#so I may have turned this into more of an event than I first anticipated lol

[ozzgin]

Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

[gourmand-cookie]

The One Who Hears Him

inspired by @odileeclipse's beautiful and yummy oneshot The One Who Sees You, a Shadow Milk Cookie POV of the events that happened and perhaps a little more

—What was better than stealing such an unlooked treasure from that pathetic thief?!

Apparently, one that walked right onto his stage to be his centerpiece.

tags: Shadow Milk Cookie/Reader, One-sided Pure Vanilla Cookie/Reader, Mentioned PureLily, Slow Burn-ish (In terms of Timeline), Character Study, Love, Loyalty, Bittersweet, Happy Ending, Angst, Shadow Milk Cookie Has Abandonment Issues, Shadow Milk Cookie Submits to the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known

If he could be honest for once in his second life, he didn't think you'd listen. Shadow Milk Cookie figured he'd have to put in the effort, make a real glamorous show to keep your attention, was looking forward to it even– What was better than stealing such an unlooked treasure from that pathetic thief?!

Apparently, one that walked right onto his stage to be his centerpiece.

"Come one, come all! Well, I suppose that's still one of you, to witness the comedy of The False Heroes!" You had scoffed, you had gazed at him then with a raised brow and exasperation but you stayed to listen to his fantastical, fanatical retelling.

And that was all that mattered, really.

You didn't participate at first, merely an audience who watched his antics with quiet eyes and a tired face, but oh were you enraptured, he just knew it.

(Look at me. Look at me.

I'm looking.)

"I can see you, darling." He crooned, bowing low, hand held out, eyes filled with mirth, dark amusement has his slitted pupils dilating with anticipation, "I said you'd be part of the show, didn't I?"

There's something funny about this, coaxing you to step into the backstage with him, out of the spotlight shining down on you, into the shadows to play with the puppets he's made just for this spectacle.

"But then I won't get to 'witness' it." You rebuke but you've already made a step forward, grasping onto his hand and he could feel your breath hitch with how solid it feels against your own dough.

"Oh but that's the best part, little star! You won't get to just witness it. We'll be spinning the narratives ourselves~"

He pulled you in before you could think, it was just so easy.

And yet he's never had more fun playing with you, it must be because the plan was going well, it definitely is!

(He's already fallen once.

What's one more?)

Your kingdom reminded him of a fortress, walls built tall and high, hidden away– So how did he end up here?

He knew why, this was what he had been striving for after all, months of late night talks, whispered ponderings and soon enough, secrets told were what lead to this.

He just didn't expect to find himself inside palace walls so soon, trailing after you as you quietly greet your subjects, just as loyal, just as patient as you, they'd been waiting for your return, never once wavering in doubt for your arrival.

He watched you, silent for once, taking it all in, you were a walking tragedy all on your own.

It's funny. It isn't.

"He's not going to greet you like this." A lie. He would, just not in the way you wanted, he would say your name with warmth, perhaps reach in for a hug, but his frame wouldn't soften in the way it would have, reserved for someone else that wasn't you.

"I know." Your replies grow more and more neutral, used to this song and dance the both of you have started moons ago.

Shadow Milk felt his mouth twitch, this was good, he could use this–

And yet.

"Hey, hey, won't you be the star of my show?" You paused, turning around to see his waiting hand.

He ignored the rush of warmth when you don't even hesitate anymore in taking it.

"Just for tonight?"

"Ah," He found himself laughing, a new plan stringing up his mind, "Don't stars always shine every night?"

He pulled you along, taking you with him, his hold firm and unwilling to let go. You may not wish to take what you want but that was fine, he could be selfish for the both of you.

(Plans never survived with contact from the enemy.

He knew this, of course. He just didn't think you were a threat.

Now, his heart starves for something to fill it once more.)

"Would you wait for me?" He asked it on a whim, there was something he wanted to see, check on that thief's kingdom if it had fallen to ruin—

"Of course." Your voice trembled but your words hold a truth that burned him into a wide eyed stupor.

(Oh.

Oh.)

He doesn't know how long the both of you stayed in that moment, a revelation, the climax, of what has become of the both of you.

"Oh, my little star." Shadow Milk breathed, crowding your glassy eyed face with a too wide grin, grasping your cheeks as he felt the truth crush him once more.

"Did you really think I won't come back? I might not!" A lie. The biggest he's ever told.

You listened and laughed wetly, leaning in to press your forehead against his, tethering him to this world, stronger than any crack in that damn seal ever could.

"And miss tonight's show?"

(He came back just before night fall.)

"Are you truly happy?" He paused at his other half's question, one he could never find himself to ask themselves, what good was the truth anyways? All it did was–

"I am." You didn't even hesitate.

Something settled in his chest, left him breathless, so heavy and warm, he might just think his body was truly real.

He giggled from where he was draped over you and he delighted in seeing you smile at the sound.

"Is that a smile I see? Ah, no no, don't look away from me, my little star. I saw that!"

(And if tonight was a fullblown musical– well, who didn't love a good song?

You certainly did.)

[slytherinshua]

꩜　EMOTIONS OVER LAUNDRY　( 최연준 )

genre hurt/comfort , parent au , husband!yeonjun x fem!reader   cw they have a newborn daughter , mention of struggling to conceive , yeonjun crying , small mention of postpartum/newborn anxiety , not proofread   wc 917   request 🥟 anon for yeonjun + folded laundry for the 3k event   note still in my txt era so bad and also yeonjun :( our healing i love him so much he would be such a good dad </3 i've been listening to love sailing by cha eunwoo the entire time while writing this and i am NOT okay it's 3 am and i may cry   net @kstrucknet @moadiarynet

You didn’t expect to come home to see your husband crying while folding laundry. At first, you thought something must be seriously wrong. Yeonjun was always fairly emotional, but you hadn’t seen him cry since you gave birth to your baby girl Yejin two weeks ago. He wasn’t one to cry over little things, and the tears only started falling when he was stressed or upset or overwhelmed with emotion. Seeing his red nose and puffy eyes sitting in the middle of the living room floor took you off guard. 

��Honey, what’s wrong?” You were holding your newborn in one arm and shrugging off your jacket with the other, eyes glancing over your baby’s face once again. 

The new mother anxiety was something you had somewhat anticipated and prepared for. But just how anxious and paranoid you were over your newborn child still surprised you. It was like if you took your eyes off of her for more than ten seconds, something horrible was bound to happen to her. Your mind was put at ease to find her still sleeping soundly in your arms. The walk around the newbourhood in her stroller had tired her out, and carrying her back inside did nothing to wake her.

Your husband looked up at you with fresh tears in his eyes and a pout on his lips, sniffing quietly. You walked over to where he was sitting, gently transferring Yejin to her newborn rocker where she could continue napping safely. Then, you turned to your husband and raised an eyebrow as if to reiterate your previous question without verbally stating it again. 

“It’s nothing, just…” Yeonjun trailed off with a sigh, a light pink baby onesie on one of his hands. The garment was so small compared to him. Even the small stacks of neatly folded clothes looked tiny, although it was nearly half your daughter’s wardrobe. 

“She’s so small,” Yeonjun whispered, another tear rolling down his cheek. Immediately, you understood exactly where all the emotions were coming from. It happened to you a few times as well when Yejin was particularly cute or you remembered just how long you and Yeonjun had tried for a child, all the struggle it took to get to this point. It was all worth it for her, your perfect little bundle of joy. Even looking at her brought a smile to your face. Even though it had been hard, for her, you would do it all again in a heartbeat. 

“And—and, I was folding her clothes, and they’re all just so small, just like her. And she’s so, so cute, and she’s really ours. It doesn’t feel real that she’s finally here. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up one day and realize this was all a dream, like we’re back a few years ago still trying for her,” Yeonjun breathed, words mumbled in his choked up voice. 

You shifted closer to him, brushing a hand up and down his back as he leant into your touch. With how often Yeonjun had comforted you and wiped your tears away during pregnancy, now it was your turn to do the same for him. 

You had taken it hard back then. Every negative test, every piece of false hope, every month that went by without progress; your husband was there to comfort you through it all. He stayed firm and strong when you weren’t able to. You knew he had been holding back his own feelings on it for you, not wanting to show how much it affected him too. You’d be blind to not see how much it was hurting him as well. He had always wanted a family just as much as you had, and you knew just how happy he was to have finally been able to start one. 

It was just an emotional journey. 

Yeonjun fully rested his head on your shoulder, warm tears dripping onto your shirt. You didn’t mind. You just continued to stroke his back, reaching out to hold one of his hands and giving it a reassuring squeeze. Yeonjun couldn’t stay strong forever. Although it had been two weeks since you came home from the hospital, it felt like today was the first time you truly got to relax and breathe. Caring for a newborn was nonstop, and you were both running on sleepless nights and parenting anxiety. You worked through it like you did anything, though. As long as you had each other, you were sure things would turn out okay. 

“I’m sorry,” Yeonjun whispered after minutes of silence. “I didn’t mean to get so emotional all of a sudden.” He pulled back from the hug and sent you a small smile, assuring you silently that he was okay, that those small moments of comfort were all he needed. He carefully folded the small onesie he was still holding and placed it on top of the stack of other similar ones. 

Leaning over the baby rocker, he smiled brightly at his daughter. Still sleeping soundly without a care in the world, wrapped up in a soft yellow onesie. Her hands were balled into little tiny fists, so small that they could barely wrap around Yeonjun’s thumb. 

He brushed a few fingers over Yejin’s head and soft wispy strands of hair. It was peaceful watching her sleep, and a feeling of reassurance washed over Yeonjun. He was her dad, and he loved her more than anything in the world. He’d sacrifice everything for her— his perfect little angel. 

txt taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @90steele,, @ddeonudepressions,, @cham3li,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @98-0603,, @weird-bookworm,, @candewlsy,, @blossominghunnie,, @amara-mars,, @wccycc,, @seunghancore,, @ujisworld,, @sobun1est,, @bananabubble,, @talkingsaxy,, @sxmmerberries,, @talking-saxy,, @nicholasluvbot,, @cupidslovearrows,, @50-husbands,, @hursheys,, @stannwjnss,, @gong-fourz,, @nonononranghaee,, @forever-atiny,, @stantxtforabetterlife,, @loserlvrss,, @lexeees,, @cupidslovearrows,, @hyukabean,, @nicholasluvbot,, @i03jae

[mrsfancyferrari]

Real Love

Summary: You and Carlos were just supposed to be a PR couple for less than a year but someone decided to catch feelings.

Song: Love Story - Indila

Part 2

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

MASTERLIST - F1

It all started as a simple PR arrangement between you, a well-known influencer, and Carlos Sainz, the Formula 1 driver. We were both told it would only last less than a year - just long enough to boost our public profiles and create some buzz. Little did we know, someone had other plans.

At first, it was easy enough. We attended events together, posted cute couple photos on social media, and played the part of the perfect pair. The chemistry between us felt natural, which made the whole charade convincing.

Your routine was simple enough.

You and Carlos would meet up at his house and he would drive you both to the paddock while sharing a small conversation about what happened in your jobs in the last weeks.

The roar of the engines and the excited chatter of the fans would fill the air around you.

As you reach the Ferrari garage, Carlos turns to you. "I've got some meetings with Charles to attend to, but you're free to explore or chat with the other drivers' partners if you'd like. I'll catch up with you in a bit, okay?"

You nod, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. "Sounds good. I'll be around if you need me." With a smile, you part ways, ready to take in the bustling atmosphere of the Ferrari garage.

Because of your ‘relationship’, you were able to make friends with your current bestie, Lily Muni.

You and your close friend Lily would often engage in candid discussions about your romantic entanglements, particularly your faux relationship with Carlos. Despite being the sole confidante privy to the fact that your connection with Carlos was entirely fabricated, Lily wholeheartedly embraced the role of your number one supporter and "shipper."

She would enthusiastically encourage you, even though she was fully aware that your purported love affair was merely a façade maintained for the benefit of others.

"So what's going on with you these days?" Lily asked curiously since you hadn't seen her in a few weeks. You knew that she wanted to know more about your relationship but it was still the same.

"Lily, I don't know what you're waiting for," You replied, taking a sip of your coffee. "We're going to be like this until the contract ends."

Lily looked at you with a knowing look, smiling at your denial, "Not until one of you decides to confess, I bet it's gonna be Carlos. I see where his eyes go when you're not looking."

You can feel your cheeks heat up at Lily's teasing words, and you quickly avert your gaze, trying to hide your embarrassment.

Blushing, you try to hide your embarrassment by taking another sip of your coffee, hoping to distract yourself.

Deep down, you couldn't deny the flutter of hope that Lily's words sparked within you, secretly wishing that her prediction would come true and Carlos would finally reveal his true feelings.

"Come on, Lily, you know it's all just for show," you say with a nervous laugh, hoping to dismiss any romantic notions. Deep down, however, you can't help but wonder if there might be some truth to her playful observations.

Lily chuckles mischievously, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Oh, I know, I know. But you can't blame me for hoping, can you? Sometimes, even the most make-believe romances have a way of turning real."

You nodded before thinking of her words, realizing that there were indeed moments when Carlos's gaze lingered a little longer, or when his touches felt a little more intentional. Maybe, just maybe, Lily's playful observations held more truth than you were willing to admit.

As you sat there with your coffee, a newfound sense of curiosity and anticipation began to take root within you, wondering if this faux relationship could possibly evolve into something genuine and heartfelt.

You would be lying if you said that you didn't have a crush on Carlos. His charm and the way he made you feel special were undeniable. It wasn't just the little moments or his playful gestures, it was the way your heart skipped a beat whenever he was near.

Every time he looked into your eyes, it felt like there was something more behind his gaze. And now, with Lily's playful observations, the possibility of those feelings being reciprocated started to flicker in your mind, making your heart race with anticipation.

But you knew that breaking the rules of the PR contract because of your feelings was not an option. You couldn't risk jeopardizing the professional relationship and the project you had been working on together.

Besides, you reminded yourself, sometimes it's better to keep a crush as a secret, unrequited admiration rather than risking the potential fallout that could come from crossing that line.

So, you decided to bury those feelings deep down, focusing on the task at hand and maintaining a professional demeanor, even if your heart still fluttered every time Carlos entered the room.

It was a bittersweet realization, but one that you knew was necessary for the sake of your career and the project's success.

After catching up with Lily, you had to head back to the Ferrari garage to see Carlos one more time before he goes to the first sprint of the race, your heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and trepidation.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to put on your best poker face, to hide the feelings that threatened to spill over.

This would be the last time you allowed yourself to indulge in this fantasy, the last time you let your heart flutter at the sight of him. From now on, it would be all business, all focus, and no room for what-ifs and maybes.

As you entered, you found Carlos focused on preparing for the race, his eyes fixed on the car before him. You couldn't help but admire his dedication and skill, a reminder of why you were drawn to him in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, you approached him, ready to wish him luck and carry on with your professional duties.

But as you stood there, your eyes locked with his, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more beneath the surface, something that Lily's playful observations had hinted at.

As he smiled at you and gestured for you to come over, a glimmer of hope ignited within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more between you two, despite the professional boundaries. But you quickly pushed those thoughts aside, reminding yourself of the risks involved and the importance of staying focused on the task at hand.

With a smile, you returned his gesture and walked over, ready to offer your well wishes for the race.

As soon as you got close enough, his hand sneaked across your waist, sending a shiver down your spine. Your heart raced as he pulled you closer, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss.

The world seemed to stand still for a moment as the warmth of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss enveloped you. It was a moment of pure bliss, a confirmation that there was indeed something more between you two.

But as quickly as it happened, reality came crashing back.

You pulled away, your heart pounding with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

That was normal for you two. It doesn't mean anything.

"Good luck with your race," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you glanced from his lips to his eyes and saw that he did the same thing, a spark of connection flickered between you, leaving you wondering if there was more to this moment than either of you were willing to admit.

“Mi amor, I will definitely win with you being my good luck charm,” He said, smirking at the affect his words still had on you.

Reluctantly, you watched as Carlos tore his gaze away from you and focused on the final preparations of his car. With a heavy heart, you knew that this fleeting moment of connection would have to be set aside for now.

He had a race to win, and you had your own professional duties to attend to. As he climbed into the driver's seat and drove off to the starting line, you could only hope that the universe would bring you together again, when the time was right. . . .

Carlos ended up being first in practice 1, which was very surprising for everyone. His skill and determination were evident as he flawlessly maneuvered the twists and turns of the track, leaving his competitors in the dust.

The cheers and applause from the crowd filled the air, but amidst the excitement, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and admiration for Carlos. . . .

╔═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╗

╚═ * . · : · . ✧ ✦ ✧ . · : · . * ═╝

As you sat on Carlos's bed, waiting for him to finish dressing up. You couldn't help but feel a mix of nervousness and anticipation. Carlos and you had to go to an event together so you were now sitting on his bed, all dolled up.

The dress you were given to wear to the event was a stunning crimson masterpiece. Its vibrant hue perfectly represented the fiery spirit of Ferrari, mirroring Carlos's passion and determination on the racetrack.

The fabric gracefully hugged your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The bodice was beautifully adorned with intricate lace detailing, adding a touch of elegance to the ensemble. The dress flowed effortlessly down to the floor, creating a mesmerizing silhouette as you walked.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you couldn't help but feel a sense of empowerment and confidence.

You glanced at the clock, realizing that time was running out. You hoped that Carlos would hurry and join you soon.

As you read the Twitter comments questioning the authenticity of your relationship with Carlos, a wave of insecurity washed over you.

Despite knowing the truth of your connection, the doubts planted by strangers made you question your ability to convince fans of your 'love' for each other.

It was disheartening to realize that no matter how real your feelings were, they could still be perceived as fake by those who only saw glimpses of your lives through social media.

"Carlos?" you knocked on the bathroom door, wanting to know what he was still doing as they needed to go.

As you waited for a response, you couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling the same pressure and scrutiny from fans as you were, and if it was affecting his confidence as well.

"Yes cariño, you can come in," you heard his voice and you decided to open the door.

As you entered the bathroom, the sight of Carlos's bare back took your breath away. His muscles rippled under his smooth skin, and the towel that hung loosely around his waist only added to the allure.

His toned muscles glistened with droplets of water, and you couldn't help but appreciate the physical strength and athleticism that made him a champion on the racetrack.

You tried to maintain composure, but it was impossible to tear your eyes away from him. You were suddenly aware of the growing heat in the room, a reflection of the intense chemistry that existed between the two of you.

He turned to face you, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Like what you see?" he teased, causing your heart to race even faster.

You quickly averted your gaze, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "Sorry," you stammered, turning around to give him privacy. "I didn't realize you weren't dressed yet."

"It's okay cariño, since you're here, do you mind rubbing my back? It's hard to reach sometimes," He asked, gesturing to the bottle close to you on the shelf but still not turning around and applying some lotion onto his face.

"Sure Carlos," you replied.

You took a small amount of lotion in your hands and began to gently rub it onto Carlos's bare back, your fingers gliding smoothly over his muscles.

As you worked your way from his shoulders down to his lower back, you couldn't help but admire the strength and resilience they represented.

The physical contact eased the tension that had been building up in his back, making him stop what he was doing and sigh in relief.

"Am I that good?" you teased.

Chuckling, Carlos' eyes were still closed in bliss. "Well, cariño, you have magic hands. I've never felt so relaxed. Maybe I should consider hiring you as my personal masseur," he muttered.

Giggling softly, you replied, "Well, it seems like I have a hidden talent then. I can give you a massage after your races if you'd like."

"Yes please cariño," He pleaded.

You were taken aback by the intensity of his plea, and the way his voice resonated in your ears sent a shiver down your spine. Your cheeks flushed even deeper as you realized the effect you had on him, and a mix of excitement and nervousness washed over you.

"Y/N? Why did you stop?" Carlos asked, finally turning around to face you, his eyes locked with yours.

