#sorry for the spinning i was trying to find a good angle to see the words while opening my minimap at the same time

[killjoy-prince]

This dialogue brought my attention to something that's obvious but I never thought about before until it was said out loud

[caitlinsclark]

REASSURANCE caitlin clark caitlin clark x reader | summary: Caitlin needs to be reassured and you're the only person who can do it. based on this request. ✰ part of my 500 follower celebration! word count: 1.3k masterlist and tag list

You were getting ready for a dinner with the team, celebratory after beating Liberty in an unexpected battle that went down to the last second. After losing to them three times before, the girls were determined and it showed on the court.

You’d ran into Caitlin’s arms upon the buzzer going off, eager to shower her in praise for an amazing game played, “I’m so proud of you!”

You were a little deterred by the way she loosely wrapped her arms around you, patting you halfheartedly in comparison to the usual show of spinning you around gleefully.

Though you chalked it up to a possibility of the cameras and watchful eyes causing her hesitance. And you tried not to take it to heart when she spent the entire ride staring intensely into her phone, close to her face and body angled so it was almost shielded from you. 

She didn’t even seem to indulge in the hand you had lying on her leg, simply entranced by whatever she was scrolling through. So when you got home, you allowed her the space she seemed to need and started getting ready on your own.

“Cait, are you almost done?” You called out from the bathroom, waiting for her to respond. When nothing but silence rang out, suspicion started to build within you.

With narrowed eyes you walked back into the bedroom, finding your girlfriend laid out on the bed, engrossed in her phone. This normally wouldn’t be too strange, but you had only a few more minutes to get ready and she hadn’t even started.

Approaching where she laid on the bed, you let your hand run down her back gently, “Whatcha doing, pretty girl?”

She frowned at the nickname and your mind ran a million miles an hour, as it usually it invoked the opposite reaction. Her phone immediately got turned off and you tried not to read into it irrationally.

“Sorry, I’ll go get ready,” Caitlin stood up abruptly and tried to escape the situation by heading toward the bathroom. You caught her hand before she could try, staring at her with a straight face. She squirmed under your gaze, not very great at hiding when things were wrong.

“Do I have to torture it out of you, really?” You tried to pull her closer by her waist but she shied away from your touch. A frown settled on your face and it matched the one that had been stuck on hers. 

Her arms crossed over her chest as a method of protection, so you gently laid your hands on arms, a peace offering.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, thumb running over her skin with care as you searched her brown eyes for the slightest indication of what was wrong.

You could only watch as she unexpectedly let her head fall onto your shoulder, a wrecked sob escaping her that had your own heart clenching in your chest. You slid your hands to wrap around her upper half and pulled her into you, welcoming the way she fell into your hold seeking comfort. 

Your hand held the back of her head, keeping her secure as she tried to calm her breathing, small cries leaving her body. But your hand soothingly on her back allowed her to settle into you, knowing she could take her time and you’d still be patiently waiting. 

“I keep seeing people talk about me and my game day outfits,” She finally spoke into your neck, squeezing your waist to distract herself from the thought again, “that I’m too feminine, or I’m not feminine enough. That nothing fits me right. I never see anything good.”

“You’re looking in the wrong place for something good, Cait,” You corrected softly, running your fingertips through her hair, “You know instead you can ask me, you can ask Kate, Aliyah.” 

She followed your touch like a magnetic pull, realizing that focusing on it was a better remedy than the silence she previously chose.

“And if you had asked me, who is very knowledgable in beautiful women from dating one so long,” You kissed her forehead softly, “You look gorgeous in everything you wear, no matter the style.”

She didn’t seem to believe you the first time, “But they’re right, it doesn’t look right on me. I don’t even look confident.” Her voice fell toward the end, still shaky. 

You were quick to reason with her, “Then you use the next few games to find your style, baby. It’s your style for a reason, and you’ll feel confident when you feel comfortable.” And she knew you were right, hated that she couldn’t snap out of the mindset she was stuck in.

"You're just starting, Caitlin," You pointed out and your voice didn't leave room to argue, "You have every game ahead of you to wear the right outfit, or the wrong outfit. And the thing is, you'll look beautiful each time because it's not the clothes making you gorgeous."

She felt herself being put under your spell, your words dripped in a honey that was hard not to give into. Her head finally lifted from your neck, red rimmed eyes blinking slowly as they connected with yours.

“I just don’t wanna look in the mirror right now,” She confessed quietly, too scared to ruin the blissful mindset you’d created by bad thoughts.

You ran your hands up and down her arms comfortingly, “Do you want me to help you get ready?” And when she sent you an appreciative nod, you adjusted your position to let her lay on the bed.

Shifting so you could straddle her waist, you set your makeup bag to the side of you, “I don’t do this for all my clients.” You teased as you gently tucked her hair behind her ears. You took the opportunity to press a small kiss on her cheek before continuing.

“There’s no other clients,” Caitlin mumbled, still too quiet to be counted as normal but slowly gaining her attitude back as her hands found your waist.

You snorted quietly to yourself and she felt her mood lifting at the sound itself. She closed her eyes contently, allowing herself to relax physically and mentally as you cared for her. You hummed as you ran your fingers gently over her face, taking the time to do her normal routine how you’d seen her do it a thousand times. 

Caitlin was going to remind you what came next, but realized she didn’t even have to because you just knew. And the realization made her settle into the bed with even more warmth than before.

When you were finished, you set a soft kiss on her lips and grinned lovingly as she chased after you longingly when you pulled back.

She shifted so she could lean her back against the headboard, holding you steady and close against her. Her frown was replaced with a tiny smile, playing with the hem of your skirt.

“You know I had three posts about your last game day fit saved,” The words were muttered against her ear in confidence and your heart warmed at the laugh she couldn’t help but let out. It was unfiltered and loud, ways better than when you’d first come into the room.

“No, seriously,” You insisted, forcing her to look you in the eyes, “You are the reason women question their sexuality daily.” You repeated it like a mantra, giving into the way she smiled at you as you praised her.

You cupped her jawline, running your eyes over her face thoughtfully like every detail needed to be memorized. The brunette felt her confidence raise with every loving caress you granted her.

Caitlin turned her head, leaving a lingering kiss on your palm, a silent reaffirmation of her gratitude.

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy @into-f0lkl0re @mysticchildsuit @sapphicmermaid

[seraphdreams]

RINDOU HAITANI.

content warning ⇾ fem!reader, brat taming, slight choking, slight manhandling, praise. 19+ mdni.

word count ⇾ 696.

