#scene change then back to the previous scene and...

[zosanbrainrot]

PART 4!!

01 02 03 04

I stg I'm kicking yall in the shins one last time, we're ALMOST done with the angst!

Let me tell you I had this finished(!) twice(!), but no, I had to go back and change it lmao

In my first go the fight scene was much more rough, it was hard for me to draw from the beginning, I'm not really good at this sort of thing. So I took a little break from the comic and when I got back to drawing the last two panels (static ch close ups) they turned out so GOOD and CRISP! I just had to go back and redraw the previous ones. Didn't change the composition back then, just made the drawings less sketchy and fixed minor mistakes. This panel in particular went through bigger fixes, I couldn't get the pose right:

I emphasized the arch in Zoro's back so it's more clear he's hunched over, the head is lower, and the hand on his stomach wasn't looking good, so I switched its direction and I feel it looks more natural now. The whole pose is shifted to the side now, whereas in the previous ones it was more straight up, but I wasn't conveying perspective well.

So after that I had it all exported, loaded into drafts and as I scroll it on my phone I'm like... There should be one more panel where Zoro's getting kicked : | Imma need to change it AGAIN.......

It just didn't flow well. I work on the comic in chunks so I haven't put these panels together before, I always saw them side by side in my main file.

I just didn't like how you go from Zoro getting kicked to him being thrown, it just felt disjointed to me.

So first I looked through the three sole volumes of BNHA that I have at home to maybe understand drawing fight scenes just a little bit better. That's how I got to the new version of Zoro getting kicked so there's more lines showing movement etc. but most importantly you have the kick and Zoro's reaction separate. So now Zoro's face has a bigger closeup, you can see his open eye.

In the previous version it was more distant, the closeup wasn't as big and you couldn't see his expression well. With just the side view you could only see he's in pain but nothing more than that,whereas when you have a full view of his face you can get much more from that. You see where he's looking, you know he's looking at Sanji when he kicks him in the guts.

I guess that's why, in the first version, I was trying to still show his face where he's being thrown off of Sanji bcs I felt the side profile wasn't doing it's job, but at the same time it felt off, like there was less force in the kick bcs his head wasn't following the movement idk. Also he was def too big in the frame. So now Zoro's smaller to emphasize the perspective more, the head is down, the right arm is more to the side and there's more lines, the flame is more aggressive now and bursts into the sides when it comes in contact with Zoro's body to show the impact. I know they could be better still, but this is the best I can do right now and I'm happy with the result!! I'm glad I kept pushing it! These poses were VERY confusing to draw lol

Alsooo, it would make more sense if Sanji threw Zoro in the other direction, over his head like in karate/judo, but I wanted to keep my directions consistent. I had to have Sanji standing back to the carriage, so he doesn't notice the spear being thrown and Zoro facing the carriage so he can get hit from the front, right after he gets up. It's like..... did he not see it? Did he get hit on purpose? You decide lmao

Though I'm probably too rigid with my 'camera', in BNHA you see the action from any and every direction, i guess it adds to the dynamism of it all, also there's just many MANY more panels in manga lmao

Judge giving me major "isn't there somebody you forgot to ask" vibes at the end there lmao I hope you forgot he's even there and this comes as a surprise!

[mxnhoo]

like doing nothing, with you (s. jy)

synopsis : jake who was originally your best friend, had recently became your boyfriend, and you were overwhelmed at the change. genre : fluff, word vomit, not proofread warnings : reader is insecure(?), almost smut, LMK IF I MISSED OUT ON ANYTHING ELSE pairing : sim jaeyun x reader w/c : 3.1k a/n : the 'almost smut' scene was inspired by 'my love story with yamada-kun at lvl999' ch69 hehe. and thank you guys for the amount of love shown on my previous posts! hope this doesnt disappoint!

playlist : "sjy, ilysm."

any interaction w this post is greatly appreciated!

------------------------------

"Hi!" a loud voice spoke out, causing you to shoot your head up over the counter.

A customer.

"Hi! So sorry for not noticing you, what would you like to get?" You quickly fixed your attire, straightening your posture as you focus your attention on the customer.

By now, it was already 10:46p.m, and you were having your first night shift. You had to take over your colleague because she had last-minute issues to attend to, and it didn't necessarily bother you.

What bothered you was Jake.

In your head was only Jake.

Recalling his voice, the way his mouth moved when he talked, the way his eyes lights up when he sees you, and how he runs his hand through his hair.

One specific thing that couldn't stop replaying in your head was when he asked you to be his girlfriend a few days ago.

He had been your best friend for years.. and years.. and you secretly had a crush on him for the longest time. You were practically going through the 5 stages of grief.. except it was for your shocked feeling when he asked you out.

The first stage : Denial.

You were in that stage. Considering that it had only been a few days since you two got together, it's normal. But it was affecting you like crazy.

Everytime you went to the toilet? You thought of Jake.

Everytime you went to your part-time job? You thought of Jake.

Eat, sleep, study and Jake.

"Hello?????" the same voice spoke out again, breaking your train of thought.

Fuck, you were seriously getting distracted, and it was Jake's fault. He was driving you insane.

"Oh my god, I'm really sorry. Could you repeat your order again?" You blinked continuously to keep yourself focused at the customer in front of you, taking a deep breath in.

"Latte. Could I get a Latte for takeout?" the customer answered, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

You quickly nodded, pressing the customer's order into the cash register.

"That would be $5.80. Cash or ca—" "Card."

You nodded, feeling slightly displeased at the way the customer just interrupted you, but you just wanted to get this over with. Both of you were impatient.

You pressed a few buttons onto the card machine, and nodded at him indicating that he could tap his card. He did so, and as the receipt came out, you voiced out again.

"Name for the drink?"

"James."

Your heart jumped up again. James, Jake. Oh man, you were even thinking about Jake when serving customers.

You nodded at the customer and walked to the espresso machine, starting to make the drink.

Brewing, pouring, steaming, and pouring.

After 5 minutes, you were ready to serve James with his order. Carefully placing the plastic lid on the cup, you placed the cup into a small bag and walked up to the counter.

"Latte for James?"

In the corner of your eye, you saw the same guy approaching you. He took the drink, and muttered out a small thank-you before turning his back and making his way to the exit

You nodded your head and turned your back, leaning against the counter. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, the sounds of the door opening and closing filled the cafe.

At this point, the cafe only consisted of you.

Or so you thought. You heard footsteps approaching you and you thought it was the customer, James, wanting to ask for something, so you took a deep breath and turned around.

"Yes, what do you need?" You said loudly, clearly wanting to go home. However, the person who stood behind the counter was in fact not James, but Jake, the person who was driving you insane.

"Hey." He looked at you, giving you his smile. He was wearing his grey zip-up with a white shirt inside. His hair fell so perfectly on his forehead, and he was wearing his thick-rimmed glasses.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you were unknowingly staring at him, unable to process the fact that the boy driving you insane was right in front of you. Your boyfriend was right in front of you.

"Do I look so good that you're staring?" he chuckled, interrupting your thoughts. You regained consciousness and you blink constantly, looking at every single thing except him.

"S-sorry.." you muttered, feeling embarassed.

"No need to apologise, I feel like the luckiest person in the world when you look at me like that." Your eyes flew to him, a shy smile creeping up his lips. The cafe was quite dim, considering that it was night time and the lighting wasn't very bright, but you could see the hint of pink filling his cheeks.

"W-well!" you felt flustered at his comment, and you wanted to change the topic. Why was he here? Was he not supposed to be in bed by now? "W-why are you here?"

"To see my girlfriend, of course, which is you."

Oh my god, his way with words literally have you folding.

"You didn't have to.. it's late" "Why not? And it's also your first night shift right? I wanna take you home."

His voice sounded so genuine, and you could not process that the boy you wanted so bad was treating you like this, so well, just like a gentleman. The warmth that filled your heart was limitless, and at this point of time you just wanted to climb over the counter between the two of you and bring him into your embrace.

"I'll quickly close-up the cafe then, give me about 30 minutes okay?" you said, turning around so he couldn't see how red your face was. Gosh, you were practically a tomato.

"Sure thing, need help with anything?" "No, it's okay. Want a drink before I start to close up?" "It's okay, maybe another day, you seem tired."

The way he was looking after you so much was driving you insane. You weren't someone who was never in a relationship before, but the way Jake treated you, made you feel, was all so different. You were convinced that he was someone who stepped out of a book, a movie, he was too perfect.

You smiled to yourself before grabbing all the used equipment and bringing it to the sink, starting to wash-up.

"You feeling okay? You seem kinda.. spaced out" he said, still at the counter.

You. It was because of you I feel so spaced out.

"I'm okay, just tired.. And the shift timing is different than usual." you replied, back facing him as you continued to wash the equipment.

"Was that guy bothering you?" he said, his tone starting to sound serious.

"Huh? What guy?" "The one you served a while ago. I was entering the cafe while he was leaving."

Oh. James.

"Ah, not at all." "You sure?" "Mhm.." you placed the wet equipment on the drying rack, washing your hands. "Okay.. but you know if you wanna talk about something, I'm always here right?"

God, he's so sweet. Gift from God.

"Thanks, Jake.." you turned your head over your neck, making eye contact and flashing him a quick smile.

"There's the smile I love so much. Keep smiling like that okay? You look so gorgeous."

You couldn't help but to smile more. You faced back to the equipment to the drying rack, taking a towel before individually drying them. You weren't looking at Jake, but you just know he was staring at you.

"I guess you're the one staring now." You teased, feeling less tensed up after how he was so sweet to you.

"Ah, shit, you caught me" — he chuckled — "How can I not when you're so beautiful?"

"Enough with the compliments." You enjoyed all the compliments, but from the amount he was giving you at once, it was quite overwhelming for your heart.

He chuckled, and he made his way to one of the tables, sitting down with his eyes still locked onto you. After cleaning, sorting the equipment, you started to wipe down the counters and sweep the floor.

After sweeping the inside of the counter, you made your way to the seating area of the cafe, cleaning up any crumbs of food. You were hard at work when you suddenly felt a pair of arms embrace you, feeling the warmth against your body. His head was resting on your shoulder, his warm breath hitting your ear. A shy smile creeped up your face as you stopped sweeping to cherish the warmth further.

"Hey, I have to get this done you know?" "Just a few more minutes. I missed you so much." "You have a way with words, y'know?" "Do I?" "Yeah. I feel like my heart is going to explode everytime you say something."

He snickered.

"I could say the same for you." He adjusted his head to the crook of your neck, placing soft kisses on your neck before you shivered and unintentionally pushed him away.

His eyes widened and head tilted, poor boy was confused.

"I'm sorry, did I make you uncomfor—" "No no! I'm.."

You were both having such a good moment and you had to ruin it, all because you were scared and not used to this.

"... sorry.." "Hey, it's not your fault." his voice was soft, reassuring you. "I'll finish up and we'll go, okay?" you looked at him, feeling guilty that you had just pushed him away. "Okay!" his voice was still cheerful. You didn't get it, how and why was he treating you so well even after you just pushed him away?

You got back to work, and after sweeping up majority of the cafe, you went back into the staff room where Jake couldn't see you, and you looked at yourself.

"How does he find me gorgeous when I look like this?" you mumbled to yourself. You sigh to yourself before removing your cap, hair net and apron, putting it nicely to one of the corners in the room.

You punched your card out, and you gathered your belongings. Turning off the light of the staff room, you went back out and was met with Jake's gaze.

His mood instantly lifted when he knew it was time for you to go home. His eyebrows were lifted and a big smile plastered onto his face. He kinda reminded you of Layla, his dog.

You finished closing up and turned off all the lights, making your way to Jake.

"Let's go, I'll take you home" he extended his hand to you, and you hesitated a bit before taking his hand. He instantly interlocked his hands with yours, both of you walking out of the cafe.

He was going to walk you home since your apartment was only nearby, but you were feeling worried since his place was quite far away.

You and Jake had been best friends, reguarly coming over to each other's apartments to hang out, whether it was to play games, gossip, or something else. You were okay with the fact that he was coming over, but this was the first time he was coming over, as your boyfriend.

The reason why you had been so "cold" to your boyfriend was not because you didn't like him. Fuck, you were heads over heels for him. It was just that you and him were always best friends, and you were just not used to him being your significant other. During the friendship, you and him were always close, but now that you and him were actually official, it inevitably made you awkward. You wanted to do so many things with him — beach date, restaurant date, netflix date, arcade date, too many things for you to even list, but you were scared that you'd be "overbearing" for him, so you held yourself back.

The walk back home was silent. Both of you hand-in-hand, swinging your interlocked hands together. The silence was so tense it was making you feel uncomfortable, until his voice broke it.

"Do you feel uncomfortable with me?"

His question was so sudden. The answer was obviously a 'no', but the way you acted with him contradicted it.

"Not at all." you sounded stern. You didn't want to make him wait for a response, so you answered with whatever appeared in your head first.

"You can tell me if anything I'm doing makes you uncomfortable, okay?"

Usually, after he says this, all you can respond with is "okay" or "sure", but you didn't want that. You wanted to open up to him, tell him that whatever he was doing was completely fine, and that you were just not used to it. You wanted to reassure him the same way he did for you.

"Jake." you suddenly called out. "Yes?" his head quickly turned to you, attentive to whatever you're going to say next. "I'm sorry." "For wh—" "The reason why I'm this way is just that.. I'm not used to it."

He was still looking at you, but he didn't say anything.

"To be honest, I've had a crush on you for the longest time"

When you said that, his eyes widened.

"I hope you know this, but I was really happy when you asked me out. But considering that you were a man who had everything, I was, and still am, questioning how the person you chose to be with is me. All those pretty girls after you, and you still chose me. That's one thing I'm confused about."

He was about to speak, but you continued.

"You've always made me feel so special, so happy, that I was convinced that I was out of your league. Not only that, I was your best friend. I was so convinced that I would be stuck in the friendzone for my entire life, considering how much I liked you. The fact that you're treating me so gently, it just makes me go insane. Don't get me wrong, during our friendship, you treated me well too, but the fact that I get to call you 'mine' overwhelms me a lot."

By the time you finished confessing how you felt, you both had already reached the front of your apartment complex. You finally confessed how you felt about him, and it was almost as if all the weight on your shoulder was removed.

You were preparing to say your goodbye's, but he suddenly spoke out.

"Can I stay over?"

Him staying over was nothing new, but your heart started to beat so fast. He tucked the hair on your face behind your ear and looked at you with such loving eyes.

"Of course you can."

Not breaking your interlocked hands, you both enterred the building and stepped into the elavator. As the lift was going up, he suddenly spoke out.

"Did anyone ever tell you how crazy I was over you?"

His words surprised you.

"What?" your eyes shot to him, tilting your head in confusion. "I was going crazy over you. I don't know how you didn't know. I think Sunghoon and Jay got sick of me talking about you so much."

Sunghoon and Jay were the other guys in your friend group. Jake, Sunghoon and Jay were the closest amongst the friend group, and you never questioned it.

The elevator door opened and you both walked out, walking towards your apartment door.

"Those 'pretty girls' you mentioned? I turned all of them down, and I told them that I was courting you."

Your heart felt like it was going to explode at the information he was confessing to you. You nervously took out the keys and unlocked your door, feeling his intense gaze on you.

