#well this took me longer than it should have

[vampzity]

you’re mine | Y.JN

★ DAY EIGHT: MARKING WITH JEONGIN ★

pairing: bf! jeongin x f! reader

while getting ready to go out for his birthday, jeongin can’t seem to keep his eyes off you. all day his mind filled with dirty thoughts of you— the way you looked in his clothing, how your hips moved when you walked. he wanted to tear you apart, make sure that everyone knew you belonged to him.

[warnings]: MDNI 18+!!, smut, hickeys, biting, possession, pet names (baby, bunny, whore, angel), praising?? degrading??, fingering, a bit of nipple play, oral (f. receiving), innie gets a little jealous

word count: 2k

Jeongin sat in the kitchen, watching as you paced back and forth while getting ready. He was already done, but he always told you to take your time since he didn’t mind the wait. He understood that sometimes girls just took a little longer and was okay with that.

You made repeated trips to the kitchen, asking him what looked best on you and what outfits might’ve clashed with his own. To him, you were a bit of a perfectionist— as you always make sure to keep everything in line. Jeongin didn’t mind, in fact he loved watching how each outfit looked on you, how perfect the fabric hugged the natural curves on your body.

He didn’t care what you wore outside, as he always made it clear to everyone that you were off the market. Though he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make him jealous the way you caught others attention.

“Innie are you even listening to me?”

He snapped out of his thoughts, meeting your pouted eyes as you crossed your arms over your chest. His eyes dropped to your outfit, noticing how your black body con dress hugged your waist tightly. It ended at your mid thighs, and you tied it together with one of his dark blue jean jackets to give more of a baggy look.

“Should I wear the stockings that have the fleece on the inside, so I don’t get cold? With my black boots?”

You did a swift 360 turn for him, catching his attention at just exactly how short your dress was. A pit of jealously filled his stomach, knowing that any guy who was near you could find arousal in your dress.

“Go change.” he ordered, his tone of voice suddenly cold.

You furrowed your eyebrows, glancing at your outfit before meeting his gaze again. You tilted your head at him, crossing your arms in resistance.

“Why? You never had a problem with me wearing anything like this before.”

“Well I do now. Take it off.”

You rolled your eyes, walking back to the room. Jeongin followed behind you, closing the door behind him as he watched you grab your boots from the closet.

“Well I don’t care. I’m your girlfriend, men aren’t gonna bother me if I’m around you. I don’t know why you’re suddenly being so negative.”

Jeongin grabbed onto your arm, pulling you back to his body. He wrapped his arms around your waist tightly, resting his chin on your shoulder. Your face flushed red as his breath hit the side of your neck, his slight bulge pressing against the back of your ass.

“You’re mine. No one else should be seeing your body but me.”

He kissed your neck softly, his warm lips giving you comfort as they made you hotter than you already were.

“But since you want to dress like an attention seeker,” his lips latched onto your skin, sucking against it softly until it turned a soft red color.

“I’ll make sure they know you’re mine.”

You moaned in response, a small tickle dancing up your nerves. He bit the area he left a red mark, small teeth marks appearing onto your skin. You threw your head back against him, letting him undo the buttons to the jean jacket. He pulled the jacket off of you, throwing it aside onto the bed as his kisses slowly worked down to your shoulder.

Jeongin turned your body slightly, angling it enough so that you could watch him in the body mirror. His lustful eyes met your own, a small smirk appearing on his face.

“You’re so pretty angel. I just want to sink my teeth into you.”

His kisses remained soft, with the occasional bite here and there that would make you wince in slight pain. He kissed the top of your back, sucking against the skin softly until the color turned into a light reddish purple.

“Such delicate skin. It’s a shame I have to ruin it with these bruises.”

Jeongin snaked his hands underneath your dress, expecting a pair of shorts only to be met with your smaller hipster panties. He gasped quietly, slipping his fingers in between your folds.

“Wow no shorts either? Who else grabbed your attention that isn’t me?” You let out breath of relief, melting under his touch as his pads worked your clit.

Your hand wrapped around his arm, small moans and gasps escaping you as he rubbed your clit slowly. He continued to bite at the skin on your shoulder blades, leaving as many possible bite marks that he could. His lips latched onto your skin, most hickeys smaller or a darker shade than others.

“You want me to keep going baby?”

You nodded, whimpering as he played with your sensitive bud. He pressed down against it, creating more pressure as his fingers twirled in circles. A loud groan escaped you, legs shaking as he sped up his pace just a bit. He watched you in the mirror as your head rested on his chest, eyes closed as you felt your stomach churn in pleasure.

Jeongin left a trail of kisses down your shoulder, stopping to place a dark red hickey on the side of your shoulder. His finger slipped in between your folds, teasing your aching hole as the friction against your clit heightened. With every move you made, your ass rubbed on his growing bulge, earning small groans here and there. He made it a task to purposely brush himself against you, his tip leaking from your unintentional touch.

“Gonna cum.” you mumbled, his body grounding you from behind.

Jeongin tilted his head at you in the mirror, a brief moment of thinking running through his head.

“Aww, so desperate.. aren’t we bunny?”

He pulled his hand out of your underwear, picking you up bridal style and placing you onto the bed. He got in right after you, his body hovering over you. His eyes were dark, filled with a lust you never seen before. A bit of possession in them as Jeongin was desperate to mark you like a dog.

He placed his knee between your thighs, pushing up against you just enough for your clit to feel the pressure. His kisses danced on the front of your neck, his soft sucking leaving a map of hickeys against your skin. His lips moved along your collarbone and down toward your chest, making his dick twitch thinking about them.

“Fuck I just want to eat you alive baby. You’re such a beauty when I have you like this.”

He pulled the straps of your mini dress down, letting your tits pop out from under. Jeongin was practically drooling, bringing his thumb to his mouth as a source of lubrication. He popped it out of his mouth, rubbing it against your nipple softly. You squirmed beneath him, watching his lips kiss around your chest. His thumb worked tirelessly at your nipple, his warm lips leaving dark hickeys that you couldn’t hide in a bathing suit. He wrapped his teeth around your skin, biting it harshly.

“Fuck Innie, that hurts.” you moaned in pleasure, displaying an opposite reaction of pain.

You ran your fingers through his hair, arching your back under him as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. He sucked against it softly, his tongue swirling around it. He took turns between each breast, leaving small marks here and there to remind you of him.

“My, my.” Jeongin admired your tits, smirking at every mark he left on them.

“I don’t mean to hurt you angel, I just can’t stand the thought of you with someone else.”

His kisses trailed down your clothed stomach, eventually landing onto your thighs. You whimpered quietly, a funny feeling in your stomach making you excited for what he could’ve been thinking.

He bit your thighs harshly, his teeth marks making themselves present on your skin. He massaged your other thigh as he worked hickeys into your skin, trying to ease the slight discomfort it gave you.

“The thought of others admiring you the way I admire you.”

Jeongin licked your thigh slowly, pulling your underwear off and throwing it off to the side.

“You’re mine, you know that?” he looked up, his eyes meeting your own as you nodded shyly. “You belong to me.. only me.”

His tongue dragged against your folds, ending at your swollen bud. He sucked on it softly, earning a pleading moan out of you. He lapped up your juices as his finger nails dug into your soft skin.

“Do I not give you enough attention?”

He kissed the sides of your pussy, tongue still dancing around your folds. You pushed your hips upward, grinding against his tongue slightly.

He sucked on your clit, sticking his fingers into you and fucking you softly. You let out a small whimpering sigh, raking your fingers through his blonde locks as he toyed with you. The sound of your juices filled the room, his fingers curling just enough to hit your sweet spot.

“Do I not make you feel good, baby? Is this not enough for you?”

His fingers sped up their pace, making you open your legs further for him as he continued to leave hickeys around your thighs.

“You want another man to fuck you like this, eh?”

His harsh gaze admired you, watching as you helplessly moaned in pleasure while your body squirmed.

“I won’t let it happen.” His thumb moved circles around your clit, fingers still pounding into you.

He came back up to your level, kissing your neck and sucking on the skin to leave darker marks than before. His other hand held onto your chin, moving your head to the side as you helplessly moaned into his ear.

“Mm, that’s it baby.” He felt your walls clench around his fingers. “Let me remind you who exactly you belong to.”

Your moans soon turned into breathless noises, your stomach doing flips as you felt yourself slipping through his fingers. Jeongin noticed this, slipping a third finger into your aching hole.

“Gonna cum baby?” You nodded in response, your eyes showing mercy as they met his own.

“Do you think you deserve to after trying to dress like a whore?”

You attempted to whine out in defense, only for whimpers to leave you. Jeongin tilted his head at you, laughing to himself.

“I should just leave you to suffer. It is my birthday after all.” He stopped in place, his thumb dragging against your clit agonizingly slow.

“Please, Innie. I’ll change, I promise!”

He raised his eyebrow, his free hand tracing the hickeys on your breasts.

“Please? Now you want to listen?” He leaned over, grabbing your chin once again to meet his face. He glared into your eyes, his face as cold as ever.

“If I see you in this dress again, I’ll be sure to rip it off you next time.”

You trembled underneath him, his fingers starting up a slow pace inside of you. He kissed the side of your jawline, taking a small bite at your skin. You winced in response, moaning as his fingers fastened inside of you.

Within seconds of him starting, you immediately let yourself go onto his fingers, juices spilling out on his hand. He sat back, watching as you coated him.

“Atta girl, don’t hold back.”

He pulled his fingers out of you, licking your juices off his fingers before leaving small kisses on your thighs. He pulled the straps back onto your shoulder, fixing your dress before pulling you up to your feet. He walked you over to the body mirror, standing behind you with a smug smile on his face.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

He rested his chin on your shoulder, watching your face flush red as your eyes fell to every hickey he left on your skin. You nodded, pulling on the strap to find the hidden ones under your dress.

“You can wear this dress if you want.” He hovered by your ear, laughing to himself before continuing.

“With these visible marks, you’ll surely get that attention you so badly want.”

back to valentine’s masterlist

a/n: happy birthday to innie!! <33 this has gotta another fav of mine that I wrote.. may have bias wrecked myself in the process..😅

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @scarfac3 @jjongibears @dollywoo @h4untedgrl @rvereri @joonezra @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @mingtinysworld @tiredlittlevirgo @honeyhwaaa @evidive @inniesfanblog @bluesungology @stephanieeeyang @potentialgay @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub

★ comment to be added to the taglist or fill the detailed form here!