“‘s a shame, really. such a pretty face.. but a dirty mouth.” rindou leans to whisper the last phrase against the shell of your ear, watching as a chill flurries down your spine. he’s got you on your knees in front of him—not facing him, though. you’re facing yourself in the large mirror as he sits on the loveseat behind you.

he wraps both hands around your neck, using his thumbs to push your chin up so that you are now eye to eye with him.

his lavender orbs gleamed of something far more sinister than you’d ever seen. perhaps, this was the look he’d give his victims before tending to business.

it was already a bad enough idea to try and ignore rindou at one of the various bonten clubs for fun, but it’s another thing to decide to get a little too mouthy with him which lands you right where you are now. naked and a mess; mascara running down your cheeks and his cum coating your lips like some fenty gloss.

“s-sorry, rin. ‘m really sorry.” you pitifully rasp, hoping your empty apologies put you back on his good side. he tsks, adding the slightest amount of pressure to your neck. “are you really?” he queries, one hand crawling up to cradle your jaw. you nod your head in response, mindless as such.

“prove it to me.”

as if on cue, as soon as he releases himself from you, you’re turning to climb into his lap. with his belt unbuckled and hard cock begging to be free from its confines, you attempt to take it out— “aht aht, turn back around.”

“but rin—”

you felt his large hands on your waist, manhandling you as if you were nothing and turning you so that you’re back facing yourself in the mirror. you see him quirk a brow at you through the reflective glass. “but rin? is there a problem?” his ask was more rhetorical than not yet you made sure to shake your head in an unaffirming way.

“good girl, i want you to see how stupid you look when this dick is inside you.” with one hand on your hip, he uses the other to take his cock from his boxers. he pumps once, then twice before slightly bending you over to slip his cock inside your hole. he was always so thick and hard to take in one swift go yet he made it seem dauntingly easy when he took control.

you sink down onto him adjusting to the stretch before he’s bouncing you up and down onto his length. wet squelches are sounded through the spacious penthouse each and every time your hips meet

“might get ya too embarrassed to ever brat again.” he taunts with a pinch to your clit. you feel the significance of his length creating friction against your sweet spot; every inch of it, each time he throbs, the veins that decorated his pretty shaft. it was all too much for you.

your head feels as though it’s spinning while mindless babbles continue to fly past your lips. “r-rin! too much, too deep..” you whine, in hopes he’d ease up with his vigorous pace. instead, he stands you both up, continuing his ministrations as he bends you over to fuck deeper into you.

“too deep? y’don’t even know what too deep is.”

you struggle in trying to find balance, your hands moving from his arms to his thighs as you feel your knees grow weak. he watches as you struggle, chuckling to himself. “touch your toes for me baby ‘nd maybe i’ll let you cum.”

you do as he says, bending down even further for him to allow his strokes to hit deeper, stronger. within a couple moments, you’re convulsing around his cock, lathering his length in your sheen while letting out a string of loud, lewd moans. he’s quick to follow after, a few hard thrusts until he’s filling you up full of his seed.

he pulls out, quickly pulling against him and gripping your jaw, angling your head towards the mirror. “you’re gonna be good now, yeah?”

you nod in your hazy state.

“good girl.”

reblogs are appreciated! (thank you anon for requesting <333)

[pankowperfection]

Taking what's mine

Summary: JJ gets tired of your teasing, taking matters into his own hands

Warnings: smut, bondage, CNC, dub-con, JJ's dirty mouth, slight degradation, spanking, choking, oral (male & fem receiving), orgasm denial, rough sex, 18+

Another summer night, another bonfire party filled with drunk girls throwing themselves at me. But the only girl I'm interest in is y/n. She's been teasing me for weeks, eyeing me like a predator watching its prey at every single party.

She's wearing those shorts that she knows drive me crazy, barely covering her delicious ass. She makes her way over to me, throwing her legs over my lap as she leans in to kiss my cheek.

"Hi J. You look so good in this green shirt, just thought you should know." She pulls back and god I want to wipe that smirk off her face. Her manicured nails rake down over my chest to my abs, my dick stirring to life in my shorts at her proximity and her touch.

"Is that right princess? Good enough for you to finally make a move?"

What she does next surprises me, positioning herself on my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck. Before I can question what she's doing she's kissing me, her perfect lips moving against mine and making my head spin.

I circle one arm around her waist, pulling her tighter against me as the other winds into her hair, angling her head so I can deepen the kiss. When my tongue pushes into her mouth she moans, tugging on my hair roughly and making me even harder than before.

It's over as quick as it starts. She pulls away, climbing off of me and straightening out her hair. "Come on y/n, enough with the teasing. Let me take you home." I push to my feet, trying to grab a hold of her hand but she slips through my fingers once again, just like the sand on the beach.

"Sorry J, not tonight. Gotta get home before my parents do." She blows me a kiss, turning and walking up the beach towards her car. Little does show know I'm tired of this cat and mouse game. If she wants me to chase her, I will. Let's just hope she likes what happens when I catch her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wait in my truck until all the lights are out in the house, wanting to make sure I won't be interrupted. I quietly climb the tree outside of her window, grinning to myself when I find it already open to let the cool ocean breeze blow inside.

She looks so pretty, sprawled out mostly on her stomach with her legs spread wide, silently inviting me to come closer. I slip my bandana off my neck, tip toeing to the edge of her bed and praying she's not a light sleeper. I wrap the material around her wrists, securing them together behind her back.

"Oh you're mine now sweetheart."

Excitement floods through me at all the possibilities. She shifts onto her back, giving me the perfect view of her barely covered tits and I can't help the rush of blood below my belt. I make myself comfortable between her thighs, dragging my fingers over her smooth skin. She stirs slightly, shifting to try to get closer to my hand and I know I'm in for a fun night.

My hands make their way under her poor excuse of a tank top, massaging each breast before starting to tease her nipples. My lips press softly against her upper thigh and she moans, eyes starting to open as I make my way closer to her soaking pussy.

Before she has time to process I lean down, pulling her shorts to the side and licking a stripe from her hole to her clit. Her hips buck but I force them down, holding them open with my hands as I start to run my tongue through her folds as slowly as I can.

"JJ? What are you doing? Why am I tied up?" She starts to thrash around, trying to get free but its no use. I easily hold her down, sponging kisses all around her pussy but not quite where she wants it.

"You see princess, I'm really tired of you of you getting me all hot and bothered then slipping away. So now I'm gonna take what I want."

I sit up on my knees, pulling of the green shirt she apparently loves so much and throwing it behind me. Her eyes rake down over my body, pupils blown with lust as she gets an up close look at me. My shorts and boxers follow after, her gaze locked on my hard on as I start to stroke myself.

"Wait J, please, no. I don't want this. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong idea."

I crawl back over her body, settling between her pretty thighs once again as I drag my fingers through her slit.

"Is that so? Then why are you so wet for me baby? Pussy doesn't lie, and yours is begging for me right now."

When I tap her glistening hole with my tip she shivers, trying hard not to look like she wants it even though her body is screaming for me to fill her.

