y/n), my golden sand flower, where are you?"

Kalim called as he returned from a quick flight on his carpet. Sure, he could have easily taken one of the many cars available to him, but there was something special about taking the carpet that he just couldn't replace. It was natural for his large home to be bustling with activity, but this was far more than usual and it threw Kalim off guard.

Of course, when he didn't immediately see his soft little Human mate or Jamil coming to greet him he was on guard. Usually one or the other would greet him and scold him for his daring stunts with the carpet or for running off without anyone to keep an eye on him. The fact that none of the staff even gave him a secondary look had him making a quick beeline for his beloved's room, not liking how everyone seemed to be in a buzz over something.

As he entered the large chamber, he couldn't help but call out in relief when he saw the soft Human laying back atop the scales of the Naga. Said Naga was massaging their shoulders as they leaned back into the Naga's touch. The way the Human lay- with Jamil's coils gently wound around their soft stomach- interested Kalim enough to make him pause for a moment.

As unaware as the Genie is of things around him, he could actually pay attention and notice when there was something different, and there was certainly something different.

"Kalim," Jamil's prompting tone snapped the Genie out of his stupor, "come here, (Y/n) has news for you."

Kalim was quick to join the Human and the Naga, climbing into the nest of coils and pillows, not noticing the way the Naga glared at him angrily any time the Genie stepped on his coils. Kalim was quick to cuddle into his beloved (Y/n)'s side, smiling up at them and chuckling as they ruffled his white hair.

"Kalim, you know how we have been talking about the Al-Asim family and how you need an heir?"

"Yeah! My baba says I need to 'put down roots and start a family with that exotic Human'! He has been on my back about having a child since I started at NRC."

"Well, I guess he can leave you alone about it now."

"Oh? Why's that?"

Jamil sighed loudly and shook his head at the forgetful and idiot Genie that the Human had somehow also fallen in love with. If only he could have split (Y/n) from that smiling fool and kept them for himself, but there was no turning back time now. Apparently some people found the lack of braincells attractive.

"... Because I'm pregnant."

"Oh, (Y/n) that sounds great! I-"

The golden Genie paused for a moment, his red eyes wide in surprise as the words actually clicked in his brain. He stared at the Human's warm stomach again and slowly reached out a hand, lowering himself down to their stomach.

"I'm gonna be a father... I'M GONNA BE A DAD! JAMIL, I'M GONNA BE A-!"

"STOP YELLING! We are both right here, you don't need to yell!"

Jamil's scolding fell on deaf ears as the Genie was bouncing around excitedly and not listening to what the Naga was saying. He was too busy leaping around and cheering loudly for all to hear. There was no question that Kalim was overjoyed.

~~~~

Jamil Viper (36)

"Hey, Jamil, can I talk to you really quickly?"

The Naga smiled gently as he glanced up at the soft Human standing in the doorway. He had been preparing dinner for his beloved mate and the idiot he had no choice but to keep around. Still, he always had time for his beloved, even if he didn't have time for the Genie that hovered around him obnoxiously.

"Of course, my precious Boa, what do you need?"

He was quick to wind his tail under the soft Human, propping them up and making a kind of chair out of his coils for them. They smiled and rubbed their cheek against his smooth scales, only making him smile in return. If only he didn't need to share with that foolish Genie, but (Y/n) was worth it to him.

"I have exciting news for you, and something that might make you angry."

"Did Kalim take you flying on the magic carpet again, despite me telling him how dangerous it is if you fall?'

"... Maybe."

"He-!"

"Before you get mad, here's something that will make you happy."

Jamil crossed his arms, still frowning in frustration but willing to wait and listen to what his beloved needed to say. They gently picked up one of his hands and rest it over their stomach, noticing how Jamil used his secondary eye-lid to blink instead of his typical eye-lids.

"The Doctors confirmed it, I have six healthy eggs forming their shells!"

This actually made Jamil's expression change, a genuine smile taking over his surprised expression as he hummed happily, his tongue flicking out as he raised their soft body towards him. He could detect the faint change in their hormones and he couldn't help but feel a quick shot of pride in his chest, knowing that the eggs were absolutely his. Thanks to being half-human, his young would never need to know the pain of being in service to another. He may not be free of his shackles to Kalim, but his children would be free of the Al-Asim.

"Have you told Kalim yet?"

"No. I wanted you to be the first to know."

"With our young we can... wait. Does that mean Kalim took you flying on the carpet while you are pregnant!?"

~~~~

Wild Cards

Cater Diamond (23)

"This is the third day in a row..."

Cater frowned as he held back the messy tresses of his Human lover. The morning seemed just fine and seemed to be any normal morning, but a sudden bout of sickness had him holding back the hair of his beloved while they whimpered from the force of their sudden illness. Trey was cooking and had tried to give (Y/n) a break after their sudden sickness the prior two mornings.

"Hey, Cater?"

"Yes, my darling?"

"Can you keep a secret from Trey and Riddle for me?"

"... Depends on the secret. You know how Riddle will act if he thinks he was denied need to know information."

The Human sighed, getting up to grab their toothbrush and scrub out their mouth. Cater didn't blame them. Sickness was no fun, especially whatever kind of sickness this was.

"You know how Trey and I went shopping two days ago?"

"Yeah, you had that doctor's appointment and Trey wanted to get some things for the Bakery."

"Well, the doctors told me something interesting during that visit. Apparently I have several interesting gel-like beads in me. They're steadily expanding and seem to react well to water."

This stunned Cater as he almost dropped his phone, his wide eyes reflected in the screen in front of him as he glanced up. Had he heard them properly? Because that sounded an awful lot like Water Nymph Cores.

"How many?"

"The doctor counted at least four, maybe more."

"We... we're gonna have our own Nymphs?"

"Looks like."

Cater was overjoyed, feeling so blessed for his mate and for the potential of little Nymphs of his own. To think, even screw-up Cater Diamond could make Diamonds of his own to love and cherish.

"I can't keep this a secret because I have to annoy the hell out of Riddle for this, you know that, right?"

"Why?"

"Because he swore up and down that you would have his foal before Trey's foal or my cores."

