#bringing him back whether you like it or not

[wheeboo]

love surge | kwon soonyoung

SYNOPSIS. in which soonyoung experiences a love surge whenever he's with you. PAIRING. kwon soonyoung x gn!reader (ft. a mention of wonwoo, latte, and small cameo of nct's doyoung) GENRE. fluff, friends to lovers, established relationship WARNINGS. reader wears a dress to prom, someone give soonyoung a medal for having a crush on reader for a whole ass three years, bro is WHIPPED™️, mild language, one suggestive scene, terms of endearment, kissing WORD COUNT. 4.8k

notes: u guys know how he vibrates whenever he's excited?? heh,,

The first time Kwon Soonyoung experienced a love surge was when he was fourteen years old.

He didn't know what to make of it at the time. Usually it would be a reaction to something cute or exciting𑁋like one of the many occurrences the neighbourhood kittens would stroll along the sidewalk on his way home from school, or the time he won a tiger plushie from the claw machine at the arcade.

It's as if his body would experience this sudden burst of energy, an uncontrollable fluttering that made him feel like he could run a marathon or jump to the moon, and he'd be left grinning ear to ear.

But this time, it wasn't a kitten or a plushie.

No, it was a person.

A new school year meant new people. New classmates, new faces, and new things to get used to. Soonyoung had never really thought much about it𑁋he was the kind of kid who could make friends easily, who moved through life with an easy smile and a boundless energy that drew people to him. Though he did have his own worries and anxieties about being a fresh new fish in high school, he was quite excited for what the future held for him now.

However, it had been exactly six minutes after class started that the door opened one last, final time.

The face he sees emerges into the room is one full of panic and a hint of embarrassment. Soonyoung catches your apprehensive eyes as you gaze around the room, searching for an empty seat, briefly landing on his eyes and the barren seat that was just conveniently the only one left in the room.

A small mutter of indecipherable apologies leaves your mouth towards the teacher as you slip your way throughout the classroom, feeling nearly everyone's eyes on you while nearly stumbling over other student's backpacks on the floor. The second you land at the empty spot right next to him, Soonyoung's breath catches in his throat.

It's almost as if his brain is struggling to register your presence right next to him, watching the way you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before fumbling for something inside your backpack.

Then your eyes furrow together defeatedly, and nothing could prepare Soonyoung when you turn towards him.

"Um..." You mumble quietly, letting out an embarrassed chuckle. "Hi, uh... do you happen to have an extra pencil with you?"

Soonyoung blinks, realising you were talking to him. "Pencil? Oh, yeah..." He reaches for his pencil bag, fishing out the first one he grabs ahold of and offers it over to you. "Here you go."

"Thanks so much," You say with relief, accepting the pencil with a cute, shy smile. Your fingers briefly touch, and the glance you both exchange afterwards seems to fill with a soft, awkward charm. "I'll make sure to bring it to you back after class, uh..."

Soonyoung brightens up. "Soonyoung!" Then he lowers his voice from how loud he seemed. "It's... Kwon Soonyoung."

"Kwon Soonyoung." The curl to your lips tug slightly more upward, and Soonyoung's heart does a little jump at the sight. "I'm Y/N."

Y/N, he repeats in his head.

His palms suddenly feel warm, and he has to ball his hands into fists at his side to stop his hands and legs from shaking and the jolt of excitement that ripples through his body. He can feel his heart thumping forcefully against his ribcage, like a thousand tiny fireworks going off all at once in his chest, and he can't tell whether it's from nervousness or pure exhilaration. Maybe both, at this point.

As class passes by, he notices the way you mindlessly doodle with the pencil he gave you, and for some reason, it makes him absurdly happy. He wonders if you'll return the pencil after class, and part of him hopes you don't. That way, he'll have an excuse to talk to you again.

Honestly, he might literally burst from the grin spreading across his face. It's a surge unlike any other one he's had before. And it's not from a game or a cute animal𑁋it's from you.

By the time class ends, you do seem to forget to give Soonyoung his pencil back, and you drift through the class too quickly that he isn't able to catch up with you before you're out the door. His shoulders slump as he fails to catch any sight of you in the crowded hallways.

Though as he shakes off the disappointment on the way to his next class, he feels that surge again. It brings a skip to his step that nearly makes him trip on his shoelace; a hopeful flutter to his heart; a smile to his face that refuses to fade for the rest of the day.

Fourteen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung doesn't really understand what having a crush is like or what love really is yet, but he knows this: whatever that feeling was, he hopes it happens again.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung tied his own tie for the very first time.

It took him approximately nine tries to finally perfect it. His hair is slicked back, and he's wearing the crispest shirt he owns, freshly ironed by his mother just an hour prior. Adjusting the cuffs of his sleeves, Soonyoung smooths over his suit one last time before turning around and taking the longest, deepest breath known to mankind.

Prom is supposed to be a night of fun, celebrating the end of high school and the journey he's about to embark on in life. He's quite excited on where life and time is about to take him, to be honest. But he tries not to think too much about that right now𑁋today is about today only.

Soonyoung finds himself squished in the backseat of Wonwoo's car with his friends, all chatting enthusiastically about the night ahead as they head to the venue. Music pumps loudly through the car's speakers, vibrating through the cramped space, and he's sure as hell that other cars could hear just the amount of excitement that was pouring out from the vehicle and into the cool, night air. But he doesn't care, nor do his friends.

The venue for prom is romantically lit and decorated, with fairy lights lining the entrance inside. Other students mingle, all dressed in their finest attire, posing for photos together with friends or with dates. Soonyoung and his friends spill out of the car, laughter and chatter flowing freely. After taking a few group photos outside, they finally head into the venue.

The night is filled with camaraderie as it progresses. Soonyoung lets himself lose on the dance floor as he spins and laughs with his friends and other students alike. His heart pounds to the beat of the music, the pulsating lights making everything feel surreal. At one point though, he drifts away from the group decides to take a break and grab a drink from the refreshment table.

Cold water cools down his throat as he glances around the venue, taking in the sight of everyone enjoying themselves. For a moment, Soonyoung leans against the refreshment table, savouring the moment, eyes searching around for something he wasn't entirely sure of𑁋until his gaze locks onto you.

You're standing near the edge of the dance floor. The dress that you wear shimmers softly under the lights. You look so effortlessly beautiful, like a scene out of a dream, and all the words he could ever think of scatter in his mind.

He hadn't forgotten about you, not in the slightest. Over the years, you'd become pretty good friends he would say, sharing a few mutual classes, bumping into each other in the hallway, exchanging quiet, lighthearted conversations and laughter whenever the teacher was lecturing and occasional banter. But Soonyoung realises he had never done exactly anything about the small, tiny crush he developed for you over time as he was dumbly scared to admit it.

And the feelings resurface all from a singular glance in your direction.

However, something else he catches is the way you appear seemingly torn between glancing down at your phone and back towards the sea of people passing by you in all sort of directions. You don't look... happy; if anything, you seem a bit lost, maybe even a little overwhelmed.

Soonyoung hesitates for a moment, contemplating whether to approach you or not. But then he decides to suck it up, and without anymore thought, he pushes himself away from the refreshment table and trails over to you, sliding his way past clusters of people, dodging swinging arms and spinning bodies until he finally reaches you.

You don't notice him at first, your attention still flitting nervously between your phone and the crowd, but Soonyoung clears his throat softly.

"Y/N?" he calls out to you, voice coming out a bit cracked.

You jump slightly, startled by the sudden voice cutting through your thoughts as you turn around. When your eyes meet his, Soonyoung watches your shoulders visibly relax.

"Soonyoung?" Then your gaze roams over him, taking him in with a small smile. "Wow, I almost didn't recognise you. You look great."

Soonyoung forces out a quiet chuckle, feeling warmth creep up his body, bashful hands coming to scratch the back of his neck.

"Thanks," he mutters, eyes trailing down towards the ground. "And you look... really beautiful tonight too."

You peer down at yourself, feeling the smile on your face widen ever so slightly at his words. "Thank you, Soonyoung."

A brief pause comes between you two as you both search for something to say. Once again, he watches you glance between your phone, to the crowd, and back to him again. There's some sort of apprehension in your eyes, and his brows furrow in concern.

"Are you okay?" Soonyoung asks, almost too quiet he isn't sure if you heard him at first.

You seem to hesitate for a moment before offering a small, forced smile. "Yeah, I just..." Then you purse your lips together. "You don't happen to have seen Minhyun around here, right?"

Minhyun? "Minhyun?" Soonyoung racks his brain for a moment, searching for that particular name through his crowded mind. "As in Minhyun from... the basketball team?"

"Yeah, him," You respond with a nod. "He's... my date for tonight, but uh... I think he ditched me. He was with me earlier and said he'd be right back. I've been looking for him for twenty minutes and he's not responding to any of my texts."

It's almost as if a hand reached its way into Soonyoung's chest, giving his heart a tight, worried squeeze, as well as a bit of frustration coursing through him. How could someone ever ditch their own date for prom? Let alone, out of all people, ditch you?

"I'm sorry, Y/N," he says, before his face brightens with determination. "Do you want me to help you look for him? I could ask around."

Immediately, you shake your head. "No, that's okay, Soonyoung. I appreciate it, though."

"Are you sure?" he urges gently. "I could... keep you company while you wait for him, maybe? Or we𑁋"

"Soonyoung," You cut his words off with a soft, tired chuckle, yet with a hint of firmness. "You don't have to do that. I don't want to ruin your night."

Soonyoung opens his mouth to protest, but the look in your eyes stops him. Still, his heart clenches at the thought of you standing here all alone, waiting for someone who might not even come back.

"I'll just head outside and wait for him," You tell him. "You go ahead and enjoy the night, okay?"

Before he could say anything more, you're brushing past him and heading towards the exit. Soonyoung watches you as you disappear through the crowd, the sparkle of your dress fading into the shadows of the venue's door. His chest tightens as a wave of disappointment washes over him, and for a moment, he just stands there, conflicted. Part of him wants to let you be, respect your decision, and go back to his friends. But the other part of him𑁋the one that's been harbouring this quiet, persistent crush for years𑁋won't let him just walk away.

However, as he attempts to take a step in your direction, a hand lands at his shoulder.

"Soonyoung! Come on, they're about to play the Cupid Shuffle," Doyoung exclaims, pulling him towards the dance floor with excitement.

For one last time, Soonyoung glances over his shoulder and towards the doors you just left. However, Doyoung continues dragging him by the ear towards the dance floor and where the rest of his friends are, already getting in position to start dancing. The familiar rhythm of the Cupid Shuffle takes over the room, and for a few minutes, Soonyoung lets the music take over. He joins in with the laughter and energy, moving in sync with his friends and the rest of the crowd.

Yet it's hard to shake off the lingering worry even while dancing, this ache to his limbs that causes his lively moments to be more subdued. Each second that passes, this pang of guilt hits him even harder.

He doesn't want to see you like that𑁋alone, waiting for someone who doesn't deserve you.

Soonyoung clenches his fists and makes a decision.

Suddenly, as if on autopilot, he finds himself drifting away from the dance floor and his friends and towards the exit of the venue. The night had gotten a little more cooler, hitting him square in the face the second he steps out. But he fixes his attention on finding you.

It doesn't him take long. He catches the familiar sparkle and colour of your dress, seeing you perched on a lone stone bench away from everybody else.

Your phone sits idly right next to you, gaze lost ahead on the packed parking lot.

"Y/N?"

You whisk your head around, catching Soonyoung slowly making his way towards you.

"Soonyoung? What are you..." You swiftly smooth out your dress with your hands. "I told you that I'll be fine."

"Well, I was never really good at following directions anyway..." He pauses when he comes in front of you. "Um... can I sit next to you?"

You give him a small nod.

Soonyoung casually places himself next to you on the bench, feeling the chill of the evening air but more focused on the warmth of being beside you. He glances at you, noticing the faint traces of concern still etched on your face.

"He didn't come, did he?"

You smile faintly at that, before it falters immediately. "No."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," You assure him. "Honestly, in a way, I was kind of hoping he wouldn't."

Soonyoung's eyes widen in surprise at that. "Really?"

"Mhm." You fiddle nervously with the bracelet around your wrist. "My friends set me up with him, even though I didn't exactly want to go to prom in the first place. But I just felt... obligated to, you know? Then I spent about two hundred dollars on a dress I'll only wear for one day in my life. But when Minhyun didn't show up, it was almost relieving, I guess. It just felt like one less thing I had to pretend to enjoy."

There's a brief pause as Soonyoung takes in your words and the way the moonlight reflects off your dress, the way your hair is perfectly styled and the incoming breeze that tousles it just a bit.

"If it makes you feel any better," Soonyoung starts, scooting a bit closer to you. "I... still think you look really pretty."

For a moment, you blink at his words, before the giggle you let out afterwards appears more natural, light-hearted, and genuine than all of the fake smiles you've plastered on throughout the night. Soonyoung can't help but let out a few soft, somewhat awkward laughs himself, a wave of accomplishment flowing through him.

You glance at Soonyoung, taking in his slouched posture, the crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and the easy, almost boyish grin that seems to settle into place whenever he's around you. You don't ever recall spending alone time with him in the few years you've known him around school.

You've always been used to his energetic attitude, this infectious brightness that follows him anywhere and everywhere. It's a bit strange to witness this side of him, but the comfort of his presence right now feels oddly right.

"It's a bit too early for prom to end right now." He faces towards you eagerly. "We should do something."

You lift a brow. "Like what?"

Soonyoung nips the bottom of his lip in contemplation, before he abruptly stands up and offers a hand toward you in this goofy, gentlemanly fashion.

Your eyes widen as you look up at him. "Soonyoung..."

"May I have this dance?" His lips quirk up into a playful grin.

You look around the area, noticing that there was no one else in sight. It was just the two of you outside right now.

"You know that I can't dance," You say to him.

"That's okay," Soonyoung reassures you. "I know that you didn't want to come to prom, but... let me at least make it worth it for you. I can be your date for a few minutes, if you want."

I can be your date for a few minutes. The words bounce off the walls in your head, and the flutter you feel in your heart warms your face.

With some slight hesitation, you allow him to take your hand, and he practically makes you leap off the cold-stoned bench and towards a more secluded part of the parking lot, right under the glow of a streetlamp. The noise from prom fades away into the background.

Soonyoung faces toward you, and the gleeful grin on his face melts away into a softened, almost sheepish look.

"You can, um... put your hands right here. On my shoulders. And I’ll place my hands... here," Soonyoung instructs with a nervous chuckle, hands hovering near your waist. "If that's alright with you."

Soonyoung doesn't exactly know why he's suddenly feeling so bold. Maybe it's because he's spent quite literally almost all of his high school years admiring you silently from afar, or because tonight has been a rollercoaster of its own and he's realised that he doesn't want to waste this chance with you.

Placing your hands tentatively on his shoulders, his hands gently settle on your waist. Admittedly, it's a bit clumsy, awkward as you both just stand there, feeling the cool breeze against your skin and the faint hum of music from inside the venue. However, it seems to melt away when you both start slowly swaying back and forth.

"Try not to step on my feet," he mutters cheesily.

"Okay, mister professional," You tease amusedly, nerves settling as you adjust your feet so that you don't accidentally step on him with your heels.

As you both sway along a comfortable rhythm, Soonyoung continues to gaze at you. Not in a weird way𑁋at least, he hopes he's not𑁋but with a kind of adoration he's sure everyone could read on his face. It feels natural, this simple dance beneath the streetlamp, like a small piece of the prom night that was meant for just the two of you.

You gaze up at him wonderingly, squeezing his shoulder to get his attention. "What?"

"I..." Gosh, Soonyoung, snap out of it! "You're just... really pretty. That's all."

His words come out quiet and almost all mumbles as he hangs his head down low to the ground.

"You've told me that three times tonight," You remind him playfully. "in the span of an hour."

"I-I'll stop. I'm sorry𑁋"

"You don't have to stop," You cut him off softly, voice tinged with a smile. "But if you wanted to ask me out, you know... I wouldn't say no. No need to be shy about it."

Your words make Soonyoung freeze in place, his hands still on your waist. Along with the night, he holds his breath. For a moment, Soonyoung's brain short circuits, and all he can do is blink at you in disbelief.

"Y-You wouldn't?" he stammers.

You shake your head softly, that small smile still lingering. "No. I wouldn't."

Soonyoung's hands instinctively tighten just a little around your waist, as if he's afraid you might slip away. He clears his throat, trying to muster up some confidence.

"So... I could be your date a little longer than a few minutes?"

A soft chuckle escapes your lips as you meet his nervous gaze, your fingers unconsciously tightening their hold on his shoulders.

"You could be my date for the rest of this night. Or this week. Or however long you want, Soonyoung."

There's that surge again𑁋a rush of warmth that sweeps through Soonyoung's entire body from top to bottom and making him feel like he's floating on cloud nine. He feels his pulse quickening, his heart racing, and the mask that was suppressing his giddiness all finally shed light. He's certain that you could feel it, too.

Seventeen-year-old Kwon Soonyoung feels as though he's stepped into a dream. Perhaps the universe had listened to his wishes all along.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had been told that high school relationships rarely ever last.

Well, to be fair, the two of you got together at the end of the year, so did it really count? He doesn't exactly know. But he's seen friends of his own break up with their supposed 'high school sweethearts'𑁋the ones where they've promised marriage and eternity and everlasting love𑁋and he'd been warned time and time again that those relationships often fizzle out when faced with the realities of adulthood.

But here he is, twenty-two, and still with you.

Soonyoung finds himself sitting at the dining table, laptop propped up in front of him, finally submitting his last assignment of the entire school year. And when he does, he shuts his laptop close, leaps out of the chair, and pumps his fist up into the air in victory.

"Yes!" he exclaims proudly into the empty apartment. "I'm done!"

He lets out a whoop of excitement, a grin stretching across his face from ear to ear. Finally the past few weeks of late nights and strenuous studying have paid off, and now, he gets to relax.

More importantly, he gets to relax with you.

As he's tidying up the apartment, the click of the door lock grabs his attention. His face lights up, and he quickly finishes putting away the last of the dishes, making a beeline straight to the front door.

You're walking in with a couple grocery bags, yet nearly drop them when a pair of arms wrap around you.

"Soonie! What the𑁋"

"I just submitted my last assignment, baby!" Soonyoung announces to you eagerly, arms squeezing around you in a tight hug. "We're done with school!"

When he pulls away, you give him a quick kiss to his cheek. "For now."

Soonyoung pouts slightly as you slip past him and towards the kitchen, beginning to put away the grocery bags. "Aw, come on, you're not excited for me?"

You chuckle at that. "Of course I am."

"But you're not showing it!"

You turn around, and Soonyoung is already standing in front of you with his arms folded across his chest, feigning a dejected look to his features𑁋a look that you know so well.

You could only let out a sigh, extending a hand to tug at his sleeve, pulling him closer to you.

"I'm proud of you, Soonie," You tell him warmly, watching the way his expression softens when he's this close to you. You let your fingers trace shapes up and down his arm. "I really am."

As another grin makes its way across his face, Soonyoung feels that familiar surge of energy𑁋of love𑁋course through him, and he wraps his arms around you once more to lift you up onto the counter. You yelp out a surprised giggle at his gesture, instinctively circling your arms around his neck for support. His eyes never leave yours as he gently sets you down, his hands resting lightly on your hips, face just inches from yours.

Soonyoung always feels like he might burst from happiness when he's this close to you, even in the few years you've been together now. He knows it's a feeling that won't go away, not now, not ever, not anytime soon.

"Gosh, you're so pretty, you know that?" He kisses you so softly, careful not to let all of his affection spill out right now. "So fuckin' gorgeous..."

"Okay, handsome, what happened to 'we're done with school'?" You tease gently, sighing quietly when his lips meet the skin of your shoulder. "Don't you want to make plans?"

"I have plans, alright," Soonyoung mutters against your skin, his lips brushing softly against your collarbone. "And you don't have to do anything else, m'kay?"

You tilt your head back slightly, gazing at him with amusement. "Are you sure that's all you need from me?"

"Hmm, a few more kisses wouldn't hurt, and I'll do the rest, yeah?" Soonyoung suggests playfully, already puckering his lips out for you. "Can I take care of you, please?"

You just giggle, taking his face in your hands and instead of kissing his lips, you press one right to the tip of his nose. "Whatever you want, Soonie."

The love surge that has been building up in his system finally releases its way out of his body, bursting out of him and consuming his entire being the second your mouth meets his. He's swift to pull you close and lift you effortlessly off the counter, his feet bringing him in the direction of the bedroom, your laughter mingling together and bouncing off the walls.

Twenty-two-year-old Kwon Soonyoung is convinced that no matter how much love he feels or how many times he shows it, there will always be more to give.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung finds that the word home has taken on a new meaning over the years.

Sure, he can find his proper comfort in the physical aspect, but it's different when you are in it with him.

Just like now, with you simply laying right next to him in bed, with Latte settled on your other side and body encased by the warmth of the duvet. Soonyoung doesn't think this is a sight he can wake up to every day; he knows it'll be a sight he'll have the privilege of cherishing for the rest of his life.

