#I hope to keep the chapters short this time but

[separatist-apologist]

We Could Call It Even

Summary: Newly made and terrified, Elain Archeron's human fiance tells her of a creature that could turn her back and keep them together and Elain will stop at nothing to make rumor a reality.

There is no force that can undo fate. No magic that can unmake a mating bond. And Lucien Vanserra isn't about to let his mate throw herself in the path of certain death on a fools hope. Lucien will be forced, instead, to watch her love another man for eighty brutal, miserable years.

While Elain Archeron will have to contend with a life she hoped to never live…and a mate she never wanted.

Thank you @shadowisles-writes for the moodboard!!

Read on AO3 | Chapter 1

-

Lucien couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

Standing beside her human husband, glowing and lovely in the ruined light of the estate they stood in. She had pointedly ignored him, though the male—Graysen—had looked him over with more curiosity than anything. He supposed the human lord wanted to know what his competition was. 

As if there’d ever been any choice between them. She hadn’t even done him the courtesy of formally rejecting the bond, leaving Lucien with an ache he couldn’t dispel and a yearning he suspected would never go away. Even then, Lucien warred with the urge to rip Graysen to shreds.

He had his arm around her. She was leaning into his body, head on his shoulder and Lucien hated it. She owed him, he thought angrily. Not an acceptance, but at least an explanation. Lucien would have liked to be free, too.

Instead he leaned against the ruined door, arms crossed over his chest as he avoided his mate, his former friend, and his older brother all at the same time. He listened to their pretty speeches about unity and togetherness that would never amount to anything. The humans very obviously distrusted her—he could see they thought she was little more than a traitor. 

Feyre didn’t seem to have a good sense of her own history. Lucien wondered why that was. She cared, certainly, but was divorced from the suffering of her own people and wanted them to get over it as she had. Feyre was an anomaly, an outlier that, from Lucien’s perspective, didn’t even notice how different she was.

Even Nesta Archeron didn’t seem wholly convinced, arms wrapped tightly around her body as though she were trying to shrink in on herself. Across the room, Jurian was trying to catch his eye. Lucien would rather die, he decided. He wanted to wash his hands of all of this.

He didn’t regret the things he’d done, but…all Lucien felt anymore was misery.

He tried to slip out once it was clear there were no more speeches left in anyone. Oh, they mingled and talked, promising to keep in touch but he knew they wouldn’t. The fae were too secretive and the humans too distrustful. The history was simply too bloody between them and even five centuries couldn’t erase the hurt.

After all, the fae had never really paid any reparations. They’d merely walled themselves off and warned humans if they crossed the border, well. Everything was fair game. Lucien didn’t know how he’d do it differently—it was a herculean task better suited to far smarter minds than his own. He simply knew that what they’d tried—which was nothing at all—hadn’t been working and would fix nothing. 

“Wait up,” Feyre murmured, looping her arm through his as she’d done on the battlefield. She’d been trying to convince Elain to speak with him, which had gone poorly. Elain clearly wanted nothing to do with him, despite everything he’d done for her. The ache in Lucien’s chest expanded.

“I’m not going to Velaris, Fey.” That stopped her short. Standing among the rubble, a breeze blowing strands of that burnished blonde hair over her freckled face, Feyre looked sad. Young, too. It was easy to forget just how young she was, but…fuck. She was twenty. Lucien ran a hand through his hair, trying to think what he’d been doing at that age.

Fucking and drinking, mostly. 

“Why not?”

“Why—I can’t,” he confessed, letting her hear some of his grief. “I want to forget all this happened.”

“Where will you go?” she questioned, looking up at him with the roundest pair of blue eyes he’d ever seen. She reminded him so much of that fragile human girl he’d once known. Lucien exhaled a sigh.

“I don’t know.”

“She’s…she’s not going to come back, Lucien. I don’t know if she’s even welcome back, I’m so…” Feyre bit her bottom lip.

“So what?”

“Angry,” she whispered, as if Elain might materialize beside her. “This wasn’t how I wanted things to go, you know. But she…she’s got this idea of what life should be like in her head and she won’t let it go.”

“Good for her,” Lucien said dismissively, not wanting to talk about Elain.

“I need…I know you don’t want anything to do with her and I don’t blame you. I told her to at least explain it to you. To talk to you. I um…I went in her mind. A couple times, actually. She doesn’t have any mental defenses and Graysen is always screaming all his thoughts at me anyway. He’s filled her head with some nonsense about a creature who can make her human again.”

Lucien's blood ran cold. “What?”

“A creature tethered to a lake,” Feyre added pointedly.

“He’s a fool then. They both are, if they make a deal with a death god.”

“She’s going to look for him. Alone.”

Lucien hated that he cared. Hated more that he knew what Feyre was asking of him and that he was going to agree, despite how much more pain it was heaping on his shoulders. Hadn’t he suffered enough? Lucien was certain he’d been sent back to live a life of torment for crimes committed in the past. 

“I’ll do anything, Lucien. Anything,” she whispered, offering him her hand.

“You know that’s a fools bargain, Feyre,” he reminded her, knowing she wouldn’t have said it if she didn’t trust him.

“She’ll get herself killed and I’ll be blamed for it. Nesta will never forgive me and Graysen…he’ll spin it as faerie trickery.”

“How am I supposed to stop her? She seems perfectly capable of making her own choices.”

“You went there. You saw him. Explain to her what he takes and the cost she’d be paying. Restoring her humanity would come at an enormous cost. Elain can be selfish, but she’s not cruel.”

Lucien wasn’t certain he agreed with that.  He took Feyre’s hand, though, because he loved her as much as he’d loved anyone. She gripped tight, yanking him just a little closer.

“I’ll put you up somewhere quiet,” she murmured, holding his gaze. “Anywhere in my territory you want. You don’t have to work with me, just…stay, Lucien.”

“And when you have to pick between myself and your sister?” he asked bitterly. “Humans die quickly. She has a century with him, if that. Likely less given how stupid he seems.”

A smile cracked over her solemn expression. “She didn’t choose me. I heard her thoughts when we went to beg for sanctuary. She held such contempt for me and I…why should I keep begging her to care about me? She’s made her choice. And I am making mine.”

Lucien’s stomach tumbled at the ferocity of her words. “I tried to kill you once.”

Her smile widened. “I was a little shit, as I remember it. You went to war for me. I’ll never forget that.”

He’d gone for Elain, and he suspected Feyre knew as much, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. Maybe he could reframe it in his mind. Sure, he’d gone on Elain’s vision, wanting to prove himself to her. But he’d saved his friend—perhaps the best friend he’d ever had. “How do I…how do I stop her?”

“She’s going alone. Don’t tell anyone…but I manipulated Graysen’s thoughts to convince himself Elain had to go by herself. That it was part of the legend.”

Lucien sighed, exasperated. “What if I’d said no?”

“You wouldn’t,” she replied with that easy, lopsided grin. “She has to make her way through my territory to get to the harbor. I know the ticket she’s purchased. Just…meet her on the docks and say whatever you have to in order to send her home.”

“And if she gets on the ship anyway?”

“Then I’ll send in Cassian,” Feyre said, her smile fading. “And Elain will know I’ve been in her mind and she’ll be cleverer next time.”

Lucien paused. “How many times have you been in my mind?”

She squirmed. “Twice.”

“On purpose?” he demanded, more annoyed than anything.

“Just once—the first time was a mistake,” she told him hastily. He believed that. 

“And the second time?”

“When you visited my sister the first time,” she all but whispered. It was better than he’d been imagining. Feyre, in her roundabout way, always wanted the best for everyone. And if she could force it to happen, well…even better.

“I’ll do my best,” he agreed, if only because he’d already shaken her hand. He felt the tingle of magic sliding up his elbow, and when their eyes met, she was smiling again.

“We ink our bargains on the skin,” she told him. “Stay with me tonight, at least. You can decide in the morning where you want to go.”

“Maybe I want to live in the mountains,” he challenged.

“I’ll build you a cabin,” she whispered. “Or a palatial estate. Whatever you want—name it, Lucien. Just…don’t leave me.”

“No promises,” he said, heart racing. No one had ever wanted him to stay so badly they’d been willing to beg. To give him whatever he wanted. As Feyre took his hand, lacing her fingers with his, he suspected she would have given him nearly anything he asked for. Jewels, some low-level secrets he’d always wondered. And as they walked back to Rhys, who cocked his head to the side but only smiled as if what he saw pleased him, Lucien wondered if it wasn’t better to just try and make a clean break of things.

“Az and Cass are already halfway back,” Rhys told Feyre, falling into step easily beside them. “Azriel was seconds from pummeling Drakon to the ground.”

“Why?”

“He thinks they’re cowards,” Rhys said, some of his amusement fading. “How did you find them?”

“I read,” Lucien replied with a shrug, not bothering to mention that a lot of it had been blind, stupid luck. Perhaps Rhys knew that, too—after all, he had to have been looking for longer than Lucien had. 

“Well, they’re going back behind their wards.

“Miryam showed me how to get a message through,” Feyre told him, but her expression was troubled. Rhys merely nodded, offering a half smile that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Hopefully we won’t need them again. Jurian has gone back with Vassa…they wanted Lucien to join them in the human lands—”

“No.”