"Tell me you three didn't make a bet-"

~~~~

Trey Clover (25)

"Are you feeling any better, love?"

Trey asked gently, glancing back to his back where his Human lover sat, letting the Kelpie carry them back home. They had suddenly gotten faint while they were out shopping at the market and Trey was quick to take his love into the shade. Of course he was happy to wait for them to feel a bit better before he started back for home.

Naturally, Riddle was demanding Trey bring them home immediately the moment he was informed they weren't feeling well, the Unicorn high strung as ever over every little problem. No worry was too much as far as his mate was concerned. Trey agreed with Riddle on that, but he also knew that Riddle tended to make others more stressed, not calm, so he wanted to give them a moment before taking them home to the Unicorn.

"Trey, If I tell you something, will you promise me you won't freak out?"

"... Yes."

It was a boldfaced lie and Trey knew it. He figured there was something on his beloved's mind but didn't want to press the issue despite his own concern. He figured his darling (Y/n) would let him know if there was something bothering them. If it was something big, he couldn't promise he wasn't going to be emotional about it, but he would try to keep himself contained for the sake of his beloved.

"That check up I had the other day... It confirmed I'm pregnant, and judging by the lack of a horn on the embryo, I would wage the foal is yours."

"My-"

Trey cut himself off, looking surprised and elated all at once. Naturally, Trey wanted a good sized family, and he was sure to get that with Cater and Riddle also working on getting their young into the soft Human they shared. Still, he would be lying if it didn't fill him with immense pride to know that he had managed to get a foal into (Y/n) well before Riddle.

"This is wonderful news my love, but you should have told me earlier. I wouldn't have pushed you so hard to come shopping with me, or I would have at least carried you on my back more."

"Where's the fun in that?"

(Y/n) shot back playfully, smiling at the happy Kelpie and leaning forward to give him a gentle kiss. He was quick to return the affectionate act and was excited to gloat tell Riddle about it when the two returned to their home.

"Think we can have a few more before you have Riddle's?"

~~~~

Riddle Rosehearts (46)

"Riddle?"

"One moment, love. I have to figure out what this prescription says..."

The Unicorn stood in the kitchen, frowning at the papers in his hand. Of course, (Y/n)'s doctor decided that they were going to hand-write instructions and the penmanship was almost completely illegible. Riddle was besides himself with frustration because it made his daily task of getting his beloved's medication ready nigh impossible. How was he supposed to give the proper dosage if he couldn't tell the difference between an 'E' and a '3' due to the poor writing quality?

"Riddle, it actually somewhat has to do with that medication."

"It's just no use! I would think they would print this on the label and not trust some fool who can't even hold a pen properly to write it out!"

"RIDDLE!"

The Unicorn squealed slightly in surprise, his weight shifting to his back legs as he reared up from the sudden shout. The Human wasn't exactly pleased to raise their voice at the Unicorn, but it did get his attention and make him look over at them instead of the bottle in his hands. Riddle had been prone to startling easily- especially after the complications they had with Trey's Foal- so he was more than a little frazzled with loud noises.

"Riddle, that medication is not for those who are pregnant or nursing. I can't take it anyway."

"(Y/n), the medication is to help you with-"

Riddle cut himself off, tilting his head slightly as his brows furrowed in confusion. Had he heard that properly?

"Wait. 'Pregnant or Nursing'? But I thought they were already weaned a year back-"

"Yes. I am currently pregnant again, Riddle. Why do you think I had Trey take me to the doctor's office yesterday?"

"Is... is it Trey or Cater's again?"

"For the love of- No, you absolute pain in the ass Unicorn. The ultrasound showed the clear blunt horn already formed on the embryo. It's your foal."

This made a sudden and drastic change overcome Riddle as he began smiling excitedly and trotted over, pulling his beloved up and into his arms. Finally! Finally it was Riddle's turn to be a proud father!

Sure, he had been so proud of the several healthy Water Nymphs and twin Kelpie Foals his darling (Y/n) had brought into the world in the past, but to hear it was his young they were now carrying was more gratifying than anything that could have been said to the Unicorn. Now he was gently nickering and resting the side of his horn against their head in an affectionate gesture.

"They'll be beautiful and smart, just like us."

"Of course they will be. I just have to get through this pregnancy first!"

This made the smile quickly fade from Riddle's face as he now realized that- as the father of this foal- the responsibility of caretaking and ensuring all doctors appointments were booked in advance fell on his shoulders.

"Don't worry, (Y/n)! I'll take care of everything for you!"

~~~~

The Pride's Pack

Leona Kingscholar (36)

"Oi, Mousey, where did you disappear to?"

The Nemean Lion asked with a clear frown, not keen to be kept out of the loop when it came to his favorite little squeaky toy. Naturally, anything that involved his Mousey was his business, especially when not even Ruggie or Jack knew where the Human had wandered off to. Despite the wild difference in the personalities of the three beast-men, the group was well paired enough that they weren't in constant conflict.

"Your mother took me to see the Kingdom doctor to check up on why I have been so queasy and sore recently. Luckily the doc knew what was wrong and we have a plan set up for the next few months."

"Next few months? Mousey, what the hell is making you so sick you are going to be unwell for months?"

"Oh, I don't know, try two cubs?"

"What are you talking about, the only cub we have is Grim-"

Leona went silent for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he raised a brow at his soft mate suspiciously with his head cocked to one side. Slowly his ears angled back and his tail began to lash as those green eyes continued to stare, locked onto his beloved Human's form. He had quickly figured out what his dearest Mousey was talking about and had to now decide how to respond.

He figured it was going to happen eventually and he wasn't exactly displeased with being the first out of the three mates to actually manage to have cubs with the Human. He already looked after the rather large Hellcat as his own, no reason he couldn't be a good father to his own cubs. There was no possible way his cubs would be half as annoying as Cheka.

"About damn time."

"What?"

"I figured you were going to accept our seed eventually, and I wanted the first to be me. You're mine first and foremost, I only share with that leech Ruggie and Puppers Jack because you asked me to. Good way to show I am the dominant mate out of the group."

"I'm genuinely surprised you want cubs."

"You kidding me? More than half the Kingdom adores you and all of the females have already decided they will follow you if you leave, cubs only makes them like you more. Not too interested in Falena's title, not while I have everything I could possibly want right here. But I don't see why I can't plan for it."

"Leona!"

~~~~

Ruggie Bucchi (21)

"You sure you're feeling alright?"

The Gnoll whined gently, lowering his head somewhat to press against the Human's shoulder as he worried over them. Ruggie had the right to be concerned, always the one nearby any time fatigue or sudden odd cravings overtook his darling mate. Seeing as the symptoms had yet to abate even after several weeks and a trip to the Kingdom doctor, he was worried.

"I'm sure Ruggie. Odds are I will continue to feel like this for a bit longer yet. But I have news to share with you, and I need you to relay it back to Grammy Bucchi for me or she will be cross with us both."

"What is it?"

"Ruggie, you know how I got really sick like this before?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember why I was getting sick?"

"You were pregnant with Leona's cubs- don't tell me you're having another litter of his!"

The Human laughed gently at this, taking the concerned Gnoll's clawed paw in hand and smiling at him. The warmth of their hands on his paws was soothing and he slowly began rubbing his elongated muzzle against the soft flesh to calm himself. The cubs were already a bit of a nightmare with how much they were like Leona despite barely stringing together a few words and he could not handle another batch.

"No, they're not Leona's. I doubt he would want more cubs with those two. He's so smitten and proud of them already it is ridiculous. No, these ones had a more... unique profile. The doctors are certain from their voracious appetites that they are Gnoll Cubs."