"Baby?"

"Hm...?"

He giggles lowly at the way your voice sounds so sleepy and content. Carefully, he presses his body up more against you, slipping one of his arms over you and the other under your pillow to draw you even closer to him. Your legs tangle even more together underneath the duvet, and he can't help but smile at how perfectly you fit against him.

"Hi," he whispers playfully into your ear, causing your nose to crinkle endearingly.

Yet instead of pushing him away, you flip over in his hold, nestling your head on his chest and muttering out a drowsy hi against him. Your arm wraps around his waist, and you let out a content sigh as you press a soft kiss to his neck. Soonyoung lets out an airy sigh, feeling the cold metal of the ring on your finger meet the skin of his back where his shirt had ridden up a little.

Even with years of being together, this routine of morning snuggles hasn't changed one bit; if anything, you seem to initiate more of the cuddles these days, and he doesn't mind it at all. Not one bit.

Latte curls her way into a more comfortable ball against your back as Soonyoung runs his hand under your shirt just slightly to trace his fingertips over the skin of your spine.

As he holds you for a few more, long minutes, Soonyoung separates himself a little, not to fully let go of you but just to capture his first glimpse of your face for the day.

"So pretty," he says, poking softly at your cheek. It's probably his quadrillionth time telling you that and every possible synonym of it, but it never seems to lose its meaning.

Slowly, your eyes flutter open to peer at him with a groggy but affectionate gaze.

"I love you."

Soonyoung blinks dazedly. Somehow, still always, he's always caught by surprise whenever you say those three little words to him. He's been hearing them for years now, every day and every night, but every time, it feels like the first.

It's almost ridiculous to admit how much of an effect you have on him still, how much you've managed to wrap him around your finger since the first time you met, but the heavens only know how grateful he is for it.

"I love you too."

Then his lips curl up into cheesy grin, and the surge of love that courses through him once more makes him tightly wrap his arms around you, causing you to stuff your face into his chest. You feel his body vibrate around you, muffling your giggles in his embrace, and accidentally jerking Latte awake with a soft whine.

Twenty-eight-year-old Kwon Soonyoung had finally discovered the meaning of home and love.

And it's you.

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@ahuiahoe

[papaya-twinks]

just an assistant - l.n - part.idk

Warnings: Smut, 18+, fingering, handjob (kinda), swearing, degradation

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

🎀

A/N - coz y’all seemed to like this, I’ve decided to continue it. 

Lando seemed to have a remarkable way of putting himself down, even if he had achieved the best result humanly possible. Such as when he secured pole position yesterday and he still looked downcast. 

Somehow, neither of you had said anything about the little…sexual escapade the pair of you had gotten up to recently, and you instead continued to work not all and freely. “Lando, I’ve got the paperwork for the team meeting after the race,” you said, handing him a stack of paper. 

“Cheers,” he muttered, taking them and dumping them on the side. It frustrated you how careless Lando could be, but after all, you weren’t here to control him. Just to manage his stuff. And yet, as you watched the race unfold, with the mass of team orders and the fuck off the pit strategy, you were almost horrified. 

The way the tea, guilt-tripped Lando and how pissed he looked as he stepped out the car, congratulating Lando with a half-hearted smile. You half-expected Lando to…take his anger out on something. Rather, someone. 

You. But…he didn’t. Instead, he just walked past you, going to read the papers you’d given him earlier. But it didn’t take a whole ass genius to figure out what he wanted. He’d initiated almost all of the occurrences between the pair of you. 

Maybe….maybe he wanted you to initiate it. You stood outside his door for a solid five minutes, rebating with yourself whether this was a good idea or not. Fuck it, who cared? “Lando,” you said, walking into the room as he made a noise, but said nothing. 

You huffed, a little annoyed he didn’t even look up, as you took the paper from his hands, making him finally look up. “You’re angry,” you said, seeing how pissed off he looked, both at you taking the paper, but mainly the race. 

“Media is in an hour,” you said. God, how the fuck were you supposed to initiate it? “You’re so shit at everything you do,” Lando said, rolling his eyes as your cheeks turned a light pink hue, “can’t even initiate sex, can you?”. Just hearing him say the word ‘sex’ sent a shiver through your spine. 

“Need help for everything, don’t you?” he said, pulling your wrist to pull you onto his lap. “Pathetic,” Lando rolled his eyes, pulling his belt down, grinding your hips down onto his growing bulge. 

“Lando,” you gasped as he ignored you, bunching your hair into his hand as he lifted your skirt, pulling his suit down, his cock springing between your thighs. Fuck he was huge. “D’you think I should’ve won, Y/N?” he asked, eyes fixed deeply on yours. 

Fuck, he was putting you on the spot. “I…you should’ve won,” you said, as he cupped your hand in his bigger one, bringing to round his throbbing member. “How long hybrid you wanted this?” Lando asked, bringing his lips to suck on your neck. 

“Since….since I met you,” you said quietly as he smirked, his hand round yours. “Go on,” Lando encouraged you, holding your hand as he pumped himself, eyes fluttering closed. “Fuck,” he hissed, “good girl,”. The nickname itself was enough  to send shivers down your spine, as he moved you to lay on your back. 

“Always wear such small clothes,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your skirt over your ass, pulling your legs over his shoulders. “Lando,” you started, not even knowing what you were gonna say as he shushed you with a small smack on your thigh. 

He kept your hand wrapped round his throbbing member, his fingers trailing up and down your sensitive, moist folds. Your hand moved in rhythmic twists up and down his member. “God, look at you,” Lando said, more to himself than you as he stared between your legs. 

“Keep going, yeah?” Lando ebbed you on, moving both of your hands onto his cock, your thumb teasing at his tip as he held you on his lap, inching his finger into your core. With the other hand, he moved his fingers to slide of your clit, gliding through your heat. 

“Fuck, Lando,” you gasped as he pumped his finger slowly inside of you, bringing his other hand to spread the juices he’d collected across his own dick, as a sort of lube. “Couldn’t even manage to initiate this yourself, could you?” he scoffed.

“All you had to do was ask,” Lando sighed, his voice full of mocking as he curled his finger against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck Lando,” you gasped, hand instinctively squeezing tighter round his member. 

You could practically feel how Lando breath hitched as he pulled his hand away from between your legs, pushing you on your back on the massage bed. “An hour before media, you said?” Lando raised a brow, “how many times can you cum in an hour?”. 

Lando clamped his hand down on your mouth to stop any moans leaving you, as he ran the head of his cock over your entrance, before sliding in gently. “So fucking tight, aren’t you?” Lando gasped, one hand sliding into your hair, the other holding your stomach flat down. 

“Lando,” you gasped, voice muffled by his hand as he slowly pulled all the way out, running his throbbing head over your clit once more, collection yout warm juices across his length, before sliding back in. 

You’d barely even had him inside of you, and the room almost smelled like sex, your small white shirt clinging to your chest and arms as Lando worked on removing it, pushing his cock back into you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his hips slowly going from rocking into full

-on snapping against yours, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing as he fucked you. He still had one hand on your mouth, the other throwing your shirt off, moving to cup yout tit through your bra. 

You could tell Lando liked more fonts that just his dick slamming into you, one hand on your breast and the other coming to press gently on your neck. The restriction on your airways wasn’t enough to truly hurt, but add to the pleasure. 

It was like some sort of way Lando could show you who was in  control,mas if you couldn’t even already tell with the way he was drilling into you. The feeling of his cock punching in and out of you was heavenly, you felt like you’d pass out from just the feeling of his member deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he said one hand running your hair, tugging gently to bring your head down enough for his lips to crash against his. “Lookin’ so good f’me,” Lando groaned, his voice deep as he closed his eyes, head tilting back slightly. 

Lando!s hands trailed down your body, one resting tangled between your hair, the other threading round to lay on your neck. “Come on, Y/N,” Lando said, his voice deep and gravelly, “you can do one thing good f’me, and that’s that you can cum,” Lando groaned. 

“You showed me just how well you could not long ago, baby,” he said, giving your jaw a quick kiss, before he dropped his lips to your neck, taking the supple skin between bis teeth, nipping at your sensitive skin as a small purple bruise appeared.

“Should just hire you for sex, shouldn’t I?” he asked. There was so,eating about the bitter degradation that did somehow build up pleasure in you, but you were half-hoping maybe he could be a little easier on you. 

After all, you weren’t as incompetent as he made out, in fact, nowhere near as much. “Lando,” you gasped, eyes going a little red from the tears of how hard his cock was slamming into you, his hips angled so the head of his member hit your g-spot perfectly. 

In your mind, be looked like a damn angel, his abs glinting with a thin layer of sweat, but in his mind? All he could see was you. He didn’t know why he insisted on being such a dick to you, but it was almost…attractive, seeing you upset. In some odd way. 

You could feel your body shoot into tiny spasms as your orgasm flooded through, your pussy clenching round Lando as he groaned, holding you down a little as he kissed and nipped at your neck gently.

“One more f’me,” he said, not leaving any room for question as he rolled his hips a few times, pumping in and out of you before he resumed his rapid movements. “Lando,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back slightly as his hips snapped into yours. 

You were sure Lando would be leaving bruises on your hips and thighs, your hair a mess beneath you. “I said…i did say h-how many times I can make you cum in an hour,” Lando said, looking to the clock on the wall. 

“One more, yeah?” Lando said, his words almost encouraging as he slowed down the pace of his snapping hips, now gently rocking in and out of you. “You’re such a pretty girl, Y/N,” his voice was no longer rough and commanding. 

Now…soft? This was unlike Lando. But you didn’t hate it. It was nice, having someone treat you well. You opened your mouth to say something, no words coming out as Lando rubbed soothing circles along your hips. 

“That’s it,” he said softly, “cum f’me, and we’ll go do media and I’ll clean you up after, okay?”. Your second orgasm flooded through as Lando pushed into you, once, twice, before he slid himself out, cum shooting in thick hot ropes on your abdomen. 

“Just a bit of media left,” he said, a warm smile on his face as he gave you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Whether Lando wanted to be mean to you right now or not, he didn’t, 

Because he could see how hard that had been, how much he had overstimulated and pushed you, whilst he had his thumb rubbing on your sensitive clit, and he knew you needed some aftercare. 

[satorusugurugurl]

heya! I have a req - imagine Gojo tears up when yn kisses his forehead. he’s never felt so vulnerable 🫠

take care :)

Rest

Summary: After a long day of being Gojo Satoru— the strongest sorcerer of the modern age, your boyfriend gets to come home to your loving embrace.

Characters: Gojo Satoru x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: sweet flufffy goodness, mentions of sleep deprivation, stress, overworking, but overall it’s really sweet!

Word Count: 1.6K

A/N: Nonnie thank you for your request! I had so much fun writing this, Gojo deserves so much better! 💚💚💚

It was late, two thirty in the morning, to be exact, when the door to the bedroom finally creaked open. You stirred, wincing at the stiffness in your neck as you sat up, the book you read lying against your chest. But your neck didn't matter, not when Satoru was wincing as he slipped his shirt off and placed it in the hamper. His blindfold hand was loosely wrapped around his neck, giving you a perfect view of his dark circles.

“Toru?” You hesitantly asked, drawing his attention towards the bed.

Though you could see the exhaustion in his eyes, he smiled a little on the side but still smiled for you. “Hey, Sweetpea, I didn't wake you, did I?” He walked towards the edge of the bed, kissing your cheek.

“No, I had a stiff neck, so that woke me up.”

Cerulean eyes darted towards the book that was still resting on your chest. “I told you you didn’t have to wait up for me. Just because I had to work late doesn’t mean you have to deprive yourself of sleep.” Even when he was talking, you could hear the exhaustion in his voice.

Being the strongest sorcerer of the modern age was a curse in itself. Satoru was constantly on the move. Whether yanked away for missions or meetings with the higher-ups, he rarely had a break. Time for himself was a rarity. You hated seeing him so drained. Even if you confronted him about it, he would deny it. Putting on some arrogant, cocky attitude that he was the strongest and handling some extra meetings or taking on a few more missions wasn’t going to hurt him.

Your boyfriend could put on that kind of act for himself, his students, or even the higher-ups themselves. You knew he was tired, though. He could deny your accusations all he wanted. You, however, were fortunate enough to know him better than he knew himself. That facade was see-through when it came to you looking at him.

You wanted to tell him it was okay to be tired and set some time aside for himself. Deep down, you knew if you were to bring that up, Gojo would try to ensure you that everything was peachy. So, given the circumstances, you did the one thing you were able to do.

You would support him, be there for him when he needed to vent, and help him out as much as you could or as much as he would allow you to do.

“I was just reading; my book got really good. I just dozed off.”

“Mmm, you should put the book down and get some sleep.” Long ivory fingers caressed your cheek. “I don’t want you having a crooked neck because you were up reading your smut.”

“Leave my books out of this~” Satoru snickered, rolling his eyes as he pulled back, unbuckling his belt. “Go take a shower, then get your ass in bed.”

Satoru gave you a dorky salute as he headed into the bathroom, removing the rest of his clothing as he walked. You knew he was exhausted from the shower he took. Enough to wash the white tufts of hair and wash his body thoroughly. When he finished his shower, his mind was fuzzy with sleep deprivation. Finishing getting ready for bed was a blur, but he found himself climbing the sheets next to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his head against your breasts.

Your warmth and the smell of you relaxed every muscle in his body as he rested his body weight against you. Satoru was so tired. He needed to think about going on vacation sometime soon. Getting away from the bustling life he was living sounded like a dream. One where you would join him, and the two of you would stay in bed, talking, watching movies, and enjoying each other‘s company for hours.

Thoughts of that had him snuggling his face further into your soft breasts. You could see the dark circles under his eyes from where you were propped up. Your poor boyfriend was being tugged in every way possible, which would take a toll on anybody. Just because he was the strongest didn’t mean everyone had a right to take advantage of him and use him as a weapon.

Gojo Satoru was human, and he deserved some praise and recognition. Normally, he provided that recognition for himself, occasionally giving himself a literal pat on the back. But it was nice to hear it from someone else, too. He deserved the world—nothing but happiness.

Sensing your body's tension, Satoru turned his head to look up at you. As he did, his soft white bangs moved with each turn of his head. You reached out, brushing some strands away, only stopping to push them back as if he were wearing his blindfold. His eyes glanced to where your hand was pushing up his hair, cerulean eyes almost crossing to get a glimpse.

No words needed to be said. You gave him the faintest smile before pressing your lips against his forehead. As your lips pulled away his skin, you could feel the tension in his body; fearing you may have crossed the line, you quickly pulled back, looking down at your chest with tears staining the thin fabric of your top.

“Toru?” Your voice was soft as if your words themselves would shatter him.

“W-What was that?”

“A forehead. a kiss, a little token of my appreciation for all your hard work.” You weren’t sure what to expect—maybe a thank you or a smile in return. What you met with instead was tears in his eyes. Tears that made the blue of his Iris stand out even more.”Toru! Baby, what’s the matter?”

“I just—that was different.”

Growing up as the strongest and as an only child had been rough. It didn’t matter that he was filthy rich. The staff at the house was constantly on him. His parents rarely came to see him or talk to him. Gojo was alone most of the time, and he found many of his favorite memories from that time when he snuck out of the estate and went exploring Tokyo, being held like this and having kisses planted against his forehead with something he had never experienced with anyone, even his mother.

And he liked it. Scratch that he loved it. Being able to rest in your arms to have you petting his head, and playing with his hair always had him relaxing. This was how he liked to spend his rare moments at home with you. To be in your arms, to have your fingers running through his soft hair, and to have your lips pressing against his forehead made everything he did worth it. He put so much time and effort into helping the next generation of sorcerers, trying to make this world a place he wanted to live in. The hours of the hard work he put in was worth it.

At the end of the day, he got to come home to you.

You were one of the only people who treated him like a human being rather than some tool to be used. So, after a long day of being pulled around, told what to do, and scolded, this was precisely what he needed. Gojo’s mind, body, and soul knew that, and they all worked against him and caused tears to well up in his eyes to make him feel vulnerable. Thiswas a feeling he somewhat liked as long as it was with you.

“Oh, I’m sorry, baby. I hope I didn’t insult you or make you uncomfortable.”

“No, I like it. I like it a lot, Sweetheart.” He slowly shut his eyes, his full white eyelashes resting against his cheek as he exhaled through his nose. “Could you do it again?”

Hearing him a king for you to kiss his forehead again had your heart swelling with a certain pride as you hummed happily, pressing your lips against his forehead while your nails gently scratched at his scalp. “Thank you for all of your hard work, Toru.” Your voice was angelic, easing Satoru further into the mattress as his body relaxed more, his mind slowly turning off. “Thank you for everything you do.” He hummed softly in response as he slowly began drifting to sleep, tears welling at the corners of his eyes before slowly streaming down his cheek.

Seeing the tears slowly sliding down his slightly flushed cheek had you abandoning one of your hands on the top of his head, your thumb quickly brushing the stray away. Once you were sure that the tears would stop flowing, your hands slowly drifted back up to the top of his head, continuing to scratch lazily at it as you shut your eyes, yawning, as Satoru hugged you tight, wrapping his arms around you not letting you out of his grasp. It was such a comforting and warm hug that left you feeling safe even when he fell asleep. Your nerves melted like snow on a spring day.

“I love you so much,” Satoru mumbled against your chest. Any other thoughts failed to reach his mouth; he began to breathe much deeper, falling into REM sleep.

But he didn’t have to say anything else. You simply priced one last very long kiss against the center of his forehead. When you finally managed to pull away, you found yourself cradling his head to your chest, allowing him to listen to your heartbeat because he fell asleep.

“I love you too, Toru.”

Yeah, all of his hard work was definitely worth coming home to this.

Forever Tag List:

@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks @reap3erslov3 @wil10wthetree

[amywritesthings]

Hi love!! Can I ask for some fluff with our man when we are still in bed, waking up and just talking about future? Like Levi's dream of owning a tea shop is so cute

i got you xo

window shopping.

pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader word count: 880 warnings: 18+ mdni, light oral sex (f!receiving), naked laying in bed, overall fluff and banter, set in the flackbacks and universe of silver underground. credit: divider by @saradika-graphics

"Nice to Mint You."

You're met with deep, disappointed silence.

"Jasmine-d to Meet You."

An unimpressed baritone groan rumbles against your cheek.

"...that really the best you got?"

It takes everything in you not to vibrate from your own amusement, knowing damn well that Levi's eyes must be glued to the back of his head from how hard he's rolling them in exasperation.

With pursed lips, you nuzzle your cheek back into the soft bare expanse of his chest. "...nice to... matcha—"

"Enough."

The dam breaks, and you're left bursting into quiet giggles when his strong hand pulls you closer to his body.

Easily you mold closer, gliding a palm along the flex of his abdomen until your arm has returned to its original place. Your fingers tickle the curve of his torso, barely brushing the white sheets below.

To think the two of you once lived a life where you couldn't spend the twilight hours of the day like this: in a proper bed with proper sheets and pillows; left to talk about nothing, nonsense, until the sun came up and you returned to his shadow.

Lieutenant and Captain.

"What?" you feign innocence, lifting your head to observe the miniscule scowl pinching his eyes to a narrow. "Every tea shop on the surface has a punny name."

"Not if they have a bit of damn self respect, they don't," he mumbles, still idly tracing circles into the flesh of your upper arm.

"I'm wounded."

"I'm sure you are." Caught red-handed in a lie; a grin stretches your mouth, causing his eyes to narrow further. "Brat."

"I'd rather be a brat than boring."

"Oh, yeah?" he challenges, voice still an octave lower from just waking up. "Is that what I am to you? Boring?"

"A real snooze."

You lie again, but you're persuaded otherwise when that hand on your arm snakes between flesh to tickle under your armpit. Immediately you jolt, trying to keep your voice down as you protest in panic.

"No! No, I'm kidding, don't, I'm sorry—"

"Shhh."

Levi pushes forward, landing in a position hovering above you. The arm that was once wrapped around your body now rises so his palm can cradle your face.

"So goddamn loud," he reprimands without heat. "You wanna wake up the rest of the shitheads?"

"As if they don't already know," you protest with a sigh, relaxing once you're certain he isn't about to launch an attack.

"They don't."

"Uh-huh."

For a moment, you stare. Focus, on the way his black fringe messily hangs over his stormy eyes. He's grown out his hair whether he'll admit it or not. You often find yourself wondering that it could look like longer.

"I'm losing you," he states, bringing you back to the present with him. "What's on your mind?"

You blink back into your body and really look into his eyes.

When you once dreamed about coming to the surface, you thought a thunderstorm would best these eyes. You've seen over a dozen storms at this point. None have ever compared.

"The fact that you don't wanna name your tea shop something cute."

"Who said I wanted to own one?"

"As if you wouldn't cream yourself at the idea of getting good, quality leaves to put the rest of the Walls to shame." Your brows slide high on your forehead. "Am I wrong?"

A pause settles.

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth.

"Tch. It's not gonna have a cute name."