"J please," she pleads and it just makes me want her more.

"Shhh. This isn't the part where you beg me. Not yet."

I just barely press inside, only giving her the tip and loving how her eyes roll into the back of her head.

"Try to be quiet. Wouldn't want your parents to find me in your bed and see what a kinky little slut you are, would you?"

I can't wait anymore. I snap my hips forward, filling her to the brim in one go, forcing me to bite my own lip hard to hold in the loud moan from feeling her hot walls wrapped around me.

She's squeezing me like a fucking vice grip, my abs tensing as I struggle to control myself. The idea was to torture her like she's tortured me, not go crazy in the first few minutes and fuck her into oblivion.

"Feel what you do to me sweetheart?"

I rock forward slightly, grazing her sweet spot and making her groan, her walls clenching down on me even tighter.

My hand finds her throat and I squeeze lightly, her eyes flying open to meet mine as I start to fuck her slow and deep.

"This is for all those times you teased me but didn't do anything to help. All those times I had to make myself cum with my own hand to the thought of you."

My pace gets faster, her tits bouncing deliciously in front of me as I fill her again and again. My free hand toys with her nipples, twisting each one as she arches her back under me. When I feel her walls fluttering I force myself to stop, pulling out and watching the frustration wash over her features at being denied her high.

"What the hell J? I was almost there."

I chuckle, rolling her to her stomach and pulling her hips up until her ass is high in the air for me. I can't resist the temptation, landing a sharp smack to her left cheek that instantly starts to redden.

"You think after weeks of torturing me I'm gonna let you cum that easily? No princess. You wanna cum, you're gonna have to beg me."

I push in slowly this time, watching closely as each inch disappears. She moans so loud the neighbors probably hear her, forcing me to wrap my hand over her mouth as her back meets my chest. "What did I say about being quiet?"

This angle is deeper, her moans growing in frequency as she works to meet my thrusts. I start kissing her neck, quickly finding her sweet spot and sucking a deep bruise into her flawless skin, claiming my territory.

My other hand finds her clit, rubbing in soft circles that have her trembling in my arms. "J please, I need to cum." I feel her tensing, her wetness seeping down her thighs, forcing me to slow my thrusts down to once again deny her.

"Sorry princess, only good girls get to cum and I don't think you've learned your lesson yet."

I reposition us once again, laying down on my back and pulling her to sit over my face. As I drag my fingers up her inner thigh she leans forward, coming to rest on my abs with my cock in her face. She takes the lead, sticking out her tongue and flicking it over the tip.

"Jesus baby. That's it, suck my cock and maybe I'll let you cum this time."

She makes quick work of my length, sucking me deep into the back of her throat and humming around me. God her mouth is like heaven, my balls already tightening at the feeling of her tongue tracing my shaft.

When my fingers tease her entrance once again she moans, the vibrations making my toes curl. I plunge two inside, setting a fast pace as my tongue works over her clit. The more of me she takes the more I give her, sucking her clit into my mouth and rolling it with my tongue.

She grows more desperate, throwing her hips back into my face as I replace my fingers with my tongue. Her head bobs faster, sucking me as hard as she can while her tongue massages my dick. She hollows her cheeks, giving me all she's got and earning what she wants. My balls tighten before I release, coating her tongue with my cum.

My moans push her over the edge, her thighs clamping down on my head as I continue to tongue fuck her through it. She lets me go with a pop, pressing kisses to my v lines as we both come down. I reach up to untie her wrists, rolling her off of me before leaning down to kiss her again.

This time is softer, my anger and annoyance gone after getting to take my frustrations out on her body. She wraps herself around me, pulling me on top of her while her hands push into my hair. "Fuck y/n, you'll be the death of me." She smirks, rolling her hips up to nudge at my already half hard dick. "Shut up and fuck me again JJ, I want to touch you this time."

@adventuresinobx @starkeyobx @paradisehamilton @ailee-celeste @pankhoeforlife @outerbankspov @houseofperfecttaste @drewbooooo @maybankslover @maybanks-luver @blueicequeen19 @toystory2wasjustokay @onmykneesforrafe @penny4yourthoughts @maddie-routledge @ilovetheavenger143

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

One Step Too Far

Series Masterlist

Warnings: none, Professor Steve (that’s a warning in itself)

Monday comes too quickly for your liking. You head across campus, wringing the strap of your knapsack as your mind wanders ahead of you. As much sleep as you lost last night trying to redo your first lesson, you know you'll lose much more after this meeting.

You head up the old staircases, built before elevators could save your calf muscles, and weave through the hallways. You stop outside Steve’s office and read the placard on the door. Dr Steve Rogers, Ph.D, Professor.

Your phone vibrates and you slip it from your pocket, swiping it open with one hand as you knock with the other. You smile at the screen as you read Jensen’s message. You’re meeting up tonight. You told him you need to study but you already know you won’t be doing much of that.

The door opens and you look up, your lips falling straight. You drop your hand and clutch the phone tight as Professor Rogers greets you flatly, “good morning.”

“Hi, Dr. Rogers,” you squeak and sway back and forth.

He considers you, blue eyes bold as the lines in his forehead deepen. His button up is rolled to the elbows and his hair is slightly askew. You feel as if you’ve interrupted him though he was expecting you.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“Come in,” he cuts you off, “I’ve been waiting.”

You wince as he spins on his heel, leaving the door open. You hesitate to break the threshold as you hike up your bag nervously. He seems distant. Almost angry, but why would he be. Maybe he’s just as frustrated as you with these last minute changes.

You step inside but before you get far, his gives another curt demand, “shut the door. My neighbours aren’t exactly fond of listening to my appointments.”

“Oh, sure,” you say as you obey, clicking the door gently into frame, “I, uh, was able to make a few changes already. I sent you the files this morning.”

“Yes, I saw,” he sits in the straight back leather chair and wheels it closer to the desk. He pulls his glasses down onto the bridge of his nose and focuses on his monitor, “it’s not enough.”

“I know… but I thought I could get started,” you cross the carpet and unhook the bag from your shoulder. You sit and keep it snug between your legs.

“You’re a clever girl,” he muses as his eyes list over to you, “you think you know everything, don’t you?”

“Sir, I–”

“You really are smart,” he affirms, “so you really shouldn’t waste that potential. Don’t let the noise of college get in the way of your degree.”

“Of course not, prof– professor,” you utter in confusion, “I’m not.”

“Good. I’ve seen a lot of students lose sight of what’s important. I just don’t want you going down the wrong path.”

“Uh, okay, yeah,” your leg jiggles anxiously. He notices and you still your leg. “Sorry.”

You don’t know why you’re suddenly nervous. Something is different. There’s a tension you can’t place. You feel as if you’ve done something wrong but you know you haven’t.