The electricity in the room seemed to intensify as you found yourself lost in his gaze, unable to find the words to explain the sudden halt in your actions.

"Carlos, we have an important event to go to. We can't waste time here," you reminded him and yourself. You just remembered the event that left your mind as soon as you stepped inside the bathroom.

Carlos pouted at your words, his disappointment evident. He knew that the event was important, but he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at leaving behind the intimate moment the two of you were sharing.

"We can't just spend a few minutes?" Carlos asked, trying his luck.

"Carlos, this event is about Ferrari," You started, going over to wash your hands. "You have to be there and be there early."

Carlos pouted at your words, remembering the event too. "I guess you're right," he said with a hint of disappointment. "But don't worry, I'll hold you to that promise of a massage later."

"You'll get them soon enough," You replied smiling, walking out of the bathroom, leaving Carlos to change into his suit. . . .

You two had made it to the event half an hour before it was going to start, and as you got out of Carlos' car, you were bombarded with the paparazzi.

Flashbulbs went off incessantly as reporters shouted questions and cameramen jostled for the best angle.

Carlos, being used to this, instinctively shielded you from the chaos, wrapping his arm around your waist and guiding you towards the entrance, where security personnel were waiting to escort you inside.

As soon as you two had gotten into the building, you were able to breathe, soaking in the momentary calmness before the storm of socializing began.

You glanced at Carlos, his hand still lingering on your waist, and you exchanged a knowing smile, silently reassuring each other that you were in this together.

Taking a deep breath, you prepared to gracefully navigate the room, greeting and mingling with the various groups of people in attendance.

Taking a moment to compose yourselves, you scanned the room and spotted familiar faces from various racing teams and sponsors.

Making your way over to each group, you exchanged warm greetings and engaged in small talk, ensuring that you maintained the necessary professional connections in the racing world for Carlos.

"Carlos! Y/N!" a voice called you from in the crowd, and you both turned around to see Benedetto Vigna, the CEO of Ferrari, making his way towards you with a warm smile.

It was a relief to see a familiar face amidst the sea of strangers, and you greeted him with enthusiasm, ready to discuss the future of the partnership between Carlos and Ferrari.

"It's so wonderful to see you both here tonight," he exclaimed, extending his hand in greeting.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Carlos replied, giving him a quick hug with a smile.

You looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Wasn't he the one who wanted to stay at home longer for a massage?

As you and Carlos were about to join Benedetto Vigna for a group picture with Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra, you couldn't help but notice Carlos shooting you a mischievous grin.

"Looks like someone changed their mind about staying at home for massages," you whispered playfully, causing Carlos to chuckle as the camera flashed, capturing the moment of camaraderie between the four of you.

You couldn't help but blush as Carlos leaned in closer, his grip on your waist tightening. "I'm still getting that massage, aren't I?" he whispered playfully into your ear, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

You chuckled softly at Carlos's words, feeling a surge of warmth as his grip tightened around your waist. "Of course," you whispered back, leaning into his embrace.

After the group photo, the two of you were approached by the paparazzi, who insisted on taking pictures of just the two of you.

You obliged, striking a pose with Carlos, your smiles radiating with genuine joy and affection. As the camera clicked, freezing the moment in time, you couldn't help but feel grateful for the incredible journey you and Carlos had embarked on together.

Suddenly, you remembered the comments on your relationship being fake crossed your mind. In an impulsive move, you turned to Carlos and whispered, "KIss me."

With that, you leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on his lips, not caring about the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

Carlos, caught off guard by your sudden boldness, responded by deepening the kiss, his lips pressing fervently against yours.

The paparazzi went wild, capturing the genuine love and connection between the two of you, proving once and for all that your relationship was far from fake.

When you were able to separate from each other, you grinned at the paparazzi, reveling in the moment of rebellion and spontaneity. Ignoring the bewildered looks from the crowd, you confidently took Carlos's hand and led him off the stage, eager to escape the prying eyes and enjoy the rest of the night in each other's company.

The paparazzi's cameras continued to flash behind you, capturing the image of two people deeply in love, unafraid to defy expectations and embrace their own happiness.

And that's what you were hoping for.

You two spent the rest of the event, stuck to each other like glue, while effortlessly navigating conversations with important people.

As you mingled and exchanged pleasantries, it became evident to everyone around that your connection was genuine, sincere, and unbreakable. People couldn't help but be drawn to the magnetic energy between you, as you effortlessly charmed and captivated those in your presence.

Carlos made sure to take extra care of you on the drive home, keeping a watchful eye as he navigated the streets.

He gently helped you out of the car when you arrived at your doorstep, ensuring you were safely inside before bidding you goodnight and heading back to his own place.

As you lay in bed, still buzzing with the excitement of the night, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky to have someone like Carlos by your side, always looking out for you and making sure you were taken care of.

If only it was all real and genuine. . . .

You woke up with a pounding headache and a foggy memory of the previous night's events. As you tried to piece together what had happened, you received a call from Carlos.

"Hello?" you muttered into the phone sleepily.

"Oh Y/N, were you asleep? I didn't mean to wake up," Carlos' voice came through your phone and you immediately woke up fully.

When you turned on your TV, the camera panned over to Carlos on the phone, and you were surprised to see him there already.

"Carlos! Why are you there already? You should have called me earlier or something?" you groaned at both your headache and the fact that you would have to go to the paddock by yourself instead of with Carlos.

"Cariño, I already told everyone that you were sick but that you were recovering quickly and everyone wished you well." Carlos stated, making you freeze in the middle of trying to get out of bed.

"You what?"

"You don't have to come Cariño, unless you really want to," Carlos really assured you and you could see his worried face on TV.

"Thank you, you saved me big time," you replied, sliding back into your bed with a relieving sigh.

"You're welcome Cariño,"

During the call, you and Carlos briefly chatted before the race was about to begin.

"Put it on video call for a second," Carlos asked quickly and you did it without hesitation, hoping he wouldn't mind your bed hair.

Carlos gave you an air kiss, and you returned one back, a substitute for the good luck kiss you would always give him before switching off the phone.

You couldn't help but smile at the gesture, knowing that Carlos was trying to be considerate in your absence.

"Okay goodbye Cariño, I'll win the race for you."

"Good luck Carlos."

With your spirits lifted, you sat down to watch the race. You watched attentively as Carlos gave it his all, pushing himself to the limits. To your surprise, he managed to secure second place.

As soon as he was able to, he called you. His voice was filled with a mix of joy and frustration.

"Congratulations, Carlos! Second place is still amazing!" you exclaimed with genuine excitement.

However, Carlos's disappointment was evident as he sighed heavily and said, "I know, but I really wanted that first place. I'll keep pushing harder for the next race."

"You did incredible, Carlos! I'm so proud of you," you reassured him. "Second place is a huge achievement, and it shows how much progress you've made. Don't be too hard on yourself. There will always be another race to aim for that first place."

Carlos let out a small chuckle, his voice filled with a mix of gratitude and determination. "Thank you, Cariño. Your support means everything to me. I won't rest until I reach that top spot."

"Well you can rest at my place with your personal massager waiting for you."

"I can't wait Cariño, I'll see you in the evening," He said happily. A smile could be heard from in his voice and you grinned at that.

You didn't know why you decided to invite Carlos over but now the deed was already done.

As you headed into the kitchen, you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. You knew how much Carlos loved your homemade tortillas and croquetas, and you wanted to make this evening extra special for him.

The sound of sizzling oil and the aroma of frying potatoes filled the air as you prepared the ingredients, imagining the look of delight on Carlos's face when he tasted the delicious meal you had prepared for him.

You quickly made your way to the bedroom to pick out an outfit that would make you look presentable for Carlos's arrival. After some consideration, you settled on a stylish yet comfortable ensemble—a fitted black blouse paired with high-waisted jeans and a pair of sleek black ankle boots.

To add a touch of elegance, you adorned your neck with a delicate silver necklace and slipped on a matching bracelet.

With your hair neatly styled and a hint of makeup to enhance your natural beauty, you felt confident and ready to welcome Carlos into your home.

Later in the day, there was a knock on your door. When you opened it, there was Carlos, holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Wow, Cariño, you look absolutely stunning," Carlos said, his eyes widening in admiration.

You blushed, not realizing the effect you had on him. "Thank you, Carlos. That's really sweet of you to say," you replied, genuinely touched by his compliment.

"Wow, these flowers are beautiful, Carlos! Thank you so much," you said, genuinely touched by the gesture.

Carlos smiled warmly, his eyes filled with admiration. "You deserve nothing less," he replied softly.

As you led him inside, you were completely unaware of the way Carlos' gaze lingered on you, captivated by your every move. Little did you know, his fascination with you had only grown stronger over time, and he couldn't help but hope that one day you would see him in the same light.

As you entered the dining room, Carlos's eyes widened with excitement as he saw the table set with all his favorite dishes. The aroma of homemade tortillas and croquetas filled the room, making his mouth water.

The warm glow of the candles and the delicious aroma that filled the air made his heart skip a beat. "Oh wow, you've really outdone yourself," he exclaimed, his face lighting up even more. "I can't believe you remembered all my favorites. This is incredible."

"I had to do something for my favourite driver," you teased, having Carlos pull away the chair for you so you could sit down.

"I must admit, being your favorite driver has its perks," Carlos replied with a playful wink, as he took his seat across from you. "But tonight, I'm here as more than just your driver. I'm here to enjoy this wonderful meal with an even more wonderful company."

Raising his glass, Carlos proposed a toast to celebrate their special evening together. "To us," he said, his voice filled with genuine affection. "May this be the first of many unforgettable nights spent in each other's company."

As you savored each bite of the delicious meal, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you and Carlos. Laughter filled the air as you shared stories, dreams, and aspirations.

The setting and shared moments created a deep connection, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this enchanting evening together. The hours flew by, and before you knew it, the empty plates and wine glasses were a testament to the delightful feast.

As the night progressed, you offered to give Carlos a well-deserved back massage. He gladly accepted and lay down on your couch, allowing you to work your magic. You applied gentle pressure and kneaded the tension from his muscles, feeling the knots melt away under his touch.

As you continued the massage, Carlos's body relaxed, and his mind became more at ease. The two of you watched the race replay on the television, analyzing every turn, every move, and every decision Carlos made.

It was a bittersweet moment as you both discussed the missed opportunities and what could have been done differently, but it also kind of brought you two closer together.

In that moment, Carlos realized that having someone who not only supported him but also understood his passion was truly invaluable.

"I think I should have attacked more at this turn," Carlos explained to you as he watched intensely at the way he drove on TV.

Suddenly he felt a sudden weight on his back and he peeked behind him to see you.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you peacefully slumbering on his back. The warmth of your body against his, coupled with the rhythmic rise and fall of your breath, brought about a sense of tranquility he hadn't felt in a long time.

Carlos gently shifted his position, careful not to disturb your sleep, and decided to stay in that moment a little while longer, relishing in the comfort and contentment of having you by his side.

As he continued watching the race replay, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and contentment, knowing that he had found not only a passionate supporter but also a person with whom he could share quiet, intimate moments like this.

You woke up in your bed for the second time in a row without knowing how you even got there in the first place. Confused, you blinked your eyes open and looked around, trying to piece together how you had ended up in your bed again.

The memories of the enchanting evening with Carlos and the comforting massage flooded back, but the details of how you had transitioned from the couch to your bed remained elusive.

It was as if the night had taken on a dreamlike quality, blurring the lines between reality and imagination. . . .

It was the Spanish Grand Prix, and you had the privilege of attending with Carlos for the first time since you've been together.

As you watched from your seat in Carlos' car how the bustling crowd of racing enthusiasts were, you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement. The vibrant red sundress you wore perfectly matched Carlos' spirited personality and love of speed.

You made your way to the entrance, the sun kissed your skin, and the adrenaline in the air heightened the anticipation of witnessing the roaring engines and exhilarating race. It was a moment you would never forget, a celebration of your shared passion and the beginning of many more thrilling adventures together.

As you two emerged from the car, his hand immediately touched your hips, guiding you through the paddock to the Ferrari garage.

As you walked through the crowded paddock, you couldn't help but notice the sea of red surrounding you. It seemed like everyone was wearing the team colors to show their support for Carlos and his racing team.

The vibrant red sundress you chose seemed to blend in perfectly with the atmosphere, making you feel like a part of the action. Carlos looked at you with a smile, appreciating the effort you had put into matching with him.

Occasionally, he would stop to sign autographs for his adoring fans. The anticipation surrounding Carlos was immense, as this was his home track and everyone expected a lot from him.

Before heading off to his meeting, you turned to him and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Your words were filled with warmth and admiration. You assured him. "I'm proud of you, no matter what happens."

"Thank you Cariño." he said smirking at you.

As you watched Carlos prepare for his race, you realized that this time, you would stay by his side instead of wandering off or meeting up with Lily, as you had often done in the past. This time, you understood that he needed more support before this race even started.

Carlos' home track held a special significance for his performance. Not only did it come with a sense of familiarity and comfort, but it also brought with it the unwavering support of the local fans who had been cheering him on since the beginning.

The energy and encouragement from the crowd fueled his determination to push harder and achieve success in front of his home audience.

You watched as he checked his car with the team, catching him glancing up at you multiple times to see if you were still there. It was clear that your presence meant a lot to him, and you were determined to be his unwavering source of support throughout the race.

As the time approached for the race to start, Carlos took you into a private room. As Carlos pulled you into the private room, a sense of urgency filled the air.

With hungry, heated kisses, his lips passionately explored yours, igniting a fiery desire within you. His strong hands tightly gripped your hips, pulling you closer, as if he couldn't get enough of you.

His actions sent shivers down your spine and intensified your longing for him. In that moment, you realized just how much his presence and touch ignited a deep desire within you, making you crave more of his passionate embrace.

You felt a surge of desire and passion, fueled by Carlos' intense affection. The way he held you, kissed you, and expressed his need for you created an irresistible magnetism between the two of you, intensifying your own desire and emotions.

Then, with a final look, he disappeared, leaving you with a mixture of excitement and anticipation.

Minutes later, the roar of the engines filled the air, signaling the start of the race. Your heart raced as you awaited the outcome.

Carlos immediately shot off the starting line, his car a blur of speed and determination. He skillfully maneuvered through the pack, steadily gaining ground on the leaders. As the race progressed, it became clear that Carlos was in a fierce battle for first place with Max and Lando, exchanging positions and pushing each other to their limits.

The crowd erupted with excitement, their cheers fueling Carlos' determination to seize the coveted top spot. Lap after lap, he showcased his exceptional racing skills, executing daring overtakes and defending his position with unwavering focus.

The tension in the air was palpable as the race entered its final stages, and it became a nail-biting fight to the finish line.

And then, it happened. The crowd erupted in cheers as Carlos crossed the finish line, victorious. His car sped past, his smile radiating joy and triumph.

As soon as he stepped out of the car, his eyes immediately sought you out.

You melted into his embrace, savoring the taste of victory and the warmth of his touch. The crowd roared around you, but in that moment, it was as if you were the only two people in the world. Your hands were cupping his cheeks, feeling the roughness of his stubble against your palms, while his hands rested firmly on your hips, anchoring you to the present.

The electrifying chemistry between the two of you was undeniable, and as you looked into each other's eyes, you knew that this victory was not just his, but yours as well.

In that instant, the world seemed to stand still. All your worries and doubts were forgotten. All that existed was the connection between you two.

In that moment, a surge of overwhelming love and pride washed over you. Thoughts of all the sacrifices and challenges you both had overcome flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel an immense sense of gratitude for being a part of Carlos' journey to victory.

"I'm so proud of you!" You said loud enough for him to hear over the chants of his name across the platform.

"Thank you Cariño, thank you for supporting me throughout," Carlos said, unable to think straight with the amount of adrenaline coursing through his body.

As the cheers of the crowd continued to echo in your ears, you leaned in and pressed your lips against Carlos' once more, savoring the taste of victory and the sweetness of his kiss. It was a moment of pure bliss, a celebration of their shared triumph.

Reluctantly, you pulled away, knowing that Carlos had to go to the podium to receive his well-deserved trophy.

With a final lingering glance, you whispered, "Go get that trophy, my champion." And with that, he ran off, leaving you with a heart filled with love and pride. . . .

It was the afterparty for Carlos' home win and everyone decided to go to a large club to celebrate.

As the night unfolded, you emerged from the car in a stunning red cocktail dress that hugged your curves in all the right places. The dress featured a plunging neckline and intricate lace detailing, exuding an air of elegance and sophistication.

The silky fabric cascaded down to your knees, swaying gracefully with every step you took. Your outfit was completed with a pair of sleek stiletto heels and a statement clutch, adding a touch of glamour to your ensemble.

As you entered the club, heads turned and whispers of admiration filled the air. The dimmed lights of the venue illuminated the sequins and beads embellishing your dress, creating a mesmerizing sparkle that mirrored the excitement in the room.

As the night progressed, you found yourself drawn into a conversation with the partners of the Formula One drivers.

"We're so proud of Carlos, we can't believe he did it," Lily said proudly, giving you a tight hug.

"Thank you, I can't believe it too," You replied, smiling happily at the memory of Carlos winning a few hours ago.

"It seemed like you were like his main support," Lily teased and your cheeks heated at her words.

"That's- that's not true." You denied it, "I just gave him an encouraging word here and there. It was mostly him that did all the work."

"That's not what Carlos said in his interview," Alexandra said, nudging your shoulder with hers.

Wanting to be a responsible person, you volunteered to be the sober one among you and Carlos. You wanted to allow Carlos to fully enjoy himself without worries, knowing that you would drive him home at the end of the night.

However, the girls in the group had a different idea. They suggested taking shots to celebrate, and despite your reservations, you decided to join the festivities.

As the night went on, the DJ played infectious music, prompting everyone to get up and dance. You found yourself caught up in the rhythm, joining in with the vibrant atmosphere.

Suddenly the music was lowered and you followed everyone's gaze, and to your surprise, there was Carlos walking into the club, holding his trophy high in the air. The crowd erupted into applause, creating a sea of cheering fans.

He made his way through the crowd, making space for himself to pass through. The crowd cleared out, creating a path for him to be in the center, where everyone could see him.

As he stepped onto the stage, the entire club erupted into applause. The cheering echoed through the air, a testament to his dedication and hard work.

You watched from a distance as Carlos delivered his speech, thanking his fans and everyone who had supported him that day. His words were filled with gratitude and humility, and it was evident that he meant every word.

From where you were standing, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in Carlos. He had achieved something extraordinary, and you had the opportunity to witness his moment of triumph firsthand.

Suddenly, your attention was drawn to a man in the crowd. He seemed particularly interested in you, despite it being widely known that you were already in a relationship with Carlos.

"Hello señorita, are you alone here?" The man asked. Some of his words were slurred.

"Umm, I'm not actually, I came with my friends," You said, trying to look for anyone familiar that was close by to help you.

"Well I don't see them so it's only me and you," he muttered amused by you. Everyone was watching Carlos' speech which meant that no one was going to help you.

"I'm in a relationship," you tried to remind him but that got him more angry.

"Lies! Everyone knows that you and him are in a PR relationship." He yelled, smashing his fist on the table he was leaning on.

You jumped at his actions, wishing someone would look and help you but it was never the case. This left you feeling confused and frustrated, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Just as you were contemplating how to respond, you felt a presence by your side.

Just as you were contemplating how to respond, you felt a presence by your side. It was Carlos. He looked concerned for you but angry at the man flirting with you.

Carlos stood protectively beside you, sending a clear message that you were not alone and that he would not tolerate anyone disrespecting you.

He stepped forward, his voice firm as he said, "I think it's time for you to leave."

The man's confident facade faltered, realizing he had crossed a line. He stammered an apology, his words barely audible, before quickly scattering off into the crowd. Carlos, still standing by your side, maintained his protective stance, his eyes never leaving the man's retreating figure.

You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful for Carlos' unwavering support in that moment.