"I don't want anyone else. I want you and only you, Y/N. The things you make me feel are unexplainable, and it was driving me crazy. I thought that I won the lottery when you accepted me."

You opened your door, stepping in and he follows you. You felt so happy, so elated, contented, fortunate, lucky, and all the other synonyms of 'happiness' at what he was saying.

"I want to make you happy, just the same way you make me feel happy. I want you to hurt me, ruin me."

You locked your front door and turned on the light, then faced him properly. You took both of his hands into yours.

"Jake."

You saying his name made shivers run down his spine. You looked down at his lips.

"I wanna kiss you so bad."

Without wasting anymore time, he leaned in, placing his soft lips on yours. His rhythm matched yours, and he was soft with you. His hands creeped up to your neck, pulling you closer. He tilted his head to get more access. The way he kissed you was so soft and sweet, you felt like you were in heaven.

You were sitting on your bed with no clothes, the blanket covering you. Jake was now shirtless, but still had his jeans on. He was walking back to you after you had requested to turn off the lights.

"W-wait.. I'm not ready yet.." you nervously muttered as he climbed over you. You were caged between his arms.

Despite having dated other people, you never reached this stage of intimacy. Jake was going to be your first, and you felt scared. You felt vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, it felt special especially since he was someone who had always been there for you.

"It's okay, you can take your time, I'm always waiting for you." he comforted you. The room was completely dark, but the smile on his face was visible.

"C-can you see anything?" you nervously asked, feeling completely exposed to him. "Yeah I can. My eyes already adjusted to the dark" he let out a low laugh. "Oh my god.." you groaned. You felt self-conscious about how you looked, afraid that he would suddenly view you differently if he were to see every part of you. "It's okay. No matter what, you're still the most beautiful person in my eyes, okay? I'll tell you that as many times as you want." He tucked a hair behind your ear, looking at you with such an intense gaze.

You looked back at him, maintaining eye contact.

"You can tell me when you're ready, or if you wanna stop now before we take it too fa—" "I'm ready." you cut him off. "Really? Are you sure? You don't have to, I don't think i can hold back once I start.." "I'm sure, Jakey." your hands that were gripping the blanket slowly wrapped around his neck.

He had his arms wrapped around your bare waist, his face resting at the back of your head as he breathes slowly, warm air hitting your neck.

"Y/N" "Yes?" "I love you." "I love you too."

[sunafc]

Just an act - 7, co parenting

masterlist

No one had prepared Y/n to the sight of Kuroo Tetsurou holding her little sister on his shoulders as he walked hand in hand with her. Usually, those rare times Y/n picks up her sister from school, she does so alone. Holding her little hand as she walks her to the ice cream parlor on the way to her house (Where, every time, Mina begs her sister to get her the biggest chocolate and strawberry ice cream and Y/n has to somehow convice her she should get the smaller one because she won’t help her finish it). This time, holding the larger hand of her ‘‘boyfriend’’ as he chats away with little Mina, it’s a nice change, she thinks.

‘Y/n,’ Mina calls from the top of Kuroo’s shoulders, ‘Where did you find a nice boyfriend like this?’

Kuroo laughs but Y/n notices the point of his ears turning slightly pink as he looks at her with anticipation.

‘He found me, actually,’ she says, lips twitching up in the ghost of a smile, ‘You should ask him where did he find such a great girlfriend, actually,’ her tone full of pride.

When they get to the ice cream parlor Mina asks Kuroo to get her the big ice cream and before Y/n can have a word in, he’s already ordering it.

Y/n sighs, ‘She won’t eat it all,’ she says shuffling through her bag in search of her wallet. Kuroo gently grabs her wrist, stopping her, and hold his own wallet in her vision, ‘I’ve got it, and—’ he pays for the ice cream and thanks the girl at the counter, ‘—if Mina gets too full, I’ll help her,’ he puts away his wallet and places Mina back with her feet on the ground, Y/n hands her the cone and she gladly grabs it.

‘Ah!’ Kuroo turns to Y/n in a fast motion and her eyes slightly widen in confusion, ‘Did you also want ice cream?’ he promptly takes his wallet out of his pocket again.

Y/n smiles shaking your head, ‘Satori brought chocolate cake when he got to work,’ she swiftly take his wallet from his hand and place it back in the pocket of his hoodie, ‘And you already paid for my sister, I could’ve paid for myself if I wanted something.’

‘That would make me a bad boyfriend,’ he says holding the door open for the two girls. Y/n thanks him as she exit the shop and when the door closes behind them she slips her hand in Kuroo’s, interlacing their fingers together, ‘I wouldn’t worry about that,’ she squeezes his hand, ‘You’re a pretty good boyfriend,’ she says and winks at him already anticipating the red that soon would spread on his cheeks.

...

‘I want to play!’ Mina is sitting on the floor, on the carpet, her homework on the low table that’s placed in front of the sofa, her head resting on top of the book as she whines.

‘You need to do your homework,’ Y/n goes to sit on the other side of the low table, ‘What do you need to do?’

‘I don’t want to!’ The little girl promptly closes the book and turns the other way, ‘I’ll do homework with mum.’

Y/n groans, ‘Mum will pick you up late, you have to do it now,’ Y/n opens the book again and a sigh escapes her lips.

‘Noo,’ Mina whines again, ‘Let’s play with Kuroo!’

Y/n rolls her eyes, ‘Mina, I’ll tell mum you’ve been bad,’ —this brings the little girl attention back on her sister but she just pouts in response.

‘Y/n, you shouldn’t threaten kids,’ Kuroo says coming back from the kitchen, he sits on the couch and looks at the two girls fondly.

‘You stay out of this,’ Y/n says glaring at him sternly then turns back to the little girl, ‘You gotta do your homework, now, or you’ll grow to be dumb.’

Mina looks offended, ‘You never did your homework though!’ She points an accusing finger to Y/n.

‘How would you even know mh?’ Y/n moves her sister’s hand out of the way, ‘You weren’t even born when I had homeworks!’

‘I heard you say that to Shoyo!’ Mina fires back.

Y/n’s eyes widen for a moment and before she can say anything, Kuroo butts in again, ‘Baby, are you seriously fighting with a child?’

The domestic scene, seeing this new side of Y/n, made all the previous tension he would feel around her evaporate in a moment.

Y/n turns to him, shocked by his betrayal and a little taken aback from the sudden pet name. It was the first time he called her that. ‘I thought I told you to stay out of this,’ Y/n says matter of factly, ‘And you should take my parts!’

Kuroo hums in agreement as he also moves to sit on the carpet, next to Y/n, ‘She’s right, you know,’ he says directed at Mina, and Y/n looks at her with a smirk plastered on her face as she leans on Kuroo’s side until their shoulders are pressed against each other’s, ‘You need to to your homework to learn,’ Mina pouts but he continues to talk, ‘I have homework too, I know it’s really boring, but once it’s done we get to play together mh?’ Mina eyes seem to sparkle at the idea, ‘I can help you do it too, how do you like that?’ Kuroo finally says. Mina nods eagerly.

...

When the time for Mina to leave comes, she doesn’t want to (she proclaims she wants to live with Y/n and Kuroo now, to which Y/n replies that Kuroo doesn’t even live with her so it would make no sense). After a few minutes, and many promises of playing together again from Kuroo, Mina gets convinced to get back to her own house.

‘You weren’t lying when you said you like kids huh,’ Y/n says closing the door behind her after waving one last time at her mother and sister, ‘You were really good with her.’

Kuroo smiles and pokes at her sides, ‘I didn’t know you could be so childish and stubborn,’ he muses, receiving a playful slap on his arm by the girl, ‘I’m sorry... what happened to Kuroo Tetsurou and who are you?’ The girl asks in a teasing tone while squinting her eyes in suspicion.

Kuroo laughs, ‘I guess he died when he saw you fighting with a nine year old,’ he shrugs.

Y/n gasps and mutters something about how he could not understand since he’s an only child then she moves past him and into the kitchen.

No one had warned Y/n of the sight of Kuroo Tetsurou holding her little sister on his shoulders as he walked hand in hand with her, but, also, no one had warned her about the sight of Kuroo Tetsurou washing dishes in her little kitchen (‘I couldn’t let you do all the work, Y/n,’ he had said, ‘I’d be a bad boyfriend and a bad guest,’ to which Y/n had replied that guests weren’t supposed to do chores anyway) as she would dry them and put them away. No one had warned Y/n of how Kuroo Tetsurou would fit so perfectly into her life, into her home, and how that thought would make her feel so content.

When the time for Kuroo to leave comes, Y/n has to fight every urge in her body to stop herself from asking him to please stay. They’re standing on the doorstep, ‘Thanks for today,’ he says.

‘I should be the one to thank you,’ Y/n sighs, ‘Mina loved you,’ —Kuroo chuckles at that— ‘And you even helped me with the dishes.’

‘It was a pleasure,’ Kuroo waves at her, ‘I’ll see y—’

‘Wait,’ Y/n grabs Kuroo by the belt loop of his jeans and pulls him closer, she cups his face with her other hand and she tiptoes to leave a kiss on his cheek, ‘Goodnight,’ she says, satisfied with the slight blush on Kuroo’s face, ‘Text me when you get home, okay?’

notes:

– not much to add to this chapter tbh

– i'm so happy with how this chapter turned out so i hope you guys appreciate it too!!

– as usual if there are typos ignore them idk 🙂‍↕️

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[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 31

Azriel x Reader Fic

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

To follow this fic, follow tag "Keep Moving Forwards Fic" or comment to be tagged in future parts.

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, detailed descriptions of direct physical abuse, and scenes of men hunting women with implied sexual assault. Please read at your own risk.

Word Count: 5.1K

Author's Note: This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

You hated the way these shoes felt. The House of Wind had generously provided a pair of stunning blue pumps, but it had overlooked one crucial fact: you had about as much experience walking in heels as a baby fawn. The woods had not exactly trained you for this. You took a tentative step across your room, feeling your toes smash into the front of the shoes. While you were pleasantly surprised by your ability to balance, each mild shuffle felt like you were torturing your feet. You huffed, plopping down on the edge of the bed, your gown fanning out around you like a defeated banner as you blew a stray tendril of hair from your face.

Leaning down, you hiked the skirt up around your thighs, yanking your already reddened toes from their tiny prisons. From the doorway came a familiar chuckle, and when you glanced up, Azriel stood there, arms crossed, his wings casually fanned out behind him.

Straightening, you sat up with the shoes in hand before chucking them onto the carpet, where one heel clattered over the other. “Those are a death trap,” you declared, pointing at the offending objects.

“I could hear you cursing at them all the way down the hall,” he said, strolling over to sit next to you on the bed.

You dropped your hands into your lap, looking up at him with an exaggerated pout. “How are things downstairs?”

Azriel snorted lightly, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “Oh, you know, the usual chaos. Cassian decided to wear a different suit than the one Nesta picked out for him. Now she’s following him around, threatening to kill him in his sleep if he doesn’t change back.”

You laughed quietly, “That’s about what I expected. Anyone else here?”

Azriel rubbed his hands on his thighs, trying to dry some anxious sweat. “Elain and Lucien arrived a little while ago.”

“How’s Lucien?” you asked, curiosity piqued. Lucien had been very quiet about the ball, likely due to the complicated and still-tentative relationship between the Night and Autumn Courts.

Lucien had been navigating the treacherous waters of familial politics, attempting to reconnect with his estranged brothers. Since Eris had taken over the High Lordship—thanks to a mysteriously convenient assassination of their father—he’d been trying to mend fences with the rest of their testosterone-charged family. From what Elain had shared, Lucien and she had been attending various Autumn Court events and “family dinners,” which typically ended in a shouting match between one or more of the volatile males at the table. The couple often left before dessert, much to everyone’s relief.

Lucien’s reintegration into the Autumn Court had been rocky, to say the least. Many courtiers still viewed him with suspicion, especially after the revelation of his true paternity involving Helion. The court, with its rigid emphasis on bloodline purity, wasn’t exactly rolling out the welcome mat for him. His status was a delicate issue, and despite Eris’s attempts to shield him, Lucien was perpetually walking on eggshells.

You hadn’t yet had the pleasure—or the burden—of meeting Eris or any of Lucien’s other brothers. Tonight marked the first time Eris would attend a formal event at the House of Wind, and the stress of this high-stakes gathering was palpable. You could almost hear the collective holding of breath echoing through the grand halls.

Azriel chuckled, interrupting your thoughts. “Lucien’s playing it cool, but you can tell he’s a bit on edge. It’s like watching a fox trying to pretend it’s a housecat.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “What about you?” you asked, peering up at Azriel. He stared ahead toward the door, his usually calm demeanor slightly off-kilter. You could hear his heartbeat pumping faster than its normal steady cadence.

Azriel shook his head, his lips pressing together in a thin line. “I’m fine,” he said, though his tone betrayed a hint of unease.

You kept your gaze on him. This was one of the few times you’d seen Azriel genuinely unsettled, his usual composure slipping. “You sure?” you probed lightly, eyebrows raised in playful skepticism.

Azriel remained focused on the doorway, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Your heart is beating quickly,” you replied, noting the slight rise and fall of his chest as he took a few steadying breaths, clearly trying to keep you from noticing. “You’re being more aloof than usual.”

Azriel’s brow furrowed, and he tilted his head, a mild offense coloring his expression. “Aloof?” He turned to face you, his brows knitting together. “I’m not aloof.”

You tilted your head to the side, your eyes widening with exaggerated incredulity. “Oh, come on.”

Azriel leaned forward, his dark eyes glinting with mock seriousness. “No, what do you mean by aloof? I’m not aloof.”

You pushed yourself up from the bed, rolling your eyes dramatically, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Mr. ‘I use my shadows to eavesdrop on conversations and hide from groups of people’ thinks he isn’t aloof?” You made your way into the closet, hoping to find footwear that didn’t feel like medieval torture devices.

Azriel’s voice followed you, slightly indignant. “It’s my job!”

You squatted in front of the shoe rack, lined with elegant but impractical heels you had no intention of wearing. “Isn’t there a saying that if you love what you do, you never work a day in your life?” you called back, your fingers brushing over the backs of the shoes.

With a soft, almost magical rustle, a pair of midnight blue flats with a subtle orange shimmer appeared at the end of the shelf. You glanced upwards, a smile playing on your lips as you whispered a quiet thank you to the House.

Slipping them on, you sighed in relief, feeling like you’d been freed from a mini prison. You straightened your dress and walked back into the main room where Azriel now lay sprawled out on the bed, his legs dangling over the edge, feet touching the floor, his back and wings spread across the blankets as he stared at the ceiling.

He glanced sideways at you, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You really think I’m aloof?”

You rolled your eyes again, walking over and wrapping your hand around the bedpost. “I think you’re introverted,” you replied, leaning your head against the wood, a teasing glint in your eyes. “And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“Doesn’t that just make me charming and mysterious?” he asked, winking mischievously.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “If you have to plant the seed of charm and mystery in someone’s head, I think that answers your own question.” You pushed off the bedpost, moving to check yourself in the mirror.

The reflection staring back at you was almost unrecognizable. Your cheeks, once gaunt and shadowed, now had a healthy, rosy hue. Your eyes, once dull and lifeless, sparkled with a light you hadn’t seen in ages. The dark circles that had seemed a permanent fixture had faded. You looked more alive, and it was a feeling you were still trying to get used to.