“It’s fine. Let’s get started. I think we should rewind here,” he turns his attention back to the screen and tries to angle it around. “Dammit,” he shakes his head, “why don’t you come around and see? I have some notes.”

You nod and stand. You step around your bag and round the desk, going to stand by his shoulder as he brings up your edited lesson plan. You spot the  tiny blue font in the margins. You bend forward to read it. It pretty much nixes every idea you have.

“You see what I see?” He says.

“Um…”

“We need to start over. From scratch. We can’t do any of this.”

“Really?” Your lips part in disappointment as you eye all your hard work. “Are you sure?”

He doesn’t answer. You frown and slowly look at him only to find him already watching you. He’s so close. You feel his breath. You carefully back away.

“Mhmm, I’m certain,” he says before he clears his throat, “come on. Pull your chair around and we’ll get started.”

“Oh, well, I could just take your notes–”

“We’re already falling behind, may as well just do it together,” he dismisses you breezily, “unless you have plans?”

“No, no, you’re right,” you go back around the desk to grab the chair, lifting it slightly to keep from bunching up the carpet as you pull it with you. “I’m sure it won’t take long.”

📚

You head back down the hall, feeling lighter now. You’re almost done your lesson and your bladder is empty. Your brief bathroom break has refreshed you but can only do so much to relieve you. You’re going to have to cram much more than you expect tonight.

You yawn as you sweep through the office door and hear a sudden clatter. You’re not paying attention as you enter but you see Steve spinning away from the desk as he shoves his hands in his pockets. He paces and stretches his shoulders and neck.

“Ugh, sitting so long makes me stiff,” he says, “ready to get this done?”

He goes to his chair and grips the back. You glance around but see nothing out of the ordinary. You must’ve just surprised him. You weren’t really paying attention.

“Sure, I need this done. I have so much studying to catch up on.”

You skirt around the desk and resume your seat next to him as he swirls around the mouse and the screen lights up. You sit back as he logs in and you reach for your phone. You should text Jake and let him know you might be a bit later than you expect.

There’s a message waiting for him already, your phone already unlocked. You must’ve forgot to hit the button before you went to the bathroom.

“So, I think from here–” Steve begins, “what are you doing?”

“Just checking the time,” you lie as you furrow your brow in confusion. You don’t understand what Jensen is saying. You scroll up to see your last message. Sent only a minute ago?

‘Hey, got some work to do. Not gonna make it tonight. Who knew being a TA was so hard?’

You didn’t send that message.

Jake’s reply is a frowny face followed by another in quick succession, ‘damn, maybe 2morrow?’

You lift your head and look at Steve as he scrolls through the document. His hand rests on his leg, fingers squeezing tightly. He wouldn’t. Who else could have?

You rise, the chair scraping behind you in your haste, “did you send this?”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t lie,” you back up, “I left my phone here and you— you sent– you told Jake–”

He turns to you and tweaks a brow, “I’m just looking out for you, is all. I figured this is gonna take us a while. I was just helping–”

“By going into my phone? Why would you ever do that?”

“I– I know it’s… honey, please,” he stands and you take another step back, “I was looking out for you. It kept buzzing and I just didn’t want you to worry about some boy.”

“Some boy– He— He isn’t any of your business,” you storm around the desk and scoop up your bag, “and neither is my phone. I can’t believe you would do that.”

“Wait, honey–”

“Honey?!” You stop by the door and face him, “Doctor, that’s not my name.”

His face goes rigid and a glint flashes in his eyes. A shadow darkens his face as his jaw squares and the sudden tinge of fury frightens you. You’ve never seen him like that. You’ve never seen anyone look like that. He looks… monstrous.

“It was a mistake,” he says tersely, “after all I’ve done to help–”

“I don’t want your help,” you swing open the door and stomp through, “goodbye, professor.”

[tragicfrabricofdreaming]

Dark Hearts .4

Summary: Cori Douglas has lived a somewhat quiet life in mystic falls. Despite a few slip ups, she has managed to fly under the radar with her best friends. That is, until her junior year when two new mysterious men roll into town and shake everyone up, including her best friend Elena. What will Cori find out about these mysterious men and about herself? Mostly follows the storyline of tvd show but may take some creative liberties.

“She swore vengeance on all men with dark hearts.”

― Lisa Papademetriou, Siren's Storm

Series Masterlist

The Miss Mystic Falls pageant was not something Cori would have signed herself up for. She liked watching it and it looked like everyone involved had fun but it just wasn’t something she imagined herself doing. If it wasn’t for the pressure from her sister and Caroline, she wouldn’t have signed up this year, either, but here she was standing in a boutique in town, scrutinizing herself as she tried on dresses with the guidance of Grace who had come in town for the festivities. Grace had won the title of Miss Mystic Falls the year before and it was part of her “duties” to crown this year's winner. 

“How cool would it be if I got to crown you the winner this year?” Her sister squeals as she zips up the next dress contender, a yellow, strapless number with a sweetheart neckline. It was one of Grace’s picks. 

“I know, that would be really cool.” Cori mumbles, her hands smoothing down the skirt of the dress. She didn’t want to immediately shut down Grace’s hopes but deep down she knew that they were hopeless. 

“What do you think?” Grace is holding her hands together excitedly as she looks at her sister in the mirror. The small shop wasn’t very busy but Cori still felt very exposed standing on the small platform and seeing three different angles of herself in the mirror. 

“I…” she was trying to find the right word to describe how she felt about the dress without sounding like a total whiny baby but the only words to spill out her mouth were, “I feel like a big bird. Or a banana. Or big bird holding a banana.” 

Grace sighs, her eyes rolling back in her head as she groans, “Cori, you have hated every dress we’ve tried on we’re going to run out of options.” She crosses her arms over her chest, “I’m gonna do another lap and see if I can find something that will check all of your boxes.” 

“I’m sorry!” Cori calls after her, turning to the side to try and get a glimpse of what the dress looks like from the back, “Just…none of them feel like me.” She says more to herself. She picks her hair up to see if the dress would appeal to her more if she had an updo but it appears her hair is definitely not the problem. Cori huffs. No matter the amount of colors, fabrics, styles, or necklines they tried she would never look like Grace did when she won last year. 

“That color is doing nothing for your complexion.” Cori gasps, spinning around to face Damon who was suddenly standing behind her with a garment bag slung over his shoulder. 

“God, Damon,” she clutches her chest, glancing behind her at the mirrors as if to deduce why she hadn’t seen him walk up, “what are you doing here?” She asks, her cheeks heating up despite her better judgment. She hadn’t seen him since the decades dance when they had danced and Caroline had practically shunned her. Her going through with the pageant was her way of making amends with her. 