Carlos then stood in front of you, holding your hands in his, "Are you okay? Did he do anything to you?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You shook your head, thankful that the situation didn't escalate further. "No, I'm okay. He was just being aggressive and disrespectful," you replied, feeling a mix of emotions.

Carlos squeezed your hands reassuringly, his eyes filled with a mix of anger and relief. "I'm glad you're safe. Let's stay together for the rest of the evening, okay? I won't let anything happen to you," he said, his protective nature shining through.

As Carlos guided you through the crowded room, his hands firmly on your waist, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and security. It was as if he was determined to keep you close, not wanting to lose sight of you again.

You leaned into his touch, grateful for his presence and the way he made you feel safe in a world that had seemed so uncertain just moments ago.

Eventually, you found the rest of the group and shared with them what had happened. Concerned for your well-being, they all agreed to stick together for the rest of the night, ensuring that everyone felt safe and protected.

As the evening went on, you felt a sense of unity and support among your friends, and the initial fear and uncertainty began to fade away.

Together, you formed a tight-knit circle, laughing, dancing, and enjoying each other's company, grateful for the strength and solidarity you found in one another.

All the boys decided to let the girls let loose and have a few drinks, taking on the role of guardians for the night.

They made sure the girls were safe, monitoring their alcohol intake and ensuring they were comfortable and protected.

It was a gesture of care and respect, fostering an environment where everyone could have a good time without any worries.

"Babe," you whined, clinging onto your boyfriend so you wouldn't fall to the ground.

Carlos chuckled, his eyes filled with both surprise and amusement at your playful whining. He tightened his grip around you, refusing to let you slip off.

"Oh, so you're trying to escape, huh?" he teased, pulling you closer and planting a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Nice try, but I've got you. I won't let you fall, my love."

"Escape? Who said anything about escaping?" you replied with a mischievous grin, playfully swaying your body to the rhythm of the music.

Carlos raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge gleaming in his eyes. "Well, then show me your best dance moves, and maybe, just maybe, I'll let you off the hook," he teased.

As the romantic melody filled the air, you and Carlos locked eyes, the playful banter fading into a tender moment. With a smile, you surrendered to the music, allowing it to guide your movement.

As the music pulsed through your bodies, you let your inhibitions melt away and decided to be more flirtatious with Carlos. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you began to sway your hips and grind your waist against him, teasing him with your seductive moves.

Carlos couldn't help but be captivated by your playful and alluring gestures, his eyes locked on yours, as the chemistry between you intensified on the dance floor.

The flirtatious energy in the air was palpable, as you whispered teasing promises in his ear, leaving him craving more of your touch.

"Mi amor, you better stop before you start something I won't stop," Carlos muttered into your ear, a playful warning laced with desire.

You laughed softly, feeling a surge of excitement at his words. "Oh, really? And what if I want to start something you won't stop?" you whispered back, your voice laced with a hint of seduction.

Carlos' eyes darkened with desire, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Then, mi amor, be prepared for a night you won't forget," he replied, his voice low and filled with anticipation

He leaned in and his lips crashed against yours, his kiss lingering for a few moments. You felt your heart flutter and your stomach knot as you melted into him, your body responding to him as if on autopilot.

You felt a wave of warmth wash over you as you gave in to the moment.

The night unfolded in a blur of passion and desire. Your memory of the events that followed became hazy, fragmented, and ultimately, nonexistent.

All you knew was that you had surrendered to the intoxicating connection between you and Carlos, allowing it to sweep you away into a realm where time stood still and only the sensations of pleasure remained. . . .

"Guys, we're going home," Carlos told the others while supporting you, his protective arm wrapped around your waist. As you stumbled slightly, still lost in the haze of passion, you couldn't help but feel grateful for his presence, knowing that he would take care of you every step of the way.

The night air was cool against your flushed skin as you stumbled towards Carlos' car. The events of the night replayed in your mind, a mix of excitement and contentment filling your thoughts.

As you settled into the passenger seat, you glanced at Carlos, a knowing smile passing between you.

As you fell asleep during the drive, Carlos carefully carried you into his house. His touch was gentle and protective. He laid you down on his bed, tucking you in with care before standing back to admire your peaceful form.

The events of the night had left you both physically and emotionally spent, and in that moment, Carlos couldn't help but feel a surge of tenderness towards you.

You woke up in a daze, your surroundings unfamiliar. Blinking away from the remnants of sleep, you realized you were in Carlos' bedroom. The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow on the room.

Your heart skipped a beat as you remembered the events of the previous night and the intense connection you shared with Carlos.

As you tried to move, you were slowly pulled into an embrace from behind you, making you jump slightly. Turning around, you saw Carlos half asleep in the bed, shirtless.

Carlos' dark hair was disheveled and sticking up in all directions, a clear sign that he had just woken up. His usually neat and tidy appearance was now replaced by the unkempt look of someone who had been sleeping soundly.

Despite his sleepy state, Carlos' facial features were still prominent. His strong jawline and high cheekbones gave him a rugged, masculine appearance, while his deep-set eyes and furrowed brow suggested a pensive, thoughtful nature.

As Carlos stretched his arms above his head, the muscles in his upper body rippled beneath his skin. The defined contours of his chest and arms were a testament to his dedication to physical fitness, even as he fought against the lingering drowsiness of his slumber.

His tousled hair and sleepy expression only added to his allure, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, feeling a flutter of warmth in your chest.

His eyes fluttered open, and a sleepy smile formed on his lips as he pulled you closer, whispering, "Good morning, beautiful."

"Did we do it?" You questioned shyly, unable to remember anything after they left the club.

"No, we didn't, you fell asleep before we could do anything," Carlos muttered, fighting against the sleep. "We wouldn't do anything either way, you were drunk."

As you remembered what you were doing in the club, you felt embarrassed and ashamed. The intense connection you shared with Carlos had clouded your judgment, and you realized that you were dangerously close to breaking the rules of the PR contract.

If you didn't stop, you knew that the consequences could be severe, jeopardizing not only your professional reputation but also your relationship with Carlos.

"Carlos, this was only supposed to be temporary, you know?"

"What is?"

"Our relationship."

Carlos then woke up more, resting up against his elbow so he could look at you better. His eyes slowly opened, and a soft frown spread across his face as he gazed at you. He reached out a hand, gently caressing your cheek, his touch warm and comforting.

“You’re talking about the PR contract?”

“Yes, this is what they were worried about, us getting too attached,” you tried to stress your concern but Carlos didn’t look bothered at all.

Carlos fully turned to you, a conflicted look on his face. "I know, I know. But I...I don't think I can just pretend anymore. Not with you."

Your heart raced as he inched closer, his warm brown eyes searching yours. "Carlos, we can't. It'll ruin everything if anyone finds out."

"I don't care," he whispered, cupping your face in his hands. "I'm tired of hiding how I feel about you."

And in that moment, any doubt you had melted away. You pulled him into a passionate kiss, all thoughts of the contract and the façade disappearing. This was real - the feelings you two had developed were undeniable.

His lips met yours with a fervent intensity, the heat between you palpable. All the unspoken emotions you had been harboring came rushing to the surface, igniting a fire within.

The world around you faded away as you lost yourself in his embrace, every touch sending electric shocks through your body.

In that passionate moment, there was no more room for hesitation or uncertainty. This connection you shared was undeniable, transcending any obligations or false pretenses.

It was real, raw, and overwhelming in the most intoxicating way. There was no turning back now - you had given yourself over completely to this man and the feelings you shared.

Whatever happened next, you knew you was in this with Carlos for the long haul. . . .

[glitch-but-ya]

Let your memory of me be lost to time.

Pairing: Sylus x Reader

TW: Angst, very slight "Beyond Cloudfall" spoilers, the reader doesn't share the same personality with MC, part 1 of a series.

Summary: The echo of your past self haunts you just as much as it haunts him. Having lost all the qualities that made him fall for you in the first place—the fierceness, the brutality, the darkness that once consumed a corner of your soul—Sylus is forced into a twisted dilemma, torn between you and the version of you he once loved. You loved him. You truly did. But you know that staying will only cause his heart to ache with the memory of what once was. WC: 1,241 words.

Part 2 , Part 3

"He chased after a lost fragment of me—the shadow of who I once was—all while I stood before him, longing to be seen."

When you needed him, Sylus closed the door in your face. You lost count of the number of times you’d shown up on his doorstep, your hands fidgeting awkwardly. You occasionally tugged at the hem of your attire, your eyes glued to the floor. Perhaps you were afraid to see the look on his face.

Each time, the moment your lips parted, they were silenced immediately by the sound of the door softly clicking shut. This went on for as long as you could remember. Day after day, you'd show up at his doorstep. You were persistent, and he could tell. No matter how many times he flatly rejected your presence, you'd be back the next day.

You never begged for him to open the door once he’d closed it. You didn’t cry, pound your fists on the wood, or scream out his name in desperation. You simply stood there, your lips quivering pathetically as you let out a sigh and eventually turned to leave.

As much as he hated to admit it, it hurt him to turn you away so often. After all, it wasn’t your fault that he clung to the version of you from your past life. He shouldn’t have expected you to remain the same. And frankly, he didn’t. But what he never could have anticipated was you losing all the qualities that had rendered you appealing to him in the first place.

You were no longer the woman who had fearlessly ventured into his den to claim his life. You were no longer the sinner they all cowered before. And you were no longer her, the woman he once adored. You were like the sister of a deceased lover whom he’d promised to protect, but no more than that. It was true that he held some sort of affection for you.

But it wasn’t love.

The events of the past may have left him with a small amount of endearment and a sense of responsibility, but it was never enough to equate to love.

And what hurt him the most was the fact that you did indeed love him. He’d led you on with false hope, and you knew it. Yet, you didn’t complain. You never held him accountable for the ways he hurt you, for the consequences of his own naivety. Your love for him was pure, untainted, and whole. He wouldn’t have cared if it had been anyone else. But it was you—the woman he had once cradled so tenderly in his arms.

And yet, now that he gazed down upon you, Sylus could not find her in you. Your eyes were kinder and no longer burned with the intensity that had once challenged his authority. Your face was gentler, lacking the sharpness and confidence it once radiated. Most importantly, your entire being lacked the confidence that had sometimes outshined his own. You were still an exceptional person; that was beyond a shadow of a doubt. You were intelligent, strong, and possessed many talents that left even someone as seasoned as him stunned. But alas, you were not her.

You knocked on his door, just as you did every day, and he opened it. But this time, your hands clutched a casket.

Before he could close the door on you, you thrust the casket toward him, almost forcefully. Sylus cocked an eyebrow and scanned the box. "What is this?" You pushed it further into his face. "Payback." Now that you looked back on it, the wording was quite questionable.

Sylus took the casket from your hands and lifted the lid. The sight of what was inside caused his breath to hitch. The box was full of trinkets: jewelry, stones, watches, earbuds, bookmarks, and more—things he had gifted you in the past. When his gaze met yours pitifully, you pointed to the bags at your sides. "And I packed the dresses in these bags. I squished them all in together; I hope you don’t mind," you said with an apologetic smile.

All the while, he stared at you in awe. The silence that followed was deafening. He knew you didn’t mean to come off as spiteful, but that only hurt more. You returned everything because you felt you had to—because you sensed his grief and knew his heart so wholly. Even though he’d said nothing and demanded nothing, you felt as if you’d failed him. You felt as though you didn’t deserve all the things he’d gifted you. These weren’t presents for you, but for the past version of yourself he had hoped you’d become. And he could tell.

Sylus’s gaze returned to you. You fidgeted before him awkwardly, swaying as your eyes remained glued to the floor. "If I missed anything, you can tell me, and—" "That will be enough," he interjected, his voice colder and more distant than he intended. He saw you wince at his tone before nodding slowly.

"Before I leave... can we talk?" Sylus replied with a hesitant nod. You straightened yourself.

"I’m sorry," you started. "I couldn’t be her." Your eyes met his scarlet gaze. "I tried. I think you can tell. I tried to be her, to piece together her personality from my limited memory. And I’m sure it didn’t work. It was bound to fail because you loved her," you said, grimacing slightly. "And you knew her, inside and out. But anyway, I’m sorry. I couldn’t retain my old self, and I couldn’t mold myself to fit into the gaps. It’s—" "Not your fault," Sylus interrupted, looking elsewhere. "It was foolish of me. I held unrealistically high expectations for you. It was only natural you didn’t meet them. Nobody could." He shook his head. "We were a lost cause. There’s no point in lingering on this matter. Let’s both let it go and move on." You nodded in agreement. "But even then..." you bit your lip. "You won’t forget, will you? My... changes. They left a scar on you. A deep one. And this time, you can’t heal it."

"What about you?" You tilted your head, pointing at yourself. "Me?" He nodded. "What will you do?" "Fade away from your life, and eventually, your memories. Although I wish for you to remember me, it’s better if you don’t." You placed your hand over your heart. "Remove me from your world, Sylus. Let yourself forget me and my existence."

"We are bound by fate," he retorted. "We will run into each other, whether we want to or not." "Then let it be so that, if we meet again, I will be a mere stranger you’ve never met before."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between the two of you.

"So, I guess this is goodbye." You smiled in response, your eyes glimmering with silent tears. "I truly did love you, Sylus. But you’re not mine." You turned around, preparing to leave. "I’ve put something in the bag. Do whatever you want with it. Burn it, rip it, or treat it with care. It’s up to you."

You looked over your shoulder at him one last time. "May your memory of the me now be lost to time. I pray that, if we meet again in another life, you’ll find it in your heart to love me. Until then, goodbye."

And so, you left, leaving both a lingering sense of loss and relief in Sylus's heart.

[43501]

Opened my copy of Another Note: The Los Angeles BB Murder Cases for the first time in a decade and man, I forgot this is a goldmine of info and Mello characterization. It lets us know what kind of person Mello is almost more than the source material. Every time he's on panel/screen he's always so intense, it's fascinating to see him write and kind of get this feeling of "oh, he is also a normal guy outside of those situations".

He says he had one extensive in-person meeting with L, which is backed up by this other post of mine where I point out that, in the anime at least, Mello references having spoken to L personally. If we take it as canon it means L and Mello met at some point between Kira emerging and L leaving England for Japan.

He expresses a strong sense he might die. I've seen people say that he's "narrating from beyond (heh) the grave" and it's nonsensical, but that's not what's happening here. He's just writing while anticipating his death and writing as if these notes may be discovered posthumously.

He thinks that, in the event he dies, Near is the one who will discover his writings. This is interesting to me because it suggests Mello either knows Near knows his whereabouts, or would figure it out and recover his belongings. I actually think this is outright supported by canon - we see Near eating Mello's chocolate in the manga's epilogue. I don't think he instructed his staff to go out and buy that same chocolate, I think that's straight up Mello's stash.

At some point he started identifying less with the "Mello" alias and calling himself Mihael.

He's so sentimental... ending the prologue simply with "Good memories and nightmares". Bro.

"Imagine you were going to kill someone. What do you think would be the most difficult part? .... The correct answer: killing someone." Damn, I love you Mello lol. Also fascinating when you remember that he achieved his status in the mafia by beheading someone. Yes, he would know how hard it is to kill a person.

Mello states that he and Near belong to the "fourth generation" of Wammy's House kids.

He expresses open sympathy for Beyond and his state, twice... based on his own narration and how he portrays B in the course of the story, he definitely relates to B's emotions.

"Perhaps these gods actually wanted a blood soaked world of betrayal and false accusation. Perhaps the entire episode exists as a lesson to teach us the difference between the Almighty and the shinigami." I can't entirely make sense of this, and I don't want to get ahead of myself, but is "Almighty" capitalized here to definitely refer to the divine? Like, the Christian God but in a bit of a sidestepped, roundabout way? Wish I could see the original Japanese text for this line. If anyone has essays/posts about it, please show me.

And on a meta-textual level, the ambiguity of our role/perspective as the reader of these notes is also interesting. We're probably just an omniscient, unmoored observer being told about this set of notes Mello wrote and his line to the effect of "if it happens to turn into [a book]" is tongue-in-cheek. I know there's a slight, hanging implication that Near did in fact publish his notes, but I think that's unlikely since they contain so much sensitive/classified information.

[astral-herald]

Uncritically Enjoying Mage Viktor

sometimes when i turn off my angry (logical) brain, i achieve some very sentimental mage viktor clarity that i would like to share <3

this is a lot different from my other Thoughtful "Analysis" Posts. my plan is as follows: address my understanding, slim though it may be, of mage viktor; bullet-point all the less than critical/theory driven reasons why he makes me happy; make a somewhat melodramatic point about reading/viewing for fulfillment over critique. mage-tor enjoyers, unite!

What is Mage Viktor's Purpose?

Try as I might to turn off my thoughtfulness, I am typically critical of the media I enjoy, so I'll be among the first to admit that Mage Viktor was certainly a retcon. That seems to be the fandom consensus, so I won't reiterate too much on that point. It makes shots like this especially funny, though, because that is simply not the Viktor we know, interdimensional or otherwise:

But something I would like to push back on is a pervasive "favorable" read on Mage Viktor as we come to know him in season 2. I fully disagree with the idea that Mage Viktor sought Jayce out in every timeline because he loved Jayce, rather than as a means of saving the countless innocents Viktor in other timelines would inevitably kill thanks to Hextech, the Glorious Evolution, etc. Hear me out for a second!

Bestie @arowyn-m pointed out to me that Necrit confirmed that Hextech is THE canonical event, the linchpin, so to speak, that ignites the chain of events we see culminate in season 2. These are the same events that Mage Viktor seeks to prevent. It takes however many lifetimes and iterations of mass destruction for Mage Viktor to gather two vital facts about the universe: Hextech is the inciting, inevitable incident, and Jayce is the complementary indelible constant. Hextech is inevitable, but only Jayce can show Viktor how to stop it.

Viktor's love for Jayce is not what motivates Mage Viktor to seek him out - it is the inevitable result of their being "inextricably bound." Reducing Mage Viktor's manipulation of time/space/what have you to his desperate need to protect Jayce in every timeline morphs him into a very out-of-character Genocidal Eldritch Being when he's supposed to be the antithesis of OUR Machine Herald Viktor. By taking up Mage Viktor's quest to kill Machine Herald Viktor under these very specific circumstances - acceleration rune in hand - Jayce can end the cycle. He trumps the inciting incident. His love for Viktor reigns supreme.

The fact that this is so awkward to explain speaks to the severity of the retcon. I guess what I'm getting at is that Mage Viktor was not acting out of selfish, obsessive love (as romantic as that may seem to some); he was searching for a way to right his wrongs and found it in Jayce, his inseparable other half.

"Only you could show me this."

MORE TO THIS POINT: even Mage Viktor, for all his implied wisdom, having seen countless lifetimes wherein they failed to stop Hextech, still does not anticipate the depth of Jayce's love for him. He (presumably, because don't see this exchange, because Riot made egregious cuts) tells Jayce that the Viktor of this world must die. Jayce "can't fail." As far as I can tell, he never tells Jayce that he has to die along with him. Jayce rejected Viktor's bid to be partners again, after all...

Mage Viktor, like the true Viktor that lurks within the Machine Herald, still believes that Hextech is fully his fault. He still believes in his own weakness and his shortcomings and is so reliant, obsessed with independence that he refuses to share this responsibility. When Mage Viktor reveals himself to Machine Herald Viktor, and he's confronted with the depths of his own feelings, he shoves Jayce away in a last-ditch attempt to preserve his isolation.

Jayce does not allow this.

The love that keeps Viktor "inextricably bound" to Jayce is not one-sided. Viktor, in all iterations and timelines, does not bear the responsibility for Hextech alone. In his dying moments, when he finally understands that LOVE is what has kept he and Jayce together all this time, his humanity returns to him. They save the world - literally. Love literally conquered all. No Viktor, not even Mage Viktor, anticipated this. All Jayce really had to do was kill this Viktor, but he couldn't bear to part ways.