"Wait," Ruggie's body had gone stiff as he cocked his head to one side, "you're telling me... that I'm gonna have Cubs? You're not joking, right? We're really gonna have cubs?"

Before the Human could respond beyond a quick nod, the Gnoll was cackling loudly and leaping in place. He was clearly excited to have his own cubs and apprentices in all ways to make money. Not only that, but Grammy should be thrilled to hear of the next younglings to be brought into the Cackle. Who knows, Perhaps one of these cubs will be a female and will be next to lead the Cackle.

~~~~

Jack Howl (18)

"I swear, it was the same smell as before with Leona and Ruggie's!"

Jack continued to insist, swearing up and down that the Human's scent had changed in a way he could somehow detect. Naturally, this meant both the Werewolf and the Human were sitting waiting for the final determination from the Kingdom Doctor. She was quite amused and was willing to entertain Jack's concerned insistence that the Human gets checked over due to this new scent.

"Well, I have to say, the Werewolf is right."

The warm voice of the patient doctor drew the attention of the two waiting. Naturally, the news that he was correct made Jack's tail begin to wag in a mix of pride and relief. Jack had been adamant that he was correct, and that almost overshadowed the realization that soon dawned on his mind.

"Wait, so if I'm right... who is the other parent of this round?"

"Would you like to see?"

The doctor turned the screen of the ultrasound around so both Werewolf and Human could see the tiny heartbeats on the screen. Though it was somewhat difficult to see, there were indeed several little heartbeats as the doctor moved the ultrasound wand around to examine the growing young.

"Yes, based off of their tails and the shapes of their muzzles, I would say these are healthy Werewolf Pups. Congratulations the both of you."

Jack's tail could be heard long before the doctor stopped speaking, his tail slamming against the chair. It was easy to tell how the Werewolf felt about the matter as he almost began to wriggle and wiggle with excitement. Soft whines escaped the Werewolf as he tried and failed to contain his emotions, his ears laying back as his body began to wiggle as well.

"Pups..! Pups..! Pups!"

"Something tells me you may need to take him out to run for a little bit," the doctor chuckled softly as she smiled at the wriggling Wolf, "he may have to howl about it if you don't get him out fast enough."

The Human chuckled in response, nodding as the gel was cleaned off of their soft stomach, getting up with the excited Werewolf bouncing in place next to them.

"Okay, Jack. Let's get you outside so you can have zoomies."

"Pups! Pups! Pups!"

~~~~

Fruit Bearers

Epel Felmier (23)

"(Y/n)! (Y/n), where in tarnation have ya ran off to?"

Epel frowned as he searched the orchards, idly pausing to check in on the apples that were just beginning to reach maturity. He was a skilled apple harvester at heart despite his slight worry for the Human he held near and dear to his heart. To think, little Epel was the one to win the Human all for himself.

"Over here!"

"Goodness, ya darn near gave me a heart attack, ah don't want to hear any excuses-"

"Epel, calm down. Where on earth could I wander off too? We're in the heart of an orchard."

"Ah'm just sayin', ya can't wander off. It doesn't matter that we're hidden away in ah town on the outskirts, we both know those darn poachers are relentless."

"I know."

Epel sat down next to the soft Human he adored, resting his head on their shoulder as his flowers gently rubbed against their cheek. the soft petals tickling the skin of the Human ever so gently.

"So, why did ya want us out here again? Ah thought ya weren't feeling well?"

"Well, You know Granny and I had to go visit the doc in town a few days ago after that terrible stomach ache of mine. I doubt you'll be surprised to know they found some stubborn seeds taking up residence. From what I'm told, they should be ready to come out soon enough, though I don't know if winter is the best time to plant them..."

"Nah, gotta wait till spring ta- wait. Seeds? We- We have seeds?"

"Yes, Epel, we do! Though it is a bit of time for us to wait until spring, are you sure they'll be okay until then?"

"Nah, we're planting them in ah greenhouse, even if ah got ta make it myself! Ain't no way Ah'm waiting until spring for this!"

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 19 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

୨୧┇paring: Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇sibling angst woo, written before the Ithaca saga

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Waiting…

That’s all she did anymore. She sat on the shoreline, the setting sun leaving only vibrant shades of red and yellow in the sky. The sand beneath her fingers as she raked them through the sand. This had become her routine. She would wistfully stare out, at the darkening sea, listening to the waves crashing. The girl vowed to herself that when Telemachus returned home, they would go to the beach. Dance in the waves and lay in the sun for hours until their skin was burnt and red. Laugh until their ribs ached and tears formed in their eyes. Feeling the sand against her back as they kissed and she would taste the salt on his lips.

Gods how she missed him.

She could barely sleep. He consumed her every thought. Every night, she would restlessly toss and turn, unable to feel comfortable without Telemachus’s arms around her. When she did manage to fall asleep, it wasn’t for long. She would drowsily get out of bed and reach for the trapdoor to reach his room. The girl often remembered that he wasn’t there, but she would crawl through anyways. Cobwebs didn’t exist in the passage anymore. Y/N would creep in as if she would wake up a sleeping Telemachus.

She would quietly slip into his bed, wrapping herself in his sheets. She would bury her face in his pillow and breath in the sea salt smell Telemachus had left behind. The only thing she was missing was him. The warmth of his body as he would lay beside her. It worked enough for the girl to slowly slip into a light sleep.

The girl laid back on the sand, feeling it mix in with her hair. She closed her eyes, smelling the breeze as it waltzed around her. All she could do was remember his sweet nothings and wait for the love of her life to return.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Y/n sat by the window in one of Penelope’s chambers, her bruises slowly fading but her spirit still fragile. The past week had been quiet—Penelope had kept her close, ensuring she was fed and rested, far from the prying eyes and cruel words of the suitors. It was the longest she had gone without seeing her brother, and though she hated to admit it, part of her was relieved.

Antinous, however, was not.

He stormed into the corridor outside the chambers, his expression dark and his footsteps heavy. He had spent the week stewing in his anger and guilt, the image of his sister’s tearful face haunting him at every turn. He needed to see her, to talk to her, to fix whatever had shattered between them. Penelope stepped out of the chamber just as Antinous approached. Her calm demeanor only seemed to stoke his frustration.

“I need to see my sister,” he demanded, his voice sharp and impatient.

Penelope raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by his tone. “Y/N is resting.”

“I don’t care if she’s resting!” he snapped, stepping closer. “She’s my sister. I have every right to speak with her.”

Penelope’s expression hardened, and she folded her arms. “Your sister has been through enough, Antinous. I won’t let you storm in there and upset her further.”

Antinous clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “Upset her? I’m trying to apologize!”

“Are you?” Penelope’s tone was cool, her gaze piercing. “Or are you trying to ease your own guilt?”

Antinous flinched, her words striking a nerve. “You don’t know anything about us,” he growled.