“Picking up my tux,” he holds up the garment bag that was slung over his shoulder, “I may not be anyone’s escort to this thing but I’ll never pass on an event with an open bar.” Cori feels her heart give a little leap at the mention of him not being anyone’s escort yet. Maybe she would finally get the courage to ask him. “I didn’t pin you as the pageant type.” He smirks. 

Cori snorts, “I’m not,” she says, “But, my sister is and she won last year so she insisted that I sign up. Plus, I’m still trying to get back into Caroline’s good side so this will help.” She sighs deeply, turning to look at herself in the mirror again, tucking her hair behind her ears. 

“I’m guessing your sister is responsible for putting you in this,” he gestures to the yellow monstrosity she was currently wearing, “as well?” 

She laughs, looking at him over her shoulder as he approaches her slowly, “Yes, she’s somewhere in here picking something else out of my worst nightmare.” He drapes his garment bag over the back of a nearby chair and, to her surprise, stands behind her on the small raised platform she is currently occupying. Cori holds her breath, her face going red as she watches him in the reflection. 

Damon watches her face through the mirror as he collects her hair and pulls it behind her shoulders, exposing her neck. His fingers brush down the length of her pale throat, to her shoulders, and down her arm until he reaches her hand. His striking blue eyes are locked on her skin and he smirks as goosebumps rise on her arms. He holds her hand in his as if he’s examining it and she can’t help but allow her eyes to follow his actions with her gaze, still unbreathing–afraid that if she changed anything about this moment it would end, “Green.” He says suddenly, lifting his eyes to the mirror once again where their eyes lock, “Dark green. Like an emerald.” He leans forward, his lips right next to her ear, “That’s what you should wear.” 

“Yeah?” The word comes out as a pathetic squeak like she had forgotten how to use her voice in that short amount of time. 

Damon nods and she isn’t sure if she imagines the brush of his lips against her shoulder or not, “Trust me, I know my skin tones.” 

“Okay,” the voice of Grace returning snaps them out of their moment, and in the blink of an eye, Damon is a great distance away, retrieving his tux from the back of the chair. “I think I found a good contender–Oh, hi.” Grace stops at the sight of Damon, the purple dress in her hands seemingly forgotten, “I didn’t realize you had a friend back here.’ A flirty smirk appeared on her lips and Cori wanted to audibly groan but she can’t do that right now. 

“Uh,” Cori clears her throat awkwardly, “right, Grace,” she gestures to Damon, “This is–” 

“Damon Salvatore.” He finishes, stepping forward to take Grace’s hand, and, much to Cori’s surprise, presses a kiss to her knuckles, “Pleasure to finally meet you. You’re quite the legend around here.” 

Grace giggles, fluttering her eyelashes, “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s a small town, everyone knows everyone.” 

“Well, that’s true. But I haven’t heard anyone spoken so highly of like you are.” What the hell was going on? “Especially among Cori and her friends.” 

Her older sister tucks a hair behind her ear, feigning shyness and Cori rolls her eyes, “Are you coming to the pageant?” She asks. 

“Wouldn’t miss it.” Damon says, glancing at Cori, “My little brother is escorting Elena Gilbert.” 

“Oh, Stefan,” Grace realizes, “yes, Cori was telling me all about him and Elena. I hope Cordelia manages to find an escort as nice as him.” 

Damon raises an eyebrow, looking from Grace to Cori, “You don’t have an escort yet?” He asks. 

“No, I was–” 

“I keep telling her she has to get a move on,” Grace cuts her off like she isn’t capable of answering Damon herself, “All of the good ones are going to get scooped up.” 

I might as well not be in the room. “Isn’t that the truth?” Damon and Grace share a moment of laughter, “I’ll let you ladies get back to the dresses.” He says, taking a few steps backward like he was getting ready to leave, “I’ll see you at the pageant. Nice to meet you, Grace.” 

Grace cranes her neck to watch him leave the store, waiting for the door to close behind him before she turns to look at her sister, “Damn,” she whistles, “Why didn’t you tell me a new hottie had rolled into town?” 

Cori ignores her and sighs, “Did they have anything in emerald out there?” 

////

God, Cori, could you get any more pathetic? Just knock on the door and ask him. The worst that could happen is he says no and you go crawl into a hole in the woods. No big deal. Cori wings her hands together nervously as she stands on the porch of the Salvatore boarding house, her heart pounding in her chest. It was now or never. If she didn’t ask Damon to be her escort she would be stuck having her dad be the one to dance with her at the pageant which was just not an option. 

“Just do it.” She whispers to herself before she quickly raises her fist and knocks on the door sharply, immediately bringing her hand back down so she can chew on her thumbnail nervously. She waited for a few moments, staring to wonder if maybe he was still sleeping or had gone out somewhere. Just when she was starting to think there was no one inside the large house, the front door opened to reveal Damon wearing his signature jeans and a black t-shirt. 

At first, he looks surprised to see her and then he looks pleased, leaning against the doorframe with his usual smirk and his arms crossed over his chest, “Hello, Cordelia.” The smugness in his voice almost makes her want to back out of this plan altogether. “What brings you to my front door on this beautiful morning?” 

“Hello, Damon,” Cori chews on her bottom lip, the speech she had rehearsed suddenly fleeing from her mind, “Um…I was–” she swallows, “well, I was actually coming to see you because–” 

“Damon, what did you do with my shoes last night–” the voice behind Damon soon reveals itself to be the one thing that Cori had not predicted to be the worst outcome of this interaction, “Oh, Cori!” Grace appears behind Damon, wearing the same dress she had left their house in last night when she had told her she was going to meet some friends at The Grill. Apparently, based on the rest of her appearance, she had run into Damon while she was out, and…well, Cori didn’t really want to think about the events that followed after that. “What are you doing here?” She stands behind Damon, placing her hand on his arm like the picture of a perfect couple. 

Of course. Of-fucking-course. She had been so stupid to think that she could actually ask Damon to be her escort and that he would say yes. It was a joke. Her life, this situation, it was a complete joke. “I was…” Dammit, how could she get out of this? “I was looking for Stefan.” She lies, “We have a history presentation today and I thought we could go over it one more time, but I guess he left for school already so I’ll just–”

Damon is eyeing her curiously like he can tell that isn’t the real reason she came here. “Wait,” Grace stops Cori from turning away and making her escape, “Could you bring me to The Grill, I left my car there last night.” her sister giggles, sharing a knowing look with Damon. 

“I kind of have to get to school, Grace.” If Cori was trying to hide her annoyance, she wasn’t doing a very good job. 

“Oh, come on, Cor,” Grace whines, “It’s practically on the way, you won’t be late, I promise.” Cori looks between her sister and Damon, her heart sinking to her stomach. She felt so humiliated, so defeated, so angry…but that wasn’t anyone’s fault but her own for getting her hopes up. 