TLDR: Mage Viktor found a way to save the world, but Jayce found a way to reignite Viktor's humanity. Neither of things could coexist without the other.

Smaller, Less Important Reasons Why I Like Mage Viktor

I'll never forget the breathless whiplash I felt upon Mage Viktor's reveal. I feel pretty alone in that experience - oh well! I'll be the pariah! - but here are the reasons why he's made such an impression on me.

Seeing an aged Viktor hit me like a bus. I know he's still stricken with the arcane, but there's so much wisdom and kindness and life experience in his expression. I never thought we'd see that. I doubt he did, either.

BEARD VIKTOR TRUTHER.

It gives Viktor some agency back. I wrote in an earlier post that Mage Viktor being the one to liberate Viktor from his own tragic narrative is pretty awesome, and I stand by that.

Mage Viktor's vulnerability. I feel like Mage Viktor, finally realizing that this Jayce is the right one, that this moment is the pivotal one, says a lot of what Viktor in all timelines longs to say to Jayce.

The question of lifetimes - how many times did Viktor search for Jayce? How many times did he watch a timeline go by without him? How much loneliness did he endure (for the greater good?). What was it like seeing that in-universe Viktor had killed Jayce?

Reading Uncritically (I Swear This is Relevant)

Rita Felski, a very cool literary critic who we all should read, said the following about reading critically (the way that lots of us engage with Arcane on tumblr): "It is a mode of interpretation that adopts a distrustful attitude toward texts...that remain inaccessible to their authors as well as to ordinary readers" ("Suspicious Minds" 216). Even though she's writing about academia/literary criticism, I think her point still stands. We engage with media with the intent to expose, unearth, and problematize. We eagerly search for moments where the text fails us at the expense of the "superficial" that would otherwise uplift us. We are practicing the "hermeneutic of suspicion," which can be exceptionally draining.

It's pretty melodramatic of me to apply this kind of theoretical work to Arcane, of all things, but this story means a great deal to me. It is deeply flawed - the Mage Viktor retcon is kind of appalling if you stare down the barrel of suspicion. But, in looking through a reparative lens (Eve Sedgwick's word, not mine), I see Mage Viktor as a agency-ridden Viktor, an aged Viktor, a vision of the future Jayce and Viktor together make possible. I'm enriched by that.

Felski asks us: "How else might we venture to read, if we were not ordained to read suspiciously?" (232). What can we derive from Arcane by putting the pieces together with the goal of harmony and fulfillment? In the smallest sense, we may feel a bit better about the ways in which season 2 seriously let us down. In a larger, more hopeful sense, moments like Viktor confessing an ultimate love and attachment to Jayce, and Jayce returning it in kind, may fill us with an even deeper appreciation for unconditional love as the culmination of human connection, a world-ending and world-renewing thing that stares down the BBEG of Arcane and wins.

You could probably read all of this as my apology for enjoying what so much of the fandom has condemned. That's alright. There are so many pieces of Mage Viktor that fragment under the critical microscope, but I can't shake the emotional impact of his reveal, so I'll live in that space for the time being. Had Arcane allotted for any explanatory conversations, flashbacks, and/or given up their soft world build to account for Mage Viktor, we'd be in a better place plot-wise. Alas, here we are instead. Everyone can point and laugh at me if they did all this just to bring back God/Made/Eldritch Being/Whatever The Fuck Viktor in future projects. That'll be my penance!

And, finally, if you really didn't like Mage Viktor, I fully respect that, but this is my self-indulgent post and I'm not overly interested in debating...there's little anyone could say that I wouldn't agree with. I'm just avoiding the suspicion of it all :)

[leighsartworks216]

22 and/or 25 for our lovely doctor zayne!!

Warm Hands

Zayne x gn!Reader

Prompts from this list

22 - falling asleep on the other's shoulder; 25 - stroking the other's arm soothingly

I started writing this last night after being out and about all day and honestly it's a miracle I got two words out at all

Warnings: fluff, established relationship, no dialogue, cuddling, slightly touch-starved Zayne, sleep, scars

Word Count: 592

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

The charity gala hosted by Akso went on longer than anticipated. It’s just past midnight when it ends and everyone shuffles out to go home. The only signs of life at this hour manifest in small moths dancing under the streetlights.

The excitement of the event and the low hum of the car’s engine have already coaxed you to sleep. Sitting upright, your head lolls to the side at an odd angle. He glances over every so often. It never fails to bring a smile to his face.

His hands move fluidly on the wheel as he comes up to a turn. He deftly flicks the indicator as he slows down, leather slipping through his fingers as he glides around the curb. The quiet clicking of the blinker ends as he straightens back out.

The momentum is just enough to shift you from your upright position. Your head lands on his shoulder, hard enough he’s worried it may have woken you. Thankfully, when he looks down to check, you’re still fast asleep, subconsciously adjusting to use his shoulder as a pillow and lean against the center console.

It warms his heart, more than you’ll ever know, to have you this close. To have any such physical affection so unceremoniously given to him. He’s scarred and cold and stiff. Years spent alone have all but erased the old familiarity of close camaraderie and love. Then you come in and touch his cheek or wrap your arms around him. Trace the scars settled deep in his skin or brush his hair from his face. So warm and welcoming and easy, and he wants to fall right in every single time.

He wishes he could fall into it right now. Wishes he could simply pull over and lean his head on yours, awkwardly reaching across to hold you as he joins you in sleep. Instead, he keeps driving toward home. The prospect of holding you close in bed is enough to chase away the tired strain in his eyes.

With one hand on the wheel, he reaches over, glancing every now and then to make sure he doesn’t wake you. His hand finds your arm where it sits in your lap. His heart stutters like a lovesick teenager having their first kiss.

In languid motions, he strokes your arm over a small area, overtop his own coat that he had you put on before getting in the car. The material is soft and heats under his touch, but it is no substitution for your own skin. Perhaps it is this thought that has his hand slipping further down to seek yours. Long fingers gliding over your wrist where the coat-sleeve ends; even further down to slip between your own fingers and hold your hand. Your heated palm pressing against his, chasing away the chill he’s so accustomed to.

You sigh softly through your nose as you nuzzle your cheek against him. For a brief moment, your hand tightens around his, then relaxes as you settle into your dreams.

When he does pull into the parking lot of your shared apartment, he doesn’t rush to get out. He lingers there, resting his cheek on your head. His free hand brushes over your cheek before resting at the base of your neck. Eyes close as he listens to your breaths and his own heartbeat. Lingers in this uncomfortable, awkward cuddle. Just for a minute or two. Just until he can feel the tendrils of sleep coaxing him in.

When he carries you inside, his hands are warm.

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @deepzombieyouth @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry @hawtlineblingz

[airybcby]

Hi! Here for the More than a married couple (but not lovers) event. That's such a GREAT IDEA!! So sweet😭💖

The character I chose is Michael 🍓🍦

Also kudos to you for starting another event even though you're still writing asks! you're really spoiling us💕

i really enjoyed doing the last event, tysm!!

A Michael Kaiser Strawberry Sundae...

જ⁀♡⊹｡° every version of yourself

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event :)

♡ content — michael kaiser x gn! reader, gn! reader, set in a high school so no funny buisness, supposed to be kinda unrequited love?, kaiser's own insecurities, takes you through the length of the simulation, kaiser still plays soccer, kaiser in HS if he wasn't traumatized :))), still cocky though, an little flirty, nickname like 'spouse' used, popular! kaiser, quiet! shy! reader

♡ synopsis — being paired with michael kaiser may be the worst thing to ever happen to you...or so you think

The classroom buzzed with anticipation as the names were called out. Each pair announced felt like a small shockwave in the room, but the real chaos came when your name was read.

“And finally... Michael Kaiser and Y/N.”

The gasps, whispers, and sharp glares that followed made you shrink in your seat. Everyone’s eyes darted between you and the blonde at the back of the room, who leaned lazily against his chair, unfazed.

Kaiser didn’t even look your way. Typical. Why would he? Michael Kaiser wasn’t just a soccer prodigy; he was the center of attention everywhere he went. The school’s golden boy. The one every girl wanted to be paired with. And somehow... you, the average nobody, ended up in the simulation with him.

“Well,” Kaiser said finally, standing and giving a theatrical stretch. He smirked as if this was all a game, his piercing blue eyes sweeping over the room like he’d already won something. “Guess I’ll be seeing a lot more of you.”

Your cheeks burned as laughter rippled through the room. His tone was light, teasing, but it only made the pit in your stomach grow. How were you supposed to survive an entire month living with Michael Kaiser?

The simulation began with a flurry of paperwork and rules. You were handed a key to a mock apartment and a thick packet outlining tasks you’d need to complete as a "couple" to pass. Cooking meals together, managing a budget, planning dates—it all felt bizarre. But the strangest part? Being tied to Michael Kaiser for every waking moment.

The apartment itself was small but cozy. Two bedrooms flanked a shared living space, and the kitchenette barely fit two people at a time. You stood awkwardly by the door as Kaiser strolled in like he owned the place. He dropped his duffel bag on the couch and turned to you with that signature smirk.

“Well, spouse, welcome home,” he drawled, tossing his duffel onto the larger bedroom’s bed without hesitation. “Don’t worry, I won’t invade your room. You’ll have all the space you need to miss me.”

Your brow furrowed. “Pretty confident about claiming the bigger room.”

He shrugged with a grin. “Call it a perk of being me.”

Typical Kaiser. You rolled your eyes but didn’t push it further. How were you supposed to survive an entire month living with someone so… larger than life?

The first week was… manageable, mostly because Kaiser didn’t seem to take the simulation seriously. He’d breeze through tasks with minimal effort, brushing off your attempts at cooperation.

“Budgeting? Just write whatever, I don’t care,” he’d said with a shrug one afternoon.

“Kaiser, we lose points if we don’t do it properly,” you insisted, tapping the form with your pen.

He rolled his eyes but leaned over anyway, closer than necessary, close enough to where his musky cologne made it hard to think. He hummed as he glanced at the page. “Fine. Put down ‘caviar’ and ‘gold-encrusted steak.’ That’ll impress the evaluators.”

You glared at him, but he just laughed. It was infuriating, how easy everything seemed to him.

Still, there were glimpses of something more.

Like the time you cooked dinner together. It was one of the mandatory tasks, and Kaiser insisted on doing as little as possible—until you nearly sliced your hand while chopping vegetables.

“Careful!” He grabbed your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle. For a moment, his usual bravado disappeared, replaced by something softer.

You were shocked, but not by his sudden loudness or his worry. No, you were shocked by watching the point value on your living room wall go up.

Oh so being a decent person and taking care of someone got you points? How silly...kind of.

“I’m fine,” you mumbled, pulling away.

“Yeah, well, try not to bleed all over the food. I’m not eating anything with extra seasoning,” he teased, smirking as he handed you a safer task.

And just like that, the moment was gone.

By the second week, you started to notice cracks in his perfect façade.

It happened late one night when you couldn’t sleep. You wandered into the living room to grab some water, only to find Kaiser sitting by the window, staring out at the city lights. His usual confident posture was gone, replaced by something almost… scared, like a child that's been missing their mother just a little too long.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you asked hesitantly.

What were you doing? Yes, this project required interacting with each other, but you could have ignored him.

What was it about Michael Kaiser that made you act so...unlike yourself?

He didn’t answer right away, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlamps. Finally, he spoke. “Do you ever feel like people only see what they want to see?”

You blinked. “What do you mean?”

He glanced at you then, his blue eyes unreadable. “Forget it. Go back to bed.”

But you couldn’t forget it. The question lingered, and for the first time, you wondered if Michael Kaiser—the golden boy everyone adored—might be lonelier than he let on.

Things began to shift in the third week.

It was subtle at first. The way Kaiser’s teasing softened, the way he started helping more with the tasks instead of leaving everything to you. He even started calling you by your name instead of “spouse” or other mocking nicknames.

And then there were the moments where he’d look at you—not with the cocky smirk he wore like armor, but with something quieter, almost vulnerable.

You didn’t know what to make of it. You’d spent so long nursing your one-sided crush, convinced he’d never see you the way you saw him. And maybe he didn’t. Maybe you were imagining things.

But then came the final task: planning a “date night.”

You went all out, wanting to ace the simulation. You planned a picnic under the stars, complete with fairy lights and a playlist of soft, dreamy songs. Kaiser didn’t seem particularly invested at first, but when he saw the setup, his eyes lit up with genuine surprise.

“You did all this?” he asked, looking almost impressed.

You shrugged, trying to play it cool, but probably just looking like a dork who took this a little too seriously, “It’s for the grade.”

“Right,” he said, though his tone was softer than usual. And for a moment, Michael Kaiser looked truly upset by what you said...but why?

The night was quiet and peaceful, the two of you sitting side by side on the blanket. For once, Kaiser wasn’t filling the silence with jokes or teasing remarks. Instead, he turned to you, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said suddenly.

You blinked. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I thought this whole thing would be a waste of time,” he admitted. “But… you’re different. You’re real.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Michael…”

He smirked then, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll give me the wrong idea.”

But maybe, just maybe, the idea wasn’t so wrong after all.

The final week of the simulation was a blur of evaluations and last-minute tasks, but something had shifted irrevocably between you and Kaiser. He wasn’t just the golden boy anymore. He was Michael—arrogant, infuriating, but also thoughtful and surprisingly kind in his own way.

On the last night in the apartment, you found yourself standing in the kitchen, packing up your things. Kaiser leaned against the counter, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“So, this is it, huh?” he said, his voice unusually quiet as he stared into the almost empty cabinet, only filled with the stupid matching couples cups he got after an argument that lost you two points in the first week.

“Yeah,” you said, not trusting yourself to say more. What else could you say? 'Oh Michael, I love you and expect you to marry me!'

You'd rather die than be shot down like that.

He hesitated, then reached out to tilt your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You know,” he said softly, “you’re kind of impossible to forget.”

Your breath hitched. “Michael—”

“Don’t,” he said, his smirk returning, though his eyes betrayed something deeper. “I’ll see you around, yeah?”

And just like that, he was gone.

Leaving those stupid cups behind.

Graduation loomed over you like a terrifying monster. It'd been a week since you'd spoken to Kaiser, both of you being too absorbed in your own lives. But you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had been left unsaid. Until one day, days later, you found a note slipped into your locker. It was short, written in Kaiser’s unmistakable scrawl:

"I wasn’t joking when I said you were impossible to forget. Let me prove it. Dinner?"

Your heart raced as you read the words. Maybe, just maybe, the idea wasn’t so wrong after all.

this was the first one i wrote for this event so i hope this layout is okay!

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[dragonridersandhighlords]

Chasing Shadows | S I X

PLEASE READ NOTE AND WARNINGS BEFORE READING

masterlist | CS Masterlist

Summary: Amid the high stakes of War Games and mounting political tensions, Wrenley struggles to reconcile fractured loyalties, a dangerously complicated love, and the dark truths hidden behind trusted faces.

Notes: PLEASE READ This chapter includes difficult topics that may be difficult for some readers. All of these things are things I have experienced in my own life and but should not be taken as fact as I am not an expert. Please if something in this chapter is something you find triggering DO NOT READ, this chapter can be skipped using this non descriptive summary in order to continue the story. Your mental health matters.

Warnings: implied threats and political coercion, power imbalance, sexual coercion, noncon physical contact, emotional manipulation, gaslighting, mentions of trauma, ptsd responses, and romantic conflict

Word Count: 7.6k

previous part

The air crackled with tension as the Fourth Wing’s leadership huddled around a map, the weight of the upcoming War Games heavy in the air. Xaden's voice cut through the murmurs, confident yet laced with an undercurrent of uncertainty. 

“Give Dain the flag.” My thoughts spiraled as I momentarily opened a door in my mind that I had worked hard to keep shut. 

“Are you sure about that?” Xaden’s voice echoed in my head, a blend of skepticism and concern. I could hear him speaking to the others, but my focus was solely on the lingering connection between us—fragile and complicated. 

“He learned something in Montserrat. Let him prove it,” I shot back, my heart racing not just from the stakes but from the way he seemed to challenge me, as if questioning my judgment hurt more than I cared to admit. 

“Wrenley is going to be running point for our wing here on the flight field.” I turn to glare at him, my annoyance evident but he speaks before I can. “Want me to trust your boyfriend? You aren’t going into War Games with a hidden signet like last year.” 

His words ignited a fire in my chest. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped through the channel, fighting to keep my composure as I remembered last night's events again. I shake off the memory and return to my squad with Dain, flag in hand, heart still racing. 

“You need to tell someone what happened.” Desa chastises, she’s been telling me the same thing since I ran out of Dain’s room.

“Telling someone makes it real. I don’t want to admit that he’d go that far.”

“Youngling—“

“Drop it, Desa.”

“Which is it? Offense or defense?” Heaton's question broke through my thoughts. 

“Both,” Dain replied, his smile infectious, easing the tension as he detailed our strategy. The second and third years erupted in cheers, while I watched the first years, their expressions a mix of excitement and confusion. 

“What are we missing?” Ridoc asked, glancing between Dain and I. “Because you guys seemed thrilled about an egg,” he added, clearly trying to piece together the buzz in the air. 

“From past years, we know that eggs are worth more points,” Cianna chimed in, her enthusiasm palpable. “Flags have statistically been the lowest, and captured professors rank somewhere in the middle.” 

“But they like to switch it up,” Dain added, his gaze shifting back to the map. “The same way we could be going for a real objective on the line only to discover it’s not as valuable as we thought.” 

Rhiannon tilted her head, skeptical. “So how is this both offense and defense? If they have the egg, then clearly we should go get the egg.” 

“Because we’ve also been given a flag to defend and no outpost to do it in.” Dain’s smile is infectious, his enthusiasm illuminating the otherwise tense atmosphere. “And our squad has been assigned to carry it.” 

“And who is going to carry this flag?” The question hangs in the air, charged with anticipation.

Dain, ever the optimist, somehow manages to widen his grin even more, revealing the carefree spirit that makes him so beloved among us. “That’s going to be the fun part.” As we walk towards the flight field, he details the plan, his voice animated, every gesture lively. I can’t help but smile at how effortlessly he commands attention and support, but my head spins from the memories and my smile drops.

Violet, her arms crossed and brow furrowed, interrupts with a sneer, “Where’s Tavis going to be?”

“I’ll be running point from here,” I assert as we arrive at the field, the scent of leather and dragonfire permeating the air. The sight of our squad's dragons, majestic creatures waiting in the far corner on the right, fills me with a mix of pride and apprehension. “Any flag, egg, or captured professor you get will be brought to me. I’ll be tracking points.”

“So you get to stay here all safe while we all risk dying?” Violet’s tone drips with sarcasm, her resentment palpable. It takes all my restraint not to punch her. “I don’t even have a signet yet.”

“And you’re a first-year with the strongest dragon alive,” I counter, adopting a playful pout. “If you have a problem, you can bring it to leadership.” My glare hardens, determined to stand my ground. “Watch your attitude, Sorrengail. I’d hate for you to get stuck with the worst of the second-year jobs next year.” With that, I stride past her toward Desa, the tension in my chest tightening.

“Did you see Xaden had a saddle made for her?” Imogen remarks, joining me with a curious glint in her eye.

I turn instinctively, spotting the sleek leather saddle on Tairn, where Violet and Xaden are engaged in conversation. “Quit playing favorites,” I retorted, rolling my eyes as I connected with the channel. 

“Just trying to make sure I don’t accidentally drop dead because she can’t keep her seat,” Xaden responds, his voice smooth and teasing.

“Maybe save us all the trouble and let it happen.” I think to myself.

“Alright then.” 

Fuck, I didn’t mean to send that. “That’s not what I meant, Xay.” The weight of my words lingers.

“I heard you loud and clear, Wren. I know what it sounds like where your thoughts are pushed through.” 

The words tangle in my mind, a chaotic storm that threatens to drown me in its intensity.

Fuck me. Fuck. Me.