“I know enough,” Penelope replied firmly. “I know that your sister came to me bruised and broken because the people who should have protected her turned their backs on her.” Antinous’s face darkened, his guilt morphing into defensiveness. “I didn’t—”

“You let her down,” Penelope interrupted, her voice unwavering. “And until she’s ready to forgive you, you’ll keep your distance.” Antinous glared at her, his frustration boiling over. “You think you can keep her from me forever?”

“I’ll keep her from you as long as I need to,” Penelope said, her tone icy. “Y/N deserves to heal, and I won’t let you disrupt that.” Antinous took a step back, his hands trembling with barely restrained anger. “You have no idea what you’re meddling in, Penelope,” he hissed.

“I’m protecting her,” Penelope said simply. Antinous opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. He turned on his heel and stormed down the corridor, his heart pounding with a mix of anger and despair. As he disappeared around the corner, Penelope sighed and stepped back into the room. Y/N looked up from her seat by the window, her expression a mixture of confusion and worry.

“Was that…” she began, her voice hesitant.

“Your brother,” Penelope confirmed, sitting beside her. “He wanted to talk to you, but I told him it wasn’t the right time.” Her shoulders sagged, a flicker of guilt crossing her face. “Maybe I should have—”

“No,” Penelope said gently but firmly. “You’re not ready. And until you are, you don’t owe him—or anyone—your time or forgiveness.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze drifting back to the window. She wasn’t sure when, or if, she’d be ready to face her brother again. For now, she was grateful for the space to breathe, to heal, to find herself again.

——

The second week passed with a heavy air of tension hanging over the palace. Y/N had avoided the banquet halls and other common areas the suitors would be in, choosing quieter corners where she could go unnoticed. Her bruises had faded almost entirely, but the weight in her chest hadn’t lifted. As she walked down one of the dimly lit corridors late in the afternoon, her steps were slow, her thoughts scattered. She traced her fingers along the cold stone walls, trying to keep herself grounded.

“Y/N.”

The voice made her freeze. She turned slowly and saw Antinous standing at the other end of the hall, his expression unreadable. His arms were crossed, but there was a flicker of hesitation in his stance. Her first instinct was to turn and walk the other way, but her feet remained rooted in place. “What do you want?” she asked, her voice quiet but steady.

Antinous stepped closer, his gaze locked on hers. “We need to talk.”

She stiffened. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

“There’s plenty to say,” Antinous countered, his voice tinged with frustration. “You’ve been avoiding me for two weeks. I—” He paused, the words caught in his throat. “I’m your brother, Y/N. You can’t just shut me out.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms defensively. “Isn’t that what you did to me? Ignored me when I needed you most? Turned your back on me when they—when they—” Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked away, trying to hold back tears.

Antinous sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I know I messed up, alright? I’ve been thinking about it every day since then. I let my anger blind me, and I didn’t protect you. That’s on me.” She glanced at him, her brows furrowing. “So, what? You think saying sorry will fix everything?”

“No,” Antinous admitted, his tone softer now. “But it’s a start.” There was a long silence between them, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words. Her lip quivered, but she held her ground. “Why now, Antinous? Why not two weeks ago? Or before everything fell apart?”

“Because I was a coward,” he said bluntly, his voice low. “I was angry—at you, at myself, at everything. And I let that frustration take over.”

Her walls began to crack, her arms falling to her sides. “You…you really hurt me, Antinous.” His face twisted in guilt, and he took another step closer. “I know. And I’m sorry, N/N. I swear to you, I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if that’s what it takes.”

For the first time in weeks, she saw something in her brother’s eyes that reminded her of the boy who had once taken beatings for her, who had kept her warm when their mother cast her out into the cold. It wasn’t enough to erase the pain, but it was enough to make her pause.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you yet,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not asking for that right now,” Antinous replied, his voice steady. “I just… I just want my baby sister back.” Her lips trembled as she fought back tears. She wanted to believe him, wanted to trust him again. But the wounds were still fresh. “We’ll see,” she said, her voice wavering.

Antinous nodded, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “That’s all I can ask for.”

He turned to leave but hesitated. “Forgive me.”

She had barely collected herself when Penelope appeared at the end of the hallway. The queen’s eyes darted between her and Antinous, her expression darkening.

“Antinous,” Penelope called sharply, her voice commanding as she approached with quick, deliberate steps. “What are you doing here? You don’t get to just ambush her like this without warning.” Antinous turned to face Penelope fully, his body tense. “Ambush?” he repeated, his voice low but laced with annoyance. “This is my sister. I don’t need your permission to talk to her.”

Penelope stepped closer, her tone unwavering. “You don’t get to upset her any more than you already have. If you want to speak with her, you do it on her terms, not yours.” Antinous’s jaw clenched as his eyes narrowed. He held her gaze, and for a moment, the tension in the air became almost suffocating. Then, his expression shifted, dark and dangerous, his lips curling into a bitter smirk.

“With all due respect, your highness,” he said, his tone mocking, “I don’t take orders from you.” He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a low growl. “And if you think you can stand between me and my sister, you’re sorely mistaken. It’s you against one hundred eight suitors, you don’t wanna risk that.”

Penelope’s breath hitched at the intensity of his glare, her usual calm demeanor faltering for just a second. She opened her mouth to respond, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she stepped back instinctively, her hands tightening into fists. Antinous straightened, the tension in his shoulders relaxing just enough to show he was satisfied with her silence. “Good,” he said simply, his tone cold.

He glanced at His sister briefly, his expression softening just slightly, before turning on his heel and walking away without another word. Penelope stood there for a moment, her face a mixture of anger and unease. When she finally turned to y/n, her tone was clipped. “Are you alright?”

She nodded slowly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine.” But as she watched her brother disappear down the hall, she couldn’t shake the unease that lingered in the air between them all.

@procrastination20 @blessedbyahuntress @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy @0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl @xo-cuteplosion-xo

[e-vay]

SONIC 3 REVIEW

I wanted to wait a few weeks to give many people the chance to see Sonic 3 before I wrote a review, but of course I'll keep it under the cut for those who still haven't seen it.

DISCLAIMERS!

I acknowledge that the Sonic Cinematic Universe is a SEPARATE interpretation of the Sonic franchise so I will never dock it points for doing things different than we've seen in the games. These movies are inspired by the Sonic the Hedgehog video games, they are not direct adaptations. I have no sympathy for anyone who complains these movies get things 'wrong' about the games.

I acknowledge that the Sonic movies are family films marketed towards children, so some of the writing and plot devices are simplified or toned down for younger audiences. However, that won't stop me from pointing out some plot holes.

My review is just my opinion. I'm not saying I'm right or that you're wrong if you disagree.

I'm so damn excited to finally talk about it and I have SO MUCH to say, so buckle up!

TL;DR: I give Sonic 3 a score of 9/10, just barely shy of being an absolutely perfect movie! There were some editing choices and some plot holes that made me dock minor points. These nitpicks are small and almost insignificant compared to the whole of the film, but they stood out enough to bother me and they're why I can't give it a perfect rating.