"Then what do you wanna name it?"

Lifting your chin, the tip of your nose grazes his.

"Indulge me."

"Fine. Got one."

"Sure."

His legs slide under the thin sheet to hook around yours. You lift your hips and shift with him to accommodate the press of his body.

For the longest time he stares, studying you, before finally mumbling three words.

"...Humanity's Strongest Brew."

He must sense you're about to howl, because his hand leaps off of your cheek to press full against your mouth. And he's right to do it: you nearly betray your location by laughing outright, head tilted back.

"S'funny to you, huh?" he grunts.

"Mmm!"

Trying to speak, to tell him that you're good, you won't alert the neighboring scouts, you wave a hand in his face. His gaze narrows to slits before eventually letting up.

"I swear, James—"

"No!" you interrupt in a whisper, fighting demons to conceal your giggles. "No, it's amazing. I'm serious."

"Fuck off."

"I mean it, Levi! But — shit, if you thought my puns were bad—"

"I'm done talking," he decides, kissing between your breasts. "Gonna make you pay for laughing."

"Wait!"

He makes a point to crawl down your body, kissing a trail of sloppy kisses at the middle of your ribcage to your belly button.

"I promise you, it's a great name."

He answers by grabbing the edge of the sheet and ripping it over his head, disappearing under the fabric.

"Levi—"

When he hooks your left thigh over his shoulder and dives in to bury his face against your center, you gasp sharply and grab the pillow behind your head. He hums against your clit, satisfied by the silence.

"Not laughing so hard now, huh?"

Before you can answer, he dives back in to devour his breakfast.

[lovelookspretty]

lover of mine

drew starkey x actress!reader au

— in which drew and y/n, secretly exes, must fake date in order to keep the peace at a mutual friend’s wedding, but the forced proximity makes them question whether they ever truly moved on.

warnings: y/n lowkey being difficult because she doesnt want to lie to her best friend, DREW TRYING HIS BEST

one | two | three

authors note: okay she was a little UGHcore but i just needed a rocky start before things got cute n theyll be communicating soon. guys i promise theyll get better n y/n also wont feel so guilty as time goes on !!!!!

you gaze up at the home through the window of the car. drew is driving beside you, insisting you begin the plan by arriving together to the address leila forwarded to everyone.

“it’s . . . i didn’t think it would look like this,” you say aloud, and drew turns down the volume of the radio after he parks the car out front.

the house is big, surrounded by a few others down the road that look similar to it. the first floor seems like a basement area because the stairs at the front of the house lead all the way up to the second floor and continue two more, standing at four in total.

it’s just a few miles away from town that you and drew were able to drive by and take a look at on the way there. the area is beautiful. no wonder why leila’s mom and her boyfriend stay there.

the front door is open and you spot leila’s head peeking out of the doorway just on time. she disappears for a moment before she’s leaving the house to hurry down the stairs, probably to greet you both. you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car to meet her halfway.

“isn’t it amazing? was it a safe drive from los angeles?” leila asks as you quickly greet her with a hug, before you walk her over to drew’s car. he’s opened the trunk and back doors to retrieve your things. “two weeks here will be nice, huh?”

“oh absolutely,” you agree with her, and you grab your purse from the backseat and drew’s backpack, then shut the door. “is everyone else here?”

“yeah, they just got here an hour ago—gia brought her boyfriend, roman. he’s a little shady but they’re kinda cute. libby’s here too, ooh, and oscar, theo’s childhood friend,” leila says and you can just hear the excitement in her voice that makes you smile.

you hold one of the straps of drew’s backpack and hold it up for him to take it while leila keeps talking. you watch as he eyes it for a moment before looking at you, as if he’s wondering why you don’t want to take it.

the thought doesn’t even cross your mind but it’s fine. he takes his backpack and slings it over his shoulder, then continues to grab the handle of his suitcase and carry it out of the trunk, then yours.

you stand there and wait for him to hand you something to carry but he just keeps his backpack on both shoulders, shuts the trunk, locks the car, and then grasps both suitcase’s handles with either of his hands, ready to head up. there’s a faint smile on his face when he faces you and leila.

“you’re taking them?” you ask, referring to both of your things so you can just bring your purse to the house.

he nods like it’s nothing, “yeah, i got it.”

leila can’t help but awe at you two. “you guys are so adorable. theo and i missed having you both around,” she says as she turns around and heads to the home.

at her words, you peer over your shoulder and send drew a knowing look, but there’s a slight twinge of guilt in both of your expressions that you have to shrug off.

you and drew stand side-by-side as you confront the home, watching as leila walks up the steps and is immediately approached by theo, who hands her a drink.

they share a kiss, and right past them you can just barely spot a few figures that must be the rest of the group. they’re shouting and laughing with one another, leaving you to look at drew again.

he gives you a nudge. “professionals, remember?” he’s referring back to your initial conversation about the plan just two weeks ago.

something about all of this just makes your stomach turn, but you nod. “professionals,” you repeat, and then look at the house again, then you take your step.

you’re carefully settling down on the bed leila’s given you and drew. it’s in a separate room right next to where she and theo will be sleeping. and of course, there’s just one bed.

“i can take the couch tonight if you want,” drew offers as he sets both of your belongings on the side, but he’s talking about sleeping on the small couch on the opposite side of the room to the bed, just against the window.

“it’s just sleeping in a bed, star, it’s nothing we haven’t done before,” you tell him with a shake of your head, and drew’s shoulders drop ever so slightly at the sound of his old nickname, the one that once rolled off your tongue so effortlessly. now, it feels like a small peace offering, a reminder of when things were simpler.

he gives it a few moments to make sure you’re okay with it, before he nods. “okay,” he says.

you check the time on your phone. it’s already eleven in the morning and leila said she wanted to go swimming in the afternoon. you have a whole beach ahead of the house but she insists on using the pool in the back. theo even suggested earlier that he and oscar can grill some lunch.

“i should get ready,” you say as you stand and toss your phone on the bed, then approach your suitcase. there’s a knock at the door and you know it’s leila. “i’ll be out soon, sorry!” you tell her, hoping you’re loud enough for her to hear you from all the music they’re playing out there.

you glance up at drew when you see he’s just standing there. “what are you gonna be doing?” you ask him, then rifle around your clothes for a bikini.

he scratches the back of his head as he settles on the couch, and he shrugs, “might join theo and oscar since they’ve been down there already.”

you only nod as you find a matching set that you’ll decide to wear today. drew is looking around the room, even outside where the views are like paintings on a canvas.

“this place is so nice,” he says, a little too casually, like he’s trying to ease the awkwardness. “lei’s mom really knows how to live it up.”

you don’t respond right away, focusing on your makeup bag that you need to retrieve something in. it’s not that you don’t hear him, you just . . . don’t feel like talking. when you finally do, your voice comes out flatter than intended. “yeah. it’s a nice place.”

tension lingers heavy in the air. you hear drew shift on the couch, probably sensing your mood, but he continues. “kinda reminds me of that trip we took up the coast. remember that little inn with the—”

“i don’t really want to talk about that right now,” you cut him off, your tone sharper than you mean it to be. you don’t look at him, you just reapply your perfume as if it’s the most important task in the world.

there’s a pause, and you can feel drew’s gaze on you. “right,” he says quietly, “sorry.”

you exhale, trying to shake off the tension building in your chest. you know it’s not his fault—not entirely. this whole thing was a bad idea from the start, but you agreed. you’re here. and now, you’re stuck with him, in this room, pretending like everything’s fine when it’s the furthest thing from it.

“i . . . didn’t mean to snap,” you say, softer this time. “it’s just, i’m still not completely okay with all of this.”

drew leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “i get that. but we’ve already talked about it. we agreed to do this, and now we’re here. you know that it’s too late to back out.”

you close your suitcase with more force than necessary, finally looking up at him. “yeah, but it wasn’t my idea to lie to my best friend, drew.”

his jaw clenches for a second, and you can see the faint flicker of hurt in his eyes, but he doesn’t lash out. he just nods, “i know it wasn’t. but you’re here. you agreed.”

you purse your lips, frustration building. “yeah. because you asked me to. not because i wanted to.”

he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a slow breath. “i didn’t want to drag you into this if you were gonna be miserable the whole time.”

“i’m not miserable,” you snap, but the lie feels heavy as it leaves your lips. you avoid his gaze, the weight of everything sitting on your shoulders. “i just don’t want to pretend everything’s okay when it’s not.”

he’s quiet for a moment, the silence thick between you two. “i’m trying, y/n,” drew says finally, his voice low, almost pleading. “i’m trying to make this less . . . awkward, but it feels like no matter what i say, it’s wrong.”

you just fold your arms, staring at the floor. “maybe that’s because it’s not just about this trip. it’s about everything that happened before.”

drew’s expression hardens, but he doesn’t argue. “i know. i just thought that maybe this could be a chance for us to be around each other again. figure things out.”

you raise your eyebrows. “figure what out? there’s nothing left to figure out. we’re not together. and pretending like we are just feels wrong.”

he’s silent for a long moment, staring at you like he’s trying to find the right words but can’t. eventually, he just stands, moving over to the window. “if you want out, y/n, you can tell them the truth. i’m not gonna stop you.”

you swallow hard, not knowing what to say to that. of course, he’s not wrong—you could end this charade whenever you want. but something keeps you from doing it. maybe it’s the fear of letting everyone down. maybe it’s the guilt of seeing leila so happy, thinking everything’s fine between you and drew.

or maybe it’s something deeper—something you’re not ready to admit to yourself yet.

“i’m not gonna ruin leila and theo’s plan,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “i’m sticking to ours.”

you’ve collected your swim suit and a pair of shorts and head for the bathroom. before you close the door behind you, you hear drew’s quiet voice, more resigned than angry now.

“i’m trying, y/n. i wish you’d let me.”

you’ve joined leila downstairs, as she’s planned on preparing other food for todays lunch in the kitchen, so libby, gia, and roman are already there enjoying themselves. they’re mainly just talking, not doing much other than that. leila’s already set everything up for you and her to work on for the next half hour or so.

you greet libby and gia with a small wave, having already said hello to them when you first got there. libby is a publicist in hollywood who met leila while she was filming some indie movie earlier in her career. she was brought in to manage leila’s pr during a press tour and boom—immediate friends.

gia and roman came sometime after. all you know is that leila met gia at a party like you and leila. gia’s incredible in fashion and helped leila with some of her carpet looks. roman’s just this alternative musician who she started dating this year. cute, but a little weird, like leila said.

“so, you and drew starkey?” roman asks as he pops a grape in his mouth, eyeing you. “i thought outerbanks didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“you thought that, and a lot of people still do,” you tell him. leila’s showing you her plan on what to cook while you watch. “he and i like to keep it private.”

“more like a complete secret,” he says, in which gia has to smack his arm to tell him to stop talking. “what? nobody knows.”

“some relationships work better that way,” you say.

“yeah, maybe take a page out of their book and do the same,” libby tells roman, and you see leila smiling at her friends as she works on dicing the vegetables. “there’s a few photos of you two out on the internet. i mean gia, baby, if i were you, i’d keep it a secret. roman’s so blah.”

he shakes his head at her and it makes you smile this time. libby catches it and grins, giving you a nod as she peels her orange.

after eating lunch and playing around in the water for hours, you all finally settle at the firepit, minus gia and roman who insisted they needed to sleep earlier because of their flight in today.

you’re leaning back against the seat, sitting next to leila who’s wrapped up in her blanket. the boys and libby are talking on their own about whatever. you don’t know. you just see drew smiling and constantly leaning forward and laughing, in which you tell him every time to be careful in case he gets too close to the fire.

your focus wavers when you feel his hand casually rest on your thigh. it’s not possessive, but there’s a weight to it. you immediately stiffen, your body instinctively tensing at the sudden contact.

your gaze flicks to his hand, then up to his face. he’s not even looking at you, continuing his conversation, acting as though the gesture is completely natural. it’s all part of the act, you remind yourself. he’s only doing it to make sure no one suspects anything. you know you can’t react—any sign of discomfort would raise questions you don’t want to answer—but it pulls you out of the moment with leila.

you force a small, tight smile and try to refocus, nodding along to whatever leila is saying.

“how have you and drew been?” she asks you, and you suddenly feel that guilt creeping up on you at that moment. that’s a terrible question.

you blink twice, considering your words before speaking, “we’re good, really good. it’s gonna be a little hard when drew leaves to film soon, but you know how it goes.”

she hums. “that’s how theo said he felt like when i was away for white lotus,” she says gently, understanding where you’re coming from.

you smile, but the weight of your lie settles deep in your chest. it’s a weird feeling, pretending to be something you're not, especially when leila’s eyes are so kind, so trusting. you know she means well, but there’s just so much guilt.

leila tilts her head and leans it on the back of the couch, watching you. “it’s tough, isn’t it? balancing everything—work, life, love. theo and i had such a hard time with it at first.”

you nod, keeping your hands busy by fiddling to avoid looking at her. “yeah, it is. i mean, it’s always been a challenge with our schedules.”

leila’s brows furrows slightly. “you two have always seemed like you handle it so well, though. what’s your secret?”

your heart races a little, and you force a chuckle. “i guess we’ve just gotten used to it.”

the words feel hollow, and you wonder if she can sense it. it’s not a complete lie—you and drew had gotten used to it all, but that was before everything fell apart. before the distance between you became more than just physical.

leila catches your eye again, her voice softer. “you two have always been so private. it’s kinda nice, though. you don’t have to deal with all the drama the rest of us go through with the media and stuff.”

you force a laugh, and you can just feel the warmth radiating off your body. “yeah, it has its perks.”

you can’t even look at her. your gaze keeps getting drawn to the fire that leila can just sense the awkwardness, tilting her head a little, and you can see the faintest trace of concern in her expression.

“you okay, y/n? you seem . . . i don’t know. tired?”

“i’m fine,” you say, a little too quickly. you clear your throat, trying to keep your voice steady as you continue. “it’s just . . .” you pause, checking that the others aren’t listening before leaning in to speak quietly, “drew and i, we’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. work and everything. i think it’s just catching up with us.”

leila nods, sympathy in her eyes. “i get it. it’s hard when you don’t get enough time together.” she pauses, looking like she’s considering her next words. “but hey, at least you’re here now. a couple of weeks without any distractions, right? this could be good for you two.”

leila’s gaze shifts to the others where drew is still laughing with theo, libby, and oscar. her voice softens again, and she leans closer to you this time. “it’s just nice to see you both here. i don’t think i’ve even seen him since that last time we all hung out a year ago. it’s been a while.”

your heart drops because she’s right—the last time she saw drew was when you were still together, a year ago.

leila just smiles, “well i’m glad you’re both here. theo and i were saying how we miss having you two around more often. it’s gonna be so fun, just like old times.”

you nod, the guilt wrapping itself tighter around your chest, making it hard to breathe to your own best friend. you manage to force another smile, but it feels brittle, like it could shatter at any second.

just then, drew catches your eye as you and leila continue your conversation. his grin falters for just a second when he sees you, like he knows what’s on your mind. and for a brief moment, you wonder if this whole charade is even worth it.

“yeah . . . just like old times.”

@rubixgsworld @itgirlbrina @thepopcultureaddict @samsmelodrama @kissfinalgirl @itsamegazaddysworld

[jmdbjk]

We are sure.

WARNING, SPOILERS.

I have no doubt that every now and then, especially in the beginning, at the end of a long day or when they are tasked with doing something they've never encountered... they look at each other and say ...

And it allows them to laugh it off. They said they were making memories they could look back on while doing their service. What a fantastic period of time they had to create these memories.

This ending scene of the last episode of Are You Sure? has changed the way I think about that moment of them from the Bangtan Bomb of their enlistment day.

On their enlistment day we were so sad and were convinced they were too. And they were. But at that time we had no idea the fun they had during these three fantastic trips, they ate some wonderful food, drank a lot of beer, saw sights they don't have time to see when they are traveling for promotions and performing, spent a lot of "just being" time together which is obviously something they enjoy doing.

And knowing that at the end of Jungkook's I Am Still documentary, there was a scene of him showing Jimin his shaved head... it's as close to seeing it all play out as we're ever going to get. Piece it all together and you have a clear picture of this strong connection they have with each other.

Like Hobi said in his recent Weverse letter, I hope Jimin and Jungkook have come to realize by now it will all be ok. 27 days left until Hobi is back. 8 months, 23 days until Jimin and Jungkook are back. 38 more Mondays.

And they gave us a tiny bit of hope that this isn't the end of Are You Sure.

Delulu time: They have a lot of time to scheme and plan a reboot. Planning the next trip can also help them have something to look forward to. Like Jin did, they can do a quick live at the Hybe building before jetting off to Bora Bora or Alaska to start filming the reboot of AYS. They can make it happen if they want to. It will be another ten days after their discharge before Yoongi is free too and the group can be one again. They can go away for a few days, get comfortable with cameras and civilian clothes again. Get busy, Universe! Please?

All along, Jungkook was expressing his love for these trips, his excitement for the experiences, his enthusiasm for the good food and his easy-going vibe because he's with someone who fits him so well. Jimin enjoys the vibe of being with Jungkook and enjoys watching Jungkook be immersed in everything that brings him joy. He said if we watched these episodes, this is what its like at home.

They made it clear there are no other people on earth either of them would rather be with than each other for these trips. Jungkook said it himself: these were the best trips of his life. Jimin teared up a little when it was time to head to the airport. This was a chapter closing in their lives. If it impacted them this much, they will for sure somehow try to do it again after military service.

Besides the fact the two loved creating this, the series has been ranking high in viewers which would help sway any decisions as to whether a reboot is worth the expense. Of course it is!

Questions: I guess the behind episodes will also be on Disney? Why would they be submitted for ratings if they were only going to be on BangtanTV? Or maybe they'll be on Weverse too?

With the purchase of the photo book, there is a digital code for 52 more minutes of footage. We'll begin seeing clips of that on Sept. 29 when people begin receiving their copies. Got mine! Can't wait for it to get here!

[blu3n]

hey so how do you think jason todd would deal with having a s/o who’s a sweet talker to him, does snarky teasing back to him, but can’t handle him being sweet to them? They have nice, in the moment sweet moments, but as soon as someone is sweet to them in a pointing something out about them and their relationship kind of way. They Hide behind a pillow and kind of whimper but they’re not sad. They can’t handle the romantic butterflies or they can’t find a pillow, they just smushed their face into his chest and just stay there 😂 . Also whenever someone brings up their relationship and it’s casual at first which is fine. But eventually they (probably dick or barbara) start wanting more intimate details and s/o is like “I’m going to bathroom” and darn they ran fast to that bathroom leaving Jason to defend himself? (S/o is usually ride or die with him no matter what. They don’t handle being embarrassed well 😂 ).

Hey, thanks for asking and sorry for taking so long

Jason would get a kick out of having an s/o who's playful and sweet to him, and loves the banter and back-and-forth between them. When you get flustered by Jason being sweet to you, he finds it cute and endearing. He loves to tease you, especially when you get all flustered and try to hide behind your pillow.

When it comes to others bringing up your relationship and asking for intimate details, Jason finds it annoying too, even though he's not embarrassed. He would probably get a kick out of you running off to hide in the bathroom.

Jason takes pride in the fact that you're always by his side and support him, and he wouldn't mind defending himself against the others trying to pry into your private relationships. He especially loves seeing you get embarrassed and flustered when he's being sweet to you, and it only feeds his desire to tease you even more. Overall, Jason values your relationship and loves having an s/o who can banter with him and keeps things lighthearted.

imagine, most of the time it's violence, blood, death, and the other time *you*, your sweet delicate and gentle girl.

When this happens, Jason usually knows the right words to say, whether it's "we keep our lives private so we don't like telling people who don't need to know these details" or "do you really want me to tell you?"

Jason knows how and when to shut someone up, besides finding your way adorable he would easily defend you.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Vibranium & Stainless Steel -Oneshot *Request*

Word count: 3203 Warnings: language, smut

Y/N was an Avenger.  Well, not like a big superhero type of Avenger.  She was mostly on the sidelines, and only called in when information extraction was needed.  Since Wanda was M.I.A. for the foreseeable future, Nick Fury had been on the hunt for someone who could read minds, and had sniffed Y/N out, a mutant, from some online mutant-safe chat rooms.  She had gone through some training, but overall she wasn’t needed in the field until the Avengers brought back bad guys as prisoners who refused to talk.

It was always a sight to behold when the bad guy would be plopped down on a chair in an interrogation room, looking warily at the room full of superheroes, then in would walk Y/N, a short, plump, bookish-looking woman with large glasses and an oversized dress and cardigan over top.  The bad guys would always scoff at her, until she touched their faces and dug around in their minds, finding everything the Avengers needed to know.

She loved being a part of something bigger, something that felt important.  And she was making new friends, some of them feeling as close as family.  The only problem she had came in the form of James Buchanan Barnes.  Boy was she glad he wasn’t the one who could read minds, otherwise she’d be utterly embarrassed on a daily basis.  Y/N never tried to read the Avengers minds, she had no reason to, and it felt like a huge invasion of privacy.  But every once in a while when she would stare at him too long she thought she noticed a hungry glance being thrown her way.  Surely it was a trick of her mind.