“Okay, fine,” she agrees, “Let’s go.” 

“Thank you!” Grace squeals, turning to Damon, “Shoes?” she asks. 

“Kitchen, I think.” He has a devilish glint in his eyes and Cori wants to vomit. Grace runs off to retrieve her shoes, leaving Cori and Damon in uncomfortable silence. She’s avoiding his gaze, looking down at her shoes and over her shoulder, anything to avoid looking at him. Damon’s eyes narrow, “Were you really looking for Stefan?” He asks her. 

“Yes,” Cori mutters, crossing her arms over her chest and focusing on a stain on her sneakers. 

“Then why did you pace out here for ten minutes before knocking?” Her head snaps up in surprise, staring at Damon with wide eyes. How did he know she was out here for that long? Had he been watching? Why didn’t he just open the door, then? Before she can ask any of these questions, Grace reappears, slipping her heels onto her feet. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” she smiles, stopping at the door to lean in and give Damon a kiss on the lips. A kiss that lasted way longer than it needed to. Cori turns away, “I’ll see you later?” She asks him. He simply hums in response. 

“Bye, Cori,” Damon calls to the younger Douglas as the girls retreat from his house but the only response he gets is the slight skip in her heartbeat when he says her name. 

Cori thought that she might actually have the ability to snap her steering wheel in half. The whole short drive to The Grill Grace just kept talking about her night with Damon. How he had been at The Grill when she and her friends got there and they just kept looking at each other all night. Her friends had left but she stayed to talk and drink with him until they closed the place and that's when they went back to his place. 

He’s just so mysterious and sexy. 

He is suuuuch a good kisser. And he’s LOADED. 

Cori only responds in hums and grunts, afraid of what will come out of her mouth if she opens it. That is until she slows to a stop on the street in front of where Grace had left her car. “Are you mad about this?” Grace asks her hand on the handle. 

“Why would I be mad?” Cori asks, her gaze focused out the windshield. In reality, she didn’t have a reason to be mad, this is just what happened when Grace was around. 

“Well…Damon said you might be.” It was a shock her neck didn’t break at the speed and force Cori turned to look at her sister. 

“Why did he say that?” She asks. 

Grace gives her sister a look, one that says ‘isn’t it obvious?’ “He said you had a little crush on him.” A heaviness sets in on Cori’s chest, “And I can see why he knows that, I mean, you could be a little more subtle, Cordelia.” Her gaze moves back to the windshield, angry and embarrassed tears stinging behind her eyes, “Guys don’t like it when you make it so obvious that you’re into them. It’s good to be a little mysterious.” And she just keeps talking. She won’t stop talking and every word is like she’s rubbing salt into her fresh wound, “I mean, he said he thought it was cute but he just doesn’t see you that way.” Just stop talking, please. “You’re not his type.”  I know. There’s a ringing in Cori’s ears, her sister’s voice fading in and out. The seemingly cloudless sky begins to look more overcast and the smell of rain fills the air, “Well, anyway. He’s gonna be my date for the pageant.” The beginnings of a drizzle start to hit her windshield as Grace opens her door and steps out, “Make sure you ask an escort today. Someone cute who can dance.” The door shuts behind her sister as the light drizzle quickly turns into a downpour. 

////

Cori does ask someone later that day at swim practice. A guy named Henry who she had enough friendly interactions with, was easy to look at, already owned a tux, and knew how to dance. It wouldn’t be a complete humiliation and maybe she could actually have a good time with him. 

“Isn’t Henry gay?” Caroline asks as she, Cori, and Elena are getting ready in the Lockwood mansion before the pageant. Cori was just putting the finishing touches on her makeup, her hair already done in loose curls with her bangs pinned back. 

Cori sighed, refraining from rolling her eyes, “Yes, but he’s nice and I didn’t exactly have many options.” Cori and Caroline had more or less made up. It was easier than Cori had originally thought since she had originally planned on having to defend her choice of Damon as an escort. That wouldn’t be a problem anymore. 

“It’s nice that Grace came into town,” Elena says from across the room, spritzing her hair with hairspray, “have you guys been hanging out a lot?” 

“Not really. She’s been kind of busy sleeping with Damon.’ Cori mutters before she can stop herself. Both the girls drop what they’re doing and turn to look at her with shocked faces. Cori pauses mid-lipstick application and blinks at them, “Oh…I forgot to mention that, didn’t I?” Elena and Caroline are frozen in shock and she sighs, setting down her lipstick and standing up from the vanity, “While you guys process this I’m gonna go get dressed.” She goes to grab the garment bag with her dress in it and makes sure her robe is tied firmly before she makes her way down the hall to the bathroom to change. 

She hadn’t exactly forgotten to tell Caroline and Elena, she just hadn’t felt like talking about it. She knew one of them would see through her unbothered act and she didn’t want the judgment or questions surrounding why she was so upset about the whole thing. She really had no right to be. She had no claim on Damon and she had been delusional to think otherwise. Sure, maybe she had been developing a slight crush since the distaste for him had worn off, but she had more appreciated the conversations they had. She felt like they understood each other to some extent and for him to just–

Cori sighed when she unzipped her garment bag, revealing the emerald green dress she had picked. The memory of Damon standing behind her in the store, his delicate touch on her skin, his lips against her cheek–she felt herself slipping back into the moment and shook herself out of it. It was a lapse in his judgment and a moment of weakness for her. So what if he had been dead on about green being her color, that was just luck. She slips into the emerald green, off-the-shoulder gown, smoothing her hands over the satin material. She stares at herself in the mirror, satisfied with the girl staring back at her. She was out of her comfort zone, that’s for sure, but maybe it would be good for her in the long run. 

She collects her robe and her empty garment bag, slipping out of the bathroom to head back to the main room. Before she can make it too far into the hallway, she bumps into just the person she did not want to see. 

“Damon,” she says in surprise. 

He smirks down at her. She wants to punch him, “I told you green was your color.” She looks down at her dress and hates the satisfaction he was obviously getting from the fact that she had taken his advice. 

She bites her cheek, “If you’re looking for Grace I’m sure she’s downstairs somewhere.” She makes a move to step around him but he cuts her off, almost sending her crashing into his chest. Cori sighs, looking off to the side to avoid making eye contact with him. She was not in the mood for this interaction today. 

“Are you still mad about this?” His tone is amused like he finds it laughable that she has this attitude with him. She doesn’t answer him, just stands there with her arms crossed over her chest and not looking at him, “The heart wants what it wants, Cordelia.” It’s just another joke to him. 

“I don’t care who you sleep with, even if it is with my sister.”  She finally looks at him, her eyes burning with rage and hurt. 

Damon smirks, “Then why are you acting so jealous?” 

