#hope this could help clear things up and what not

[multipleoccupancy]

The coast being clear did not bring Theo all that much courage, he was very scared of Cecil and he didn't know what it was he would do to him if he found him in his room. He was quite sure the older man would use it as an excuse and who knew what might happen from there. Part of him thought about just leaving and letting the monster deal with Cecil but he also didn't want anyone else to be killed. The people on the ward were terrifying but by his understanding they were also just sick and in need of help.

Theo's eyes instantly found the strange red half glowing thing in the corner of the room. It's horrible form, it's teeth. He quickly covered his own mouth to stop himself from screaming but he stared at the monster in shock and horror. There right in front of him was his proof that monsters were real, that he had not killed those cows! Theo moved his hand enough to whisper, "rabbit shoes," as confirmation that he could see it and he hoped that she would say it back, though it was clear that she could see it too as she pointed out that she thought it was asleep. He took a moment to register her hand in his and gave a short squeeze in return before drawing in a quiet breath.

They had to be brave! They needed to do this! Theo gathered up his blanket again, as quietly as he could and spread it out wide, checking with Mauve that it was the right thing to do and that she was ready to strike with her knife once the blanket was over the creature. Theo believed they could wrap it in the blanket and tangle it, it had so many tentacles that it seemed almost like it would be easy. Never mind that the monster had taken down two adults already and was apparently full of human blood!

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet did not share Theo's doubts about killing the monster. To her, it was a no-brainer. Whatever it was, it had killed two people already. It had to be stopped. And while she knew that some monsters could be somewhat tamed and used as livestock in another timeline, it wasn't the case here.

She stopped right in her tracks. Cecil's room. Violet glanced behind her shoulder, but Cecil didn't seem to be anywhere near his cell. "The coast is clear," she whispered, "but we'll have to be careful." Who knew what Cecil would do if he found them in his room?

The fact that the monster was even in Cecil's room troubled her. Was this just a coincidence? The monster had killed the man Cecil had attacked, and now he hid in his room. Could Cecil be the monster? No. That was impossible, right?

Inside, the cell was pretty much like any other cell in the ward, save for the trail of blood on the white linoleum, and at the end of it, the bizarre, floating shape that seemed to be sleeping in a corner. It looked like a big, red jellyfish, with a bulbous head that pulsated slowly, filled with what she assumed was the orderly's blood. Dozens of tentacles were dripping from its body, all ending with four little teeth. But that was nothing compared to the teeth inside the beast's mouth. Endless rows of them in an agape, circular maw. Like a hole filled with spikes.

"I think- I think it's asleep," she whispered. The thing was not moving at all, but its big, globular head was gleaming with a soft red light that flickered slowly, almost like the light was breathing. Ignoring the 'no touching' rule, Violet grabbed Theo's hand. To give him some courage. And to give herself a little bit of courage too.

[wstviewvidal]

birthday- w. maximoff

pairing: fwb!wanda x reader

summary: misunderstandings can change things.

a/n: hi all! i hope yall are good! i wrote this a little bit after the first part came out. i love angst! unsure if i want a third part. also, if you don’t like this literally don’t tell me because im sensitive and cry easily

minors do not interact

“i assumed you would’ve confessed to wanda by now” natasha says as she fixes a pile of papers on your desk, “you know, since you’re head over heels for her”

nat smirks as you give her the side eye and roll your eyes, you swivel your chair towards her.

“i’m not head over heels for her. i’m ju-“

“stupid?”

narrowing your eyes and tilting your head to the side, “okay, no”

meeting natasha was by far one of the greatest strokes of luck in your life. sure, she could be blunt at times— but when it comes down to it, she tells you what you need to hear.

unfortunately, this was also one of those times.

she has constantly insisted on the idea that you need to muster up the courage to tell wanda about your feelings for her. she always says that she believes wanda feels the same towards you, but your insecurities and doubt always get in the way.

except this would actually be the second time you confess, not the first. not that you even are aware of that fact.

you don’t really recall the first time you told wanda how you felt about her. you were drunk at a party, and only wanda has a clear memory of it. however, out of respect for you and your ability to get embarrassed quickly, wanda never brought it up again.

“i just feel like it’s a losing game, you know?” you say softly, rubbing your temples, “i always thought that if one of us were to tell the other if we caught feelings, it would be her. she’s always been more upfront with her emotions than i have. i think she really only sees me as what we’d agreed upon, nat. what if im just a way for her to pass time?

you pout softly, your emotions now coming forth in front of your long time friend and colleague.

“i just feel like she treats me like a girlfriend some days, and other days it’s just,” you take in a deep breath and groan out of frustration, “other days she tells me about a girl she saw, or someone she matched with on a dating app. do you know what i mean? i get mixed signals sometimes”

nat looks at you with a sympathetic look on her face, biting her lip slightly to keep from saying anything she really shouldn’t.

truth is, nat always had an feeling that you two would end up together one way or another, she’s always rooted for you two. the only way that could happen is if the two of you get your head out of your asses. in fact, she’d tried to get wanda to come forth about her own feelings.

however, wanda was dating someone at the time of said conversation— and out of respect for her then partner, wanda kept her quiet and buried her feelings deep inside. timing has never been on your side, will it ever?

“i don’t know if there’s anything i can say to get you to tell her, but,” she raises her eyebrows and makes her voice firm to try to emphasize her point, “all i can say is that wanda is a beautiful girl who’s got brains and a personality on her. she won’t be around forever. you know you won’t forgive yourself if you don’t at least try with her”

there it is, the brutal truth you knew that natasha was going to throw at you— and what sucks the most is the fact that it’s exactly what you needed to hear.

wanda has had to call off your agreement on a few occasions because she’d gotten serious with two girls; and each time it’d left you sobbing in natasha’s arms in her apartment because you couldn’t fathom the thought of wanda with another girl.

with a soft nod, “how should i even do that? or when?”

natasha begins another one of her long speeches about how you could be losing the person who could be the one, emphasizing how you’d be the one at fault if you let her get away.

on the drive home, you can’t help but replay natasha’s words in your mind, you aren’t sure why they they’re resonating this specific time.

“don’t wait too long, you know. you never know who could come along and sweep her off her feet. that’ll be the last time you have wanda like how you have her now”

those specific words echo in your head as you get home, unsure why they’re weighing heavy on your chest this time.

sighing softly, “come on, baby, i need to get you home,” wanda says as she guides you to her car with her hand guiding you by the lower back. she had your purse and coat in her other hand, ensuring she’d grabbed everything you’d brought with you.

you two were finally at the end of the road, officially a month from graduating college and decided to attend one last party together before you were thrown into the deep end of adulthood.

you had a few too many to drink that night and wanda knew by the fourth drink and the way you couldn’t keep your hands off of her, she had to get you home safely before you ran off somewhere as soon as she took her eyes off of you.

you reached for the handle of the car door before having your hand gently smacked away.

“you know better than that,” she started softly before opening the door for you and allowing you to get comfortable in her passenger seat. wanda knew you hated having your heels on in the car, so she crouched down to remove them before giving you a quick kiss to the cheek.

wanda pulls back gently to look at your face, your glazed eyes looking back at her with a look of.. adoration?

she smiles softly and places a gentle hand on the side of your face, “you’re beautiful”

rolling your eyes and trying to hide your blush, you giggle and nudge her shoulder in a playful manner.

wanda chuckles at how you’re easy to fluster with just two words. placing another small kiss to your cheek, she closes the passenger door.

you watched as she rounded the car and get into the drivers seat with low lidded glazed eyes, a small crooked smile on your face as you watch her. the maroon mid length dress she wore was nothing short of elegant. her curled dark hair and light makeup enhanced her features so beautifully that you feared you’d somehow spill your guts to her if she made one more right move.

but you couldn’t. wanda was seeing someone— granted, it wasn’t serious nor do you think they’d even slept together, but you were terrified of being that girl.

in fact, you were too. you had been seeing maria from your public policy course for the past two months but you could never bring yourself to feel for her what you so deeply felt for wanda. you two had a mutual break up a few days later.

wanda enters the car and shrugs off her coat, her arm muscles now showing even more with the street light illuminating the inside of the car in a specific way. she fixes her hair and puts on her seat belt before she looks over at you with concern.

“you okay, bub? what’s wrong?” wanda asks softly, placing a gentle hand on your thigh as she furrows her eyebrows at your distant far off look.

wanda had no idea what was going through your head, not a single clue as to what was about to come out of your lips.

“do you ever think meant to be together? or are we just destined to be some sort of parallel line that run close but never touch”

a flicker of panic come over wanda’s face and her gentle caress on your thigh stops abruptly.

the air in the car now feels heavier, as if the spoken words have broken the ‘casual-ness’ of your spoken agreement.

wanda always hoped you two would speak about this, but when you were sober and coherent.

it came out of your lips so naturally, as if you’d said it before.

like this has been weighing heavily on your mind for a while.

wanda’s heart clenched, especially at the fact that she had finally realized that you’d been wondering about the same thing she had for years.

“i-“

wanda was completely and utterly dumbfounded for the first time when it came to you. she often, no— not often, always had an idea of what would come out of your mouth.

she often found herself staring at you when you’d speak to your friends from across the room. she’d smile at how animatedly you’d react to people words and how you’d cover your mouth as you’d giggle at a joke someone said. she could easily pride herself in the fact that she knew you.

but this, what you’d just said, had her tongue tied.

she wished you were sober. she wished you were sober so she could confess that she’d been in love with you for so long, before you two even agreed to get into bed with each other. that ever since you two were nineteen during your first year of college, she couldn’t stop thinking of you in a way that friends shouldn’t think of each other in.

but you were drunk.

you were seeing someone and so was she.

so she made the hard decision to keep her silence and take you home safely, without any casualties.

“you’re drunk,” she says sadly, her eyes showing every ounce of emotion going in through her head, “let’s save this for another day”

that day never came.

walking through the door of wanda’s apartment to get into the party wanda said she’d throw you, you’re instantly greeted with a bunch of your closest friends and a few extra guests who happened to be their plus ones.

immediately, you found yourself scanning the room and smiling at the people who were in the space. you could hear chatter and laughter, warming your heart knowing that it all came from the people you knew and loved.

with soft music in the background and the smell of wanda’s cooking, you feel immediately at ease with the atmosphere of the party.

you walk in and are greeted by your friends wishing you a happy birthday. after thanking them and giving them hugs, you find yourself by the drink table to try and loosen up.

wanda was considerate enough, as always, to ensure that the people who were invited to the party were people you could actually stand to hold a conversation with unlike other parties where you had to endure endless small chat that rotted at your brain.

speaking of wanda, you’d yet to see her even though this is her apartment. you try your best to subtly look around the room for any sight of the girl who takes up space in your mind every day.

scanning the room, you look for the dark haired girl but come up short. pouring softly, you take another sip of your drink and go to find natasha who has a look of amusement on her face as she watches you search for wanda.

“how nice of you to finally make it to your own birthday party,” she teases, “you look nice. is this the dress wanda bought you?”

it was. in fact, you’d never been a fan of dressing too girly until wanda coaxed you into letting her buy you a dress, and this one happened to be the most recent one she’s bought you.

she was always a fan of how baby blue looked on you. she liked it so much on you that she took it upon herself to buy you another two dresses, each could be used for different events.

this specific dress fell just below mid thigh and you paired it with a simple pair of white heels. you kept your makeup natural and did your hair, subconsciously styling yourself the way you know wanda would compliment. i mean, she is the one who bought you this dress and threw you this party.

what are friends with benefits for if not that?

trying to hide a small blush at natasha’s words, you nod softly and try to look away to avoid her incessant teasing.

she laughs softly and nudges your shoulder, “i haven’t seen her”

you turn back to her with a furrow of your brows and try to act like you don’t know what she’s talking about.

“your girlfriend,” she says in a monotone voice, as if it’s obvious who she’s talking about.

a small pout forms on your lips as you realize that no one’s seen wanda. everything seemed to be flowing smoothly and it didn’t seem like she needed to go out to get anything for the party, so where could she be?

turning back to natasha and excusing yourself to go grab a quick snack from the kitchen, you turn on your heel to grab a quick breather before having to go back out and socialize all night.

while at the table, you feel a presence right next to you, staring. agatha.

“well, well,” she begins in that tone of hers, “it seems like your girlfriend isn’t yours anymore, huh? is that why you’re all alone?”

you quickly whip your head towards her. not yours anymore? your body feels like it’s gone cold and you can’t pry your eyes away from agatha, almost trying to urge her to say something else, to continue on with what she just started.

“what do you mean?”

agathas’s smirk widens as she realizes shes hit a nerve.

“well, she’s not glued to you like usual. no cozying up, no fetching you whatever you need, having you on her lap. i mean, what do you mean what do i mean?”

patience wearing thin and not wanting to deal with agatha beating around the bush, you step closer to her with a firm look on your face, “where is wanda? who’s she with?”

agatha is caught off guard by your sudden jealous and angry demeanor, she drops the act.

tilting her head towards the crowd, and giving you a look of pity, “sorry, babe. last i saw her she was cozying up with a girl with a green dress. you took to long to get your girl.”

your blood runs cold for the umpteenth time in just the past twenty minutes. it’s almost like your body knew this was coming but your brain didn’t. had you just lost wanda? was it for good this time?

you turn your head to look for natasha in the living room, she’s already looking at you with a look of pity. she nods her head to the opposite side of the living room, gesturing towhere wanda is with a dark haired girl.

a knot twists inside of your chest and it feels like the air has been knocked out of you. it’s like a movie you hate but can’t tear your eyes away from. wanda looks beautiful, happy.

and you hate it.

the two look comfortable together, sitting too close for your liking. wanda’s left leg is over her right and the girl has her hand placed on her thigh.

wanda’s looking at her with a look you believed was only meant for you. the softly smile on her face and the way her eyes drift down to the girls lips makes you sick.

they’re well into a conversation and you can see how wanda is laughing at her jokes, placing her hand on the girl’s forearm as she throws her head back in a fit of laughter.

it seems all too natural and intimate.

every interaction you watch them share feels like a blow to the stomach, the air feeling like it’s being knocked out of you again.

in this moment, you slowly begin to realize that wanda was never yours. every shared moment that you two shared together, every kiss and caress, was just a way to pass the time.

you feel nauseous.

you excuse yourself from agatha and quickly find a way to wanda’s patio, where it’s vacant and you can hide for a while out here.

wanda’s apartment had a beautiful view of the city. you two often sat outside together and cuddled with a blanket and a cup of coffee after work often. you found comfort in wanda, even if you were unsure of what you two were.

she worked hard for everything she had in life and it was something you truly admired about her. she didn’t have the easiest upbringing and the fact that she still remains soft after it all and continued to be a beautiful is something you love about her.

replaying the conversation with both natasha and agatha, you can’t help but feel like a complete idiot as you realize how everything almost felt as if it was foreshadowing to this very moment.

you hear the door to the patio open but don’t turn back, you already know who it is.

familiar soft footsteps stop right next to you and you immediately smell her perfume. it’s the same one you gave her a few years ago and for the first time, it makes you sick.

“you’re wearing the dress,” amusement in her voice as she looks at the city with you, “and you look beautiful”

you smile softly but don’t engage in conversation, just acknowledging her compliment. wanda frowns softly at your lack of attention, not used to you immediately turning around and throwing back a flirt remark at her.

watching you from the side of her eye, she can tell just by your body language that something is bothering you.

you two stand at the patio railing for another few minutes, just in each others presence, until she decides to point out the elephant in the room.