[heliosunny]

Hi hi!! Can I request a yan! Jing yuan with an assistant reader? Like manipulative Yuanie. Thinking about how he’ll have one of the people who are your colleagues overload you with work so he can swoop in and save you like he was your “knight in shining armor”. Having you fill out lots of paperwork so you’ll have to work overtime and stay with him more is definitely something he’d do!

I think yan! Jing yuan would also take you out on ‘business dinners’ as he’d like to call it. 🤭🤭

I also wanted to ask do you take nsfw requests? Or maybe you can make a rules list too please!

Mwah ❤️ I hope you have a good day!!!

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Assistant!Reader

The workload had been suffocating lately. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork found their way onto your desk, each page demanding your immediate attention. Your fingers ached from gripping the brush for too long, eyes burning as you struggled to keep up. It didn’t make sense how your responsibilities had doubled out of nowhere.

"Ah, still working?" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leaned against the doorway of your office, golden eyes filled with amusement as he took in the sight of your disheveled state.

"You're overworking yourself" he chided, stepping in. "That’s no good. If you collapse, who will assist me?"

You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your temples. "I don’t have a choice. These reports need to be done before the deadline."

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully, gaze flickering over the piles of documents. "Strange. I was under the impression that some of these tasks weren’t meant for you…"

His voice was light, almost casual, but something about it made your skin prickle. Before you could respond, he reached out, plucking a report from the top of the stack.

"Ah, this one" he mused, flipping through the pages. "This should have been handled by your colleague. How peculiar."

Your brows furrowed. Had you really been doing work that wasn’t meant for you? It made sense now—why everything had felt overwhelming lately.

Jing Yuan sighed dramatically, setting the papers aside. "It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design." He tilted his head, white strands of hair slipping over his shoulder as he offered a sympathetic smile. "I’ll have to look into this."

"For now" he continued, "why don’t you take a break? Stay a little longer with me. I was just about to have dinner—perhaps you’d care to join me? Consider it a business dinner, of course."

You shook your head, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, General, but I can’t. I still have work to finish."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, such diligence. It’s admirable, really." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But overworking yourself won’t earn you any favors, you know."

Still, you refused to budge. "I’ll manage."

Jing Yuan sighed, feigning defeat. "Very well, if you insist." He straightened, a small smile playing on his lips. "At least allow me to lend a hand. I can ease some of your burdens—"

"No."

The word left your lips firmer than expected. His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze, something unreadable yet sharp.

You didn’t give him a chance to press further. With a quick bow, you excused yourself, diving back into your work before he could weave his words around you again.

By the time you finished, the lights are already on. The cool night air biting against your skin. You exhaled, finally free from the suffocating weight of paperwork.

Or so you thought.

Jing Yuan was leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, arms crossed in an almost lazy manner.

"You’re late" he murmured, pushing himself off the pillar. "I was beginning to worry."

"General? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Working until this hour—alone, no less? That’s hardly safe."

"I can take care of myself. How old do you think I am?"

Jing Yuan tilted his head, his amusement growing. "I don’t doubt that. But even the strongest warriors aren’t invincible." He stepped closer. "If you had accepted my help earlier, I wouldn’t have had to wait for you like this."

"You—waited for me?"

Jing Yuan let out a soft hum. "Of course. What kind of superior would I be if I let my hardworking assistant wander home alone at such an ungodly hour?"

His logic was twisted, you knew that. But the way he said it, the way his voice dripped with gentle concern, made it difficult to argue.

"Come," he said, placing a hand on your back, guiding you forward. "I’ll escort you home."

-----

The moment you stepped into your office, dread settled deep in your stomach.

More paperwork. MORE PAPERWORK?

The stacks had doubled—no, tripled overnight. Piles upon piles of documents sat on your desk, some even spilling onto the floor. It was impossible. There was no way this much work had suddenly appeared unless…

Your mind flickered back to the conversation from yesterday. Jing Yuan’s words echoed in your head.

"It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design."

A sinking feeling settled in your chest, but you shook it off. You didn’t have time to dwell on suspicions, not when you were buried under all this.

You spent the morning frantically working, but no matter how fast you went, the papers never seemed to end. By midday, your exhaustion became unbearable. Your pride screamed at you to push through, to handle it yourself, but reality was much crueler.

You needed help.

And you knew exactly who to ask.

Reluctantly, you made your way to Jing Yuan’s office, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. The guards outside barely spared you a glance before letting you in.

Inside, Jing Yuan lounged comfortably behind his desk, golden eyes lifting lazily as you entered. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise" he mused. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You hesitated. Even without looking at him, you could feel his gaze, sharp and expectant.

Taking a small breath, you finally spoke, voice quieter than intended.

"I… need help."

The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, Jing Yuan chuckled.

"My, my," he drawled, resting his chin against his palm. "So even my diligent assistant has limits. How adorable."

Your face burned, and you instinctively looked away.

"I would never abandon a subordinate in need," he said smoothly while walking over to you. "But…"

You tensed as he stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming.

"I have one condition."

You swallowed. "What is it?"

He smiled. "You’ll sit near me while we work. That’s all."

That was… it? No outrageous demand, no unreasonable request?

Sensing your hesitation, Jing Yuan leaned in ever so slightly, his voice a soft murmur. "Surely, that’s not too much to ask?"

You bit your lip before reluctantly nodding. "...Alright."

Jing Yuan’s smile widened. "Good."

Without another word, he led you to his desk, gesturing toward the seat beside his. The placement left little space between you, the close proximity forcing you to feel the warmth of his presence.

"Now," he said, handing you a brush, his fingers grazing yours for just a moment too long. "Let’s begin, shall we?"

As you dipped the brush into the ink, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had fallen right into his trap.

The quiet scratching of brushes against paper filled the office, the occasional rustling of documents the only other sound. You sat stiffly beside Jing Yuan, fully aware of his presence as he worked leisurely beside you.

It wasn’t just the closeness that unsettled you—it was the way his eyes would flicker to you every so often, studying you between strokes of his brush.

"You’re quite tense" Jing Yuan noted, voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t look up. "I’m just focusing."

"Hmm." He leaned back slightly, stretching. "I wonder… do I make you nervous?"

Your fingers twitched slightly around the brush, but you forced yourself to keep writing. "Of course not, General."

Jing Yuan chuckled, clearly entertained. "No need for such formalities. We’re spending so much time together—surely, you can call me Jing Yuan?"

You hesitated, but before you could think of a response, he smoothly shifted the subject.

"I must say," he mused, "this is quite an improvement. If I had known all it took to keep you close was a bit of extra work, I would have arranged this much sooner."

You turned to him, only to be met with his usual easy-going smile.

"Just a joke," he reassured lightly. "Unless… you’d rather I keep you overworked? I could make sure you need my help every day."

There it was again. That subtle pressure wrapped in velvet words.

You swallowed hard and forced a polite chuckle. "That won’t be necessary."

Jing Yuan exhaled as if disappointed. "Pity."

Hours passed, and despite his slow, deliberate pace, he finished his portion faster than you. He hummed, watching you struggle to keep up.

"You’re still working?" he asked, feigning concern. "You really should take a break."

"I can’t afford to. There’s still too much left."

Jing Yuan hummed in thought. Then, as if struck by an idea, he leaned in slightly, his voice a near whisper.

"How about this?" His tone was warm, coaxing. "I’ll help you again tomorrow… but only if you have dinner with me afterward."

"You deserve a meal after working so hard," he continued, resting his chin on his palm. "And it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Just the two of us, away from all these dreadful reports?"

It sounded harmless enough.

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Alright."

Jing Yuan smiled, pleased.

"Good" he murmured. "Then it’s a promise."

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the Xianzhou Luofu in a soft, warm glow. Lanterns flickered to life as you walked beside Jing Yuan, your exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. He had insisted on walking with you, his usual lazy smile in place, but there was an unmistakable satisfaction in his gaze.

You had been too drained to argue.

The restaurant he chose was far from the usual places where officials gathered for formal meetings. It was intimate, the kind of place that felt too personal for just work.

"You didn’t have to pick somewhere this… refined" you murmured, hesitant as you stepped inside.

Jing Yuan chuckled. "Nonsense. You deserve a proper meal after all your hard work." He guided you to a private table tucked away from prying eyes, his hand lingering just a second too long against your back.

As you sat down, a waiter arrived almost instantly, as if they had been expecting you.

"Order whatever you like," Jing Yuan encouraged, waving a hand dismissively. "Consider it a reward for your dedication."

You hesitated before cautiously selecting something modest. The last thing you wanted was to feel indebted.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, ordered without restraint.

"You know" he mused, "I admire your work ethic, but I do wonder—do you ever take time for yourself?"

"I don’t have much choice. The workload has been… demanding."

His golden eyes glinted. "Ah, yes. It seems someone keeps piling too much on you, doesn’t it?"

You glanced at him suspiciously, but he merely took a sip of his wine, his expression unreadable.

"It’s a shame" he continued, "how easily people take advantage of you. Always so responsible, so eager to prove yourself… It makes you an easy target."

His words struck a nerve—not because they were wrong, but because he was speaking as if he weren’t the very person orchestrating your exhaustion.

"You make it sound like I’m helpless" you muttered.

Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not at all. You’re quite capable… But even the strongest warriors need someone to protect them sometimes."

There it was again. That gentle, insistent push—reminding you that he was the only one who truly saw you, the only one who cared enough to step in.

Your meal arrived, breaking the tension momentarily. You focused on eating, but Jing Yuan never stopped watching, his gaze following every small movement you made.

"You should eat more" he remarked at one point, nudging a dish toward you. "You push yourself too hard. It worries me."

"This is just a business dinner" you reminded him, almost as if you were reminding yourself.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Just business."

But the way he poured you another drink, the way his fingers brushed against yours with each small gesture, told you otherwise.

Jing Yuan was in no rush to leave, drawing out the meal with casual conversation and idle remarks about work, yet every topic always circled back to you.

"You should rest more." "You work too hard." "It must be exhausting, always carrying everything on your shoulders."

His voice was gentle, warm, the perfect balance of concern and admiration.

“I should head home” you finally said, setting your chopsticks down. “It’s getting late.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes studying you in silence. Then, he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

"I suppose you’re right" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your much-needed rest."

Relief flooded you—until he added, “I’ll escort you.”

You tensed. “That’s really not necessary...”

"I insist."

You swallowed your protest, knowing that arguing would only drag this out longer. With a quiet nod, you allowed him to walk you home. The city was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional passerby. Yet somehow, despite the openness of it all, you felt cornered.

Jing Yuan didn’t speak much, but the silence between you was anything but comfortable. When you finally arrived at your door, you turned to him quickly, hoping to end the night before he could push further. "Thank you for the dinner, General."