You heard the rustle of the bed as Azriel sat up. Glancing at him in the mirror, you threw him a small smile. “I just want to make sure you’re doing okay,” you said.

Azriel met your gaze in the reflection, his expression softening. “I should be the one worried about you,” he replied, rising and pulling down the legs of his pants, straightening his jacket over his broad shoulders.

You turned to face him, leaning your hips against the dressing table, hands braced on either side. “Doesn’t mean I can’t also be concerned about your wellbeing.”

Azriel gave a tight smile, a hint of gratitude in his eyes. “I just don’t love these parties.”

Your own amused smile glimmered to your face as you crossed the room to him, your hands reaching up to straighten the collar of his jacket. The fabric was smooth and cool under your fingers, and you noticed the subtle blue threads woven into the dark cloth, catching the light with a gentle shimmer. Azriel’s eyes softened further, following your movements with a warmth that sent a flutter through your chest.

Satisfied with the collar’s alignment, you met his gaze, his eyes lingering on you with a gentle intensity. You patted his chest, feeling the firmness of his muscles beneath the finely tailored suit. “That’s the aloof part coming out.”

Azriel scoffed, rolling his eyes and pushing back slightly, though his lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I prefer enigmatic.”

You laughed lightly, gripping his arm as he tried to pull away. “I’m sorry,” you drawled playfully. “Just was an easy shot.” You held onto his jacket a bit tighter as he pulled you to him, wrapping you in a bear hug. The warmth of his body seeped through the fabric.

“You’re insufferable,” he whispered, shaking you lightly, the vibrations making you giggle.

“And yet you suffer me,” you retorted, your face buried in his chest, muffling your laughter against the soft fabric.

Azriel released you, “Every day is a new day of suffering when you’re around,” he teased back.

From down the hall, the faint strains of violins and piano floated up the stairs, their melodies intertwining in a harmonious dance. 

Azriel sighed, looking down at you with a tight smile, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “We should go down.”

You nodded as Azriel extended his elbow to you, the gesture almost comically formal. You stared at it, one brow arching incredulously. “Are we really these kinds of fae now?”

“Well, might as well put on a good show,” he responded, his lips quirking into a playful grin.

Wrapping your hands around his forearm, you felt the solid strength beneath his sleeve, the warmth of his skin through the fabric. His muscles relaxed slightly as your fingers pressed into him.

You and Azriel stepped out of the room, the soft glow of faelights casting a gentle sheen on the polished floorboards as you walked down the hall towards the source of the merry strains. The music grew louder, filling the air with a sense of festivity.

“I feel ridiculous,” you whispered, the dress rustling softly with each step.

“You should see how you look,” Azriel taunted, his tone light and teasing.

You gave him a hearty elbow in the stomach, feeling the firmness of his muscles under your nudge, though it barely moved him. “Kidding,” he quickly followed up, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “You look great.”

As you and Azriel descended the sweeping marble staircase, the strains of music grew ever more pronounced, each note reverberating through the grand hall and mingling with the fluttering of your heartbeat. The staircase was bathed in the soft glow of faelight, casting intricate patterns on the polished stone beneath your feet, and the opulent banister, adorned with golden filigree, gleamed in the ambient light. Azriel’s reassuring squeeze on your hand anchored you as you reached the bottom.

You pushed open the ornate double doors to the grand ballroom, your breath catching in your chest at the sight that unfolded before you. While you had been involved with the planning and decorations, the transformation of the space was nothing short of breathtaking. The room was a living, breathing embodiment of elegance, a symphony of colors, lights, and textures that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

The ceiling soared above you, draped with cascading garlands of autumn leaves, their hues shifting from deep crimson to burnished gold, interwoven with shimmering strands of faelight. Chandeliers hung like glittering constellations, their crystal prisms scattering light in a thousand rainbows that danced across the gleaming floor. The walls were lined with tall, arched windows, their mullions draped in rich velvet curtains of deep blue.

The great hall was alive with movement and music, the harmonious melodies of violins and a grand piano filling the air, their notes weaving through the laughter and conversations of the fae in attendance. Fae of all courts glided across the floor in a whirlwind of flowing gowns and finely tailored suits, the vibrant fabrics swishing and swirling in time with the music. The variety of attire was dazzling, each ensemble more intricate and resplendent than the last.

You marveled at the Autumn Court attendees, their attire reflecting the splendor of their season. Gowns of fiery red, rich burgundy, and shimmering gold adorned the fae, their outfits detailed with delicate embroidery depicting leaves and vines, and accented with gemstones that sparkled like embers. The Night Court fae wore attire that mirrored the midnight sky, with deep blues, blacks, and silvers, their clothing often adorned with subtle, luminescent patterns that caught the light like distant stars. Spring courtiers flashed about in pastels and soft silks, while Day court attendees were drenched in golden jewelry.

You took in the sight of the dancers, their movements graceful and fluid as they twirled and spun across the floor. The room was a kaleidoscope of motion, the fae weaving in and out, their laughter a musical accompaniment to the live orchestra that played on a raised platform. Couples waltzed beneath the glittering chandeliers, their steps perfectly synchronized with the lilting strains of the music, their faces illuminated with joy.

Azriel’s hand tightened around yours, pulling you gently from your reverie. He led you into the room, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the overwhelming splendor. His eyes, always sharp and vigilant, softened as he took in your wide-eyed wonder. “You look like you’ve seen magic for the first time,” he murmured, his voice carrying a note of fond amusement.

Your gaze darted around the room, trying to absorb every detail. “It’s just… it’s so much more than I imagined,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 

Azriel smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Nesta outdid herself, didn’t she?”

You nodded, your eyes tracing the path of a garland that wove its way around the towering columns, each leaf seeming to flutter in an unseen breeze. “She did,” you agreed, your voice filled with awe. “It’s like stepping into a dream.”

It seemed that merely speaking her name conjured her, as Nesta, the ever-diligent hostess, glided through the throng of partygoers. Her face lit up in a bright smile the moment she spotted you, her eyes sparkling under the golden faelight. Her gown was nothing short of breathtaking: a flowing cream masterpiece with a high neckline and intricate pearl embroidery that darkened elegantly as it reached her neck. Her hair was an intricate marvel of its own, braided into a low bun adorned with tiny golden stars that shimmered delicately between the plaits.

“Y/N!” she greeted, her voice breaking into a smile as she reached out and clasped your hands, her touch warm and reassuring. “You look stunning!” she exclaimed, stepping back to take in your ensemble, her eyes dancing with delight as she looked you up and down.

“Look at you?!” you countered, motioning with a sweep of your hand over her exquisite gown.

Nesta smirked, gracefully lifting the skirt of her dress and giving it a playful twirl. “Isn’t it gorgeous?” she said, her voice brimming with pride and amusement.

From behind you, Azriel chimed in, his tone softer, “You look beautiful, Nesta.”

Nesta’s gaze shifted over your shoulder, her eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Azriel’s appearance. Her tongue pressed into her cheek, and a mischievous glint lit up her eyes. “Well, well, well, the Shadowsinger cleans up nicely.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Nesta’s expression softened, her smile turning genuine as she gave Azriel an appreciative nod. “You look great, Az.” Then, her attention snapped back to you. She lifted the upper skirt of your dress lightly, examining the material with a keen eye. “The House really outdid itself, didn’t it?”

You felt a small rush of gratitude, though it quickly turned to mild embarrassment as Nesta’s eyes narrowed slightly, her brows knitting together when she noticed your lack of heels.

You quickly smoothed down the dress, offering her an apologetic smile. “I couldn’t do the shoes.”

Nesta's eyes twinkled with amusement as she tilted her head. “I’m just impressed you convinced it to let you wear flats. The House usually prefers heels.”

You sighed in relief, your shoulders relaxing. “Well, I think it saw me struggling to take steps and decided not to let me scuff the floors all night.”

Nesta laughed, the sound warm and light. “I guess I’ll have to complain more.” She glanced over your shoulder, her eyes catching someone’s attention as she raised a hand to wave. “I have to do the rounds,” she said, already moving away, her attention shifting to the fae she was flagging down. “But I’ll see you a little later?”

You nodded, returning her smile. “Definitely.”

As she disappeared into the crowd, you turned to find Azriel leaning casually against the wall, his posture relaxed yet alert, his eyes scanning the sea of bodies. You joined him, standing close to his side. “I said hi to Nesta. Can we leave now?” you joked, a playful tone in your voice.

“I wish,” he grumbled, though his eyes softened as he looked at you.

You took a moment to absorb the scene, the room alive with color and movement. Gowns of deep emeralds, shimmering golds, and striking crimsons twirled in the warm glow of the chandeliers. The soft strains of violins wove through the air, mingling with the quiet hum of laughter and conversation. It felt as if you had stepped into a painting.

As you turned to comment, Azriel muttered something under his breath, his eyes narrowing. Before you could ask, he gently grasped your arm, pulling you closer with a surprising urgency.

You were about to protest when another male approached, cutting a striking figure in a white tunic with a low-cut V-neck, embroidered with swirling red and orange leaves along the collar, and a deep maroon jacket that framed his muscular frame. His skin, a creamy canvas, was freckled like a dusting of autumn leaves. The voice that crooned like smoldering embers purred, “Azriel. It’s been too long.”

You glanced up, taking in the male’s sharp, chiseled features—a jawline as defined as his toned chest, russet eyes flecked with gold, and ginger curls styled back with a hint of rebellion. His lower lip, full and inviting, curved into a smile that revealed dimples at the corners, adding a touch of charm to his otherwise imposing presence.

Azriel’s grip on your arm tightened slightly, a barely audible growl rumbling in his throat. The red-haired male’s grin was sharp, laced with a poison that seemed designed to provoke Azriel.

“Philip,” Azriel responded, his voice strained, almost choking on the name.

Philip’s eyes flicked over Azriel with predatory ease, sizing him up with a single glance. “You look halfway decent,” he said, his tone dripping with calculated condescension.

Azriel’s jaw tightened, his response terse, “As do you.”

Philip’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes lingering on where Azriel’s hand rested on your arm, as if he were contemplating where to place his own claim. His smile widened into a feline curl. “And who is this,” he paused, eyes sweeping over you, “stunning creature?”

Azriel took a deep, steadying breath, his fingers tracing the length of your arm to settle possessively on your lower back. “This is Y/N,” he said, his voice firm yet restrained, his jaw clenching ever so slightly.

Philip’s smile broadened, his long fingers extending towards you. “Exquisite,” he murmured, lifting your hand and pressing a kiss to it that lingered just a fraction too long. Azriel’s muscles tensed beside you, his grip tightening as Philip’s lips touched your skin.

When Philip straightened, his eyes darted back to Azriel, a flicker of satisfaction in their depths. “And to what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you?” he purred, his voice a silken caress.

Azriel exhaled sharply through his nose, his breath a barely restrained growl. “I’m a friend of Nesta’s,” you interjected, your smile syrupy sweet. You sensed the animosity crackling between the two males and refused to become a pawn in their unspoken battle.

Philip’s auburn brows arched, his head tilting in feigned curiosity. “I wasn’t aware Nesta kept such,” his gaze swept over you again, “delectable company.”

Your smile turned razor-sharp, your voice laced with saccharine defiance. “I like to think I elevate her tastes.”

Philip’s eyes glittered with amusement, his smile twisting into something more predatory. “Azriel,” he said, his tone almost playful, as he shifted his attention back to the Shadowsinger, “would you mind if I borrowed this,” his eyes flicked back to you, “most enchanting creature for a dance?”

Azriel’s jaw clenched visibly, his eyes narrowing as he fought to keep his composure. “Actually,” he began, his voice low and measured, “we were just about to—”

You placed a hand on Azriel’s chest, feeling the tension radiating from him. “It’s alright,” you said softly, though your eyes remained locked on Philip’s. “I wouldn’t want to deprive him of a dance.”

You felt Azriel’s fingers flex lightly on your back, a silent plea for caution. Before he could respond, you cut in, your voice laced with a subtle challenge, “I’m sure I don’t need Azriel to give me permission.”

Philip’s smile widened, a wolfish grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Quite right,” he purred, extending his hand with an elegant, yet predatory flourish. You slipped your own into his grip, which tightened more than you liked, a vice masked as politeness. As he led you into the undulating crowd, you glanced back at Azriel. His eyes blazed, shadows pooling around his feet, his jaw set in a rigid line. You gave him a small nod, brows arching in reassurance, though it felt like a lie even to yourself.

Philip maneuvered you through the mass of swirling fae, his hand sliding possessively low on your hip, just shy of indecency. The kiss he planted on your hand was a charade of gallantry, a veneer over his palpable menace. He drew you close, the fabric of your dress whispering as it brushed against his maroon jacket, which seemed almost aflame under the ballroom’s lights.

His gaze pierced yours, an intensity that made your skin prickle. “So, why are you really here?” he murmured, his breath warm and dangerously close to your ear.

You moved with calculated grace, the swish of your dress a soft counterpoint to the music. “I’m sorry?” you replied, maintaining an air of innocent confusion.

“You’re not a court member,” Philip continued, his eyes flicking over you, assessing. “I’ve never seen nor heard of you. Your dancing lacks formal training,” he added, his voice dripping with condescension, “and you’re not even wearing heels.” His gaze flicked to your flats, though you resisted the urge to look down. “But most intriguingly, Azriel seems to have an interest in you. So, tell me, how did you infiltrate this social circle?”

The sugary sweetness in your tone dissipated, replaced by a cold edge. “Are you implying that I don’t belong here?”

Philip spun you into a light twirl, his grip tightening as you moved. “I’m simply saying it’s curious that the Night Court is now taking in strays.”

You swallowed the sting of his words, your voice icy. “Perhaps I’m just good company.”

“Oh, undoubtedly,” Philip conceded, his smile curling like smoke. “But good company doesn’t grant one the right to sit at the high lord and lady’s table.”

You matched his calculated turn with your own precision. “I’m not at their table.”

“But you’re living in their home,” he countered smoothly, pulling you closer, his chest brushing against yours. His eyes bore down on you, every inch the predator.

“Nesta and Cassian’s home,” you corrected sharply, trying to create even a semblance of space between you, though his grip remained ironclad.

Philip’s gaze never wavered, his expression one of calculated menace. “And what exactly is your business with Azriel?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lied, your heart pounding, your composure slipping for just a fraction of a second.

A low growl rumbled from Philip’s chest. “My initial question was how much he was paying for your company tonight.”

The shock of his words hit you like a blow, but you recovered swiftly, though your pulse thundered in your ears. Your voice as sharp as broken glass. “I appreciate that you think I would be worth paying for, but I’m afraid I’m not in that business.”

Philip's purr deepened, an unsettling sound as he spun you again, his grip unyielding. “How much would you charge?” he asked, his words laced with a sickly sweetness that made your skin crawl.

“More than you could afford,” you snapped back, your smile a brittle veneer as he pulled you into him once more, the heat of his body oppressive.

“You may underestimate my affluence,” Philip countered, his voice a dangerous whisper.

“Philip,” you retorted, spinning out and back in, your movements more forceful. “There’s no amount in the world that would make me climb into your bed.”