“are you okay?” she asks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

wanda’s concern warms your heart, but you know it’s just meant to be in a friendly way. the way she always looks out for you always tugs on your heart strings.

you want to get angry with her. you want to yell and scream at her to get the hell away from you. ask her why she would string you along with pretty words and gentle gestures that screamed ‘i love you.’

but you can’t.

because at the end of the day, somehow you always find yourself back in wanda’s arms and you could never tell her you hate her. it just isn’t true. it couldn’t ever be true.

forcing the emotion down your throat, you force yourself to tell her you’re okay. forcing a smile as you look at her, you try to fake it.

but wanda knows you.

“bub,” with a soft voice, “what’s wrong?”

there it is. she knows exactly what to say, how to say it, and how to get her way.

“i just,” a deep breath, “i didn’t know you’d be bringing a date to the party.”

wanda’s face falters and she doesn’t know what to say. the girl back there was not at all her date, nor could she even fathom the idea of bringing another girl when today was supposed to be about you.

she dismissively waves a hand in front of her as she looks away, almost trying to deflect and avoid the topic, but she sees the way you’re trying to hide your hurt at the whole situation.

she begins picking at her finger nails, a nervous habit you’ve tried to help her stop. trying to figure out what to say, she stares at the ground. the last thing she’d ever want to do it hurt you, and yet here she was.

“she’s,” a slight moment of hesitation “she’s not my date. she just..”

her voice falters and she doesn’t know how to carry on so she just sighs and looks at you with an apologetic look.

wanda looks beautiful. i mean, how could she not? she’s wearing the outfit you love so much. the black pants and white top that you’ve always said makes her look sophisticated. you two always laugh at that, especially since the thought of you two now looking and acting like fully fledged adults is something that neither of you could never wrap your heads around.

“she’s just someone i’m talking to for the night, i swear” wanda fidgets uncomfortably, unsure of how to navigate this conversation. she’s never seen this side of you, the way your hidden jealousy wants to boil over.

you give her a sad smile and just shake your head, silently telling her she doesn’t have to continue. placing your hands over hers, you hold onto them tightly and bring them up to your lips to place a soft kiss against her knuckles.

���thank you for the party, wands”

wanda panics immediately, the way you said that felt like it had some sense of finality to it. anxiety fills her chest and she feels like her legs could give out at any minute. she tries to say something, anything, to get you to stay with her.

but she’s caught off guard and she doesn’t have anything on the tip of her tongue, except for the three words she’s wanted to say for so long.

giving her a hug, you hold her tightly and allow yourself to feel her touch one last time. you want to tell her you love her, tell her everything that you’ve been meaning to say.

but you fall short, like on every occasion you’ve wanted to confess.

you give her a kiss on the cheek and hold her waist as you pull back, smiling softly at her.

in this moment, you fully understand what natasha meant by telling you, “if you’re not going to tell her how much she means to you and you love her, you need to let her go. you know she deserves that much.”

wanda tries to hold onto you tightly, as if you’ll float away if she even let go for a fraction of a second. her heart was racing and she was on the verge of tears.

you release wanda as you take a step back, looking at her face and trying to take in as much of her as possible knowing this very well may be the last time you see her.

“i’ll see you.”

[inkedinshadows]

Bound by Secrets

Pairing: Azriel x Beron’s daughter!reader

Summary: When you get caught sneaking around the Hewn City, you end up in one of the dungeon cells to be interrogated by the infamous Spymaster. But things don't go exactly the way the General and the High Lord thought.

Warnings: mentions of sex, allusions to torture and scars

Word count: 6.4k

A/N: Okay sooo, I got a bit carried away with the first part and it came out longer than anticipated, with Az coming in at around word 1.7k. I know it’s a lot without him since it's his appreciation week, but the build-up is worth it (hopefully) and seeing how long the whole fic turned out to be, I hope you don't mind too much. There's still a lot of Azriel, I swear! (and I might have gone a little bit off-topic but shh it's fine). Anyway, happy @azrielappreciationweek everyone!

You knew being here was dangerous.

The Hewn City was not a place you could simply sneak into, and yet here you were, lurking in a corner of the throne room, waiting for the right moment to slip out and search for the treasury.

You had been sent there with a mission: find the Veritas Orb. How your father knew where it was, or what he needed it for, was not information you had been made privy to. But the High Lord of the Autumn Court had been clear: you were to steal the Orb as soon as possible. Knowing the kind of punishment he dealt when disappointed, you always did your best to comply. That left you with little time to prepare and, apparently, a huge number of problems.

Because just as you were about to make an unseen exit through the hallway you had previously selected, every single person in the crowd stiffened, and the chattering stopped abruptly, plunging the room into a silence so deep you could hear a pin drop.

As you turned to see what had happened, you realized everyone was staring at the entrance doors, just as they swung open. One look at the two tall figures slowly stalking in, and you knew you needed to get out before it was too late.

You blended into the shadows against the wall as the Spymaster and the General of the Army made their way to the dais on the other side of the hall. A smudge of red and gold was all you caught out of the corner of your eye when the Morrigan entered, just as you bolted down the hallway.

The High Lord and High Lady would be next. And if they caught you not only in their Court, but in their underground city as well, you'd be in serious trouble. You couldn't risk it. You needed to get out.

Yet you couldn't leave. Not without the Orb. Fear seized you for a split second at the mere thought of the pain you would suffer at your father's hands if you were to fail, and then you broke into a sprint—or as close to a sprint as you could manage with the high heels you had worn to blend in with the Hewn City inhabitants.

A thrum of power reached you despite the distance you had already put between yourself and the throne room, a clear sign of the High Lord and Lady’s arrival. You needed to hurry.

“Damn heels,” you muttered under your breath. You stopped long enough to take them off, gather them in your hands, and resume your run. At least your night-black dress was loose enough around the legs to allow you to move freely.

You had no idea where the treasury was. Your father didn't know, merely telling you the Orb was likely kept there—as if that helped. But you wouldn't consider where else it could be, instead choosing to focus on one thing at a time.

You wandered through the hallways, peering into every room you could find. Most of them were studies, sitting rooms, or smaller chambers for holding court. None of them what you were looking for.

Pushing a heavy wooden door open, you discovered a staircase that spiraled down. The basement. Or dungeons, you guessed, summoning a flame in your hand to light the steps as you began the descent. It made sense for the treasury to be on a lower level—harder to reach and easier to hide. That was where your father kept his most treasured possessions as well.

The stairs ended in a long hallway with many other tunnels branching off. You chose one out of instinct and kept going like that for a while, trying to remember every turn you took. The place was like a maze and there was nothing to, with nothing to distinguish the different paths. But eventually, your seemingly random choices paid off, and/because you found yourself in front of large, unguarded double doors. Upon closer inspection, you realized they were warded, hence the lack of actual guards.

With a smirk, you placed your palm on the knob and summoned more of your power. Your hand became a bright shade of orange, and a thin circle of fire spread from it, growing over the surface of the doors until it burned the spell protecting them. A little trick your oldest brother had taught you years ago.

Pulling your hand away, it returned to its normal color as you shoved the door open and walked inside.

Piles of gold lined the walls, jewels and weapons displayed in glass cabinets, and everywhere you turned, something shiny caught your eye. You delved deeper into the room, discovering beautiful pieces of artwork scattered around, but you couldn’t let them distract you from your task. You began searching the place instead, opening boxes and trunks, anything you could find, but there were no signs of the Veritas. The more you looked, the clearer it became.

The Orb wasn't there.

A frustrated sigh escaped you, and you stifled a groan as you made your way back to the tunnels, picking up the heels you had left by the door.

There had to be another room where more treasure was kept. You just had to find it. You were so sure it would be somewhere nearby that you made a stupid mistake: you didn’t count your turns, didn’t memorize when and where you had gone left or right or straight.

Maybe you should have asked for help before coming here. You had considered it, but you didn't want to endanger more people than necessary—or, even worse, have the truth discovered—and you honestly had thought you could do this alone.

You were wrong, and now you were lost. Like a damn fool.

Too caught up in your worries and rising anxiety, you did not hear the approaching steps. As you turned around the corner, you bumped into a tall, muscular body. A strong hand gripped your arm to keep you from losing balance, and the flame still flickering around your hand went out.

Now only the low gloom of the torches several feet down the tunnel illuminated the darkness.

“There you are.”

You didn’t recognize that deep, almost rough voice, but your heart jumped in your throat at sight of the leathery wings and the black scaled armor adorned with seven crimson Siphons.

You already knew who you were facing when you looked up and met the wary gaze of the General of the Night Court armies, his face half-hidden in the dark.

“There I am?” you repeated, putting on a sweet smile that didn’t reflect your internal turmoil. “Were you looking for me, General?”

His eyes narrowed as he took in your bare feet and the heels you still held in your hand. “What are you doing down here?”

You couldn’t tell if he meant down here in the Hewn City or in the tunnels below the palace. What if he knew the truth? What if he knew who you were? It could have given you a way out, it could have—

But Cassian’s grip on your arm tightened at your silence. “Answer me,” he growled. “We know someone broke into the treasury. And I know it was you.”

You shivered at his tone, at the fear that began to settle inside you, knowing you had been caught. As you tried to find a way out, you heard the words coming out of your mouth as if they were someone else’s: feigned shock at the news, deep confusion at the accusation, refined politeness when you addressed him. Hopefully, it was enough to let you off the hook.

“Why, if I may ask, would you think that was me, General?”

He didn’t seem impressed by your display of innocence. “There are very few redheads in the Hewn City, and none with fire powers. You’re from Autumn.”

Well, shit. You were so used to seeing red-haired Fae in the Autumn Court that you hadn't considered how recognizable your hair—or your powers, for that matter—could be outside of your home.

“I…”

You didn’t know what to say. You had red hair. You were suspiciously wandering in the tunnels. You had broken into the treasury using your fire. How could you find an excuse for all of that?

Your hesitation was confirmation enough for the General. His grip on your arm became almost painful. “Who are you? What were you looking for in the treasury?”

Maybe telling him the truth would help. If you revealed that you were in the Hewn City because you had no other choice, that you were not only Beron’s secret daughter but also his spy, his undercover agent, would he believe you? And if he did, would that make things better or worse for you?

Again, you thought about it for too long.

Cassian’s eyes narrowed even more. “You’re coming with me,” he ordered, nudging you along. “And you will talk, one way or another.”

You didn’t like where this was going. You didn’t like it one bit.

You could burn him, you supposed. Use your fire on him to create a distraction and run away. But you knew what kind of pain it caused, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt someone that way, not even him. And even if you did, where could you run? You didn’t know the place, didn't know where the hallways led or where the hiding spots were. But Cassian did. You wouldn’t get far before he found you.

You let the General lead you even deeper into the dungeons, following him without a struggle, even as the cold air bit at your skin and your gut churned in fear.

After a few minutes, you were escorted inside a small cell. There was nothing but a wooden chair in the middle of the space, right next to a grate on the floor from which hisses and growls rose up. You decided you didn’t want to know what was on the other side.

Cassian took your shoes, placing them next to the door as he gestured for you to sit. You obeyed silently and took a seat, waiting for the handcuffs, for the restraint, for the questions to start.

None of it came.

You just sat there, the General watching you intently from his spot against the wall, his stance relaxed yet alert in case you tried something. He said not a word.

You weren’t sure how much time passed before the door opened again and another male walked in. He was Illyrian too, a sword similar to Cassian’s was strapped to his back, and he wore the same armor. But his Siphons were a shade of cobalt blue, his black hair cut short, and he was surrounded by swirling shadows.

Your breath caught at the sight of the Spymaster.

Azriel’s eyes widened ever so slightly as they settled on you, his shadows frozen around his shoulders. He stood there, wings tucked tightly in, staring at you as if he could see right through your façade.

“Where is Rhys?”

The Spymaster didn’t tear his gaze away from you even as he answered. “He couldn’t leave.” His voice, cold as ice, sent a shiver down your spine. “This is the intruder?”

You held your head up high, reigning in your emotions. You wouldn’t let him intimidate you. You refused to. No matter the stories you had heard about the feared Shadowsinger of the Night Court, you wouldn’t cower. Not before him. You had suffered enough at the hands of your father to know how to deal with fear and pain.

“I found her wandering in the tunnels,” Cassian answered. “Not far from the treasury, hand wreathed in flames. She refused to say anything.”

The Spymaster assessed you, hazel eyes scanning you from head to toe. “Well, that’s about to change.” His hand lingered dangerously close to the black-hilted knife strapped to his muscular thigh.

Your brother's words echoed in your mind. “Tell him what he wants to hear.” “If you fight him, you'll only make it worse.” “Think of something nice, hold on to it, and it'll be over soon enough.” “Behave like the pliant little female he expects you to be.”

If Eris's precious advice had always worked with your father and his particular inclination for painful punishments, then maybe it would work now as well.

Azriel's gaze didn't falter as he stalked toward you, the dagger now clutched in his scarred fingers. You could have sworn his hand trembled for just a split second as he unsheathed it, but you were already looking down at your bare feet, letting your shoulders slump forward and your stiff back relax into a more submissive position.

A pair of black boots stopped right in front of you. Your heart pounded in your chest, your hands holding the armrests so tightly that your knuckles went white. The scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled your nose as cold metal pressed just under your chin, urging you to lift your head.

You didn't fight it, meeting a pair of honeyed eyes that stared at you coolly. So close, you could see the tiny speck of green in them, even with his dilated pupils.

Cauldron, this male was beautiful. Painfully so. Bigger issues begged for your attention, but you couldn't help but admire him—the sharp features of his face, the perfect lines of his jaw, the plush lips, the way a few black curls hung over his forehead.

You didn't dare shift your position, but the urge to clench your thighs was almost overwhelming. The most inappropriate time ever.

Azriel seemed to somehow sense it, because his nostrils flared and the tip of the knife pressed a bit more under your chin, though still not enough to draw blood.

“What are you doing here?”

That voice, like silk and shadows and ice. Now you could understand why everyone feared the Shadowsinger of the Night Court.

“Why were you in the treasury?” he pressed, more demanding than before.

When you didn't answer his questions, he removed the dagger and took a step back. You glanced at the General, still standing by the door, but your focus quickly returned to the Spymaster, who had begun to circle around your chair.

Like a beast about to strike, toying with its prey before the killing blow.

“You know, this would be easier if you talked willingly.”

Shadows wrapped around both your ankles and wrists to prevent any possible movement. He was behind you now, his dagger trailing down your arm, sending all your senses on high alert.

“Or I'll have to resort to more… unpleasant methods.”

Your bindings tightened as if to prove his point and a small gasp escaped your lips. You had to say something, come up with some kind of excuse before it was too late.

“Tell him what he wants to hear.”

What did he want to hear? You couldn't very well give up the truth, could you? But maybe if you did, maybe if you tried…

Your eyes shot to the General. He was studying you with his arms crossed, nothing but distaste etched on his features.

Azriel, now on your left, noticed the direction of your gaze. He watched the other Illyrian for a few heartbeats before speaking in that low, quiet voice of his. “You know I work better when I'm alone.”

You stilled at the words. You, alone in a dungeon cell with the Spymaster? This changed everything—reshuffling all the cards, altering the odds of how this interrogation might end.

Cassian blinked, turning to face him. The two males stared at each other for what felt like ages, a silent conversation passing between them. Eventually, the General sighed.