Jing Yuan smiled. "No need to be so formal. After all," he reached out, lightly brushing his fingers against the back of your hand, "we're much closer now, aren’t we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could step back, he withdrew his hand with a chuckle.

"Rest well, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing into the night.

-----

Jing Yuan had been in a good mood that morning.

You had shyly asked for his help, relied on him, and even allowed him to walk you home. His patience was paying off, you were already beginning to lean on him, just as he had planned.

So when he strolled into the office, humming softly to himself, he expected to find you waiting for him, as usual.

Instead, what he saw made his easygoing expression freeze.

There you were, standing beside another officer, chatting casually as if the exhaustion from yesterday had never existed.

Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes immediately honed in on the scene—on the way you nodded, the small laugh you let out at something the officer said.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

The lazy, pleased expression he had worn all morning dulled into something unreadable.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his presence casting a long shadow as he approached.

Your conversation stalled the moment you noticed him. The officer beside you stiffened, standing at attention.

"Ah, General!" the officer greeted with forced politeness. "Good morning."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, they remained on you.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, but there was no warmth in his voice. "I hope I’m not… interrupting anything important?"

"No, we were just talking about-"

"Ah, I see," Jing Yuan interrupted "And here I thought you had your hands full with work."

The officer looked between the two of you, sensing the tension. "I should get going" he mumbled quickly before excusing himself.

"Was something wrong?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, shaking his head. "Not at all," he said lightly, stepping closer. "I just found it surprising."

"Surprising?"

"That you still have the energy to entertain idle chatter… after all that work."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jing Yuan placed a hand on your shoulder—gentle, yet firm enough to root you in place.

"Come now" he murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "There’s still plenty to do, isn’t there?"

In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t pleased.

And he wouldn’t let this slide.

The tension from the morning never fully left.

Jing Yuan acted as if nothing had happened, his usual lazy smile in place, his voice carrying the same smooth, amused tone.

But you could feel it.

The real punishment began soon after.

It started subtly.

Your workload, already overwhelming, suddenly doubled.

Requests that would usually be divided among the other assistants somehow all ended up on your desk. Forms, reports, urgent documents—all requiring immediate attention, all piling up at an alarming rate.

By noon, you could barely breathe under the pressure.

Still, you pushed through, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you struggle.

But just as you were starting to make progress, Jing Yuan’s voice interrupted your focus.

"Ah, this one’s incorrect." he mused, holding up a form you had completed earlier.

You blinked, frowning. "But I—"

"Fix it for me, won’t you?" he cut in smoothly, placing it back on your desk.

You stared at the document, confusion creeping in. You were certain you had filled it out correctly. But when you reached for another, you saw that the one you had submitted before, the one he himself had approved, was suddenly filled with minor errors.

Mistakes that hadn’t been there before.

Had he… altered them?

Before you could question it, he spoke again, his tone light and teasing.

"It’s unlike you to be so careless" he mused, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. "Are you perhaps… distracted?"

He was toying with you.

And yet, what could you say?

Accusing him directly would only backfire.

So, you swallowed your frustration and forced yourself to keep working.

By the time evening arrived, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. You could barely think straight, your hands aching from the relentless writing. Just as you were about to gather your things to leave, a shadow fell over your desk. Jing Yuan.

"You’ve worked so hard today" he said, his voice like silk. "Why don’t I treat you to dinner again?"

Your body screamed for rest, but you knew—this wasn’t an invitation.

It was a test.

And you already knew what happened to those who disappointed him.

So, with a quiet nod, you accepted.

And just like that, he won again.

-----

I think I'll update some rules if I have time.

For now, I don't receive NSFW content, it's a bit challenging for me in that field. :3 I rather focus on what I'm capable of doing rather than accepting all requests and giving you unwanted results.

[julietsf1]

Home Again - Charles Leclerc x Reader

summary: eight years, one city, and a thousand unspoken words—will a chance encounter in London bring closure, or is there more in store for Monaco's golden boy and the one who got away? (4.5k words)

content: reunion, slight angst, unresolved feelings, childhood friends

AN: another Charles one! I felt like these tropes really suited his vibe, I hope you enjoy!! :)

____________________________________

London always felt like a city of paradoxes - chaotic yet calming, detached yet full of life. As I sipped my cappuccino at a small café tucked away in Soho, I let my mind wander. The same questions had lingered in my mind over the years, growing louder the longer I avoided them. Was it a mistake to leave? Should I have fought harder to keep in touch with him? With Charles?

I shook my head. No, leaving Monaco had been necessary. It was beautiful, yes, but it was like living inside a postcard, picture-perfect on the outside but so painfully hollow within. Everyone was constantly posturing, trying to outdo the next person in opulence, charm, or connections. It was exhausting.

And Charles… he was Monte Carlo personified in so many ways. Stunning, magnetic, the kind of person who made you feel alive just by being in his orbit. But there was something raw and real beneath that glossy exterior, something I’d always seen, even when no one else seemed to. I loved him for it. And maybe, in a way, I hated him too - for thriving in a place that felt like it would suffocate me.

The faint chime of the café door opening pulled me from my thoughts. I glanced up, expecting some trendy Londoner or a tourist fumbling with their map. But instead, my eyes landed on a familiar face, one I hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. Arthur Leclerc.

“Y/N?” His voice was incredulous, his eyebrows shooting up as he stopped mid-step. He looked exactly the same, just a bit taller, a bit sharper around the edges. Still the same boy I remembered from childhood, though, with that mischievous glint in his eye.

I blinked, unsure if I was hallucinating. “Arthur?”

He grinned, practically bounding over to my table. “Mon dieu, it is you! I wasn’t sure at first, but… wow, what are you doing in London?”

I gestured to my half-empty coffee cup. “Living here. What about you? I thought you’d be… I don’t know, in Monaco or racing somewhere glamorous.”

Arthur slid into the seat across from me without waiting for an invitation, his grin widening. “I was here for a sim session, actually. But you, London? I thought you’d be in Paris or some other philosophy capital, writing about Socrates or something.”

I laughed softly. “Close enough. I came here for university, and I never left.”

“Eight years.” His tone was lighter, but his words carried weight. “It’s been eight years, Y/N. Do you ever go back?”

The question hit me harder than I expected. I took a sip of my coffee to buy myself time. “No,” I admitted. “Not since… well, not since I left.”

Arthur’s expression softened, though confusion lingered in his eyes. “You just… left,” he said gently. “No one really understood why. Charles especially.”

I looked down at my coffee, the words caught in my throat. How could I explain the weight of feeling like an outsider in a world I was supposed to call home?

“I just needed to go,” I murmured. “It wasn’t about anyone else.”

Arthur studied me for a moment, then nodded slowly. “I guess I never really got it, but… if it’s what you needed, then fine.” He paused before leaning forward with a small smile. “Come back. Just for the weekend, for the Grand Prix. I think it’d mean a lot to everyone. To Charles.”

I bit my lip, unsure how to respond. The truth was, I’d thought about going back a hundred times. But every time, I chickened out. Monaco felt like a ghost town to me now, haunted by memories I wasn’t sure I was ready to face.

“I don’t know,” I said finally. “It’s complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Arthur said simply. He pulled out his phone and started typing something before I could protest. “There. I signed you up as my guest. No backing out now.”

I stared at him, equal parts annoyed and touched by his insistence. “What if I had plans already?”

“Cancel them,” he shot back with a wink. “But seriously, Y/N, it’s time. Come back. Just for a weekend. What’s the worst that could happen?”

I sighed, knowing I’d already lost this battle. And maybe he was right. Maybe it was time.

…

Monaco hadn’t changed. Not really.

The same sunlit streets curved around the cliffs, the same pastel buildings clung to the coastline, their colors soft and warm under the Mediterranean sun. The harbor was still crowded with yachts that gleamed like polished jewels, reflecting the light off the water’s surface. It was all exactly as I remembered—beautiful in the kind of way that made you feel small and insignificant.

I wasn’t sure what I expected. Maybe cracks in the pristine perfection, signs that time had weathered the place the same way it had weathered me. But Monaco, ever the picture perfect place, refused to bend to time.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t resent it for that. The beauty I had once thought insincere now felt strangely comforting, like being greeted by an old friend who hadn’t forgotten you, even if you had drifted apart.

“Here we are, mademoiselle,” the taxi driver said, pulling up to the paddock entrance.

I took a deep breath and stepped out. The familiar hum of Grand Prix weekend surrounded me immediately - the roar of engines revving in the distance, the buzz of chatter from fans and team members, the faint tang of fuel in the air. It was overwhelming, yes, but also exhilarating. Nostalgia wrapped around me, equal parts warm and suffocating.

“Y/N!” Arthur’s voice rang out, pulling me back to the present. He was waiting just inside the paddock entrance, a wide grin spreading across his face as he waved me over.

I smiled despite myself and walked toward him. “Arthur,” I said, my tone teasing. “You’re not old enough to be drinking espresso yet.”

He laughed, pulling me into a hug that was warmer than I expected. “Eight years and you still won’t give me a break. Come on, let’s go.”

“Go where?” I asked as he led me into the paddock, his enthusiasm practically radiating off him.

“Everywhere,” he said simply. “It’s been years. You’ve missed so much.”

Arthur guided me through the maze of the paddock, pointing out everything with a mix of pride and excitement, as though I hadn’t grown up watching all of this unfold. But I let him have his moment, nodding along and laughing at his commentary.

“You look different,” he said suddenly, catching me off guard. “In a good way, I mean. More… I don’t know, serious. Like you’ve seen things. Learned things.”

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s a very poetic way of saying I look old, Arthur.”

“No, really,” he insisted, his expression earnest. “It’s like you’ve grown into yourself.”

The comment was unexpected, but it warmed me. “Thanks,” I said softly. “You’ve grown up too. A little.”

He grinned. “Don’t let Charles hear you say that. He still treats me like a kid.”

At the mention of Charles, my stomach twisted, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Arthur must have noticed something, because his tone shifted, gentler now. “I know it’s probably weird, being back here,” he said. “But I think it’s good you came. I think… I think Charles will be happy to see you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him how wrong I thought he was. Instead, I nodded and let him lead me deeper into the paddock.

…

The paddock was chaos, as always. Media rushing everywhere, team members darting back and forth. But Charles couldn’t focus on any of it.

Because she was here.

He had only seen her for a brief moment, just a glimpse of her stepping out of a taxi and into the paddock. But it was enough to bring back everything; every memory, every laugh, every ache of missing her. She looked exactly like she did before, only prettier. 