“I’m not Jea–” Cori starts to raise her voice but stops herself, looking down at the ground as she takes a deep breath, “I’m not jealous.” She mumbles. LIAR. “It’s not the fact that you slept with her, Damon, or that you’re here as her date it–” she swallows, locking eyes with him again, “It’s the way you talked about me to her.” He frowns at her like he isn’t sure what she means so she continues, “You told her I’d freak out about you two because I ‘have a crush on you’.” 

“Well, you do, don’t you?” 

Cori groans loudly, throwing her hands up in frustration, “God, you are just so insufferable, aren’t you?” she exclaims, “I don’t have a crush on you, Damon. Believe it or not, I thought we were friends.” She laughs dryly, watching the smirk slowly fade from his face, “I thought maybe I was wrong about you and I had treated you so awful when you first got to town, and I actually felt guilty about it.” There’s a vase sitting on top of a small table in the hallway, and it starts to shake slightly. Damon glances at it but Cori doesn’t seem to notice, “All those conversations we’ve had–at the founder’s party, Halloween, the dance–I thought we understood each other. I actually thought that I had found someone who could relate to how I felt all the time.” Her voice gives out slightly and she shakes her head. Damon has a sinking feeling in his chest and looks at the shaking vase again, the water within it starting to bubble and steam. Cori still doesn’t seem to notice. 

“It was so refreshing to think there was someone I could talk to who wouldn’t constantly compare me to my sister. And yeah, maybe I was going to ask you to be my escort to this stupid pageant,” Damon’s eyes widened at that admission. He had no idea she had planned to ask him that, “but not because I had a little crush on you, but because I thought we could have a good time as friends. I thought on a night that I had been dreading all year I could spend it with someone who could make me laugh and make it not so awful.” The flowers in the vase wilt and the water starts to boil, the glass turning foggy with the heat of it, “But all this time,” the angry edge to her voice softens and there is such hurt in her eyes Damon feels a tug on his heart. The water in the vase starts to cool down, Cori still hasn’t noticed it at all, “you’ve been laughing at me behind my back just like everyone else in this stupid town.” 

“Corde–” Damon reaches out to touch her arm and she slaps his hand away. The vase starts to crack as the water inside begins to freeze, the temperature shocking the glass. 

“Just…” Cori swallows thickly, “Stay the hell away from me.” She picks up her dress and moves in the direction she came, heading back to the bathroom. As soon as Damon is left alone in the hallway, the vase shatters completely, leaving behind the flowers sitting on a block of ice on the table and a very, very confused vampire. 

Cori is so in her head as she returns to the bathroom that she doesn’t think about knocking. Her head was spinning with so many emotions and she just needed a minute alone before she had to plaster on a smile and pretend like she had any desire to be named Miss Mystic Falls. She opens the bathroom door and instead of it being empty like she had hoped, Stefan is standing at the sink, breathing heavily in front of the shattered mirror. 

She gasped, first feeling very embarrassed for barging into the bathroom when it was obviously occupied, and then feeling very concerned by the fact that the mirror which had been completely intact when she was in the bathroom only minutes before was now shattered in front of Stefan. 

“Oh my god,” she whispers, her eyes on the mirror as he turns to her slowly, “Stefan, what happened?’ She asks, finally directing her eyes to him. Another wave of shock rushes over Cori followed by another feeling that she couldn’t quite place. Stefan’s face was morphing into something that she didn’t recognize. His kind eyes were turning a frightening shade of red, with dark, pulsing veins appearing underneath them. “Stefan?” Cori manages to force out as he slowly approaches the door. The last thing she notices before the world goes blurry is sharp, menacing fangs protruding from his mouth. 

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 11 -

Chapter 10 ; Wattpad ; AO3

A/N: Heyyyy again THANK YOU ALL SO SO MUCH! I was so overwhelmed and happy with your responses <3  I try to write more now while I take some breaks from studying and working out :D I finally more of a plan on how to continue with the whole Azriel or Xaden drama ^^and maybe You‘ll now get the  inner circle and the fourth wing squad together now ^^

Nea‘s POV

Warm rays of sunlight, warm my face and wake me up. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I slowly open my eyes and look out of my window onto Velaris. The city slowly wakes up under the orange and red sunlight. With a deep sigh I turn around in my bed and nuzzle my face into Azriels chest. 

“Good Morning my love.” He smiles and kisses my head. 

“Hey Azzie” I mumble and press a soft kiss on his skin. 

“How did my angle sleep tonight?” His fingers dance around the curve of my hips. 

“Mhhh good I guess… I don’t remember much of it.”

“Really? You woke my up tonight, it seemed like you had a nightmare…” he replies softly. 

“Did I? I’m sorry.”

“No no it’s fine… it’s just …”

“Yes?”

“Forget it, you were just dreaming.” He shrugs and pats my hip. 

“No, no what is it baby? You promised not to keep any secrets.” I put. 

Azriel sighs and looks in the opposite direction.

“Who’s Xaden?” He whispers. 

“Who?” I ask and lift myself up on my elbow. 

“Xaden… you mumbled his name tonight… over and over …” His shadows swirl around his shoulders and you roll on top of him, straddling his waist. 

“Azriel I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about.” With both of my hands I grab his face and force him to look at me. “Hey … baby - you said I had a nightmare? So he probably was the monster in it.” I joke and place a small kiss on his lips. 

His hands grab my waist and he rubs small circles on my skin. 

“One more?” He pouts and I laugh while leaning down again, placing small kisses all over his face. 

“I love you.” Mumble before placing a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you more my mate.” He smiles against my lips and spins us around, “let me show you how much you meant to me, yeah?” His voice drops and his lips find my neck. 

“Yes please show me.” I moan out as his teeth gaze my skin and I feel him smirking while his shadows warp around my wrist pulling them upwards and pinning them over my head. 

“Had some special training this morning?” Cassias greets us, as we step into the dining room, the table already full with breakfast. 

“Yes real special.” Azriel winks and I roll my eyes, sitting down next to Mor and opposite of Nesta.

“At least you had more fun than I had.” Nesta groans and stretches out her sore muscles. 

“I missed you tho, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.” I smile at her. 

“Invite me next time.” She winks and Azriel rolls his eyes. 

“Keep on dreaming Nesta.” He says and grabs some orange juice. 

Soft tipples run around the table and a soft “meow” echos from under the table. 

“Loooook who woke up toooo.” Mor beams and reaches down, lifting up a small black cat. 

“Noctissss where have you been? Why are you so dirty?” She runs her hands over the soft black fur, trying to get all the dust off him. Noctis meows again and stretches out his little paws in my direction. 

“Nawww do you wanna come to me? Get out of Mor’s grip?” You laugh and more hands him over. 

As soon as he’s in my arms, he starts purring and nuzzles his little head on my neck. 