“Fine,” he grumbled, fingers raking through his dark hair. “But alert Rhys immediately if something happens.”

The Shadowsinger seemed to hold back a scoff. “I know what I'm doing, Cassian,” he replied coolly. “I always get the information I want.”

You swallowed harshly, but Cassian gave a sharp nod and sauntered out of the cell.

As soon as the door closed behind him and his footsteps faded down the hallways, Azriel crouched in front of you, the dagger sheathed at his thigh once more. The shadows restraining you vanished.

“What the hell are you doing here, my love?”

~~~~~~

You and Azriel had met four years prior.

When you were born—the youngest and only female in a clutch of seven brothers—your father decided to keep you in the shadows. He never publicly acknowledged having a daughter, believing that no one would suspect a girl, thus raising you to serve as his undercover agent. Only your family knew of your existence, and if you hadn't gone mad over the years of confinement, it was only thanks to your sweet mother and Eris.

Beron had spent almost a century training you, molding you into his perfect little spy, and then sent you out into the world for just as long to do exactly what he had taught you.

You were attending a ball in the Day Court the first time you saw Azriel. You had already gathered the intel your father wanted about the honored guests from the Dawn Court, but you had no intention of going home earlier than scheduled. You still had until morning. And when the most beautiful male you had ever seen walked into the room as part of the Night Court delegation, you knew exactly how you wanted to spend your remaining time.

You watched him, taking in his muscular body, the massive wings, and the swirling shadows, until his eyes finally found yours through the crowd. You offered him a gentle yet unwavering smile, and your core clenched at the way he studied you as you approached him. Like he was already imagining pinning you beneath him.

It didn't take long for him to do just that. Within minutes, you found yourself in the room he was staying in, your dress discarded on the floor and his head between your thighs.

You had never felt so good as you did in those few hours.

It was almost dawn by the time you were both spent and sweaty, but you fought against exhaustion. You waited for Azriel to fall asleep, and then you slipped out of the room.

He woke up to an empty bed.

The next time you met him was a few months later. The High Lords and High Lady were all meeting in the Winter Court to discuss Prythian’s situation after the war with Hybern, but your father was paranoid. He ordered you to ensure the other courts weren’t plotting a coup against him.

You had just sneaked out of the suite reserved for the High Lord of the Summer Court and his entourage when shadows pooled at your feet, and your back was slammed against the wall. The air was snatched from your lungs at the impact, leaving you little time to take another breath before a dark dagger pressed against your throat.

Despite having spent just one night together, you immediately recognized your assailant by his scent alone.

“Didn't know you were into this kind of thing,” you drawled, looking up to meet Azriel's gaze. “Kinky. I like it.”

His eyes widened slightly as recognition dawned on him, the blade moving an inch away from your neck but no more. “It's you.”

You knew you should be bothered by the dagger, that this was a powerful male not to be trifled with, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Not when you could still remember how his lips tasted and how good he felt inside you.

“Strange way to meet again, uh?”

Azriel didn't return your smirk, nor did he step away. Instead, his voice was cold as death now that his surprise had faded. “Why are you sneaking into the suites?”

You had mastered the art of weaving lies so long ago that the answer flowed effortlessly from your lips. 

“Cresseida was wearing a beautiful necklace at lunch,” you replied with a shrug. “I wanted to see if she left it in her room.”

His eyes narrowed. “So, you're a petty thief?”

Better than the truth, you thought, though a small part of you longed to confide in him, to tell him everything. A deep, innate feeling of trust had somehow bloomed in your chest. You ignored it.

“I'm a simple girl.” You offered him your most charming smile. “I see a shining jewel, and I want it for myself.”

Azriel hummed, knife still at your throat. His eyes scanned your face and you felt like he could see everything you were trying to conceal, all the secrets you'd kept locked away for years.

“You went through the suites of every Court except Autumn,” he mused, the tip of the blade tracing your jaw. You went utterly still. “Why?”

You didn't know how to answer. You didn't even know how he knew that. You'd been caught red-handed, and you had a feeling that any new lie you concocted would be pointless. So you decided to trust your gut.

“Alright.” You took a deep breath—or as deep as you dared with a sharp dagger pressed against your neck. “I work for Beron. He thinks someone might stage a coup, so he sent me to gather information.”

His eyes, which had been roaming over your features and perhaps lingered a second too long on your lips—though that could just be your imagination—snapped up to meet yours. The blade pressed a fraction harder against your skin, a clear sign of his distrust.

“For Beron?” he repeated. Not a hint of surprise or disdain marked his tone, just that icy coldness, so different from the warm voice he'd used to talk you through it in the Summer Court. “And he fears a coup?”

You wanted to sigh but didn't dare. If only he would sheath that damn dagger…

“Yes, that's what I said. And honestly, if someone does, I'm not surprised. I hope it works out for them.”

Azriel's brow arched.

“I mean, the male's horrible. He deserves it.”

You were aware of the dangerous line you were crossing, speaking of your father—your High Lord—like that to an important member of a rival court. You'd never voiced those thoughts aloud to anyone but Eris, and yet here you were. Beron would punish you if he found out. You were first his subject, then his spy, and only then his daughter.

A scarred hand cupped your jaw, Azriel's face now only inches from yours. You could feel his warm breath on your cheeks. “Why do you work for him, then?” he snarled.

His grip on your chin made it impossible to look away, forcing you to meet his golden eyes. In that moment, you let him see your truth, the honesty and vulnerability you never revealed.

“Because I don't have a choice.”

A heartbeat passed, and then his expression softened. You stilled as his hand moved from your jaw to your cheek.

You had seen his scars months ago and immediately recognized what had caused them. Cauldron knew you always kept yours hidden with a glamor, allowing it to dissipate only in the privacy of your bedroom.

Thinking about all your father had put you through made the reality of the situation slam into you. What if Azriel told your father what you had just said? The Night Court and the Autumn Court were not on good terms, but who knew what political machinations were at play behind closed doors. Beron would consider your words a betrayal and punish you accordingly.

Your worry must have shown on your face because Azriel's thumb brushed over your cheekbone, gentle and reassuring. “Your secret's safe with me,” he said softly. He studied you for a moment, and whatever he saw in your expression seemed to convince him to finally put his dagger back into its scabbard at his thigh.

You took a deep, shaky breath, unsure whether it stemmed from believing him or simply from relief at no longer being threatened.

Now free, his fingers brushed over your throat where his blade had been. There probably was a thin pink line there. His featherlight touch sent shivers down your spine.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured.

Your voice was barely a whisper. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

You stared at each other, time seeming to slow down. His shadows peeked from behind his broad shoulders, a few tendrils swirling forward and weaving through your red locks, but your gaze locked on his, your heartbeat quickening. His other hand still cradled your cheek.

“I'm sorry,” you murmured.

“What for?”

‘For lying to you.’

‘For sneaking into your Court’s suite.’

‘Because I can't tell you the whole truth.’

So many easy replies, and all of them true. But one in particular pushed at the corner of your mind, one you hadn't been able to shake for months.

“For walking away right after you fell asleep.”

Something flashed in his eyes, there and gone in an instant, but you didn't recognize what it was. You didn't know him well enough to read every subtle change in his expression. Part of you wished you could.

You waited for him to say something—either to tell you he didn't care or that it wasn't a big deal—but as his silence stretched on, you debated whether you should change the subject or perhaps apologize for bringing it up.

Just as you opened your mouth, Azriel spoke again, but his words were not what you had expected.

“I looked for you the day after,” he whispered, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “But you were gone.”

You couldn't help but stare, so caught off guard that you were completely speechless. You had thought about him often since that night, but you never imagined he might have looked for you in the morning. You were torn between feeling even worse about leaving him and the rapid beat of your heart.

A grin curled your lips as you rested your hands on his chest. Even with his armor on, you could recall the lines of the tattoos swirling across his golden skin, a sliver of black ink peeking from his collar. “I was that good?” you teased.

Azriel chuckled under his breath, the sound like a song to your ears. “You were that good.” He leaned in, his mouth brushing against your ear, teeth grazing your earlobe. “You felt that good wrapped around me.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and you could feel his hard length pressing against your thigh, igniting a desire that made you want to moan.

“Do you want to do it again?”

He barely gave you time to finish that sentence before his lips claimed yours, eliciting a surprised whimper. Your fingers tangled in his curls, his hands cupped your face, and there was nothing sweet or gentle about the kiss as his body pressed yours against the wall and you began to grind on him.

You parted only to catch your breath, but Azriel was already nipping at your neck, and you tilted your head to grant him more access.

When distant footsteps echoed from a nearby hallway, he didn’t even pull away as shadows wrapped around you both. In an instant, they winnowed you into a bedroom you didn't bother to register, too busy pushing Azriel on the large bed and climbing on top of him.

After that time, you began to plan your meetings. It was often a real challenge to find a moment when both of you could slip away from your duties without raising suspicions, but you couldn't risk your families discovering that you were regularly sleeping with a spy from a rival court.

Then, somewhere along the way, it happened. Sex slowly transformed into making love as you both developed feelings for one another, and around one year later, the mating bond snapped into place. You wanted to accept it, but you couldn't shake the dark cloud looming over your head. It was then that you decided to tell Azriel the truth about who you were, who your father was. He was gone for twenty days after your revelation, and you were left wondering whether it was because you had kept it hidden from him for so long or if he truly had a tight schedule and couldn't make time for a secret rendezvous. But when he finally returned, he assured you that whoever your father was wouldn't change or diminish his love for you. That very night, you offered him food, relief washing over you like a balm.

~~~~~~

And here you were, three years and countless secret meetings later.

“What are you doing here?” Azriel repeated, his voice carrying the usual softness he used when speaking to you, but with an edge of nervousness and impatience.

“My father sent me to retrieve the Veritas Orb,” you explained with a sigh. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I didn't want you to have to lie to your family even more. And… I thought I could do this alone.”

Azriel fell silent, his back stiff, his posture rigid. The shadows had retreated behind his wings. Finally, he asked, “What does he need it for?”

You gave him an apologetic look. “He didn't bother to share that information.”

He nodded, as if he had expected that answer. Rising to his feet, he offered you a hand to help you up from your seat. You took it, his skin cold against your palm, and stood with a frown.

“What do we do now?” you whispered, anxious despite Cassian’s absence. “I didn't mean to bring you into this mess, love.”

Azriel let go of your hand to cup your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Don't apologize. I know he didn't give you a choice.” He pressed his soft lips to your forehead. “But I can't let you walk out, angel. We need some excuse.”

Right, because letting you leave unscathed and without any information would only get him in trouble with his High Lord. But leaving without the Orb would get you in trouble. And yet, you would rather endure whatever punishment your father would concoct than let your mate deal with the consequences of your reckless actions.

You stepped back, out of the warmth provided by his body. You had a plan, one you knew he wouldn’t like, but it seemed like the only solution to get you both out of this mess with minimal repercussions. Well, for him at least. You doubted Beron would take pity and turn a blind eye to your failure, but it was worth a shot.

“I need you to hurt me.”

His eyes widened, but you went on before he could object. “You can tell Rhysand I was acting alone, that you made sure I won't be a problem anymore, and I’ll go back to Autumn and tell my father I was caught and tortured. But I need you to hurt me and I need you to make it look believable.”

Azriel was gaping. You had never seen him like this before. You knew how your idea sounded, but you needed him to understand the criticality of the situation and agree to it.

“Az, I—”

“No.”

You blinked. “No?”

Something ticked in his jaw, a subtle clench of his muscle. “No,” he repeated, voice firm and unyielding. “I'm not hurting you, love. You can't just ask me to do that. I won't. I can't.”

You studied him for a moment, but you knew he wasn't going to change his mind.

“Fine,” you sighed, extending a hand toward him, palm up. “Then give me Truth-Teller.”

He frowned, and the shadows swirled around him nervously, as if sensing the direction this conversation was taking. “And why would I do that?”

“You won't hurt me, so I'll do it myself,” you replied, as if the answer was obvious.

His eyes widened. “Y/N—”

“Just a few cuts here and there,” you assured him. “Nothing too bad. But my father has to believe it's real.”

Once again, Azriel stared at you, pale as if he had just seen a ghost. “You can't be serious.”

“You have a better idea?” you retorted. Without waiting for his answer, you reached for the dagger at his thigh. The sooner you could get this over with, the better.

Azriel easily sidestepped you, grabbing both your wrists to prevent you from trying to take his knife again. “I'm not letting you hurt yourself either,” he stated. His grip on you was gentle, but his tone was cold. It was the kind of tone that told you he wouldn't take no for an answer.

But neither would you.

“We don't have a choice, Az,” you countered, your voice steady despite the rising tension. Yet you didn't try to free your hands.

Something shifted in his eyes, in his expression. His thumbs brushed over your wrists in soothing motions, and a pleading note entered his voice when he spoke again. “I can't stand to see you hurt, my love. I don't care about the reason.”

For a few seconds, you just stared into each other's eyes. You were still tense and rigid, and fear coiled in your gut at the thought of going back and facing your father. But Azriel's gaze was soft, scarred fingers never ceasing their gentle caresses. In that moment, you realized that he would rather tell his family the truth than let you go back home battered.

And then it hit you. Though you loved the Autumn Court, it wasn't your home. No, your home was Azriel. He had been for years now. Your safe place, the person you could always count on, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Your mate.

“He won't let me leave,” you whispered, and you hated how weak and vulnerable you sounded.

“You're already here.” Azriel lifted your hands to his mouth and pressed a warm kiss on each palm. “You don't need to leave. You just need to stay.”

You shook your head, tears rising to your eyes. “He sent me here. He knows where I am, and he'll come looking or send someone to find me, or—”

“We'll deal with him,” he interrupted you. “But you'll be safe here. I promise.”

You couldn't hold back the tears, then. He sounded so sure, as if it could ever be that simple. As if you could just make the choice to stay and never go back. You wished you could. With all your heart, you wished it could be as simple as that.

“Az, I… I can't,” you murmured, voice trembling.

He let go of your wrists to cup your cheeks, wiping away your tears. “I will protect you,” he reassured softly. “My whole family will, once they know the truth. You will be safe in the Night Court. And if not, then… then we'll go somewhere else, somewhere far away where Beron won't find us.”

We. Us.

For how long had you wished to hear those words? Even after you two had met, you had never truly been a couple. You had stolen moments whenever you could, but it was always you and him—your duties and his. Never a ‘we’, never an ‘us’.

“Stay.”

You closed your eyes, unable to hold his pleading gaze any longer.

“Stay in the Night Court.”

You swallowed, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders as if it were a physical burden. “Az…”

“Stay with me.” His voice broke, vulnerability spilling into every word. “Please.”

What if it were that easy? What if you could make the decision and simply not go back to the Autumn Court? What if you could spend every day and every night with the person you loved with all your heart, with your mate, and not having to hide, to carefully plan every meeting, to weave lie after lie to everyone around you?

When you opened your eyes, Azriel was staring at you. He was still brushing away your tears, but even through their veil, you could see how beautiful he was. How desperate. How broken.

And you nodded.

“Okay,” you whispered.

His eyes immediately lit up. “Okay?”

“Yes,” you confirmed despite the quiver in your voice. “Yes, I'm… I’m staying. With you.”

You barely had time to finish the sentence before he pulled you into his arms, your face pressed against his chest as he held you tight. You let yourself go, surrendering to the tears and the sobs shaking your body, clutching his leathers to keep your hands from trembling.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your hair, over and over. “Thank you, my love. Thank you.”