Y/N also could not stop staring at his vibranium arm.  The thing was a work of art, a technological masterpiece.  It fascinated her, intrigued her, and whenever he was close by if she wasn’t being distracted by his inhumanly attractive face, she was gobsmacked by his vibranium arm.  

Over time she noticed Bucky being closer to her, whether it was during group movie nights sitting next to her, staying close whenever they would bring in someone to have her read their mind, sitting at the kitchen table during meals, and he volunteered to give her gun training.  She decided to be brave and ask if he wanted to have a movie night in her room one day.  “You’ve gotta get updated with the best cinema of the last eighty years!” she exclaimed as she pulled up her online streaming accounts.

“And what great piece of cinematography are you going to educate me on?” Bucky laughed.

“Legally Blonde,” Y/N smirked as she looked at him and pressed play.  “Now pass the popcorn.”

As the movie progressed, Y/N was distracted once again, her eyes drifting from the screen to the metal arm that she had purposefully sat next to.  Bucky was leaned back against her headboard, smiling at one part of the movie, long legs stretching out on the bed and his hands intertwined on his stomach.  She eyed his metal arm as inconspicuously as she could.  The way it was formed, the metal manipulated to look like a human arm would, with the plates and divots following the natural lines of muscle that would normally be there was captivating.  The gold that peaked through the plates seemed to shine even in the dimly lit room, complimenting the dark gray color of the rest of the arm.  Her gaze strayed to his hand, matching in size to his flesh one, the smaller plates and glimpses of gold almost making it look, if she didn’t know better, like a really cool futuristic tattoo.  

He suddenly moved his metal arm and laid it flat between them on the bed.  “You can touch it if you want,” Bucky said quietly.

Y/N’s eyes snapped up to his face.  He wasn’t looking at her, still watching the movie, but he had a teasing grin pulling at his lips.  Y/N hung her head and started giggling, covering her face with her hands.  “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky laughed.  “It’s okay.  I get it, it’s a bit strange,” he said, finally looking down at his arm.  He turned it over and rolled his wrist, then flexed his fingers.

“It’s vibranium, right?” she asked.

“Yep.  Designed by Wakanda’s best,” he said, glancing at her.  

“Can you…feel with it?” Y/N asked, her hand slowly reaching out and running a finger along his forearm.

“In a weird way, yeah,” Bucky nodded.  “It’s more of a pressure thing.  I can tell that something or someone is touching me.  It’s hooked up to my nervous system somehow.  I don’t pretend to understand anything Shuri told me about it when they first gave it to me,” he snorted.

Y/N hummed, her finger moving closer to his wrist.  “Can it do anything?”

“Besides bash people’s heads in?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows.

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, we get it, you’re a big bad super soldier,” she scoffed.  “I mean does it have any features?  Like does it regulate temperature?  Or a hidden compartment for a gun in there?  Or rockets like the Iron Man suit?  Or–”

Bucky laughed loudly at that as he sat up and turned more to face her.  “No, but I wish!  I should talk to Shuri about that.”  He reached the hand out and took hold of her hand, putting her palm facing upright.  “It can regulate temperature,” he said, laying his palm on top of hers.  She felt it start to heat up a little and her eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Super strong, obviously,” he said.  “Vibranium can only be destroyed by other vibranium, so nearly indestructible.  And lately I found something weird,” he said with a frown.  He lifted his hand off of hers and held it up between them.  He focused on his fingers, and Y/N gasped as they started to vibrate.  “I don’t really know what that’s for, but it’s interesting,” he said, turning his hand over.

“That is…interesting,” Y/N said, gulping quickly as her thighs pressed together.  

Bucky hummed then the vibration stopped.  “Otherwise it functions like a regular arm.  I’m able to subconsciously do everything I do with my right hand.  I can also write with it,” he said with a lopsided smile.  “It makes me ambidextrous.”

“How funny,” Y/N smiled.  “Does it ever…hurt?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, his gaze meeting hers.

“Good,” she nodded.  They stared at each other for a moment before Y/N blinked rapidly and looked back at the TV.  “Oh!  Here’s the bend and snap!”

“The what?” Bucky scoffed.

***

After that movie night whenever Y/N and Bucky were together he would reach out and touch her with the metal arm.  It was always something playful, like tickling the back of her neck when her hair was up, gently pulling her hair when it was down, poking her anywhere she had exposed skin while he made his finger ice cold, which made her squeak one too many times in important meetings.

Then the touches became friendlier.  When she sat next to him on his left side he would rest the metal arm behind her on the couch, let her hold onto it during scary movies, then reach over and squeeze her knee or thigh randomly.  Y/N was brave again and randomly grabbed his hand, holding it and examining it while everyone was hanging out and talking one night.  She intertwined her fingers with his metal ones, ignoring his eyes on her as she paid attention to the conversation.  It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, holding onto metal, but he didn’t pull away, so she didn’t let go.  Bucky seemed to enjoy the fact that the arm didn’t scare or worry her, and that someone accepted that piece of him that was considered so dangerous.

Y/N’s fantasies and dreams got progressively more spicy after seeing his fingers vibrate.  She woke up in a sweat most mornings, her hips trembling as the last memories of her dreams riddled with Bucky’s vibranium hand between her legs would flit away.  Her staring got worse by the day, until one night while they were in his room hanging out Bucky’s metal fingers snapped in front of her face.

“Jesus, doll, did you hear anything I just said?” he asked, his eyes narrowed at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/N closed her eyes and shook her head.  “My mind has just been…elsewhere.”

“Does elsewhere have my metal arm as the star of the show?” he asked, arching his eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she could feel a deep blush painting her cheeks.  “What?  No, I, uh…” she floundered.  He gave her an unimpressed look and Y/N sighed, looking away.  “I’m sorry, Buck.  I shouldn’t stare.  It’s just really cool, beautiful even!  And ever since you showed me the features I’ve been thinking about how it would—” she cut herself off with a gasp, covering her mouth with her hands.

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows raised.  “How it would…what?” He asked, slightly tilting his head.

Y/N shook her head.  “Nothing, uh, forget it,” she said, sliding off his bed and backing away towards his door.  “I um, I gotta go do something, I forgot–”

Bucky quickly stood and walked toward her.  “How it would what, Y/N?” he said, making her back up faster.  She didn’t realize how close she already was to his door and backed into it loudly with a huff.  Bucky’s arms caged her against the door, his head dipping down to be eye level with her.  She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape as her breathing got heavier.  The look he was giving her was one she’d never seen before, at least not in real life.  His gaze flickered across her face, his own breathing becoming heavy.  “Answer me,” he grumbled.

Y/N swallowed harshly.  “H-how it would f-f-feel,” she stammered in a whisper.

“How it would feel…where?”  Bucky breathed, his head tilting again and eyes narrowing.

“On me,” Y/N replied.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.  “Are you always this infuriating?” he asked.  “Use your words, Y/N.  Be a big girl and tell me what it is you want.”

Y/N whined involuntarily and it made his eyes widen.  It was now or never.  “I want you to use your fingers as a vibrator on my clit,” she whispered in a shaky breath.  “I want to feel them inside me.  All over me.  I want y-you.”  Y/N slowly reached a shaking hand up and caressed his cheek.  “I l-like you…a lot.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of her fingers on his face.  Then his hands slid from the door to cup her face, his metal thumb sweeping across her cheek.  “I like you, too,” he breathed, then leaned down and kissed her fiercely.  

Y/N couldn’t hold back the moan that traveled up her throat at finally feeling his lips against hers.  Her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him close as he kissed her until she felt lightheaded.  Bucky’s metal fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and into her hair, forcing her head into a different angle to deepen the kiss.  His rougher treatment made her whimper against his mouth, and he opened his mouth to lick at her lower lip, then nip at it teasingly.  

Bucky licked into her mouth, tasting her tongue and groaning at how easily pliable she was being for him.  “Are you sure you want this, doll?” he asked quietly as he moved his kisses to her cheek then down her neck.  “I’m a bit of a mess.”

“My mess,” Y/N immediately responded.

Bucky huffed a laugh against her ear.  “Your mess,” he chuckled.  

Y/N’s hands felt him all over his back, his sides, and up his front.  Her fingers ran over something hard on his chest, and she followed the line of a chain up to his neck.  It was his dog tags.  She twisted the chain out from his shirt so she could grip the dog tags and pull him down harder as she kissed his mouth again.  Jesus, do I have a metal fetish? 

“Fuck!” Bucky growled.  His metal fingers fisted into her hair and tugged as he bit her lip harder then sucked on it.  Y/N whimpered again and he turned them both around and started walking towards his bed.  He released her hair and took a step back.  “Strip,” he commanded.

Y/N took off her clothes in record time.  Bucky looked her over slowly, the desire in his eyes making them look darker.  He took off his dog tags and hung them around Y/N’s neck.  The feeling of the metal hitting her sternum made her shiver.  He then gripped the chain like she had before and tugged her harshly towards him.  “Mine,” he grumbled.

“Yours,” Y/N nodded.

He then pushed her back onto the bed and she quickly crawled backwards until she was laying flat and watching him.  Bucky then started to slowly strip out of his clothes, his eyes never leaving her.  Once he was fully naked in front of her he started to crawl up the bed until he hovered over her.  He leaned on his flesh hand as his metal one reached up towards her mouth.  His fingers brushed over her lips, which she obediently opened.  “Get them wet for me, doll,” he said lowly.  Y/N nodded and sucked his fingers into her mouth.  She licked and sucked them heavily until he pulled them out of her mouth and brought them down in between her legs.  “That’s so hot, doll,” he said, looking down at her pussy.  “You’re good with your mouth, aren’t you?  Can’t wait to have you suck my cock soon.”

Y/N gasped then moaned as his metal fingers started slipping through her lower lips, rubbing her all over until they finally found her clit.  He rubbed it slowly, then looked at her face as his fingers started vibrating.  Her mouth dropped open in a silent moan, her fingers gripping the blanket beneath her for dear life.  The way the metal felt against her core was strangely addicting, with his fingers interchanging between warm and cool as he regulated the temperature while they vibrated on her clit.  He then left his thumb on her clit while the others dipped down until he could find her entrance, prodding one finger in, then another once he found how wet she was.  

“Oh my god!” she cried out.  “Buck…Bucky…I-I…fuck!”

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Bucky smirked.  “Is it how you imagined it would be?”

Y/N’s head thrashed as his fingers thrust back and forth into her, the vibrating as they curled against that spot deep inside making her see stars.  “Better,” she squeaked.  “So much better!”

Bucky smiled wide and leaned down to kiss her again.  Within a few moments his touches brought her over the edge and she squealed into his mouth, her hot breaths fanning his face.  She was shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her and brought them up to his mouth as he pulled away from the kiss, licking them clean and moaning at the taste of her.  “Goddamn, doll,” he said.  “Next time I’m gonna take my sweet time tasting you.  But right now I just need to be in you.”  Y/N nodded tiredly, still recovering from her orgasm.  He positioned himself in between her legs, lifting them up and over his hips as he gripped his cock with his flesh hand and pumped himself a few times then ran the tip of it through her wet lower lips.  “Do we need protection?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at her face.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, her pussy positively throbbing and begging to be filled.

“God I love this century,” he smiled.  Bucky started slowly pushing into Y/N and she shuddered, trying to breath through and adjust to the intoxicating stretch of his cock.  

“Bucky…” Y/N breathed as he finally bottomed out.  “You feel so good.”

“Fuck doll, you’re perfect,” Bucky huffed, his brow furrowed in concentration.  “Best pussy I’ve ever felt, holy shit…”

He leaned back down and started kissing and licking along her breasts, then slowly began his thrusts in and out of her.  Y/N felt like she was just trying not to lose her head, but was nearly delirious at how perfectly he fit inside her.  All she could focus on was him.  All she could see, feel, hear, and taste was him.  Bucky’s metal hand slid up her stomach and over her chest, tweaking whichever nipple he wasn’t currently sucking on.  It then slid up to her neck where he wrapped his fingers around her throat.  Her fingers gripped his metal wrist, her eyes widening as she stared up at him.  “Please,” she whispered.

Bucky watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort as he squeezed her throat.  He wouldn’t find any.  Y/N’s head tilted back, her eyes rolling back into her head as she gasped at the feeling of his fingers around her neck and the grounding effect it had while the restricting of her breath pushed her further into delirium.  “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned.  “Where have you been all my life, huh?”  He let go of her throat, letting her breathe normally again, but his metal hand went to the dog tags resting in the middle of her sternum, and pulled them so her head was forced up, meeting him halfway.  His hips picked up a frantic pace, skin slapping against skin, their combined panting breaths making the moment feel intensely intimate.  “You’re mine, you hear me?” he growled, his nose nuzzling hers.  The dichotomy of sweetness and possessiveness made her pussy flutter around him.  “Mine.”

“Yours,” Y/N promised, nuzzling him back, then kissing his metal knuckles.  “Mine.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m yours, all yours doll,” Bucky smirked.  He kissed her hard, and it was finally enough to have her cumming again.  She screamed into his mouth, her fingers scratching his back and her legs shaking.  Bucky shuddered as her pussy gripped him insanely tight.  He was right behind her, cumming deep inside her and rutting it further into her until she could feel it leaking down to her ass.  His kisses became lazy as his hips came to a stop and they both calmed down, heavy breaths being swallowed by the other as he continued to lick into her mouth to taste her repeatedly.  “Shit, Y/N,” he huffed, making her smile.  

“Right back at ‘ya, baby,” she grinned.

Bucky’s gaze was flicking around her face, memorizing the moment, his eyes twinkling.  “I like being your baby,” he murmured, his metal finger tracing along her cheeks and her nose.

She turned her head and kissed his metal finger.  He grabbed the dog tags again and held it up to her lips, and she kissed them.  “I like being your doll,” she replied.  

[evnseokz]

☆ wonbin and eating you out

pairing: down bad bf! wonbin x f. reader

contents: clingy wonbin, eating out, kissing, nipple play if u squint, body worship, wonbin is incredibly down bad for u and clingy af

synopsis: wonbin who’s absolutely down bad for u and is an absolute MUNCH also a fiend for eating u out like his plump lips on your core GODDD

just a drabble… (w.c. 889)

i imagine wonbin as the type of boyfriend to be so down bad and an absolute MUNCH for you. all he wants is to worship every fiber of your being. his love language is physical touch and so he always has to have his hands on you. whether his arm is snaked around your waist or his hand is in yours. he always has to be touching you.

you can’t even stand at the stove and cook without him having his arms wrapped around your waist as he presses himself against your back. for a lack of better word, he’s clingy. but you love him for it. “binnie, i’m trying to cook” you’d smile, he nestles his chin on your shoulder, angling his head to place a chaste kiss on your neck. “i know baby, you’re just so irresistible” he says, pulling you tighter against him. you finish up what you were making and turn the stove off. his arms being on you the entire time. you turn around in his grasp and look up at him, then place a quick kiss to his lips. he hums against your mouth, capturing you as you go to pull away, deepening the kiss. this time he breaks the kiss. “let me eat you out please? i need to taste you.” he begs, eyes glossy with desire. a blush creeps up to your cheeks, you cover your face with your hands, giggling slightly.

“you’re ridiculous” you tell him, swatting his shoulder. you bring your pointer finger to your chin and tap lightly, making it look like you’re thinking really hard about his offer. “i say, yes!” you smile at him, before wrapping your arms around his neck. he wastes no time, leaning back down and capturing your lips in his. he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as you hold onto him tightly. he carries you all the way to your shared bedroom, not breaking the kiss once until he goes to set you down on the bed. you back all the way up until your back hits the pillows, wonbin crawling his way towards you at the same time, meeting you there. he kisses your lips again before moving his way down your neck, biting and sucking lightly in some places. you moan softly at the feeling, his hand trails under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra while his lips works expertly against the skin of your neck.

small whimpers are leaving your lips, “bin, take it off please” you beg, he wastes no time pulling your shirt over your head, and unclasping your bra shortly after. lips immediately finding your nipples, spending time swirling his tongue around each of them. moans eliciting from your throat at the sensation, hands raking through his long locks. he groans slightly at the feeling, removing his lips from your chest, starting to trail kisses from the valley of your breasts and down your stomach, stopping right before the waistband of your shorts. “so perfect” he mumbles, beginning to unbutton your shorts.

he shimmies your shorts down your legs, tossing them somewhere on the floor before coming back up to meet your clothed heat. he spreads your legs slightly, dropping his head in between your legs, inhaling your sweet scent. he groans at the smell, his cock straining against his pants. “ah- bin that’s embarrassing” you say shyly, heat rising to your cheeks. “never baby, you smell so good” he replies, placing a quick kiss over your heat. you shudder slightly at the feeling. his fingers trail to your hipbones, dipping under the waistband of your underwear and sliding them down your legs.

he comes back up, and immediately gets to work, his mouth working expertly on your clit. your legs instinctively close round his head, your back arching up off the bed. his hand travels upwards, pressing firmly on your stomach as he holds you down. moans are falling past your lips, the pleasure being all too much. his mouth moves down slightly, licking a stripe up your cunt before coming back down to push his tongue into your hole. slowly fucking you with his tongue. you cry out, hands flying down to his hair, pulling tightly as moans fall out of your mouth. you feel your stomach tighten, your orgasm nearing. “i-im close” you manage to get out. moans becoming louder and more frequent. after hearing your words, wonbin moves his mouth back up to your clit sucking on it as he swirls his tongue around it. your hips buck into his mouth, legs beginning to shake as your orgasm rips through you, your whole body jolts as your eyes roll back in your head, wonbins name spilling from your lips over and over again. he continues his ministrations on your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. when you’ve had enough you pull his head up from your core, panting harshly as you try to catch your breath.

his plump lips are coated in your juices, the sight almost enough for you to cum again. he swirls his tongue around his lips, collecting every last drop of your juices before leaning down to kiss you again. you pull away, smiling at him, “thank you binnie, you’re so good to me, let me return the favor yeah?”

.

.

.

[cherubshert]

"I just want you to be there, sunghoon." You weakly say, your argument from earlier still heavy on your mind. The line goes silent, a sign that you take as your go ahead. "I want you to listen to me, I want to feel appreciated." You stare out your car window, the night wind brushing against your face, your tear stained cheeks felt raw after all the rubbing away tears you've done.

"I changed so much to accommodate you, but you run away from doing the same for me." "I'm sorry." he finally says, his voice cracking as he stares down at the cold tiles of your apartment hallway. He's been crying too, hours of worry evident on his face, this call being the only way you've allowed him to contact you the entire day.

You ignore his apology, starting your car. "I've been thinking, Sunghoon. Thinking about whether you still love me." He panics, straightening his back against the wall. "I do, I love you so much." "Everything you do says otherwise."

"We're not the same anymore, you barely spend any time with me, barely speak to me, and turn away in disgust at the mere thought. And when I try to bring it up, you scream at me." You pause, "Does that sound loving?" he doesn't answer.

"Let's take a break." "No, please, I..." "Let me speak, Let's take a break, I don't want to endure the pain of watching your love fade, more than it obviously has. I want you to see if you still love me, like you're lying to yourself that you do. When we both conclude our feelings, we'll see what happens to us." His sobs bouce through the speaker to your heart, "Bye Sunghoon."

[stitchedcosmos]

Abt the Orcatstra stuff

TLDR: I've looked through their posts as well as others and I can't find any proof they did anything wrong. Orca making NSFW art, saying they don't like a ship and blocking people who like that ship is completely normal and you shouldn't take it personally.

Long ver:

People in the DSAF fandom (mainly Tumblr) are freaking out about a take Orcatstra made on shipping Jack with Harry, Jake and/or Rodger, allegedly harassing people who ship them, one case being running a 14/15-year-old off the website and making NSFW art, mainly gore.

About the ship: I think Orcatstra's take is completely understandable. "Oh but the phone can leave" and "Oh but he treats them well in the Good ending" doesn't matter. At the end of the day, whether he treats them well or not is completely irrelevant. Jack can choose at any time whether they live or die. When he fires them, they get murdered. He has power over them and that is a power imbalance that a lot of people are going to be uncomfortable with. In cases like Dave, Matt, Steven or Henry, if things don't go well between the two, they have the ability to leave with no fear of something bad happening to them. The phones on the other hand, could get fired (die) if they're not on Jack's good side with just a simple phone call. Even if they left, they literally mention Afton Robotics hunting down escaped phone guys and a simple phone call telling AR one's gone rouge is all it takes. Doing this after getting pissed off by them or whatever, is completely in character for Jack to do (especially legacy). People bring up that Jack treats them well in the good ending but how about all the other routes? Especially in the Legacy routes, Jack treats them like shit and actively uses this power imbalance against them on multiple occasions. People bring up Davesport as a retort to this, bringing up how utterly devoted Dave can be, but Dave when treated like this usually fights back or distances himself away from him, neither is something the phones can do without fear of getting killed. At the end of the day, it all comes down to how you headcanon Jack to act, but the power imbalance is definitely enough to put a lot of people off. Also, as a POC myself, I don't think them saying it felt like "Owner x Slave" to them, was racist.