The mere thought made his skin crawl.

“I told them he had more important tasks in Prythian that would better suit their goals.”

“Did you, now?” That irritated him. He hadn’t sworn fealty to Rhys as his High Lord. In fact, the only person Lucien felt any allegiance to was Feyre, who had promised him a life of quiet contemplation. 

“He’s lying,” Feyre whispered theatrically before a rush of cool, jasmine scented air filled his senses. Beneath the metallic edge of the magic lay the familiar scent of Feyre—pear and lilac, whorling together so nicely that for a moment he could pretend they were all back in Spring together and none of this had happened.

Was he selfish for wishing that? 

They landed on the cold streets of Velaris. A fog had settled from the mountainside, causing light snowflakes to settle on the cobblestone. Few people moved about—he’d forgotten Feyre and Rhys, like so many others, had evacuated their people. It would take time to bring them all back. 

Rhys made his way back to their home while Feyre took him to a familiar townhouse. “I thought you’d prefer it here tonight. It’s closer, but it’s also…”

“Yeah,” he agreed, understanding. It was empty. He could be alone with his misery, not forced to put on a show so people wouldn’t pity him. 

“I’ll have clean clothes sent over. If you don’t want to stay, I won’t make you, but…” Feyre bit her bottom lip, crossing her arms over her chest to ward off the cold. “I wouldn’t make you work for me. You could take a break, Lucien. Enjoy your life, for once.”

“A novel thought,” he admitted. “I’ll think about it.”

She nodded, tugging the end of her braid nervously. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Lucien wanted to say more, but the words that often came so easily to him were stuck in his throat. As she turned, Lucien lunged, catching her wrist. “Thank you.”

He hoped those two words conveyed what he wanted to say properly. She seemed to understand—they’d always had that between them, at least. Feyre nodded her head and he released her, letting her vanish into the mist before he went into the warmth. He’d been here before, just as bloodied and exhausted. Velairs had seemed foreign to him at the time, so at odds with the stories he’d always been told. This was the land of living nightmare? Surely not. 

But here, among the well appointed cream furniture and dark wood floors, lay the truth of the Night Court. It was no different than any of the other territories. It simply better guarded its borders by allowing rumors to spread unchecked. He knew, now, that Rhys rather liked that people were too afraid to come marching in. 

It was better than the heavily fortified borders of Autumn, he supposed. 

Lucien snapped his fingers, bringing the fireplace roaring to life. There was new magic in his veins he’d been trying to untangle. Ever since Hybern, Lucien had practically simmered with it. Flame like he’d never seen, bright and hot as the sun itself. It looked a lot like his fathers, like his brothers, but it didn’t feel like it.

He’d been hiding it, terrified if Eris learned, he’d have him killed. Lucien simply didn’t need any more enemies. He didn’t want Autumn, besides, and had to believe the world wouldn’t be so cruel as to force him back to the place that held so much misery for him.

When he and Feyre had trekked through, all he’d been able to think about was Jesminda, after all. What would she make of all this, he wondered? She’d hate Elain, he decided. He’d been trying to decide whether she’d like his mate or find her unworthy. Lucien had his answer at long last. Jesminda had always railed against the people closest to him, frustrated they didn’t treat him better, didn’t love him well.

You deserve so much more, she used to say. He’d believed it once, but now…gods, Lucien didn’t think so. Surely, after centuries of swallowing immeasurable bullshit, things would have started to look up? He’d thought so, for a moment. 

Now, though…

Lucien sighed, trudging upstairs to a room clearly meant for guests. He’d stumbled into Feyre and Rhys’s room and nearly gagged on the scent of them. The room at the far end of the hall—the one that overlooked the river—smelled faintly of lemon and dust. Better than the smell of sex, he decided. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

Lucien didn’t bother to turn the lights on which caused him to slam his shin into a chair he hadn’t seen in the gloom. Ripping open the heavy, dark curtains allowed for gray light to filter in. There was a bed large enough to accommodate someone with wings, a dresser, and a bookshelf holding a haphazardly stacked collection of books on war. Cassian must have been here last, he decided.

The bathroom was large—Rhys had that going for him, at least. Lucien peeled off the Illyrian leathers, wincing when it ripped the hair from more sensitive places. How did Cassian and Azriel stand them, he wondered? Lucien would be glad never to wear them again. He hoped to have no cause to ever wear them again, though he figured that was asking too much. There was a death god tethered to a lake and a gaggle of humans trying to enrich themselves at the expense of the world itself.

And his mate, of course, comfortable with potentially damning them all for a human lifespan of happiness. 

Lucien sank into a tub of scalding water, almost embarrassed by the noise that escaped his throat. It was something between relief and a sob. Looking at his forearm, he found proof of the bargain he'd made with Feyre, inked in black and white. Pretty vines wrapped from his wrist to elbow, with delicate, autumn-like leaves hanging gracefully from the stem. He traced the pattern with his finger for a moment before relaxing against the cool, smooth surface of the tub. 

His muscles loosened beneath the water, a reminder that he’d run across that battlefield looking for Elain. He hadn’t known she’d gone back to the human—all he’d heard was that she’d been captured by Hybern and was being held as a prisoner. His fear had overridden his good sense. It had been Azriel who’d gone and rescued her, and Elain who’d turned right back around for the human who couldn’t even keep her safe. 

Lucien closed his eyes, trying desperately to banish the image of Elain from his mind. She’d made her choice and he wasn’t going to beg. Wasn’t going to get on his knees and ask her to give him a chance. All he’d ever had was his dignity, and he’d be damned if he threw all that away, now. She might be his mate, but that didn’t mean he owed her anything. Mate in name only…but Jesminda had been his love. She’d died for that love, defiantly refusing to disavow him even when Beron offered her the opportunity to save her own life. If she’d been alive, would he have wanted Elain?

No.

He almost couldn’t hate Elain for her choice. Lucien hated her for making it and for getting what he hadn’t—the chance to be with Graysen, who had survived the war. It seemed so supremely unfair that Elain got everything he’d been denied.

It was simply easier to hate her. As he laid there in the water, covered up to his chin, Lucien let whatever feeling he might have had for her solidify into something cold and unforgiving. It would take centuries of chipping to break through by the time he was done. He could guard this part of himself so carefully, so closely, that no one would even know it existed. 

Let Elain have her dalliance with the human. He’d die, and she’d have nothing. And Lucien…Lucien had nothing, anyway. How long, he wondered, would Feyre hold her resolve? Would she still choose him over her sister? He knew Feyre—she simply didn’t have it in her to hold a grudge. Not forever. Time had a way of easing things, besides, especially when you were surrounded by love and happiness. Feyre would have children, would settle into her life and she’d miss Elain.

Lucien thought he’d die if he had to see Elain at every solstice party for the rest of his miserably long life. He could beg his father to take him back—and end up on the same side of the blade Jesminda had. Or he could do nothing.

Travel.

Wander.

The idea seemed to warm him a little. Shifting his aching muscles beneath the water, Lucien let himself imagine living on the continent for a time. Maybe a decade before he moved on. There was nothing holding him to Prythian anymore. No one holding him here anymore. He couldn’t even go back to Jes, whose grave was lost to him. Her family had refused to tell him where she was buried and would likely have killed him before they ever let him say his final goodbyes to her. 

Lucien left the bath, drying himself as he solidified his plans. He had more than enough money, collected after centuries of being overpaid by Tamlin, and then overpaid again by Rhys. If he needed more, he could always pick up a job somewhere. Do things he’d always been curious about if he truly wanted to.

It was a nice enough fantasy to put him to bed. Lucien woke to snow falling softly and the smell of cinnamon wafting through the halls. Wrapping a sheet around his waist, he found a little note from Feyre beside a stack of fine clothes that were his style and not the Night Courts. He dressed quickly while reading her note.

You can do hard things—even this. 

Love you,

Feyre

The mug of steaming, cinnamon chocolate, felt more like a bribe than anything. Still, he downed it all the same. Snapping the cloak around his neck, and checking his hair one last time, Lucien braced himself to speak to his mate.

And to tell her goodbye.

[pichiru]

The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 3

Chapters - [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. Things start to get real weird real fast.