You didn't know how long you just stood there. Minutes, hours, days—it didn't matter. You were together now, and you would always be from this moment on. You were home, and never again would you suffer at the hands of your father.

His shadows swarmed around you, caressing your back and arms, twisting in your hair as if they, too, were excited about what would happen next. You didn't know. For the first time in your life, the future was bright, and happiness was within your grasp.

You pulled back only when your tears ran dry. Azriel pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead, and you both smiled, brightly and lovingly, knowing you would not leave each other again.

“Let's get you out of here,” he said eventually, taking your hand and intertwining your fingers. “There's so much to do.”

Like meeting his family. Revealing your identity, who you were and what you did, and hoping they would understand and not hold it against you.

As Azriel stepped back to turn toward the door, you hesitated.

“Can you promise me something?” you asked, your voice quiet and still a bit hoarse from crying.

He stopped, worried eyes immediately searching your face for any sign of discomfort or concern. “Of course, love. Anything you want.”

“It's nothing too big, just…” You offered a small smile and squeezed his fingers. “No more secrets, Az.”

His hazel eyes softened, and his lips curled into a beautiful smile. He nodded, tugging gently on your hand to lead you out of the cell and into your new life. “No more secrets.”

2nd a/n: if the lines "Stay / Stay in the Night Court / Stay with me" reminded you of another very similar quote, you are correct. I had originally written "Stay in the Night Court. Just... stay with me" and it made me think of that quote, which is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books and said by one of my favorite characters ever, so I decided to include it (a little easter egg, if you will). Kaz and Azriel 🤝 simping for the girl they like

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[1-800-ur-cyber-slxtt]

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃; 𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐋𝐄𝐘

summary: your uniform gets shrunken in the wash and shrinks a decent size smaller. Buck who already has feelings for you is more than flustered at the sight of your shirt hugging your plump tits.

word count: 1k

warnings: brief smut (nothing major), plus size!reader, fem!reader, no use of y/n, mentions of tit play + fucking, p in v??

notes: part two incoming

divider credit: @v6que

Buck felt his jaw drop as soon as you walked into the firehouse. The way your fat tits pressed desperately against the navy fabric of your work uniform, the shirt visibly much tighter than usual. His cheeks were already a bright shade of red, hot and embarrassed at the tent already threatening to form in his pants. He adjusted in his seat as you made your way over. Buck tried to hide his arousal from the rest of the team, hoping his flustered state would go unnoticed. 

You let out a sigh as you reach the team, all spread out over the second floor of the station. Bobby was in the kitchen drying some dishes, Chim and Hen on the couch and Eddie with Buck at the table. Everyone’s attention is turned to you, greeting you like usual before they resume their previous activities. You turn to Buck who you’re closest to, noticing how it seems he hasn't looked away from you. You realise his gaze is glued to your chest before it quickly bounces back up to meet your eyes with a hard swallow.��  

You make a defeated- almost embarrassed face as you pull out the chair next to Buck and sit down. “My shirt shrunk in the dryer! All my tops were wet and I was desperate to get at least one dry before my shift.” You pull at the fabric that if it wasn’t for your boobs would be hugging your stomach, wanting desperately for it to be looser. “Lesson learnt, I guess.”, you add with a huff.

Buck, stammering on his words, tries to comfort you, “If it helps, I think you look amazing.” It was painfully clear to Buck now that this was going to be one very hard shift to get through. The knowing chuckle that leaves Eddie’s lips at his best friend barely breaks Bucks trance but it shifts your attention away and onto the dark haired man across from you. 

“What?”, you practically whine, feeling increasingly insecure and annoyed, the shirt making you feel claustrophobic. At least eventually you’d have your gear on and there’d be no need to be insecure. In your rush this morning you hadn’t even remembered to pick up your jacket that could have been worn in the meantime. 

“Nothing.”Eddie shakes his head with a grin. Buck spares him a warning glance, battling to get himself in control. Who would have thought he’d get this worked up over a shrunken shirt. Buck already knew he was attracted to you, painfully aware in fact. Eddie was also aware that his best friend was swooning, always encouraging the blond to make a move. ‘Just ask her out for drinks!’, he’d practically plead so he would stop having to hear Buck’s incessant ranting. But despite Buck’s confident nature and the fact he could probably have any man or woman he wanted, he remained too timid to make a move. 

You roll your eyes only half heartedly, letting a small grin take over your features as you fall into natural conversation with Eddie. Buck stays quiet next to you, daydreaming. Imagining all the things he wants to do with those plump tits of yours. 

He imagines taking off that shirt you’re wearing, your boobs overflowing from the cups of your bra. Palming them with his large rough hands, rolling the hardened nipples between his fingers. His tongue swirling around the swollen buds with almost animalistic need. 

He imagines his hard cock buried between them, throbbing tip pushing out from them with every thrust, hot cum spurting across your chest and chin when he couldn’t hold it any longer. 

He thought about the way they’d bounce as he fucked into you or you rode him. How they’d jolt with every thump of your chest, heart beating fast as you try to catch your breath. Panting like you’d ran a marathon but really Buck had just been fucking you with little to no remorse. 

“Buck? Earth to Evan.” The sound of your voice calling his name snapped Buck out of his thoughts. He wondered how long both you and Eddie had been trying to regain his focus. He looked around at you both with wide confused eyes, a look on his face that could only be described as one of a guilty child, caught red handed. 

He swallows down his embarrassment, “Huh?”, is all he manages to say at first. You and Eddie stare back at him, a small idea of where his mind had run to. Taking in his dilated pupils and beetroot red cheeks, flush rising up his neck. 

“We were asking you if you’re okay. You seem spaced out.”, you say back. Buck normally wasn’t anywhere near this quiet, unless he was upset or brooding. Always actively participating in conversation, half the time you couldn’t get him to shut up. 

“Huh, yeah- uh, I’m fine.”, He stumbles on his words, hastily getting up from his seat. “I’m just- bathroom.”, he mumbles rushing off and down the stairs. Disappearing just as soon as the muddled sentence was leaving his lips. 

You turn back to Eddie making a face, “What’s up with him?”  

He shakes his head, smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, “No clue.” Your eyes narrow, he definitely knew something but you decided not to push it, already have a pretty good idea yourself. Maybe you’d confront him later, especially if he kept acting strange. The thought of following after him briefly crosses your mind but the bell going off shuts that down. 

If Buck had gone down to do what you’d thought then you already knew he wasn’t going to be happy. Going down the stairs with the rest of the team following suit you can tell you’re right. Buck’s coming out of the locker room looking frustrated. He runs a hand through his short curls, irritation exuding from him. The light illuminates small droplets of sweat across his forehead, uniform only slightly messed up. 

You can’t help the smirk that forms on your face. You’d definitely be catching up with him lately, at the very least to tease him.

[lotusofhope]

I do think we could be generous and charitable to the OP of that post but jesus christ is it not the time

we can always do better, we can always be more welcoming, we can always talk about how to improve our language and our issues with interacting with members of any community (even ones with oppression attached) but that is a goal of the left, a lofty one, and is not a problem

Being too mean to white people or men is not the main issue of the left nor is it the number one priority by any means

and you can definitely clown on that guy

but we can also be the bigger person and try to educate him on why he is wrong without invalidating his feelings i guess?

Which is to say, if he feels like he was pushed away by the left, don't give in and say "he's god damned right, we need to coddle men more", but also i guess it can still be a discussion of "how do we best help men understand when groups don't give them the pedestal they've been raised to deserve" not as a flaw of the left but rather as a way to increase our odds of radicalizing people out of their comfort, yet this must NEVER come at the cost of safety of the groups they oppress or giving up our values

Which is to say - for the group oppressed i most identify with to give me some emotional ground I identify with - if someone comes in and says " I just don't understand why y'all hate cis women so much as to attack their safe spaces" but is otherwise charitable to leftist positions, if the people interacting with this perspective progressive who is NOT inheritely evil but instead has just been raised by a transphobic society, if the ambassadors to the left or even random leftists on twitter / tumblr (who may be trans themselves) can handle their internal feelings (which are also valid and MUST be a priority if its not clear!) can charitable risk it being someone who isn't genuine, and hope to walk them through the oppression that is clear as day to them, getting the prospect through to the other side, that would be a good thing even if emotionally difficult.

What we won't do is boost that prospect uncritically and imply that the problems with our movement is that we are too mean to men. That only makes marginalized genders within your community unsafe and resentful, without fixing the problems. Anyone who did that, needs to look at themseleves and ask why they did that.

"as a guy who escaped the alt-right pipeline, [*blames it on Misandry*]"

[thegoogoomuckkk]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a werewolf Gojo and Geto with a female reader? A smut would be nice if possible but if you have any other ideas I’m down to ready anything!! I hope you have an amazing day/night! 😊

NOW PLAYING

ALL BARK, NO BITE

Satoru & Suguru have been fighting over you for a long time, but maybe finally, they’ll learn how to share

Starring: Satoru Gojo & Suguru Geto

Warnings! fem!reader, minor a/b/o dynamics, wolf!gojo & wolf!geto, scenting, oral (f receiving), cucking, knotting, etc.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Gojo & Geto were like brothers. They like the same movies, the same clothes, the same girl. & they fought over everything. You didn’t know if it was a friend thing or a wolf thing; probably just a Gojo & Geto thing. It was always a competition. Who could run faster, who could jump higher, who could fuck you better? & it’s not that you wanted to string either of them along, per se, but how could you possibly choose between one or the other. 

You weren’t entirely unfamiliar with hybrids, but not being one yourself, it was hard to say whether their animalistic rivalry was because of that side of them, or if their friendship was just that extreme. You know that they’re good friends, probably smart enough to not let some girl come in between that, but it’s a Freudian slip that has you doubting yourself. 

They’d been trying to pin you down for weeks. Who was better, which one did you want? Almost jokingly, you laughed & shrugged & said, “What if I want you both?” 

The words had barely left your mouth when you saw their eyes flash with something primal. A low growl rumbled from Geto's chest, while Gojo's lips curled into a predatory smirk. The air in the room suddenly felt charged, electric. Then Gojo's lips curled into that infuriating smirk of his. “Both, huh? Think you can handle us?”

Geto circled behind you, his breath hot on your neck. ‘You think you can take us both? Together?” They moved in perfect sync, circling you like predators. This was uncharted territory, dangerous & thrilling all at once. 

Your heart raced as their presence surrounded you, making you feel small & vulnerable, yet strangely exhilarated. You swallowed hard, your mouth dry. "I…I don't know. Maybe? That isn’t really what I m-m–”

“Aww, c’mon, don’t back down now, sweetheart. Can’t say somethin’ like that n’then take it back,” Geto purs, slipping a hand up your shirt, nosing at the back of your ear, down your neck, as Gojo grips your chin, tilting your head up to his. Your breath catches in your throat as Gojo's piercing blue eyes lock onto yours. His thumb traces your lower lip, sending shivers down your spine, & you look…scared, prey-like, & Gojo’s almost embarrassed to admit how hard that makes him. "We're just getting started," Gojo murmurs, his voice low & husky, & Geto hums in agreement, hands wandering farther & farther, one of his thumbs hooking the waistband of your pants down slowly & the other pushing at your bra. Gojo herding the both of you to the bed. 

"Don't worry," Geto whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "We'll take good care of you." Your eyes flicker closed as Gojo leans in, his lips barely grazing yours. "Just relax," he says softly. "Let us make you feel good." & he says it with such determination that you can’t hardly object. 

With a gentle tug, he removes your sticky panties, revealing a clear trail of your arousal. As he admires your glistening folds & teases your sensitive clit with his fingers, Satoru is positioned in front of you by Suguru. Completely under Suguru's control, Satoru follows his every direction without hesitation, but he can’t help sticking his face in your pretty cunt, tongue lapping at your mess, nosing bumping against your clit, whining at how good you taste. Suguru guides his fingers back to your dripping entrance & then has Satoru suck them clean. Satoru moans loudly at the taste of you, clearly enjoying every moment of it.

Suguru takes a rough grip of Satoru's leaking cock & rubs it against your slick clit, eliciting moans from both of you. He guides Satoru's hips & helps him ease into your tight heat. Whimpering starts to escape Satoru's lips as he struggles to process the overwhelming sensations. But he doesn't tell Suguru to stop, so he continues on. You also struggle with the new feeling of being filled by something so large, gripping onto the pillows for dear life. Suguru sets a slow pace, guiding Satoru in & out of you with his hands. He pauses to let Satoru feel you fully before resuming the steady rhythm. Your walls clench around him tightly, causing him to cry out & seek comfort in the crook of your neck. Despite the tears streaming down his face, it's an incredibly arousing sight for both you & Suguru. He encourages Satoru to make you feel good too, & he responds by licking your sensitive neck, & you don’t think he even realizes he’s doing it, it’s so instinctual for him. You don’t have much room in your head for big thoughts, but faintly you’re surprised that Geto isn’t the one fucking you. & yet, he’s still in complete control of the situation. 

His hips start moving faster, creating loud wet sounds as your bodies collide with each thrust. Suddenly, you let out a cry & tell Suguru that you feel strange, like your stomach is aching. He reassures you & urges you to let go. 

Geto's intense stare traced every curve & movement of your body. He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he spoke. "You're doing so well," he praised, his voice husky, "such a good girl for us." His dirty words only added to the rush of arousal between your legs, causing you to become even more soaked with desire.

Your body trembles as you approach the edge, overwhelmed by the dual sensations of Satoru inside you & Suguru's commanding presence. Geto's words push you even closer, his praise igniting something primal within you.

"That's it," Geto murmurs encouragingly. "Let it all go. Show us how good we make you feel.” & you’re sure you’ll never get used to Gojo’s knot; it’s not just the overwhelming size, but that way it holds you in place, the loss of all friction, just being entirely full of him & there’s nothing to relieve the immensity of it. 

With a cry, you finally tumble over the precipice. Waves of pleasure crash over you as your orgasm washes through your body. Your walls clench rhythmically around Satoru, pulling him deeper. He whimpers against your neck, his hips stuttering as he struggles to hold back his own release.

Suguru's hand tangles in Satoru's hair, tugging his head back. "Not yet," he orders firmly. "Make her come again first."

At first, you’d been worried you were driving a wedge between Gojo & Geto’s friendship, but you can put that worry to rest because clearly, you’re what’s holding them together. 

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

first of all: thank you anon!!! I love getting requests & I actually had something written like this for Kinktober & ended up not posting it, so I'm glad I could use it! I hope you're having a great day too!!! <3

secondly: I don't think I have the whole hybrid/omegaverse thing on lock yet, it's just no my strong suit, so I'm sorry if this was not great or if parts of it didn't make sense

third: cuck!geto.........that's all <3

LOOKING FOR SOME MORE? MASTERLIST <3

LOOKING FOR SOMETHING SPECIFIC? ASK <3

[hannah-louise-97]

🍃THE RIVERS EDGE🍃

Just a Noa/Mae drabble I came up with this evening, I might continue it 🤭

@nomae-week-2024

-adult content-

-18+

~

It had been approximately three months. After Mae left Noa that day, she couldn’t stop thinking about him and how she felt protected with him around, wishing she would one day, by coincidence, stumble across him.

She wasn’t really welcome back with the humans due to being immune to the simian flu but still at risk of carrying it. She felt more alone than ever and missed Noa terribly.