It had been eight years. Eight years since she left without a goodbye, leaving him to wonder if he had done something wrong, if he had somehow driven her away. And now she was back, as though she had never been gone.

“Arthur,” he muttered, pulling out his phone. His hand shook slightly as he dialed.

His brother answered on the first ring. “Charles? What’s up?”

“What’s up?” Charles hissed, keeping his voice low as he stepped out of the chaos and into a quiet corner. “Arthur, why didn’t you tell me she was coming?”

There was a pause, then a sheepish laugh. “Ah. You’ve seen her already.”

“Yes, I’ve seen her!” Charles snapped, though the anger in his voice was undercut by the nervous energy bubbling beneath. “You should’ve warned me.”

“I didn’t think I needed to,” Arthur said, his tone annoyingly casual. “I thought you’d be happy. It’s been years, Charles. Don’t you want to see her?”

Charles ran a hand through his hair, leaning against the wall. “Of course I want to see her. I just… I don’t know what to say.”

Arthur’s voice softened. “You’ll figure it out. You always did with her.”

…

Arthur had been called away to a meeting, leaving me to wander the place on my own. I found a quiet spot near the Ferrari hospitality area, nursing a coffee and trying to steady the whirlwind of emotions in my chest.

Being back here was surreal, like stepping into a memory I wasn’t sure I wanted to relive. But at the same time, I couldn’t deny the comfort of it - the familiar sounds, the smell of the sea air mixed with fuel, the vibrant energy of race weekend.

I heard footsteps behind me and turned instinctively, my breath catching as I locked eyes with him.

Charles.

He stopped in his tracks, his expression a mix of shock and something I couldn’t place, something that made my chest tighten. For a moment, neither of us moved. The weight of eight years of silence hung in the air between us, heavy and unyielding.

Before I could say anything, he turned abruptly and walked away.

…

The roar of the engines drowned out everything else. I stood on the hospitality terrace, surrounded by fans who were shouting encouragement in a chorus of excitement. The energy was contagious, a reminder of why I had always loved race weekends, even when the rest of Monaco felt stifling.

Arthur had left me to sit with some of his friends, but I didn’t mind being alone. It gave me a chance to take it all in—the track, the sea of red Ferrari merchandise, the sun reflecting off the sleek cars. My eyes kept drifting to one in particular, the red number 16 that seemed to glide through every corner as though the circuit were made for it.

Charles.

I hadn’t seen him since he walked away from me in the paddock earlier. It shouldn’t have surprised me; after all, what could we have possibly said to each other in that moment? But it still stung, the abruptness of it, the way he looked at me like I was a ghost he wasn’t ready to confront.

I shook my head, trying to push the thought away. It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about him. It was about being here, about reconnecting with a part of my life I had left behind.

But as the race unfolded, I couldn’t stop my gaze from following him. Every lap, every overtaking move, every moment of brilliance - it was impossible not to be drawn in. Charles had always been talented, but seeing him now, so focused and in control, was something else entirely. It was breathtaking.

The crowd around me erupted as Charles crossed the finish line, taking the victory in a masterful final lap. People were cheering, waving flags, hugging strangers in celebration. I found myself smiling, caught up in the infectious energy of the moment.

But my smile faltered as I saw him step out of the car. The joy on his face was undeniable, but there was something else—something in the way his eyes scanned the crowd, as though he were looking for someone.

For a split second, I thought he might be looking for me. But then I shook my head, brushing the thought away. Charles had the whole world celebrating him right now. Why would he waste a second of it on someone who had been gone for so long?

Still, as he climbed onto the podium and lifted the trophy, I couldn’t help but feel that same strange pull I had always felt with him. It wasn’t just admiration or pride; it was I only felt with him.

As the celebrations spilled into the paddock, where the Ferrari garage was alive with champagne showers, laughter, I kept my distance, lingering near the back of the crowd as the team surrounded Charles, congratulating him.

Arthur spotted me and made his way over, a grin plastered across his face. “Pretty incredible, huh?” he said, motioning toward the scene.

I nodded. “He’s… he’s amazing,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.

Arthur gave me a look, something between knowing and sympathetic. “You should come to the afterparty,” he said. “We’re all heading to Rimaldi later. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, the thought of being in a room full of people who knew Charles, who had been part of his world all these years, making my stomach twist. “I don’t know…”

“Don’t overthink it,” Arthur said, cutting me off. “It’s just a party. No pressure.”

I forced a smile, but the weight in my chest didn’t ease. “We’ll see,” I said, knowing full well I wasn’t going to go.

***

The party at Rimaldi was everything Charles had come to expect from these celebrations—loud music, overflowing champagne, and a sea of people he barely recognized. The restaurant’s cozy atmosphere had been transformed into a chaotic celebration, with glasses clinking and laughter filling every corner. Fans and acquaintances congratulated him as though they were old friends, slapping him on the back and offering toasts in his honor.

Normally, this was his element. He was good at this—the smiling, the handshakes, the polite small talk that came with being the center of attention. On any other night, he would have been content to let the noise and the crowd carry him, to let it fill the empty spaces he so often ignored. But tonight was different.

Tonight, no matter how many times he raised his glass or laughed along with a joke, he couldn’t shake the gnawing restlessness that had been with him all day. His mind kept drifting, pulled away from the party and back to the one place he couldn’t seem to avoid—her.

She’d looked the same and yet completely different. The years had softened some edges and sharpened others, but it was still her. Y/N, the person who had once been his closest friend, his anchor in a world that often felt overwhelming. He thought he had moved on from wondering why she left, why she cut him off, but seeing her again brought it all back in a rush.

He barely touched his drink, the glass sweating in his hand as he leaned against the edge of the bar. Across the room, Arthur caught his eye, a knowing grin on his face as he raised his own drink in a silent toast. Charles frowned and turned away, pretending not to notice.

“Charles! Congratulations!” A voice pulled him back to the moment. A well-dressed man, someone he vaguely recognized as a sponsor, clapped him on the shoulder. Charles offered a tight smile, exchanging a few polite words before excusing himself.

The truth was, he wasn’t really here. Not mentally. The louder the party grew, the more it grated on him, every laugh and cheer feeling like static in his ears. His thoughts kept circling back to the paddock, to the way her eyes had met his for that brief, electric moment. She had looked surprised, hesitant, but not angry. That was something, at least.

But then she had disappeared, and he hadn’t been able to stop replaying it in his mind—the way she stood there, so poised and composed, and then was gone, swallowed up by the crowd.

By midnight, he couldn’t take it anymore. The laughter and music blurred into background noise as he stood, shaking his head at someone offering him another drink. He muttered something about needing rest and slipped out through the side door, ignoring Arthur’s raised eyebrows as he left. His brother didn’t stop him, though, and Charles suspected Arthur knew exactly where he was going.

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city’s energy winding down after the race. Charles drove aimlessly at first, his hands tight around the steering wheel. The roads he knew so well blurred together as his thoughts raced faster than his car ever could.

He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t even know if she would want to see him. But none of that mattered, because the one thing he did know, the one thought that consumed him, was this:

He needed to see her.

***

The knock at the door startled me.

I glanced at the clock on the bedside table—12:27 a.m. I had been lying on the hotel bed for the past hour, staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the day. Arthur’s invitation, the race, seeing Charles for the first time in years—all of it felt like too much, like I had stepped back into a world I didn’t belong to anymore.

Another knock, firmer this time.

I sat up, my heart racing. Maybe it was Arthur, coming to drag me to the afterparty. Or worse, maybe it was a staff member telling me something had gone wrong with my reservation. My stomach twisted as I padded across the room, hesitating before unlocking the door.

But when I opened it, it wasn’t Arthur or hotel staff standing there.

It was Charles.

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, his hair slightly tousled by the wind. He was dressed casually—dark jeans, a fitted jacket that hinted at his frame—but there was nothing casual about the look in his eyes. They flickered between me and the floor, restless, as though he were trying to piece together why he was even here.

“Hi,” he said finally, his voice quiet but steady.

I stared at him, too stunned to respond at first. “Charles,” I managed after a moment. “What are you doing here?”

His shoulders dropped slightly, like he’d been holding his breath. “Can we go for a drive?”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Now?”

“Yes,” he said, his tone firmer this time, though not unkind. “I need to talk to you. And I can’t do it here.”

I hesitated, glancing back into the room like it held the answer. But there was no answer waiting for me, no excuse strong enough to keep me from following him. “Okay,” I said softly. “Let me grab my coat.”

The streets of Monaco were quieter now, the city winding down after the race. Charles drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting loosely on the gearstick. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the road, and the silence between us felt heavy, charged with everything unsaid.

I kept stealing glances at him, trying to read the expression on his face, but it was unreadable. It wasn’t anger exactly, but it wasn’t calm either. It was something in between—a tension I couldn’t quite place.

Finally, he turned onto a small road overlooking the harbor and parked. He shut off the engine but didn’t move, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared out at the lights reflecting on the water.

“Why did you leave?” he asked finally, his voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder.

I swallowed hard, my hands twisting in my lap. “I didn’t know how to stay,” I said quietly. “Monaco… it wasn’t the same for me as it was for you. It felt fake, like I was living in a place where everything was about appearances and nothing was real. I couldn’t breathe there.”

He turned then, his gaze sharp and searching. “So you left without a word? Without even telling me?”

I met his eyes, feeling the sting of his words. “I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Understand?” he repeated, his voice rising slightly. “Y/N, you were my best friend. I would have done anything for you, but you didn’t even give me the chance.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said softly. “But I had to go. For me.”

Charles shook his head, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Do you know how many times I thought about calling you? About flying to London to find you? But I didn’t, because I told myself that if you wanted to talk to me, you would.”

I clenched my hands together, forcing myself to hold his gaze. “I thought about telling you,” I said softly. “But I was scared. Scared that if I saw you, I wouldn’t be able to leave. And I had to leave, Charles. I didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“I would have let you go if that is what you wanted. I just wish I had known.” He said, looking deep into my eyes. 

I felt a lump rise in my throat. “It wasn’t that simple.”

“Even a text or a quick call would have made the difference, Y/N.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. “You blame me for no contact, but you never reached out either.”

His jaw tightened, his hands gripping the steering wheel again. “Because I didn’t think you wanted me to,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t leave a door open, Y/N. Not for me, not for anyone.”

The anger in his tone cut deep, but beneath it, I could hear something else—hurt. And that was worse.

We fell into silence, the weight of our words hanging heavy in the air. My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady. I looked out at the harbor, the city lights shimmering like distant stars, and took a deep breath.