About the blocking: Blocking people is something people are allowed to do for whatever reason they like. If someone posts content you don't like, the normal response most people have is to block them. Whether you feel the block is "deserved" or not, doesn't matter. Hell, sometimes I block people over a single post or comment they make because I simply disagree with it so much. Blocking people is completely okay under literally any circumstance.

About harassment: I have found no proof of this. Seriously. I've looked through multiple people's accounts, including Orca's and have found nothing. I'm even seeing people ask for proof and being told the person has none. the dsaf confessions account keeps getting brought up as proof of someone who got harassed but looking at both their posts and Orca's, from what I've seen, no harassment happened. From what I can tell, all of this is a complete misunderstanding where Orca talking about not liking the account got interpreted as Orca bullying them. If they don't like them and want to post about not liking them, they have the right to do that.

Edit: Just remembered this so I’ll quickly add it now, people are shouting at orca 4 “harassing a minor” but they’re a minor themselves.

About NSFW: They're allowed to draw it. DSAF is an NSFW series and therefore has A LOT of NSFW topics, subjects, scenes and characters in it. If someone wants to draw that, they have the right to. If you don't like it, block them. Some people are saying they should tag their gore art and while I personally agree with that, if they don't want to, they have every right not to. It's their blog and if you don't like it, just block them and move on. "But what if a child sees it" on Tumblr, you can only see what you search up or are personally interested in, a child shouldn't be looking at DSAF-related content in the first place because, again, it is an NSFW series.

Overall, my thoughts on the matter are... *drum roll*

It's not that serious and the block button is free. If you don't like someone, what they're doing, what they're posting, block them. It's that simple and getting blocked doesn't mean anything. This situation, as well as others like it, are making me fear that most of you aren't old enough to even know what DSAF is, let alone be in the fandom.

[mika-no-sekai-blog]

Heya love,

Thank you for taking my request! I hardly think you can ever disappoint!

So, Autumn Court is a rather traditional court, and we know how discriminating against females it is.

Picture Rhys and the IC being invited to Autumn for whatever reason may it be. There, he decides to wander through the grounds. Somewhere in a secured area within the forest, he finds a female sitting by herself—too gentle and demure to belong to Autumn.

She’s shy in her discourse and neglects to tell him who she is. Eris pops up suddenly and pries the female away from him in a manner that’s too protective and possessive to be friendly.

Later on, Rhys realizes that this young female is Beron’s only, and youngest daughter. Secluded from prying eyes, Beron has made sure no one knew who she is until he was ready to marry her off.

But when Rhys finds out, and the mating bond snaps for him, he’s ready to fight for her. Going as far as to ask for Eris’ help, who happens to be extremely close and protective of his baby sister.

I hope that was clear enough and not at all confusing. Take your time with it, love! And feel free to change any detail you deem necessary.

Thanks again🩷

This

Is

Perfect!!!!

Thank you so much🤩💕I love it so much that the story started to play in my head on its own and continued even in the dream. Hopefully, you'll like it

Moon princess

Word count: 9600+ (oops)

Warnings: mentions of Beron, court machinations, swear words, but no fights and no blood this time

I'm thinking about writing another part where they are slowly getting to know each other. Which I originaly wanted to add into this one, but tumblr stopped cooperating somewhere around 5k words in, messes up with saved text and takes forever to respond. Message is clear, I guess I have again too many WIPs in drafts. It happens all the time 🙄 Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Rhysand threw the pen on the desk and sighing leaned back in his big leather chair. Since early morning he was sitting in the office, writing letters, reading reports and sorting out complaints according to the urgency. It was already past lunchtime, but he didn't get even half through all the documents. He needed some distraction at least for few minutes.

In the very nick of time, the doors flew open and Cassian casually strode in, a massive sandwich in one hand, a piece of paper in the other one. He held only the corner of it between index finger and thumb, glaring at it as if someone had used it as a tissue.

"So.. What are we going to do with the invitation?" he asked with a full mouth.

"What invitation?" Rhys looked up, tired. This was hardly the kind of distraction he wished for.

"This one," general waved the paper. He flopped down to the chair on the opposite side of the desk. "From the Autumn Court."

Rhysand frowned. "I got invitation?" he asked with feigned calm.

"Yup," Cassian took another bite from his sandwich, a bit of dressing dripped on his shirt, but he didn't seem to even notice it. Rhys' mouth twitched.

"Oh, really? And remind me, when exactly did I get it?"

"Few weeks ago. Helion also got one. He wants to know what we assume about it and whether we will accept or no. He's still waiting for the answer by the way."

Rhysand raised brows at him. "So you wrote to Helion."

"Nope, he wrote to you right after getting it."

That was the last drop. Closing eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply. "I think that we already talked about this at least a million times before, Cass. You can't take my mail, open it, read it and then keep it in your room."

Cassian threw up his hands and the dressing and slice of tomato flew out of the sandwich, landing on Rhys' expensive carpet. Rhysand eyed the stain, blood boiling in his veins.

"I don't do anything like that, bro! You know me. Plus, I don't remember that we've ever talked about such rule."

"That isn't rule I made up. It's called postal secret and privacy. Now bring all my mail! Immediately!"

"Fine, fine," Cassian fumed and rolled his eyes, but at last he stood up, throwing the invitation on the desk and left.

When the doors closed behind him, Rhys flicked his wrist and stain from the carpet disappeared. Then he reached for the invitation and cursed because it was smeared with dressing, too. Rhys licked his dirty fingers, commendably humming and wiped the rest of the dirt with tissue. His stomach loudly rumbled, reminding him that he should head out for some food soon.

He unfolded the paper, quickly scanning the text. Beron was inviting him and his family to a week of festivities on the occasion of a significant announcement. There wasn't written anything else, no more details. Rhysand sighed heavily, drumming with the fingers. His brain coils were working at full speed.

'Significant announcement'

What could it be? Considering that it was Beron, it couldn't be anything good. Because of Cassian, they had last two days left to prepare. He needed to know at least what to expect, so he could work up some plan later.

Azriel?

Claws of his power knocked on Azriel's mental shields. He answered right away, letting him in.

What?

Where are you now? Are you busy?

I'm preparing for the mission we talked about yesterday.

Rhysand considered it for moment, biting on his lower lip. Forget that thing for now or entrust it to someone else. This is urgent.

Azriel answered without hesitation. Fine. Are you in your office?

Rhysand loved how pragmatic Shadowsinger was. No questions. All he needed to hear to drop current job was that it was urgent. He didn't question him. Yes.

I'll be there in a minute.

When Az arrived, half hidden in his shadows as usual, he showed him the invitation and explained the situation. Azriel actually laughed when he heard how Cassian came, asking what was the plan. After that, he immediately disappeared in his shadows, heading to contact the spies they had in Autumn Court.

As expected, Azriel returned shorty before they were supposed to leave for the party. His spies didn't know much, only that Beron was secretly planning something big, the wards around his castle were strengthened and that the frequency of the correspondence between him and Spring Court increased in last two months. There was no time to contact spies in Spring whether they knew something more. Azriel planned to use the time they would spend in the Forest House to spy on Beron and learn more.

It was decided that only Rhys, Az and Cass would go. He didn't even try to ask Mor because he already knew the answer. However, he asked Amren and she clearly refused. She literally said that she would rather give up all her jewellery than listen to a single word of that old, pathetic excuse of a male.

Rhysand winnowed them to the Autumn Court close to the borders of the High Lord's estate. As soon as the world around them stilled, the brisk smell of autumn hit their noses. At gates, a dozen of soldiers stood on guard, armed to the teeth. They eyed them suspiciously, but let them pass. The three of them exchanged look as they stepped in, feeling the strong pressure.

"Putting up so strong wards and then inviting guests, one would think that your High Lord is planning something evil or he got himself a gem of size of his head," Rhys purred, but none of the soldiers even as much as blinked. Pursing lips he nodded. "Sharp guys. I wonder if they would stay still even if we started cutting off their limbs."

"I'm sure they would scream like females," Cassian grinned, folding arms on his chest.

"Are you trying to terrorise our guards, Rhysand?" a sly, bored voice spoke from somewhere behind them. They slowly turned around, arrogant as ever.

"Eris," Rhysand flashed his best cocky smile and shoved hands into pockets. "We are just merely testing them. Since when are heirs on the duty to come to the gates and welcome guests?"

"Ever since the so-called guests are mutts from Night Court," he snarled back, picking non-existent dirt from under fingernails.

Azriel was as always calm and composed, avoiding any attention, but Cassian was his opposite. He straightened up to his full height, squaring his shoulders and gritting teeth. "It's a good custom for the host to respect the guests, especially if they were invited, not to insult them. In Autumn, good manners seem not to be taught though."

Eris didn't react, only scoffed. He turned on the heel and started to walk towards the castle surrounded by reds and yellows. He showed them to their chambers connected by private sitting room, briefly informing them about the time of the evening party and that someone would come to show them the way later.

With a free access to the castle, Azriel didn't waste a minute and as soon as Eris left, he disappeared into the shadows to snoop around.

The party took place in a fancy ballroom. Rhys snorted at the sight of pure opulence, shoving hands into his pockets. Everything in this huge room was made of white marble with gold details, including a high vault ceiling. It was so polished that it looked like a mirror.

Autumn aristocracy and several of the High Lords were already here, so Rhys made a show of checking his appearance, keeping his mask of ruthless arrogance.

He had to admit that Beron knew how to show off his wealth. Massive golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling, flooding room with bright light. In the vases next to each marble pillar around the perimeter of the room were big bouquets of flowers made out of gold and copper. The start of the party was planned for the sunset, so the whole room looked like made of gold. Amren would love this for sure.

Rhysand wouldn't let it show on his face, but inside he felt sick. It was overdone and suffocating. And he wasn't the only one who felt that way. Cassian was openly showing his disgust, Azriel scanned the surrounding from under his frowning brows, arms crossed on his chest.

"Finally some friendly faces and my favourite ones," a rich playful voice boomed on their left. Azriel rolled his eyes, not bothering to even look at the coming person and murmuring something about the need of a strong drink, he left. Rhysand with a cocky smile turned in time to see Helion, the High Lord of Day Court, giving a hug to Cassian.

"Good to see you, friend," he purred.

Helion hooked a muscular arm around his shoulders and winked. "What do you say about the host's taste?" he pointed with his chin to the ballroom, speaking lowly only for his ears.

"I say you must feel like home here," Rhys snorted.

Helion pursed his full lips, thinking about it. "Not really. But the drinks are good here," he swirled the golden liquid in his glass and waved them, already heading to the crowd. "I hope to see you later in the privacy of your room, so we can catch up."

Rhysand gave him just nod and his eyes turned to the dais in the same moment as High Lord of Autumn with his wife and sons appeared. Rhysand tried to keep his face emotionless as his eyes fell to the Lady of Autumn. He hated to see the visibly mistreated female, something about her reminding him of his late mother even though unlike Lady of Autumn she was strong and wild and didn't let his father to treat her badly. Maybe it was the motherly vibes they both shared.

He rather averted his gaze to the gathered crowd and half listening to Beron's speech, let his powers lurk around, looking for any useful information he could get from these people. His violet-blue eyes searched for Tamlin, the High Lord of Spring, between the High Lords. Maybe if he played it off well, he could find out more about the business Autumn and Spring were cooking up, but his golden hair and tall figure were nowhere to be seen.

Meanwhile, Beron finished his boring speech with a promise of the big announcement on the end of this week of festivities. Rhysand despised the idea of waiting for the whole week. He needed to know what was going on in order the prepare for it, eventually come up with plan to sabotage it. The sooner he knew, the better.

He tried to find Azriel's mind in the crowd to give him orders, but with satisfaction he realized that Shadowsinger wasn't anywhere nearby, most likely already snooping around High Lord's quarters where he intended to send him. That male was a real workaholic.

As the evening progressed, Rhysand got even more bored. Chat with other invited High Lords led to nothing as none of them wanted to discuss anything of real importance at place where they could be easily heard by wrong persons. Cassian was cleaning plates, Azriel was who-knows-where and even Eris seemed to slip out to the night.

In need of fresh, cool air he moved to the terrace and then down to the gardens, looking for a quiet, dark corner where he could blow out the steam. The sounds of party slowly grew distant, number of guests on an evening stroll decreased. Rhysand didn't want to be disturbed, so he walked more deeper into the dark gardens. Thinking that he found the secluded place he needed, he looked around, noticing guards pacing on the edge where gardens turned into a forest. That piqued his interest. What could possibly be worth of guarding in the forest?

He merged with the night, getting pass the guards unnoticed. It was too easy and thus it was no fun. He hoped for at least a small hitch to make tonight interesting. Hopefully, whatever was hidden there, would be worth of the effort and provide him with some sort of excitement.

He dragged through the forest looking right and left, searching for something that didn't fit in. After half an hour he was ready to call it off, marking it as a great waste of time, when he noticed a soft light behind the thick bush. Carefully stalking closer, he stayed hidden in the darkness of autumn forest and took a look around.

There, hidden behind bushes and trees, spread out a clearing bathing in the cool silver light of full moon and in the middle of that on a fallen tree trunk sat the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. Her petite figure with soft features and porcelain skin glowed in the night. Dark brown silky hair fell in waves to her tiny waist. Dressed up in light, white dress that reflected the moonlight, surrounded by hundreds of fireflies, the small female looked like being of another world. Devouring that fragile beauty, he suddenly remembered the bedtime story mother used to tell him, his most favourite one. How could he forget it?

The story was about Moon Princess who spent her entire life, night after night watching Fae live, dance, laugh and love. Her desire to spend at least one day with them and experience the same things they did, grew so strong that she got sick, slowly fading away. When her father, Moon King, learnt about her desire, he decided to grant her her wish in order to save life of his only daughter. And so Moon Princess descended from the moon to the clearing in the deep forest, instantly feeling better.

At that time, young prince happened to be in the forest on his way back home, witnessing her descent. He immediately fell in love with her and took her to his castle. Gradually, she fell in love with the prince, but when the month her father granted her was coming to its end, she became sad and again fell ill. Her father couldn't stand to see his daughter suffer so much and allowed her to stay with her prince. After some time they got married, had a lot of children and grew old together.

When Rhys was younger, he dreamt about finding his own Moon Princess and having his happily ever after with her. Seeing this gentle creature in the woods now, he felt like he was witness of descent of Moon Princess he waited for. She took the air from his lungs and captivated his heart. Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped out from the shadows. Not wanting to scare her off, he cleared his throat, making as much noise as possible on his way to the fallen trunk.

Despite his efforts, she winced, covering lips like petal of rose flower with her delicate hands with elegant long fingers. Her doe eyes of colour of deepest sea gazed up at him. Recovering from the initial shock, she blushed, readying to run away.

"Don't! Please, stay. I mean no harm," he raised both of his hands, trying to calm her down. She was like a frightened animal. Rhysand assumed it would be for the best if he introduced himself.

"I'm Rhysand and I'm guest of the High Lord of Autumn. I was just on a walk when I noticed you sitting here alone. Are you lost?"

She shook her head, avoiding his gaze.

"What Court are you from? I happen to know all High Lords. I can help you get to the right one."

"I'm.. from here," she spoke shyly, her voice sounded to him like the sweetest melody. He swallowed hard, his palms sweating. What was wrong with him? He was feared High Lord who had more lovers in his life than he could count, yet he felt like inexperienced youngling.

"Can.. can I sit down here with you?" he asked out of breath.

How pathetic, Rhysand, he scolded himself. You finally found female of your dreams and you behave like total idiot. Bravo! She will certainly fall for you and agree to meet you again. You need to come with something better than this.

She bit on her lower lip, considering it, but at last she nodded, moving as far from him as she could. Rhys put on his most dazzling and kindest smile and sat down next to her. She blushed even more.

"The moon tonight is beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes, my lord, I suppose it is."

Rhysand snorted. "I'm not your lord. Please, call me Rhysand or just Rhys if you want. How should I call you?"

Female nervously fidgeted her fingers. "I think I should go." She was about to stand up.

Rhys' hand shot up instinctively, his fingers firmly but gently wrapped around her wrist. Mother above, she was so small and fragile like a porcelain doll. "Please, stay. I understand. No names."

She weakly twisted her wrist in his grasp and he let her go. She sat back down and Rhys sighed with relief, licking his lips. He wanted to make her speak more, yearning to listen to her voice from now until the end of his life.

"Do you come out here often?"

"I'm not allowed to go out much," she whispered hardly audibly, her shoulders slumped.

"How so?" Rhys asked with concern, his gaze again roaming over her petite body. However, he didn't get the answer.

Eris emerged from between the trees, his features twisted in anger.

"What are you doing here?" he hissed and taking female's hand yanked her to his chest. He looked her up and down, checking her for any injury quite roughly.

"Hey! Stop treating her like that! You are hurting her, asshole," Rhysand couldn't stop himself, his mask naturally slid down to its place and he was again fearsome High Lord. He stood up baring his teeth, ready to fight him off if necessary. He wouldn't mind to even kill him to protect this Moon Princess, as he decided to call her until she told him her name, and maybe even after that.

Female's eyes widened at him, but she didn't dare to say a word.

"How did you get here, Rhysand?! This is a private place where guests aren't allowed. If anything, the fact that guards stand at entrance to the forest, should make it more than clear."

"And you," he turned to the female. "What did you do here with this bastard? Why didn't you immediately leave when he appeared? If he finds out what happened here, we both will have a serious problem! Do you even understand that?"

"I'm so sorry. I wanted to leave, but.." she mumbled, cringing, her face pale.

"But what?! Return to your room! Now!"

"I don't know and don't even care who she is to you, but I won't allow you to talk like that with her," Rhys grabbed front of Eris's shirt, staring him down. He was only a few inches taller than the Autumn heir, though the effect was the same.

Female gaped at him in shock, but as soon as Eris let go of her arm, she backed few steps, then turned around and ran away. Rhys wanted to ran after her to make sure she wasn't hurt, but he banned himself to even move. His outburst was bad enough, giving out too much.

They stared at each other, heaving.

"Back off, Rhysand!" Eris snarled lowly.

"No!" he growled back. "Who is she?"

"That's none of your business," Eris glared at him, unmoved.

"Now when I met her, it is my business. I won't just stand by and watch someone hurt females for absolutely no reason."

Pushing him away, Eris burst into fit of laughter. "Good joke, Rhysand, really. Maybe you should clean up your own yard before you start poking your nose into other people's affairs." With that he left, heading in the same direction as the female.

Rhys just stood there, taken aback, gazing after his receding back. He didn't want to admit it, but Eris was right. There was still too much to improve in his Court, but that didn't mean Eris had any right to point it out. In this regard, Autumn wasn't any better than Night.

Later that night Rhysand was pacing in their sitting room, while Azriel and Cassian watched him from couch with concern.

"Don't you want to finally tell us where you disappeared?" Cassian groaned, sipping his drink.

"Did you find anything out?" Azriel added. Ever since he returned he was frowning, angry that he not only couldn't find anything useful, but also that Beron's office and chambers were so warded that he wouldn't be able to get in even if he had a whole month for it.

"Nothing like that," Rhysand growled. The thought of the female and her scared gaze where eating him up. He needed to see her, to make sure she was all right. But where to look for her? Then his gaze fell to his brother, half hidden in his shadows. If anyone was able to find her, then only he.

"Fine, so listen up," he groaned. While still pacing back and forth, he told them everything about his encounter with her and described every detail he remembered.

Azriel listened him attentively, nodding at last. "I will look for her while spying around. But I have to warn you - don't keep high hopes. There's an entire part of castle where I nor my spies couldn't infiltrate no matter how many times we tried it. And we work on that for years. If she is held captive in this castle, they can keep her there."

Rhysand sighed and ran hand through his hair. Eris knew her, but he wouldn't tell him anything. Could she be his lover? Or some secret fiancée? Wife? Or she belonged to another Vanserra? Just imagining that such fragile, young female was here to satisfy Beron's needs made him feel sick.

He needed to calm down, to do something to change the flow of thoughts, so he stepped to the bar and poured a glass of whiskey. He emptied the glass in one gulp, the liquor burning his throat. He grimaced and poured himself another glass. He sat down.

Cassian and Azriel started to discuss something, but he couldn't focus on their words even if he wanted. He could still see her in front of him, surrounded by silver moonlight, beautiful and so unearthly. He was only snapped out of the memory when Cassian put his big hand on his knee.

"Stop it," he muttered in amusement. "It's nerve-wracking when you nonstop tap your foot. Even Azriel here is getting nervous because of you."

"I don't-"

"You do," Azriel nodded, corners of his mouth twitching. With raised brow he looked at Cassian. "What do you think? Finally?"

"Finally," general agreed.

Rhys was confused. "Finally what?" he snapped.

"You are in love," Cassian howled with laughter and Azriel joined him shortly.