She clung onto the symbol that Noa gave to her with one hand as it rested against her chest and held onto the reigns tightly with the other as she travelled on horseback through the forest in the hopes of finding a safe place to settle for the evening.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the trees as she travelled, the golden sun rays shone onto the ground and danced with the movement of the leaves. Looking to her left, she saw the faint sparkle of a river.

Slowing her horse down to a stop and dismounting, she walked over to the riverbank and looked around, listening to the gentle flow of water along with the birds singing. She closed her eyes, and the golden shimmers sparkled onto her face, but she still struggled to shake Noa from her mind.

Unknowingly to Mae, Noa was close by, he dismounted from his horse and looked around, making sure that it was safe to camp out there for the night.

Mae stood up, finally deciding that she wanted to bathe. She began taking off her clothes, unaware of Noa standing not too far away, and he wasn’t aware of her presence yet either.

Noa crouched down and set up his sleeping place, eventually satisfied that it looked comfortable enough, although he wasn’t too fussed about sleeping on hard ground. He smiled with approval but stopped abruptly when he heard rustling not too far from him. Glancing up, his eyebrows quickly lowered when he saw movement. Then, when his eyes finally adjusted, he saw her, the pale skin that seemed to glow in the suns rays.

Mae slowly stepped into the river, her breath quickening with the sudden temperature change, she stood there for a moment to get used to the cold water.

Noa’s eyes widened, he wasn’t sure what to do, if course he was glad to see her. But as he stood completely still and watched, the feelings from when he last saw her came flooding back. Scolding himself that she wasn’t of his kind, he couldnt help but stare for a little too long, it had definitely caught him off guard, but after observing for a while, he finally made the decision to grab his blanket from his saddle and walk over to her. Was it a mistake? He didn’t know, didn't exactly care either. He just wanted to get a better look.

Mae sank lower and lower into the river until all that was showing was her head, she hummed softly with relaxation. Unknowingly to her, Noa slowly edged closer, his eyes narrowing with curiosity as he watched her lean back and close her eyes whilst the gentle lapping of water covered her.

Noa reached the waters edge and crouched down. A feeling quickly came over him that he had never felt before, and the faint sound of his intrigued grunts escaped his throat.

As he laid the blanket onto the grass for Mae to step out onto, his eyes never left her. Tilting his head, he was completely mesmerised and not able to break away from the urge of wanting to see more of her. he couldn’t help it. His eyes narrowed to try and get a better look, but the waters shimmers made it impossible for him to see the details on her chest.

Mae opened her eyes slowly, and the suns brightness made her squint. Sitting up and giving her eyes time to adjust until she could see clear enough, she looked at the riverbank and noticed the blanket that Noa had laid out. Smiling, she instantly realised it was his, and stepped out onto the bank.

 

 Noa stood with his back against a tree, his mind racing. Experiencing this feeling he had never felt before made him question a lot of things, causing him to let out an irritated sigh. He didn’t look at her, not once. He was lost in wondering why he felt these certain feelings towards her. Scrunching up his nose and repeating the phrase;

“She is... a human”

Mae looked at him as she dried herself the best she could with the blanket. She walked over to her horse and began putting on her clothes until Noa cleared his throat, making her pause.

 

“she is... beautiful” he said, still looking away from her.

“Huh?” She spun around to face him, raising a brow.

His gaze darted from left to right until he finally composed himself enough to ask “you are... camping here, too?”.

Mae nodded but was in shock. She had wanted to see him again for so long but could only manage to gawk at him with, was he taller than before? She could see from his side that he was wearing more feathers underneath his arm cuff.

Walking closer to him, she had the realisation that she was naked, but Noa was an ape. He surely wouldn’t care, right?

“I thought I smelt too terrible to be around, Noa?” She taunted.

He smirked as his green eyes cautiously trailed in her direction but still unable to look directly at her “You bathed... there is... an excuse”

He turned to face her, and seeing her uncovered caused him to hold his breath. It almost made him want to pounce on her there and then. He wondered what this feeling was. Why did he feel this way for a human? He turned away and wrinkled his nose, trying to shake it off.

Mae turned and picked up her clothes, leaving Noa to his instinct but unknowingly to her, it was growing too strong for him, he glanced up at her body and the sudden vision of him pinning her to a tree and biting onto her collarbone sent him into a spin. He shook his head quickly, trying to snap himself out of it.

“So why are you out here?” Mae asked, but was startled when she turned back around and bumped into him. Noa had moved closer to her without her knowledge.

She looked up at him and saw his emerald eyes staring down at her. Before she could speak, the fur on his torso brushed off of her bare breasts, causing her to shudder. She gulped uncontrollably and dropped her clothes, wondering if it was really happening.

Mae knew that this fantasy had been swirling around her mind for such a long time, but now, the feeling she had was almost too much.

Noa kept his eyes on her “you are... beautiful” he spoke in a low gravelly whisper.

Mae didn’t reply, she stood there holding her breath and staring up at him and feeling his hand touch softly against hers, she knew that it was dangerous, but now hearing him growl as he leaned closer to her made her realise that he felt the exact same way for her.

[cat-tyy]

Actually something pops into my head.

I just don't know how to start it lol

When I found a kid frantically slashing at the rose bushes, with a sword not mend for his size, it struck to me. I'm in sleeping beauty's story. I was wonder if I could interfere this time. "Hello child" I called, with a smaller voice than intended. "Who goes there?!" "Show yourself at ones!" the panicking child is seeking with desperation in his eyes. "Ah, sorry, I wasn't.. Trying to scare you." looking the boy up and down i continued "people usually don't react to me..." a loud silence. "Are you a witch!? People go on and on about witches these days! Show yourself! Leave my friend alone!" the child keeps getting angry with everything he says. "N-no I'm not, more of a ghost?" "atleast don't stammer when you lie to me! You're definitely a witch! Or a wizard, are you a wizard? Can you help my friend please?" the child has a lot of doubts in his voice but his eyes keep looking at the fast growing bushes. "Are the bushes always doing this? " trying to break the situation away from me and redirecting his growing angry at the bushes. Without saying anything he goes back to chopping.

He doesn't seem to hear me anymore, everything I say falls to deaf ears. Well it was fun while it lasted. The child, the prince if i remember correctly, was supposed to save the princess who fell to eternal sleep or something. With a kiss of true love? I looked at the kid, who just wants to save his friend. I can't remember anyone who was at the prince's side in the story. While I was just talking with myself, we got to the entrance of the castle.

Everyone was moving and busy. No one was sleeping along? I thought that that was part of the story. Prince just storms in and everyone seems to ignore him. Is that how you can treat a prince? The prince makes an dramatic entrance by full swinging the door "ROSA! Let's get some sun today!" the prince looks at her with desperation in. "I'm not going... You know I can't come..." the girl sound so incredibly sad, she doesn't look up to look at him. Just tucks her blanket over her head.

After listen for awhile hearing those children speak, laugh and snack on things the prince took with him. I figured out the girl, Rosa, has heard the story about the spinning wheel when she was 10 years or so, after finding out she refused to get out of her bed and her family didn't do anything to get her out and eventually she got the ability to grow those rose. My time here is almost over and i still can't make myself clear, I can't hug them i can't console them nor can I shout at the adults who didn't even help a child with problems far larger than she could handle. I get a weird question in my head again "WHAT DID YOU LEARN THIS TIME?" it announced judt like everytime. "The a adults in this world are garbage and should all be replaced! Well thats not really a phrase... Let's go with, friends over family" proudly I pop back in my room and decide to sleep for a while. "I really hope those kids will find a better place"

As an adult you keep getting pulled into a fantastical world meant for children to learn lessons. The problem is you keep learning the wrong lesson.

[solxamber]

Good morning/evening/ whenever you're reading this.

May I request Silver, Malleus, and Ace with someone who's like a sheep in wolfs clothing? Basically someone who seems intimidating and scary but is actually nice if that makes sense. Romantic or platonic is fine.

Malleus, Silver, Ace with a Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

hi! thank you for waiting, i hope this is what you wanted <3

Malleus Draconia

At first, Malleus is absolutely enchanted by the way you carry yourself. Your cool exterior, fierce glances, and aura of danger? He’s genuinely impressed. In his eyes, you’re practically royalty, strolling through campus with an air of mysterious authority that rivals his own.

But one evening, when the two of you are alone, he watches as you carefully kneel down to help a tiny creature—a shivering, injured bird, fallen from its nest. He’s speechless as you whisper gently to it, cooing softly as you tuck it into a makeshift cradle from your scarf.

“Ah, so even the fiercest can be kind,” he says, thoroughly charmed.

You look up, cheeks red. “What? No, I mean— I wasn’t… fierce,” you mutter, trying to explain away your rough side.

Malleus lets out a low chuckle, genuinely amused. “There’s no need to pretend with me, Child of Man. I find this side of you… endearing.” And with that, he offers his arm, as if escorting the most dignified person he’s ever met—like of course you’d be kind.

And every time he sees you after, he watches you just a little bit closer, hoping to catch more glimpses of the sweet, gentle heart beneath your “terrifying” façade.

Silver

Silver’s first impression? Oh, you were fierce, alright. With that intense stare and sharp wit, he thought you were the kind of person who could take on a horde of fire-breathing dragons without blinking.

But it doesn’t take him long to notice the little things: how you’re the first to offer help in a quiet, unassuming way. Or how you gave Grim half your lunch when he wouldn’t stop whining about his empty plate.

One day, he finally works up the courage to ask. “You’re… not like most people expect, are you?”

You blink, caught off guard. “Uh… how do you mean?”

He tilts his head thoughtfully. “You seem… gentle. Like someone who cares more than they show.” He says it simply, but with a warm smile.

“Oh! I—well, I guess…” You clear your throat, trying not to look too pleased. “Yeah, I try to be. Is that… weird?”

Silver chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Not at all. I think it’s admirable.” And with that, he goes back to his usual quiet self, though you notice he hangs around a bit more often, maybe just to keep an eye on you—or to be near you, enjoying the company of the sweetest “wolf” he’s ever met.

Ace Trappola

Ace was 100% convinced you were bad news when he first saw you. The way you stood, arms crossed and serious, maybe even a little cold, he thought for sure you were a total menace. So when he finds you one day, crouched down and helping a stray cat drink from a cup you’d brought, he actually does a double-take.

“You… feed stray animals?”

You look up, blushing furiously. “Uh… yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

He bursts out laughing, clapping his hands. “Oh man, and here I thought you’d, like, fight a cat if it came too close!”

You roll your eyes, trying to act annoyed, but you can’t help but laugh, too. “Yeah, yeah, real funny.”

After that, Ace doesn’t let you live it down. He’ll pull you along when he sees a lost animal just to watch you fuss over it, teasing you the whole time. “Oh no, don’t let the fearsome ‘tough guy’ break out the baby voice again!”

But despite the endless teasing, he genuinely loves seeing you drop the act and show your soft side. And even if he won’t say it out loud, he thinks it’s pretty awesome having a friend as kind—and surprisingly tender—as you.

Masterlist

[everythingisromant1c]

p2: three reasons why you can't stand co-star!james potter

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: you were finding the first days of shooting your new TV show to be absolutely amazing, aside from the fact that you absolutely could not stand your co-star James Potter. unfortunately for you, you spent enough time around him to narrow down his most irritating qualities to only three:

a/n: hey so this took waayyy longer than i would've hoped to release, but i promise this series is not going anywhere, so tysm for all the loveee and all ur guys' patience <33

also pls pls pls feel free to send in prompt requests for this series i am so all ears

full series: Trouble in Hollywood - masterlist

1. He was insufferably good at his job

You wished you could say working with James Potter was such a challenge because he was simply bad at his job. But the thing was: he wasn't. It turned out he was really the impeccably good actor that your director Minerva seemed to swear he was, as if the talent truly was seeping through his veins. Somehow, that only made working with him more frustrating to you.

"Aaron, you've got to believe me."

James had come to you during the middle of hair and makeup and asked you to rehearse lines with him even before official rehearsals for the day's shooting began, saying it would make him feel more prepared. And, as much as you hated it, you felt the same. Your only regret was thinking you'd be able to stand him and his arrogance before seven in the morning.

"Why should I, Cassidy?"

The brunette responded to you fully in character, leaning back against a nearby vanity with his long legs crossed in front of him as you sat in your cushioned chair. He apparently got out of hair and makeup in under a matter of minutes, looking effortlessly put together with his curls hanging perfectly over his forehead—you didn't have the same luck. Your lovely makeup artist Mary seemed to be unbothered by the interruptions, continuing on with your makeup as you rehearsed your lines, though you caught her amused smile every once in a while from her reflection in the mirror.

"Because..." you began, trying to stay in character as your brain scrambled for your next line.

"You're supposed to say," cut in James, "'-because we can only trust each other right now.'"

"Please stop telling me my lines, James." You repeated the irritated request you'd uttered all morning to him as you put a tired hand to the bridge of your nose, one that Mary moved away hurriedly.

"Watch your makeup," she pleaded with a powder-filled brush to your nose , and you winced apologetically.

"Did you just want me to stand here and wait for you to remember them?" James's voice poked at you irritatingly as you stared up at him from your seat.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want." You fought from rolling your eyes. "You could at least give me a second. I didn't even ask for my line."

He raised his brows with an acquiescent sigh. "Whatever the lady wants."

Ignoring him, a skill you were growing like a muscle, you cleared your throat in focus, trying not to move too much as Mary blended some product on your neck. "Because we can only trust each other right now."

James quickly jumped back into character, right on time. "That didn't mean anything to you the other night."

"I already told you I'm sorry for that. When I heard all the rumors, I ..." you cursed at yourself as your mind drew another painful, embarrassing blank.

"-I didn't know what to think." James looked anything but guilty as his voice met your ears once again, finishing your line for you without fail.

"James!" You glared at him, doing your best to stay out in your chair and not storm out of the trailer he'd so brazenly infiltrated. You shook your head to yourself through your reflection in the brightly lit mirrors . "You're impossible."

James shrugged innocently. "I don't get why you're mad at me for trying to help."

"I'm not."

He scoffed, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. "So is this what you look like when you're happy with me?" The corner of his aggravating lips lifted along with his shoulder in a small shrug, before turning away again. "Isn't very much like how I've pictured it."

You didn't miss the way Mary let out a small breath of laughter from her nose as she switched over to doting on your hair. You gritted your teeth.

"I mean, I'm not mad at you for helping. I'm mad at you because you're annoying."

He crossed his arms defensively, his lips still quirked up, and you fought against the urge within you that had your eyes following the movement of his biceps. "I'm annoying?"

The feigned disbelief in his voice snapped your back to your right mind.

"Yes," you answered plainly. "You and your posh accent."

Maybe you'd stopped making sense, but it was too early for you to care. James was watching your meltdown with what you could only identify as merriment, his unfortunately unignorable presence taking up too much space in the cramped makeup trailer.

Thankfully choosing to ignore the part about his accent, he put up his hands innocently. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who keeps forgetting their lines."

"We just got the updated script for this episode last night." You shifted in your chair to face him, and you heard Mary wince from behind you, probably getting fed up with how much you were moving around, though you were too annoyed to stop yourself. "How the hell are you already off-book?"

James shrugged smugly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned forward. You squinted your eyes at him. "An actor never reveals his secrets, love."

You twisted your mouth in disgust at his words—because you definitely felt something as he said them, whether it was disgust or not you didn't want to think about—and probably only made him more satisfied. "Mary," you groaned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you. "I think I'm going to be sick."

She shook her head and gave your reflection a sharp look back. "Not in that freshly ironed shirt you're not."