For a moment, his mask slipped, irritation flashing across his face before he smoothed it away, his predatory smile reasserting itself. “You think highly of yourself.”

You lifted your chin defiantly. “Like I said, I elevate Nesta’s standards.”

“Indeed,” Philip said, his teeth flashing in a grin that was all sharp edges.

The music tapered off, the notes fading into a hum as applause rippled through the ballroom. Yet, Philip’s hold on you didn’t loosen, his eyes locked onto yours in a predatory stare, each of you testing the other’s resolve.

A familiar voice, deep and commanding, cut through the tension. “Philip,” Cassian announced, his presence a sudden, imposing shadow behind you.

Philip’s eyes flicked up above your head, his cocky grin faltering as Cassian loomed behind you, a massive figure even compared to the imposing Autumn Court heir. “Cassian,” Philip greeted, his tone strained but polite.

“I’ve been sent to retrieve this one,” Cassian announced, his heavy, reassuring hand settling on your shoulder like a comforting anchor.

Philip’s gaze returned to you, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was trying to find a reason to hold on just a bit longer. The rumble of his voice vibrated through you. “Well then, thank you for the dance,” he purred, the murmur originating from deep within his chest where it pressed against yours.

You felt an odd mix of relief and lingering discomfort as Philip finally released you, the phantom sensation of his hands still lingering on your hips and back. You stumbled slightly into Cassian, who steadied you with his hands, broad and firm, gripping your shoulders. “The pleasure was all mine,” Philip finished, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

Cassian turned you from Philip, effectively blocking him from your view with his substantial frame. The sensation of taking your first full breath in what felt like ages was almost overwhelming. Had you even breathed since you set foot on the dance floor? You weren’t sure.

Cassian leaned in, his voice low and reassuring, “Way to hold your own out there.” You could hear the amusement in his tone, a contrast to the dread still buzzing in your veins.

As you navigated through the crowd, which parted effortlessly before Cassian like waves before a ship, you scanned the sea of faces for Nesta, expecting her to be at your destination. But instead, the crowd parted to reveal Azriel, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, a shadow of tension easing from his features as his eyes found yours.

Turning to Cassian, who, you now noticed, wore a suit that clashed hilariously with Nesta’s meticulously chosen ensemble, you asked, “Didn’t Nesta need something?”

Cassian chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that vibrated through his chest. “I have no clue. I’ve been avoiding her all night.” He steered you right up to Azriel, flashing him a triumphant grin. “Mission accomplished.”

Azriel merely rolled his eyes, though his posture relaxed a fraction. “What mission?” you asked, still feeling the residual tremor in your voice.

“The one where I get you away from Philip so Azriel doesn’t rip his spinal cord out and beat him with it,” Cassian replied cheerfully, clapping a hand on your shoulder as if you’d just completed a particularly grueling training session.

Azriel let out an exasperated scoff, his eyes darting to you with a mixture of apology and frustration. “No, I asked you to see if they were almost done dancing.”

Cassian shrugged, holding out his hands in mock innocence. “You asked me to ‘check in’ and ‘intervene’ if I thought things were going poorly. With my expert training,” he puffed his chest out slightly, a theatrical gesture, “I assumed things weren’t going well.”

You felt Cassian’s grip loosen slightly as he craned his neck around. “I gotta go,” he said hurriedly, his eyes wide with a flash of panic. He quickly melted back into the throng of party-goers.

Turning to see why he left so abruptly, you spotted Nesta bearing down on him with a glare that could cut diamonds. Her eyes were narrowed, a storm brewing behind them. It was clear that Cassian had sensed the oncoming tempest and had wisely chosen to make a swift exit.

You shifted your gaze back to Azriel, who was chewing on his lower lip, his leg bouncing restlessly against the wall. His eyes met yours, concern etched into his expression. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

You nodded, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “Yeah.”

Azriel’s gaze sharpened, reading the unease in your stance. “Need a break?” he suggested, his tone laced with understanding.

You nodded again, more fervently this time.

“Let’s go get some air,” Azriel said, his voice soothing as he pushed off the wall. His hand found its way to your lower back, guiding you gently but firmly. The warmth of his touch was a stark contrast to the lingering chill left by Philip, and though you flinched slightly at first, you allowed Azriel’s hand to remain there.

He steered you through the crowd, his path straight and purposeful. The swirl of colors and the murmur of conversations blurred around you as you focused on the cool promise of the outdoors. Azriel navigated through the sea of fae with ease, his hand never leaving your back.

Reaching a set of glass balcony doors, he pushed one open, and the rush of cool air hit you like a soothing balm. The tension that had coiled around you inside the ballroom began to unravel. You stepped out onto the balcony, the night air crisp and refreshing against your heated skin. The moonlight bathed the balcony in a soft glow, casting long shadows that danced gently with the breeze and as you took a slow breath out, the tendrils of mist curled out into the night. 

To my readers, I promise I will get consistent with my 12:00 posting again. Life has just thrown a few curveballs my way: @thatacotargirl @mcuamerica @lilah-asteria @florabelll @fightmedraco @marvelbros-oneshots @mariahoedt @quinzzelx @romantasyreader28 @minnieoo @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @annabethgranger123 @krowiathemythologynerd @scatteredstardustt @romantacyreader28 @caroline-books @slytherintaco @sevikas-whore @sidthedollface2 @405rry @sleepylunarwolf @acourtofbatboydreams @quiettuba @julesofvolterra @skylarkalchemist @darling006 @rhysandorian @loglady00 @caninne

[jgroffdaily]

That faraway shore’s not looking too far for Jonathan Groff!

The Merrily We Roll Along star nabbed the award for best performance by a leading actor in a musical for his work in the Broadway revival of Stephen Sondheim’s 1981 musical at the 2024 Tony Awards on Sunday, June 16.

After taking the stage to accept his first-ever Tony Award, Groff, 39, thanked his family for "always allowing my freak flag to fly without ever making me feel weird about it."

Through tears, the actor also addressed his Merrily castmates Daniel Radcliffe and Lindsay Mendez, saying, "You are more than old friends — you are soulmates. And I’m looking forward to watching each other change for the rest of our lives."

Groff, whose previous credits include roles in Glee, the Frozen franchise and Mindhunter, has been nominated for two Tonys before — in 2007 for Spring Awakening and 2015 for his portrayal of King George III in the original Broadway run of Hamilton — but Sunday marked his first win.

He went on to thank “Merrily We Roll Along” director Maria Friedman and fellow cast members Lindsay Mendez and Daniel Radcliffe, the latter of whom also won his first Tony Award on Sunday.

“You are more than old friends, you are soulmates,” he said of the two actors, “and I’m looking forward to watching each other change for the rest of our lives.”

He ended his speech by looking back on his childhood in Pennsylvania, when he would record the Tony Awards on VHS.

“To actually be able to be a part of making theater in this city and just as much to be able to watch the work of this incredible, incredible community has been the greatest gift and pleasure of my life,” he said.

Jonathan Groff thanked his family for backing his love for theater in a touching acceptance speech after his first-ever Tony Award win on Sunday.

The actor and singer, who previously received Tony nominations for his roles in “Spring Awakening” and “Hamilton,” won Best Actor in a Leading Role in a Musical for his portrayal of Franklin Shepard in the Broadway revival of “Merrily We Roll Along.”

“Thank you for letting me dress up like Mary Poppins when I was 3. Thank you for letting me act out scenes from I Love Lucy on my 10th birthday. Thank you for always allowing my freak flag to fly without ever making me feel weird about it,” said Groff of his parents, Jim and Julie Groff, and his brother, David.

He continued, “Even if they didn’t always understand me, my family knew the lifesaving power of fanning the flame of a young person’s passions without judgment. I walked through life with an open heart because you let me know that I could.”

Groff mentioned his move to New York, where he got a job waiting tables and volunteered with Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids, and expressed his gratitude to those involved in “Spring Awakening” who helped him become part of the Broadway community.

″[You] not only made that dream come true but also inspired me to come out of the closet when I was 23,” said the actor, who came out as gay in 2009.

“I’m now 39 and musical theater is still saving my soul.”

[premamelody]

funky

imma add to this more later but essentially murder drones but what if it was indie rpg insteaddd.

earthbound was cycling in my mind recently so i thought of rpgs inspired by it and was like "hey md can kinda be a fire jrpg in that."

boom. you can technically call it md but eb bc thats what i was kinda thinking the entire time but eh.

ofc the mc has to have a bat. its law. dw thats not the main reason, i feel like she'd have that chilling around. also stains from working with stuff on her shit from like oil or dust or smth. btw yeah she still has her jacket but only puts it on to leave, i'll design that at some point. also scene x punk x emo bc woohooo wooohoo woohooooooooo. i considered adding cybergoth but i think i honestly forgot.

but for n i thought it would be funny if like. all the mds were like. interns or smth. "murder interns murder interns!!" type of thing. like thats the lie they're told is that they're just new members of jcjenson sent to copper 9 to rid of drones and that they'll one day be able to have a position (lies). so under their coats are just basic business outfit wear. i probably will barely change j considering she already fits this. so n just has like a generic polo shirt with khakis (yes i looked this up) underneath i thought that would be so funny.

but yeah the story doesn't really change toooo much. well the general plot, the scenery and bg lore of the life on copper 9 may or may not be different >:3. what i gotta have enemies that aren't just mds somehow. i think i have planned that the absolutesolver on their previous arrival screwed around and made many life that was killed by the core explosion come back to life in a sense as like zombies or smth. mother 1 core.

also take neon lime hair uzi. it was the fill color i used before giving it the actual color but i kinda like it. i think uzi will kill it in green hair maybe with a black fade at the top :333

[nugromancer]

Recap Notes from the Dragon Age: The Veilguard Game Informer Article

I watched a livestream by YouTuber Jackdaw and pulled what I could from the article presented. These are things I found interesting or exciting.

⚠️ We're entering Massive Spoiler Territory here so proceed with caution!

The first 2-page spread is recapping everything we've seen in the gameplay trailer so. Nothing really of note here.

When Rook passes out after the intro's climax, they wake up in the Fade with Solas (Hello??) who explains that some of Rook's blood got into the ritual, and now they're connected with the Fade forever. (Oopsies!)

The two "Mystery" characters that show up at the end of the climax are Elgar'nan, Elven god of Sun and Vengeance, and Ghilan'nain, Mother of Halla (or, if you've read Tevinter Nights, Mother of Monsters/Mad Scientist/Elf God Frankenstein)

Solas was trying to create a new prison for these two because the one he fashioned before was failing. And Rook ruined everything for everyone. (Oopsies again!)

It turns out the place you land in the Fade is The Lighthouse, which has been Solas' hideout. There's a table set for One which is supposed to show how Solas has been.

So basically:

Solas has also painted all over the walls of the lighthouse. :)

The library is where the team will have it's meetings and decide what to do next.

An elf Rook has extra dialogue options wrt the Fade

The team decides to go back to Arlathan forest, but they don't arrive back to the temple/castle from the climax. Instead they encounter a Sentinel, which is a "demon infested suit of mechanized armor" (HELLO??? 👀 Ghost in the Machine / Possessed Gundams Real)

We get to meet Strife and Irelin from the comics/stories! Yay!

They're looking for Bellara; full name confirmed as Bellara Lutara (we love a good rhyming name)

Longer cut scenes

Rook's story is about "What is means to be a leader"; how you respond to things changes how characters interact with Rook.

Special Relationship Meter on each companion's character screen (just like DA2!)

Both warriors and rogues can parry (though rogues have a larger "parry window") and while Mages can't parry, they have an automatic magic shield, providing they have the mana for it.

Bellara specializes in lightning and healing magic

"Despite the dire situation, Bellara is bubbly, witty, and charming."

If you encounter an enemy with a specific weakness, you can equip a rune that will temporarily change your magic to something else. eg: Sentinals are weak to lightning magic. If you only have ice magic, you can equip a lightning rune to change your ice attacks to lightning based ones "for a brief duration."

Bellara has a "Tinker" skill which is needed to deal with "Veil Bubbles". Rook can get this skill too, so you don't need Bellara in the party with you when dealing with the bubbles. (I can't tell if it's specific to Veil Jumpers or not.)

Darkspawn are showing up farther and farther away from the deep roads due to the blights "radiation-like spread," so we'll be encountering them more often than we have in previous games.

Relationships now have Levels, which in turn gives you Skill Points to spend on companions. Bespoke gear, abilities, etc.

Mages can use magical daggers 👀

This was confirmed already but I still love it: We'll be travelling across Thedas using our own (*coughs* technically Solas') network of eluvians.

Not open world, but a mix of linear story-driven areas and larger areas for exploring. (Again, we knew this, but I'm glad they didn't nerf exploration completely.)

Mini maps are still around. Linear story areas won't have a "fog of war" filter over them.

"Veilguard has the largest number of diverse biomes in series history."

[sweet-rabbit]

general question GW fandom, but as i have not seen the uncensored version of the show, i just wanted to check something... does trowa really and truly do NOTHING to dorothy after finding she had shish-kabobed quatre? like, am i remembering this correctly and am i justified to still be annoyed by it some 20 odd years later??? is it slightly different in the uncensored version outside of high blood content, please, somebody tell me...

[lonely-night]

bonus:

[arodrwho]

christ alive what an episode though

[paper-star-ships]

Secrets Of Dum//bledore was SO bad y’all 😭😭

[winter-spark]

Being a fan of a rare pair that's not technically a rare pair but also isn't very popular is hard. You see that people generally seem to enjoy/love it but new content does not come frequently.

[ao3commentoftheday]

Bear with me here because I might end up torturing this particular metaphor, but when it comes to trying to get the image of a scene onto the page in the form of descriptive narrative, it might be useful to approach it like a visual artist.

If you've ever watched an artist do their thing (or if you're an artist yourself), you know that they don't just start at the top left corner of the page and draw the entire scene in all its detail, all in one go. I'm going to use an example of digital drawing with the use of software like Photoshop here because I have no idea if this metaphor will work with pencil and paper.

You have an image in your head. It might be super clear. It might be more vague. When you're starting to describe it, just sketch it in. Create a layer of broad strokes information like what the location is, how many people are in it, and what activity is happening.

Then add in a layer - whichever one is easiest. Let's pretend it's the location. Read through the sketch that you currently have and see where you have opportunities to describe the location. You don't have to front load everything at the top of the chapter, for example. You can add in details about the location as the characters move through it.

Add another layer. Are the characters' appearances different from what they previous were? Are you just establishing them at the start of the story? Do they have a "uniform" that they wear in canon that you've opted not to change? You can add in whatever details here you want, and again don't feel like you have to put it all in the same place. You can talk about a ponytail falling loose partway through an action. Or wait until someone else comments on a character's new pair of shoes.

Add another layer. What are the characters doing? How are they moving? Interacting?

Another layer. What are they saying? How do they sound?

Another layer. What other sounds are in the room? What smells? Do these change? Appear or disappear?

Keep going back and forth, toggling your way through your layers, adding things in here and removing them there. Every artist knows that sometimes a line just doesn't go in the right place and you have to erase it and draw it again.

Remember that no amount of work will give your reader a perfect representation of the vision in your mind, but also please know that that's okay.