Word Count - 3,251

Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC

Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery

~~~~~~~~

Solana said:

Good morning, Stanley Pines 🖤

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Mornin toots

Solana said:

Did you sleep well?

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Like a damn rock. What about you?

Solana said:

I slept wonderfully. Had a hot date with a nice and shy old guy and my favorite tv show last night

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Oh yeah? Hope he was handsome

Solana said:

He is. Sexy even.

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Damn. You think I’m sexy? Wish I could give you a compliment too but I have no idea what you look like, toots

Solana said:

Soon, soon. Very soon. I promise. I wanna make sure that you’re not gonna up and run away the moment you see me.

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Why would I book it?

Solana said:

Iunno. It happens all the time.

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Even for me, that’s rude as hell. I’m sorry

Solana said:

Why are YOU sorry? You didn’t do it. I appreciate the kindness though.

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Lemme meet you at your job some time?

Solana said:

Maybe. Let me get through the day today and I’ll give you an answer to that. I’m in a rush right now. Boss is on my ass about being present and punctual.

Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:

Yeah I gotcha. I’ll be waiting for that answer, babe

Solana said:

🖤🖤🖤

“Grunkle Stan, are you ready yet?” Mabel called from up the stairs.

“Did you sleep in your chair again? That’s not good for your back, you know,” Dipper said with playful disappointment in his voice.

Stan smiled to himself at the kids looking out for him despite the fact that he was a grown man and could take care of himself. It was just nice to know that people other than Ford cared for once.

He dropped the leg rest on the recliner then pulled himself to the edge of the seat. With a large and very much audible grunt, Stan pushed himself onto his feet. He knew Dipper was right but sometimes forcing himself to lay in an empty bed was tough. A loud crack was heard when he stretched out his back, immediately creating relief.

“Yeah, yeah, kids. I got it,” he yelled up at them, knowing they were standing at the top of the stairs listening to his morning routine.

“Lemme take a shower and snag breakfast on the way there,” Stan offered as he continued to stretch and crack bones in his rickety old body.

“No chance Grunkle Stan! It’s almost noon and I’ve been waiting alllllll morning for you to wake up and take me and Dipper-“

“I told you, it’s Maze now. Short for Mason,” Dipper murmured to Mabel, hitting her arm. Not hard though.

Mabel rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I’ve been waiting alllllll morning for you to wake up and take me and MAZE to that massive art store that just opened up recently.”

“Maze?” Stan asked under his breath to himself in confusion. “I’m sorry, kid. I stayed up a little later than usual to watch the rerun of The Duchess Approves. I’ll make it up to ya. I promise.”

Mabel peeked down the stairs to see Stan standing at the bottom, looking as if he was deep in thought. “Okay. As long as you keep that promise.”

“I’m a man of my word! I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep. Ask Sixer.” Stan yawned as he stretched one last time to get the residual tiredness out of his body.

“Shower then store!” Mabel said with a nodding huff.

“You got it, kid,” Stan chuckled. He turned the tv off and tossed the remote back into the recliner. He trudged up the stairs and past the kids at the top, immediately making his way into the bathroom. He shut the door quickly and sighed heavily.

Why was Solana being so avoidant about being seen? Was she actually a catfish or even a modicum of who she said she is? It was hard to tell through just a screen or a phone call. Stan was used to being scammed and the scammer but this one…this one felt like the worst kind of scam and that’s saying a lot considering he was actually a criminal.

He shook his head to try and shake the feeling off. Today was about Mabel and starting up her weird earring business. This wouldn’t even be a thing he’d consider if she wasn’t looking to be a business owner like her good old Grunkle Stan. It lit up the darkest corners of his heart to know that fact.

As he went through the motions of taking a shower and getting dressed, Mabel was sitting with Dipper in the living room. She was sitting in the seat of the recliner and Dipper on the arm with his leg up. They were barely watching some old cowboy flick that had a lot of staring and not a lot of action. It could almost be classified as media's longest staring contest if one to be honest.

Dipper had on a black denim vest with distress on the sleeves, (what he thought was) an obscure band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and combat boots. Even though it was the beginning of summer, he chose fashion over comfort. He even started donning "guy-liner" which everyone knew was just eyeliner he tried to masculinize. Mabel did it for him every morning without complaint because she wanted her brother to look pretty.

Mabel however barely changed her fashion sense in the years since they were last in the mystery shack. Except she upgraded to overall dresses over her sweaters instead of regular skirts and wore high top converse instead of regular black flats. Sometimes she would steal Dipper's band t-shirts if they had a weird enough logo.

"Dip-" Mabel started before she got a death glare from her brother. "Maaazzzeeeeeee," she said in a drawn out way to try and get the name on her tongue. "Maze, did you hear any of what Grunkle Stan was saying on the phone last night?"

"No, I was _actually_ sleeping."

"Hey! I was too excited to sleep because we're starting up my business soon! And going material shopping today. I had to make sure I had everything written down and designed so the art store people could help me," she explained before puffing out her cheeks at the end.

"ANYWAY!" she continued. "He was talking to a mystery woman and watching The Duchess Approves. It had a crazy plot twist at the end. I won't spoil it for you though," she rambled.

"Mabel, you're getting off track again," Maze said as he flicked the shoelaces on his combat boots.

"Oh! Right! Well anyway, I think he asked her on a date," she whispered to him.

"A date? Grunkle Stan? Yeah okay. Funny joke Mabel," Maze said as he rolled his eyes. "Grunkle Stan doesn't have it in him to even talk to a woman let alone ask her on a date."

"I dunnoooooo! He got pretty far on courting Lazy Susan before things went downhill. I just think they thought they were better as friends. But this woman...She's different. I think he really likes her."

"How could you know that from one conversation on the phone?" Maze asked.

"I can tell by the tone of his voice when he was talking to her. Grunkle Stan never talks to anyone like that. Not even us! And you know he loves us to death."

"He'd never admit it though," Maze added.

"Of course not. But we will always know his truth," Mabel sighed gently as she sat back into the chair.

"Kids? Ya ready to hit the road?" Stan's voice suddenly called from up the stairs.

Mabel and Maze sat up straight when they heard his voice. They looked at each other, scared that he might have heard their conversation. They gulped in unison.

"Y-Yeah! I got everything in my bag and Di...Maze is ready too!" Mabel called back with a nervous laugh, grabbing her tote bag and standing up straight.

"Nice," Maze said sarcastically with no real bite to it. But he's glad she said something because he knows they would have both been sitting there in stunned silence until Stan came down to see if they were even still alive.

"Shhhhhh!" Mabel covered his face with one of her hands. Maze didn't move in the slightest. He was used to Mabel doing that at this point.

They could hear footsteps descending down the first half of the steps then onto the landing. Stan was standing there in his mystery shack suit with his red fez, a sleek gold chain with his stylish, totally for show, cane in his right hand. Which meant...he was ready to haggle the art store workers at any cost. He only wore that suit when he wanted to scam during daylight hours.

"Grunkle Stan, you better be nice! I know what that suit means," Mabel warned, putting her hands on her hips and puffing her cheeks out.

"Hey, don't ya want the best materials at half the cost? Which means ya can get even more!" Stan retorted with his signature, boastful grin plastered on his face.

Mabel sighed loudly while leaning her head back. "Yeessssss," groaned playfully.

"Exactly. Let's get going." Stan looked at Maze and gave him a thumbs up. "I had a goth phase too, kid. Just want you to know that," he said as he finished coming down the stairs. He patted both of their heads with heavy hands and smiled even more. Nothing made him happier in this moment than seeing his niece and nephew continue growing into their own person. He just wanted them to be happy and he'd do anything to make that happen.

"Grunkle Staaannnnnn," Maze groaned, shaking his head from under Stan's hand and fixing his hair.

"Sorry, kid. Takes a lot of hair gel to get it like that, eh?" Stan chuckled as he walked towards the door. "Keepin it in mind for the next time."

Maze smiled at his uncle's apology. Stan was the last person he expected to understand him right now. How could Stanley Pines of all people understand what it felt like to be an outcast? It always seemed like he knew just what to do to fit in and Ford was the outcast.

"Maze?" Mabel called from the door. She was looking at him with concern at the way he spaced out suddenly. "You okay?"

"Y-Yeah! Sorry. I was just thinking about what kind of earrings I could make for myself when you get everything. Twin discount, you know," He said coolly.

Mabel grinned, clutching the strap of her tote. Her family's support meant the world to her. "It'll probably be something emmoooooo," she teased. "Shotgun!" she yelled suddenly before darting towards Stan's car.

"NOT FAIR! You got a head start!" Maze said as he ran out of the house past Stan to try and beat Mabel to the car.

Stan laughed to himself as he closed the front door and locked the door. He strolled over to the car as the twins argued over who was going to sit where in the car. "The lady of the hour should sit in the front." Mabel stuck her tongue out at Maze. "Then...Maze can sit in the front when we come home." Maze stuck his tongue out at Mabel in retaliation. Stan unlocked the car and hopped in. Right after, the twins piled into the spots in the car.

"Buckle those seatbelts up," Stan reminded as he turned the radio on a low volume so there wasn't any awkward silence.

"Grunkle Stan, you literally never put your seatbelt on," Mabel laughed as she put hers on.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm an adult. I could take a car crash to the head right now and be fiiine," Stan said smoothly but in a way that would definitely be conveyed as a joke. He admired her for calling him out on his shit. He needed to be setting a better example for them since they were much more sentient and impressionable than the last time he saw them. He popped it on, adjusted his rearview mirror and drove off towards town.