You sighed, settling back into your chair and sparing another glance at the man to your right. He tipped his head at you, almost tauntingly, and you felt your jaw tighten. It was going to be a long day.

2. Everyone else seemed to love him

You'd been going about your Thursday innocently, filming scenes when called upon—finally having memorized all your lines properly—and somehow getting through the morning without any irritating interactions with your least favorite person on set at the moment. That good feeling, of course, could only last so long.

"What's this?"

Minerva, your director, had been walking around set with you until you both stopped at the sight of a crowd forming outside one of the sets. You followed her, making your way through the crowd of your fellow actors and crew members until you were met with a nauseating sight: James Potter.

At the sight of your director, his already proud smile grew to a beaming one, almost blinding, as he greeted her. "We've all been really busy with this week's filming schedule, Minnie, and you mentioned what a hassle it's been ordering enough food for everyone every day with our budget, so I pulled some strings and got my family's chef to cater our lunch."

Your jaw slacked as he nodded his head to his left, where a number of tables were set up with what looked like pizza ingredients, a moustached-man in a chef hat standing behind the scene proudly. You couldn't believe your eyes. Apparently, neither could the woman next to you.

"Oh my- James this is ... amazing!" Minerva—or Minnie, as James somehow had grown accustomed to calling her—turned to your co-star, expression as bright and beaming as James's crowd-pleasing smile was. "But you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble-"

"It was no trouble at all. Francis was more than happy to help."

He waved a hand at the chef, who you assumed was the 'Francis' in question, who nodded back at him happily with a pizza cutter in his hand. It was like something out of a movie, the way everyone clapped for James who stood at the front of the crowd like the beloved man he was. You felt sick to your stomach.

"What's wrong? Do you not like the pizza?"

You'd taken your lunch shamefully, making sure to hide your amazement at the endless selection of pizza toppings that James had arranged at the build-your-own-pizza station, and were sitting with Remus, who you'd met at auditions for the show and luckily got casted in a role other than one that'd gone to James, and Sirius, another one of your co-stars who you'd quickly become friends with since you spent practically all your time on set nowadays.

You looked up at Remus briefly before returning your gaze to the pizza in front of you, the perfect slice underneath the sun seeming to taunt you. "No," you grumbled. "The pizza's amazing."

Sirius chuckled. "You'd think you'd be happy about that."

"I would, aside from the fact that it was Potter who brought it in."

The black-haired man tipped his head at you curiously. "What's your problem with James again?"

You shook your head forebodingly. "Don't tell me he's brainwashed you both with his hundred-dollar pizza too."

"I doubt the pizza's that much money." Remus bit into the slice in his hand, talking through the bite. "But it is pretty delicious."

"It is," Sirius nodded. "It was pretty nice of him to cover lunch for the day. If anything, you'd think you'd like him more for this."

You groaned. "He brought in his family's private chef, for God's sake. It's not like he rescued a cat from a tree or something."

Sirius and Remus shared a look as you spoke. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you currently lacked enough dignity to care as yet another slice of pizza sat on your plate, ready to be eaten.

"James is actually a really nice lad," reasoned Sirius. "Take it from us. We kind of grew up with him."

That fact had yet to escape you as soon as you'd met the two of them. According to the stories they'd relayed to you, Remus's mum had been an on-set tutor to James growing up when he was acting in some movie, while Sirius's parents had been producers for some of James's parents' films. Safe to say, the three of them certainly left you feeling inexperienced in the world of acting.

"James should be the least of your worries," urged Remus. "He's harmless."

"If he's so harmless, then why has he gone out of his way to be a pain in my ass since I met him?"

Sirius snorted. "We said he's harmless, not that he's not an idiot sometimes."

"But," Remus added, "whatever James has done, just know that it always comes from a good place. The man doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

You sighed inwardly. The James Potter you knew seemed to be very different from the one that everyone else seemed to be familiar with, and it was driving you crazy.

3. He was an obnoxious flirt

When you said 'flirt', you not only meant that he flirted with you—unfortunately—but that he seemed to flirt with anyone in sight, whether he realized it or not. In fact, you'd been forced to watch as he smooth-talked one of the hairstylists on set for the past ten minutes.

You couldn't hear everything they were saying, thank god, but you were sure she was probably more charmed by the fact that his last name was Potter than anything he could remotely come up with to win her over. You'd had enough conversations with him to know that the movie-star smiles he offered were enough to charm people before they realized just how insufferable he was.

After what felt like hours, he said something to the woman in parting and left her looking flushed and smiley as he strolled away. You sighed, happy to finally be rid of distractions, and looked back down at the script on your lap that you were trying to memorize but stopped almost immediately as you felt an unwelcome presence lingering from in front of you. You looked up and fought a groan.

James tipped his head at you innocently. "You wanted me?"

You tensed at his phrasing and did your best to go back to ignoring him as you focused back on your script. "I did not."

Not taking the hint, as usual, he stayed put, shoving his hands in his well-tailored pockets. "Well, you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes, so I just assumed you had something to say."

"Well, you assumed wrong." You gave him a tight-lipped smile from where you sat. "And I wasn't staring. I just miraculously found it hard to concentrate on memorizing lines when you were harassing that hairstylist right next to me."

He squinted at you quizzically before shaking his head, finding your banter more amusing than you probably were. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me."

You scoffed, blinking rapidly to truly portray your disbelief. "You wish. Reality is, Potter—I think I hate you."

James peered at you with a glint in his eye like he'd never heard anything more amusing, leaning back against the wall next to you. "You think?"

You shrugged tightly. "The jury hasn't come to a decision just yet." You thought back to the unfortunately delicious pizza he'd provided, and all the things that Remus and Sirius had said to you that stood in stark contrast to practically every other experience you'd had with him.

James grinned, finding teasing you the most entertaining part of his day, even on set for a TV show. "So I still have a chance?"

His eyes glistened and you reeled. "A chance to what? Did you not hear the 'hate' part?"

"Hate is a strong word, don't you think?"

You shook your head. "Strong, but appropriate."

"Ouch." He touched his hand to his chest in that dramatic way he always did, something you blamed on his actor roots. "Your words hurt, you know." You rolled your eyes, truly trying then to get back to memorizing your lines so James would have nothing over you during filming the next day, but he didn't seem to care. "Look, I get it. You said you hate me. But really, I don't think you do."

You sighed, setting your script aside as you looked up at him with finality. "And why is that, Potter?"

"Because," James began, and you didn't like the tease in his tone as he looked down at you. "A little birdie told me you had some say in whether or not they cast me in South Bay. And that you actually encouraged it."

Your lips parted, those words being the last ones you expected him to say after weeks had gone by since the chemistry read. You didn't know who'd ratted you out, but whoever did would be getting a stern talking to. Or a partially stern one, since they were more than likely your boss.

You shrugged weakly at him. "That ... that doesn't mean anything."

James's thick brow lifted effortlessly. "So you're not denying it?"

At his challenging look, you relented with a drop of your shoulders. "I'm not. It's true; I told Minerva I think they should choose you to play Aaron becuase you are good at your job, James. As much as it annoys me. I mean, you're clearly a great actor, you get all your lines memorized overnight, not to mention the entire crew is in love with you for some reason-"

"Oh, I see."

You paused, looking at the way James's slight grin turned into a shit-eating one. "What?"

He tipped his head at you tauntingly. "You're jealous."

You let out a laugh harsher than you meant it to be. "Please. There's nothing about you I could possibly waste my energy being jealous over."

The brunette tutted, and you hated the feeling it sent through you. "For such a great actress, you're not a very good liar."

You felt your breathing shallow for a moment, not knowing what to do with the compliment that flowed so easily from his lips like he hadn't given it a second thought. You pushed the thought aside, focusing on the insult part of his statement instead, and rolled your eyes.

"Look," James continued at your expression. "Jealous or not, we're going to have to work together on this show for God knows how many more months. Years even, if it gets renewed for a second season." The thought both filled you with excitement and dread as it came from James's lips. He looked down at you with an honest curiosity. "How much longer can you go on pretending to hate me?"

You noted that what he was saying was true, letting the words sit in your chest for a moment, but you also noted that you had more fun being petty. You tilted your chin up at him. "Funny that you think I'm pretending."

James put a hand on the table you were sitting at, leaning forward slightly and making you freeze up. "Funny that you're still not a good liar, love."

Your throat felt tight with something you wanted to again dismiss as disgust at both his proximity and the delicate word that fell from his lips. You let an unpleasant pinch form between your brows. "I thought I told you not to call me that."

James felt something warm, almost giddy, form in his chest, and it didn't matter that you looked like you were considering slapping him right then. He let the corner of his lips quirk up. "You're adorable when you're mad."

"Don't call me that either." You huffed, picking up your still un-memorized script and standing. "I'm going to my trailer."

James quirked a brow, following you with only his eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

You rolled your eyes, walking away and calling over your shoulder. "Absolutely not."

taglist:

@ilovejamespottersomuch @empath-bunny @santaasi @veysxrge @bitterspoons @ladyhestiaa @rorybear14

[measuredingold]

i was free in the fall

authors note: something short and sweet :) listened to homesick by dayseeker and it struck a chord within me ( as it always does lol ) and thought, hey... what if i write something based off that ? title comes from the song. feedback is always appreciated and i hope you enjoy !

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

cross-posted on ao3

word count: 789

cw/tw: established relationship, long distance relationship, fluff and angst ?, Noah Sebastian Is Sort Of Bad At Feelings But He's Trying, sweet lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It comes to him slowly, your voice filling his every sense. If he'd shut his eyes it almost feels like you're there. Almost. He sucks in a deep breath as you continue on about your day, eyes fluttering shut as he imagines you next to him.

Tonight they're in a hotel, having a few days off in between shows and wanting to sleep in a real bed for the first in weeks. He imagines you curled up next to him, whispering to him like you normally did. He can feel your fingertips tracing over the art on his chest, and he can't help but shiver at the thought of you touching him.

Something weighs on him, heavy on his chest, and he frowns into the darkness of his room. Some of the guys went out while he stayed back, wanting nothing more than to hear your voice, yet he still feels... He isn't exactly sure. It's a new feeling he's never actually felt before. Longing for something unfamiliar and it's settling so heavily onto his chest, he almost feels like he can't breathe.

He sucks in another deep breath, eyes squeezing shut as he holds his phone up to his ear. He tries to focus on your voice, the way he can imagine your lips wrapping around certain words, but it only makes the feeling deeper. His stomach twists as the realization slowly creeps upon him, almost like it had been there all along.

He misses home.

He misses you.

This is uncharted territory, an unfamiliar feeling because he doesn't even remember the last time he missed home. Whatever the fuck that was.

Home was sometimes a figment of his imagination, something he never got to truly experience. The older he gets, the more he tries to make this so-called home. It was weird, and he never caught himself missing it that much while on the road. Yeah, he missed his bed and the moments he could get to himself. The peace and quiet and familiarity of his room, but that was it.

And it was never a person.

His mind races as he tries to picture what home looks like right now, your face popping up in every scenario he can think of. You crawling into bed after him, him settling on your couch next to you as you flip through Netflix, you asking him what you two should do for dinner that night, you, you, you.

"...Noah?"

He blinks, hard. His thoughts come to an abrupt stop when he hears you call his name, and he suddenly can't remember the last thing you said. Had he been so caught up in his thoughts that he completely blocked you out?

"Hm?" He clears his throat, sucking in a shaking breath.

"You alright, bub? Got quiet on me."

Noah isn't sure what to say. This is still fairly new. He's known you for years but this new relationship between the two of you was fresh. He still caught himself holding back on how he truly felt, hung up on the what ifs and if it will work out for the long run, but tonight... he doesn't think he'll hold back.

With one last shaking breath, he says, "Just thinking about you."

"Oh." You sound taken aback by that, huffing out a laugh. "And what exactly are you thinking about?"

"How much I miss you." He feels so vulnerable saying it, almost scared you'll say something about him being emotional when he usually never is. "And how much I can't wait to come back home."

Your silence on the other end scares him even more, stomach twisting in a way he feels like he could throw up at any given moment. He shouldn't have said anything, should've said it was nothing and let you continue on. He opens his mouth to brush it off, to tell you that it's whatever, but your voice stops him.

"I miss you, too, baby."

Your voice was so soft, he almost couldn't hear you. But he did. He heard it. He felt it. From his toes all the way to the top of his head. His face warms, cheeks growing red as each second passes, and he can't stop the way his heart pounds against his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Of course." You mumble. "Been missin' you the second you left."

"Me too." He whispers it, too scared that if he said it any louder.

The silence that follows doesn't loom as much as it had before, a sort of comfortableness settling over it. He doesn't have to say it, because he knows you know. He knows you feel the exact same way he does in that very moment, and that's enough for him right now.

[rosenclaws]

Oh boy! First of all-congratulations!! You're doing such wonderfull job! And I love your work ❤️ I have 2 promts if you don't mind. Just pick the one you like better and feel more comfy to write (boths are fluff couse im sucker for fluff)

1. Leopold Mountbatten “If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realise how much I’ve fallen for you.” + countryside/fairytale?

2. Wolverine with simply comforting him after really nasty nightmare when he's calling his...mama in his dreams to comfort him? (Idk i always wanna hug this poor baby)

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ love youuu

Chance || Leopold Mountbatten x Reader (Fairytale AU)

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, holy shit, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” + Fairytale AU

wc: 1.9k (OOPS)

a/n: Hello!! I love both of these prompts so much I'm gonna write both! This is prompt one! I also got carried away and it turned more into a oneshot oops!

As a child you dreamed of being a princess. Looking up at the big castle from your small bedroom in the attic. Your head was full of silly things. Dreaming that one day you'd be there in a pretty dress with a handsome prince. Growing up you the day dreams would follow you. People found you strange, always catching you humming and singing. You were far too kind, too generous.

Eventually reality had caught up with you. You were a peasant and the cruel children of the nobles made sure you knew it. They treated you like dirt. Like you were nothing, not even worth a second glance. Your dreams were slowly crushed. It was a harsh truth to swallow but then your mother died and you were left to take over the seamstress business as only a 16 year old.

Soon the only remnants of your childhood hopes only existed when you dreamed. They were silly anyways, you told yourself that as you went to work day in and day out. Thankfully work was flourishing.

The announcement of ball in the palace spread like fire. This prince was to be there and he was meant to be married soon. The ball was clearly a chance to meet the prince and impress him. The excitement was clear. Though they treated you poorly even the noblest of people couldn't deny that you were the best seamstress in all of the kingdom.

Orders upon orders flooded your small shop. Beautiful ballgowns that you could never afford in your wildest dreams. You couldn't help but feel the expensive fabric as you worked. Sometimes your mind would drift back to your old fantasies but you snapped yourself out of them. With only weeks away before you were panicking thinking of all the work you had to do.

When the bell of your shop rang one day you were ready to decline whoever had entered. Except when you looked up you were met with a very handsome man. He had a massive tear in his expensive looking coat and a nasty bruise under his eye.

"Sir! Are you alright?" You rushed to his aid. A sweet but pained smile on his face.

"My apologies, My name is Leo." He bowed his head and put his hand to his chest.

"I do not wish to inconvenience you but I am afraid I had no where else to go."

Leopold didn't meant to cause you any trouble. In fact he meant to lay as low as he could. The castle was boring him to death and the pressure of the royal ball was becoming too much for him. He just needed some fresh air. So he snuck out and spent the day in the town. Though he was to be king he was sheltered all his life and he made the mistake of wandering into the wrong part of town.