“I’m sure the squad leader would enjoy that.” Desa’s voice cuts through the haze, her amusement ringing like a bell, brightening the tension that has cloaked me. 

“Why don’t you make yourself useful and be anywhere else?” I groan, dragging my hand across my face, feeling the heat of frustration radiate through my skin. 

“Just saying. Cath complained to me all night because of it.” 

“You know why I—” 

My words dissolve into the air as the dragons launch into the sky. Their powerful wings beat against the wind, sending gusts swirling around me as I lift my gaze. The air fills with the sound of roaring flames and cries of exhilaration, a chaotic symphony that drowns out everything else. I focus on Xaden, who soars high above, laughter spilling from his lips, a carefree spirit against the vast blue canvas of the sky. 

The memory of last year rushes back like a tidal wave, filling me with warmth and nostalgia. Bodhi, Garrick, Xaden, and I had been an inseparable team, chasing after Second Wing’s egg with hearts full of laughter and camaraderie. We were fearless, or so we thought, until I was unceremoniously knocked from my dragon by an air wielder, plummeting toward the ground. The rush of air around me had transformed into a chilling silence as my screams echoed in Desa and Xaden’s minds. I can still recall the frantic dive, their desperate attempts to catch me. Just a heartbeat away from disaster, Sgaeyl’s claw had caught me, the rough grip saving me from a brutal impact. 

I shake my head, pushing the haunting recollection aside, and focus on the present. The dragons weave through the sky, their forms blurring in the distance as points are scored in the ongoing chaos of War Games. But as my gaze darts around, searching for familiar silhouettes, my vision sharpens and falters, blurring at the edges, causing me to stumble slightly. 

In the midst of my swirling thoughts, I catch sight of Liam and Deigh locked in a fierce battle against Jack and his dragon. My heart skips a beat as I watch Jack strike—his blade piercing Liam’s side before he forcefully kicks him off. Liam falls, spiraling away from Deigh’s back, the world suddenly narrowing to that one horrifying moment. 

I gasp, breaking free from the vision, my breath hitching in my throat. 

“Jack’s going to kill Liam. They’re to the south of Basgiath on the cliffs.” 

“I’m on my way.”

“Xaden!” I shout, my voice slicing through the cacophony of chaos as I sprint toward him, the ground vibrating beneath my boots. The smell of scorched earth and dragonfire hangs thick in the air, a lingering reminder of the fierce battles fought. When he dismounts Sgaeyl, my heart races, each beat echoing my desperation. “Is he alive?”

“Violet caught him,” he responds, his voice strained, urgency woven through every syllable. I catch a glimpse of his sweat-soaked hair, the damp strands clinging to his forehead, his eyes flickering with a mix of relief and concern. “Rhiannon is taking him to the healers now.” 

A breath escapes me—a sigh that rushes from my lips like a storm breaking, the weight on my chest lifting just enough to let in a glimmer of hope. 

“Barlow is dead,” he adds, his tone flat as if the words alone could bury the pain. “Violet hit him with a lightning strike.” 

“She’s a…” I begin, my mind racing to catch up with the implications of his revelation.

“Lightning Wielder,” Desa interjects, her voice crisp and clear, like the crack of thunder that accompanies such a powerful force. I turn to seek confirmation from her, but my gaze drifts to Dain instead. He stands there, holding Violet as she retches, the color draining from her face. His arms cradle her protectively, but I can’t help the pang of jealousy that tightens around my heart. I know Xaden sees my reaction; I can feel the hurt settling in my chest like a weight I can’t shake, and when he mutters something about handling it, he strides over to them, leaving me in a tempest of conflicting emotions.

Violet Sorrengail is no longer just the girl with the most powerful dragon; she is now the first Lightning Wielder in over a century. 

Everyone will choose her in the end.

Xaden has no choice but to prioritize her life, while Dain has known her—loved her—longer than he’s known me. It’s a bitter truth that gnaws at me. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about the new Violet, it’s that friendships mean nothing to her now.

And I won’t let her ruin the few I have left.

The last month has been strange, an unsettling tapestry woven with uncertainty and fleeting connections. I left the channel between Xaden and me open, an invisible thread hanging in the air, and to my surprise, he reached out through it. His voice, a mixture of warmth and urgency, always aims to remind me that he’s not tangled in Violet’s allure—that his focus remains solely on her training, nothing more. 

With every interaction, I feel the strain of my friendship with Dain stretching thin. After the chaos of War Games, the emotional toll began to weigh heavily on me; it felt as if we were teetering on a precipice, and I found myself instinctively pulling away, seeking the safety of distance.

Today, is Reunification Day, a day celebrated fervently by the Navarreans, yet for me, it carries the weight of memories I would rather forget. 

Last year, Melgran demanded my presence at the festivities—his call an unwelcome reminder that even amidst celebration, shadows linger. The very dragon that charred my father was a constant specter of pain, and now, Professor Devera’s words haunt me: the King himself requested my attendance. I feel trapped in a web of duty and expectation, ensnared by a title that once felt like a privilege but now burns like a brand on my soul.

As I stand beneath the opulent canopy of the main college courtyard, the murmurs of the gathered cadets swirl around me. My gaze sweeps over the crowd, landing on Dain, who, with a smile that could melt glaciers, now seems lost in conversation with Violet and Liam. Their ease is a stark contrast to my simmering irritation, especially with Liam’s presence here—whether by choice or coercion, it feels like an intrusion into my fragile equilibrium.

“Miss Tavis,” the king begins, his tone deceptively casual.

“Cadet Tavis, your majesty.” I correct him politely, the words flowing with practiced grace as I bow to him. “I am a rider after all.” 

He nods before speaking, “Oh, of course,” he replies, his voice steady but warm. “I hear you bonded your mother’s dragon your first year. Eden was always one of my most trusted leaders.” The name reverberates in my mind, a bittersweet echo of a time when I was sheltered by her fierce presence.

“She was greatly appreciated anywhere we went,” I add, my tone imbued with solidarity. As I speak, I envision the countless lives she touched, the battles she fought, and the sacrifices she made. 

King Tauri's expression softens, the corners of his mouth curving into a nostalgic smile before his gaze turns somber. “I was sorry to hear about her passing. I tried to reach your father, offer refuge to the two of you at that time. I wish I had gotten to you sooner.” His eyes, filled with an earnest longing, dart pointedly toward my relic, a tangible reminder of the lineage I carry.

“My father made mistakes,” I reply, my voice steady despite the turmoil roiling inside me, “but I’d never say taking me home when we needed family the most was a mistake. Just in the wrong place, at the wrong time scenario.” I smile through the comment, though the ache of that moment lingers still.

“Appear sympathetic with Navarre. Stay alive,” Xaden's words flash through my mind, a mantra etched into the fabric of my being. I have rehearsed this dance before, the delicate balance of allegiance and survival.

“Of course,” the king nods along, his approval palpable, before continuing, “You know, Halden speaks highly of you in his letters.” 

“Oh?” My eyebrows arch in surprise. What is Halden Tauri doing talking about me? “I’m afraid I haven’t seen much of the Prince since our run in during an RSC class with his quadrant.”

“Yes, well my son has taken very seriously to his studies in his last year.” 

I stifle a laugh; even I know Halden’s not passing because he studied. 

“In fact, I wanted to speak with you regarding a conversation your parents and I once had,” he continues, his voice shifting to a more formal tone, “and with how influential you’ve become with your bonded dragon, I think our previously discussed proposal would be beneficial.” 

Proposal? My heart quickens, confusion swirling as I grasp for clarity in the midst of this unexpected conversation. 

“My son will need a queen of your standing. A bonded rider born of a loyalist and a traitor. You’d be very beneficial to keeping the separatists' kids loyal."

What.

The.

Fuck.

“Uhm,” I stutter, the words tumbling out as I grapple with the weight of the king’s proposition, my mind swirling in a tempest of disbelief. “I’m sorry, could you excuse me, Your Majesty? I just remembered that–I forgot about my parole around the dorms. Responsibilities of being leadership.” I attempt to infuse my voice with a lighthearted tone, forcing a laugh that feels brittle against the rising bile in my throat.

“Of course. Think about my offer, though.” King Tauri's voice is steady, tinged with an urgency that curls around my senses. He inclines his head slightly, an unyielding reminder of the authority he wields. “It won’t go into effect until you graduate, of course, but I’ll need a response before then.”

“Of course, enjoy your night,” I manage to reply, my tone polished and formal as I execute a curtsy, the gesture hollow as I turn away. As I step back into the hall, I nearly sprint away, each footfall quickening until I’m out of sight, the weight of the encounter pressing down upon me like a heavy shroud.

I find refuge by the parapet, the cool breeze wrapping around me as I draw in staggered breaths, each inhalation an attempt to reclaim my composure. My fingers clutch the stone wall, grounding me as I stare into the depths of the sprawling landscape below, illuminated by the glow of the moonlight. The castle stands tall behind me, a fortress that suddenly feels like a gilded cage. Although the king’s words linger without a clear threat, I can't shake the feeling that they carry the weight of an ultimatum. A responsibility I never sought now clings to me, its presence suffocating.

I step onto the narrow bridge, the ancient stones cool beneath my soles as I make my way down, seeking solitude away from the chaos of the evening. But just as I step from the safety of the walls, I freeze, a voice cutting through the stillness like a knife.

“Wren?”

“Sorry, I didn’t realize anyone was out here,” I reply quickly, my heart racing as I reach for the skirts of my dress uniform. 

“It’s alright. Just wanted to get away from everyone,” Xaden sighs, his eyes locked onto me from where he sits, an unwavering anchor amid the swirling tempest of my thoughts.

“I’ll let you be then,” I start to turn, but his voice halts me.

“It’s okay,” he reassures, warmth threading through his tone, laced with promise. He pats the space beside him, an invitation wrapped in kindness. “Have a seat. I won’t talk if it’ll make you feel better.”

Reluctantly, I agree, settling beside him, noting the comfort of this shared silence. I remember all too well finding him in this very position last year, a quiet refuge that speaks volumes without words. 

“You look good in the dress uniforms,” he offers after a beat of silence, his gaze softening as I get myself situated, my legs and skirt hanging off the side, a small balm against the storm raging within me.

“I thought you weren’t going to talk?” I say teasing him. Xaden chuckles softly, a warm sound that mingles with the gentle rustle of the night breeze, before he turns his gaze back to the expansive sky. 

The stars above shimmer, illuminating the darkness with a flickering brilliance, and for a moment, it feels as though time stands still. It’s not an awkward silence that envelops us; rather, it’s a comfortable stillness.

As I gaze into the depths of the cosmos, thoughts swirl in my mind, heavy and tumultuous. I don’t know why I choose this moment to share my burdens, but the words spill out, unfiltered. “King Tauri wants me to marry Halden after I graduate.” 

“What?” His voice is a mix of surprise and concern, drawing my attention back to him, where the moonlight casts gentle highlights across his features.

“Apparently having a marked one who had one loyal parent and one traitor parent makes me more influential in keeping the others loyal,” I explain, my voice tinged with incredulity. A sigh escapes my lips, a release of pent-up anxiety. “Apparently, he and my parents had discussed this arrangement before my mother died. The apostasy just made him want it more.”

“Fuck, Wren.” Xaden’s sigh is heavy with sympathy. Then, a laugh escapes him, lightening the moment. “We break up, and you manage to snag a prince instead of the duke who lost his title.”

“I like the duke more anyways,” I admit, the words slipping out easily, buoyed by the comfort of our shared space. 

“Do you still think about them?” Xaden asks, his tone shifting, probing gently into my guarded heart.

“Not my father as much, but Desa makes it hard to not think of my mother,” I answer, my gaze fixed on the vast tapestry of stars above, lost in memories.

“They’d be proud of who you’ve become,” he says, his gaze intent, pinning me down with a sincerity that stirs something deep within. It’s as if I can hear their voices echoing in his words, a haunting and beautiful affirmation.

“I know,” I nod, feeling the weight of his watchful eyes. “I missed you,” I confess, inching closer, the distance between us shrinking beneath the moonlight’s tender glow. 

I shouldn’t be this close to him, I remind myself, but the way he looks at me, the warmth emanating from his presence, makes it all too tempting. At this moment, I wish I could forget everything that has happened. 

“I’m sorry I hurt you, Wren,” he murmured, his voice barely rising above a whisper, an echo of regret that pierced through the armor I’d built around my heart. 

“Do you regret it?” I asked, daring to tread into dangerous waters. The stillness of the night wrapped around us, holding its breath as I waited for his answer.

“I can’t change what happened,” he replied, a shadow passing over his features, but something flickered in his gaze, a spark of hope woven into the fabric of our conversation. “But I wish I could take back the hurt. You deserve so much more.”

“More?” The word slipped from my lips like a silken thread, igniting the space between us. “What do you think I deserve?”

Xaden's breath hitched, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know if I can give you everything you deserve, Wren, but I would do anything for that chance.”

His sincerity washed over me like the gentle caress of a warm breeze, soothing and invigorating all at once. In that moment, everything felt possible, as though the shadows of our past were mere specters, dissipating beneath the brilliance of a newfound resolve. I had come here seeking solace, and instead, I found the undeniable urge to bridge the chasm that had formed between us.

And before I knew what was happening, I was gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, feeling the heat radiating from his body. The world around us blurred into a soft haze, and I pressed my lips to his, igniting a fire that had long been smoldering beneath the surface. His initial hesitance melted away, and I could taste the sweetness of his surprise, the warmth of his acceptance as he began to kiss me back. But as quickly as it had started, it ended. I pulled away, standing tall as the weight of reality settled upon my shoulders once more. 

“I want to talk,” I declared, determination lacing my words. I gather the skirts, standing on the narrow path. “I can’t promise we can fix it,” I continued, the truth heavy on my tongue, “but I do miss my best friend.” The words hung in the air like a fragile truce, offering us a pathway back to each other, a bridge across the troubled waters between us.

His expression shifted, a mix of surprise and relief flooding his features as he stood, still in shock yet undeniably present in this moment. “I miss you too,” he said, the fervor in his voice igniting a flicker of hope deep within me.

“Meet me in my room in an hour,” I instructed, firm and clear. “Don’t be late.” 

And with that, I turned, my heart racing as I walked off the parapet, each step echoing with the promise of what lay ahead. The anticipation of our conversation thrummed in the air, a symphony of possibility weaving through the threads of the night, as I headed toward the unknown that awaited me.

“He’s not coming.” My voice trembles slightly as I pace the length of my room, the familiar rhythm of my footsteps echoing against the walls, a nervous symphony to accompany the chaos swirling in my mind. 

“He still has ten minutes,” Desa chimes in, her tone steady and reassuring, cutting through the anxiety that claws at my chest.

“Why did I invite him here? Am I insane?” The thought feels like a thunderclap, a jarring realization that sends my heart racing, each beat a reminder of the stakes involved.

“Maybe—” 

“Desa!” I snap, irritation flaring as I struggle against the rising tide of uncertainty.

“Don’t ask stupid questions,” she shoots back, but the urgency in her voice does little to quell the tempest brewing inside me.

“Well, I—” Just then, a knock resonates through the quiet of my room, a sharp sound that makes my pulse quicken. “It’s not real,” I murmur, barely able to comprehend the notion that he might actually be here.

“Open the door,” she presses, her voice laced with an expectation that feels both foreign and exhilarating.

“Wren?” His voice, low and familiar, cuts through the air like a warm breeze, sending a shiver down my spine. 

Holy. Fucking. Shit. 

“I know I’m early. I figured we—” I pull the door open, revealing him in the soft glow of the hallway light. His presence is magnetic, drawing me in with an intensity that makes it hard to breathe. “Hey,” he says softly, a hint of uncertainty flickering in his eyes.

“Hi.” The word escapes my lips in a breathy whisper, and I open the door wider, urging him to step inside. But he hesitates, lingering in the doorway. “Are you going to stand in the hall all night?”

Xaden chuckles, a sound that warms the air around us. “You have to pull me through, remember?”

“Right! Sorry.” I reach for his hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, a spark that ignites a fire within me. I wasn’t supposed to touch him until we talked; I knew that, yet the intoxicating scent of his body wash wraps around me like a familiar embrace, making it hard to focus on anything but the heat coursing between us. 

“Kiss me,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper, as I push the door closed, sealing us in this moment of vulnerability. 

“We should talk, Wren,” he replies, his tone steady, but I can feel the tension crackling in the air.

“Xaden, I want to, I really do,” I confess, urgency clawing at my chest as I push him back against the door. “But I feel like I’m losing control and I fucking need you.” 

“Dain can’t take care of you?” The words hit me like a cold splash of water, and I instinctively back away from him, retreating into the emotional wall I’ve built around myself.

“Don’t do that,” I say, dropping onto my bed, the weight of his question crashing down like an anchor.

“Wren, I didn’t mean it like that—”

“No,” I whisper fiercely, tears brimming in my eyes. “No, you did. And that’s the problem.” As I blink back the moisture threatening to spill, I feel the truth of my words clawing its way out. “I ran out on Dain because every time he touched me, I wished it was you.” His mouth opens in surprise, but no sound comes forth. “He… I just… I need to feel like I have control over my life again.” I stood there, my heart pounding in my chest, the weight of our unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

Xaden’s presence loomed large, an anchor in my tumultuous sea of feelings. He took a careful step towards me, his brow furrowed with concern, and for a moment, time itself seemed to pause.

“I don’t want to use you, Xaden,” I said quietly, my voice trembling as it broke the tension. My heart ached, the rawness of my admission spilling out like a confession in the dark. “But I need you to be the one who puts me back together.”

His gaze softened, an understanding shining in the depths of his eyes. “I want that too,” he replied, his tone almost a whisper, as though he feared shattering the fragile moment we shared. “But not when you're this broken.” 

And just like that, the dam I had so carefully constructed crumbled, giving way to a torrent of silent, shaking sobs. My body shook with the weight of all I had been holding inside. Xaden moved closer, enveloping me in his arms, and the warmth of his embrace wrapped around me like a cocoon, comforting yet suffocating. 

“You have to put yourself back together, Little Bird,” he murmured, his voice a gentle balm against the chaos within. “I can’t do it for you.” His lips pressed to my temple, a soft gesture that felt like a prayer. I felt a flicker of hope ignite within me, battling against the shadows that had been looming for far too long. “And I’ll gladly sit by your side while you do it,” he promised, the sincerity of his words resonating deep within my soul.

I nodded, a small movement that felt monumental against the tide of despair. Leaning into his hold, I allowed myself to surrender to the moment, if only for a fleeting heartbeat. For just a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Xaden held me close, his presence steadying, as he hummed a lullaby—a haunting melody that wrapped around us like a shield against the world outside.

As my eyelids grew heavy, the soothing rhythm of his voice lulled me into a gentle slumber. My thoughts began to blur, merging with the soft cadence of the lullaby, and I drifted off…

Then I’m back in Dain’s room, the familiar chaos of maps and notebooks strewn about, each one a testament to the meticulous planning and strategizing that characterized the night before War Games. The air is thick with tension, the kind that wraps around me like a heavy cloak. 

I start to rise from the edge of the bed, intent on finding some semblance of rest before the day ahead. But before I can move too far, Dain steps in front of me, his presence blocking my path with an intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. 

His hands reach up, cradling my face with a possessive gentleness, his thumbs grazing over my cheekbones as if trying to anchor me to this moment. “Wren,” he murmurs, his voice low and steady, eyes searching mine with an intensity that feels both intimate and suffocating. “Stay.” The tenderness of his touch should have brought comfort, but instead, it feels wrong—like a well-rehearsed performance, carefully crafted but lacking authenticity. 

“I think I should go.” I turn my head, trying to break free from his grasp, but his hold remains unyielding, fingers pressing into my skin with a stubbornness that betrays his desperation. 

“No,” he insists, his voice softening, a coaxing lilt that feels almost manipulative. “You don’t have to run from this. From me.” 