"I'm not in love. I'm just worried," Rhysand retorted, crossing hands on his chest and almost tipped the drink on his expensive shirt.

"And now he's even blushing like an innocent schoolgirl," Cassian was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"What's so funny?" Helion appeared on the threshold, light smile playing on his lips.

"Nothing. They are just two bored idiots," Rhysand groaned. Helion was the last person he wanted to find out about his encounter. High Lord of Day was the worst gossiper in entire Prythian.

"Oh, c'mon. I want to laugh, too. I'm bored here. This is the worst Court to be in."

"Because you would like to make out with a certain lady who is out of your reach?" Rhysand grinned. This lifted his spirit a bit.

Helion groaned, flopping onto other couch. "Don't even remind me of that matter."

To that Cassian started to laugh even harder.

Helion frowned at him. "Is he okay?" Rhysand only shook his head.

"Two lovesick birds," Cassian tried to calm down, Azriel next to him was massaging his hurting cheeks. He hadn't laughed so much in ages.

Helion watched them with wolfish grin and shiny eyes. "Idiots or no, I'd love to see them worn out in my bed anyway."

Azriel stopped smiling immediately, the idea had never been to his taste. Cassian just shrugged. "Maybe some other time, but thanks," he playfully winked at Lord of Day who obscenely ran teeth over his lower lip.

"I'm already waiting for the day."

Rhysand cleared his throat, grinning. "So.. Did you come for something specific or just to make obscene proposal to my brothers?"

"Actually, yes," Helion smiled, still undressing his long-term targets with eyes. "I and other High Lords are worried. You certainly already heard about something going on between Autumn and Spring."

"Sure, I did."

"I didn't see Tamlin at party tonight. I have quite bad feeling about this."

"Me too, friend," Rhysand swirled the golden liquor in the glass. "Me too."

"I guess that you don't have more detailed information on this matter that you could share with me."

"Unfortunately, I know just as much as you and the others. Azriel here is trying to find out something while we are here and his spies are snooping around in Spring, but we haven't heard anything new from them, have we?" He turned to Shadowsinger who only shook his head.

"But if you find out something, you will share it with us, right?"

"Of course I will. I can imagine only one scenario in which Beron is after the access to the Wall and human lands. We both know very well what it would mean."

"Do you think that Tamlin would allow such thing?" Cassian asked seriously.

"We can only hope that he has enough common sense to not allow it," Rhysand emptied his second glass.

The room fell into a heavy silence.

The week of festivities passed quickly. Beron prepared all kinds of activities to keep his guests entertained. Rhysand had stopped counting the number of hunts, competitions and banquets he absolved right after the first day.

Azriel spent most of the time in the shadows, spying all around the castle, following Beron like hound, but there were no news about the female nor the plans Lord of Autumn had.

Rhys started to have very bad feeling about this all and grew nervous with every passing day in dark. He kept his eyes on Eris who was obviously ignoring him, hoping he would make a mistake and take him to the female. However, Eris, the cunning fox, after the first ball never left the room, participating on every event from the beginning to the very end.

When it was finally time for the last ball, Rhysand was so nervous and irritated that even his brothers were avoiding the conversation with him. And he wasn't the only one. All gathered High Lords seemed to have enough of this shit show and masquerade, waiting only for the big announcement.

That evening, the atmosphere in the ballroom was suffocating, none of the Lords bothered to tune off their powers anymore. When Beron with his family appeared on the dais, five pairs of hostile eyes gazed at him from the crowd, waiting.

Thank you for coming and blah blah blah, Rhysand didn't really listen that old asshole, not until Tamlin appeared on the dais next to Beron who announced that they were intending to make an alliance together. Tamlin seemed to be taken aback to see everyone and to hear that they spent the whole week here, so apparently he wasn't invited for the shit show nor Beron bothered to notify him about the recent events.

"And to confirm my good intentions, my only daughter, Selene, will marry Tamlin," Beron declared.

The wave of shock ran through the crowd. As it seemed, even Autumn aristocracy didn't know about the existence of the mentioned daughter. High Lords looked at each other. Their worst fears had come true. Beron was after free access to the Wall.

However, right at that moment, it was the last thing Rhysand cared about. The doors behind Beron again opened and from the dark of the hallway a small figure emerged. Dressed in dress of moonlight colour with dark brown waves styled into a complicated hairstyle, his Moon Princess walked into the room. She looked up and their eyes locked. Exactly as that night in the forest, her beauty took all the air from his lungs, but it wasn't the only thing that happened at that moment.

Something inside him broke, the crack so loud everyone in the room had to hear it. And in that hole in the middle of his chest, a shimmering gold thread formed, blooming like a flower. The thread shot out, bridging over the entire room. Gently touching his Moon Princess, it wrapped around her and bound their souls together.

Rhysand watched it all with wide eyes and slightly opened mouth. As understanding hit him, he wavered and took a small step back, shocked. Beron's daughter was his mate. The Mother had a strange sense of humor, but in certain way it made sense. The feeling he had when he saw her on the clearing, the pull, the need to make sure she was safe. Of course she was his mate.

"What's going on?" Azriel, always the most attentive, as the only one noticed his moment of weakness.

Rhys couldn't take eyes off of her, barely managing to force his lungs to work again. "She's.. she's my.." He didn't need to finish the sentence.

Azriel's eyes also widened, jumping between him and the female. Even Cassian who overheard them, gaped at him.

"Are you sure?" Rhysand gave him a look and Azriel shook his head. "Of course, you are. Whatever you decide to do now, you can count on me," he said darkly, tendrils of shadows dancing around him.

"And on me," Cassian pat him on the back.

After the shocking announcement, the party was naturally over or at least for High Lords certainly, as they all left right away.

Helion stopped briefly at the doors of their chambers with grave expression to tell them that all the High Lords agreed that the wedding must not take place. For some reason they expected that the Night Court would take care of that, but they were ready to assist them if needed.

Honestly, Rhysand didn't remember much from what had happened after the bond snapped for him, not even how he got back home and to his bed. He lay there in the dark, unable to sleep, all the satin sheets suddenly too scratchy and insufferably hot. His mind was nonstop returning to the only thought - he had a mate and she needed his help.

He tried to analyse the moment when it snapped for him. He was curious whether she felt it too. Though, no matter how many times he replayed the scene in his head, he couldn't find a proof she felt it. Her eyes were sad, her expression shy and guarded. She walked into the room, stopped at Tamlin's side and accepted his waiting hand without a single wobble. She was shivering like leaf in the cold breeze, but all for the different reasons. At dawn he finally came to conclusion that she didn't know about the bond.

He kicked off the blanket and changed. He was determined to solve this problem as soon as possible. He wouldn't leave his mate in hands of any other male.

The Town House was completely silent when he ran down the stairs taking two at a time. The wedding was supposed to take place on the day of the autumnal equinox. That left him only a month to solve this. He didn't have much time and had to start right away. He rushed into his office, almost breaking the doors, and took a sheet of paper and a pen. Quickly he scratched letter and without reading it again sent it. He waited for the reply whole day, without leaving his office. He didn't even eat nor sleep. When there was no answer, next morning he wrote another letter.

Nobody came asking him what to do. His family already knew where they were needed the most. Azriel took all his spies and dividing them into two groups, he sent one group to Spring, the other one under his lead headed to Autumn.

Cassian collected all information and maps they had of the Forest House and looking for places where wedding could take place, he began preparing plans from kidnapping the bride before the ceremony to snatching her from groom's hands before they could say their yes.

Amren shut herself up in her apartment, searching old books with ancient magic for the ways how to break through wards.

For Mor, this was hard. She couldn't be much of help in this case, so she took it upon herself to take care of her cousin and made sure that he ate three times a day, took shower and tried to rest. She gladly accepted the role of an emotional support, listening to all his worries and self-loathing whenever he was in mood to talk.

On the fifth day when there was still no answer, Rhysand decided that he wouldn't wait any longer. He only had a limited amount of time and it was inexorably running out.

Without invitation he winnowed to the clearing near Tamlin's manor in Spring. As expected, it took only mere seconds and Tamlin appeared in his beast form, ready to turn the intruder into shreds. When he saw Rhysand waiting for him, he slowed down.

"What are you doing here?" he growled angrily. "I thought that not sending a reply is quite a clear answer."

"So you read the letters. I need to speak with you. You are doing enormous mistake-"

"That is not your business!"

"The problem is that it is my business. It's all High Lords' business, for the fuck's sake! You are going to open for Beron a way to the Wall!"

Tamlin snorted. "No, I'm not. I would do no such thing!"

"But yes, you are. Why else would Beron want to make an alliance with Spring?!"

"I can assure you that he won't get to the Wall."

"You are wrong and you know it. Whatever is going on, it won't take long and he will get what he wants."

Tamlin just gazed at him, muscles in his jaw ticking.

"What is it what you need so much that you are willing to work even with that old bastard, Tam?"

The beast's gaze wavered, but he wouldn't give in so easily.

"Tam, talk to me. We used to be friends and damn good friends. If it is a help you are looking for, I'll send you any kind of help. Do you need more soldier? You can have them. Money? Bride? Skilled officials to help you rule the Court? You can have it all, you just need to tell me. But don't go into alliance with Beron.."

Tamlin seemed to consider his offer. "I-.. I have tied hands.. I'm trying, but I shouldn't have been ruler.. I'm not built for state affairs. Everything is falling apart and now.. my advisers gave me an ultimatum.. They ask for heir otherwise they will leave me alone in this mess.."

Rhysand blinked in surprise at sudden honesty. With Tamlin, they had a lot of bad blood standing between them like a wall. Ever since Rhys' mother and sister were killed and he and his father killed Tamlin's family in return, they had hardly spoken. This was definitely progress or so he thought.

"I don't need your help, Rhysand," Tamlin murmured, "return to your Court before I make you." Tamlin pivoted, heading back into the forest.

Rhysand planned to solve this without mentioning Selene and the bond, but now there was no other way. Tamlin didn't want to listen and wouldn't accept his offer. This was the last thing that could change his mind.

"You can't marry her!" he called after Lord of Spring.

The beast stopped and looked back at him. "Why can't I?"

"Because.. she is mine."

Tamlin snorted, again moving.

"She's my mate." Rhys only whispered it, but the sweet spring breeze carried the words to his former friend. The beast halted in the middle of the step and fully turned to him. He searched him for any hint of lie, but when he found none, the emerald eyes widened.

"It snapped for me the moment she stepped into the ballroom and our eyes met. I think she doesn't know though," Rhysand continued quietly, hoping he would understand and cancel the wedding. All he needed, was more time to find a way to get her out of Autumn. He didn't ask for anything more. She didn't need to find out right away that he was her mate. He would be completely fine with only a friendship as long as he knew where she was and that she was safe.

Tamlin's eyes narrowed and darkened, one corner of his mouth lifted in a half grin. "Don't worry," he said lowly. "I'll take good care of her. She will have anything she wants and I will protect her. I promise you."

"But will she be happy? Without her mate?"

"If she doesn't know about that, I see no reason why she shouldn't be. One can't mourn something they don't even know that exists."

"Tamlin, you don't understand-"

"But I do understand," he interrupted him. "See you at the wedding. Or rather not. Now we don't want to try our luck, do we."

"Tamlin!"

"Get lost!"

Rhysand fought against the magic of wards that after the dismissal was forcing him to leave. He wasn't done here yet. However, not even a High Lord could stay in other Court if the Lord there expelled them. Unwillingly he winnowed back to his house.

He stood in the middle of his office, heaving heavily. Tears gathered in his eyes. He ran hand through his dark hair and then dragged it down his face. He looked around, searching for something that could ground him, finding nothing. He fell to his knees and yelled so loud that walls shook.

In a blink of eye Cassian appeared at his side and clumsily held him, checking him for injuries. He seemed to be relieved to find none.

"He refused," Rhys sobbed. "I told him and he refused.."

"I'm so sorry, Rhys," Cass spoke kindly. "But.. We will solve this. Don't worry. We all will do our best to get her out of there."

Next week Rhysand's mood was switching between being furious, coldly calculating and falling into depression. At the end of the week, Azriel returned and whole Inner Circle gathered to share all facts they knew and come with some solution. As far as they knew, Selene lived in warded part of the castle where only family members and chosen maids could enter. Azriel spent the whole two weeks trying to break in but to no avail. Amren also had no luck with her research. Wards were a complicated ancient magic and to break through so strong ones, they would need a very powerful and dangerous magical object like Cauldron that was lost for centuries and they didn't have time to look for it anyway.

Rhys only sat there, gloomy, listening. He was again falling into depression.

"What if we got help from the inside?" Cassian suggested, looking around the table.

"From Vanserras?" Azriel looked up. His hazel eyes lit up with idea and he turned to Rhys. "I think that it's quite good idea."

"Thanks," Cassian grinned.

"And who would you ask for help?" Mor rolled eyes. "Beron? His wife? Or his rogue sons?"

Azriel didn't pay any attention to her insults and continued. "I think that the heir would be willing to help us if we convinced him."

Rhysand finally looked up, frowning. "He told me that he doesn't want to see me anywhere near her."

"Exactly! Don't you see it? Who let her out during the party when Beron was too busy to notice it? Eris. Who was out there protecting her? Eris. Who is often visiting the warded quarters despite having chambers in a completely different part of the castle? The answer is again Eris. I'll bet that he goes there only to visit her. Several times a day actually."

"Why should he want to help us to kidnap her?" Rhys shook his head.

"Because he cares for her," Azriel answered simply, tilting head to the side in disbelieve that Rhysand didn't get it yet. "I heard that he isn't thrilled for the coming wedding."

Rhysand clenched hands into fists, thinking. During the last two weeks they had tried everything and nothing worked, even Tamlin laughed him out. There was nothing else they could do except of waiting until the wedding day and then try one of the risky plans Cassian had prepared for that case.

At last, he nodded. "Fine then. Can you deliver message to him?"

Azriel smiled. "Gladly. If you write it right now, he can get it tonight."

Two days later, Rhysand winnowed to the river bend on the border of his Court and hid into the shadows under the trees, waiting. He didn't have high expectations, he was avoiding the hope so as not to be disappointed in the end. The time ticked by while he watched flowing river, but in his mind he saw only her, his Moon Princess bathing in the silver moonlight with shiny big eyes and soft smile on her lips. He could keep watching her lovely profile forever. If that was all he was allowed in this lifetime, he would die a happy male.

Thirty minutes later another male winnowed to the same bend of the river, his red hair looked like blazing flames in the setting sun. He eyed the empty river bank and nearby tree line with arrogant, bored expression. He crossed hands on his chest, glaring into the waters.

Rhysand stepped from his hideaway, casually walking with hands in the pockets to the place where the other male waited at. "I already started to think that you won't come," he tried his usual cocky tone, but even to him it sounded fake.

"You are the one who wanted to meet up at this.. where are we actually?" Eris raised a brow, disgusted.

Rhysand shrugged. "Just old campsite. Nobody is coming here anymore, not after what happened here. Old story. The most important is that we can talk here without being overheard."

Eris clasped hands behind his back. "So? What is so urgent? I'm busy with wedding preparations as you know."

"That's the reason why I need to speak with you." Rhys swallowed hard. He was preparing for this discussion ever since Azriel left with his letter in the pocket. Despite everything he decided to be honest for once instead of making up lies. "That wedding must not take place."

Eris raised brows at him. "Why?"

"Because..," he tried to say it aloud, but couldn't, "it can't happen."

"Good try, but I don't have time for this. So if you don't have any good reason for this, I'm leaving." He pivoted.

"She's my mate."

"What?!" Eris turned back to him so fast that he almost slipped on the stones.

"You heard me. Selene, your sister, is my mate."

Eris just gaped at him, eyes wide, but at least he wasn't about to leave anymore.

"The wedding is the biggest mistake. I don't think she knows about the bond, but she won't be happy. You have to help me stop it."

Eris's mask slipped down for a moment and Rhysand noticed pain hidden beneath. "I can't. It's too late."

"It isn't. They aren't wed yet, there's still time."

"And what do you expect me to do? Do you want me to go to my father and tell him: hey, forget about the alliance with Spring, her mate resides on the other side of Prythian? That would 100% work."

Rhys rolled eyes. "No, just help me get her out of there. If there is no bride, there won't be wedding nor alliance. This will solve all the problems at once and nobody gets hurt."

Eris snorted. "And what about her? What will happen to my sister?"

"She can live here, in my Court. I'll protect her, give her home and take good care of her. You will be welcome to come visit her anytime you want."

Eris shook head in disbelieve. "You will keep her at your side like some sustained lover? No, in such case she's better in Spring with Tamlin. I saw them talking together and he was really kind and respectful to her. That's what she deserves, Rhysand. The respect. There might be no love between them yet, but it can change in the future. He will provide her with the same things you are offering, but he will make her his wife."

Horrified, Rhysand took a step back. "Lover? What? Don't put words into my mouth. She doesn't know about the bond and I won't push her into relationship with me. If she wishes so, we will be friends. She decides what we will be, not me. But if the bond snaps for her and she accepts it, I'll more than gladly marry her right away. In my Court, she will have freedom she never had and in marriage we will be equal. In everything."

He gave him a doubtful look, laughing. "Equal? Mother's tits! I won't believe such empty promises."

"These are no empty promises, I'm serious. Can you see me laughing? I'll make even a bargain with you. If she agrees to marry me, she will be my equal. I'll make her a High Lady."

"There is no such thing as High Lady." Eris stuck out chin, narrowing eyes.

"Then she will be the first one. Do you want to bet?"

"No, but I want that bargain."

"Fine," Rhys smiled for the first time since he learnt that his Moon Princess is doomed to marry another male. "So, what do you want in exchange for your help?"

Eris tilted head to the side, pressing lips into thin line. "Help for help. When the time comes, you will help me get rid of my father."

"We have a deal." After wording their vows, smell of magic filled the air and a small tattoo appeared on their bodies.

"Great that you agreed so easily. I was ready to get down on my knees if necessary," Rhysand grinned.

"That sounds like a lot of fun. Especially, in this awful state you are in. I think I'm going to change my mind."

"Good you can't," Lord of Night patted his shoulder with new tattoo.

Eris barked with laughter.

"Now tell me, just out of curiosity, is Selene really your sister or just half sister? It doesn't really matter to me, I'm asking because-"

"She looks so different?" Eris finished the sentence with fox grin. "She is my sister. Frankly, she looks like clone of father's great grand mother. I would show you her picture, but.."

"No need. I believe you."

Eris raised his brows doubtfully.

"How exactly do you imagine her abduction to take place? If your spymaster can so easily get into my chamber, I'd say you don't need me."

"Believe me when I say that we already tried to get to her. Unfortunately, not even my brilliant spymaster can get through your father's wards. That's why we need your help."

"I see. I'm relieved to hear there are wards that can stop you and your people."

"If we weren't in such time crunch, we would find way in for sure. But we don't have so much time now," he winked. "All I need from you is to get her out of the wards inside the castle. It really doesn't matter whether you take her to your room or to that clearing, as long as she will be somewhere where we can get to her."

Next hour or so they spent discussing the details of the abduction, so the both sides knew the exact meeting place, time and what to do. When Eris left, Rhysand return back home, feeling much better. In good mood he shared the plan with Cassian and Azriel who would go into the action with him. Now he just needed to wait for message from Eris. If he hadn't seen with his own two eyes how much young heir cared for his sister, he would doubt his intentions. This all was possible only thanks to the exceptionally strong sibling love and overprotectiveness. In moments like this Rhys thought about his own baby sister. What would it be like if she was still here?

Days were passing one after another without any news from the Autumn heir until finally four days before the wedding a small piece of paper appeared on Rhysand's desk. He opened it and skimmed a neatly written short message.

Cassian! Azriel! he called in his mind.

Ever since he made the deal, they were staying in their rooms in the Town House instead of the House of Wind, just in case they would need to quickly move on. It took them only a minute to get to his office. As soon as they appeared on threshold, he happily waved the paper in the air.

"Get ready! We leave an hour after sunset."

Exactly one hour after sunset Rhysand winnowed the three of them to the Autumn Court's borders, the rest of the way they had to fly to avoid being detected by the magic of the wards that Eris inconspicuously lifted for several minutes.

Thankfully, wards around the Forest House weren't so hard to get through and Azriel could safely get them in without any help. Under the cover of night, Rhysand led them through the grounds to the clearing where they were supposed to meet with Eris and Selene. They slipped past the patrol on their way, unnoticed. Just to make sure they weren't walking into a trap, they silently landed in the forest and went on foot the rest of the way. Hidden in the dark shadows under the trees, they waited.

Ten minutes later, Eris appeared on the clearing dimly lit by the waxing moon. And he wasn't alone. Holding his hand, a small figure walked behind him.

"Be careful here," Eris kindly warned his sister and she smiled in answer.

When they stopped in the middle of the clearing, Selene looked up on the moon, bathing in the silver light. With her long hair down and in the snow white dress, she was stunning. Meanwhile, Eris intently gazed into the night, his body tense. Rhys nodded to his brothers and moved forward. They assumed she would be less frightened if he went first. He let the dry twig to crack under his boot on purpose, notifying them of his arrival.