Let's start with the positives.

CAST & CHARACTERS - 10/10

TL;DR - With a star-studded cast, it's almost impossible to say any one actor/character outshined the others. Every single person was on their A-game for this movie and gave emotional, hilarious, all-out performances.

Jim Carrey as both Ivo and Gerald Robotnik is genius! He plays both characters so differently that you could almost believe they were being played by two different people -- minus the tongue-in-cheek way the movie reminds you that they're the same person.

This iteration of Gerald is unlike any we've seen before, which kept me on my toes the entire time I was watching. He comes onto the scene fully claiming that he's a villain, but still he manages to suckerpunch you (and Ivo) with the final reveal of his ultimate plan. You would think that the same old man who was just doing a choreographed dance performance 20 minutes ago couldn't tear your heart out without even the use of words when we see him mourning the loss of his granddaughter, and then fill you with spine-chilling terror as he uses his whole chest to exclaim he's going to 'burn it all down!', but damn did Jim Carrey do that and more! This movie (and Jim Carrey alike) managed to make Gerald both the major comic relief of the movie AND simultaneously made him one of the most despicable villains in the franchise so far. His utter lack of compassion for Shadow or Ivo, using both of them as his puppets, really shows you how little this man values even those who are supposed to be closest to him. I encourage you to rewatch the movie and really appreciate the dynamic range we were given of this character in under a 2 hour window.

Ivo is back and better than ever, baby (despite what Tails says)! Though I liked the initial, unexpected take on his character in Sonic 1, it has been beyond satisfying to see the evil doctor's descent into madness, all culminating into THE Eggman we recognize from the games! Seeing him in the iconic Eggman suit was like seeing my baby in her gown for prom. I was one proud mama! Sonic 3 sends Ivo on an emotional rollercoaster and we not only get to see him the silliest he's ever been, but your heart truly breaks for him by the end of the film. Honestly, I'm still gutted over Gerald's "Ivo, you're no Maria" line! One thing I particularly loved is that repeatedly throughout this franchise, Ivo has mentioned how society has always rejected him, he's had nobody who loves him (except Stone ofc) and he's repeatedly reminded he's a failure. Yet at the end of this film, he's given the chance to live up to his real potential and Team Sonic (and Shadow (and all of Earth while we're at it)) wouldn't have stood a chance without him. With Ivo seemingly dead, this was a heartfelt, tearjerking, beautiful sendoff for Eggman in a way that doesn't feel forced and gives Jim Carrey the chance to excuse himself should he decide he no longer wants to be a part of the future movies. BUT if he does decide to come back (and it's sounding like he does) -- c'mon, y'all don't really think Shadow would have just left Eggman to die, do you? He absolutely could have teleported them both outta there at the last minute.

SHADOW. 👏👏👏 This was without a doubt, the BEST depiction of Shadow I have ever seen! Keanu Reeves and the animators put everything into this rendition of Shadow and I was moved to tears on several occasions. This movie gave us an emotional, heartbroken Shadow who doesn't mask his feelings. Even before losing Maria, we see that Shadow is someone who struggles with understanding who he is, where he comes from and what his purpose is. He's subjected to constant testing and when he's not 'in use,' he's seemingly stowed away in the dark for later. It isn't until Maria shows up and befriends him that we get to see that he's just a regular person. He's curious about music and dancing, he enjoys play and stargazing, he's self-conscious. And then the transformation he takes after being betrayed and losing his loved ones, UGH! Keanu Reeves freaking NAILS it in every single scene! One of the moments that stood out the most to me and physically gave me goosebumps was when Shadow begins to question if destroying the planet is what Maria would have wanted and Gerald convinces him to focus on the pain that was left from her death. When Shadow's charging the Eclipse Cannon and reliving the most devastating moment of his life, you can hear his rage just in the way he's breathing! Keanu Reeves doesn't even speak any words in that scene but I could feel every drop of anger and regret and hatred in his performance. But also he delivered some very funny lines too and at least to me, it didn't feel forced. I also really liked that Keanu Reeves did research for this character and actually 'created' a voice for Shadow instead of using his normal voice. (I strongly recommend watching this clip where he talks about how he came up with 'the voice'. It's fascinating and such a delight). I think a lot of people might have initially thought having him voice Shadow was cool but kind of a joke, but he took the role very seriously and I feel he made an effort to separate himself from Shadow. His voice scratched my brain in the most satisfying way lol. I wish he could permanently voice Shadow from now on, but at least I can always imagine his voice whenever I read or play any Shadow content. Also, Shadow's character model was GOR-GEOUS. He was so handsome and badass and also I love, love, LOVE the amount of contrast between him and Sonic. EVEN DOWN TO THE DETAILS IN THE TEXTILES OF THEIR GLOVES. Sonic's gloves appear to be cotton so they're soft and warm and porous -- a fabric that comforts and lets things in. Shadow's gloves are leather -- a fabric that's firm, resistant, impenetrable. SO MUCH thought and detail went into designing Shadow. AND SUPER SHADOW OH MYGOOOODDDDDDDD. He looked like an angel! I have always loved Super Shadow's platinum design in the games, but giving him the extra detail of iridescent and rose gold quills in the movie was so freaking beautiful. I truly can't fault a single thing about him in this movie. A thousand kisses to Keanu Shadow.

TEAM SONIC. That's right, I'm addressing the group here because this movie really treated each member of Team Sonic as equals and I loved it. Sonic may be the leader, but Knuckles packed this movie full of action, heart and laughs. Idris Elba and the writers found a great balance for Knuckles in that he delivered what I thought were some of the funniest lines of the film, but it didn't lessen the impact of his more serious scenes. When Knuckles is arguing with Sonic about using the Chaos Emeralds, there is so much tension and I feel like they really nailed the gravity of that fight. Knuckles ultimately chooses not to battle Sonic, but I felt that him reminding Sonic of their oath and pointing out that Sonic is breaking it was actually MORE of a punishment than a punch to the face. We also really got to see Knuckles 'THE GUARDIAN" in this movie which I greatly appreciated. We see a lot of Knuckles "the fighter" where he's quick to throw fists, but there were many moments in Sonic 3 where he got to serve as a proper protector. I cried when he caught Sonic and Tails and even after they're safe he's just holding them, the three of them a battered mess in the cornfield! AH MY HEART!

Speaking of my heart-- Tails you good boy! Tails showed so much growth between Sonic 2 and Sonic 3 and I was so proud of him! He's still cute as can be and still has moments of childlike wonder, but he played a significantly larger role in this movie and showed a lot of maturity. He's quick to come up with plans but he is also actually in the action instead of shouting from the sidelines. I also really liked that during the bleakest part of the film, it's actually Tails who is trying to console Sonic about what's happened to Tom. You know things are bad when it's the baby sibling who attempts to be the emotionally strong one and comfort the older sibling. And I love that it's Tails and Knuckles who help Ivo to steer the Eclipse Cannon away from the Earth. It would have been easy to just sideline them and have them hope that Super Sonic and Super Shadow could handle things, but that diminishes the value of Team Sonic. The movie made it very clear that their teamwork is what made them so strong and it was through all of their combined efforts that the Earth was saved in the end. Sonic and Shadow could not have done it alone, even with the combined power of the Chaos Emeralds. I feel like a broken record by saying this but it has to be said: Colleen O'Shaughnessey killed it as Tails yet again. Go queen!