“Dain, I said—” 

He leans in, closing the distance between us, and his lips find mine with a ferocity that leaves no room for hesitation. This kiss is not gentle—it's hungry, possessive, as though he’s trying to imprint his presence onto me, to convince me of something that hangs heavy and unspoken between us. I freeze, shock jolting through my body before instinct kicks in, and I push him away, harder than I intended.

“What the hell?” I snap, my breath coming in sharp gasps, the pulse of my heart echoing in my ears.

His expression darkens, shifting in a way that reveals an unfamiliar side of him, one flickering with jealousy and frustration. “You’re still caught up on him, aren’t you?” 

“This has nothing to do with Xaden,” I retort, stepping back, my heart racing with indignation. “This is about me not wanting this.”

“I’ve been patient,” he states, his tone morphing into something colder, more calculated. “I’ve backed off every time you needed space. But don’t forget who vouched for you when no one else would. Who still does.”

My blood runs cold at his implication. “Are you threatening me?”

“I’m reminding you,” Dain replies carefully, as if choosing his words with the precision of a blade, “that leadership has eyes. That reputations… especially yours, are fragile things.”

“You wouldn’t,” I whisper, my voice trembling—not from fear, but from fury that courses through me like wildfire.

He took a slow, deliberate step toward me, the air crackling with tension, his arms loose at his sides, yet his posture screamed control. It was as if he was a predator sizing up his prey, and I was caught in his crosshairs. “You already walk a fine line, Wren,” he began, his voice smooth, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “Bonded to a Loyalist dragon, with a traitor’s last name—a relic. The wrong whisper, the wrong report, and suddenly you’re no longer just ‘difficult.’ You’re dangerous.”

I felt bile rise in my throat as his words settled over me like a heavy shroud. “You’re disgusting,” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as I instinctively backed toward the door, every instinct screaming for escape. “You think I owe you something because you smiled at me when no one else did?” 

He didn’t respond, his silence a chilling affirmation of his intentions. When my fingers reached for the door handle, I felt his hands push me firmly against the wood, the force of his presence looming over me. “After everything I’ve done for you, this is how you repay me?” His voice dripped with a mixture of anger and betrayal.

Fury ignited within me, and I pushed back against him, my hand deftly pulling out my dagger and pointing it at his throat before he could close the distance again. “Touch me again and I’ll find myself Squad Leader by the games tomorrow,” I threatened, my voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging inside me, fingers tightening around the hilt of my weapon.

He didn’t need to respond; his eyes held a mix of surprise and anger as I yanked the door open, stepping into the hallway. The air outside was like ice against my skin, a sharp contrast to the heated confrontation I had just escaped. My boots echoed against the stone floor, each step a desperate beat as I walked faster—then broke into a run.

“Wrenley!” Xaden’s voice broke through the nightmare, slicing through the remnants of my fear. I met his concerned gaze, the intensity in his eyes grounding me in the moment. “Is that what happened?” 

“What?” I stammered, still shaken.

“You didn’t think thoughts and communication were the only things you could send, did you?” 

“You saw…” I trailed off, the memory flooding back with visceral clarity.

“What he fucking did?” Xaden growled, springing from the bed. “I’m going to kill him.” 

“Xay—” I started, desperation clawing at my throat, but a pounding at my door cut me off. Please don’t be Dain. 

“Wren?” Garrick’s voice came through, worry lacing his tone. 

“Gare?” I swung the door open, relief washing over me momentarily as my cousin stood before me. His eyes flicked from my tear-streaked face to Xaden, the tension in the air shifting. I could almost see his blood boil, rage simmering just beneath the surface as he tried to enter my warded room and failed. 

“What the fuck did you do, Riorson?” he growled, the anger in his voice deepening the weight of the moment.

“Believe me, Garrick. This,” Xaden gestures toward me with a fierce intensity, “is not on me this time.”

I spin to face Xaden, my heart racing as I murmur through the channel, “Do not tell him.” The urgency of the situation is a weight pressing down on my chest, the cold metal of my dagger a reminder of the confrontation that still lingers in my mind.

Garrick runs a frustrated hand through his hair, the worry etched on his features evident as he groans, “We don’t have time for this.” His voice is taut, each word laced with the urgency of the moment. “We’re being called in for a full quadrant formation.”

“At this hour?” Xaden questions, his brow furrowing, concern flickering in his eyes like a flame caught in a gust of wind.

“We’re under attack.” The gravity of those words sends a shiver down my spine, igniting a spark of adrenaline that buzzes beneath my skin.

Without hesitation, Xaden turns to my armoire, the wooden doors creaking softly as he flings them open. He rummages through my belongings with a sense of urgency, pulling out my flight leathers, the smell of leather and oil mingling in the air as I quickly change. Garrick darts off, presumably to gather the others, leaving me alone with the storm brewing in Xaden's gaze.

“Where the fuck is your flight jacket?” he growls, his voice low and demanding as he digs through the chaos of my armoire.

“Fuck, I must’ve left it in Dain’s room,” I groan, the realization crashing over me like a wave of dread. Slipping my boots back on, I steel myself, ready to take action. “I’ll just go—”

“Absolutely not.” His voice cuts through the air, sharp and uncompromising as he rips his own flight jacket off, wrapping it around me with a swift motion. “I’ll go grab my extra one. You are not to be alone with Dain again, understand me?” 

“I can handle myself,” I protest, though my heart races, a mix of determination and fear coursing through me.

“My fuck-up is what got you in that situation, Wren.” Xaden’s grip tightens on my shoulders, his gaze earnest and unyielding, conveying the weight of his concern. “I’ll be damned if it happens again. Please.” With a nod of agreement, I feel the tension start to ease, if only slightly. “Alright, you head on down. I’ll be there in a minute.” The words hang in the air, a promise wrapped in urgency, as we brace ourselves for the unknown that lies ahead.

I make my way to the formation, the cool night air wrapping around me like a shroud. The courtyard is alive with activity, the energy palpable as squad leaders return to their ranks, their expressions a mix of determination and tension. Just as I reach our designated spot, Dain’s eyes lock onto mine, a predator’s gaze that sends a shiver down my spine. I instinctively shift to stand closer to our quad, creating a buffer of distance between us, hoping to diminish the weight of his presence.

“Why are you wearing Riorson’s flight jacket?” Imogen's voice cuts through the air behind me, teasing yet curious. I can feel the warmth of embarrassment creeping into my cheeks.

“I lost mine,” I mumble, avoiding her scrutinizing gaze, desperate for her to let the topic drop. But as I glance at Violet, her head snaps in my direction, a sly glint in her eye as she zeroes in on the unmistakable markers on the jacket.

“Bullshit,” Imogen laughs, the sound bright and infectious despite the tension. “You can admit that you two were fucking.” She gives me a playful nudge with her elbow, and I groan at her jest.

“Nothing happened. We talked, Garrick came to get us for this, and I realized my jacket was missing. That's it,” I protest, but the words feel weak against the teasing atmosphere.

Commandant Panchek strides onto the dais, exuding authority, followed closely by Colonel Aetos and the wingleaders, who flank him like sentinels. Xaden, clad in his spare jacket, stands with a fierce intensity, his eyes searing into Dain, an unspoken challenge hanging between them.

“Leave him alone until this is over,” I tell Xaden, my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me. He turns his gaze from Dain to me, his expression softening, revealing a glimpse of the concern beneath his hardened exterior.

“Third years might get sent out if it’s bad enough,” he replies, a hint of gravity underscoring his words. My heart sinks at the implication.

“You’re leaving?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Maybe. Though I’m sure Sgaeyl will drag me back soon enough,” he reassures me, though the tension in the air suggests otherwise. Nyra leans in to whisper something to Xaden, and his voice cuts through the tension again, filled with annoyance. “Fucking War Games.”

“This is for War Games?” I ask, incredulity flaring inside me. 

“Think I can get away with stabbing Aetos? I’m sure this was his idea,” Xaden jokes, laughter bubbling just beneath the surface as I stifle my own.

“I’d pay good money to see that,” I reply, caught up in the moment, 

"Don't tempt me, Little Bird," and he winks at me from the dais, igniting a spark deep inside me as Panchek begins to speak.

“Riders Quadrant!” Panchek’s commanding voice booms across the courtyard, reverberating against the stone walls and cutting through the murmur of anxious chatter. As the gathered cadets straighten, the air crackles with anticipation and trepidation. “Welcome to the last event of this year’s War Games.” The atmosphere shifts, excitement mingling with the weight of what’s to come. “The alert that was sounded is similar to what it would have been if this were a real-life attack—to see how fast you would muster—and we will continue this exercise as if it is.” A chill runs down my spine at his words, a visceral reminder of the stakes involved. “Were the borders to be simultaneously attacked, and the wards faltering, you would all be called into service to reinforce the wings. Colonel Aetos, would you do us the honor of reading the scenario?”

With a fluid motion, Dain’s father steps forward, scroll unfurling in his hands, and begins to read aloud. His voice carries the weight of grim reality. “The moment we’ve dreaded has arrived. The wards we’ve dedicated our lives to upholding are falling, and there has been an unprecedented, multilevel attack along our borders, putting villages under siege from drifts of gryphon riders.” The imagery he conjures is stark, igniting fears of chaos and destruction. “Mass casualties among civilians and infantry are already being reported, as are the deaths of multiple riders.”

The crowd’s collective breath hitches, faces paling under the gravity of the scenario. “As we would if you were a battle-ready force, we are sending your wings in every direction,” he continues, his gaze honing in on each wing. When he reaches ours, my heart thunders in my chest. “Fourth Wing to the southeast. Each squad will pick which outpost they will reinforce within that region. Choices are first come, first served. Wingleaders, however, will be assigned to theirs for the purposes of determining a headquarters for this exercise.” 

Colonel Aetos pauses, the silence stretching taut before he turns to the wingleaders, issuing rapid-fire orders. But his gaze flickers toward Dain, and I can feel the tension build. Then, he looks at Xaden, his smile slipping for just a heartbeat, a fleeting moment that sends a shiver coursing through me. “Riorson, you’ll establish your headquarters for Fourth Wing at Athebyne.” 

A wave of unease washes over me. That’s outside the wards. They never send cadets that far. 

The tension in the air hangs thick, a palpable force swirling around us like an impending storm. As Colonel Aetos steps back, the echoes of his orders fade into the background, replaced by the frantic heartbeat of anticipation thrumming in my chest. Xaden’s command cuts through the fog of uncertainty, a lifeline amidst the chaos. 

“You’re coming with me.” His voice is authoritative, carrying the weight of unyielding resolve, as he locks eyes with me. There’s an urgency in his expression that I can’t ignore, a fierce intensity that sends a shiver down my spine. “And wear every dagger you own.” 

My heart races, confusion twisting in my gut. I want to ask why, to demand clarity, but before I can voice my questions, Dain’s presence draws my attention. He’s facing us now, his demeanor resolute as he turns to address the squad. “We’re going to claim the outpost at Eltuval, the northernmost one in our assigned region,” he declares, and I can feel the gravity of his decision settle over us like a cloak. “I’m not getting stuck at some coastal outpost when we know that’s not how Poromiel would choose to attack. Anyone have a problem with that?”

We all shake our heads. 

“Good, then you heard the commandant. You have thirty minutes to change, pack what you can carry for five days, and get your asses to the flight field.” Dain’s voice is firm, cutting through the chaos with clarity. I turn to leave, adrenaline igniting my senses, when Dain’s grip on my arm halts me.

“Wren—” 

“Get your hands off her, squad leader,” Xaden growls, striding toward us like a storm rolling in. His presence is electric, igniting a spark of defiance within me, and I feel a rush of gratitude for his protective instincts.

“What’s going on?” Dain questions, his grip reluctantly releasing my arm. The tension crackles between them, a silent battle of wills, but Xaden’s glare is a shield, fierce and unwavering.

“Leave her alone, Aetos. I’m warning you.” Xaden’s voice is low, a rumble of thunder that demands obedience. He guides me away from the confrontation, a firm hand at my back that ignites an unexpected warmth in my chest. “Before you freak out, I’m also bringing Violet on our team.”

“What?” The surprise spills out before I can think better of it. But as I look into Xaden’s eyes, I see the truth etched in his expression. He’s made his decision, and I can’t argue with the conviction behind it. 

“I can’t trust Aetos to prioritize her life. And Sgaeyl demands Tairn come with. That’s it.” 

His gaze holds mine, a steady flame against the encroaching darkness, and I feel the weight of his words settle over me. There’s a fierceness in him that assures me he’ll do everything in his power to protect us, a promise woven into the very fabric of his being.

“Okay.”

“Good.” He sighs. “Now go pack, meet me on the flight field,” he says, his voice a low murmur that sends a thrill through me. The world around us fades into a blur as I nod, swallowing the whirlwind of emotions within me as I turn to return to the dorms. 

next part

Everything Taglist: @lxnvmvrzx @bodhidurrans @bookwormysblog @nikfigueiredo

Chasing Shadows Taglist: @hiraethjules @fangirling-galore @sande5098 @javden @littlepippilongstocking @what-will-be-your-verse @xadenstyles @daisydark @messageforthesmallestman @taleiaargenis

[pookalicious-hq]

Midnight Love - Prologue.

Paige Bueckers x Uconnwbb!Reader

next: 1 - See you again. || masterlist

Anyone would have sold their soul to be (Y/n) (L/n) in 2020.

Her senior year of high school, (Y/n) led her team to their first State Championship in over a decade. The whistle blew at the end of double overtime, and she walked off the court with a triple-double, along with her career-high of 41 points. 

But looking at the scoreboard, she was two points behind, one shot behind, and in second place. 

(Y/n) wouldn’t settle for less than first place in anything. 

It's not that she was competitive, just that she had so much to prove, that which came second hand with always getting first place.

The day after their loss, (Y/n) was listed behind Paige Bueckers in second place among the class of 2020 high school recruits. 

_______________________________

ESPN - May 5th, 2023

The recent news of (Y/n) (L/n)'s decision to enter the transfer portal in the NCAA women's basketball has sent shockwaves through the sports community. (L/n), a standout student-athlete, captured the hearts of fans nationwide with her remarkable performance in last season's March Madness. Despite her exceptional talent and single-handed efforts, her team fell short in the Elite Eight against UConn Women's Basketball, marking a bitter end to their journey. Now, with (L/n) poised to switch schools, anticipation mounts as enthusiasts eagerly await her next move, wondering how her departure will reshape the landscape of collegiate basketball.

_______________________________

The concrete beneath her soles wouldn’t give her a break. The endless scraping and crunching was enough to drive (Y/n) mad. 

This situation wasn’t the best. As of now, her junior year is over. Currently, she has no home court, except for the one in the alley behind her house. 

Who would’ve thought she would end up like this?

This off-season surpassed her last as the worst time of her life. But that’s being dramatic, (Y/n) had been through things much more trivial than playing basketball on a double-rimmed-no-net alley-way hoop. I mean, at least she hasn’t torn her ACL again (don’t worry, that isn’t foreshadowing).

At this moment, everyone was wondering: where the fuck is (Y/n) (L/n) going to play for her senior year? But (Y/n) wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing.

It was an interesting choice, and to be completely honest, no one saw it coming. 

She wanted greatness. To win was to be the best. She would be the best.

But to do that, (Y/n) would have to play alongside the best.

In this day and age “the best” had been a person. Paige Bueckers. Her high school career had to be one of the most impressive of her time. Unfortunately for her injury, Paige wasn’t currently in the run for that title. Who better than (Y/n) to take it up for her on her team instead? Though it wouldn’t turn out that way, (Y/n) would at least fight for it.

--------- 

ESPN : (Y/n) (L/n) Makes a Power Move: Joins UConn Huskies

In a stunning turn of events, (Y/n) (L/n), the dynamic force who propelled her team to the cusp of victory in last season's March Madness, has announced her decision to transfer to the renowned UConn Huskies for her senior year.

(L/n)'s electrifying performances on the court have long been the talk of the basketball world, showcasing a blend of skill, formidable defensive IQ, and raw talent that few can match. Despite her team's heartbreaking loss against UConn Women's Basketball in the Elite Eight, (L/n)'s star continued to rise, drawing admiration and attention from fans and pundits alike.

For (L/n), the decision to join UConn represents an opportunity to challenge herself at the highest level of collegiate competition and pursue her dreams of achieving greatness within the world of women's basketball. With the support of her teammates and coaching staff, she is ready to embrace the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead in her senior year.

As the countdown to the upcoming season begins, all eyes will be on (L/n) and her UConn teammates as they aim to solidify their place as one of the most dominant forces in women's college basketball. With (L/n)'s addition to the lineup, the future looks brighter than ever for the UConn Huskies, and fans eagerly await the electrifying moments that lie ahead on the court.

a/n: Okay so that's sorta like a prologue to this fic. So originally, I wrote this with my oc, but i feel like it would come across better on here as an reader insert so yeah. Yes the title is named after the mitski song and yes that does mean I will add some poc elements to this fic. Doesn't mean if you aren't a poc you won't relate to as many things but like yeah im making paige and readers relationship inspired from that song.

ANYWAYS I HOPE YOU LIKE IT lmk if you have any suggestions like plot wise or writing wise its been a while...

[deanssluvr]

DOUBLE OR NOTHING

PAIRINGS: joost klein x fem!reader ,, ski aggu x fem!reader ,, joost klein x fem!reader x ski aggu

SUMMARY: two frat guys are betting on who can have you first, but why choose when you can have both of them.

WARNINGS: RPF. SMUT. threesome. aftercare. mentions of alcohol.

WORD COUNT: 6k

A/N: i hope you guys enjoy reading this because i loved writing it. not proofread. also fyi aggu’s real name is august for those might be confused when it’s brought up. <3

In the bustling heart of college campus life, two fraternity brothers, Joost and August, stood amidst the raucous energy of a late-night party. This event marked the last night before winter break started, a chance for everyone to get together before they all left campus. It was usually the biggest party of the year, and luckily this year Joost and Aggu were in charge of throwing it. Surprisingly setting up a party was easy since the frat house was almost cleared out. In only a few hours, the entire place was a chaotic mix of red cups, music blasting, and students weaving through a maze of people.

You arrived quite late at your friend's invitation. Now you had wished you had taken her offer for a ride, but your roommates had insisted on pregaming. Luckily it was the point of the night that they were letting in anyone because you left your invite with Sadie. As soon as you stepped inside, your roommates ditched you to find their friends, leaving you to yourself. It was more packed than you expected. The air felt heavy as smoke and sweat filled the room. The house was covered in multiple bright colored lights but soon settled on a dark blue. Now here you were trying to make your way through the large crowd looking for Sadie. It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. As you moved through the crowd, you tapped on a few shoulders thinking they were her. It was awkward every time you touched the wrong person. You gave up after a few minutes and made your way to the drink table.

On the other side of the room, Joost, with a cocky grin, turned to Aggu, who leaned casually against the wall.

"How about a bet?" Joost challenged a mischievous smirk on his face.

Aggu raised an eyebrow, his smirk matching Joost's. A chuckle left his lips. "Sure. Why not. What are we betting?"

Joost's grin widened. "Loser has to clean the entire house tomorrow. Alone."

Aggu’s eyes narrowed but he accepted. “Deal. So, who’s the catch?”

Joost’s eyes scanned the room, finally focusing on you as he watched you look around the drink table. He pointed in your direction. “First one to get with her wins. No sleazy moves, though. We’re talking genuine charm and conversation.”

Aggu nodded, sizing up the competition. "Sounds fair. May the best man win."

The air buzzed with anticipation as the two friends separated and made their way through the crowd of partygoers. Both were determined, but only one would walk away with the number and bragging rights for the semester. Little did they know someone had been listening to their whole conversation. Your friend Sadie quickly made her way across the room before either of them could reach you. Luckily both guys were stopped by what she assumed were friends, putting a brief pause in their plan. She caught you by surprise when she grabbed your arm and pulled you aside. You were a bit confused, but just happy to finally see your friend.

“You will never believe what I heard.” she was shaking with anticipation.