By the time you finish your scene, some of those early layers might not exist anymore, and that's okay too. They were the sketch that started your verbal drawing. The base you used to guide your inks. Your final render won't have every line or brush stroke in it, and it'll be all the better for it in the end.

[sexybritishllama]

in further neopets discord news, oh boy is there drama in my awful virtual pet game website today. strap in if you want way too much information on neopets’ broken economy

for some context, an event has just launched called the faerie festival. this is the first event to be run by the ‘new’ TNT (aka. the neopets team aka. the staff) since the leadership change, and they've said in recent editorials that this year’s faerie festival is going to be a combo of two previous popular events:

the faerie quest event, wherein people can get a free quest from a faerie every day in exchange for a reward (something that’s normally limited to random special events and therefore quite rare)

the charity corner, a highly requested event that hasn’t run since 2020, where you can donate random items to get points that can then be exchanged in a prize shop

there’s a LOT of ultimately worthless items on neopets that people gather from doing dailies and things, but charity corner actually gave a use to hoarding all of these, so people have wanted it back for ages. people have been going out of their way to hoard extra junk items for like 2 months now, after TNT teased the event in an editorial

this event was originally meant to start on 20th august, but got delayed 2 weeks, presumably because of issues behind the scenes. people were generally a bit disappointed but relieved if this meant they were going to get a proper, well prepared event without bugs

flash forward to 2nd october, the actual start of the event. nothing actually opens up for several hours on the day- that’s somewhat waved off by the fact that staff presumably need to be in the office to launch everything, a midnight launch isn’t expected

but, eventually, it opens!

well… kinda. there’s one page with one dialogue scene available and a link to an event page for spending neocash (the premium currency that costs irl money). the faerie quest page is giving out free daily quests, which is nice, but literally just the same as they did back in 2020. where’s the item recycling part? did this really need 2 weeks of delay?

the next day, the FAQ page for the event is published neopets support site (but not announced via news). still no sign of the actual event starting- seems like that might not be until moday?

as well as multiple grammatical errors, the FAQ had a few… concerning elements. most notably:

only 10 items could be donated per day

points would be awarded based on the rarity of the item, with the maximum rarity being r200-500, worth 15 points each

this meant people's hoarding of junk items for months was... essentially useless

r200-500 items basically means either hidden tower items (rare, expensive items that can only be bought in an account age locked shop with a purchase limit of 1 per day) orrrr….. neocash items. In other words, players could either spend an exorbinate amount of their in-game currency to buy up items to donate, or they could just hand over their credit card and pay to win

people were Not Happy about this

not long after info spread and the outcry started (and a sizeable number of people cancelled their premium membership in protest), the FAQ was quietly updated to remove mention of donating neocash items. that took away to pay to win element at least

however, now there was a new problem. a tombola man problem.

i mentioned already that the highest rarity items are pretty rare and expensive. one of the least expensive of these is an item called the Squeezy Tombola Guy Toy. you can probably see where this is going already

because you can only buy a maximum of one tombola guy per day from the hidden tower, your only option if you want to buy more than that in a day is to go to user shops. however, in light of the event, people had already started buying and hoarding tombola guy toys. equally, others were buying them purely to sell at a profit. this made the perfect storm and caused the price of the tombola guy toy, which was normally 110k NP, to explode up to 500k, 600k, even 700k within just one day

BUT THEN THE FAQ GOT UPDATED AGAIN. surprise, you can now donate 30 items per day! also they just got rid of the highest rarity tier altogether. the maximum you can get for an item is now 8 points, for rarity r102-r179.

this has now made the squeezy tombola guy toys useless. unless you’re a collector they don’t serve any function beyond that of a normal neopets toy (of which there’s thousands of much cheaper options). the price has now plummeted down to BELOW what it originally was and many users now have piles and piles of the dolls sitting in their inventory, mocking them

so what now? well, because no one ever learns, everyone is now flocking to what is now the cheapest high-rarity item eligible for donation. most are going for omelettes, which have a few different options at r102+. these have also inflated by like 400% from before the event, but unlike the squeeze tombola guys, these are only worth a few thousand neopoints, so not as bad a potential loss in comparison

it’s worth noting that while all this is going on in preparation for the recycling event, neopets is also experiencing insane inflation in a lot of other items right now, including those required for people to complete faerie quests. for example, a Griefer, which cost 5000 np just last week, is now worth selling for 1 MILLION

So yeah. 3 days into the event and that’s where we are so far. who knows what tomorrow might bring

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 20: The New Normal

Summary: Your pack settles into a routine as you learn to adapt to the shifting relationships between all of you.

Pairings: Poly 141 x reader, Price x Gaz

Word Count:

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, p in v sex, unprotected sex, threesome, BDSM elements, dry humping, language, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, angst, PTSD, flashbacks, nightmares, smoking, Gaz being the prettiest boy alive.

A/N: Not much to say about this one. Hope it's worth a two week wait...

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

A yelp leaves your lips as your feet leave the ground, your body hitting the floor rather ungracefully. You roll from the force of the impact, stopping flat on your back. You stare up at the ceiling, trying to catch the breath that was forced from your lungs from your impact with the floor. 

“You left yourself too open again.” 

“Well how was I supposed to know which way you were moving?” You say, slowly pushing yourself back up to sit as you catch your breath. 

“You can’t, that’s why you have to keep yourself guarded at all times. Anyone you’re fighting will do worse than that as soon as your guard is down.” 

You stare at Simon’s shoes as he stops a foot away from you. The laces are pulled to the exact same tension on both sides, double knotted to avoid them coming undone and becoming a tripping hazard. Even the way his crew socks are pulled up over the legs of his sweatpants speaks volumes of how on guard he is. Always ready for a fight, always ready so that nothing can get in his way and put him at risk. 

He lets out a quiet sigh as he drops down into a squat in front of you. “How have you been sleeping?”

Your gaze finally leaves his shoes, trailing up his legs to his arms where they rest on his knees. You follow the lines of his tattoos until you reach where his shirt sleeve covers the rest. You work your way up until you reach his mask-covered face, finally meeting his brown eyes. There's a softness to them now you've never noticed before, something you might not have taken notice of now had you not become brave enough to look that deep. 

“Better,” You clear your throat, dropping your gaze to the mat. “But still not great.”

This morning had started with you shaking in Johnny's hold, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he whispered soft reassurances in your ear. The nightmares haven't gone away since your confession, nor have they even really lessened, but at least now you aren’t suffering alone when they wake you from your sleep. At least now your pack knows how to best comfort you when your mind insists on silently torturing you. 

You still haven’t slept alone since they returned, nor have you spent any great length of time in your room. There’s still a lingering feeling of someone watching, of something staring at you from inside the walls. You’ve checked while they were at training for any cameras you might have missed, but you’ve come up empty handed. Maybe it was just the knowledge that your safe space had been invaded causing that paranoid itching in the back of your mind to linger. None of the guys have complained about you staying with them at night, though perhaps you have your confession about your nightmares to thank for that.  

“The nightmares?” Ghost asks, snapping you from your thoughts. 

You nod. “Yeah.”

The risk of them finding out about your nightmares has made you less afraid to sleep, but still the fear of what horrible scene your mind will come up with keeps you awake. You pull your knees to your chest, making yourself small as you sit in front of him. He’s just so big, so broad and bulky, truly the ideal specimen of a perfect alpha. He’s the kind of alpha your fellow omegas at the institute would whisper about. Some big, strong protector who would provide for them and keep them safe and satisfied. 

If only they could see you now. 

Despite the shift in your relationship with Simon, things haven’t changed much. He’s still the quiet, looming figure behind you, posing a silent threat to anyone who might think about approaching you. He still places a hand on your back to steer you, still stands closer behind you than he used to, still looks at you with a softer look in his eyes than you’ve ever seen before. Sometimes you’re tempted to push that boundary first, to lean in and rest your head on his broad chest, feel the muscle under his shirt again. You want to press up against his back while he sleeps and let his warmth seep into your bones. Sometimes when you’re alone and your thoughts begin to run rampant, you think about how you have nothing to fear because Simon would rip the face off anyone who tried anything. 

Of course, he has to be here in order to do that. 

You won’t have to be alone again. John had promised you that much. He’d fight harder to make sure you’re not alone again. Not, at least, for a while if it can be avoided. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” Simon says, pulling you from your thoughts for a second time. 

You stare at him, suddenly realizing he’s moved closer to you. You’re not sure when he did, too caught up in your own thoughts to be aware of your surroundings. It’s dangerous, your ability to sink into your mind and get lost there. You know it and they know it. Yet you can’t help it. It’s safer in your head, easier to exist in a place where you’re in control, where you can predict what’s going to happen next. 

Simon’s hand wraps around your ankle, tugging you closer to him. You fall flat on your back on the mat, body sliding partially under his. He looms over you, settling his weight across your thighs as his hands come to rest on either side of your head. Your eyes are wide as you stare up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, as it usually does when you’re in this position.  

“Now, what do you do when someone pins you?” He asks, the sharpness back in his gaze as he stares down at you. 

Lay here and don’t move, or at least that’s what you want to do currently. He’s just so big and warm, and the way he makes you feel so small under him has your head spinning. How you wish he’d press his body into yours, let you feel him completely. The scents in the air begin to thicken as you find your head tilting back on instinct, baring your throat to him in submission. 

His hand closes around your chin, forcing your gaze back on his. “Focus.” He says, projecting his scent more to try and cover yours. It goes straight to your head, your gaze sharpening just slightly as you stare up at him. The scent of alpha around you has your mind racing in several different directions. You know you should be afraid, but it’s Simon. You know him, you trust him. He’d never hurt you intentionally, but he’s still an alpha. 

The strong musky scent has something in the back of your head prickling, your instincts teetering on the edge of safety and danger. You know the alpha over you, but what if it was someone else? That was the point of all of this, right? You won’t be fighting off Simon or John. It will be someone unfamiliar, someone who wants to hurt you. 

Simon’s fingers leave your chin, trailing down your neck. Your pulse thrums faster as his fingers near the base of your throat. The scent of alpha is strong in your nose. How easily he could slip his hand around the back of your neck and squeeze, rendering you brainless and under his control. 

Your mind goes blank and you move without even thinking. Your fist slams into his side right where he’d taught you to hit. He buckles at the sudden attack and you use his moment of surprise and disorientation to free one of your legs and drive your knee right into his stomach. You push him off of you, scrambling back a couple feet before your mind begins to clear. Simon lays on the mat, almost wheezing as he tries to get the air back into his lungs. 

You flounder there for a moment, watching the giant alpha you had just incapacitated. You don’t know where that came from or how you’d managed it. No, that’s not totally true. You know where the fear had come from, but you also know Simon would never do something like that to you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You say, shifting onto your knees in case Simon retaliates, in case he gets angry at you for attacking him. “I don’t know what just happened.”

“The hell are you apologizing for?” He coughs out, pushing himself onto his side. “That was bloody brilliant.” 

You blink in surprise, taken aback by his response. “What?” 

“That’s what you were supposed to do.” He says, pushing himself the rest of the way up onto his knees. “I asked what you should do if you’re pinned, and you did it.” 

You continue to stare at him, not quite sure how to process the sort-of praise from him. He had asked you what you should do if you were pinned, and you had done what you were supposed to do. It hadn’t quite been for the right reasons, but you did do something correctly. You managed to incapacitate him enough to get out from underneath him, and without him going easy on you. 

Maybe the training is working after all. 

“Do that in a fight, you might just give yourself enough time to run.” He says, pushing himself up to stand. “Good job.” 

You continue to stare at him as he passes you, heading to the bench where your belongings sit. You’re still kneeling there on the mat in surprise. You hadn’t expected such genuine praise from him. But why not? He’s doing this to train you, to teach you how to defend yourself against anyone who might want to hurt you. Anyone who’s stupid enough to try something when they’re not here to defend and protect you. 

Something that’s already happened. 

You’ve finally managed to defend yourself, to apply the things he’s spent weeks teaching you successfully. Why shouldn’t he be proud of you for that? 

You’re still getting used to this new side of him, this accepting side, the softness that he’s showing you in his own way. It’s what you wanted, what you’ve been trying to achieve for weeks now, and now that you have it...you’re not quite sure what to do with it. Where does the boundary lie? What if you push too far? Will things go back to the way they were before? Will he shut you out completely? 

Hands slip under your arms, lifting you to your feet. You turn, your head tilting back to stare up at Simon. He’s wearing that emotionless mask on his face, or at least that’s what you picture as you stare up at his eyes. It’s the look he carries the most, giving away nothing and effectively hiding what he’s feeling. You wish you could see his face. You’ve tried to draw up images of what he might look like, what he hides under the mask. He can’t be ugly, at least not totally. Johnny had reassured you of that much, but you wish for just a glimpse more than his chin and his lips when he eats. 

“You’re thinking too much again.” He says, taking half a step back from you. 

“Sorry.” You blink, trying to pull yourself from the depths of your mind once again. 

“Come on. Let’s get breakfast.” He says, tilting his head towards the door. 

You follow him from the gym, his steps markedly slower compared to how he used to walk. Gone are the days of almost having to run to keep up with him. You could almost swear he takes smaller steps too, instead of his normal long, purposeful strides. It’s almost as if he’s out for a stroll instead of being forced into the task of escorting you to breakfast. 

His hand finds your back again as you enter the mess, guiding you through the tables to the line to get food. His palm is warm where it’s pressed against the middle of your back, his fingers splayed, pressing just slightly into your skin through your shirt as an alpha soldier passes just slightly too close to you. 

He still won’t fill your tray for you, but you can respect that. It’s a big step, and only done if there’s interest in courting or caretaking. You don’t expect that level of intimacy from him, certainly not right now. Perhaps never. 

He’s not your alpha. 

He guides you to the table where the others are sitting, and you take your normal spot between John and Kyle. They both shift just slightly closer to you almost subconsciously. Everything is almost a subconscious action now. Simon’s guiding hand on your back, your alpha moving closer to you, the betas keeping you between them whenever you’re with them. It’s a good sign, or at least you think it is. It feels right, a sort of easy flow that has developed between the five of you. One you don’t have to think very hard about. 

“How did trainin’ go?” Johnny asks between shoveling bites of eggs into his mouth. 

“Fine.” You shrug. “Simon threw me across the mat.” 

All eyes at the table turn to him despite your nonchalant tone. It wasn’t the first time it’s ever happened, and you’re sure it won’t be the last. 

“She took me down herself afterwards.” Simon says, not bothering to look up from his porridge. 

Now all eyes at the table are on you. Your cheeks warm and you slowly start to make yourself smaller under their gazes. 

“Had her pinned and she disarmed me enough to get free.” Simon continues, his gaze lifting so he’s staring at you too. 

“Christ, what I would pay tae see that.” Johnny says, grinning widely at you. 

“So training is paying off then.” John says, patting your back gently. 

“Guess so.” You shrug, still feeling a bit bashful under the attention. “Not sure how useful I’d be in a real fight still.” 

“Well, your first defense is trying to escape. Running is always the priority, remember?” John says. 

You nod. Right. Run first. Like you should have opened the window and ran when that beta knocked on your door. Like you should have run when you noticed your door was open. Like you should have run when someone tried to get into your room. 