Stan and Mabel were singing along to a random pop song that they both were surprised that each other knew. Once they realized that they were karaoke buddies, they sang their hearts out to the song while Maze sat in the backseat, marveling at their ability to not care so much. Once the song was over with and they calmed down, Stan adjusted his rearview mirror so he could have a direct eye line with Maze.

"So uh, Maze. Ya wanna talk about the name change?" Stan asked as he turned down the radio so he could hear him if he decided to respond.

"Oh, uh..." Maze's cheeks flushed shyly as he sunk down into the seat. "I felt like Dipper was too little kiddish and Mason wasn't cool enough. It feels like an old man name. So I came up with Maze," he explained, feeling his ears heat up from embarrassment. "It's like a cooler and more edgy version of Mason, you know?"

Stan smiled to himself. He was proud of his nephew for taking steps to trying to find himself in this crucial stage of his development. "Yeah? It sounds badass," he admitted with a grin. "The ladies'll go crazy over Maze."

"You think so?" He asked, his cheeks fully flushed now. He had a smile on his face that was so relieved that Stan was extremely supportive without a second thought to it.

"Hell yeah! Better than borin old Stan," Stan said with a nod, smiling even more now.

"Well someone seems to like that, 'boring old Stan'," Mabel chimed in bravely with a devious grin while she wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.

The car swerved slightly after she said that. Stan was shocked that she knew _anything_. His own cheeks started turning red in response.

"Got no clue what you're on about, kid," he deflected quickly.

"Oh yeeeaaaahhhhhh? Who's Solana then?" Mabel asked, putting her head in her hands with her elbows on the arm rest between her and her uncle.

"B-Bill collector!" He stammered before turning the radio up loud enough to where he couldn't hear her if she tried to speak again.

Mabel giggled and turned to face forward in her seat again. She knew he was lying of course and it was hilarious watching him trying to explain his way out of it.

After what felt like an agonizing amount of time to Stan later, they pulled into a parking spot at the new art shop he promised he'd take Mabel to. He turned the car off then immediately pulled the keys out.

"Ready to get the ball rollin, kid?" Stan asked Mabel.

"I'm ready like Freddy!" Mabel said excitedly, practically vibrating in her seat at this point.

"Go on in. I'll meet you kids in there. Make sure you look all helpless so they'll feel bad for some kids and give even more of a discount," Stan reminded, looking between the both of them. The twins nodded and rushed out of the car to run into the store.

Stan took his phone out of his pocket to see if Solana had texted him. She didn't. He figured it was because she was at work so he figured he'd hear from her later on in the day after her shift. Or maybe on her lunch break? He hoped lunch was the option.

Wait what? Stop. Full stop. Why was he acting like this about a woman he barely knew?

Get it together, Stanley, he thought to himself, shaking his head and rubbing his face in disbelief. His eyes trailed over to his reflection in the rearview mirror. He almost didn't recognize himself.

"Ya got this. You are the man. Ya'll get Mabel the best deals in the history of Gravity Falls on art supplies. Keep it together around them. Don't let them see you crack," he said to his reflection in the mirror, trying to hype himself up like usual. He always did this before every Mystery Shack tour back when he still ran it. He left that up to Soos long ago. It'd been a while. He was rusty but he hoped he still had the charm.

Before he could get inside his own head any more than what he already was, Stan got out of the car. He made sure to grab his cane just in case he had to play up the old man card. As he locked the doors, he was already walking into the store.

The doors slid open and he was hit with the crispest wall of air conditioning he'd ever felt since he moved to this, not so, sleepy town. They weren't kidding when they said this was the biggest art store this town has ever seen. It seemed locally owned. By who, he didn't know. Nor did he care. He was about to scam the fuck out of them.

There was a loud clatter heard in a nearby aisle.

"Fuck!" the voice said in a defeated tone.

Stan grew curious if the kids had anything to do with that. He went to inspect almost immediately. Once he reached the aisle where the commotion was, there was a woman bent over in a short skirt. If she didn't have her striped tights on, her ass definitely would have been showing. It was nice and round plus her thighs were the perfect size to match. When he caught himself staring, Stan screeched to a grinding halt in his tracks when he remembered that he was still very much interested in Solana.

"Excuse me, toots. Ya need a hand?" he found himself asking without even thinking a millisecond about it. He cussed himself out internally for treating this woman the way he did initially and wanted to right the wrong. Even though she had no idea.

"Ah, no. I got it," she said as she stood up straight and turned around to see Stan. She froze in her tracks when their eyes met. She stood there, statuesque.

Stan couldn't help but look over her in the few seconds he had to respond. She had a light yellow color to her hair and it was almost reminiscent of Betty Boop with all the little curls she had covering her head and part of her face. It was short too. Above her shoulders. Her skin was dewy and brown. Her eyes were a deep and chocolatey brown. Her lips. Her shirt had one of those little heart shaped keyholes. It showed every bit of her cleavage.

He snapped himself back to reality first, still finding her seemingly frozen in time.

"Hello?" Stan asked, waving a hand in her face. "Anybody home up there?"

"Hi, Stanley," she said in a very familiar voice with a smile and a tiny wave of her fingers.

Stan froze in his spot as well. His throat immediately started feeling like it was closing up and his heart started racing.

"S-Solana?" he asked in quiet shock. His entire demeanor changed almost instantly. He was looking everywhere but her, feeling the anxiety of seeing her set in quickly. This was something he hadn't accounted for. At least not today.

"Tsk, tsk, Stanley," Solana said as she did the two finger wiping motion at him. "Eye fucking me already?" she laughed. "How ungentlemanlike of you."

[whumblr]

Nighttime

Crossed out Masterpost

Heavy footsteps slowly made their way up the stairs, the clanking sounds echoing through the silent hall as they drew nearer on the steel grated walkway.

The owner of those boots didn’t care it was nearing midnight, nor did he seem in a hurry. He took slow deliberate steps, knowing he had an audience who were all listening with bated breath. He knew most would still be awake, at least those with a guilty conscience, waiting, waiting for the inevitable, and praying for the footsteps to pass by their cell.

Lucas too lay wide awake, facing the cell door, seeing the drawn out shadow draw nearer through the bars.

He racked his brain, trying to remember if anyone else had drawn Nero’s attention today, had done anything to deserve a nighttime visit. When he couldn’t think of any – the day like all others had passed in a hazy blur – he tried to remember if there was anyone locked away in solitary.

Two out of three options he came up blank and the third option became very real all of a sudden.

Would it be him? Would this be his first visit, finally finding out – unwillingly – what happened behind those closed doors, what caused the begging and the screaming, what was the prime cause for the impeccable record of this prison’s stats for good behaviour?

Something heavy started forming in his stomach, something that spread to all his limbs. He shifted on his bed, the flimsy mattress barely protecting his bruises from the harsh, cold metal underneath, and kept a close watch on the shadow that now drew nearer.

Had he done anything today? Besides being his usual nuisance? He hadn’t talked back (hadn’t had the chance, really), mouthed off, or tried to instigate a fight. All in all, a quiet day. So by that logic, he should be safe. Should. But he knew Nero didn’t need a reason. And that he could hold onto a grudge, coming back with punishment for something that happened days ago. He relished in the false comfort and striking when the victim thought he was safe.

Yet everyone awake was now thinking back on their sins, severely questioning their safety, and praying they would be spared that night.

The shadow was now right outside his cell and he was sure he just made eye contact with the beast. Either time slowed or the man had stopped. But then he blinked and the shadow had passed his door. Clanking footsteps following in its wake.

His shoulders relaxed. And Lucas found himself exhaling his dread.

A couple cells ahead the footsteps stopped. Sounds echoed through the hall, a lock springing open, the creak of the door; the soft prelude. Then soft begging and sobs, whispered pleads. A harsh command. Then quicker footsteps, stumbling along with Nero’s marching, another choked off sob, whispered “please, please, no, I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry!” as they got closer.

"Quiet."

The begging stopped instantly.

The command wasn’t made out of concern to others, nor to not disturb their night’s peace or to remain undetected. Begging just was useless here.

Lucas saw the two dark figures go past, noticing how Nero used his favourite method of transportation: a vice grip on his victim’s neck and simply pushing them along.

A door slammed shut. Then there was silence.

Lucas pressed his pillow over his head, tried to calm his beating heart, to convince himself the storm had passed and he could go to sleep. Unfortunately, he knew the silence was a short lived one.

That it would soon be filled again. By muffled distant screams.

-

Continued here

[buwheal]

Unexpected but fair.

How long were we disconnected?

[kevinsdsy]

girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls

[sharkaroni]

It's the last day of Serirei week 2024, the theme is festival/beach, and Serizawa turns up to the local haunted festival despite not being on the schedule today.

I wanna say a huge thank you to @thenoodledart and @brockoliguy who put this week together, I've had so much fun writing these silly shortfics and seeing what everyone else has been doing too!!

[veilord]

I’m writing this because I can’t stop thinking about sbg and I’m really excited for the next chapters but I’m really impatient and I can’t buy coins :(

I love “School Bus Graveyard” so much and I recently reread the entire comic because I stoped reading for a while. I had fun but it really reinforced the major criticisms I have with it, and that is the pacing and telling instead of showing.

The best way I can think to explain it is that the story goes to fast, especially in the first season.

Like it starts with the cold open to the kids almost getting got by the phantom before going back to give us the context of what’s happening. And this works great to hook readers when the start of the story is a bit slow. Then we have the kids bonding on the trip before they are pulled into the phantom dimension for the first time, and it’s great!! I love the first night and was getting so invested in what would happen next! Then it skips back to the time during the opening.