“Explain it to me,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. “Because I don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve spent eight years not understanding.”

My chest felt tight, the weight of everything we had been avoiding pressing down on me.

“I was scared,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “Scared that if I stayed, I’d lose myself. Scared that if I saw you again, I’d lose the courage to leave. And then… after your dad…” I trailed off, the memory too painful to finish. “I didn’t know how to come back after that.”

Charles’s expression softened, the anger fading into something more vulnerable. “You could have come to me,” he said quietly. “You should have come to me.”

I shook my head, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “And what would I have said? ‘Sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most’? I couldn’t face that, Charles. I couldn’t face you.”

For a moment, neither of us spoke. The only sound was the faint hum of the city outside.

My chest felt tight, my emotions raw and unsteady, as though years of bottled-up feelings had burst open all at once, leaving me vulnerable and exposed. I turned my gaze toward the harbor, the city lights shimmering like scattered stars on the water, their soft glow blurring slightly as tears pricked at my eyes. The stillness of the moment contrasted sharply with the storm raging inside me.

Charles broke the silence, his voice soft but resolute, as though he’d been holding these words back for far too long. “It shouldn’t have been Arthur who invited you back,” he said, his tone laced with frustration and regret. “It should’ve been me. I should’ve been the one to call you.”

The honesty in his voice hit me like a blow to the chest. I turned to him, my breath hitching as his words sank in. The years apart had been a chasm between us, filled with missed chances and unspoken words, and hearing him acknowledge it felt like a bittersweet relief. My throat tightened, and I struggled to find my voice.

“I know,” I said finally, my voice trembling. “But you didn’t call me. And… neither did I call you. We both let it happen.”

Charles’s jaw tightened, and he looked away briefly, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the streetlights outside. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, almost fragile. “I didn’t know how to. After you left, I was confused. I didn’t want to admit how much it hurt. And then it just… felt easier to pretend I didn’t care.”

I let out a shaky breath, the tears I’d been holding back finally slipping free. “The second I got back to Monaco, all I did was look for you,” I admitted, my words coming out in a rush, like I had been holding them in for years. “Everywhere I went, I looked for you. You were everywhere - your face in the streets, your name in conversations, your memory in everything I saw. And yet… you were nowhere.”

I heard Charles inhale sharply, and when I turned back, his eyes were locked on mine, filled with an intensity that made my breath catch. Green and piercing, they were searching for something, some part of me I wasn’t sure I still had to give. Vulnerability. Hope. Regret. I saw all of it reflected in his gaze, and it was almost too much.

“I didn’t know if I wanted to see you again,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know if I could. But now that you’re here…” He shook his head, his expression softening into something raw and earnest. “Now that you’re here, I can’t imagine letting you go again.”

The space between us seemed to disappear in an instant. Charles reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped my face, his thumb brushing against my cheek in a way that was both tender and desperate. His touch was hesitant at first, as though he was afraid I might pull away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Then, before I could say anything, his lips met mine.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like we were both testing the waters of something so fragile it might shatter under the weight of our emotions. But it deepened quickly, carrying years of longing, frustration, and unspoken love. It was messy and imperfect, tears mingling with laughter, but it felt like home in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

When we finally pulled apart, Charles didn’t move far. His forehead rested against mine, his breath warm against my skin. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though grounding himself in the closeness between us, before murmuring, “I don’t want to lose you again. Not ever.”

My heart pounded, each beat echoing the promise in his words. I closed my eyes, letting the moment wash over me, before whispering back, “You won’t.”

In that moment, the weight of the past seemed to lift, leaving something lighter in its place. We weren’t perfect, and neither was this, but it was enough. It was us.

[hellodarling1357]

More Than A Moment: Part 1 - Cassian x Reader (AU!)

What? A post? A whole new fic? After months of broken promises (rip me)?

I sporadically got the inspo to write today and this idea just flowed on out and all but wrote itself!

Is this a stand alone? A multi-part (I hope so)?

Who knows!

Either way, I hope you enjoy 🥰

Summary: After a drunken night between friends, just friends, nothing more, Y/N and Cassian’s lives end up changing forever. But maybe not in the way they had originally expected.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Cassian!” You shout through the door, one fist pounding on the wooden frame as the other, hidden away in your coat pocket, held tightly to what had felt like a lifeline since you had raced to the store just over an hour ago.

“Cassian! I swear to god if you don’t open the door right now…” You took a step back as your fist met the air, the words dying in your throat as a girl with sleep mussed hair, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that you knew belonged to Cassian, stared back at you with a look of distaste.

“What?” The girl asked, stifling a yawn as her eyes blatantly looked you up and down, a smirk spreading across her lips as she took in your frazzled appearance. “We’re a little busy here, so…”

You blinked at her before pushing past and making your way inside the small apartment, ignoring the girl’s protest as you beelined for Cassian’s room, stopping momentarily as the door opened before you could reach it.

“Y/N. Hey,” the man in question was straightening out a tight black t-shirt, having clearly put on the closest items of clothing he could reach. “I didn’t expect to see you today, especially not at 8 am on a Sunday morning…”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, alright. Could this not have waited until a more reasonable time?”

“Cass, please…”

Clearly picking up on the slight plea in your voice, he nodded, a slight furrow to his brow as he studied you a moment longer before turning to the girl who remained bristling by the front door.

“Hey,” he started, beckoning the girl towards him, you cringed as you took a seat on the couch, not wanting to be a part of the scene that was about to unfold. “So last night was fun, yeah? But I think there’s a few things I need to deal with here so we should probably wrap this up for now?”

“Oh? So you want me to leave?” You rolled your eyes as she clung to him, battering her lashes in hopes of changing his mind as he led her back into his room to help her collect her things, not missing the daggers she sent your way when Cassian’s back was turned.

“It’s not that I want you to leave… But I’ll call you. Soon, alright?”

“You better.”

Barely managing to conceal your scoff you busied yourself with your phone as she pulled him down into a lingering kiss.

“Alright, well get home safe and thanks again for last night…” Cassian trailed off and your attention flickered over in disbelief as he clearly tried to scramble for the poor girl’s name.

“Rebecca. My name’s Rebecca.” Her icy tone was a stark contrast as she moved out of his grasp.

“Of course, I know your name. How could I forget? I was just deciding whether I wanted to start calling you babe or baby.”

You didn’t attempt to hide the disgust at your friend as he shot the girl a charming smile that had her swooning as she said her goodbyes - all iciness melting into a flirtatiously shy smile as she stared up at him from under heavy lashes.

“You really can be a pig sometimes, you do realise that?” You said without looking up from your phone once Cassian had shut the door behind the girl.

“What?” He asked, voice laced in indignation as he slumped onto the couch beside you.

“Oh I dunno, do I call you babe or baby? Of course I remember your name, random-girl-I’ll-never-actually-call.” You lowered your voice into a mockery of his own before being met with a pillow to your face as Cassian got up and headed towards the bathroom.

“Hey, I just got rid of a perfectly nice girl for you. No need for the disrespect. What’s so important anyway? You know I love to see you and all that, but usually not at this time.” He leant against the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he stared at you waiting for an answer.

Right.

You had almost forgotten that you were here for a reason other than witnessing one of your closest friends be a complete dick to a girl he’d spent the previous night with.

“Oh… Um yeah it’s all good. Get dressed or whatever then we can chat.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment longer before shrugging and returning to the bathroom. You slumped back as soon as you were out of sight, squashing the pillow Cassian had previously whacked you with against your face as your thoughts raced through your head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

By the time Cassian was ready, you had had enough time to work yourself into a somewhat frantic state as you paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to even bring up the reason why you had almost knocked down his door on a seemingly normal Sunday.

“Jesus, what’s up with you this morning?” Your head whipped around to face Cassian, freezing mid-pace to stare at him like a deer in headlights. When the only reply you could muster was the very unsubtle opening and closing of your mouth, Cassian let out a sigh as he reached for his shoes. “Well, seeing that you appear to have a whole heap of pent up energy, we’re walking to the cafe down the street. Your shout for waking me up and prematurely ending what was sure to be a very satisfying Sunday morning.”

You scrunched your nose but nodded all the same as you silently headed towards the door, missing the concerned look on Cassian’s face as his eyes trailed your retreating figure before he jumped up to follow you out.

——

The ten minute walk was silent except for the slight crunch of autumn leaves under foot as the pair of you narrowly avoided the early risers who were jogging past along the footpath and manoeuvred around the copious stream of families with young children enjoying the crisp morning air; your heart rate soared as you tried to control your breathing

Cassian managed to score a secluded table tucked away by the window, thanking the waiter for the menus and water as you stared past him in a daze, your mind reeled of how to approach telling him what had happened, what had resulted from…

A large hand waving in front of your face had you blinking in surprise.

“Y/N?”

“Yep. Hi.”

Cassian gave you another quizzical look but was halted from saying anything else as the waiter returned, asking about coffee and food orders.

“Just a long black for me, thanks.”

You could hear your heartbeat and wouldn’t be surprised if everyone around you could as well.

“Y/N?” Cassian gave you a soft kick under the table, pulling your attention to the waiter who was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, um… Just a latte. Thank you,” Shit. Could you even have coffee now? “Wait. I mean, no. Just a tea. Peppermint, please. If you have it. Sorry.” Your voice trailed after the waiter as he nodded and walked off with a shake of his head. So far, this was not going well.

“Alright, what has gotten into you?” The immediate retort of ‘um you?’ was held back by a bite of your tongue. “You better not be here confessing your love for me. I mean we spoke about this, right? It was just a one off, drunken night between two friends who both happen to be very attractive.”

Some of the tension left your shoulders as you offered a small smile in appreciation of Cassian’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re not actually in love with me are you?” You rolled your eyes at the slight panic in his expression, deciding not to take it as an insult. “I mean, I love you, but, you know, as a friend. Because we’re friends. We’re all friends; me, you, Rhys, Az, Feyre, Mor…”

“Cassian,” you let the smile grow a bit as he prattled on. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh, thank god. No offence.” He offered you a guilty looking smile which softened as he nodded in encouragement for you to continue.

“But I did want to talk about that night…” You trailed off, trying to gauge Cassian’s response as he quirked his head to the side and furrowed his brows in confusion. Well, here it goes. Taking in a deep breath, you reached into your pocked and placed the pregnancy test on the table.

“Cass, I’m pregnant.”

----------

I have so many ideas for this and how I want to continue it but would love to hear your thoughts!!

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13—terms of endearment for their s/o

Request: okkk so hie! Celeste, can you please do what svt might call their s/o? Like you know honey, sweetie? Btw I love it when you use these in response to asks lmao.