“Hello to you too.” you laughed. “What did you hear?”

“You know those two frat dudes in our math class? Joost and Aggu I believe are their names.” You nodded. They were both relatively popular on campus. Mostly for the parties they throw, but also because of the broken hearts they leave in their tracks. You’ve avoided them for that reason, not wanting to end up with the same fate as the other girls. But you could see why they fall for them so easily. They were both very attractive in their ways. Aggu was a gym rat so he was very buff and fit, but also very soft-spoken and kind despite what people like to believe. Though only you knew that because of the one time you both worked on a project together. On the other hand, Joost was a bit thinner but still very good-looking. He had fluffy blonde, almost white, hair and was littered with tattoos. He also had a cocky attitude to match.

“Well first off, both of them find you really pretty. Second, they made a bet to try and sleep with you.” She smiled at you as if she was proud to have given you this information. On any other occasion with any other guys, you would’ve been disgusted and repulsed at the thought of two guys betting for you. But you did like them and found them very attractive, so you decided to turn this around for yourself.

“Thanks for letting me know.” You smirked and looked around the room. Your eyes landed on them both as you spotted them with their friends.

“So who are you gonna pick? Personally, I couldn’t,” she admitted, pulling your attention back to her.

“I think I’m gonna take both.” You winked. You watched as her expression changed from confusion to surprise. She playfully hit your arm.

“You naughty girl.” she teased. You just shrugged innocently.

Aggu was the first to pry himself away from his friends. He wasn’t contributing much to the conversation anyway. Joost was too deep in said conversation to notice his absence. Sadie peered over your shoulder to see him walking your way.

“Incoming. Good luck.” She giggled and slipped away before you could say anything. Not even a minute later you felt a soft tap on your shoulder. You turned, realizing it was Aggu who was approaching you first. He had a warm, genuine smile on his face. You smiled in return.

“Hey.” He greeted, speaking loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Hey,” you responded as if you were surprised to see him.

“I’m glad you came. I don’t really get to see you outside of class.”

“I mean if you want to see me more, you could just ask.” You both laughed, but something about him seemed off. You turned to pour yourself a drink, but he gently grabbed your arm causing you to drop the ladle.

“I wouldn’t. Joost made it. He dumped whatever we had into that.” You scrunch your nose at it. “Here. Let me get you something else.”

He walked you over to the cooler and opened it revealing various alcoholic and soda beverages. He dug around in it for a moment before pulling out a particular can. He handed it to you.

“Still your favorite right?” What he handed you was your favorite soda. He only knew because you’ve given him one before. During your project, you both were pulling an all-nighter at your dorm. It was late and you both had decided to stop working and just talked. That was the night you learned more about him beyond what other people tell you. And as a nice gesture, you offered him a soda. That moment meant more to him than you’ll ever know.

You were shocked that he still remembered considering that was a year ago, but sweet nonetheless.

“Yeah, it is.” you smiled sheepishly. You opened it and took a sip. Though he was wearing those ski goggles, you could feel his stare. The brief silence soon became apparent as you became more aware of the music again. He leaned into you, his lips barely hovering over your ear.

“Can I take you somewhere quieter?” He asked and put some distance between you both once more. He looked over your face, waiting for an answer. You nodded and he softly grabbed your arm. As he guided you through the crowd, his hand slipped down so now he was holding your wrist. His fingers gently grazed against your palm, sending a slight tingling sensation up your arm. You were glad he was the one guiding you because the crowd seemed to be way more packed than when you first arrived. Your shoulders grazed against random partygoers, but all you could pay attention to was the small connection between you and him.

There was a brief moment where you passed a group of guys. If you hadn't been paying close attention to your surroundings, you wouldn’t have noticed Joost amongst those guys. You saw him share a glance with Aggu and then his eyes fell on you. He forced himself to smile rather than let you see his jealousy. You sent him a quick wave and he raised his cup a bit, waving back. Aggu led you down a hallway that seemed to be noticeably less crowded than the main floor. It was a bit awkward having to pass the people in this space. Most were either smoking or making out against the wall. A lot of them didn’t take notice of either of you as they seemed to be in their world. But those who did see you, glared at you as if you were the odd one. He stopped in front of a doorway and let you step inside. You looked around. The room was quite clean and cozy compared to the rest of the house. It was dim with only a small, warm lamp emitting light. In the middle was an old couch that clearly had been loved. You sat down, sinking into the soft fabric. The loud music outside became nothing more than a gentle hum as he closed the door behind him. He walked over and sat next to you. He watched as you continued to take in your surroundings. He leaned in, his voice soft.

“This is our second living room. No one uses it since it’s not close to the front of the house.” You hummed in response. Turning to look at him, you weren’t expecting him to be so close. You quickly became flustered under his gaze, so you picked up your drink and sipped it. If Joost wasn’t in the question you would give into Aggu right now.

“So how did you remember this?” You gesture to the drink in your hand. He shrugged.

“I try to remember everything about you. And since we don’t hang out, it’s not much.” He paused and thought about what he just said, letting out a small chuckle. “Sorry if that came off creepy.”

You reciprocated his laughter. “No, it's fine. I find it cute that you care about the small things. Not many guys do these days.” He smiled in response. The energy shifted between you. It was less tense and you felt more comfortable around him. And maybe it was how close you were to him, but you swear you felt the air become warmer. You leaned further back into the couch and felt his arm under you, lightly supporting your head. There was silence between you both, but it was a comfortable silence.

“Can I tell you something?” He asked. His voice was softer now.

“Of course.”

“That night in your dorm,” he looked away for a moment, avoiding your gaze. You make him nervous but he’d never tell you. “meant more to me than I'd like to admit.”

“Why? Because we had finally finished our project.” you were joking, but you could see he was serious.

“No. Because for the first time in a long time, it felt like you saw me. Like actually saw me. No front, no expectations. It was just... easy." you couldn’t say anything. You didn’t know what to say. He paused, looking for the right words. He still hasn’t looked back at you. "I guess what I’m trying to say is I like being around you. More than I thought I would. And it’s not just about finishing projects or hanging out because we’re supposed to. It’s more than that."

His honesty hung in the air between you, heavy and sincere. The noise of the party seemed to fade into the background, leaving just the two of you at this moment, the weight of his confession settling into your heart. You moved your hand under his chin and gently lifted it so he was looking at you. He leaned into your touch.

“I wish you had told me earlier because I feel the same way.” He smiled, a little nervous but relieved, as if a burden had been lifted. His hand hesitantly reached out, brushing against yours, a silent question in his touch. The softness in his voice, the way he looked at you. It was clear this wasn’t just another flirtation for him. This was real, and it meant something. Your hand moved to his cheek and your thumb rubbed gently into his skin. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you. Suddenly the door flung open. You both turn to see a guy frantically running into the room.

“Oh. Sorry. I just needed to tell you that something happened upstairs in your room. Some drunk dude and his girl broke your TV.” Aggu sighed and muttered something in German. He looked back at you with sympathetic eyes.

“It’s okay. Go. I needed another drink anyway.” You gave him a reassuring look before he got up to leave. You watched as he and the random guy walked out, and then you were left alone. The energy shifted again since he was gone. The room became noticeably colder and the music started to fade back into your ears. You decided to get up and head back to the main floor. You quickly walked through the awkward hallway as before, though the people didn’t mind you this time around. The music became louder as you made your way into the living room. The crowd didn’t seem any different than when you had stepped away. The idea of trying to find Sadie in this crowd again seemed pointless, so you made your way over to the drink table again. As you weave your way through the crowd, you wish Aggu was here to lead the way as he did earlier. You were bumping into far more people and even caused someone to spill their drink. But eventually, you made it.

Joost was still in the same conversation as earlier but wasn’t talking as much anymore. He was too upset with the idea of you and Aggu. He didn’t want to lose the bet when the night barely started. But he was losing hope with every minute you were spending with him. That all changed when he saw you walking up to the drink table. Alone. He watched as you dug through the cooler. Taking this as an opportunity, he walked up next to you and leaned on the table. You finally found what you were looking for and turned around, but immediately bumped into someone. Their drink fell to the ground.

“I am so sorry.” You looked up to find a familiar face. The worry dissipated and was quickly replaced with relief.

“It’s okay.” He reached down to pick up the now empty cup and tossed it in a nearby trash can. “It wasn’t that good anyways.”

“Didn’t you make it?” you asked.

“I mean yeah. But I never said it was good,” he said playfully, making you giggle. “You know you owe me now.”

You looked at him confused. “For what? Spilling your drink?” he nodded. “I mean I already apologized. What more do you want?”

“Dance with me.” you laughed. You assumed he was joking, but his face told you otherwise.

“Oh. You’re serious.” He nodded. You paused considering his offer. Just pouring him another drink was probably a safer choice, but this option seemed way more fun. “I’d love to.”

He reached his hand out, offering it to you. You hesitated for just a second, feeling a flutter of excitement in your chest, then slipped your hand into his. His grip was warm and steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel both safe and exhilarated. With a gentle tug, he guided you through the crowded room, weaving effortlessly between groups of people until you reached the pulsating heart of the dance floor. The music was loud in your ears, the bass thrumming through your veins as you stood within the crowd. The lights flickered above, casting the room in shades of blue and purple that washed over the swaying bodies around you. The energy of the room seemed to only intensify. The beat vibrated in your chest, making it impossible not to dance.

You started to dance, quickly letting the rhythm take control, your hips swaying to the music. The world around you seemed to blur with the people around you fading into the background as you lost yourself in the moment. Then, you felt Joost’s hands, firm yet gentle, slide around your waist. His touch sent a shiver up your spine, grounding you even as the music threatened to carry you away. He pulled you closer, his body aligning with yours, and suddenly it felt like it was only you both on the dance floor. His breath was warm against your ear as he leaned in, the scent of his cologne and faded cigarette smoke mixing with the electric atmosphere. The music pulsed around you, but all you could focus on was the way your bodies moved together, perfectly in sync with the rhythm.

The song changed to something more slow and sensual. And, as if on cue, the lights changed to a deep red causing a noticeable change in energy. Your hips moved to the new rhythm of the song. It was unfamiliar to you, but that didn’t matter. You felt his grip on you tighten as he pulled you closer against him. He dropped his head into the crook of your neck. Your scent was intoxicating and he bit his lip, blocking a groan that threatened to leave. You weren’t stupid, you could feel the tension between you. As well as his bulge pressing against your ass. So you knew it was time for the final step of your plan. You turned around so now you were facing him. He looked as though he was in a haze. His pupils were blown and his lips were parted. You closed the distance between you both only to move to his ear.

“We should go somewhere private.” your voice was hot in his ear and sent goosebumps across his skin. All he could do was nod in response. He led you out of the crowd and up some stairs. You stopped him.

“I want to freshen up a bit before we…” you lied. You just needed to go get Aggu before things got too heated. “Where can I meet you?”

He looked down the hall nearest to you and pointed. “The last room on the right.”

“Okay.” you nodded. “I won’t be long. I promise.”

You gave him a sincere smile and watched as he left. When he was out of your view, you turned and began walking down a hallway in the opposite direction. You were familiar with the layout of the house since most of the time this is where you and Aggu had worked on your project together.

This part of the house was surprisingly empty. Though the trash scattered about and the smell of smoke told a different story. You assumed they cleared the hallway after the incident in Aggu’s room. You continued down the hall until you heard voices. After turning a corner, you saw him. He was leaning against the wall talking to the other guy from earlier. You walked towards them and they were quick to see you. Probably because the clicking of your heels was the loudest sound in the hall. He smiled before turning to his friend to tell him something. You saw him nod and walk away.

“Hey.” he smiled as you walked up to him. “Sorry for taking so long.”

“It’s fine,” you reassured him. Your hands slipped into his and you placed them around your waist. He instinctively pulled you closer to him. “but I was getting bored without you. I want to continue where we left off.” you bit your lip hoping he’d get the hint.

“Oh. Oooh.” It’s like you could hear the gear moving in his head. He was a bit flustered at your eagerness. “Of course.”

“Okay meet me in the room at the end of the hallway across from here.” He looked at you confused. “I’ll meet you there. I just want to freshen up first.”

He nodded before leaving you for the requested destination. You quickly walked further up the hall to the nearest bathroom. It was quite small and the scent of cheap lavender was strong. In front of you was a little sink and a mirror that had multiple cracks in it. You had no time to find another bathroom, so you made do with this one. You rummaged through your purse for your perfume and deodorant to freshen yourself up with like. You also took this opportunity to touch up your makeup. Once you deemed yourself ready, you left the bathroom and headed to the room.

Anticipation built in your chest the closer you got. You were also a bit worried. Sure you were able to lure them in, but what if they don’t want to do this? Hopefully, you’ve played your cards right. As you approached the door, you could hear what sounded like bickering. As expected. They were both under the impression that they won the bet. You took a deep breath and opened the door. Immediately they both went silent as they saw you in the doorway. You hesitantly stepped inside, closing the door behind you.

“Finally. Please tell him that you came here for me.” Joost had his arms crossed over his chest, eyes glaring at Aggu who scoffed in response.

“We were just in the hallway together and she said she wanted me.” he looked at you for support. In fact, both of them did. “Go ahead tell him.”

“You’re both right.” Aggu looked at you in confusion and Joost seemed like he was trying to find the right word, but was coming up empty. “Look. I know about your bet.

Their demeanor changed and they looked defeated and embarrassed. Apologies started to pour from their mouths, but you raised your hand, silencing them.

“I’m not mad about it,” you reassured, which confused them even more.

“Wait. So then why are we here?” Joost asked. You set your bag down on the dresser next to you and walked closer to them, leaving little space between the three of you.

“I thought it’d be more fun if you both won the bet.” It took a minute for it to click. They were both silent for a moment. You could see the hesitation in both of their eyes. You almost thought that this wasn’t going to happen, but then Joost made the first move. He stepped up to you and held your face in his hands. He pulled you into him. The kiss was gentle, but only for a moment as it quickly became hungrier. His tongue swirled with yours, and you could taste the alcohol and faint cigarette smoke that lingered. Aggu, feeling left out, came behind you. His hands find their way to your hips and under the soft fabric of your shirt. The feeling of his cold fingers against your skin sent shivers across your skin. His lips were quick to attach to your collarbone where he kissed and sucked. He trailed up your neck and nipped at your sweet spot causing you to moan against Joost’s lips. The air around you became hot and the clothes on your body felt restraining. He was the first to pull back for air and you both looked at each other, panting. Aggu took this opportunity to lift your shirt over your head and throw it somewhere on the floor. You immediately caught Joost staring at your tits which caused you to bite back a giggle.

“Get on the bed for us.” Joost cooed. You nodded before walking over to the bed. Luckily whoever room this was had a decent comforter. It was soft and plush under you. You looked over at the boys who seemed to be held up in some sort of conversation. You sighed and took this opportunity to remove your pants, leaving yourself in just your bra and panties. You were glad you chose to wear a pretty set. It was black with lace and rose embroidery. It was one of your favorites. Finally, they walked over to you, removing their shirts as they did so. They stopped when they saw you. You watched as their eyes gazed over your body.

“Fuck she’s hot.” Joost blurted and Aggu quickly nodded in agreement. Aggu stood at the foot of the bed while Joost was at your side. You watched as he crawled onto the bed, stopping when he was between your legs. You bit your lip as he lowered his head closer to your clothed pussy. His warm breath against you was enough to pull a whimper from you.

“Someone’s needy.” Joost breathed in your ear. He brought his hand to your chin and pulled you into another kiss. His hand then dipped under your bra where he gently squeezed your breast. You moaned into his lips when you felt his cold fingers pinch your nipple. Aggu had already taken off your panties and delved his tongue into your folds. You had to pull yourself away from Joost to let out a loud moan. It was quite a sight when you looked down. He was relentless in the way he was eating you out. His hands were holding onto your thighs tightly, keeping you exactly where he wanted. Your attention was pulled back to Joost when he pressed his lips to your jaw and down your neck. He took your hand and placed it over his growing bulge. You got the message and started palming him through his pants. Even through the loud noises coming from you, you could still hear him groan against your neck.

You unbuckled his pants and pulled out his aching cock. There was precum already dripping from his tip. You swiped your tongue across your hand before firmly grabbing him at the base. You started jerking him slowly which pulled another groan from him. He was still pressing sloppy kisses into your neck and you were sure he was leaving marks at this point. You gasped as the other man pushed one of his fingers into you. Your head fell back against the headboard giving Joost more space to explore your neck. His breaths were quick and hot as you pumped your hand faster. Then Aggu slipped another finger in, pushing into you at a frantic speed. All of it was too much as you felt yourself rapidly approaching your release. Aggu could tell by the way you were clenching around his fingers, but he didn’t let up. You felt that familiar coil in your stomach snap as you came. Your knees tightened themselves around his head, but that didn’t stop him. He let you ride out your high on his tongue.

Once you calmed down, Aggu removed himself from between you. His face was wet with your juices. He climbed off of the bed and wiped his mouth as he did so. Joost moved from your side and took his place. Aggu didn’t sit next to you like the other man did. Instead, he stood there waiting. You were panting and still a bit dazed from your orgasm, but Joost’s voice grabbed your attention. He told you to get on your knees. Although your legs were slightly shaking, you got on your knees anyway. You turn to notice they’ve both taken off the last few articles of clothing they had on. Aggu climbed into the bed in front of you. The first thing that caught your eye was his thick cock which was only a few inches from your face. When you looked up at him, he had a smirk on his face causing you to become flustered. Your attention shifted as you felt a dip in the bed behind you.

”Look at that pretty pussy.” His hands came to squeeze your ass and pulled them apart to get a better look at your pussy. You were still wet with Aggu’s spit and your orgasm.

“I know right.” Aggu’s hand came to your chin, making you look up at him. “Tastes even better.”

Without warning you felt Joost swipe his tip along your folds. You moaned when he went over your sensitive clit. Remembering the man in front of you, you leaned down and licked up the base all the way to his tip. A low groan left his lips as you took in only his tip. Joost deemed his cock wet enough and slid into you slowly, allowing you to adjust to him. You moaned onto his cock, sending vibrations through him. The noise he made was a little more vocal than before. He grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed himself further into your mouth. Behind you, Joost had bottomed out. He pulled back out and pushed into you again. This time a little rougher. Then he started rutting his hips into you. Aggu, his hand still in your hair, was guiding you up and down on him at his own pace. You were a drooling mess all over him, but you were too lost in pleasure to care. He managed to find the right amount you could take before you started gagging.

Joost’s relentless thrusts into you were quick to bring you to the edge again. You couldn’t say anything with Aggu in your mouth, but you’d doubt you’d get a coherent sentence out anyway. Behind you, Joost brought his fingers to your sensitive clit. It only took a few strokes to bring you over the edge again. Tears rolled down your cheek and you lifted yourself off of Aggu to cry out in pleasure. Joost’s thrusts were messy and becoming out of rhythm. Then his hips stuttered and stopped as he came inside of you. You felt him fill you up and spill out as he pulled out. He leaned back watching his release drip from you and took a mental picture.

“She’s all yours.” he panted over his shoulder to the man in front of you. You felt his weight on the bed disappear, and look to see him walk into the bathroom that’s connected to the room.

“Come here.” Aggu brought your attention back to him as he gestured to his lap. You weakly crawled over to him and straddled him. He traced his hands up your back and unhooked your bra. He slid the piece of fabric off of you and tossed it somewhere. You felt the cold air of the room against your nipples, hardening them. His hands grabbed your waist and he lifted you up. He moved you so you were hovering over his cock. You sank down on him slowly. He cursed under his breath as he watched where you both connected. He filled you up completely and then some. His hand came up to your cheek where his thumb rubbed gently. You melted into his touch. He pulled you into a kiss. This was different from his counterpart. He was soft and sweet against your lips. His tongue slipped past your lips and danced with yours. You shifted slightly, thrusting him into you. He gripped your hips tightly, nails digging into the plush skin.