This might come as a surprise to some, but the Sonic in this movie is my favorite we've seen throughout the SCU franchise so far. I have heard people criticize that Sonic was a little 'boring' or 'underwhelming' during the first 2 acts of the movie, but I actually perceived that as intentional by design. At this point in Sonic's life, he's used to the whole hero thing. He's saved the world multiple times by now so it makes sense to me that he's become complacent and doesn't really take the time to consider how potentially dangerous a threat can be (I mean think about it, he nearly gets lasered-to-death via the forcefield at G.U.N. Headquarters just because he had to be a silly goof and do a tour of London NOW of all times! Yes it's funny and in-character and I still loved that scene ((and loved that it gave Tails a shining moment to save him)), but c'mon Sonic you almost fucked up the entire plan because you just had to do your goofy thing!). So when Shadow shows up and kicks his ass not once, but MULTIPLE times--and then he nearly loses his father figure TWICE--it serves as a rude awakening. He learns that there is a price to pay for being blasé, underestimating the gravity of a situation and not sticking to a plan, and that's where he dramatically overcompensates and goes on a vengeful arc. And vengeful Sonic is FUCKING. FANTASTIC. I think we as an audience can forget how lethal Sonic can be because he's normally so playful and silly, so to see him lock in and not hold back is actually pretty terrifying (but in a great way!). Ben Schwartz was AMAZING in this portion of the movie. I find him to be one of the funniest comedians on the planet, but I couldn't believe it was the same guy during this act. He dug deep and gave such a compelling performance full of anguish and hatred that I honestly didn't realize he was capable of. But most importantly--he was able to rein it in when it mattered most and Sonic didn't lose himself before it was too late. Sonic is not a perfect character, but one of the things that makes him such a great hero is that he always manages to hold on to the light that's inside of him. I always appreciate Sonic's motivational speeches and I loved that when he's having the heart-to-heart with Shadow, the emphasis is about who you are and the good that comes from the love you have for others. It's heavy and important but was delivered in a way that was easily digestible for younger viewers without diminishing the meaning of the message. However, what I found even more moving in this scene was the moment of silence that Sonic and Shadow share on the moon. It was so poignant and I'm glad they held that moment of stillness and quiet. By the end of the movie, we do get our loveable Sonic back but he acknowledges the mistakes he made and regrets putting everyone in danger because of his reckless decisions. Each movie builds up his character more and more and I think as long as they don't backpedal, Sonic's in store for some incredible things! ALSO! Just like I said with Shadow, I freaking LOVED Sonic's character model in this one! I love that we are seeing him physically growing up and maturing instead of being forever stuck in place (no shade to the games). This character model is SO much taller and stockier than the model in Sonic 1 and is evidence that not only is he emotionally maturing, but he's physically aging up as well. It's just so cool!

I absolutely adored Alyla Browne's portrayal of Maria in this movie! She was so charming and instantly loveable the moment she was onscreen. I've noticed many people highlighting the part where she draws the bunny face on Shadow (which I love) but even the seconds before that where she mocks his scowl INSTANTLY won me over. And she even gets Shadow to smile because of it! The smile is small and only visible for a few frames, but it's there! It was clear that this girl saw more to this alien than a menacing, dangerous little space demon and wasn't gonna put up with his charade. It's no wonder the two of them became fast friends. I don't know about you, but I have been STARVED of ARK Sibling content since Shadow's very first introduction so I was obsessed with every single scene we got of the two of them actually getting to spend time together. I do love drama but so far all we've seen is the ARK tragedy and rarely any of the highlights before that event. Yes the SCU is a different universe, but this filled a hole in my heart that I've been waiting on for years. It did not disappoint!

I also want to highlight Agent Stone. Listen, I've loved Lee Majdoub since Sonic 1, but his character is at his best in this movie. Agent Stone was proper badass in Sonic 3 and proved that he's far more than just a simple henchman. It's revealed that with Ivo sulking and remaining in hiding, Stone has stepped up and is constantly monitoring what's going on in the outside world and immediately jumps into action when he notices the doctor's tech being used by someone else. Eggman wasn't even aware of it and yet Stone is out there shutting it down and bringing back reinforcements to clear Eggman's name! That super suit?? And those MOTORCYCLE TRICKS?? And him dodging a freaking ROCKET like it ain't no thing??? Hell yeah, Stone! Lee Majdoub is so funny and I love how he can be so quiet and stoic around Eggman ( "Resourceful.") but he can also be so over the top like when he's mocking the hell out of Knuckles ("Įt'Ŝ 𝕋𝒽𝒆 ⓖ𝓸Ａ𝐓 𝔪𝕀ŁҜє𝓡!... Relax.") and both just work so well! I think it's further evidence of why he makes such a good partner for Eggman because they're both capable of some intense power but they're also both such weirdos. I loved the amount of emotion and vulnerability Stone had in this movie. He's always had an allegiance to Eggman and even in Sonic 2 we saw how much he missed the doctor while he was away and how enthusiastic he was when he learned he was alive, but it went a lot deeper in this film. We got to learn that there's a much stronger affinity there and Stone legitimately cares about Robotnik and supports him through thick and thin. Personally, I ship Stobotnik, so this movie gave me plenty of delicious food! But even if you don't ship it, I think it was so significant to show the depth to Stone and Robotnik's relationship and I believe that it was Stone's affection for the doctor (romantic or platonic) that ultimately made Eggman save the world in the end. Though I'm still hoping for Jim Carrey to come back, I think they set things up so Stone could take up the EggMantle in a seamless way and I sure wouldn't be mad about it!

[Allow me to pause for a deep inhale of breath...]

Ä̷͇̰̞́Ȁ̷̭̩̰̔͐Ấ̶̝̗̠A̴͉͗A̵̳̠̚ͅA̵̫̋Ḿ̴͕Y̴̨̯̆Y̷͖͍̜̓͝Ỹ̵͍̺͑̕Y̸̜̫̆͋͋Y̶͕̫̱̾̐!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 😭💖💖💖💖💖💖😘😘😘😘😍😍😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖 My beloved! My most darling angel! My reason for waking up in the morning! SHE MADE IT! Amy is my favorite character of all time and I told y'all I was gonna throw up if she wasn't in this movie, so you'd better believe I SCREAMED when her hammer appeared in the post-credits scene! When she walked up and pulled back the hood of her cloak I was in tears and I was TREMBLING! I'm sure they're going to make changes to her once they finalize her design for Sonic 4, but this reveal was so freaking good and got me so excited for the next movie. Her character model is already so beautiful and I love that they turned the tables and have her rescuing Sonic this time! I cannot wait to see what they have in store!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Metal Sonic was cool too btw)

ACTION - 10/10

TL;DR - Highspeed fun that has you on the edge of your seat for every single minute of screen time!