Both siblings turned in the same time. Tension in Eris's shoulders melted away, replaced by sadness. Selene seemed to recognize him and shyly hid behind her brother.

The males nodded in greeting. "Everything okay?"

"Nobody saw us."

"And Beron?"

"Some kind of troubles with goods for wedding in the port."

Selene watched their quiet exchange calmly from behind the brother's back, curiously peeking at Lord of Night. She didn't seem to be surprised by the turn of events at all.

Rhys nodded at last and leaning to the side to get a better view, he smiled at her.

"Hey there," he said so softy he surprised even himself. "Do you remember me?"

"Yes, my lord," Selene answered shyly and hid even more into brother's shadow.

Rhysand huffed in amusement. "I thought we already had this conversation, darling. Only Rhys for you."

Eris winced at the way he addressed his sister, but didn't say a word. Instead he took his sister's hand and pulled her from behind him. "It's okay, dear. He's here to take you.. to safety."

She looked up at him with her big bright eyes, waiting. "I'm sorry, Sel," Eris continued, "I can't let you marry Tamlin. I genuinely think that he would be a good husband to you, but you wouldn't be happy with him. That's why you have to.." He couldn't finish the sentence, his voice failed him. Rhys noticed the tears in his eyes and decided to ignore them for now. He understood how hard this must be for him.

"So you allow me to leave with my mate?" Her silent question made them both gape at her in shock. Eris recovered as first and smiled sadly. He reached into the pocket between the words and pulled out a bigger bag.

"I- I packed you some clothes for the start.. and a couple of your favourite things.."

"You know about the bond?" Rhysand's heart stuttered. He didn't expect that.

She met his gaze for a second and quickly shied away, blushing fiercely. "Since the night we met here," she took her brother's sleeve between fingers and stepped closer to him, partly hiding behind him.

Rhysand was so happy that he couldn't find words. He had so many questions that he didn't know where to start. Cassian and Azriel quietly approached them and Selene's eyes widened with fear.

"That's okay, they won't hurt anyone. They are my friends who came to help me get you safely to my Court," Rhys held out hands, explaining. "This is Cassian, General of my armies, and this is Azriel, Spymaster. They are big, clumsy and quite grumpy, but both are very kind-hearted, I assure you. We grew up together like brothers."

When introduced, Cassian grinned widely and waved at her, while Azriel put hand on his chest and slightly bowed.

Eris scoffed, rolling eyes.

"It's time. We should go before someone notices she's gone," Azriel murmured lowly. He was right. It was too risky to stay here for too long.

Rhysand cleared his throat nervously and offered her hand. "Can we?"

She looked up at her brother questioningly. Eris's jaw tightened as he turned to face her. At first he only held her hands, suppressing his feelings, but then he broke and pulled her into a hug. He whispered her something in the ear and tried to wipe his tears away stealthily while pretending to clean some dirt from her shoulder.

They parted and Selene walked over to Rhys' group, her cheeks wet.

Eris sadly watched as Rhysand gently picked her up and handed her bag to Azriel. "Everything is going to be fine. He will take good care of you.. I'll visit you soon," he looked at Rhys who nodded in agreement.

"Anytime you want."

"Oh, and take this," Eris reached into his pocket and handed her a blank sheet of paper. She turned it in fingers, confused. "It's enchanted. If you want to talk with me, just write on the paper and it will teleport to me. When I answer, it will return. If there would be any trouble with it.." His eyes moved to Lord of Night.

"I'll gladly help you with it or you can write a letter and Azriel will deliver it for you."

The mentioned one nodded in agreement and opened the bag so she could put it in.

"I'll miss you, brother," she sobbed.

"I already miss you. Stay safe." Eris stepped away, hardly keeping his tears back. He put on his cool mask of heir, but his amber eyes were giving him away.

"Thank you," Rhysand swallowed hard, hardly suppressing his own emotions. "When you are ready, let me know. I owe you for this. And don't worry. She will be safe and well cared of. I'll write you when we arrive."

Eris only nodded, fists clenched at his sides and retreated a few steps to give them enough space. Rhysand summoned his wings and carefully took off followed by his brothers. Selene watched Eris until trees obscured her view. Then she wiped her tears and rested head on his shoulder. It took him by surprise and for a moment he forgot how to use the wings.

"Sorry," he apologised for the shock and she hummed in answer. He exhaled shakily, again feeling like a youngling on the first date. "A-are you scared? Of flying?"

"No," she whispered between sobs.

Rhys tugged her closer to his body, gently rubbing her shoulder with thumb. "I know it's kind of scary for you. You don't know me nor my family, but I promise I'll do anything to make you happy. And the bond.. I won't pressure you. It's up to you-"

"I want the bond," she said firmly, interrupting him. "I saw that we will be happy."

"You did?" Rhysand raised a brow. Eris probably failed to mention that his baby sister was a seer.

"Sometimes I see little flashes of my future. I knew that you will come for me."

He huffed. "Of course you did. You are the Moon Princess after all."

"Who's Moon Princess?" She seemed to calm down at last and stopped crying, but she stayed hidden in the crook of his neck.

"Well, she's someone my mother used to tell me a story about. Do you want to hear it?"

She nodded and so Rhys started quietly whispering the story into her ear while they were sliding through the peaceful night sky, heading to their own 'happily ever after'.

[quirkwizard]

Give us the Enji rant, spell boy.

For the sake of context, this is a rant about how people interpret Enji as a character that I alluded to a while back. I understand that this is one of those hot button topics in the fanbase. All that I ask is that you hear me out.

The big issue about discussing Enji as a character is always going to be this miasma that surrounds him. It's hard to analyze him without his abuse hanging over it. Not in how it reflects or affects himself or others around him, but more in how all discussion begins and ends with it. It's to the point that I have to make it clear that I don't support or condone Endeavor. He's a pretty obviously terrible person, and the manga is very clear about it. However, fandoms have been able to ignore terrible things characters have done for analysis sake or even try to soften or redeem them in their own way. I don't even have to use outside media as an example. Tomura unapologetically killed untold thousands of people and threw an entire county into chaos, and fans were still wanted him to be redeemed. So why not Enji? I could bring up any number of reasons. Anything from how he's presented at the beginning of his series to having his actions affect fandom darlings like Shoto and Dabi to something like familial abuse being a lot more personal to more people. Seriously, it makes me wonder if instead Endeavor had just straight up killed some random villain and if that would be easier to forgive in people's eyes.

However, a lot of that is reductive and isn't getting at the heart of the issue. I think it comes down to fans simplifying or misinterpreting a lot about Enji as a character, especially in relation to his arc. And I'm not saying this in the sense of "these people are wrong and don't understand the story". It's just that miasama suffocates his story, to the point where it paints everything he does and how characters act around him in the eyes of the fans. Like how people just assume the worst about Enji at every point. Things like how he's racist, misogynistic, or has done things so bad that I hesitate to even allude to them. And it's something that distorts what his arc is. I do not think the story is saying to forgive your abusers. Because to me, Enji's story was never about forgiveness but atonement. Enji is trying to do right for his family and change who he is as a person. Whether or not people accept that is up to them. And when forgiveness is brought up, it's never about forgiveness for the sake of forgiveness. That people like Shoto aren't letting go to reconcile with Enji. They're doing it so they can move on with their lives. And I just want to be able to say stuff like that without being called an abuse apologist.

[thegamingcatmom]

Vampire!AU where Mother Miranda takes you as her bride.

...

That is all.

.

.

.

JK-

Right so:

Miranda is obv. the Vampire Queen or whatever.

Alcina and her daughters are vampires too, obv.

So are the maids that were canonically experimented on. (Miranda gotta have some numbers.)

Since we got vampires in there, we also gotta have werewolves, right?

-> Enter Heisenberg and his lycans.

Sal is the butler (aka: The heart and soul of the house, bless him).

Donna is...a mystery.

"The Mold" is basically Miranda´s nest

Eva is alive and kicking.

And a vampire too.

She can be...scary.

Just like Momma.

The "vessel" operation is still going strong. However-

It´s her long deceased wife Miri´s trying to bring back.

Reincarnation style, if you will.

Uhhh, what else...OH-

The villagers are under some sort of vampiric mind control (aka the mold?) that allows Miranda and her coven to feed on them undisturbed.

-> Enter MC (aka The Disturbance).

aka: The bane and salvation of Miranda´s existence.

Miranda is hooked right away for obv. reasons (points to the aforementioned wife thing).

(Eva will be overjoyed to learn her Mama has returned.)

She must have MC.

Their wedding shall be a grand celebration for the whole village to see.

A celebration fit for royalty, as it should-

MC: "Uhhh...excuse me?"

Miranda: *gradually snaps out of her frenzied inner monologue to blink at MC with a mix of confusion and reverence*

MC: "I´m looking for a dude called Heisen...*checks her palm* ...bur-BERG. HeisenBERG. Do you know where I can find him, by chance?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda: *remembers this is her soon-to-be bride*

Miranda: "Ah...forgive my...manners. *awkward smile cause being nice is indeed quite awkward, bride or not*...Heisenberg, you say? Why, yes...I am quite familiar with that...man."

Miranda: *fights back an instinctive hiss! cause werewolf*

...

MC: "...O-kay...? Can you tell me where I can find him, then?"

Miranda: *slow blinking*

MC: *slow blinking too*

Miranda, getting sus: "...And to what possible end, if I might ask?"

MC: *tf is that question*

MC, getting annoyed: "...Because I asked...?"

Miranda: *eye starts twitching as she fights back the urge to lash out at the sheer audacity-*

Miranda: *...soon.to.be.bride*

...

Miranda: "...Of course... *dark fake chuckle*...You shall find him in that factory of his. *points down the road* Follow this trail until it splits, then proceed to the right, where you will come across a large windmill. From there, it is rather impossible to miss."

Miranda, under her breath: "Unfortunately..."

MC, who is totally not weirded out by now: "...Okay...thanks. Uh...cya around?"

Miranda: *wedding bells*

Miranda: *satisfied smile starts spreading*

Miranda: "Hm...cya, indeed..."

MC: "..."

Miranda: "..."

MC: *slowly turns around and continues down the road*

Miranda: "...Little bat?"

MC: *stops in her tracks*

MC: *hesitantly turns around cause, despite being the only other person present besides Strange Lady, she still doubts whether that nickname was actually meant for her cause...whut?*

MC: "...Yes?"

Miranda: *satisfied smile becomes even more satisfied because her term of endearment has been accepted*

Miranda: *turns serious all of a sudden*

Miranda, doing her vampire compelling thing: "...Tell me."

MC, without hesitation: "He´s my uncle."

...

Miranda:

.

.

.

This was supposed to be a sexy vampire thing and then it turned into reincarnation & vampires vs werewolves with MC in the middle of it all cause our girl might just be the only one capable of uniting their worlds and ending a war that has been raging for centuries.

(Could this war have anything to do with a certain someone dying at the hands of a certain someone else? Good question. 🤔)

And it all starts with a (rather questionable) marriage.

THAT IS ALL.

.

This post was brought to you by The Invitation - a (rather poorly made) movie about vampires.

.

.

.

EDIT:

NO BUT LISTEN-

Miranda going "I'll take what is due", just like she did in Resi Village? Except what is "due" is her wife, who died at the hands of one of the lycans? Or even Heisenberg himself??

Miranda going "I've waited so long for you..." when she meets MC, just like she did in Shadows of Rose when she met Rose??

THOUGHTS FEELS IDEAS 😭

(Dammit, I might actually have to write it now cause I am OBSESSED. 😩🤌)

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 20

God In Distress | Loki x Reader

Loki wakes up in an unexpected place while the court of New Asgard plans an attack.

Warnings: Kidnapping, angst, a touch of whump and reader being both scared and embracing her new position. A for angst.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Series Masterlist | Loki Masterlist | Masterlist

Loki woke to a pounding headache thrumming behind his eyes. He cracked one lid open and promptly closed it again against the bright overhead lights. With a groan he rolled over, placing pressure on his right side and forcing the air out of his lungs from the pain. There was a smear of blood below him, but whatever injury he’d sustained had clearly been patched despite his lack of access to his healing powers.  

He could barely remember what happened, he knew he’d been enjoying a night at The Dog and Bilgesnipe, ever protected from the increasing tourists with a simple illusion that caused Loki no end of joy to have been able to enact. 

You had been there, his Asynja, effervescent as always in the company of his friends, old and new, chatting away with Jane and Val, drinking probably a little too much. He had been playing cards with friends, carried away by the easy camaraderie of the village as everyone settled into their routines and the easing of pressures over the holidays. He certainly did not remember starting any bar fights, that was more his brother’s realm of entertainment. 

Loki cracked his eyes again, where were you? He reached a hand out but, instead of feeling the soft cotton of his master bedroom sheets, warm with your presence, he felt cold glass and metal. Stunned he opened his eyes, shielding them from the bright light with one hand on his forehead, and surveyed his surroundings. 

Perhaps he should be thankful that you were not here, wherever here happened to be. A mostly circular room, more octagonal where the angles of the huge glass windows met wide bars of metal that supported a complicated ceiling structure. 

Beyond the glass walls were a series of odd looking machines, blinking, making irritating buzzing noises. So crude, their electricity. And there, stamped on the side of the closest one was a huge A. 

Loki swore, sagging back on his small cot bed on the floor. Not this again. The gods damned Avengers, always ruining his fun. 

You had left before him at least, so he hoped you’d managed to evade whatever luck the Avengers had managed to rustle up in order to catch him inebriated and unaware. But his anger built nonetheless at the risk that you may be here too, trapped and frightened again like a spider under a glass. He would not be able to control his temper if he found out that they had ensnared you, regardless of whether you were hurt or not. 

Loki reached out, sending his sedir as far as he could towards you, feeling for that playful touch of your own magic in response. But there was nothing, it recoiled as if burnt, returning to him bringing with it the agitated pacing of a caged tiger. 

He tried to manifest a cleaner outfit, one not salt stained from walking through the snow. He peered down at himself, mud along his right side suggested he’d been tackled in some way and he was most displeased at being unable to clean the caking soil from his sweater. You liked this sweater and he was sure you’d be upset to see it ruined. 

No matter how hard he tried to delve into that well of magic, nothing appeared in return, only a smattering of fireworks that dimmed quickly. Sighing once more, he closed his eyes and waited for the Avengers to send their first interrogator, hoping that sleep might show him your face at least.

Across the ocean you were thinking of Loki too, honing your skills with Valkyrie as she trained, sharpening her weapons and making plans in the privacy of her home. 

Thor had taken it upon himself to rally as much support as he could find, returning with a huge friend called Korg who introduced himself as, “not a man, a pile of rocks, but not normal rocks, rocks that are like a man.” 

You’d shaken the not rock, not man’s hand and thanked him for coming, but all the same you’d had to take a stiff drink from the secret whisky collection in Brunnhilde’s coat cupboard before you could rejoin the small group Thor had managed to gather in the King’s living room. 

“Okay, that’s enough, stop raiding my supplies,” she called, once everyone had found a place in the living room. Despite her general tone it was only really Korg who was still opening and closing the doors, everyone else was settled with either a cup of some sort of tea or a large measure of liquor, smiling tightly at the room as if it was a funeral of a distant relative.  

Korg squeezed himself into his seat and gave you a smile. “Sorry, I just get hungry, and there are these snacks here on Midgard that -” 

“Korg!” Brunnhilde snapped again and Thor, sat closest to him, elbowed him in a way that made you think it hurt the god more. 

“Thank you all for coming,” Brunnhilde took centre stage, ever the King, regardless of whether her throne was intricately carved wood or an overstuffed seersucker armchair she’d squeezed into her cosy living room.  

On the sofa, Jane turned to look at you and held out her hand for you to squeeze. Her own fingers felt soft in yours, lovely and delicate but too small, and although your friends were trying their best to support you, you missed the reassuring feel of Loki’s long fingers tangled with your own. 

“Last night,” Brunnhilde’s voice commanded the room, no longer just their friend, but the King. Everyone fell silent at once. “Last night, Loki was kidnapped from the harbour by Stark and his men. Thor has told me this is because the Avengers still believe Loki has to serve his time here on Midgard, in a Midgardian prison and, as you all already know, I think that’s fucking stupid. I’ve asked you all here to help Estrid, Thor and myself get him back so,” she clapped her hands together, “let’s plan.” 

Jane spoke up first, bouncing forwards in her seat, “I can ask Darcy to find out where he’s being kept!” 

Thor looked incredulous, “Darcy works for Stark, she is hardly likely to risk that.” 

“She works for Stark, but she’s my best friend, don’t you work for Stark as well?” She turned on him, lifting a brow. 

“I do not!” The god huffed. 

You’d wondered why the pair had ended their relationship, but it was clear they did nothing but bicker so perhaps it was for the best. 

“How about,” Thor paused, wondering if there was still space in their relationship for him to suggest things to Jane.

 “- Jane will speak with Darcy, she can find out if she’s willing to help and Thor will see how far the Avengers still trust him?” Brunnhilde suggested and both parties nodded. 

“I could print some pamphlets, to let the people of Asgard know their prince has been taken?” Korg offered and Thor clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Good idea my friend, we should tell all of Asgard that Loki was kidnapped, for it will embarrass him greatly when he returns!” Thor laughed. 

“Thor!” You snapped, it was all too much, these plans, the arguing. Your Loki was trapped in some awful prison and his own brother wasn’t even taking it seriously. “Loki could be hurt, who knows what they’re doing to him. You said yourself that Stark hates him and wants him imprisoned.” Your words caught in your throat, making them sound odd and strained. 

“My apologies,” Thor looked more sombre than you’d ever seen him, “I jest only because I’m worried too. Loki may be a handful -” Brunnhilde rolled her eyes, “but he is my little brother, a Prince of Asgard and your beloved.” Thor reached a hand out and cupped your cheek, surprisingly delicate compared to the usual rough pats on the back. “We will see him returned.” 

As you looked around the room at your new friends you truly believed it, Jane was sure she could secure the support of her friend Darcy, Thor and Val were fierce warriors and even Korg, who you were still getting used to, had prior experience of defending Asgard. The thrum of anxiety that had beat alongside your heart was dimming, this was not going to be like last time. Your magic was strong, powerful, and you were not alone. 

“Let’s plan then.” 

You talked well into the night, missing most of the Solstice celebrations, though a few villagers came by with food and drinks from the Long Hall, full of delicious spices. Your first Solstice and Loki wasn’t even here to celebrate it with you. Every now and again you snuck off to the little bathroom to cry and wipe your tears, careful to use your illusions to conjur your makeup again so no one would suspect. After all, you were a Warrior of Asgard now and should therefore not cry. You told yourself again, teeth gritted together, staring into the mirror over the sink. 

Every time you returned your drink was full to the brim again, but no one mentioned your absences. 

When the darkness had truly arrived and the cold started to seep through the stone walls Brunnhilde declared it was time to make her Solstice speech. She pulled out a small set of note cards and chucked them unceremoniously into the dying fire. 

“I guess I won’t be needing that ‘happily ever after’ Solstice speech after all.” She huffed, shucking on her coat in the narrow hall, “I’ll improv it.”

“I look forward to it very much!” Thor smiled, tucking you under his broad arms, “come, Trouble, we will see the people and take our plans forward, my little brother will be back to torment us before we know it.” 

Unsurprisingly the hall was still bustling when you arrived, the village had continued its Solstice celebrations without Loki and Thor to complete their ceremonial fighting it seemed. A lead weight of regret settled in your stomach, if you’d stayed at the pub, could you have stopped them from taking Loki? Could you have fought them off on his behalf if they really had controlled him with the rune magic? 

And if you had. 

If he was with you now. 

Would you have appreciated his presence, his smile, the way he tucked your hand into his elbow and held you close? You’d never take his presence for granted again. You’d tell him when you saw him. 

It occurred to you that this must have been how Loki had felt while you were gone and though you didn’t want him to ever suffer, you hoped that he’d felt your loss as keenly, because his absence was worse than anything you’d even had to endure, but it had also clarified your feelings so clearly. Loki really was everything to you now, there was nothing but your mischievous trickster. As you thought of him your magic roiled inside, delving into a well of power you had no idea existed. 

“Are you alright?” Thor whispered while the King opened the double doors of the hall and silenced the revelry within. 

“As I can be just - missing him, that’s all.” You gave Thor a tight, awkward smile. 

“I know.” He dropped his arm from around your shoulders and nudged you forwards, through the path your King cut in the bustling hall, towards her throne and the centre of the court. 

A day had passed since Loki had woken up. He knew only because of the changing guard and the meals that were presented to him. This was, after all, not his first time in imprisonment. Although the conditions on Asgard were considerably better. 

Coffee, toast and what was apparently supposed to be porridge arrived remotely through a hatch in the plexi-glass wall that was protected by an airlock system, as if he might turn to dust and simply float away if given half a chance. The thought had occurred to him, but since he couldn’t teleport he didn’t wish to risk being sucked into a vent as a fine mist or separated from something important should Stark decide to turn a fan on. 