Even with his hands and lips all over you and having his cock buried deep inside you, you were still desperate to feel him more. You whimpered against his lips. He was quick to pick up on what you wanted, so he pulled away and placed his hands firmly on your hips, guiding you to lift yourself up and then back down. With his help, you were moving at a steady pace, but it still wasn’t good enough. You were tired but still trying to chase your release. He watches you try and fuck yourself on him and senses your struggle. Taking control again, he meets your movements with his own thrusts. The way he was drilling into you had you seeing stars. Broken moans and incoherent noises were all that could be heard. For the third time already you felt yourself getting closer. His hand dipped down to rub your clit.

“Go ahead. Cum for me.” he breathed. Those words went straight to your core and were enough to bring you over the edge again. You cried out his name as you rode out your final orgasm. Hearing you say his name like that brought him to his release soon after. His grip on you was tight as he spilled into you. You both just looked at each other panting. Then a smile came across both of your faces. You were about to speak before you heard the door to the bathroom open. Joost walked out with his eyes covered by his hand. When he didn’t hear anything he removed it and sighed in relief.

“Finally. I thought you’d never finish.” Aggu rolled his eyes and you giggled. You carefully got off of him, wincing at how sensitive you still were. You stood up, or at least tried to. Your legs were now jelly. Joost was quick to come around and help you before you fell.

“I just want to go to the bathroom.” he nodded and placed his arm around your waist to support you. You both carefully walked over to the bathroom. He let you go and you leaned against the sink while he went to ran a shower for you. Aggu walked in and leaned on the counter next to you. You watched through dazed eyes as he reached his hand out and ran his finger under your lip where your lipstick had smudged. You were trying to avoid the mirror behind you so you didn’t have to see how much of a mess you were right now.

“Do you mind if I join you?” you shook your head. You were relieved he asked.

“Me too?” Joost asked. He didn’t want to be left out and you could tell. You laughed tiredly.

“Of course.” He smiled as if he was proud of himself. He turned to feel the temperature of the water. It seemed warm enough, so he helped you up and into the shower. Aggu entered behind you for support. The warmth of the water felt amazing against your skin compared to the cold air of the bathroom. If you were being honest, you were worried they would try for another round in the shower. Luckily they were just there to help you. They both lent a hand in cleaning you up. They lathered up small towels with soap and rubbed them against your skin while placing soft kisses all over you. After finishing up you were the first to step out of the shower. Neatly folded on the counter was a white towel. You picked it up and dried yourself off. They finished up a few minutes after and you stepped back out into the room. The sudden change in temperature made you shiver. You quickly put your undergarments back on and laid down on the bed, not caring to put the rest on.

Your mind can’t help but start to wonder what this means for your relationship with them. Of course, you have feelings for them and it’s clear that they’re reciprocated. The problem was having to choose. You sighed and pulled the covers over yourself. You were too exhausted for these types of thoughts. Then you heard them come out of the bathroom. They were talking amongst themselves then went quiet when they saw you.

“Are you guys gonna go back to the party?” you asked as they both looked around the room for their clothes. You were nervous about their response. They had no reason to stay. They got what they wanted. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want them to stay with you. There was a brief silence as they shared a look.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Joost admitted.

“Me neither,” Aggu responded.

“Good.” You couldn’t hold back your smile. You watched as they quickly changed into their boxers and joined you in bed. Your worries melted away as they laid next to you, arms lazily on your waist. Maybe you’d have to make that decision at some point, but that would be a problem for another day.

[firelordsfirelady]

IV. Outburst

Author: @firelordsfirelady

Imagine: When Y/N—a princess of one of the Water Tribes—is told she’s leaving her tribe, she never expects that she’s to be betrothed to the Fire Lord’s son, nor was she prepared to be exiled the very day she arrived at the Fire Nation. With her life in the hands of her new fiancée, how will life change for the princess? 

Pairing: Zuko x F!Reader

Trigger warnings: arranged marriage, feelings of fear, banishment, mentions of burns/abuse, frustration, violence, betrayal

Word Count: 1167

Destined to be Yin and Yang

I own no rights to Avatar the Last Airbender or any of the characters/story.

Author’s Notes

The characters as all aged up so Zuko’s banishment happens when he’s 16 

Keep in mind I am bringing a unique world with inspiration from ATLA in their characters, some of the events that happen, bending, etc. Not many things may align or occur with what happened in the show. It’s intended that way, so I hope you enjoy it regardless.

See Y/N’s inspiration here. 

Destined to be Yin and Yang Soundtrack (YouTube)

Zuko made no mention of the cookies the next morning, but I anticipated as much from the Prince. The crew, however, raved about my cookies and were quite happy to hear that I would make them plenty of cookies during our time together. I kept my promise because every full moon I would make the crew a batch of cookies and then practice my water bending on the deck before heading to bed. Of course, I never let Zuko or Iroh be out of the cookie receiving as I would deliver their plates before going to bed. 

Thus began my new daily routine of lending a hand in the kitchen or helping with the dishes. I often found myself aiding in other chores around the ship, which only served to aggravate Zuko more. Zuko always made sure to make remarks about how informal of a princess I was, so I made it my mission to find ways to annoy the Prince further. Let’s just say that I was very good at it. 

The first time Zuko saw me mopping the deck, he made a snide comment that earned him an accidental flick of some water from the mop bucket. 

“Forgive me, Prince Zuko,” I had teased him that day. “I am merely just a princess who doesn’t know how to handle the mop.” Iroh hid his small chuckle at my comment, knowing all too well that I was more than capable of handling the simple mop. I think he found it mildly amusing that I teased the Prince often, and this served to agitate the Fire Lord’s son further.

Despite the banter from Zuko,  I had grown to enjoy life traveling around on a ship. As a young girl, I had dreamed of what it would be like to see the world outside of the Tribe, but I quickly realized that as the princess I would never have those opportunities. Especially since after the Avatar disappeared from the world a century ago, the nations decided to sequester away from each other to protect themselves.

With Zuko on the quest to find the Avatar, he has been researching the previous avatars. We have been to several Avatar shrines across the nations and have been frequenting the other Water Tribes. Zuko was sure that the next avatar would be a Waterbender, and so we stayed near in case the Avatar made his appearance. Each time Zuko got a hint or a tip that there was a chance of the Avatar appearing, the ship would speed to the new destination. Disappointment met Zuko at every new stop, and I felt my heart break more as I watched the hope slowly die from his eyes. Yet, at the next whisper of a sign from the Avatar, Zuko would begin the cycle all over again.

The months slowly turned into years, and Iroh and I met regularly to drink tea together. During our tea visits, Iroh would tell me stories of dragons and the origin stories of Firebending, and, in return, I shared the stories of the Water Nation and our origin. I enjoyed listening to Iroh’s great accomplishments and was glad that I had found a friend in Iroh.

While my friendship with Iroh grew, I could not say the same about my relationship with Zuko. Three years of the same routine with Zuko had begun to wear the hope in me down. I tried my best to make an effort with Zuko in hopes that we might be able to at least tolerate each other. I gave him cookies every full moon, and I offered information that I read at the shrines regarding the avatar that might help Zuko. I did get a small glimmer of hope when he stopped calling me an informal princess after the first six months of life on the ship. After two years, there was light banter between us that was somewhat jovial, but the banter was more teasing than anything else.

That all changed today when Zuko had met another dead end in his search for the Avatar. Once we arrived back at the boat, Zuko’s anger was palpable as he stalked on to the deck. Iroh’s face was a look of concern as he watched Zuko clench and unclench his fists. I chewed my bottom lip as I slowly walked onto the deck behind Iroh, who shared a concerned look with me. My heart increased its pace in my chest as I opened my mouth to say something to the Prince.

“Zuko—“ I started, but Zuko whipped around on his heel and his golden eyes were bright with rage.

“You don’t get the right to call me Zuko.” He snapped in anger. “You’re a good-for-nothing princess who doesn’t understand her place.” My breath hitched as I prepared myself for whatever else he was about to say. “I can understand why my father wants me to find the Avatar, but I can’t begin to wrap my head around why the hell he wants me to marry you.”

“You’re prancing around this ship like it���s a vacation home. Cooking with the crew, cleaning the decks, and not to mention you’re waterbending during the full moon.“ Keeping my face straight, I felt hurt cloud my heart as Zuko spoke his next words with so much hate. “You make cookies to compensate for what you lack as a person. You’re a pathetic excuse for a princess, and I hate that you’re my betrothed.”

Zuko was breathing heavily as he finished his rant, and I swallowed the lump in my throat in a pathetic excuse to calm the tears forming in my eyes. Silence fell upon the entire boat as I composed myself. Part of me wanted to scream at him that he wasn’t the only one suffering here. A tiny part of me wanted to wrap him in a cocoon of ice and then walk away. Another part of me wanted to hug him because I could see he was frustrated, and I was the only person who he was set on taking his anger upon.

I did none of those things as I shook my head and walked away. His words cut me deep, but I refused to let him see the tears that silently fell from my eyes as I made haste to my bedroom. Once behind the security of the closed door, I let the tsunami wave of tears flow as I cried into my pillow.

After a few hours of crying, I lay in bed and I stared at the ceiling. My eyes were no doubt red and puffy from the amount of crying I had done. Though my eyes burned, I could not tempt my body into a thoughtless slumber. So, instead of sleeping, I got up from bed and lit the oil lamp on my desk. I grabbed some blank pieces of paper and a pencil then began doing the one thing that would distract me the most right now: draw.

Tag List @chevysstuffs @puttyly @ginger24880 @night-fall-moon @hypnoticbeing

[heylittleriotact]

⚰ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ⚰

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3

The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.

We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.

I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.

Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)

Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨

𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:

A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings. 

She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.

She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.

She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?” 

She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her. 

“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her. 

He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!

He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.

“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”  

He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk. 

“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her. 

Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts. 

He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.

“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…

Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs. 

Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.

She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted. 

“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.” 

“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy. 

Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…

“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter. 

“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”

The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…

“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late. 

He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.

His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.

“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”

She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.

Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars. 

Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips… 

Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.

She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more. 

“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”

Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit. 

“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain. 

The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.” 

“It feels so good though…” 

“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.” 

She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”

She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…

And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness. 

She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”

“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”

[chuchiotaku]

[ANNOUNCEMENT] There and Back Again Book 2

(You didn't really think I'd leave you guys hanging now, did you?)

Ron Weasley returns to Hogwarts for his second year with danger hot in his heels. Our favorite nineteen-turned-twelve year old time traveler will need more than his knowledge of the previous life to survive. Because, as Ron is about to find out, the consequences of messing with time won't always result in his favor, and that one ripple is enough to change the tides in ways he could not even anticipate.

But the real question is, whose body is doomed to lie in the Chamber forever this time? And can Ron find a way to save them and the year before it is too late?

An Archive of Our Own exclusive release.

May 2025

Other Notes:

So it turns out I'm still alive. Yay!

In case you were wondering why it took this long, it's because planning for this took longer than I thought, and harder too. Since the feedback for Year 1 was generally positive and you lot seemed to have really liked how it went, the pressure was on to at least sustain that quality of work moving forward.

AO3 Exclusive Release?

Starting book 2, all of TBA's future chapters will be posted exclusively on AO3. While I do have fond memories and much respect for FF.net for being one of the earliest and most accessible fanfiction archives out there, the amount of spam/bot reviewers and messages, the clunky, outdated user interface and the difficulty of maintaining two versions of all my fanfics has made me decide to continue updating my works in one site only.

That said, I will still be posting at least one more chapter in FF.net before moving on, also as a way for me to announce TBA's continuation at AO3 for my FF.net readers.

So how is Book 2 now?

Based on my draft outline, we're looking at 20 chapters minimum, and while some events from JK's original Chamber of Secrets work will come up in this fanfic (I expect most of you will want Ron and co. to face the big bad snake at some point), there are a few surprises here and there in store for you. As for who has opened the Chamber and who will be the Basilisk's victims this time around, our guess is as good as Ron's.

I hope to release the first chapter roll and the preview of the first chapter by April 2025 before the official release, barring any unforeseen circumstances. Life, you know I'm looking at you.

Thank you again for your support for There and Back Again book 1, and hoping for your continued patronage for book 2!

Also,

Happy Birthday, Ron!

PS: I am so behind answering DMs, Asks and all other things. To all who have sent me messages, I'm sorry for the delays in responding but I have received them and I will get back to you soon. I just have to remember that Tumblr has an inbox for messages and asks. Four years on this bloody thing and I still can't remember that. 😅

[yeonmuse]

ᥫ᭡ f!reader x Park Sunghoon ── 𝒢enre. Uni au. fluff, non idol enha. feats. ot7 [reqs are closed] ᝰ.ᐟ 𝓁ibrary ⛸️

⍣ ೋ AUTHORS NOTES . This is part of admins Enhypen University Special Event. This series also has slight connections to every series in said event so occasionally characters from the other members chapters may appear in this series as well.

˗ˏˋSUMMARY ´ˎ˗ Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to his older sister. He finds himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

TAGLIST IS CLOSED ❕ 🏷️

ice cream you scream we’re all screaming

Though part of her had been wishing it would be just the two of them she had been somewhat grateful Sunghoon hadn’t asked her to go with him alone. Her newfound attraction towards him only made things far more complicated than they needed to be when it came to him. Though in her eyes it had been fully one sided, she was beginning to realize she saw him as something more than a friend and she knew that was a boundary that neither of them would ever cross because he only saw her as a friend.

As Sunghoon arrived at her place for the first time he found himself getting nervous, as he was bnow in uncharted territory, hell his own teammates had been here before he had so of course he had anticipating going inside, but for some reason he couldn’t get his feet to move – as if they had been cemented to the ground beneath him. Staring at the text in his phone she had sent only an hour prior he stares up at the apartment building before heading off inside making a beeline straight for the elevators and heading for the top floor.

He stood on the other side of the door and for a few seconds his mind had drifted off elsewhere. Sungoon was well aware that this wasn’t a date, nor would the two of them be alone together, so why the hell did he suddenly feel so any nerves pouring in as he raised his hand to knock on her door. Most of his nerves began to melt away as the door swung open and on the other side stood Junie with the biggest smile on her face.

“You’re here! Yn he’s here!’’ Before Sunghoon could fully process and greet her she had already been pulling him inside.

“My sisters still getting ready, she's been taking two hours just to find something to put on.’’ junie complains, making Sunghoon chuckle.

“Guess she’s just not as quick as you hm?’’

“She wishes, now that she’s older she always takes so long even when we’re just going to the grocery store she takes an hour.’’ Sunghoon couldn’t help but laugh at her little sister's complaints as the both of them took a seat on the couch.

“Only reason you get dressed so quickly is because you don’t dress yourself.’’ yn claps back as she strolls down the hall, a smile on her lips as she teases her sister.

“I do to dress myself!”

“Yeah you put them on yourself but our parents pick them out for you.’’ yn then looks over to Sunghoon, an amused smile on her lips “She’s been waiting for you to get here ever since she got out of school by the way.’’

“Oh, has she?’’ Sunghoon looks over to junie who was practically giving her older sister a death stare ( as much of a death stare you could give when you just look like an angry bunny anytime you get mad ).

“Don’t get your hopes up I just want the ice cream.’’

“Pft.’’ yn quickly turns her head trying her best to stifle a laugh.As young as her sister had been, her sass level was that of an adult and never failed to make her laugh.

By the time they all had finally gotten out the sun had started to set thus bringing along with it golden hour. Despite going out for only ice cream, Junie had somehow convinced them both to take her to the claw arcade, which only assisted in the loss of a total of twenty dollars between the two of them and no reward what-so-ever. Fully giving up on the claw machine Sunghoon just resulted in taking the two of them to a plushie store and letting the younger girl go crazy while the two of them caught up.

“You know you didn’t have to do this she’s already spoiled enough as it is.’’ yn comments watching as her sister ran around amongst other kids and adults talking in all of the different toys and stuffies.

“I want to, at least I know I won't be losing twenty dollars and getting nothing after getting one here.’’ he grambles, earning a laugh from her.

“Yeah those things are definitely rigged, there's absolutely no way you played as many times as you did and got nothing.’’ She laughs it off, leaning her back against the shelf of plushies behind herself.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy either way today, she loves practicing with you but i’m sure this means a lot more to her.’’

He wanted to ask her if she also loved practicing with him, if she valued her time with him as much as her sister did but their conversation was cut short as junie ran over with a plushie almost two times her size in her hands.

The rest of their outing had gone by smoothly, after the plushie shopping they’d stopped for food and shopped around before ultimately landing at their final stop for the day, the ice cream shop. Amongst the three of them, Junie was the most excited for this, Sunghoon having told her to go crazy gave her the opportunity to go all out with the things she wanted — which meant endless sprinkles, candy and caramel toppings. She and Sunghoon settled for something more subtle in taste, him going for their infamous mango ice cream while she went for the matcha.

“Thank you again for this, I've been so stressed with all the practices and assignments i’ve just needed to decompress, what made you ask me anyways?” she asks, her curiosity practically seeping at the seams as she took a bite if her ice cream

“I feel like my teammates have seen more of you than I have since the party.’’

“Ooh ounds like someones been missing me?’’ Obviously wanted she’d set it she was simply teasing, not expecting him to come out with any sort of answer. But as she shoved a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth the words fell from his lips so quick she’d nearly choked.

“I did.’’ She sat there spoon hanging halfway at her mouth eyes blinking as if she’d just heard the most shocking news in her life. She hadn’t expected his answer to be so blunt and forward yet he admitted to missing her without the slightest anchor of hesitation. It made her heart skip a beat and brought her even closer to the realization that she was in deep shit.

She was fully snapped back from her thoughts as she heard her sister laughing about something while showing Sunghoon what she had been watching on her sister’s phone the entire time. Sunghoon looked at her just as attentively as she would been it came to her. He didn’t seem bothered or annoyed by the constant interruptions between the two of them, he treated her as if she had been his own little sister. Wiping ice cream from her face or giving head pads while she sat there quietly watching her cartoons. Meanwhile every time he tended to Junie he seemed to completely miss the way that yn looked at him. It wasn’t the usual look she’d give him, behind her eyes glimmered something deeper. Right here in this ice cream shop she was staring to realize that what she felt towards him was no longer just simple attraction. She liked Park Sunghoon, and not in the friendship kind of way. The realization left her internally screaming as she knew that he would never house those same feelings for her because as he once said himself “we’re friends right?”.

The entire drive back to her house was silent as she sat wrestling with her feelings and whether or not it was a good idea or not. As they eventually arrived at her place and he scoops her younger sister into his arms she watches his back as he carries her inside, a night that was meant to be so happy turning somewhat somber. Shaking the thoughts from her head for now she follows him into the elevator seemingly missing the glances he’d send her way. While he stood there going back and forth in his own thoughts wondering if he should ask her out again she stood there seemingly deep in thought. The two stood in the elevator as quiet as ever the only sound interrupting their momentary silence being the ding of the elevator and the shuffling of feet as they stepped onto her floor.

“I’ll take her from here, you shouldn’t have to carry her all the way inside.” She spoke soberly not wanting to wake her sister as she unlocks the door before turning to take her into her arms. Sunghoon saw no reason to protest as they had already made it to her door.

“Thanks again for tonight.” She stood there staring at him as if she had been waiting for something, the hallway lights glimmering in her eyes made it so much harder to look away from her. They made it even more harder for him to make the decision he had been fighting with himself to make for the last hour, but of course he failed to ask. And as the two of them said their goodnights and she closed her door he let out a sigh, but not one of relief one of disappointment. He once again failed to ask her the question he’d long to ask since the moment he realized he saw her as more than a friend.

CHAPTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

synopsis — Park Sunghoon doesn’t usually like getting close to new people, but when a little girl shows up to his place of work in need of skating lessons he finds himself getting oddly close to her older sister. Now he’s starting to realize himself developing some uncontainable feelings while having to teach not only her little sister to skate, but her as well.

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