A/N#1: Aww, my love, you're making me blush! I guess I’ll just have to keep them coming lol. Btw this took longer than it should've. I really don't know what I'm doing—

A/N#2: Jagi, jagiya, yeobo, and other Korean endearment terms MIGHT be the most used and common among the Korean members. I’d like to add Joshua and Vernon here as well. So here, I’m only including other terms they might use, aside from the Korean ones. Though it's very unlikely they would use them, and if they did, other than baby and babe, none of the members would likely use the others I mentioned—except for Joshua, ofc, because, yk, he’s got the vibes. But IF they did, those might just be the ones! lol. And Jun and Minghao's should be it.

Seungcheol: "babe," or maybe, "cutie"

Jeonghan: "honey" or, "baby" with that smile.

Joshua: Definitely, “love,” I can bet on this!!! Other than that, terms like "angel," or “darling,” can be used by him too.

Jun: "baby" or "baobèi."

Hoshi: Something bubbly, like "sweetheart," "babieee," or "babe."

Wonwoo: Maybe, "love," "dear," or "princess."

Woozi: Probably use something like "babe" or "baby."

Dokyeom: "baby," or "babe."

Mingyu: Something like, "bae," "cutie," "babe," or even "princess."

Minghao: He would likely use something like, "tiánxīn" or "bǎobǎo" (maybe, "bǎobèi" too)

Seungkwan: "honey," "baby," or "babe." why am I seeing this video here TT

Vernon: "love," "babe," or "bae."

Dino: "baby," "babe," or "darling."

[glamourscat]

౨ৎKISS? OIKAWA TOORU pt4

time skip! Oikawa | epilogue | high school exes to strangers to... read to find out ;) PART 1 | 2 | 3

August 10th, 2024

The Parisian air was warm and buzzing with excitement. The Argentina volleyball team had managed to qualify for the final match in the Olympics. Familiar faces filled the stands. For example, he could recognize a familiar head of red hair, accompanied by the one who hardly smiled, even though he was clearly excited for this. They were there.

Oikawa’s hand touched the ball, and everything else drowned out, the noises, the screams, the cheers. It was just him, the net and the ball. The sensation of flying for a split second, that feeling of almost touching the sky. A dream so far, yet not really. Ball after ball, touch after touch, tingling sensations in his hand.

Everything was blurry until he felt his heart thumping in his ears. His teammates were cheering in the background, but he was confused. His head turned toward the scoreboard. They had won. 28-26. And suddenly, everything made sense. His eyes started to tear up against his will. He was laughing and crying at the same time, his head turning toward the stands. His brown eyes searched, almost desperately, for someone.

You.

Your eyes met his, shining with pride, that smile lighting up your whole face. That grin is so familiar yet nostalgic at the same time. And all of a sudden, he was running. He didn’t know why, or rather, he did. He knew damn well why. He just hadn’t expected it to happen now. Right now. But it was the right moment.

He rushed toward the stands where you were seated, ready to jump over and bear hug you, had you not anticipated his move and met him halfway, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“I am so proud of you, my love,” you whispered softly, a smile on your face, your lips brushing his ear.

And for a moment, he thought he could have died right then and there, and everything would have been alright because he had you in his arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“So, I know that we had some timing issues, but now we are here. Thank you for showing up, Oikawa, second-time Olympic champion. How does it feel to win another gold? I’m sure you must be happy.” The interviewer asked.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not,” he said with a small laugh. “It’s certainly satisfying. A result of my hard work, for sure, but my teammates were also a key part of Argentina’s success today.”

“Of course. Well, congratulations to all of you. Do you have any plans for tonight? A victory like this must be celebrated, no?” The woman smiled.

Oikawa couldn’t help but grin, his head tilted just enough to reveal the faint, poorly hidden mark on his neck. Maybe on purpose, maybe not. 

“Well, yes, I do. I’m going to celebrate with my fiancée,” he said with a smug smile, staring straight into the camera, showing off the newest addition to his hand, a thin gold engagement band.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One hour earlier

“Marry me,” he whispered in your ear as you embraced. His adrenaline still high, from the game, from running to you, from the victory and what he had just blurted out. 

Your body froze. You took a double take.

“I beg your pardon?” you asked, flabbergasted.

“You heard me. Marry me. Be my wife, my life partner, my companion. Marry me,” he said again, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his tone as he observed your shocked expression. Did you not want this? Was it too early? It had been almost four years since you two got back together. Fuck. Maybe he should have waited longer. But he wants nothing more than to make you his wife already—

“Yes.”

Your voice pulled him out of his overthinking spiral.

“What?” he asked, now the one in shock.

“I said yes, silly,” you chuckled softly. “I just… wasn’t expecting it. You caught me off guard.”

His eyes widened, lips curling into a grin as he started laughing and suddenly, your head was against his chest again as you two were hugging again tightly.

“Damn you…” he muttered against your skin, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Let’s go to the hotel room. Like, now. I need to give you the ring, definitely give you a much much, better proposal and something else too…” he murmured, a mischievous, knowing grin spreading across his face as he grabbed your hand.

You both took off, laughing as you ran off the court.

“But your inter—”

“I don’t care. They can wait. Right now, I need some quality time with my fiancée.”

a/n: surprise!! :) since you were tagged in the last 2 parts/loved the story, i tagged you all, i hope you don't mind <3 TAGS: @justanotherweeb666 @liquidcatt @mikkaiser @sophxluvv @hakuwaii

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[darklove9314-blog]

A Rose Without Thorns: an Elucien Fanfic

Hello everyone and welcome to Day 2 of SJM Romance week, Prompt: First Fight. I hope everyone enjoys the story.

Synopsis: When tensions rise between Lucien and Elain, will a heated argument turn into something more? . NSFW: for hate sex.

Rage and fury bubbled up within her, threatening to escape as she slammed the door shut, shoving her back into it as her throat bobbed in frustration, That arrogant, smug, son of a bi-

An aggravated knock sounded at the door, the repetitiveness of it driving her up the wall as she ground her teeth. the beast she tried to keep buried underneath her flesh finally breaking free as she threw the door open revealing Lucien's furious gaze before it flickered to her own. He made his way past her, not bothering to ask for entrance as the fury at the intrusion welled up inside of her.

She slammed the door again, challenge in her gaze, daring him to say anything, to do anything as the fire in his eyes threatened to consume her.

Good. She wanted that fury unleashed on her, she was tired of everyone being silent around her. so afraid to harm her that they treated her like a porcelain doll instead of a person. sometimes she wished they would just let her shatter. No one ever had, not until-

"Care to explain?" He snapped making her spine straighten in response.

"Why should I explain? I'm a grown woman with my own wants and desires. No matter what this bond thinks is going to happen between us means very little to me. I am my own person, I have desires of my own and if I wish to channel those desires it is no business of yours.” She shot back at him, twisting her hands in frustration.

He took a step closer, forcing her back to the door once more, but she refused to back down. She had had enough of this, enough of this tension between them. It was finally time to let it snap.

"Do you want to fuck him?" He asked her. His voice low, almost primal.

She had expected this question. Had expected it the moment Lucien had saw them kiss. What was worse was that when she had done it she had thought Azriel was the male that she had wanted, her desire for him was so potent that she couldn't help but try a taste of him. But when they had kissed, when she had finally given into her fantasies and desires for him. it was-It had not been how she imagined it would be.

She had expected a lot from that kiss, had expected to have this earth shattering, world turning experience. She thought when their lips touched, it would make sense. Her losing Grayson, her broken engagement, all of it. She had expected the kiss to put everything into perspective, to set everything right and give her a direction, a purpose. She had been naive to expect anything more than what it was.

She should have known that Azriel was not the right person for her, that no matter how much peace and quiet he gave her, it would never be enough to settle her, because deep down she knew silence wasn’t always a good thing. And that made her so furious that she could barely speak.

I don't want the cauldron to be right. She thought glancing into Lucien's livid gaze as she squared her shoulders, preparing to strike him with her words once more.

"You have no right to ask me that. I can fuck who I want to fuck. If I take a lover in your absence that is no business of yours and yet you still feel the need to sit there and lecture me about wanting and desiring others but what about Vassa?"

Lucien's jaw clenched, that heated gaze concentrating every ounce of that intensity on her, turning her body near molten from that stare alone.

"What about Vassa, mate?"

She stiffened,

"Don't call me that."

"Why not? Why shouldn't I call you what you are to me?" He challenged her, taking a step forward, yet she refused to take a step back. If he wanted to intimidate her, fine, but she refused to be seen as prey any longer.

"I'm nothing to you. Don't you get it? and don't change the subject. I've seen how you look at her."

A low chuckle escaped Lucien's lips, giving Elain pause as Lucien glanced down at her. His focus solely on her.

"How exactly do I look at her?" He inquired, stepping so close that her back was pressed to the door as she could have sworn that his fingers twitched towards her. Her nipples pebbling in response at that voice. That power, hers wanting to come out to play. To see who would dominate who. But she wouldn’t even give him a taste of that until she knew where they stood.

"You gaze upon her as if she's a goddess walking this earth." She sneered hearing his laughter to her response.

"I will admit, being attracted to Vassa would be easier, She's a beautiful and fierce female who anyone would be lucky to have in their bed and despite our quarrels, we have a lot in common. It would be easy to fall into bed with her, to fall in love with her knowing that she would return that love, however -" He stepped closer, his gaze drinking her in as her fury at his words began to flare, "I have no desire to fuck her. to be with her. She's not the female i dream about, she's not the female who i want to taste, she’s definitely not the female whose legs I want wrapped around my head. The one I want to sink my cock deep into-“ he rasped, their hurried breaths mingling together as desire stronger than she’d ever known pooled between her legs.

He closed the space between them, daring to push the bounds of their separation and she let him, Gods and Mother above, she let him.

Pressing his cock to her center, letting her feel every inch of desire he had for her as he leaned in close, his mouth nearly a whisper away from her ear as those clever hands of his weaved into her hair, tilting her head back to expose her to him as he breathed.

"She's not you."

She erupted, her lips colliding with his own as she let her primal instincts drive her. She was tired of suppressing them. Tired of driving them down to adhere to everyone’s expectations when all she wanted to do was unleash herself.

As if sensing the direction of her thoughts, Lucien slammed Elain into the door, his desire evident as she yanked his hair back wanting to deepen their kiss. If he wanted to play these games then they would play.

His hand found her throat. applying the slightest bit of pressure as she moaned into his mouth, the pressure felt so delicious that Elain couldn't help but revel in it.