This movie is NONSTOP. I wasn't bored for a single second and by the time we hit the credits I couldn't believe how much time had passed. Every fight scene was so perfectly choreographed and so RAMPED UP that it had me stunned. There's a joke early in the movie that Sonic/Tails/Knuckles' antics are capable of cataclysmic events but the movie delivers on that promise a multitude of times! From city-wide power outages to mini-black holes to volcanic eruptions, there's no shortage of chaos and action in this movie!

You guys. The first time I saw this movie, I was at a prescreening so I was among critics and people from the media instead of a group of fans. It took EVERYTHING WITHIN ME to contain my glee. I was PHYSICALLY BALLED UP, knees pulled to my chest, palms pressed to my face to try to stay quiet. My heart burst through the roof of my skull! Even when I went to go see it for a fourth time, my heart was still racing. I actually had my friend feel my pulse as proof. This movie just gets you so excited it's insane!

The fact that the movie BEGAN with Shadow's breakout... god bless it. God bless everyone who worked on it. It was so intense and heartpumping! And I loved the choice to have little-to-no music during Shadow's fight with the soldiers. It just added to the tension and didn't give you any hint of when and where Shadow was going to teleport next. This was basically a scene from a horror movie! It set the entire tone for the film and showed that Shadow was NOT to be messed with.

I seriously could describe how much I loved every action scene but I will be here forever so I won't, but I have to say-

THE ✨SUPER✨ SCENES. OH. MY. 🎶GO~~~~OD🎶!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I had high hopes and expectations we were going to see Super Shadow in this one, but never in my lifetime did I think we were going to finally see Super Sonic VERSUS Super Shadow!!! Holy hell, what a fight! We get to finally see what two god-mode characters are capable of when they're out to kill each other and aren't showing any mercy. EACH PUNCH LAUNCHING THE OPPONENT ACROSS THE FREAKING PLANET?!??!?? That editing choice in particular is one of my absolute FAVORITE things about this movie. There's a million ways this fight could have been done but showing just how fast and how strong these two are--- even causing the earth to split open and erupt just from one of them pushing off the ground--really shows just how minuscule and inferior us humans are hahaha. We wouldn't stand a freaking CHANCE. AND SONIC PUNCHES SHADOW TO THE MOON?!

ALSO THEY EACH TOOK TURNS PUNCHING THE SUPER OUT OF EACH OTHER!???!!!

I'm having to pause as I'm writing this because even though I've seen this movie four times I'm still getting so worked up just thinking about these action scenes again that I'm struggling to breathe omg

Even better than Super Sonic VERSUS Super Shadow was that final team up. That CLAP and they both turn super had me WEAK. I just about fainted right then but thank god I didn't because that entire sequence was INCREDIBLE. That little exchange of Sonic saying "Ready to recycle some tin cans?" and Shadow rolling his shoulder and saying "Try to keep up" before launching into a flurry of attacks is TATTOOED ON MY BRAIN. It will never leave my mind. It gave us SA2 and MORE. The battle was a masterpiece and it's something that words truly can't describe, you just have to witness it in all it's glory. I will never be normal about that fight scene.

One more moment I want to highlight because it shows action in nontraditional ways -- I am infatuated with the way they depicted Eggman and Shadow's last moments of saving the earth from the Eclipse Cannon. There was just something in the slow, labored movements that Jim Carrey made to show him attempting to block the explosions with shields, and the quietness of Shadow pushing the exterior of the ship with his hands and the metal is just crushing under his palms from the force. It isn't a moment of fast punches or flashing lights but it was so damn powerful and I absolutely loved it.

VISUALS - 10/10

TL;DR - Stellar effects and cinematography not only make for a delightful experience for your eyes but further immerse us into this fictional world.

WOW! I already touched on this in my above notes but seriously this movie was just beautiful. The character models were so good and felt real despite being cartoons (which goes to show you don't need them to look hyper-realistic to convince me it's a living creature). The lighting and the framing of shots were not only visually appealing but helped further the emotions of the scenes. The neon lights bouncing off Shadow in the rain as he's slowly walking down the streets of Shibuya was a WORK OF ART. Even all the moments of chaos and destruction were portrayed so well and so crisp that not only were they beautiful to look at -- I could actually tell what was going on! I watch a lot of action films and it gets so frustrating when there's so many explosions, lens flares, camera whips, etc that I can't actually make out what's happening. I never had that problem in this movie!

FAN SERVICE - 10/10

TL;DR - No, not that kind of fan service. This was a film FOR the fans!

I already said that the cinematic universe is clearly separate from the game universe. However, there were so many delightful little treats for fans of the games that felt like all the creators of this movie reached out and hugged me and said "This is for you!" BLESS! I won't list out all the Easter eggs and scene-recreations because there are too many, but man the joy I felt in sitting there and thinking "I KNOW THAT REFERENCE!" was healing to my soul. I figured "Live and Learn" was going to show up in some way because we heard the tune in the trailer, but I didn't realize how often and in how many different ways it would play throughout the movie! Starting out the movie with a memory of Maria playing "Live and Learn" on the guitar had me clutching my chest and I knew I was gonna be emotionally wrecked by this film! I loved the orchestral version of the song during the final battle which took an already badass theme and made it even more epic, but I do love that they included a snippet with the original lyrics too.

I don't know why people get so upset with these movies not being 100% like the games when it's clear that the people who work on these movies care so much about the games and want to reward us fans who love the games, too. Think about the scene where Shadow goes to push the Eclipse Cannon and he removes his inhibitor rings. That was specifically for us fans. The movie never explains what his inhibitor rings are or what they do or why he's removing them. Not knowing what the inhibitor rings are doesn't detract from the movie--but if you play the games you KNOW the significance of that moment. That was written and animated FOR YOU to enjoy. What's not to love about that???

DRAMAAAA~

Again, I know these SCU movies are marketed as family films and are more aimed for children, but I love that the movies are evolving and 'maturing' over time instead of repeating the same simple formula of some children's movies. With each Sonic movie that comes out, the themes and story are getting deeper and heavier without losing it's whimsy and fun. It's done in a way that feels like a natural progression and growth and I don't think the heavier subject matter will deter anyone who watched the previous two movies.

⭐BONUS POINTS!⭐

This is a hot take and I know many people are gonna disagree, but I was so pleased with there being LESS focus on the humans in this story (minus the Robotniks+Stone, of course). I do not care about the Wachowskis. I do not care about the Whipples. I understand why they were initially in the movies and I understand that Sonic considers the Wachowskis as his parents now, but I don't go to these movies to see the humans attending weddings or doing other sideplot shenanigans. I'm here for the aliens, damn it! So to have the humans' appearances mostly diminished to scenes that specifically related to the main plot was a huge relief to me!