His clothes made him stick out amongst the crowds. When he saw two men threatening a young shopkeeper he jumped into action. He's skilled with a sword but with his fists he is not as trained. Leaving him with a bruise he wouldn't know how to explain to his father.

Still they left the shopkeeper alone but now he didn't know what to do. Stumbling into your shop by chance. You were, gorgeous. He watched you as you fixed his jacket and took care of his eye. Your hands were gentle and your smile was so sweet. But most shocking was that you had no clue who he was. No special treatment or fake words. He longed for this.

"Please, let me pay you for your services." He offers, though he has no money on him now he will pay you back.

"Nonsense, I'm happy to help." He takes your hand and kisses your knuckles.

"Thank you darling, I promise I will repay your kindness." The bell tower chimes and he knows he's running out of time. He must return home.

"Goodbye." He hurries out of your shop and you watch him go. A small frown on your face as you hope to see him again one day.

To your shock he returned the very next day. With more money than necessary in a fancy pouch. You refused to take any of it. Despite his protests he eventually relented. Instead he asked to help. Leopold wasn't the best with sewing but he would watch his mother do so all the time. The orders were looming over your head and you did need the help.

You grew closer, learning things about Leo as you worked. He was kind, a true gentleman and he loved to draw. While you worked you told him about your life. Smiling through the stories of your mother, through the childhood hardships. When Leo would prick his fingers you would always patch him back up.

The weeks flew by until it was the day before the ball. As you handed our your orders you couldn’t help but be overcome with sadness. Not for the ball but for the worry that Leo would stop coming once your orders were finished. The door chimes and you perk up as you see Leo.

“Hello, I’m afraid I have nothing left to work on.” You tell him sadly.

“That is alright. I did not come for the work.” There's a hint of nervousness in his eyes as he sits on a stool.

“Are you going to the ball?” He asks and you laugh sadly.

“No, The ball is not a place for someone like me.” Leo’s eyes sadden and he moves closer to you.

His hand cupping your face gently. His piercing hazel eyes are enchanting. Like a spell you never want to wake up from. You were falling in love with him.

"You could accompany me." He offers. Biting his lip as he prays you say yes.

This is what he wants, not someone who only wants him for his title or because he's the prince. He wants something real, something meaningful and that's what he has with you. At least he prays you feel the same way.

“Leo I-“

“My prince! What on earth are you doing here?” A royal guard barges through the doors and you take a step back. Eyes wide in shock as you process what you’ve just heard.

“Prince?” Leopold looks guilty as he tries to stammer out an explanation. They must have followed him. He hadn't been subtle with his adventures and it looks like they finally found him.

“Darling I apologize I-“ The guard grabs him by the shoulder, forcing him out of the shop despite Leo’s protests. He's calling your name, trying to fight the guards but to no avail.

You’re stunned to silence as you watch him leave. The prince? This whole time he was the prince. You closed your shop and spent the rest of the night upstairs. It’s not fair.

You thought you had something special. That you didn’t need the fairytale life when you had Leo but it turns out it was all a lie. Was this simply a game to him? Bored of the castle so he decided to toy with the life of a peasant? You were utterly heartbroken.

The ball passes and you choose to ignore any talk of. Leo doesn’t return and it’s for the best as you reopen your small shop. Business was slow and people went back to treating you like dirt.

It was a rude wakeup call from the last few weeks with Leo but those were in the past now. There’s a loud knock at your door and you choose to ignore it. The shop is closed today.

Still the knocking persists and you become fed up. Such rude behavior! You walk downstairs only to find Leo at the door. You open it and usher him inside before anyone else can see him.

“What are you doing here?” You ask harshly. He seems taken back for a moment.

“I came to see you.”

“Well what can I do for you my prince.” Your voice is void of any emotion as you address him. Even looking at him is painful now and as upset with him as you are he is still your soon to be king.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that please.” He hates it. He is your Leo.

“I am so deeply sorry for not telling you my true identity but I was afraid. You saw me as someone normal and I wanted more.” He tries to explain.

“So what? Was I just a plaything to you? A mirage of normalcy that you were going to drop the second you got bored?” You ask with tears in your eyes, anger flooding your senses.

“No! Never. Please you have to understand it started as an escape but the more I time I spent with you the more I longed to be by your side. You're what I want darling.”

You are the moon and the stars that light his path, the breath of fresh air. Leopold met you by chance but now that he knows you he cannot let you pass him by.

“Do you even know what you’re saying? You are the crowned prince. You will be King. I am nothing compared to your status, your position and to tease me with such a life is cruel!" Leopold can feel his heart breaking at the sight of your tears.

"My love," He cups your face and wipes away the tears.

"Please, do not cry." He presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You close your eyes as you try and commit this moment to memory. What its like to be held by him, to have his lips on yours.

“If only you could see yourself the way I see you, because, you’d realize how much I’ve fallen for you.” He confesses. Your heart leaps, his eyes shine with sincerity as he ghosts his lips over yours again. Silently begging for another kiss.

"Leo..." You want him, you want to give in but there's so much in your path.

"Don't think about it, just focus on me. I love you. Status means nothing to me when all I want is your love. So please, make me the happiest man in the kingdom." He lets go of your face and kneels down. Revealing a box with the prettiest ring you had ever seen. He was serious about this. He wants no one else by his side for the rest of his life.

"Oh Leo, Yes yes yes!" You grab his face and smash your lips to his, Leo groans as the kiss deepens. You're desperate and apart of you is afraid to open your eyes, wondering if he'd disappear when you do. He wraps his arms around you and dips you down. Lips moving in sync as you get lost in each other.

"I love you, I love you, I love you." He whispers as he peppers kisses along your jaw. He's your prince, your childhood dream coming to take you away. He slips the ring onto your finger and you bask in its beauty.

"I love you too Leo." He grins so wide it makes you forget all your worries.

His eyes so full of love and hope that you decide you'd follow him anywhere. Hand in hand he whisks you away, promising to love you forever and you believe him. Your dreams were coming true and you couldn't be happier it's with him.

Your prince, your hope, your love.

[guiltycorp]

Even though I loved the writing of LoL Jayvik I really appreciate that Arcane is going for a different approach so far, makes things feel less predictable! Instead of ideological differences driving the divide between them it is more so that they are just... out of sync so far?? I mean, during last season Viktor even before his diagnosis was eagerly meddling with the Hexcore with little regard to safety, then straight up went for the illicit and damaging drug to facilitate the transformation process, then when he ran out of that drug he proceeded to try using Hexcore without it (when he already TESTED that on plants and should have known it would backfire) which killed Sky... At which point he went oh shit, ok, I should stop meddling with this thing and just die peacefully maybe. It's not very clear how much of that he told Jayce aside from making him promise to destroy the Hexcore, but Jayce's surprised reaction in s2 when hearing about Sky makes me think it wasn't much at all...? So Jayce doesn't feel as much of an asshole for, once again, going against Viktor's explicit wishes. He pretty much never has the full picture before being forced to make a decision! Idk it makes him very sympathetic to me ngl, just feeling more and more guilt but continuing to fuck up due to lack of knowledge and experience, is that not relatable? And aside from being entirely unprepared for Viktor's death even after s1 I think it's like Jinx says in this Act too, it was something he could fix for once... Perhaps this is why he agrees to the use of Hextech weapons, too, feeling like it's the only thing he can do to 'help' the people he cares about and protect himself too (I guess killing just 1 defenseless child wasn't enough of a learning moment for him lmao). Despite again, this going very much against Viktor's wishes (and Mel's!! we didn't get her with Jayce after this but I imagine she's not very happy with him either... Viktor&Mel team up when). This time Jayce is the one just going for it and hoping for the best despite knowing very little of how it works. I also love how a lot of us in the fandom and also Singed in the series assumed Jayce would be appalled by Viktor's experiments but instead... he immediately goes even further :D And when Viktor wakes up and goes bye Jayce is like ?? but then by the end of the next episode he starts to realise that ohh alright so maybe yeah they should have stopped... Who'd have thunk. I'm not super up to date with League lore but is it really that difficult to find a sane mage for consultation purposes? ...Also I really doubt that hitting that thing (wild rune?) with his hextech-powered hammer was a good move lmao and yet even in this it seems similar to what Viktor is currently doing. Both continue to use the arcane to try and fix things, Jayce through violence and Viktor through transmutation, but it kind of seems like the same kind of mistake. (they are just pretty bad scientists and always have been and i love that for them lmao)

[eddiemunchem]

Hiiii i love your work and your writing it’s so wonderful! i was wondering if i could put in a request of nerd!reader who worries too much about her test grades but eddie wants her to take a break from her overwhelming studying and when she refuses he decides to pleasure her whenever she gets a question right and it ends with filthy smut!! 😫

📄 study motivation | eddie cares about your grades just as much you do… that’s why he wants to do a little something to help you remember the right answers. honest.

⚠️ 2.8k words, fem!reader, nerd!reader, established relationship, cunnilingus/pussy eating, teasing, sloppy makeouts, p in v sex, unprotected sex, missionary position, porn with feelings!!, soft!dom!eddie (what?), service!bf!eddie, language, dirty talk, pet names, breeding kink, creampie, bigdick!eddie, soft+smitten!eddie, descriptions of fluids (almost always), praise, use of ‘good girl’, 18+ mdni!

💋i’m so so sorry for the tardiness of this love! life has just been.. life. but i hope this makes up for it!! thank you so so much for requesting and for your endless patience <333 i luv u so much!!!

“the process of cell separation is known as—?”

“cell isolation,” you answered without missing a beat. “though it’s also referred to as cell sorting.”

eddie pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes down at the card. laid out casually across your bed, clutching your cutesy little flashcards, eddie looked hilariously out of his element — he always did look a little that way in your room, though.

“how many of these did you make?” eddie asked incredulously, “i’m pretty sure i read this question before.”

you rolled your eyes and smiled at him fondly. “no, you’re thinking of cellular respiration. that was the question you read earlier.”

eddie waved his hand flippantly with a muttered, “whatever. same thing.”

“it’s most definitely not,” you mumbled as you checked off the question under the ‘correct’ column in your notebook. you lightly tapped your pen against the paper as you waited for eddie to read the next card.

and you waited. and waited.

“eddie?” you pressed without looking up from your notebook. more silence. with a soft sigh you glanced up to meet his gaze.

his expression was soft, eyes rounded and lips pulled into a small smile. he looked… fond. but there was something else etched into the lines of his face, something that was uncomfortably close to worry.

your heart skipped a beat and you cleared your throat.

“could you read the next question, please?”

rather than heeding your plea, eddie set the stack of flashcards on your blanket and reached out to grip your bare knee in his large hand.

“you’ve been studying nonstop for the past three days. take a break, yeah?” eddie suggested softly, giving your knee a gentle squeeze. your breath hitched in your throat and your cheeks warmed subtly, body reacting immediately to his affection, but you shook your head anyway.

“i can’t, eddie. i’ve really gotta ace this test.”

eddie blew out a short breath and shook his head, soft curls bouncing atop his shoulders. “i don’t even know how you can do this so much.”

“you mean study?” you asked with a small, amused scoff. eddie thinned his lips and nodded slowly, brown eyes wide and tossed to the side.

“if it were me i’d have to take breaks like, every five minutes.”

you arched a brow at him. “you literally spent twelve hours straight drafting out a campaign last week.” you reminded him, to which he waved you off.

“yeah, but that’s not boring. studying is.”

you held his gaze for a few moments before sighing softly. “it’s boring but it’s necessary.”

eddie fell silent and his brows furrowed slightly. he seemed to ponder something for a moment, then his eyes sparked and his lips pulled into a smile — one that bordered too much on a smirk for your comfort.

“maybe it doesn’t have to be. boring, i mean.”

eddie always had a way of coaxing you into agreeing to his suggestions, even if you felt hesitant about them at first.

and that’s how you ended up here, shorts and panties discarded, legs spread and eddie’s curly head buried between them, soft lips peppering kisses along your inner thigh.

“h-how is this going to work again?” you stuttered out, head already growing fuzzy even though he hadn’t even touched you that much. that was just the eddie munson effect, you supposed.

“i’ll read one of your cards, and you’ll answer the question. if you get it right, you get a reward.” eddie explained, voice lowered and deep. his eyes were endless pools of ebony as he stared up at you through the curtain of your thighs, kickstarting your heart and practically shoving it into your throat.

you nodded shakily and barely suppressed the urge to wiggle your hips, anticipation already sparking beneath your skin.

“first question,” eddie murmured, hot breath fanning over your clit. “when the chromosomes line up in mitosis this is known as which phase?”

the answer flew to the tip of your tongue easily, “metaphase.”

eddie smiled up at you and drew soft circles on your thighs with his thumbs. “good girl.” he whispered warmly.

your breath caught in your throat when eddie leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around your clit, tongue darting out to flick at it softly. pleasure zipped up your spine and you couldn’t stop the soft “fuck,” that dropped from your lips.

eddie laved his tongue against your clit a few more times before he pulled back and placed a soft kiss against it.

“next question,” he cooed, giving your clit one final kitten lick before reading off the words on the card. “hardening of the arteries is known as…?”

this time, the answer took a few seconds to pull itself to your brain. your clit was still buzzing from the weight of eddie’s tongue, a distraction that was quickly becoming a problem.

“a-atheriosclerosis.” you pushed out, pussy already missing the heat of eddie’s mouth, fog thickening subtly in your head.

“so smart, baby.” eddie gushed, voice warm and sincere, the genuine compliment boiling your skin even more than the fact that he was eating you out in the middle of your bed.

a small whimper flew past your lips when eddie flattened his tongue over your clit and pushed, rocking his face against your cunt and dipping his tongue down between your folds before swiping it back up.

this time, he stayed down for much longer, leaving you gasping and whimpering as he worked his tongue against you magically.

circling your clit with his tongue, swiping it side to side, dipping it between your folds and pushing the tip just inside your walls, —

“next question.” eddie growled as he suddenly pulled away from your cunt, voice thick with his own fair share of arousal, and you barely bit down the objection that bubbled in your throat.

you were the one who said you needed to study, after all.

“the functional unit of the kidney is known as?”

fuck, what was it? you knew it. of course you knew it. you’d studied it over and over, but eddie was breathing against your clit, his warm shoulders spreading your thighs out, and his fingers gripped your flesh so hard and you couldn’t fucking think.

“time’s tickin’, angel.” eddie whispered, lips moving against your cunt as he spoke. a shiver tore down your spine and pulled a whimper from your throat.

“fuck, it’s… it’s the n-nephron! please, eddie.”

eddie groaned into your heat and fuck, his tongue was finally on you again, licking and laving against your clit with rapid flicks. your fingers flew to his dark curls and you pulled, shoving his face deeper between your legs.

“fuck, eddie — so good, please —!”

eddie moaned against your clit, the new sensation sparking against your skin and lighting your nerves on fire. you didn’t want him to stop — you wanted him to devour you and make you cum on his tongue.

your hips moved of their own accord, and eddie let them — let you grind your pussy against his face, soak it with your juices, and all the while he panted and groaned into you, fingernails digging crescents into your skin.

“it’s so good,” you whined, using his tongue, swiping your clit up and down, faster — it was building in your gut, his thick, warm tongue working you up in the most delicious way, —

but then it was gone, and the groan that left your throat was nothing but desperate and angry; you snapped your eyes down to him and glared, chest sparking with irritation at the smirk on his lips.