Skipping boring or irrelevant stuff in a story is expected, we don’t want to watch the kids go to all their classes during school if we don’t need to. This skip isn’t like that, it skips over a lot of interesting story that we need to know about to understand how the kids got into the situation they’re in during the opening. So the story has to full us in on the stuff skipped and dose so by just having Ashlyn monologue about it.

I didn’t notice when I was reading but thinking back this happens a lot, the story skips ahead to the more plot relevant and exciting stuff and has Ashlyn fill in what we missed. This results in the story having almost no downtime which, isn’t good. It makes the story very fast and can be confusing, like when preparing for getting the jeep Ashlyn says it takes a lot of preparation and practice, but we don’t see any of it. So when the plan goes wrong because the keys were moved we aren’t as panicked and confused as the kids. Well it may have been weeks or months in story for us it seems like a few days at most. I have no clue how long they have actually been dealing with the phantoms but the way the story is paced makes it seem like they have only been dealing with it for a short time, making how stressed and tired they are seem like to much.

But I find the biggest problem with the pacing and lack of downtime is how it screws over the characters. When the time skips happen we lose so much character building. We don’t see how they interacted right after the first night in the phantom dimension, how they handled the second night, how they all got to the graveyard, all the arguments about going back to savanna, what they text in the group chat, visiting each others houses, Tyler teaching Ben guitar, just hanging out. When we are told backstory’s they don’t hit very hard because we don’t know much about the characters, we never got to know them. When Tyler falls on the tree and we get his backstory it’s informative and sad and stuff, but then it tells us that Tyler sees the gang as a second family and… what. When I first read that I was genuinely confused, it felt like it came out of nowhere, like they just met, he barely knows any of them. But they didn’t just meet, they’ve known each other for months and have been surviving together every night and hanging out often during the day, but we didn’t see any of it. We only see them in stressful situations so we never really see Tyler warm up to the group, we don’t get the sense that any of these kids are really friends most of the time. The few hangout scenes we get are so good, they let us relax and get to know the characters as they get to know each other. And we know that they hang out more than the two times shown so it super sucks we don’t see more.

The characters need more room to breathe and establish themselves as individuals and as part of the group. As it is whenever one character get more focus it feels like the others are pushed to the side, like there isn’t enough room for all of them when I think there could be more then enough room.

I hope this makes sense I’m not proofreading it lmao. I do really like this story and a lot of my complaints feel less relevant to season two, but because a lot of these problems happen in season one when set up and character building is most important for establishing a steady base for the story to build on it’s very noticeable even as the writing improves. Maybe one day Red can go back and improve the story somehow, but that seems unlikely so I hope these issues continue to be improved as the comic goes on.

[youchangedmedestiel]

The eleventh chapter of my first long AU fic is now posted on AO3.

Read the 11th chapter here!

I made a playlist for the last part of the chapter, which you can start when you read the word "Californication."

Summary: THEN: Cas was being all nice and protective with Dean. Dean appreciated that and still struggled with defining his feelings for Cas.

NOW: This is Dean's last full day there. He tries to enjoy it as much as possible, which means touching Cas as much as possible, but also spending time with him. Looking at him. Thinking about him. And this, in a specific intimate moment.

The tags: Alternate Universe ; Summer Vacation ; Summer Love ; Feelings ; Pining ; Pining Dean Winchester ; Possibly Unrequited Love ; Fluff ; Light Angst ; Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues ; Beach Holidays ; Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester Friendship ; POV Dean Winchester ; Other Additional Tags to Be Added ; Attempt at Humor ; Alternate Universe - summer holidays ; Poker : Football | Soccer ; Humour ; but like dean's humour ; well kind of mine since I'm writing it so don't judge please : Self-Esteem Issues ; Dean Winchester Has a Crush on Castiel ; Dean Winchester Has Feelings For Castiel ; Jealous Dean Winchester ; Dean Winchester Dreams about Castiel ; Texting ; Trampolines ; Thunder and Lightning ; Guitarist Castiel (Supernatural)

[theflyingfeeling]

so idk if anyone remembers anymore but some time ago I described a fic idea in the tags of a post (and then elaborated the idea in a later ask) regarding Olli/Aleksi falling for each other while still being in relationships respectively... yeah, I kinda ended up writing something based off that thought and I just uploaded the first chapter on AO3, I hope y'all will be cool about it 👉👈

[o-wyrmlight]

Wheezing with laughter writing this part of Chapter 11 of A Toast to the Pigs...

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

If You Want To Write About Him...

Author: 雾凇升华了

Source: ♡ || Permission: ♡

If you want to write about Li Zeyan, you cannot just “write” Li Zeyan.

You have to write about compassion, about sacrifices, about calmness, and comprehensiveness in the game of business.

What you will be writing is only a drop in the ocean... You have to about making wine with pine flowers, about gathering the rosebuds only when it’s time, about the full moon in the fragrance of the night.

You have to write about the blessing of the heavens (恩泽), about the meticulous and temperate nature of the words and deeds (谨言慎行), about the fresh flowers in front of the tomb in Èze, about the Eldredge knot, about the seventeen years of endless and unyielding search for the girl.

You also have to write about the bullet coercing into the gale, about the dagger lifted by a trembling hand, about the shattered cup in the attic, and the exhaustion of the final breath of life to unceasingly travel back in time.

You have to write about pudding and fine wine, the warmth remnant on the lips, the embrace beneath the curtain of night, the magnificent stars. You have to write how he is the home one returns to at the end of the journey, the commemoration of one’s life, the harbor on winter nights, and the paradise on earth...

...up to the very last moment, he is the love to rely on. Amid the grandeurs on earth, he is the glorious and magnificent spark in the human world.

Actually, the weight of the three letters Li Zeyan (李泽言) itself is enough to convey all the beauty it possesses.

–– as the girl said, “李泽言就是李泽言” (Li Zeyan is Li Zeyan).

[cookie-sheet-toboggan]

it's so much more likely that the people who were commenting just got caught up in their own lives for a while, instead of "leaving" because of something you did. like, try to remind yourself that just like fic writers are doing this for free, so are the people leaving the comments you love. they're not just comment-machines, you know?

Oh, I understand this. I've been that reader who's come back to fics, and I'm also that reader who doesn't comment on every single fic. I'm no comment-machine. I'm also that writer who's had more commenters "leave" and not return than ones who have come back. And I'm not saying this like people aren't allowed to leave or just simply stop commenting if they're still there, I'm just saying that it gets in your head when there's a sudden absence in your support network... especially when you've had conversations with these people and then poof they're gone (for months or, more often than not, forever.)

I can be understanding while still being sad.... and curious too 🙃

[seventh-district]

still riding the high of finally getting a comment on AEIWNF yesterday

[spicy-apple-pie]

Oh Damian, if only you knew that you could never do wrong in Bruce's eyes.

Chapter Index

Also some notes: Sorry about the short updates, just want to get some motivations established for the next arc, but there will be an interlude where Bruce confronts Talia, so that's fun.

And with the holidays and the fact that I'm going on vacation in early January, it's likely that Adopted Damian will go on a two week hiatus. It's still up in the air because I have a few more days off work than I usually do, but I procrastinated gifts as per usual so I have no idea.

I also want to thank everyone for the support during this comic, this is way bigger than I thought it would be and I'm having a really fun time making it. I'm really glad to see so many people enjoying it as well, so I hope I keep doing right by you guys.

[ja3yun]

Guilty as Sin | P.SH

ceo!sunghoon x assistant!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, desk sex, doggy, dom!hoon, choking, petnames (slut, good girl), slight dub con (hoon doesn't know what she's doing on the phone), age gap (reader is 22 and hoon is 27), not proof read, its not great tbh, anything else lmk! w.c: 3.8k synopsis: with your roommate gone for the evening, it is the perfect opportunity to let loose and think about a certain ceo while you fulfil your deepest desires. a/n: hi! this is ofc based on guilty as sin by taylor swift. just a heads up, the italics are her fantasy and straight text is what is happening in the real world. i tried to make it as clear as possible but sorry if its confusing near the end! this is just a little someting I wrote quickly (who would have guessed I could write a wc under 10k lmao). i hope you like it and as always feedback, comments, reblogs and likes are all appreciated.

part 2

Placing her trusted Charlotte Tilbury lipstick in her bag, your best friend and roommate of three years, Jimin, is finally ready to go out for the night. She looks glamorous from head to toe, effortlessly exuding the confidence and allure of a world-class supermodel.

Her hair cascades in loose waves, artfully swept over one shoulder, highlighting her elegant neck and perfectly styled tresses. Her tanned skin glows under the soft lighting, accentuating the contrast with her white spaghetti strap crop top, which subtly showcases her toned midriff. Her black suede shorts hug her figure, adding a touch of sophistication and edge to her ensemble. Strappy heels elongate her legs, making her look even more statuesque.

As Jimin adjusts her earrings, you can't help but admire her impeccable sense of style and grace. Her makeup is flawlessly applied, with a hint of shimmer on her eyelids and a bold, dark red lip that makes her look like she’s stepped straight out of a DAZED magazine.

In stark contrast, you are nestled comfortably on the couch in your cherry pink pyjamas, lost in the pages of "King of Pride." The soft fabric of your pyjamas provides a comforting embrace, and your hair is casually pulled back in a loose ponytail. Your face is free of makeup, showcasing your natural beauty and the relaxed ease of someone enjoying a quiet evening, just you, a glass of wine, and the much-needed company of Kai Young.