"Like that?" Lucien whispered between her lips. never taking his off of her.

She refused to answer, wanting nothing more than for him to shut the fuck up and take her like he wanted to, but after years of waiting for this, she knew the fucker would make her work for this.

He chuckled, the sound sending heat between her thighs as if she hadn't been wet enough, as his other hand that had not been occupying her throat went to her nipple, twisting it through the fabric of her bodice as she moaned loudly into his mouth. Her nipples pebbling at his touch as he pinched her other nipple and rolled it between his fingers making them stay nice and perky for him.

"Answer me." He commanded, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Yes." She hissed out, cursing his name for making her feel this way.

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Mate." She hissed at him. damning him yet again.

"Good Girl." He mused, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine at the words as he pressed a kiss to the side of her throat making it bob. Reminding her that he could be gentle when he wanted to be.

He inhaled her scent, exhaling at the desire he smelt from in between her legs as he pressed her to the door, palming her breast as a growl of frustration escaped from him.

"These clothes are in my way." He growled ripping the top of her bodice as her breast spilled out for him.

Before she could even breath a word about the dress, his hands lifted her thighs wrapping them, around him as he pressed his erection to her center, letting her feel just how much he wanted her.

Her head was heady, she could barely think as his hands moved to underneath her skirts, moving her undergarments and ripping them off in one fluid motion, leaving nothing of hers inaccessible to him as his clever fingers roamed over her folds, exploring the wetness there. Elain moaned from the fire his touch provided, his hand warming the most pleasurable parts of her.

"So wet for me, my mate, tell me, were you ever this wet for him?"

"Gods." She muttered as he pinched her clint rolling it between his fingers as she cried out in pleasure.

"Answer me."

"N-No."

"No what? He asked, drawing her orgasm out from her and denying her every time she was close.

"No, he never made me as wet as you."

"I might have to put that to the test."

"What are you-"

Before she could answer, the rest of her dress was ripped from her, her body lain on the floor as he bared the rest of her to him, leaving her on full display for him, remaining fully clothed in the process.

Keeping her legs open, Lucien knelt before her, moving his head between her legs as the silky strands of his hair brushed against them. he spread her wide making sure he had full access to her pussy as he purred in delight,

His head lowered, meeting her gaze with an intensity she had never seen before as she shattered underneath the first stroke of his tongue.

Making her cry out from how good his tongue felt on her, her nails raked against the wooden floors. Pawing at them for dear life as Lucien continued his exploration only stopping when he felt sated with how much of her wetness he could gather in his mouth. her moans and pleads for him to fuck her filling the room.

"Lucien, please." She begged,

"Please, what?" He taunted,

"Please. fuck me."

He pulled away roughly, tearing her from her orgasm as he stood up, his cock straining against his leathers, making sure he was out of her reach, as she glanced up at him, confused as she questioned,

"What are you-"

"Stand up."

She didn't know why she obeyed as she stood naked and waiting in front of Lucien as he circled around her, observing her as her heart pounded in response. She hated it, Hated the pleasure that he could draw out of her without even trying.

"Hands on the door." He commanded as her nipples hardened in response.

She turned back to the door, leaning against it, as she heard Lucien come up behind her, getting her into position and kneeling her aching body foreword so he could display the full picture of her desire.

His hands went to her hair again, pulling it back as he lowered his voice asking,

"Is the Shadowsinger home?"

"Yes-Yes, why?" She breathed, her core tightening at his words as she felt his lips at her ear, hearing the buckle of his leathers as he undid them before he answered,

"Because I want him to hear what happens when us Autumn Court males fuck the females that are ours."

Before she could respond, his cock drove up inside of her, making her feel every inch of him as she cried out in pleasure. She could barely even remember his name as Lucien rode her with his cock, her pussy gladly accepting him as the door rattled in response, making sure everyone outside of it could hear them.

Her cries turned to sobs as her pussy took more and more of him, she had never had this big before, had never felt so full before as her pussy clamped around him soaking his cock with her desire as her pussy clenched around him, her orgasm erupting from her lips as he continued to pound into her mercilessly.

"Fuck." He exclaimed, as she felt the splashes of his own orgasm inside of her, promising herself that she would ask Madaja for a tonic later as he filled her to the brim. His seed seeping onto her legs as her body ached from the pleasure he had thrusted upon it.

He pulled away, shoving his cock back in his leathers and buckling himself up as he leaned into her, the evidence of what they did between her legs, dripping onto the hardwood floor as he said,

"You're mine, Elain Archeron, just like i am yours. remember that the next time you want to fuck anyone else ." He told her, as he left the room, leaving her stunned, wondering what she was going to do next.

@sjmromanceweek

[theelderhazelnut]

Rise of The Villains: The Advocate

Warnings: mentions of death

Words count: 1.5k

Pairing(s): None

Characters: Quan Chi, Raiden, Sonya Blade, Johnny Cage, Cassie Cage

Summary: Quan Chi is back from the dead, but his punishment is far from over. The Special Forces have captured him to use for their own purposes.

Author’s Note: Here it is! This series is best described as an AU of Rise Of The Villains (An au of an au lol). This takes place somewhere between MKX and MK11, and is not canon compliant. ALSO, writing from his pov is the medicine I didn’t know I needed.

Writing Taglist: @cassietrn @raresvtm @cloudofbutterflies92 @mids-stupid-shit @thedragonholder @tommyarashikage @malicedragoness @afraidofrabbits @ash-shark @darialovesstuff @bloody-arty-myths @vivilovespink @starneko123 @inafieldofdaisies @chaosrealm @voidika @aceghosts @euryalex @elderglocks @averytiredbitch @strangefable

Returning from the dead wasn’t really a good idea; at least not when it was about me. The silence among the corpses and, as they say, damned souls was where I felt most comfortable in.

Death was never an issue for me. I knew the rules of this board game. I knew which pawns to move and exactly which houses to move them to. And I would always stand up with a proud smile, and shake hands with death with pure confidence.

But this time was different. This time, the game was new. I didn’t know the rules. This time, Raiden slammed my fist down onto the table.

The path to the main headquarters was more crowded than I would usually prefer. Living eons in the Netherrealm had forged my mind to fit well with that incomparable isolation among jagged cliffs and eroded souls, so now it was doomed to endure the endless, lively chatter of humans everywhere. Every single one of them minded their own particular business. They blended together; out of my control.

I leaned my temple against the car’s window while my handcuffed hands subconsciously stroked the fabric of my uniform pants, silently getting accustomed to them.

“No longer allowed to open portals to your destination?” The Special Forces agent asked, his raspy voice was nearly unreadable.

My chest clenched. “But, still, I will survive a car accident.”

His green eyes lingered on me through the rear view mirror. My lips slowly stretched into a smirk. That was the fear I knew with my flesh and blood. At least something from home accompanied me this morning.

After about half an hour, a dark vast border of a fortified wall emerged from the horizon. I shifted to the middle seat to take a better look through the front window. As far as the eye could see, the wall stood persistently, stoically protecting what was behind. As we drove closer, I noticed that it wasn’t actually a wall. It consisted of angular observation decks, and tiny dots of light leaked through the concrete.

The winding road lead us towards an enormous gate. And soon, we were among armored vehicles and hurried soldiers. I got out of the van. The cold wind whipped my face. Immediately, the trigger of another round of headache came forward.

“This new face is in the biggest spotlight today! I’m envious.” Jonathan Cage nearly shouted, grinning from ear to ear while he wheeled a wheelchair.

“As you should.” I replied. The last thing I needed was him rubbing his hatred for me all over me with an unnatural cheerful tone.

“You even ordered first-class?” He whistled, and tapped the back of the chair. I sat down, and immediately, two soldiers tied my wrists, chestand ankles to the chair.

Mr. Cage wheeled me on a wheelchair through the hallways which were mostly constructed by metal, I presumed. The pale fluorescent lights leaking through the stiff folds of the ceiling and the floor were bright enough to bring any creature back to their senses immediately.

As we reached the very end of one of the many hallways, a metal gate slid open, and we entered a much darker room. It took my eyes a whole several minutes to adjust to the abrupt change of lighting.

“Here he is!” Mr. Cage announced.

Raiden’s white robe quickly caught my attention once he stepped into the dim light. His straw hat shadowed half of his face, per usual. The source of all of my miseries was a few meters away from me, but I was forced to sit on a wheelchair and just watch.

“After eons, you will make considerable use for the realms.” He began firmly. “Even though you are meamt to suffer the consequences of the long list of your crimes.”

“What makes you so certain of that?” The words came out without my knowledge. I let out a sigh and shrugged. “You couldn’t possibly think of a more easier punishment?”

“You are in the Special Forces’ grasp, Quan Chi.” Raiden raised his voice slightly as he repeated his words.

“And as your punishment, you will be working as a secret agent.” A female voice continued. General Sonya Blade stepped forward into the light, shoulders square and hands behind her back.

I would never predict this moment in million years. I held a hysterical laugh behind a sudden burst of a smirk. “You truly are so desperate, lord Raiden. Have you finally succeeded to kill your champions one after another?”

His nostrils flared, his lips creasing in a pout. “In fact, I have always been anticipating this moment to have your cooperation. And it has finally arrived, but not in a situation you certainly desired.” He spoke nonchalantly.

“And if I refused?”

“Your soul will forever be banished to the in-between.”

The blood in my veins froze. Raiden had never made such an existential threat to me, so now this was a sign of a gigantic dog on a leash, ready to be released.

“And how this current moment differs from being banished? Granted with the chance to live among humans is supposed to be…nurturing? Rewarding?” Fortunately, my voice remained tamed and neutral.

General blade dodged my teasing question firmly. “After a medical checkup, you will receive a set of essential gears. And you are also obligated to pass the shooting, and driving training.”

+++

The walk through the hallways wasn’t strange at all, having all eyes on me and all the necks craned up to take a look at the necromancer was quite a familiar sight.

In the inventory, a female voice parroted Mr. Cage’s words.

“They’re being too kind to you, baldy.” Cassie Cage stood up from her seat, sauntering to the circular table at the center. “Guns? That’s too much for you.”

“I am already too much for you soldiers.” I pronounced the last word slightly more emphasized, as though it was a rude insult.

“Talk after you survived a gunfight.”

I rolled my eyes and neared the table. My gaze roamed around the various weapons - which were mostly guns - arranged neatly under the intense fluorescent light. I had to squint a little.

“Have you ever touched a gun before?” She probably had guessed the answer, yet she seemed annoyed by the obligation to ask it aloud.