Loki surmised that it must be sometime in the morning if there was toast and that, given the guard had changed recently, for the fourth time, it was probably around twenty-four hours since he’d arrived, or since he’d woken up at least. The Norns knew how long he’d been out from Stark’s attempt at forging magic. The man had built a crazed robot before, so he wasn't going to underestimate his ability to cause his own kind of Midgardian chaos. It was a shame, really, that the inventor was so intent on making him an enemy, when Loki could foresee a future where they'd be fine friends, creating mischief and carnage. 

Loki spent most of the day plotting, his eyes closed and hands crossed behind his head, trying to remember every detail of the compound, the weakest spots, the places to hide, on the rare chance he might be granted an opportunity to escape. 

He knew the outside of the glass prison was surrounded by the same runes he’d found during your own rescue, runes that controlled and suppressed magic. In themselves a strong force, channelling aeons old knowledge, but not unshakeable. Not unbreakable. 

Using your shared well of natural, elemental, magic, as well as the sorcery that Frigga had so diligently taught him, you had been able to break them before and he had no doubt he’d be able to break them again. Especially if he had your help. 

As he lay there he wondered if you would come for him and, though it hurt him to dwell on it, he wondered if you’d had the same sad thoughts when you’d been kidnapped. Did you wonder if he’d rescue you? Did you doubt him? 

Loki brushed the thought away, you had willingly stayed with him many times now, had followed him back to Asgard, you lived together. He wouldn’t allow his fears to take him over, not when keeping a lid on his control was so important. 

Perhaps that was the key, a controlled push of his magic in the right weak spot could spell freedom. But where?

Slowly Loki paced the perimeter of the prison. All the sides were an even length, eight in total, but with angles so wide the room was essentially circular inside. On one side was a door with no hinges, he presumed it must rise into the dark ceiling cavity above the prison instead or, knowing Stark, go into the ground for some ridiculous, style induced reason. 

In the panel beside it was the hatch for his food, the air lock system seemed simple enough, but there was no warning of the food appearing, no clock to notice the changes in time and no noise or presence. That too appeared from either the ceiling or the floor. 

His bed was an insult to both comfort and design, more of a perspex box than an item of furniture, the blacket thin and pillow almost non-existent. Try as he might, Loki was unable to conjure any finer items, more befitting of his station or his taste, and it was perhaps the greatest insult that they’d keep a Prince in such an ugly, ill furnished prison cell. At least on Asgard he’d been allowed the dignity of a few items of furniture and apparel. 

Sighing in frustration, Loki turned and paced in the opposite direction, hoping that the change of scenery might prove to give him a new perspective on his predicament. But he had no such luck. Instead he sat again on his bed and allowed his mind to drift to you, to the starlit nights you’d spent together of late and the memories that resurfaced in his dreams, of a young Prince and Princess, laughing and smiling in the golden sunshine of Asgard. 

“Prince Loki was taken last night.” Brunnhilde’s voice rang clearly through the silent hall, each Asgardian turned to face her, quiet, reverent. You’d never seen everyone so serious before and it took a moment for you to remember that they had once been a skilled and fierce warrior race, all quietly surveying their King now, waiting for orders. “He was taken as he left The Dog and Bilgesnipe while the rest of us slept and celebrated. A sneaky and dishonourable attack made worse by its location on the harbour at the heart of our village.” The King paused, allowing her words to filter through the crowd, ripples of murmurs drifting past as everyone processed her words. 

“ - we believe he was taken by the Avengers, Tony Stark, in particular, using runic magic that he learnt during the rescue of Princess Estrid, Warrior of the Asgardian Court.” You’d never heard her be so formal either and her low tone echoed through your bones, the feeling of anger, of the might of Asgard, building like a wave. “Loki has served his time following Asgardian laws and remains under our jurisdiction as a Prince and a member of my appointed council, Stark has no right to arrest him or imprison him. We are a sovereign nation and abide by our own laws, he has taken our Prince unlawfully and we see this as tantamount to war.”

The hall roared into life, every citizen enraged by this insult. Shouts and angry declarations echoed in the small space, feet beat against the floorboards and hands waved in the air. 

Brunnhilde coaxed you forwards and, with a firm hand on your back, Thor followed. Jane and Korg flanked you on either side to form a guard around the King. Her council, strong and capable before the court. 

“Crown Prince Thor, Princess Estrid, The Lady Jane and Korg will continue to protect you. To protect our Midgardian neighbours we will not allow any further tourists or visitors until Prince Loki is restored to his home. And then he will once more take his place on this council.” 

The hall was still a cacophony of noise, talking, shouting and the banging of fists on the long tables almost drowned her next statement.

“Though we have built ourselves a new home here, a village known for peace across the realms, this insult will not be borne and we will not be deterred from our path of sanctuary by this act of aggression. We will stand strong, together.” She raised her sword above her head and the noise rose again. You turned away, you were full of rage, uncontained and unbound, flames flickered between your fingers and you knew that you were moments away from your casual clothes being replaced by battle ready metal. 

“All will be well, Trouble.” Thor’s voice was deep, cutting through the high pitched shouting. “Our King is a Valkyrie, a noble and revered warrior, I would trust no one else with my people. We will return him to you and to this court.”

Brunnhilde motioned for you to follow her, taking the emergency exit at the back of the hall rather than attempting to wade through the somehow increasing mass of people inside. 

Outside the air was startlingly cold, it was rare for you to be out without Loki and his familiar presence at your side always made you feel warmer. Despite the new friends surrounding you, you felt so alone. Loki’s absence loomed larger than you’d expected, every facet of your life different without him. 

There had been no warm body to snuggle closer to this morning, no kind hand to pass you breakfast, no gentlemanly arm in yours while you took a walk around the village. Even your magic missed him, it coiled and sort for his sedir, homesick for his touch and languished in the pit of your stomach a heavy weight that made you feel nauseous. 

The ache of it was too much, bursting from you, it roiled in your stomach and you were sure you’d been seeing your breakfast again. There was a deep tugging sensation somewhere between your stomach and your throat, you turned, ready to be sick into the gutter. Then, it was as if you’d sneezed and the pressure was gone. 

“What is that?” Brunnhilde looked at your feet, the round shaggy body of a calf looked up at her, its round eyes blinking. The calf danced to its feet, its flames melting the snow around you into puddles that leaked and settled between the cobbles. On silent feet it danced off down the street, heading for the open sea.

“Be careful!” You called on instinct, your stomach dropping as it leapt from the end of the harbour. But it didn’t fall, there was no splash, instead a ripple of silver floated off into the sky.

Loki stared blankly at the ceiling of the cell. Every moment that passed he thought of new and more complicated ways to punish the Avengers, to bring his wrath upon them. And every time he thought he’d peaked he felt your soft hands on his cheeks, your lips, the warmth of your body as it settled on his and your voice telling him to forget the wrongs of the past, to focus only on the future. 

He huffed, placing his hands behind his head, if he wanted a future he needed a way out of here. He was angry beyond measure, that was true, he was not a God to be trifled with. But his anger was stoked by concern, worry for you and, for the first time in many years, true loneliness. 

Loki missed the way you settled into his side every morning, the lingering kisses you gave him throughout the day and the calm that settled inside of him whenever you were around. He missed his magic, especially caked as he still was in mud and melted snow, but more than that he missed the sensation of your magic meeting his, warming him deep into the icy home of his own sedir. He knew that his frost giant form loved you too, more than the tryst you’d shared at the Golden Palace. There was a coldness to him that delighted in being warmed by you and now, without it, he felt the same sensation of isolation that he’d become accustomed to. 

The lights flickered and he cracked an eye open. There, on the other side of the glass, was a calf, made entirely of flame. It looked tired, sat down with its legs splayed around it awkwardly, but happy. It’s head was cocked to the side and its short tail stuck out, thumping on the floor like a dog. 

A noise on the other side of the doors made its head whip round, trailing flame behind it, and then it bounced further around the glass to sit next to Loki, its head pressed to the glass. Loki lifted a hand, his long fingers as large as the calf’s head, and it nuzzled forwards as if the glass was a simple barrier to being petted. 

The noise continued and the door burst open, various agents hustling inside before Tony Stark stepped over the threshold. 

When Loki looked down the calf was gone, but a trail of silver shimmered where it had been sat. He closed his eyes again, he didn’t care what Stark had to say, he knew now that you hadn’t forsaken him. He knew that you cared and that all he had to do was wait.

 

<<Chapter 19

Chapter 21>>

[austinswife]

ALWAYS YOUR SECOND CHOICE - ‘Buck’ Cleven

PART 01 || 02

SYNOPSIS — After walking away from Gale “Buck” Cleven, leaving behind the love you thought you had, Buck is sent on another mission during the war. Though you thought your relationship was over, a letter from Buck arrives before his departure, forcing you to confront the unresolved emotions and the difficult choices you’ve made.

WARNING(S) — Themes of heartbreak, regret, and unresolved tension, emotional turmoil, reflection, potential reconciliation or heartbreak.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEAS SUGGESTION — TO AUSTINSWIFE

The days had dragged by since you walked away from Buck, the man you thought you would spend your life with. You had never imagined your relationship would come to this—a painful, confusing ending that left you questioning whether it had ever been real at all. The ache in your chest was constant, a dull pain that never fully went away, no matter how hard you tried to push it down.

It had taken every ounce of strength you had to leave him, to walk out the door and force yourself to believe that you deserved better, even if your heart hadn’t fully accepted it. You had convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing, that staying would only mean more heartbreak. But now that he was gone—off to war, with no guarantee that he would return—the uncertainty felt suffocating.

Every day, you found yourself wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was safe. If he was thinking about you the way you were thinking about him. But you tried to push those thoughts aside. You had made your choice, and you had to stick to it. There was no point in holding on to false hope, not when the pain still ran so deep.

One morning, as you were finishing up chores on the farm, the mail truck arrived. You didn’t think much of it until you saw the letter, your name scrawled across the front in Buck’s familiar handwriting.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared down at the envelope, your hands shaking as you carefully tore it open. For a moment, you weren’t sure if you could bring yourself to read it. What could he possibly have to say after everything that had happened? But curiosity—and the unresolved feelings you still harbored—won out.

You unfolded the letter, the familiar weight of his words pressing down on you as you began to read.

Y/N,

By the time you read this, I’ll be gone on another mission. I don’t know how much time I have left to write, but there are things I need to say—things I didn’t say when you stood in front of me, tears in your eyes, asking me to choose you.

I know I hurt you. I know I’ve let you down in ways I can’t even begin to explain, and I don’t blame you for leaving. You’re right—I haven’t made you feel like my first choice, and for that, I’m sorry. I’m so goddamn sorry.

When I was with you, everything was easy. You never asked for anything more than what I could give. But that’s what makes it worse, doesn’t it? You deserved so much more, and I failed to give it to you.

I don’t know how to fix what I broke, and the truth is, maybe I can’t. You told me that you wouldn’t be waiting for me when I came back, and I understand. You deserve more than the man I’ve been. But I need you to know something, Y/N. I need you to know the truth.

I love you.

Maybe I didn’t show it right, maybe I didn’t say it enough, but I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone. More than her. And I know what you’re thinking—why didn’t I prove it? Why did I always run to her?

I don’t have the answers that will make this right. The only thing I can say is that I’ve been a fool. I was trying to hold onto the past because it felt like something I needed to protect. But the more I held onto her, the more I realized I was losing the one thing I couldn’t live without—you.

I’ve been selfish, and I didn’t see it until it was too late. I know I may not get the chance to make this right. I don’t know what’s waiting for me out there, but I didn’t want to leave without telling you this.

If I don’t come back, I need you to know that I never stopped thinking about you. About us. About what we could’ve been if I hadn’t been such a coward.

I wish I could be there with you right now, telling you all of this face-to-face, begging for your forgiveness, but I can’t. I just hope that when this war is over, and if I’m lucky enough to come home, there’s still a chance. Even if it’s small. Even if it’s broken.

If I come back, I want to try to be the man you deserve.

But if this is the last letter you ever get from me, then I want you to know that you were the love of my life, Y/N. Always. I’m sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.

Be safe. Live your life fully, even if I’m not there to see it. You deserve that and so much more.

Yours always, Buck

You stared at the letter in your hands, Buck’s words blurring as tears welled in your eyes. You hadn’t expected this. You hadn’t expected him to say the things you had been so desperate to hear when you were still together. The apology, the confession of love—it was all there, written on the page like a final plea for your forgiveness.

But what hurt the most was knowing that he had only come to these realizations after you had left, after it was too late. After you had walked out that door, heartbroken and certain that you could never come back from the betrayal.

Your thoughts drifted back to that day, the moment when you had finally confronted him. You had stood there, spilling your heart out, telling him how much it hurt to feel like a second choice. You had reminded him about the time you were in the hospital—how sick you had been, how scared. You had asked him to come, needed him by your side more than ever, but he couldn’t.

You understood that he couldn’t leave the base. You had accepted that… until Marge called. She had needed him, and without a second thought, he dropped everything and ran to her. That had been the breaking point—the moment when you realized you couldn’t keep being the one left behind.

"It hurt so much, Buck. Too much for me to handle. I don’t even know if I’ll ever heal from this, because the more I love you, the more it hurts."

You had said those words through tears, your heart breaking even as you spoke them. And now, here you were again, crying over the same man, the same wounds.

But his letter… it was different. It wasn’t enough to erase the hurt, but it was something. It was the truth, finally. He had admitted to everything you’d been afraid of, and while that should have made it easier, it only made it more complicated.

Because despite everything, you still loved him. No matter how much he had hurt you, no matter how much you told yourself that you were done, you couldn’t stop loving him. You couldn’t turn off that part of your heart, no matter how hard you tried.

Buck had said he didn’t know if he’d come back. The thought of him not returning from the war sent a wave of panic through you, an emptiness settling in your chest. What if this was the last letter you ever got from him? What if he never came home?

You couldn’t shake the feeling of dread, the uncertainty of war hanging over both of your heads. But there was something else there too—a small, fragile flicker of hope. He had said that if he came back, he wanted to try. He wanted to be the man you deserved.

But could you give him that chance? Could you let yourself hope for a future where things would be different, where you wouldn’t always feel like second best? Or would the wounds run too deep to ever fully heal?

You didn’t have the answers. Not yet. All you had was the letter, and the words he had written—I love you. More than her.—echoing in your mind.

For now, all you could do was hope he came back safe. Hope that maybe, one day, you could have the conversation you had both been too afraid to have. And maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to rebuild what had been broken.

But for now, you would wait. Not for him, but for clarity. For a future where you could make the choice that was right for you.

It had been weeks since Buck’s last letter—weeks that felt like an eternity, stretched taut with fear and uncertainty. Every day that passed without word from him made your heart ache, the silence becoming more unbearable than anything you could’ve imagined.

The last letter from him had left you reeling. It had been filled with apologies, admissions of his failures, and confessions of love, all wrapped up in the kind of raw vulnerability you hadn’t seen from Buck in the months leading up to your breakup. And now, there was nothing but empty space where his words should’ve been.

You had told yourself you were done with him. That after everything—the constant running to her, the feeling of being second best, the hurt that had built up like a wall between you—there was no going back. You had told yourself that walking away was the right decision. But your heart… your heart didn’t seem to care.

It had been weeks of trying to distract yourself, of throwing yourself into the farm work, keeping busy, and pretending that you weren’t waiting for him. But every time you saw the mail truck drive by, your heart would skip a beat. Every time you saw the sky, clear and blue, you’d think of him up there, flying, and you’d wonder—where was he? Was he safe? Was he thinking of you?

And then, one cold afternoon, just as the sky was turning gray with winter clouds, the letter came.

You hadn’t expected it—weren’t even sure you could handle it—but when you saw the envelope with his name scrawled across it in that familiar handwriting, something inside you twisted. This wasn’t like the other letters. The paper was worn, dirt-smudged at the corners. The handwriting was different—uneven, hurried.

Your hands trembled as you tore it open, your stomach churning with both fear and hope. The moment you read the first line, your breath caught in your throat, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis.

Y/N,

I don’t know how this letter will reach you, but I hope to God it does. I’m writing from a German POW camp. My plane was shot down on our last mission, and I’ve been captured. There’s no easy way to say this, and I hate to think of you reading this, worrying about me even more than you probably already do.

I’m not hurt, not really, just tired. Tired in a way I can’t explain. But I’m alive, and that’s something, right?

I think about you every single day. Even more so now that I’m here, in a place where everything seems so far away and unreal. But you—you’re always with me. I still have your picture, the one you gave me before everything went wrong. I keep it tucked in my left jacket pocket, right over my heart. I put it there the day you left, and it hasn’t moved since.

There are nights when I pull it out and just stare at it, thinking of you, wondering if I’ll ever get the chance to see you again. I remember how it felt to hold you, how you laughed, how you’d roll your eyes at my stupid jokes. It’s what keeps me going, even here, even now.

I know you might still be angry. Hell, I’m still angry at myself. I keep thinking about what I did, about how I didn’t deserve the love you gave me. But it’s all I have now—your love. Even if you don’t forgive me, even if I never get to fix what I broke, I want you to know that carrying your love with me is the only thing getting me through this.

I’m not asking for forgiveness in this letter. I’m not asking for anything, really. I just wanted you to know that if I make it out of here alive, it’s because of you. I’m still fighting to come home to you.

I love you, Y/N. I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

Yours always, Buck

The letter fell from your hands as you pressed your palm to your mouth, tears filling your eyes as you let the words sink in. He was alive. He was still out there, somewhere, thinking of you, carrying your picture in his jacket—next to his heart.

He had been shot down. Captured.

Your heart pounded in your chest, fear coursing through your veins as you tried to imagine what he must be going through. A Prisoner Of War camp. The thought alone sent chills through you. You didn’t know what conditions he was in, how dangerous it was, how much time he had left. But he was alive. And that was something.

But more than that… he still loved you.

I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say.

You stared down at the letter, reading and rereading those words, your chest tight with emotion. All this time, you had tried to convince yourself that you were done, that you had moved on, that walking away from him was the right choice. But deep down, you knew the truth.

You hadn’t stopped loving him.

Buck’s words brought back memories—memories of the man you fell in love with before everything became so complicated. The man who made you laugh, who held you when the world felt too heavy. The man who could make you feel like you were the only person that mattered, even when everything else was falling apart.

But those memories were tangled up with the hurt, the betrayal, the constant running to her. You had wanted to be his first choice, but it had always felt like you were second. Even now, those wounds hadn’t healed. You didn’t know if they ever would.

But in this moment, none of that seemed to matter. All that mattered was that Buck was still out there, still fighting to come home. And if he was still fighting… maybe you could too.

You had never written him back after leaving, but now, for the first time since you’d walked away, you felt ready to speak. You pulled out a piece of paper and sat at the small wooden table, the pen feeling heavy in your hand as you began to write the first letter since you had said goodbye.

Buck,

I don’t even know where to begin. I’m sitting here, rereading your letter, and all I can think is, thank God you’re alive. Thank God you’re okay. I’ve been so afraid, Buck. I’ve been terrified that I’d never hear from you again, that I’d never get the chance to say what’s been in my heart since I left.

It’s hard for me to put into words how I’ve felt these past few months. You hurt me in ways I didn’t think were possible, and I won’t pretend that those scars have healed. But reading your letter, knowing that you still carry my picture with you, knowing that you’re fighting to come home to me… it’s brought everything into perspective.

I still love you, Buck. I never stopped, not even after I walked away. It hurt so much because I loved you so much. And that love hasn’t gone away. I can’t deny it anymore.

When you told me you were running to her because she needed you, it felt like a betrayal. Like I would always come second in your life. I needed you too, Buck, but you weren’t there. And that broke me. I won’t lie to you—it still breaks me.

But despite all of that, I’m sitting here writing to you because my heart refuses to let go of you. You’re still a part of me, even now. And I want you to know that if—when—you come back, I’ll be here. I’ll be waiting for you.

I’m not ready to say I forgive you, not yet. There’s still a lot to work through, a lot that needs to be said between us. But what I can say is this: I love you. I’ve always loved you, and I’ll keep loving you, no matter what happens.

So come back to me, Buck. Please, come back safe. We’ll figure the rest out when you’re home.

Yours, Y/N

As you finished the letter, you folded it carefully, your hands trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. The fear of losing him again was overwhelming, but the hope—the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have a future together—was enough to keep you going.

You sealed the envelope and handed it to the postman the next day, your heart heavy with all the things left unsaid, yet lightened by the chance to say what truly mattered.

The days after sending the letter passed slowly, the uncertainty gnawing at you as you waited, hoping for some kind of word—some kind of sign that Buck was still holding on. You pictured him pulling out your photo, keeping it close as he faced each day, and it gave you the strength to keep going.

You didn’t know if he would get your letter, didn’t know if he would make it back to you. But the one thing you did know was that love—your love for Buck—was still there. And no matter how broken things had been, no matter how much hurt had passed between you, that love was still worth fighting for.

Now, all you could do was wait. Again…