“Okay, how do I look?” Jimin turns to you, plastering on a big smile, extending her arms so you can get a full glimpse of her carefully orchestrated outfit.

Holding your place in your book with your thumb, you pretend to inspect her harshly, knowing anything less would be deemed as not caring - at least in the eyes of your best friend. “I think…you look like the prettiest girl in the room, no, the world” you compliment her earnestly.

Tutting, she rolls her eyes. “You and Jaeyun say the same thing every time,” she giggles, enjoying the compliment despite it being a secret mantra you and her boyfriend have conjured up to keep her happy. Jimin has a certain way she likes to be spoken to and if it isn’t the most dramatic, complimentary words you can muster, you might as well call her an ugly hag who cracks mirrors.

Jaeyun and you have always rated her an unequivocal one hundred out of ten.

“Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to come?” Jimin asks for the fifth time in three hours. “Heeseung will be there, you know he has a bit of a crush on you.” She wiggles her eyebrows playfully, clearly enjoying how your face flushes at mentioning his name. Heeseung is handsome, no doubt about it, but he isn’t the man you would rush out the door for.

“I promise, I am quite happy here with my rich soon-to-be CEO and a glass of Pino,” you wave her off and open your book again, digging back into the chapter she pulled you from.To be honest, it’s not entirely a fib; you do want to stay in and enjoy a glass of wine, though your plans are slightly more elaborate than they seem—details she doesn’t need to know about.

“Well, don’t wait up. I’m planning to stay at Jaeyun’s afterwards,” she announces with a gleeful smile. Her infectious joy and the glimmer in her eyes catch the warm light from the lamp beside you, casting a gentle glow over the room.

As she gives a final twirl and heads out the door, leaving the apartment with a high-pitched goodbye, you wait to hear the faint turn of her key in the lock. Once you detect that reassuring click, signalling her definitive departure, you wedge your bookmark in the novel and place it on the side table, promising yourself that you will return to it later; you have another CEO to attend to.

Grasping your glass of crisp wine and your phone, you make your way to your bedroom. The room is softly lit, with fairy lights casting a warm, ambient glow. You place your wine on the nightstand, sitting softly on your bed as you unlock your phone.

A sigh leaves your wine-tainted lips as you open up Instagram, going straight to a certain someone’s page. The same person that has left you so needy all day that you have been counting down the minutes and seconds until you get some alone time.

Park Sunghoon. 

Your boss, Park Sunghoon, who gave you a job as his assistant straight out of Grad school after attending one of his special lectures, the one who has shown you the ropes of the Marketing world and introduced you to important contacts to help you in the future, and the one who makes it insanely difficult to concentrate in any board or business meeting because of how insanely attractive he is.

Sunghoon is a gift from the gods: tall, wealthy, extraordinarily handsome, and incredibly hard to resist. He is admirable and focused, commanding a room in a way you wish he would with you, hoping that the passion and energy he has for the business could somehow translate into a more intimate setting, with you on the receiving end. He has worked tirelessly to build his company from rags to riches, becoming the youngest, highest-grossing CEO in the country, making every Forbes 30 Under 30 list there is. You are immensely grateful for the opportunity to work as his assistant.

That is why what you are about to do feels like a betrayal. Your heart tells you this is wrong, embarking on sinful acts such as this, but it also convinces you that thoughts inside your mind aren’t anything to feel ashamed about, as long as you look and never touch.

And so far, you haven’t ever laid a finger on him, much to your disdain. There have been times when all you can think about is pouncing on him while he sits at his desk, imagining bouncing on his cock until you’re high off his cum and kisses. You envision his white shirts and black ties discarded, your lips all over his toned chest and stomach, hearing him moan your name as you make your way to suck his cock better than any of his socialite flings ever could.

If the assistant and CEO dynamic wasn’t enough to deter you from making your fantasies a reality, the class barrier would be your first hurdle. Sunghoon comes from a world of privilege and status, a realm of luxury and power. Despite your impressive academic achievements and the progress you’ve made in your career, there’s always an underlying awareness of the different worlds you inhabit. You’re 22 and an assistant just starting to work your way up and Sunghoon is a 27-year-old CEO of a multi-million dollar franchise.

You are nowhere near his level.

Yet, the allure of his presence is irresistible. His charisma and the subtle way he looks at you during meetings ignite a forbidden desire within you. The professionalism you maintain in the office is a fragile veneer, concealing the simmering tension and your hidden longing. Each day, you master the art of restraint, keeping your fantasies locked away, only to revisit them in the privacy of your room, where the boundaries of reality and imagination blur.

Scrolling through his Instagram, you hone in on one particular picture, your favourite among them all: his GQ CEO of the Year cover. Maybe it was because you were there when it was taken, seeing him switch poses, flicking his eyebrows up and smirking into the camera, his fingers gripping the edges of his desk as the photographer shouted praises intertwined with instructions. God, how you would do anything to be bent over that table and fucked to oblivion by the man.

You reach into your bedside drawer and retrieve the pretty pink dildo you ordered from Adam & Eve, the size mimicking what you imagine Sunghoon’s looks like: slim but not skinny, long and arched, with a large bell at the end. It’s so wrong to imagine what your boss’ dick looks like, never mind buying a toy specifically to fantasise about him, but you can’t bring yourself to feel guilty about it—not when you’re cumming around it and screaming his name.

Position yourself comfortably, the soft sheets bunch up around you and close your eyes. The fantasy takes over, vivid and tantalising. You picture Sunghoon, his intense gaze locked on you, his hands rough yet tender as they roam your body. The thought of his voice, low and commanding, fills your mind, heightening your arousal.

And you get lost in the fantasy as you look at the picture illuminating your screen.

Pushing down your pyjama shorts, you discard them quickly, your cunt already greedy to be filled. You rub the dildo up and down your slick folds, gathering your natural lubricant as you look at Sunghoon’s stern face on your phone screen, remembering all the times he has reprimanded you for doing something wrong. You never fully took in the severity of the situation, your mind too lost in the lower octave of his tone and how badly you wished to be punished by him.

“Bend over. Now,” he says with venom lacing his tone, the words cutting through his quiet office.

You do as he says, leaning over the desk and hiking up your skirt, eagerly anticipating your retribution. The air is thick with tension as Sunghoon’s body looms close to you, teasing you even with just his presence. Your mind races as his hands situate themselves on your hips, pulling your ass back into him, the action causing your cunt to meet his bulge. The outline of his length protrudes through his Prada slacks, making your pussy ache all over him.

Leaning his body over yours so his chest is pressed firmly against your back, he ghosts his lips over your earlobe. “How many times do I need to tell you to do your job right?” His question is rhetorical, knowing that if you speak, you’ll get an even worse punishment.

His warm breath on your ear sends shivers down your spine, and you feel your core tighten in anticipation. His grip on your hips tightens as he slowly grinds against you, the friction of his bulge against your soaked panties making you whimper. The feeling of his hard cock pressing into you, even through the fabric is intoxicating, and you can’t help but arch your back, pushing yourself closer to him.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and taunting. “So desperate for it. Such a needy little slut.”

Before you can respond, he straightens up, his hands leaving your hips, his warm grip now replaced with the cold lingering of want. Without warning, he brings his hand down on your ass with a sharp smack. The sensation is electric, a mix of pain and pleasure that makes you gasp, the sting of the spank sends a jolt of arousal straight to your core, and you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

“Did you like that?” he asks, his tone mocking. He doesn’t wait for an answer as his hand comes down again, harder this time, the sound of the impact echoing in the large office. The force makes you tremble, your skin tingling with the aftershock, your cunt leaking down your leg in sheer joy and agony.

“Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp, the words escaping your lips before you can stop them.

“Good girl,” he purrs, and you feel his hand rub soothing circles over the spot he just spanked, the contrast of his gentle touch against the sting making your body crave more. He is giving you the perfect mixture of punishment and rest, somehow making you crave a spanking more than ever before despite your ass whispering pleas of ‘no more’

Another sharp smack lands on your other cheek, and you can’t hold back the moan that escapes your throat. The pain mingles with pleasure, your pussy throbbing with need. Each hit is harder than the last, and you can feel the heat rising in your skin, the stinging sensation turning into a delicious ache.

“Do you want more?” he asks, his voice dripping with seduction. “Do you want me to punish you properly?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply breathlessly, your body trembling with anticipation. These two words seem to be the only thing that can fall from your lips other than strangled moans and mewls of desire.

He spanks you again, the force making you lurch forward, your hands gripping the edge of the desk for support, the hit vibrating all the way to your throbbing bud. The sharp sting reverberates through your body, intensifying the ache between your legs. You feel yourself getting wetter, your juices dripping down your thighs, hitting the Versace shoes that Sunghoon bought you for a work event.

“Look at you,” he taunts, his voice low and commanding. “So needy, so desperate. You can’t even control yourself, can you?”

“No, sir,” you admit, your voice a whimper. “I need you.”

His hand comes down on your ass again, harder than before, and you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure overwhelming your senses. You can feel the slickness between your thighs increasing, naturally preparing yourself for what is to come.

“You’re such a good girl,” he murmurs, his hand rubbing soothingly over your reddened skin. “Taking your punishment so well.”

He leans over you again, his lips brushing against your ear. “But we’re not done yet,” he whispers, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “I’m going to make sure you never forget this.”