“After eons of studying, there still remains many fields I haven’t even peeped into.” I picked up a black pistol. “Do I have freedom in my choice?”

Ms. Cage shrugged. “You gotta learn how to handle all of these sooner or later. Most of them at least.” She crossed her arms. “Pick a pistol and a rifle for now. And let’s just get over with this training crap.”

+++

The training session was more of an issue than I had thought. That was the moment I learned aiming with a pistol is considerably more difficult than shooting a large green skull from your bare hands.

One more cylindrical obstacle hitting my shin was enough for my rage to flare. I tripped over and fell onto my elbows. My fist clenched around the pistol. It was all its fault, distracting me from numerous moving obstacles. My chest vibrated from the low growl that escaped my throat.

I turned onto my side, and opened my palms. The heat of rage coursed through my arms, morphing into several shooting skulls. The massive twirling cylinder staggered backwards, the background now visible through the burnt hole in it. The long shafts attached to it went flying in the air. A few of them struck the monkey bars. Targets on the wall collapsed, slamming against the floor with a thunderous clash.

Commander Cage slurped her drink. “Wow.”

I took a deep breath before sitting up on my knees.

“Where’ja wanna get the money from?” She vaguely gestured to the mess before her. “Come on, you’ll perform better on the streets. Like a dog chasing cars.”

“At least I don’t have a golden leash given by my mother.” I forced a smirk on my bitter expression. My chest heaved with my heavy breaths.

She shot me a glare before leaving the training room.

I stood on my feet, and adjusted my uniform. A part of me admitted that she was right; I was now going to chase cars and people like a dog. But since when did they collected the courage to spit facts in my face?

I gripped the fabric of my pants and stared at nothing on the floor. I was only one step away from tangibly tasting this new life. Everything was going smoothly around me and against me. Instead of wrapping it all around my finger, I could just sit there and have a young soldier order me here and there.

I stood up and walked up to the metal gate. At least I could show them why they made a wrong move by making me their secret agent.

[atinycelery]

Cameron as Lockwood was amazing and the show writing definitely had him analyzed really well what Lockwood would've been like if he was older, instead of 15 as he was and Lucy being 14 and George being also 15 at the beginning of the book series

I'm a sucker for the early teens books characters because those things that they changed and/or wrote to become more dramatic and/or didn't land as well as they would've if they weren't on tv....is because they're early teens in the books

This hollowed out grieving boy will not have the mind for anything else other than what he thinks is essential at that age; his company, his house, his livelihood, his looks and his friends. He's had enough at 15

It took him longer to reach the romantic attachment conclusions not because he didn't realize his feelings; being a ghost hunter means you gotta emphatize and understand why ghosts are acting the way they did, even if he didn't go as far Lucy did. It's because he's 15

Those awkward gaps in the books where Lucy was doing more than she should and we were all like, pls react the way a normal guy who likes a girl would, and he didn't? That's because he's literally 15/16. He doesn't know how to react like that. He was mad at Lucy for going against his orders as her employer because he didn't know how else best to react. Yet. Best he can do is try to cheer you up awkwardly with "you know I'd die for you". And he was super sincere when he said that.

He's trying to stay a company afloat at 15 and possibly younger than that when he first met George. He doesn't have the mind capacity for anything else. His energy is spent so much on being on top of things as the leader, appearing charming as he best know, getting as much good cases as they can, keeping the company and himself fed and sheltered; see how he treated Lucy in THB-- it's because he thinks what he did was right; he thinks keeping Lucy alienated was a way to keep her safe, he employed Holly specifically because he wanted the company to work smoothly, better

The kid who basically went suicidal mode because he didn't know how to deal with Lucy leaving the co. had probably just turned 16/17ish. They've only reached the age they were in the show i think, in the latter part of the books series

Yes angsty and capable 17/18 y/o Lockwood is great but can you imagine being in a younger time in your life and doing what he was trying to do? That's angsty younger, and capable 15ish y/o kid

It's not a vast difference in age, but I would sooner send a 17 year old kid to buy groceries than a 15 yr old if I had the choice

The age factor messes me up everytime because Lockwood lost his family and he's managing a company at younger than 15. Lucy left home at 14. 14. She lost her colleagues/friends at younger than that. That awkward, no filter George is 15. That kid who's also trying his best to manage the food intakes in the house the way he knew how to before Holly arrived was in his early teens

You turn to look at Flo and she's just a little bit older than the trio. Flo is older than Lockwood in the books iirc but still probably younger than show Flo. And she was already traumatized and messed up. I actually think show Flo is more sane than book Flo (maybe show Flo had better coping mechanisms lol)

Things make more sense in the show with 17/18/18ish characters managing the company. Normal kids are about to leave school at that age. 17ish are not adults but they're old enough that it's believable and not alarming that they're living together, they're fighting together with no adults supervision,

but imagine being younger than that...and no adult supervision, and it's not merely that it's all shenanigans, it's that they're early teens kids trying their best the way they know how too. In other words, too young it makes me wanna cry. If i was a character in the books, I'd adopt them all

To reiterate the wildness of it all, imagine you're agreeing to sending your 15yo brother and his friends to a haunted mansion where the owner is a homicidal geezer who wanted ro silence them by pretending to ask them to solve the haunting of his mansion WHERE PEOPLE HAVE ACTUALLY LOST THEIR LIVES

That's book one.

Do you realize how skrunkly and the extent of out of depthness they all had in the books because of how much younger they were in them and i wanna hug them sm

[starman-john-tracy]

Garden Party Gale [RP]

@socialitesleuth:

The tension in the library was palpable. Penelope had sat herself far enough away from the crowd of guests so they couldn't hear her conversation. It hadn't been entirely purposeful at first but Penelope was glad of it upon hearing the latest update. It provided little comfort. Outside, Penelope's well kept, neatly arranged gardens battled against the thunderous winds of the storm. Inside, Penelope herself was beginning to battle the rising tide of fury as she considered the implications of what John had been relaying. "Stolen or escaped... I'm not sure which outcome I'd prefer." Penelope mumbles, half to herself but loud enough for John to hear. "Would Thunderbird One be able to fly through a storm like this? I know Scott is a mighty fine pilot, but I wouldn't want him to risk himself, or the ship, if it wasn't safe enough. The same goes for you too." John's suggestion of bringing himself down was ludicrous, and Penelope had to agree with EOS's attempt to question the sensibility of the idea, but she knows that look. She knows that grin, and she knows there would be very little point in arguing a case against it if her only argument was because she thought it wasn't safe. But, with Parker still busy tending to the guests, Penelope figures there's little alternative she'd be able to find. After all, going out completely alone on the wild goose chase would be just as dangerous an idea as John's was. It would undeniably be better for the two of them to brave the storm together. Forget strength in numbers; Penelope's current concern regarded safety. Her eyes find the spider-web crack, stark against the pristine condition of the inner frames of the window. How long would it be before the glass took another hit? How long until the storm damaged more of the manor, possibly worse? Depending on how long the rogue drone could sustain itself, it could be hours before the storm is over. They had to act, and they had to act fast. "Are you absolutely certain you can make it down without putting yourself in too much danger?" It mattered little that John had already given her those reassurances; Penelope would be concerned until his feet were firmly set on the ground — which she realises was now a definite actuality. The drone had to be found and so the word 'no' was no longer an option. She stands from her seat, dusts off her skirt and heads over to Parker and the gathered crowd. Parker's initially hesitant but understandable once Penelope explains the situation and plan. Once she's adequately reassured him, she leaves the library and ascends one of the manor's staircases — if they're going storm chasing, appropriate attire would be needed. As she walks, Penelope offers John a nod; a go-ahead for their plan. "Alright, but be careful! When you're Earthside, meet me at the garages. I'll bring the car around."

"Brains over-engineers everything." John flashes her that TracyTM smile, all white teeth and endless charm. "The Space Elevator should have no trouble with the current meteorological conditions." It might be a bumpier ride than John's used to, but he's got no doubt at all that Brains' engineering will land him safely. In fact, he seems to have been more shaken by the crack in Penelope's glass than at the thought of plummeting at 7.8 kilometers per second through a force ten gale.

Eos, busy clucking at him from up on the ceiling, seems more dubious, but, for a sentient AI who once nearly murdered him in open space, John thinks she worries far too much. He chivvies her into her mobile unit, and clips the circular device safely to his belt.

"Eta seventeen minutes." He tells Penelope, "see you on the ground."

John checks that he's finished sending out the bright, IR branded weather warnings to Penelope's guest list, then steps into the Space Elevator, flicking his fingers deftly over it's controls. The ride down from orbit is certainly rough, the whole cabin shaking around him, but it only ranks somewhere low in the top twenty of the worst reentries John's ever done. He sets the elevator neatly down on her lawn, as close as he can to the garages, and strides out; all long legs, pointy elbows and efficiency.

"Penelope." He greets with his hair swept back across his forehead, the short strands whipping about in the strong winds. He almost has to be shout to be heard over the wail of it.

Penelope, in contrast, looks stunning. As fastidiously put together as always; makeup flawless, blond hair meticulously coiled and pinned about her head, and her pink, silky cocktail dress pristine, curling almost elegantly around her legs in what, to her countenance, may as well have been a light breeze.

Gee, nothing ever really seems to ruffle Lady Penelope. Its one of John's favorite things about her.

He's got the telemetries for the epicenter of the storm pulled up on his wrist comm and he waves them at her like a bull rag.

"Lets go hunt down a weather drone."

[hinamie]

thank u canon plant nerd megumi for my life

bonus:

[mocha-crexm]

kunizai week day 1 — first snow ❄️

—————

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[skullfragments]

soooo i've been real busy this past month and change working on this monster of a painting! it was originally for the GO Ref library study club but clearly took much longer than i anticipated😅

for those of you who don't recognize it, this is based on one of my favorite historical paintings, Judith Beheading Holofernes (1620) by Artemisia Gentileschi. i love the Baroque period and this painting (as well as her other works) makes me insane. here it is Good Omens style so maybe all of you can be insane with me <3

"Aziraphale (and Crowley) Beheading the Metatron"

(non-bloody and non-glowy versions under the cut)

[thenotsolittlelady]

Decided to redraw and colour a sketch of my gobbo Veez~ I miss the grumpy bastard <3

[hamlet-not-hamnet]

“Cause I am the one who looks out when you‘re leaping

I am the one who knows how you were brave

And I am the one who heard what you said sleeping

I‘ll take that and more when I go to my grave.“

(xuexiao + the ballad of lucy gray baird)

[peanutseagle]

what do you MEAN you're out of peanuts????