THANK YOU SONIC 3.

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I could talk endlessly about this movie and even though I've written what feels like an entire essay there's still tons I'm leaving out, but to try to move this review along I'm going to move on to the negatives. Again, none of these below items were enough to ruin the movie for me and individually they aren't even worth a full point as far as a review. But ultimately these are things that I couldn't shake after watching and it's why I felt I had to dock the movie a single point in total.

EDITING WHIPLASH

I've already complimented this movie by several of the editing choices that were made, but there's one moment in particular that totally took me out of it and I'm sure you can guess what I'm going to say... Yes, it was the frequent cutting between the Super Hedgehogs and the Robotniks. Don't get me wrong -- individually these scenes were great. Ivo versus Gerald was hilarious and I did enjoy it and yes it was important to the plot -- but how DARE you interrupt my Super Sonic and Super Shadow fight with mustache wrestling! Whiplash is the best word I can use to describe how I felt in this moment. Sonic and Shadow fighting all of the robots and lasers to get to the Cannon was so dynamic and so intense and so spectacular, that when it suddenly cut away to Eggman getting spanked by a giant mech hand, I felt like I just got slapped across the face. My heart had just been racing so fast and then you cut away? Then I'm starting to calm down and just enjoy the Robotnik fight for the silliness but then it cuts BACK to the epic power of Sonic and Shadow --- and you do it AGAIN?! It just killed me!

I saw an edit somebody made where they spliced all of the super fight scenes together and removed the Robotnik fight and as you can imagine, it was infinitely better. You actually had the time to be fully enraptured by the battle and get to absorb every awesome second of it.

The Robotnik fight was still necessary (and yes, even the way they killed Gerald was hilarious to me and I still laugh even now) but they really should have edited this part of the movie better in my opinion.

PLOT HOLE -- ARE WE MISSING PART OF THE SCRIPT?

Although I think the writing for this movie was overall great, I felt there were key elements missing from the G.U.N. plot line that was meant to drive the narrative. This led me to think... was there a deleted scene and the filmmakers thought nobody would care/question it? Here are the things that I felt the movie did not clearly address:

1: Why are Team Sonic and Commander Walters close allies now? G.U.N. and Walters were previously antagonists in these films. Yes, at the end of Sonic 2 Commander Walters gives up his goal of capturing Sonic, but surrendering isn't the same as forming a partnership. Why is Team Sonic on-call for G.U.N. missions at Walters' requests all of a sudden? Then there's the scene in the Chao Garden. Why do Team Sonic and Walters meet up without anyone else from G.U.N. knowing about it? Why does Sonic trust Walters more than the rest of G.U.N.? I understand Sonic is a hero and especially in these movies he likes to see the good in people, but throughout these movies Walters ALWAYS lies. In Sonic 2, not only does Walters/G.U.N. fabricate an entire wedding as a sting operation to capture Sonic, but Walters lies when he claims that G.U.N. was formed because of Sonic's misadventures in San Francisco. In Sonic 3 we learn that G.U.N. was around for Project Shadow in the 70s. Nobody calls him out on this. Even in the Chao Garden scene, Walters is lying to Sonic about Shadow's history! He tells Sonic that Maria was killed in a terrible accident and Gerald was blamed for it. It was no accident! Soldiers showed up with guns and when Walters tried to stop them, they said "We have our orders." Sure, shooting the canister of chaos energy was not the intention and so the explosion itself was an accident, but those soldiers had every intent on taking Maria and Gerald out (if not Shadow as well). I'm sure Walters left that detail out to keep Sonic from asking further questions, but that makes him all the more of an unreliable storyteller and someone Sonic should NOT trust.

2: Why doesn't Walters trust G.U.N.? When Walters is injured in the Chao Garden attack, he gives Sonic one of the keys to the Eclipse Cannon and tells him that Sonic's the only person he trusts to keep it safe. Walters is the commander of G.U.N. -- surely he would trust a member of his team to hold onto the key, right? And if he doesn't, WHY? If you watched the Knuckles series then you know that there are indeed rogue members of G.U.N., but people watching the movie don't know that. Walters telling Sonic to keep the key safe from everyone suddenly puts Sonic on heightened alert and makes him believe he can't trust anyone, but we aren't given a reason why. Even if Walters simply had a line saying "I worry there's corruption in G.U.N." then I would have been satisfied.

3: Why is Team Sonic stealing the second key? Once the Team learns that there is a second key to the Eclipse Cannon and that the Robotniks are planning to steal it, they devise a heist to steal the second key themselves. Why? Walters didn't tell Sonic about a second key or tell him to retrieve the second key. Doesn't that mean Walters believes the safest place for the second key is where it's currently stored: at G.U.N. headquarters? Team Sonic knew Robotnik was en route, so the wisest option would have been to alert G.U.N. so they could heighten security and be on the lookout (which turns out, they already were). Again, all of this would make sense if Sonic was given an explicit reason to not trust G.U.N. and was specifically told to keep the keyS away from them, but at this point he went from trusting them to suddenly trying to take both keys from them. I loved the heist scenes and I don't want them removed, I feel they just need justification.

4: What is Director Rockwell's problem? It's clear that Rockwell is not a fan of Team Sonic (some people just can't trust aliens) but it seemed her character was going a certain direction and then just... stopped. After Walters is killed, the first thing she does is check his pocket for the key. Surely Walters would have known that Director Rockwell would have checked his pockets, especially since she was in Tokyo at the time of his death, again going back to my question of why he wouldn't trust her to retrieve the key instead of handing it over to Sonic? I was fully expecting a reveal of her being a rogue agent, especially because Team Sonic was still trying to take the second key even after the Robotniks had been thwarted. Think about it -- G.U.N. has stopped the Robotniks (and Team Sonic) from stealing the second key. That was the whole point, right? So why is Tom now trying to take the key FROM Rockwell? Isn't the key safely where it belongs and the Robotniks are supposedly in custody? So again, was there a reason Rockwell wasn't meant to be trusted, but we just don't know? I really felt like she was being set up to be a villain, but it led nowhere.

Now a lot of the elements I just addressed can be inferred and we can use context clues to guess, but I think it's the writers' job (especially in a family film) to make it clear why characters are making the choices/decisions they're making, at least by the time you reach the end of the movie. I know some stories are more ambiguous than others, but to me it felt like something was missing. I guess we'll see if there's anything hidden in deleted scenes.

FINAL THOUGHTS

As a whole, I absolutely loved this movie and I am so thankful it exists. I can't wait for Sonic 4 and I hope it receives just as much hype, love and attention that this movie did! If you read my entire review, thank you! I hope you enjoyed it, even if you didn't agree with all of it :)