With that, he draws back and gives another harsh slap, the impact of which causes you to squeal. The cadence of his spanking quickens, each slap sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your skin tingles with each hit, leading to a climax.

“Please, sir,” you beg, your voice trembling. “Please, I need to cum.”

He pauses, his hand resting on your ass. “You need to cum?” he repeats, his tone amused. “Just by my hand?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, your body trembling with need. “Please, I’ve been a good girl, let me cum.”

He chuckles softly, his hand sliding between your thighs to feel your wetness. “You’re soaked,” he remarks, his fingers teasing your folds. “Such a needy little slut.”

His words send a jolt of arousal through you, and you whimper as he teases your entrance with his fingers. “Don’t you want my cock?” he asks, his voice low and seductive. “Don’t you want me to fuck you?” His words are condescending, knowing that with a few more slaps you’ll be clenching around nothing, yet, he can’t stand to see you cum and it not be around his delicious cock.

“Yes, sir,” you moan, your body aching for his touch, for his dick to be stuffed deep inside you. To be honest, you want anything he will give you. “Please, fuck me.”

Unbuckling his belt and letting his black trousers and boxers fall to his ankles, he positions himself behind you, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you push back against him, desperate to feel him inside you.

“Patience,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “I want to take my time with you.”

Finally wet enough to snuggly enter you, the dildo sinks into your cunt as you imagine him sinking in slowly, the wave of pleasure as you stretch around the faux shaft enough to send your head back into a frenzy.

He pushes in slowly, the stretch of his cock filling you inch by inch. The sensation is overwhelming, the tip of his cock sliding past all of your sensitive spots, stimulating your nerves just the way you need him to. You feel every inch of him, the fullness making your body shiver with desire.

“God, you’re tight,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips harder. “You feel so fucking good.”

He begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through your body. The friction of his cock against your inner walls is intoxicating, and you can’t help but moan his name, the sound mingling with the rhythm of his movements.

“Sunghoon,” you gasp, your back contorting to fit him deeper, head thrown back as he bucks his hips at a steady, agonising pace. “Please, fuck me harder.”

Scoffing, he slows down, giving you the opposite of what you are needily begging for. “You think you deserve to make demands?” Sunghoon asks, his hands roaming along your back, fingers untucking your shirt and crawling up to your bare back. You’re lucky he let the slip of his name out of your mouth rather than his preferred nickname.

In truth, you don’t, constantly fucking up in your job to the point that it has come to this, but by god will you never get a single thing right if it means receiving this pleasure. Yet, right now, you need to yield, appeasing his every word.

“I don’t deserve it, Sir,” you admit, trying to fuck onto his cock faster. “But please, I’ll be so good if you do.”

Laughing, his large hand snakes around your neck and pulls you back roughly, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he fucks into you agonisingly slow yet sharp. His warm breath washes over your cheek as he smirks menacingly. “You’re already being a good girl, so what else will you do?”

“I’ll do my job properly, I’ll make sure I never disappoint you.” It’s not even the slightest bit embarrassing as you try your hardest to fuck yourself onto his cock, squeezing for extra friction as you bargain with him. All you need right now is to be pounded mercilessly by the man you crave the most.

Satisfied with your response, he finally obliges, his thrusts becoming faster and more intense, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. The pleasure builds with each movement, your body responding eagerly to his touch. You feel the tension coiling in your core, the edge of climax drawing closer with every thrust.

“Do you want to cum on your boss’ cock?” he asks mockingly, knowing your immediate answer. 

You struggle to give him an answer as his grip on your throat tightens, his digits pressing into your soft neck and cutting off your voicebox, yet somehow, you manage to squeak out a tiny ‘yes’, followed by a throat-ripping moan as he finds your sweet spot.

Suddenly, your phone rings as you move your dildo rapidly in and out of your squelching cunt, the toy now covered in your juices as both you and it work hard to reach that sweet release. Heaving heavily, you see the caller ID ring and your eyes widen, the name ‘Park Sunghoon’ flashing across your screen.

Idiotically, you answer, scared of the reprimand if you don’t, your boss never liking when you answer after more than three rings. Before you get the chance to speak, he is already blaring down the phone at you.

“Y/N, I need you to come in early tomorrow. There is a big meeting with Park Jongseong that we must prepare for,” he begins, tone borderline scolding but not so angry. “Someone forgot to put it in my diary.”

The subtle dig at you only heightens your feelings, the actual scolding you’re receiving meshing in beautifully with your fantasies. Your hand never stops the dildo from thrusting harshly into you, his actual voice much colder and deeper than the one you have in your mind, your body aching for each Sunghoon in its own way.

You stifle a moan but it still leaks through into the speaker, your climax imminent as your wrist quickens and legs spread, the muscles of your thighs and arms tightening with your actions.

“Cum for me, baby” he commands, his voice rough with desire. “I want to feel you cum around my cock.”

“Are you sick? Don’t come in tomorrow if you are, I have to fly to Japan on Thursday.” 

Each CEO blends into one another as you come undone, dropping the phone on your stomach and arching your back off the bed.

The words push you over the edge, and you cry out as the orgasm crashes over you, “Yes, Sir!” your body trembling with the force of it. You can feel your pussy clenching around his cock, the sensation driving him deeper into you. His thrusts become erratic, and with a final, deep thrust, he spills into you, filling you with his release. The hot spurts of his cum coat your battered walls so deliciously, soothing the rawness from the relentless beating.

The room is filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, the aftermath of your climax leaving you both spent and satisfied. Sunghoon pulls out slowly, his hands gentle as they caress your skin. He helps you stand, his touch tender as he pulls you into his arms.

“You did so well,” he murmurs, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl.”

You pant heavily, forgetting for a moment exactly where you are and what you have done, the blurred line of delusion and reality becoming a haze as your eyes fight their way open, your high overcoming your body like a tidal wave

Clearing his throat with a deliberate rasp, Sunghoon's piercing gaze cuts through the haze clouding your senses, snapping you back to the stark reality of your surroundings. The weight of your actions descends upon you like a sudden storm, leaving you breathless and disoriented.

"Tomorrow at 6am, my office," he declares with a steely edge, each word measured and exact as he speaks with a smirk. The earlier rush of pleasure now dissipates into a cold knot of apprehension in your stomach. His voice carries a promise of consequences, leaving no doubt in your mind that he knows exactly what you’ve been doing.

"Do not keep me waiting," he continues, his tone low and ominous, "or you'll be punished.”

He hangs up abruptly, the chilling bleep of the disconnected call makes you swallow, realising that you have completely fucked up and have painted yourself guilty as sin.

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[imsilay]

LETHAL pt.3

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging (aphrodisiac), stalker!König, obsessive König, breeding k!nk, size k!nk. belly bulge, oral (female receiving) (idk lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 2.6k! (it’s too much for me :’) )

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

prev chapter here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

A few days later you wake up feeling uneasy. You had a headache and somehow… horny. You got up and had a cold shower, hoping it would help. It helped… Untill you had a irresistible urge to have something inside your aching and dripping cunt at the work. It was a strange feeling, you assumed it was like that because it’s your ovulation day. Sitting on the chair while typing away on the laptop at work; you had to squeeze your thighs together to ease that feeling. Your pussy already soaked at the time you arrived to home. You cursed at yourself for wearing that skirt because the wetness between your legs were dripping down from your trembling thighs at the time you arrived your front door. You just wanted to open the door and satisfy your soaking cunt with your toys.

“Maus?” your heart skipped a beat when you heard his voice. ‘Please god, not him.’ you prayed. That man was extremely attractive and you were down bad for him. You stopped trying to open your damn door with trembling hands as you turned your head towards him and forced a smile. “Hi, König! What are you doing here?” you tried to be polite and calm, but in your head you were screaming for a dick.

"I saw you from over there," he said, pointing at the parking lot next to his apartment building. His accent sent waves of pleasure to your body. "You seemed in a rush. Are you alright?" There was sincerity in his voice and his icy-blue eyes were filled with concern. It made you blush, from cheeks to ears. You swallowed before answering, "It’s nothing important. I just forgot to feed my cat." It was obviously a lie. One of his eyebrows raised, but he nodded and watched as you entered your house after a short goodbye.

You were just so naive and clueless, thinking he wouldn’t notice you’re squirming with need. Of course he would know. He was the one who sneaked into your home and gave you aphrodisiac last night. He just gave you enough to make you needy so you could made it to home after work.

When he saw you getting out of your car, your legs trembling and cheeks flushed, he almost lost it.. He just wanted to drag you to his house and fuck you until you were a babbling and sobbing mess. Yet he managed to keep his calm. He was impatiently waiting for you to enter your house when he already had his eyes on the window, hiding behind the curtains. When you came to view his heart was beating like crazy. You locked the door of your room and opened the drawer, where you put your toys. Too eager for your sweet release you forgot to close your curtains…

He pressed his forehead against the window as he watched you satisfy yourself with different kinds of toys. His cock was rock hard but watching you was much more of an important matter. His cock twitched at the first time you cum, it was a sight to see. Your eyes rolling back as your hips twitched foward to the device. But one wasn’t enough. You needed more.