“want me to read the next question?” eddie teased, pink tongue slipping out to swipe the glistening slick from his plump bottom lip. your slick. your gut warmed and you snapped.

“i want you to make me cum.”

eddie’s brows met his hairline and his smirk widened; he was getting far to much entertainment from this, and that shouldn’t be as sexy as it was.

“are you sure?” eddie whispered lowly, voice sultry and promising — and you know what? fuck studying. your hot, loving, more than likely riled-up boyfriend was right between your legs.

“fuck, yes.” you panted out, and eddie’s eyes darkened, forcing you into a full body shiver. eddie released his grip on your thighs and slithered up your body until your thighs caged his waist.

“don’t worry, angel.” eddie whispered, eyes focused on your flushed face. “‘m gonna make you cum so hard you see stars.”

you didn’t get a chance to respond before his lips were crashing into yours, coaxing them into a wet, sloppy dance immediately. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it stirred the heat in your gut even more.

eddie rolled his body against yours, clothed bulge grinding against your wet, swollen cunt and pulling a wanton moan from your mouth. fuck, he was so hard.

“gonna fuck you so good,” eddie growled hotly into your mouth, tongue licking in and stealing your breath. “gonna fuck my pretty girl stupid.”

“please.” you moaned out without thought, hips rolling up to grind into his cock, pussy throbbing at the stretch it promised.

“fuck, you don’t have to ask. it’s yours, always.” eddie rumbled, hand pushing between your bodies to expertly unlatch his belt. your heart skipped a beat at the metallic clink, body buzzing like a bee and gut twisting.

eddie fastened his lips to yours as he shimmied his jeans down just enough to expose his underwear, the soft fabric a pleasant change from the rough texture of his pants. eddie released a groan of relief into your mouth as he pulled his boxers down and sprung his cock free.

“fuck, baby, i’m so hard for you.” eddie said, voice bordering on a whine, sliding his tip up and down your soaked folds. he let out a chuckle at the feeling.

“guess the feeling is mutual, yeah?”

you groaned and pushed your hips against him, coaxing him into action. “just fuck me, eddie.”

“always, sweet girl.” eddie murmured as he pressed his flared cockhead past your folds, both of you releasing twin moans of pleasure.

“always so tight and wet f’me, angel.” eddie panted out as he began to thrust shallowly, each one sinking his cock in just a bit further. the stretch was already almost too much and he wasn’t even half way in.

it was so fucking amazing.

you locked your ankles around his waist and tapped him with your heels. you just wanted him to fuck you already.

“faster, eddie.” you breathed out, staring up at him with lidded eyes. eddie drew in a shuddery breath and nodded before locking his lips with yours.

the kiss was messy — just tongues, lips and teeth everywhere, both of you desperately tasting one another; eddie’s hips picked up pace and his hands found your waist and held it up, allowing his cock to beat into your cervix with every thrust.

“fuck,” you mumbled into his mouth, toes curling at the pleasure resonating through your entire lower half. “so good, keep going like that.”

“i know, angel. i know how you like it.” eddie groaned in return, tongue thrusting into your mouth and gliding over your own. his cock speared through your walls and slid against every single sweet spot hidden within, cockhead crushing into your cervix and knocking your breath out.

slaps, slick squelches, groans and moans painted the atmosphere of your room, the study cards you’d worked so hard on bouncing forgotten on the blanket as eddie fucked himself into you almost savagely.

“feelin’ good, beautiful?” eddie murmured into your lip lock, rocking his hips into you so fast you were seeing stars. “is my cock makin’ you feel good?”

“yes,” you whined, hands flying up to grip his curls, thighs clenching around his waist. “so good, eddie.”

eddie groaned low in his throat and gripped one of your thighs, pushing it up until your knee nearly met your chest. it spread your legs open further and gave him ample access to absolutely spear himself inside you, all the way to the hilt, with every quick thrust.

“so sloppy,” eddie growled heatedly. “she’s so fuckin’ sloppy. listen to ‘er cryin’ f’me.”

part of you wished you could block out the sounds that squelched from between your legs. they were absolutely filthy and lewd, a vocalization of how good he was fucking you.

your brain felt like it was melting, as mushy and slick as your body by now. completely fucked up by eddie — his scent, his warmth, his cock, him.

“eddie,” you whined, unsure of what you were pleading for; your gut felt so tight, breath knocked from your lungs with every rabid thrust into your body, legs shaking from the force behind eddie’s movements.

“i’ve got you, angel.” eddie cooed, lips abandoning yours to graze along your jaw. “just let me take care of you, yeah?”

eddie continued to fuck into you like an animal, hips slapping into yours and fucking his cock deep into your drooling pussy, lips finding purchase along your neck and peppering it with kisses and nips.

that familiar heat was building in your gut — you were so close, you just needed a little bit more.

“w-wanna cum,” you droned, pulling weakly at eddie’s hair. “eddie, c-cum… please.”

“of course, baby,” eddie whispered against your skin, voice warm and thick. “i’ll make you cum, sweetheart.”

eddie’s hand left your hip and pushed between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with pinpoint accuracy and rolling it between them. you moaned lewdly and bucked your hips up, pushing his cock even deeper into your cunt.

eddie hissed and nipped rather harshly at your neck, startling a gasp from your lips. eddie laved his tongue over the tender skin in what you assumed to be an apology.

“close,” you whined; your body felt completely ravaged, walls brutalized by eddie’s thick cock and clit rubbed ragged by his fingers — any second now you’d pop —

“i feel it, baby.” eddie snarled, lips mouthing wetly over your skin. “feel your pussy fuckin’ flutterin’. don’t hold back, angel. cum on my cock.”

your whines and moans hit a fever pitch as your hips bucked into eddie’s thrusts desperately, pushing his cockhead against your cervix and bringing stars to your eyes.

“yes, fuck, c’mon, sweet girl. fuckin’ give it to me.” eddie groaned, hips slamming into your body and dick bruising your pussy — he was going so fast, fat cock slipping and sliding against that spot, fuck, his fingers were rubbing so fast too —

your back arched from the bed and your lips fell open as your orgasm crashed through your body. your thighs locked up and your clit throbbed in time with the waves of pleasure cascading through you, pussy gushing slick around eddie’s cock.

“good girl, good fuckin’ girl.” eddie cooed as his thrusts turned sloppy and desperate, cock kicking up against your walls and twitching. “gon’a fill you up now, baby girl.”

your body felt too fucked out to even move, as if it was nothing but liquid within eddie’s hands as he ravaged it with harsh, shallow thrusts. his moans and groans were becoming more guttural, spitting praises and vulgarities into your neck — he was so close, chasing his relief using the sweet velvet of your walls.

“fuckin’ shit — ugh, mmm, baby — get ready, okay? it’s comin’, fuck—!”

eddie thrusted in deep once, then twice, before he stilled and his cock jumped inside your cunt — you could feel his hot seed splatter inside you, painting your insides white and pulling a shiver from your body.

it always felt so good when he busted inside you, and even better when he fucked it deep.

“fuck,” eddie groaned, hips rocking slowly as he rode out the rest of his orgasm, lips quivering against your skin. “feels so good to fill’ya up, angel.”

your eyes fluttered closed as exhaustion slammed into you with harsh force — maybe all those all-nighters were finally catching up to you now that your body had been fucked into relaxation. black was slowly creeping into the corners of your vision.

“tired, sweet girl?” eddie murmured into your ear, humming when you nodded in assent. eddie pressed a sweet, loving kiss to your neck, hands soothing down your sides as he slowly pulled his softening cock from your walls.

“me too,” eddie grunted as he fell beside you on the bed. he snaked his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side, large hand guiding your face to his collarbone. “let’s take a nap, yeah?”

for once, you didn’t fight with him. you’d been studying nonstop for three days. you deserved a break.

and eddie was so warm, and he smelled so nice, and his hand was sliding up and down your arm so soothingly — you couldn’t help that you drifted off within seconds, blissfully unaware of the way eddie adored you as you did so.

[pratically-imperfect]

Caitlyn is so messy and complex of a character, and while her original goals were paved in good intentions, she's ultimately turned her back on it unwittingly. The grief, trauma, stress, and the weight of her name and new posts, it's all adding up. All while everyone around her on the topside slowly turns their backs to her previous convictions. So, in her anger - her agonizing RAGE - she turned on the last person who could keep her accountable, who held her beliefs. Because not only did Vi endorse taking the shot, make it clear, but she ended up preventing her from it. And Caitlyn...I 100% believe SHE believed she wouldn't have missed. But I also believe that, had she taken it, she would have. She lost what she's shooting for. It would be naive to think that, in a chaotic situation such as that, that she could thread the needle...and at what cost? If they weren't killed, they would have been deeply traumatized. Continuing a cycle.

All while at home, surrounded by people who bow to her, she's constantly having her original morals tested and questioned. And now she's got Ambessa in her ear, weaponizing all the vulnerabilities she's accumulated from: Being made to confront her privilege and prejudice, to being kidnapped, made a hostage, watched Jinx explode the tower and killed her mom, a terrorist attack at a MEMORIAL from the people she'd been wanting to help (turning this from Jinx being the solo scapegoat of her past prejudice, to being an act of the people of Zaun as well), and so many little things that just add up.

She lashes out, at the height of her distress - not necessarily in malice as that implies a true intent, this felt feral to me (and that FLASH of regret at the end of that stare, before she turns...) - because frankly she isn't thinking anymore. She isn't rational, and her actions are reactional. Her emotions are raw, overwhelming, and she feels like she's alone, and also like she needs to protect herself.

This of course doesn't excuse her behaviour. She said regrettably discriminatory things about the people of Zaun in her quest for blame and revenge. Of course she chose to rise to Ambessa's 'request.' And she rejected Vi both verbally and physically after making some very harmful, manipulative sounding statements to her. Caitlyn IS in the wrong. However what this does is explain things. Humans are complex and the world is PAVED in shades of grey. Our personalities change over time, we act differently with different people. The nicest people can still do bad things, just because their perspective makes it seem good. The evilest of people can, much in the same way, do good things but have bad ulterior motives.

There is so much going on than just this, or just that. There is more to this conversation than being apologetic only to Vi OR Caitlyn. They're both victims, they've both done bad, and they have both made mistakes, and neither of them are wholly GOOD or BAD.

We can laugh and say we support woman's wrongs, and continue to love and support our favourite girls, but it's important to look at the wider context, and that there's more to it all.

I think it's this messy complexity that makes us love them, and it's also what will make the payoff so much more sweet when the time comes...if it comes. I can hope.

[goblin-jr]

And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you.

Synopsis: Y/N has loved JJ for as long as she can remember. Now, as JJ falls for someone new, Y/N’s heart is pulled in a million different directions. 

Pairing: JJ x Reader x Rafe

masterlist

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The sun was setting, casting warm amber light across the Outer Banks, painting the world in hues Y/N had come to know by heart. She’d watched these sunsets with JJ more times than she could count, usually from the old dock or one of their secret hideaways. This place, the marshes and beaches, had been their world since they were six years old. They’d grown up as each other’s shadow—two kids with wayward parents and a shared sense of adventure.

JJ had always been the loud one, fearless in the way he took on the world, while Y/N found herself quietly filling the spaces beside him, standing steady when life went off course. But somewhere along the line, her feelings had slipped past friendship. Now, at sixteen, Y/N’s heart raced just seeing JJ flash that mischievous grin she’d memorized years ago.

She wasn’t sure when it had happened—maybe during the late-night talks under starlit skies or after he’d shown up at her house that one terrible night when her parents' shouts rattled the windows. He was the only one who could chase away the dark. She wanted to tell him, but there was always something in the way. Mostly, lately, it was Kie.

Kie, with her bright laugh and easy charm. Y/N loved her, she really did, but there were moments when she wished she could be just a bit more like her: braver, more outgoing, effortless. JJ followed Kie with a starry-eyed devotion that broke Y/N’s heart, but she could never resent Kie for it. Besides, wasn’t it enough just to have JJ as a friend? To be by his side, even if she couldn’t hold his hand the way she wanted to?

This particular day at the country club was supposed to be different.

Y/N clocked in and picked up a tray, weaving her way around tables of tourists and regulars, her smile polite but practiced. Working alongside JJ made the shifts easier, though today her nerves twisted every time she thought about what she wanted to say. She’d decided that today was the day she’d finally tell him.

But as she scanned the room, she caught sight of JJ across the dining area, trailing Kie with that familiar, hopeful look on his face. Y/N’s heart sank, but she tried to shake it off. So what if JJ had a crush on Kie? It didn’t change what she had to say. It would just… complicate things.

She was so lost in thought that she barely noticed Rafe Cameron standing by his family’s usual table until he cleared his throat.

“Y/N, right?” he said, giving her a nod that was polite but impersonal, the sort of acknowledgment he probably reserved for the people who worked at his family’s club. “Is there someone I can talk to about the dinner reservations? There’s been some confusion.”

“Oh—yeah, sure,” she stammered, mentally kicking herself for spacing out. “I can take care of it.”

“Great,” he said, offering her a polite, reserved smile. “Appreciate it.”

He was cordial enough, but Y/N knew his reputation. He was practically crowned king of the Kooks, and though he hadn’t done anything wrong, she felt that familiar, instinctual distrust rise up. She turned and made her way to the reservation counter, Rafe already forgotten as her eyes found JJ again.

She could see him chatting with Kie across the terrace, his eyes following her with a soft look Y/N knew too well. JJ looked at Kie like she was a sunrise, something bright and untouchable. Kie was laughing, carefree as always, and Y/N had to look away. She couldn’t help but wish she could be like that—just a little more confident, a little more magnetic.

She took a deep breath. She’d tell JJ anyway. She’d waited too long already, right? They were best friends; he’d understand, even if he didn’t feel the same way.

But when her shift finally ended, she found JJ out by the clubhouse steps, pacing back and forth with that jittery energy he got whenever he was excited. Before she could say a word, he looked up, grinning.

“Hey! Guess what?” he said, his face lit up like he was about to burst. “Kie just invited me out on the boat tomorrow. It’s like, not a date or anything, but… y’know, she wants me there.”

The words she’d been holding in all day lodged in her throat. She forced a smile, trying to swallow the ache that suddenly felt so heavy. “That’s… that’s great, JJ. I know you’ve been hoping she’d notice you.”

“Right? I mean, it’s probably nothing, but it’s a start, you know?” He ran a hand through his hair, practically bouncing with anticipation. “You should come too. She’d love it if you came. We’ll all hang out like old times.”

“Yeah… maybe,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

JJ didn’t seem to notice the way her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, and she was grateful for it. She didn’t want him to see the hurt she was holding back. All she wanted was to be close to him, and if that meant staying quiet, being his best friend even when her heart was breaking, then that was what she’d do.

“See you later, then?” JJ asked, giving her a quick hug before jogging off, probably already daydreaming about tomorrow.

Y/N stood there, watching him disappear, feeling her resolve crumble. She’d come so close, but maybe today just wasn’t the right time. There would be other days, right? Other moments when JJ wasn’t looking at someone else with that same hopeful gleam in his eyes.

She walked home slowly, the sunset painting everything in soft pastels, the familiar landscape feeling just a little emptier. She thought about JJ, the way his laugh sounded like home, the way he’d always been her anchor. Even if she could never tell him, she’d stay by his side.

Maybe tomorrow, or the day after that. She’d tell him someday. But for now, loving him quietly was enough. It had to be.

--

this is a short and sweet intro to what is (hopefully) a new series! Hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think!