How disappointed they’d be if they knew how you failed to follow even the most basic instructions. What would have happened if you hadn’t noticed the cameras? Would whoever tried to get into your room that night still have tried to enter? What if the door had been unlocked? What if they had gotten in? What would you have done, then? Try to disarm them enough to run to Dr. Keller? 

That is what you were supposed to do. 

Instead you had been stupid and froze in your fear and let it all happen, and now you can’t even tell them. It’s too late, it’s been too long. They’d be too upset if you confessed now instead of if you’d done it right when they returned. 

You have to bury it now and hope it stays that way for the rest of time. 

John is the one that walks you back to the barracks after breakfast. You don’t remember the last time he walked you to a meal or back from it. Usually he was too busy doing his job, or setting up things, or whatever else it is he does. Walking you back to the barracks was far too menial a task for how busy he is. 

You hold his hand as you walk, close enough that his arm brushes your side with every step. You don’t let go of his hand even when he walks you to your door, keeping your fingers laced as you turn to look up at him. 

“You gonna be alright on your own?” He asks, staring down at you with a soft look in his eyes. 

No. You’re almost tempted to say it, to throw your arms around him and confess, to beg him to keep you close, to stay, to take you with him. Anything so you won’t have to be alone ever again. 

You swallow the lump in your throat as you nod. “Yeah.” 

For a moment, just a moment you think he doesn't believe you. There’s a second of hesitation, a cold chill running down your spine as your anxiety spikes. What if he knows you’re lying? What if he’s testing how long you’ll keep up the charade? How long you’ll try to keep them in the dark about what happened. He knows something is wrong. He can tell.

Your back meets your door as he crowds you in, releasing your hand so he can press both into the wood on either side of you. Something warm stirs in your stomach as you stare up at him, feeling very small as he looms over you. 

He lets out a low rumble in his chest as he leans down. For a moment you’re expecting a kiss, but he moves to the side at the last moment, nudging your chin so it’s tilted up, bearing your throat to him. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?” He murmurs against your neck, his beard prickling the sensitive skin. “Have we been neglecting you for too long?” 

Saying yes wouldn’t be a lie. They haven’t really sought you out in that way since their return. The most you’ve gotten in the last almost two weeks was when Johnny slipped his hand into your sleep shorts, and you returned the favor. John and Kyle hadn’t really even tried to initiate anything, treating you more like you’d shatter into a million pieces if they touched you too much. 

Maybe a good fuck would solve some of your issues. 

It would at least help you forget for a while. 

A quiet moan leaves your lips as John sucks on your mark, the imprint of his teeth scarred into your skin. The mark that claims you as his, bonded to him for the rest of your life. 

Lust and desire burns hot in your veins and you find yourself cupping his face, tugging him away from your neck so you can kiss him. He lets out a growl against your lips as you kiss him like you want to devour him, your hands sliding to his shoulders to tug him closer to you. His hands drop from the door to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him. You can feel him, his cock hardening through his cargo pants. 

You’d let him take you right here, right now, right in the hallway. You don’t care that anyone could walk in at any moment, anyone would be able to see you. It feels almost like it would cleanse the barracks, free you from the fear in your mind. Allowing yourself to be so vulnerable out in the open could wipe away the worry that there’s someone around every corner, someone watching you. 

Getting railed by your alpha against the very door that separated you from the room that now held your worst nightmares might just fix you. 

But, just like everything else that’s happened recently, you don’t get that chance. 

John’s watch begins to beep in your ear, causing him to pull away from you. You let out a quiet whine as you’re forced apart, suddenly feeling chilled from the loss of warmth against you. 

John lets out a quiet sigh, leaning his forehead against yours. “I have to go.” 

You wish he didn’t. You’re half tempted to beg him to stay, to fuck his job, his duties. You want him to stay, to give all his attention to you, just for a few hours. You want him to erase the fear and the anxiety and fix you. 

“We’ll continue this later.” There’s a promise to his tone that he’s not done with you, a guarantee that you will get to continue this once the day is over, when he can go back to being your alpha instead of a captain. He leans in, kissing you once more. “Be a good girl for me, yeah?” 

You nod, watching him walk out of the barracks, the door closing softly behind him. You lean against your door for a few moments longer before letting out a breath. There’s still warmth swirling in your stomach, your underwear sticking to your damp folds. An idea pops into your head. You don’t want to go into your room, you don’t want to be in there alone right now. 

Instead you head for Price’s room, unbuttoning your pants as you close the door behind you. You strip out of your pants before you climb onto the bed, making yourself comfortable. You’re going to give him a little present, a little something in revenge for leaving you high and dry, a little something to help him look forward to tonight.

Screaming. It’s all you can hear. It makes your ears ring and your head throb. Hands cling to you, nails biting into your skin. Something’s pulling on you, trying to rip you away. You’re stuck in a brutal tug of war. It hurts, but no one can hear you over the screaming. Tears are sliding down your cheeks, blazing a trail along your skin. You shouldn’t be crying, you shouldn’t be upset. 

He hates it when you cry. 

Alphas don’t cry. 

You’re not an alpha. 

You’ve committed the worst sin in his eyes, denying him the perfect pack. You’re a stain on his perfect ledger, a mistake that never should have happened. 

He’s going to make sure you’re wiped from memory, from history, just as he wants. 

“You can’t take her from me!” Your mother’s voice is frantic, her nails biting into your arm as she tries to pull you back into the safety of your arms. 

“She’s no daughter of mine.” Your father’s fingers dig painfully into your other arm, trying to pull you away from your mother, away from your life. He’s going to throw you out like you’re nothing more than trash. 

The screaming gets louder as you’re yanked from your mother’s hold, and you’re not sure if it’s her screams or your own piercing your ears. 

“We have to ensure the success of this program.” The voice has changed. It’s not the cruel hands of your father holding you anymore. “It’s imperative to the future of militaries around the world.” 

“No!” You scream, kicking, fighting, lashing out, but the hands won’t let go. They’re like a vice around you, like a constrictor slowly getting tighter and tighter. 

“All you have to do is be a good omega,” A hand slips around the back of your neck, your skin burning from the touch. The warning is screaming in your head, louder than the screams of protest spilling from your lips. “And do exactly as you’re told.” 

The fingers dig into your neck, your mind flashing for a second before it goes blank. 

“No!” 

You move before you’re even fully awake, sitting up straight in bed. Your hands close around the back of your neck as you curl into yourself, taking a defensive, protective position. You can still feel the cold hand on your skin, the fingers biting into the sensitive spots on your neck. You’re crying, tears and snot dripping down your face as you press it against your knees. 

“No!” Another terrified cry leaves your lips as hands meet your skin, not cold or clammy, but warm and gentle. Your half asleep brain is stuck in your nightmare and can't rationalize the difference, not while you're perceiving everything as a threat. 

“Easy, easy.” A voice says, speaking quietly, calmly. You recognize that voice. It’s not one from your dreams. Arms slowly wind around you, pulling you against a warm chest. “I’ve got you. It was just a dream.” 

Your breaths are rapid and shaky as you slowly begin to come back to your senses. It was just a dream. You’re awake now. You know that voice. 

“Alpha?” You whimper, desperately seeking the confirmation that it’s really him, that you’re really awake and free from your nightmare. 

“I’m here.” He says, clutching you tightly against his chest. “Need you to breathe for me.” He pushes your head against his chest so you can feel his breaths. 

You’re still crying, your breaths catching in your chest almost painfully as you attempt to follow your alpha’s deep, steady breaths. His arms are still tight around you, pinning you against his chest. His beard tickles your forehead as he leans his chin against your head. He’s projecting his scent, the smell of earth and petrichor mixed with the musk of alpha seeping into your brain. 

“Good girl.” He praises you as you begin to relax, your joins unlocking from their stiffened positions, your muscles slowly loosening from how contracted they had been in your defensive position. You could have slipped into distress easily in that position, the level of fear higher than you’ve felt in a long time. 

He loosens his hold on you just slightly as you begin to unravel yourself as you calm down. Your hands are still clamped around the back of your neck, your fingers trembling from how stiffly they’re held against your most vulnerable spot. 

“Keep relaxing.” He says quietly, his lips brushing your hairline. “I’ve got you.” 

He continues to speak to you quietly, letting you work yourself out of your tense, defensive position. You slowly begin to slide your hands away from your neck as your mind begins to clear and you realize there’s no threat to you, nothing waiting just outside your line of vision to attack. Your alpha has you, you’re safe with him, well protected. 

The tears continue to fall, however, as you think back on your nightmare. It had felt so real, maybe because in a way it had been real. You had been pulled from your mother, from your home to the institute, then from the institute to the CIA, from the CIA to here and straight into General Shepherd's lap. 

“Promise me,” You gasp out, your voice hoarse from crying. “Tell me you’ll never scruff me.” 

“Never.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promise I’ll never scruff you.” 

You press your face into his chest, breathing out a quiet sigh of relief. He could always go back on his word, he could change his mind, decide you needed to be scruffed. You know it’s foolish, having those kinds of thoughts. He’s never once gone back on his word, never once proved himself untrustworthy to you. 

“I need to know if you've ever been scruffed before.” He asks, the authority slipping into his voice. 

A frown pulls at your brows. You can’t remember if you’ve ever been scruffed before. Was it possible you had, but had been made to forget? Everything you’ve learned about scruffing says you would know, even if you don’t remember what happened after. It’s a very distinct feeling returning to your mind afterwards. It’s just something you’d know.

“No? I-I don’t think so?” You say. “At least I can’t remember, but I think it’s one of those things that you would know if it happened.” 

“I’ve seen it happen, and I’ve seen the aftermath. You would know if it had ever happened to you.” 

His words bring a shred of relief to your worried mind. You don’t want to know, you don’t want to ask how he knows, why he knows. It’s not likely he would have been able to tell you anyway. Just another secret, just another thing kept in the dark. You knew from early on  they’d have their secrets, things they wouldn’t ever be able to tell you. You just never expected to have one of your own. 

You curl up closer against his chest, pushing the thoughts and the guilt hanging over your head away in favor of soaking up the calming presence of your alpha. For a moment, just a moment, you can imagine everything will be alright. What’s in the past will stay there and nothing will come back to haunt you. You can just move on, and pretend like nothing happened. 

You know it’s not true, but for just a moment, you can pretend that it is. 

He hates it. 

He hates the way he feels. 

The subtle change to his heart rate, the way his insides feel like they’re fluttering, twisting. The disappointment eating him when his existence is ignored entirely in favor of those who were brave enough to open up, to allow you in. 

Why is he disappointed? He’s done nothing but brush you off, keep you desperately at arms length despite your attempts to wiggle in through the slowly widening cracks in his resolve. Cracks that were formed by your very insertion into their lives. They were happy, they were fine. Then you came along and fucked everything up. 

The worst part? 

He likes it. 

He wanted to hate you. For so long he fought that desire in him to be near an omega again, to be close enough to smell your sickeningly sweet scent. He tried to hate you, tried to ignore you, push you away from the walls he’s spent decades building up. Walls that threatened to crumble thanks to your very existence. 

He’s not sure when the change happened. It was gradual, a shift in his hatred that became fascination that quickly morphed into something more. Something forbidden. Maybe it was when you submitted to him during training, or maybe it was after your first time with Johnny when his beta had looked far too pleased, and shared the intimate details of what you had done to him far too easily. Johnny’s need to yap had won out and his beta’s words had caused a stirring in his stomach he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

A stirring he’d been able to ignore for so long. 

For a moment, just a moment there had been fleeting curiosity. Would you try to take control with him? What if he let you do it? How long could you keep it up before you tired out and your true nature took over? 

He stuffed those thoughts into the far recesses of his mind, refusing to allow them forward. He’s not getting soft, he’s not going to allow you any closer to his already cracking walls. 

He tells himself that, at least until they leave. Until he sees the effect you have on his pack. The ripples in the bonds, the changes that happen almost as soon as the ramp of the plane shuts, separating you from them for the first time since your arrival. 

He’s a good soldier. He can pretend nothing’s wrong, force the feelings into the back of his mind better than anyone. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

It had hurt when you ignored him on your return, throwing yourself into Price’s arms desperately and clinging to him like he might disappear. The betas had sandwiched you between them, letting you cling to them desperately as you trembled and cried. It was pathetic, but not quite as pathetic as the bitterness and the sting of disappointment in his chest. 

He tried not to let himself feel it, tried to bury himself in his paperwork, tried to keep the feelings at bay, at least until Johnny had knocked on his door, mattress in tow telling him to get a blanket and head for Price’s room. 

It was Kyle’s idea. Had to be. Kyle is the most nurturing of the four of them, and judging by the state of you, he must have done it because he thought it would help. 

By the time he grew the balls to enter the makeshift nest, the betas had already sandwiched you between them, your form almost smothered completely under Johnny. Price had laid himself out on Kyle’s other side, and the space for him was made up of mostly Johnny’s mattress. It had to have been a deliberate move, meant for his own comfort. Sweet Johnny and his beta senses. He probably didn’t even realize what he’d done. It had just happened naturally. 

It’s at Johnny’s pestering insistence that he climbs into the nest finally, laying stiffly on the mattress behind his beta. It’s been a long time since he’s been in a nest. He doesn't sleep, not much anyway, but neither does Price. Both of them are too awake, too aware, too alert. The betas sleep peacefully and so do you, probably the most sleep you’ve gotten since your heat. 

The warmth in the room gets unbearable fast, the blankets quickly kicked to the end of the mattresses, along with his own sweatshirt. It’s like a sauna, and for a moment he considers opening the window, but he’s too afraid to move, too afraid to disturb the nest. 

It’s when Johnny gets up to go to the bathroom that you finally move, the first time in hours. You roll into the space he had vacated, lips slightly parted as you breathe in and out easily. Johnny, the bastard, takes your empty spot, trapping you between them. He turns his back to you in hopes you stay as still as you had before, which works for a while. At least, until he feels something press up against his back. He goes still, every muscle tensing as you bury your face between his shoulder blades. He should turn over, push you away. He should nudge you back towards Johnny, let you seek out his warmth instead. Yet, he can’t bring himself to move.

He shouldn’t like it. He can’t. He can’t allow you in, he can’t let you past his rapidly crumbling walls. Yet, he does like it. He wants to feel you pressed against him, he wants to see that hidden part of you that had brought his beta to his knees so easily. 

He’s supposed to be keeping his distance, and yet, here you are, forcing your way in again. It almost feels like a silent apology for yesterday, your subconscious picking up on his disappointment, and so now it’s offering him this moment in hopes he’ll forgive you. 

It’s working. 

A quiet breath leaves your lips as you listen to the steady beating beneath your ear. The scent of coconut and saltwater floats in the air, taking your mind far away, back to a different time when things were simpler. Kyle’s calloused fingers trail across your arm, drawing absentminded patterns across your skin. You press your face against his warm skin, your hand splaying across his stomach. You can feel the ridges of his muscles, the way they flex with every breath. 

“What’s on your mind?” He asks, his lips brushing your forehead as he speaks. 

“Just thinking about when we used to go to the beach when I was younger. Back when my dad was stationed in North Carolina for a few months.” 

“You like the beach?” He asks. 

You nod. “Yeah. There’s just something calming about it. I don’t mind the sand and I like the sound of the waves hitting the shore.” 