After two more orgasm you were sobbing and quivering. You just needed something for your aching cunt but nothing was enough. That was when he decided to step in. He was still so hard but he knew whatever he do it wouldn’t soften his cock. But you. He grabbed the keys of his house. And the cookies he made for you as an excuse.

The knocking on your door drew you back to reality from your bliss. You cursed at the person that knocked on the door as you got dressed into something that you’d wear at home. Your legs still trembling and pussy dripping, already soaked the new pair of your panties. You answered the door and hid the half of your body behind the door.

“Hallo, Maus. I brought you some cookies to fix your mood.” he said with that sweet tone. Your hands grabbed the door handle with a force that could kill a man. That was when you decided that. You would fuck that sweet neighbor.

He wondered why you were staring at him without a word. Were you mad at him because he interrupted your sweet time with your toys? Did you notice the bulge that was straining his pants? Or maybe the way he gazed at you hungrily made you feel hesitant to invite him in?

He was too lost in his thoughts, he dropped the cookies when you grabbed his arm and dragged him in. Pressing his back against the door and clinging to his arm. “König.” you whispered before biting your lips to not moan. His heart hammered his chest a few times like it was trying to escape from his chest to you. “Ja, Maus? Is everything okay?” he stuttered as he looked down at you. Your flushed face and the way you looked into his eyes intensely wasn’t helping.

“I need you.” you whimpered and pressed your body against his. “Can you please give me your cock?” you whispered softly and moaned when you felt his already hard cock against your stomach. He was so big. Like you imagined he would be, it made you even more needy.

“You- What?” he stuttered again. The last thing he expected was the way you rubbed your body against him as you pleaded for his cock. He was used to moving with a plan, but the way you ruined it was even better than he could imagine. By the time he collected himself you were grabbing his arm tightly like he would escape from you if you let go. His pupils were blown wide and body tense. “You have no idea what you’re wanting from me, Maus.” he mumbled and picked you up by your hips carrying you to your room like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs around him. The voice in his mind was screaming for him to take you in that moment. You weren’t complaining about being carried yet you were happy that he accepted. So clueless. If only you knew he was the cause of your endless neediness.

He made you straddle one of his thighs after removing your shorts and leaving you with your panties. “Show me how bad you want me to fuck you.” he said with authority in his eyes. You had a feeling that if you didn’t do as he said you won’t be getting anything. So you did. Hands on his shoulders as you grounded against his thigh. The fabric of your already wet panties soaking his trousers. You moaned as you felt his muscular thigh under your dripping cunt. He was so big and toned. You wondered what his cock looked like. Just thinking about it made you moan in need and your walls clenched around nothing.

He had to bit his lip to not moan at the sight in front of him. You were grounding against his thigh soaking his trousers and moaning like a bitch in heat. His cock throbbed in his pants. Oh how he wanted to tear your panties down and eat your little cunt out… Your body trembled and hips twitched. “Already, Maus? I haven’t seen someone cumming as fast as you.” he taunted. Your hips were already moving frantically to reach your sweet release. His hands found your hips groping them as he helped you move on his thigh. “Guess you really want me.” he mumbled amused with your efforts. You looked so hot when you used his body for your pleasure. “‘m so close, König.” you whimpered and your movements got erratic. You feel your stomach tightening up as he helped you ground against his thick thigh. “Let go for me, Maus.” he whispered sweetly. He knew it wouldn’t be enough for you anyway. Not until he filled you up with his big cock.

You gripped his shoulders tight as you cum undone on his thigh, eyes rolling back and body twitching. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he laid you on your back gently and spread open your leg. “Do you still need my cock?” he teased. His hands caressing your thighs up and down slowly. “Yes. Yes, König. Please give it to me.” you pleaded with that sweet voice of yours, you had no idea how he wanted it too. He looked as calm and sweet as ever, but deep inside him, he was putting you into positions that he wanted to take you. First he would eat you out until you cum on his tongue like he imagined all nights. Then he would put you on all fours and pound into your needy cunt until you cream on his cock. This night he would fulfill all his sick fantasies and you would just let him take you over and over.

His calloused and lengthy fingers were making you shiver and imagine them deep inside you. You had to have it. “König, can you please…” you reached a hand and pulled his hand towards your mouth, as he watched you with curiosity. His mind went blank when you took his fingers into your mouth and swirled your tongue around them. “Scheiße-” he groaned and pushed his fingers into your mouth further. He fucked your mouth with his fingers, covering his index and middle finger with your drool. Your eyes rolled back with the rhythm of his fingers. “So fucking needy.” he growled when he pulled his fingers out of your mouth drawing a whine out of you. He quickly pulled down your panties and cursed again when he saw how your slick clinged to your panties leaving a trail. When the panties were gone, he pocketed it, he shoved his fingers into your dripping tight hole. You screamed when he found that sweet spot curling his fingers and hitting there again and again. “oh my-“ your legs trembled and hands gripped the sheets for dear life. It wasn’t long when your fourth orgasm hit you like a truck. “It amazes me how fast you cum, Maus.” he chuckled lightly as he continued to pump his fingers into you through your orgasm.

“That’s enough.” you whined and grabbed his forearm. His brows frowned and he sent you a warning look. You pulled your hands away immediately like you touched fire. “Nein. We aint stopping, Maus. Not until i make sure you’re mine.” he mumbled darkly as he leaned his mouth into your pussy. He licked from bottom to your clit making you shudder and moan loudly. You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him because you were scared of what he would do. His hands grabbed your thighs firmly to prevent you from closing them. He lapped at your pussy like he was thirsty for a month and you were his only water supply. His mask covering between your legs, where his mouth at, and you was glad it did. Because if you saw him eating you out like that you would’ve gone crazy. His icy-blue eyes found yours when he sucked your clit. The sensation was too much for you especially after cumming that much. “Plea-“ your breath hitched when he forced his tongue inside. Your eyes rolled back and you let out a high pitched scream. You cum all over his tongue and he gladly accepted your juices. Sucking and lapping hungrily.

“Du schmeckst so süß.” (You taste so sweet.) he mumbled as he licked you up for the last time. He pulled back reluctantly feeling like he could dive in again and make you cum over and over again. “Time for the main course, Maus.” he whispered into your ear. “Would you like to take off my mask? So you can see how much i will enjoy fucking your little cunt.” he purred. He was still gentle yet he made you feel weak. Like you couldn’t resist him, even if you wanted to. You grabbed the mask with trembling hands and pulled it off. This was the first time you saw him without his mask. He was handsome despite the scar on his face. Before you could say anything he slammed his lips to yours and grabbed your jaw forcing you to part your lips so he could explore your warm mouth with his tongue. You moaned softly and tasted your arousal from his lips. He swiftly unbuckled his belt with one of his hands and tugged his pants down along with his boxers. He groaned into your mouth when his cock was finally free and fully erected. His lips didn’t left yours as he pressed his red tip against your throbbing clit and made you squirm.

“I wonder were you this needy before the aphrodisiac i gave you.” he mumbled after releasing your lips. Your mind was too foggy after all your orgasms you barely understand what he say. “What did-” he cut you off again but this time shoving his cock inside your tight cunt. His tip hit your cervix and made your toes curl. “Too- Fuck. Too deep.” you sobbed. He stretched you out so deliciously but it hurt like hell. He was so fucking big his cock made a bulge on your belly. He groaned as he rested his forehead against yours. “It will be okay. You can take it, Maus.” he cooed. But it felt like he was sliding you open with his monster sized cock. “You feel so good around me.” he mumbled as he placed kisses on your face. He knew he was too big for you. You were so small compared to him, in every way. He let you adjust his length inside you but it become hard for him to not move when your walls clenched around him. “It hurts.” you cried and gripped his shoulders. “I know, Maus. You’re doing so good f’me.” he kissed your lips until your cries wane. You were so much important than him. He worshipped you.

“I’m gonna move.” he whispered and started to thrust into your tight cunt slowly at first. When your pussy adjusted his length, he picked up the pace. He was bullying his cock into your dripping hole with a merciless pace like he was taking revenge of the time he jerked off while watching you through the window. All you could do was dug your nails into his shoulders and scream his name.

“Scheiße.” he hissed. It was just like how he imagined it would be. He imagined your face twisting with pleasure and screaming his name as he bullied his cock into your little cunt. “Louder.” He slammed his hips into yours hard. Your pussy swollen and dripping from all the stimulation. “I said louder.” he hissed and smacked your hips hard. He wouldn’t stop until you did as he said. So you did. You screamed his name as loud as you can. It made his cock twitch hearing you forcing yourself to slur his name out. “Braves Mädchen.” he cooed as he slammed his lips harder into yours. He threw his head back and groaned when you cum unannounced, creaming on his cock and crying his name. Your walls clenched around him drawing him to edge as he fucked the orgasm out of you. “König, i can’t… anymore.” you whimpered between your sobbing. Hearing you beg him with your voice hoarse from all the screaming and moaning, made him cum deep inside you. “Mine.” he mumbled as he fucked his cum into you. “You’re mine, Maus. And i won’t let you leave me anymore.” he mumbled like he was talking with himself. It sent chills down to your spine. He didn’t pull his cock out plugging his cum into your pussy. You didn’t even had the strength to push him away. He wrapped his arms around you tightly and put your head onto his chest. He wouldn’t let you go. Never. You were his.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :*

also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

this work is basically all the things i want him to do to me.

….

@mitchlow