“We could go to the beach.” He says, making you tilt your head up just slightly. “When the weather’s nicer, closer to summer. Take a few days off, go on a vacation.” 

“You could do that?” You ask, pushing yourself up on your elbow so you can see him fully. 

He smiles at you, his hand dropping to your back. “We do get to go on leave every so often, barring nothing urgent happens while we’re away. I’ll talk to Price about it. We can start making some plans, if you want.” 

You stare down at him, the softness in his gaze, the slight upward tilt of his lips. He might as well have just promised you the world with how he’s looking at you. Tears burn at the back of your eyes as you stare at him. You don’t deserve it, you don’t deserve such kindness, such care after lying to them. You can trust Kyle. He’d be the least angry, at least towards you, if you confessed right now. It would be so easy, but you’re not sure you could stand watching the love and happiness fade from his eyes as you confessed to your stupidity, your deception. 

“What is it?” He asks, his brows furrowing. Of course he’d pick up on the shift of your emotions, the sudden anxiety twisting in your stomach. “We don’t have to go to the beach. We could do something else, or nothing at all.” 

“It’s not that.” You say, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I just...I don’t deserve you. All of you. You’re too good to me.” 

“Oh, love, that’s not true.” He says, gently cupping your cheek. “I think it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re too good for us. The things we’ve seen, the things we’ve done. We’re not good people, and yet we were blessed with an absolute angel.”

Tears gather in your eyes for a different reason now. You certainly don’t feel like an angel. You’re too broken and you’ve lied and made stupid mistakes. “I’m hardly an angel.” 

“Well, in comparison to us, you are.” He gently presses against your back, drawing you closer to his face. “Our angel, our sweet little omega.” 

A shiver runs down your spine from the way your status sounds from his lips. His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you down so your forehead is pressed against his. You can feel his breath on your lips, your tongue darting out to wet your own in anticipation. 

He tastes like mint toothpaste, his tongue immediately pushing past the seam of your lips. His kiss steals your breath away, his hand tangling in your hair to keep you in place as he licks into your mouth. Your hand settles on his chest for balance, feeling his heart racing under your palm. 

You shift over him, throwing a leg across his hips as you settle against his chest. His hand releases your hair, tracing a line down your spine to your hips. The shirt of his you had changed into before crawling into bed with him has ridden up, revealing the lacy panties you're sporting underneath. He groans against your lips as his fingers trace over the lace before slipping underneath, tugging them lightly. 

You pull away from his lips, staring down at him. “I’m gonna need more pairs of these at this rate.” 

“We’ll have to take a trip and pick up more.” He grins, snapping the waistband against your skin. 

You bite your lip, pressing yourself up so you’re sitting over his hips. You can feel the growing bulge beneath his shorts as you begin to grind against him. He’s gone commando, your clit catching on his head through the thin fabric. Your hands press into his stomach, feeling the muscles contract as your scent thickens in the air. His hands close around your hips, guiding you as you grind against him. His eyes are hooded as he stares up at you, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

You stare down into those big brown eyes, getting lost in the depth of them. If you could melt yourself into him, seep under his skin and become one with him, you would. He might be the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on. He might as well be sculpted from marble, or pulled right from a piece of artwork. 

You shift so you’re leaning forward, your clit dragging against his stomach as you continue moving your hips. You grasp his chin, fingers digging into his cheeks. “You’re so fucking pretty, it’s not fair.” 

He chuckles, giving you a dazzling, perfect smile. “Thank you, love.” He wraps his arms around you, pushing himself up to sit so you drop into his lap. “But I’m nothing compared to you right now.” 

He keeps you grinding against his lap, his hands squeezing your ass as you soak the front of his shorts with every drag of your hips. Your head falls back as you moan, the friction against your clit quickly pushing you towards an orgasm. 

“Haven’t even touched you yet and got you all worked up. You could cum just like this, couldn’t you?” He nips playfully at your lips, sliding his hand down further to press against your lace covered pussy. 

You let out a whine, releasing your hold around his shoulders long enough to tug off your shirt. He curses quietly as your skin is revealed to him, his hands trailing up your back. 

“Fucking hell, love.” He groans, pushing his hips up into you. 

“Kyle,” You moan his name, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Need you.” 

He curses again, wrapping his arms around your waist for leverage as he flips you over onto your back. He sits up on his knees, trailing his hands down your sides until he reaches the waistband of your panties, trailing his fingers across the lace for a moment. 

“You alright?” He asks, checking in with you. 

You nod, lifting your feet so they press against his chest. “You gonna take them off already?” 

He grins, sliding his fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs before tossing them to the floor. He parts your thighs to give himself room as he pulls off his own shorts, his cock springing free from the confining fabric. Your mouth waters as you stare at it, your teeth sinking into your lip in anticipation. 

“Fuck,” He breathes as he pushes your thighs further apart, dark eyes glued to your glistening folds. 

He slides his hands down your thighs, his thumb ghosting over your clit. Your hips jerk in response, pushing up against his hand. He chuckles, repeating the motion, watching the way your lips part in a moan. 

“Always so sensitive.” He smirks, pressing his thumb into the bundle of nerves. “Even after Price fucked you senseless a couple nights ago.” 

Your face warms at his words, your stomach fluttering excitedly. Of course they had heard you. You’ve long given up on trying to hide what goes on behind their closed doors. They all know, they already knew from the first night you spent with John. 

He had been rather rough that night, fucking you into the mattress so hard the headboard had scraped some of the prison grey paint off the walls. You had asked for it, though, both of you needing the raw, carnal release it had given you. 

“Yeah, we all heard that.” Kyle continues, slowly circling your clit with his thumb as he speaks. “Sounded like a couple of animals in there. If you hadn’t been screaming his name over and over, we might have been worried he’d mauled you to death. Simon and I had to keep Johnny occupied so he wasn’t tempted to join you.” 

Your pussy flutters at the thought of the three of them together, riled up by you and John. You can almost picture it, Johnny in Simon’s lap, bouncing on his cock while Kyle sucks him off from the front. Or did Johnny submit to both and suck Kyle’s cock while Simon took him from behind? Or was Simon more of a giver and sucked him off while Kyle fucked him? Or did Simon take both of them after making them both suck his cock? 

The endless stream of thoughts has your pussy clenching, slick dribbling out of you as your legs start to shake. It’s almost too much with the pressure against your clit, your body heating from the fire ignited in your veins. 

“Liked that, didn’t you?” Kyle smirks, removing his hand from your clit to lean down over you. “Maybe next time we’ll squeeze you in right in the middle. Would you like that?” 

You nearly cum from his words alone, your hands grasping at his shoulders. “Fuck, Kyle! I need you inside me right now.” 

“So impatient.” He tsks, leaning forward to bite at your lips. “Such a needy little omega.” 

“Please!” You almost sob, lifting your hips to press against his. “I need you.” 

He shushes you, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before sitting back up onto his knees. He shifts slightly closer to you, propping your legs up over his thighs. His hand fists his cock, pumping the hard length a couple times before he drags the head through your folds. You whine impatiently, trying to lift your hips to grind against him but he presses a hand into your stomach, pinning you against the bed. 

“Patience.” He scolds you, sending a shiver down your spine. 

He drags his head through your folds a couple more times before he finally presses into you, stretching you open. You go lax on the bed, relaxing around him as he rocks his hips into you, sinking in deeper with every movement. 

You reach for him as he sinks completely into you, pulling him down so he’s hovering over you. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you softly as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him as close as you can. His arms slip around your back as he begins grinding against you, his thrusts shallow and soft. It’s so very different from how John had taken you just a couple days ago. Kyle has always been softer, gentler, more passionate than rough and eager. 

You moan softly against his lips, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him locked against you. You want to get closer to him, but you’re not sure you can get closer than you already are. Bodies pressed together, his cock inside you, lips pressed to yours as he holds you. There’s a prickling under your skin, an urge to devour him, to keep him here forever. He snaps his hips into you harder, his lips trailing down to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin. You tilt your head to the side, your eyes widening as a gasp leaves your lips. Your fingers dig into Kyle’s side, his head snapping to the side, sensing the disturbance in the room. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” John leans against the closed door, a cigar in his hand. 

You’re not sure how long he’s been there, how he got in without either of you noticing. Kyle especially, since he was usually so in tune with his surroundings. Pride flashes through you at the thought of him being so lost in you, he can’t focus on anything else. The scent of tobacco washes over you as John takes a long drag from his cigar. He must not have been there long, or maybe you’ve just been so caught up in Kyle’s scent you hadn’t noticed. 

Kyle is frozen above you as John pushes off the door, approaching the bed slowly. Kyle shifts above you so he can hold John’s gaze as he stops at the edge of the bed. Excitement swirls in your stomach as you stare up at him in anticipation of what he’s going to do. His hand lifts, dragging down Kyle’s back to his ass. 

John delivers a harsh slap to his cheek, Kyle’s hips snapping into yours in response as a moan leaves his lips. “Did I tell you to stop, soldier?” 

“No, sir.” Kyle grunts out, starting to rock his hips into yours again. 

You watch the change happen almost immediately, the natural shift between them. Kyle’s not in charge anymore, quickly handing over control to John despite the fact he’s the one inside of you. It’s a subtle submission, yet you can sense the changes in them both. 

John massages Kyle’s ass for a moment before shifting so he’s closer to you. You stare up at him, lips parted as you whimper quietly. “There’s my pretty girl.” He praises you as he leans down, brushing his thumb over your lips before pushing it into your mouth. You close your lips around his thumb, sucking on it. “Such a good girl, isn’t she?” 

“Yes, sir.” Kyle grunts, continuing to thrust into you harder than he had been before. 

John takes another drag from his cigar as you moan around his thumb, your hands gripping the sheets as Kyle continues to thrust into you, the head of his cock dragging across that spot inside you from the angle he’s at. Moans slip from Kyle’s lips as you clench around him, his own hands digging into the sheets. Sweat has beaded across his forehead, a droplet sliding down his cheek to his neck, leaving a trail as it slowly drips down his chest. Drool slips out of your mouth around John’s thumb. You want to lick the sweat from his chest. You want to taste him. 

John slips his thumb from your lips, dragging it across your chin, smearing saliva all over your skin. “Look at her.” He says, moving so he’s looking over Kyle’s shoulder. “Drooling already and you haven’t even made her cum yet, have you?” His hand slips around the back of Kyle’s neck, his fingers digging into the sensitive skin. “You gonna make her cum like a good boy?” 

Kyle lets out a moan, his pace stuttering just slightly. “Yes, sir.” He grits out, picking up the pace as he slams into that spot inside you with every movement. 

John takes a step back, continuing to smoke as he watches the two of you. It’s almost too much between Kyle fucking you and John watching. There’s a coil tightening in your stomach, the pleasure intensifying more and more. A fire has started under your skin, your eyes glued to John’s as Kyle pushes you closer and closer to the peak. 

You hold John’s gaze as you cum, your back arching in pleasure. Kyle doesn’t stop, continuing to thrust into you as he chases his own high. 

John waits until your moans have died down before he moves, stubbing out his cigar on Kyle’s nightstand before he grasps Kyle by the hips, stopping his movements. “Switch places with our girl.” He murmurs into Kyle’s ear, Kyle taking a second to breathe before he wraps his arms around you, flipping you back around so you’re on top again as John kicks off his shoes. 

Your hands press into Kyle’s stomach to hold yourself steady, your legs still shaking from your orgasm. John climbs on the bed behind you, his clothed chest pressing against your bare, sweat slicked back. 

“Gonna be a good girl and make him cum?” John says quietly, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

A shiver runs down your spine as you nod, starting to rock your hips just slightly. John’s hands settle on your waist, helping you move as you begin to bounce on Kyle’s cock. Kyle’s eyes are wide as he watches you and his alpha, John pressing kisses across your shoulders and neck as he helps you fuck his beta. Kyle’s hands grip your thighs, fingers indenting the skin as he holds on for dear life. 

“That’s it.” John praises you, shifting your body forward just slightly so Kyle’s cock drags across that spot inside you with your every movement. You clench around him, your thighs tightening around his hips. 

“Fuck...” Kyle moans, his own hips bucking up into yours. 

“Gonna make him cum?” John asks, his hands abandoning your hips. One snakes around your stomach to rub your clit while the other slips behind you to squeeze Kyle's balls. 

Kyle lets out a loud moan, his hips snapping up against yours as your walls clamp tightly around him. You can feel the warm ropes of his release spurting inside you, increasing the pressure as you cum a second time on his cock. 

John works you both through your orgasms, your entire body shaking by the time he releases you, pushing you forward against Kyle's chest. You lay there, your cheek pressed against his sweaty skin, ass in the air right in John's face. He watches as Kyle's seed begins to seep out of you, forced out by the aftershocks of your orgasm. He drags his fingers through your folds, gathering Kyle's cum before pushing it back into you. You moan softly from the stretch of his fingers against your sensitive walls, pushing your hips back against his hand.

“Don't want to waste any of that.” John says, nipping at the globe of your ass cheek. “You know Kyle likes to clean you up himself.”

You let out a quiet moan, your pussy fluttering around John’s fingers. You’re about to be in for a very long night. 

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[reidmotif]

Dialing up for Trouble

Summary: Reader and Spencer were fuck-buddies, until Spencer cuts her off quite suddenly. A party and some risque images may be enough to get them back to their old routine.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: semi-public sex, sexting, mentions of nude images and descriptions of generic lingerie, masturbation (f!receiving), penetrative sex, semi-dom!spencer

Word Count: 3.5 k

Masterlist

Clichés bothered me. There was no other way to put it. I’d grown up hating the likes of love triangles, meet-cutes, chosen ones, and right now, I was being reminded more than ever of that hatred because, what the fuck? 

“Too much of a good thing” was the reasoning Spencer had cited when he proposed we stop sleeping together casually, and return to our previous relationship of  “just coworkers”. I’d let him know how ridiculous I found his sentiment, and attempted every possible method to continue our secret rendezvous, but he was absolutely dead-set on his decision, it seemed.

 No more sex. No more late-night calls. None of it. It was all over. All because of a cliche. 

We seemed to agree on one thing, and that was, yes. The sex was fantastic. It really was that good. While I’d never wish weariness on Spencer Reid, I couldn’t deny that in the aftermath of stress and frustration from whatever life had chosen for him, the way he’d deal with that was absolutely electrifying for me.

I’d find myself constantly breathless, pulled into hotel rooms, storage closets- anything resembling the barest hint of privacy, and allow him to use me as he saw fit. I gave him complete trust and control over my body, and in turn, he rewarded me with some incredibly life-changing orgasms. And for what it’s worth, he seemed to get an equal amount of satisfaction out of our hidden trysts, which only made his recent decision that more devastating.  

It’d been roughly a month since we’d had sex, or anything resembling the sort, and I found myself absolutely deprived. When the FBI gave out invitations to its semi-annual gala, I imagined the festivities would be enough to distract me, but I was completely in error for assuming so. Amidst drinks and conversations, there was the occasional lull where I couldn’t help but absentmindedly imagine the feel of his hands over my skin, squeezing the fat of my hips. His lips trailing up and down my neck, focusing on spots only he knew about. The way his hair would tickle against my thighs when he’d bury his head-

“Hey.” 

The voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I have to remind myself not to choke on my beverage. There he was. The current subject of my thoughts, standing in front of me, live and in the flesh. Spencer Reid. 

“Hey.” I mirror back, taking a sip of my drink, acting as lax as I could, given the circumstances. “Enjoying yourself?” I ask, gesturing to the party in front of us, the general ambience. 

“You know me.” He replies, pausing for a second, keeping his gaze trained on mine. “Not my scene but.. doable.” 

I chuckle for a moment, understanding perfectly. Spencer wasn’t exactly the most social guy out there. I was honestly surprised he’d chosen to come to this thing at all in the first place. 

“You look nice.” He says, suddenly. “Your dress. It’s nice.” He rushes out the words, as if he’s scared to say them in the first place. 

I smooth down the fabric instinctively, nodding. I try not to let the compliment affect me so much, keeping my head down for a split second to hide the creeping heat emanating from my cheeks. 

 “Thank you. I appreciate it.” 

I surprise myself with my own answer. The silence for that tick is horrible. I appreciate it? Jesus. I couldn’t think of the right words anymore. The correct and witty response that would allow this conversation to flow smoothly. 

 I truly wanted to fuck this man so bad, it made me look stupid. 

And stupid I was, because yet again, I attempted to test the current parameters of our relationship he’d put us on. I swallow my pride, lifting my head to meet his eyes with mine. 

“If you like it so much, you could- you know. Take it off.” I say, biting my lip. There’s a light tease in my voice, but it’s obvious I’m being as forthcoming as I possibly could. No games. No jokes. I didn’t want to dance around it, and I hoped my boldness would reward me as it did previously in the past. 

But no, it seems that fortune does not favor the bold, because Spencer’s immediate response was to shake his head, lowering his voice. He pulled on my arm to decrease our proximity, to the point where it was ensured no passer-bys could possibly hear our conversation. 

“Come on.” He pleads, almost looking desperate.  “I told you we should stop- hasn’t that worked out? We can be coworkers. This works.”

I roll my eyes, letting my displeasure show plainly over my face. “This works?” I say, and the sarcasm is clear in my voice. “Sex worked too, you know.” 

“I know it did!” He says, in a hushed whisper. “But- we can’t. No. It’s not right. Too much of a-” 

“If you finish that sentence, I swear to god.” I say, my expression turning much more volatile. I forcibly shrug his arm off me. “This is stupid.” I continue, trying not to let my voice rise. “I see the way you look at me. I know it was good for both of us. I know you’re thinking about it just as much as I am, so why not!” There’s a hint of hurt in my voice as well. Underneath all the sex, I’d grown to miss the interactions after. The giggles under covers and the feel of his hair in my fingers. I missed him. All of him. 

There’s a miserable pause on his end, and I hold my breath waiting for his next words. Spencer sputters, looking absolutely defeated. “Because- because we just can’t, okay?” He replies, helplessly, stepping back from me, as I’d done with him. “Look. I’m just going to enjoy the rest of the party, okay? Take care of yourself, yeah?” 

Before I can get in another word, demanding a real explanation from the man, he leaves me alone, replaying the words of his confusing outburst in my mind. 

I take a short time to myself, electing to go use the restroom and take a breather from the party, a bit on edge after our exchange. Was it possible he was completely fine with what the loss of our arrangement had done to us? Was I the only one absolutely losing my mind? Any attempt to diverge my attention from the topic proved futile, and  I remained in the closed room, mindlessly adjusting myself in the mirror with no real rhyme or reason. There’s an eventual use of my phone, focusing the camera directly on my face to make sure nothing had smudged or looked off on my face in the time I’d last checked my makeup. In the use of the device, I remembered the pictures I’d taken before coming here. 

The pictures weren’t meant to serve any true purpose. I’d bought new lingerie for this dress, as my previous bras weren’t suited to the cut and shape of the specific piece of clothing, and decided to take a few pictures for myself. It was lacy, and pretty, but nothing truly special. The bra had a slight push-up effect, and the panties were a bit cheekier than my normal, day-to-day undergarments.  The actual lingerie was innocent- harmless, even. Looking at the images right now, though, a salacious idea creeped into my head. 

Under the right circumstances, these could be exactly the catalyst to finally receiving what I wanted. 

I open the messaging app on my phone, finding Spencer’s contact, and beginning to type out a simple message. 

hey. 

The response is immediate. 

What’s up? 

You good? 

Where’d you go? 

I laugh a little. I imagined him scanning the crowd for me, trying to figure out where I’d gone off to. 

all good, don’t worry

so we’re still sticking to the no sex thing? 

I see his typing bubble pop up, then pause. Then starts up again. 

Yes. 

Trust me, it’s for the better. 

I groan internally. Of course he thinks that. Always thinks he knows what’s good for everyone. 

trust me 

if you knew what i had planned for us

you wouldn’t say that

I feel my phone vibrate in my hand, indicating he was now calling me? I hadn’t planned for this. 

“Spencer?” I remark, waiting for his voice on the line. 

“What do you mean?” He says, quickly. I can no longer hear the bustle of the party in the background, so it’s only reasonable to assume he’s moved somewhere quieter. Still, I ask. 

“Are you around other people?” I murmur, keeping my voice low. 

“No. Alone. What did you mean by your last message?” He repeats, quickly. 

There’s my in. I respond, feigning an unmistakable innocence in my voice. “Mind if I show you?” 

“Show me?” The confusion in his voice is palpable. 

“Show you.” I reply, more definitively.  “Check your messages.” 

I bring my phone away from my ear, electing to send the first picture I saw in my camera roll,  which prominently featured my breasts- a feature of mine I knew Spencer was quite interested in. I return to the call, my heart pounding wildly. 

“Did you see?” I ask, hesitantly, when all I can hear is his breathing on the other line. 

The response is a choked out, breathy mess of a sentence. “Yeah- I did. Jesus.” 

“Want more?” I murmur, biting my lip as the realization dawned on me that this possibly had a chance of working. 

There’s a delay in his words on the line, before I finally hear:

“Yes. God, yes.” 

I grin ear-to-ear, beginning to send an assortment of pictures I’d taken previously in the day. Knowing this was having an effect on him, that somewhere in this party Spencer was sitting alone, his gaze trained on his phone intently, did something to me. He was behaving this way because of my body, because of what I could do to him. 

It was hard not to get wet at the thought. 

“You look so good.” He breathes out, and the desire in his voice is unmistakable. 

“Yeah?” I mumble to the speaker. “You think so?” 

“Mhm.” He murmurs. “You’re wearing this right now?” He asks, seemingly needing that confirmation at this moment.  

“In all its glory.” I try not to giggle before murmuring teasingly, “What, you wanna see?” 

“Where are you?” He asks, suddenly seeming very determined. I can hear the shuffling on the other line, indicating he was now starting to move from where he was currently situated. He was completely, and utterly serious about this. 

“Bathroom, on the left corridor of the entrance.” I say, feeling exhilarated at the thought of him meeting me here. This was happening. 

Finally. 

“Stay.” He replies, and the call cuts. 

There’s an impatient itch that creeps up on me during the two-minute wait for him, before I hear a solid knock on the door, and my name being whispered through the door, belonging to a voice I’d grown so accustomed to and fond of. 

My fingers undo the lock, opening it just enough so that he could squeeze through without drawing too much attention to ourselves right now. 

And as soon as he’s managed in, he’s practically on me, devouring me with a kiss with a passion I’d never felt from him before. My hands go to wrap around his neck, pressing our bodies flush against each other, every ragged breath of his shooting directly to my core, which was now throbbing with need. 

“Fuck. Missed this so much.” He breathes out, gasping for air in between our kisses. I couldn’t so much as get a whimper out, before he’d dive right in again. It’s like he wanted to eat me alive. 

And I’d let him. 

I moan softly into his mouth, starved for more contact between us. It’s as if he can read my mind, because in an instant,  he guides us from the center of the bathroom, towards a wall, slotting his thigh between my legs. He takes a momentary break from ravishing me with his lips, now adopting a slower, more sensual pace as he works down my neck, each soft kiss leaving me craving him even more.  

His hands drift down to my hips, keeping me pinned against the wall as he murmured soft praises. My legs felt wobbly, absolutely taken aback by how quickly I could go weak for this man. 

“You like this, mm?” He mumbles, letting his teeth nip over the lobe of my ear, before switching to a more neglected side of my neck. “Like me that much, mm?” 

I don’t care about the cockiness in his tone. I don’t care how smug I render him. I just need him to continue this, for as long as I can have him. 

“Yes.” I breathe out, my voice higher-pitched than it normally would be. “God. Love this so much.” 

There’s a flash of hesitance from him, as he pulls his face away from my neck, staring at my eyes with his own. I can’t dwell on the pause, because for once, I’m finally seeing him. His hair was absolutely ruined, sticking up wildly in different directions. His cheeks were a light pink, serving to make his features even prettier and doe-like than before. But what got me were his eyes. His pupils were blown out, the normal honey-hazel I’d seen on a daily basis replaced with an absolute abyss of black. The darkness served to cause a surge within me, practically launching forward to meet his lips with mine. 

There are no words required for what happens next, as I feel his hand creep up my back, pulling me away from the wall and towards the closest surface, which happened to be the sink. He guides me to bend over, and I do so with no resistance.

 He could have me, whichever way he wanted, whenever he wanted. All I needed was his touch. 

I can feel him crouch to his knees, slowly reaching under my dress to hook his fingers around my panties, slowly pulling them down. I can feel a string of my arousal clinging to the fabric, and it seems Spencer can too, because he practically moans as he drags the soiled piece of lingerie down my thighs. I step out of them quickly, and turn my head back, fast enough to see him stuff the proof of our debauchery down his suit pocket. 

“Eyes ahead.” He whispers, leaning down close to my ear to nip at the sensitive flesh again. 

“Okay.” I murmur, slipping into a more submissive version of myself that he seemed to bring out in me. There’s a sense of relaxation and excitement all at the same time, and I’m absolutely wracked with lust for him. 

His fingers stroke my clit for a moment, applying pressure in just the right way. The movements are practiced, precise and guaranteed to hurl me off the edge if he continues this way. 

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He murmurs, almost amazed,  letting his fingers slip away. “All this for me?” 

I can barely respond, whimpering and nodding. “Yes. Please- Spencer.” I beg, needily. 

“I know, I know.” He replies, and I can hear how pleased he is. There’s a certain delight he derives from my submission, and while in any other circumstance, the smugness he displays would turn me off, right now it only served to further my hunger. 

I can feel him start to work on his belt, sliding the coarse material of his dress pants just enough, so that his cock could spring free. I can’t see it, but I can feel it, his tip sliding through my folds, and I clench at the thought of him finally being inside of me. 

Just when I believed his teasing to be done, there’s a knock at the door, and we both freeze. Spencer swallows, and quickly raises his voice. “Occupied!” 

There’s silence, and that previous sense of lust and content drifts back into our bodies, Spencer’s fingers trace up to my face, and he lets his finger slip into my mouth. I can taste my arousal on his fingers, and there’s a genuine struggle on my end to stay upright. How could I, when the man behind me rendered me so indisposed? 

He draws his fingers out of my mouth. “Good girl.” He whispers.

It seems the universe has other plans though, because yet again- a knock sounds at the door. I can hear Spencer’s groan, and watch through the mirror as he attempts to come up with a response that would give us the seclusion we required. 

My patience however, had worn thin. His cock was right there, and I’d be damned if I was forced to wait any longer. I turn my head towards the door, complacency and submission gone from my voice. 

“Do you mind? I’m trying to fuck him in here!” I say, snarking out the words. 

There’s a silence, and a murmur of mortification on the other side of the door. Footsteps. And then at last, silence. 

Spencer quickly leans down to kiss my cheek, mumbling out an “I love you.” 

Before I can even comprehend the words, he’s guiding himself into me, sliding his cock through my walls, and I have to bite my lip to keep a scream in. He feels so fucking good inside of me, stretching me out in ways no man ever could. I can feel the underside of his cock hitting that spongy spot deep inside of me, and my breathing turns rapid in mere seconds. 

“There we go, relax for me baby, yeah?” He mumbles. “Nice and slow.” 

I moan out my affirmative, gripping onto the sink as I let my jaw drop, eyes squeezing in absolute ecstasy. “So good for me.” He murmurs. “So warm and wet, Jesus.” 

And with that, he starts a pace that works for both of us. It’s hard and fast, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. The feel of his cock gliding through my puffy walls is intoxicating, and I can only wonder how I went so long without feeling it. 

It seems Spencer’s having similar  thoughts, because through my moans and his occasional groans, I can feel his grip on my hips get more bruising by the second, marking me as his own. I can hear occasional fragments of words through his noises. 

“Never letting you go. Oh fuck. Fuck.” He mumbles, and despite the overwhelming amount of arousal shooting through me, my heart swells. 

“Me too.” I whimper out, gripping the sink even harder. I can feel my wetness seeping all around us, splashing against my thighs with every movement he drives into me. “Need you so badly.” 

“Rub your clit for me.” He demands, whispering out the words. “Need to see you come on my cock first, pretty girl.” The words are strained, and I can tell he’s doing everything to keep from spilling inside of me prematurely. 

There’s no reason to temporize, and my fingers make their way down to the sensitive bundle of nerves, and the effect is almost immediate. It takes roughly a minute of my incessant rubbing and the feel of him inside me before I’m coming with a soft shout, growing limp against the sink as my muscles twitch and fill me with a deep sense of relief and satisfaction. 

Spencer isn’t far behind me, humping into me a few more times before coming inside of me, the release signified with a loud moan and a sense of warmth flooding my deepest point. He slumps against my back, pressing a few, soft kisses to my neck. 

As we both come down from our highs, I recall the words Spencer mumbled in my ear previously. I let out a self-satisfied giggle, which Spencer smiles at. 

“Mm. What’s that about?” He murmurs. 

“You love me?” I ask, softly. 

A pause. 

“A little.” He responds, voice equally as soft. 

“Is that why you stopped having sex with me?” I mumble out, gently. 

He presses another kiss to the nape of my neck. “Mhm. Please don’t be mad.” 

I let out a soft chuckle. “Not mad. The opposite, really.” 

He pulls me up, causing us both to look at each other. “You feel the same way?” 

I nod, biting my lip. “We could try this out, I think. I want to, Spencer.” 

I stop, and decide I do need to tease him a bit, especially after the sex-less agony he put me through for a month. 

“Though, I do recall someone telling me too much of a good thing can go bad..” 

His lips part in confusion, before he picks up the teasing nature of my words and leans in for a soft, simple kiss. He keeps his forehead on mind, his eyes staring into mine with a gentle reverence. 

“Let’s indulge just this once.” 

holy shit has it been a long time since i've written a fic!! i'm so sorry?! i've been dealing with life and other assorted things and writing sort of took a backseat in that period of time <3 i hope this was okay. as usual any feedback, likes, comments, reblogs are so so greatly appreciated. i love writing for spencer, and i hope you guys like that writing too <3 i'm sorry that the two previous fics i promised seem to be delayed, i swear i'm gonna write those next, but inspiration sort of just struck on my end f or this, and i hope it was good <3 but yeah!! thank you so much for reading and interacting with this in any way you choose!! i appreciate it greatly!!