Azriel smiles and reaches over me, scratching my in between his ears. 

“Such a happy little family - I’m going to throw up.” Nesta fake gags. 

“Hey Az, how are your wounds healing?” Cassian asks and looks over at Azriel. 

“They’re still not healing…” he sighs and I look over at him confused. What wounds? 

Looking at his beautiful face, I see a red tear running over his soft skin. And another… and more… blood spills out of his nose and eyes and ears. 

“Nea wake up.” He says while blood spills out of his mouth. 

I scream and shoot up, ripping the covers off. 

Sweat runs down my skin and my head shoots to the left and right, trying to orientate myself. 

This is my room. In Velaris. In the house of wind. This was all a bad dream. 

“NEA!” The door slams open and Mor storms inside. 

“Mor?” 

“Omg Nea, you’re finally awake!” She says and tears run down her face. 

“It’s the middle of the night, what do you mean finally?” I ask confused. 

“You’ve been asleep for about two weeks now.” Rhys answers calmly and walks around Mor. 

“Two weeks?” I whisper, “Why?”. 

“You don’t remember?” Rhys asks and sits down next to me on the bed. 

I close my eyes trying to concentrate on the last thing I remember, but everything’s dark. 

“No… Rhys I just know going to bed in Basgiath… and waking up here.” 

Basgiath… Noctis!

“You’re finally back little one.” His deep voice echos though my mind and immediately I start to feel more calm.

“… Do you want me to show you?” Rhys asks. 

“Yes please.” I whisper and a second later I feel him knocking on my mind. 

Nea‘s POV

Warm rays of sunlight, warm my face and wake me up. A soft smile tugs at my lips as I slowly open my eyes and look out of my window onto Velaris. The city slowly wakes up under the orange and red sunlight. With a deep sigh I turn around in my bed and nuzzle my face into Azriels chest. 

“Good Morning my love.” He smiles and kisses my head. 

“Hey Azzie” I mumble and press a soft kiss on his skin. 

“How did my angle sleep tonight?” His fingers dance around the curve of my hips. 

“Mhhh good I guess… I don’t remember much of it.”

“Really? You woke my up tonight, it seemed like you had a nightmare…” he replies softly. 

“Did I? I’m sorry.”

“No no it’s fine… it’s just …”

“Yes?”

“Forget it, you were just dreaming.” He shrugs and pats my hip. 

“No, no what is it baby? You promised not to keep any secrets.” I put. 

Azriel sighs and looks in the opposite direction.

“Who’s Xaden?” He whispers. 

“Who?” I ask and lift myself up on my elbow. 

“Xaden… you mumbled his name tonight… over and over …” His shadows swirl around his shoulders and you roll on top of him, straddling his waist. 

“Azriel I seriously have no idea who you’re talking about.” With both of my hands I grab his face and force him to look at me. “Hey … baby - you said I had a nightmare? So he probably was the monster in it.” I joke and place a small kiss on his lips. 

His hands grab my waist and he rubs small circles on my skin. 

“One more?” He pouts and I laugh while leaning down again, placing small kisses all over his face. 

“I love you.” Mumble before placing a kiss on his lips. 

“I love you more my mate.” He smiles against my lips and spins us around, “let me show you how much you meant to me, yeah?” His voice drops and his lips find my neck. 

“Yes please show me.” I moan out as his teeth gaze my skin and I feel him smirking while his shadows warp around my wrist pulling them upwards and pinning them over my head. 

“Had some special training this morning?” Cassias greets us, as we step into the dining room, the table already full with breakfast. 

“Yes real special.” Azriel winks and I roll my eyes, sitting down next to Mor and opposite of Nesta.

“At least you had more fun than I had.” Nesta groans and stretches out her sore muscles. 

“I missed you tho, it feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.” I smile at her. 

“Invite me next time.” She winks and Azriel rolls his eyes. 

“Keep on dreaming Nesta.” He says and grabs some orange juice. 

Soft tipples run around the table and a soft “meow” echos from under the table. 

“Loooook who woke up toooo.” Mor beams and reaches down, lifting up a small black cat. 

“Noctissss where have you been? Why are you so dirty?” She runs her hands over the soft black fur, trying to get all the dust off him. Noctis meows again and stretches out his little paws in my direction. 

“Nawww do you wanna come to me? Get out of Mor’s grip?” You laugh and more hands him over. 

As soon as he’s in my arms, he starts purring and nuzzles his little head on my neck. 

Azriel smiles and reaches over me, scratching my in between his ears. 

“Such a happy little family - I’m going to throw up.” Nesta fake gags. 

“Hey Az, how are your wounds healing?” Cassian asks and looks over at Azriel. 

“They’re still not healing…” he sighs and I look over at him confused. What wounds? 

Looking at his beautiful face, I see a red tear running over his soft skin. And another… and more… blood spills out of his nose and eyes and ears. 

“Nea wake up.” He says while blood spills out of his mouth. 

I scream and shoot up, ripping the covers off. 

Sweat runs down my skin and my head shoots to the left and right, trying to orientate myself. 

This is my room. In Velaris. In the house of wind. This was all a bad dream. 

“NEA!” The door slams open and Mor storms inside. 

“Mor?” 

“Omg Nea, you’re finally awake!” She says and tears run down her face. 

“It’s the middle of the night, what do you mean finally?” I ask confused. 

“You’ve been asleep for about two weeks now.” Rhys answers calmly and walks around Mor. 

“Two weeks?” I whisper, “Why?”. 

“You don’t remember?” Rhys asks and sits down next to me on the bed. 

I close my eyes trying to concentrate on the last thing I remember, but everything’s dark. 

“No… Rhys I just know going to bed in Basgiath… and waking up here.” 

Basgiath… Noctis!

“You’re finally back little one.” His deep voice echos though my mind and immediately I start to feel more calm.

“… Do you want me to show you?” Rhys asks. 

“Yes please.” I whisper and a second later I feel him knocking on my mind. 

[mikalame]

hey!! i hope ur doing good<3!

can u please write manzini fluff or just general headcanons w/ a reader who has a emo/punk style? if he'd try on anything or shop w/ reader, just stuff like that!

enjoy ur night/day💜💜

"Stop complaining mister, you said that if i won in the race i could do your make-up so hush" You snap at your boyfriend whose wiggling in your make-up chair.

"Yeah i didn't expect you to go all out you know, just thought you would do my make-up not make me a whole new person" He groans looking at the mirror the dreads that are clipped back pulling on some of the little baby hairs.

You put some light conclear under his eyes to make the eyeliner you smudge around his eyes really pop. "Now Kristoffer i need you to stay SUPER still so i dont stab your eye cause im bout to tight line it mmk"? you say holding his face in a death grip his cheeks pushing together making his lips smush.

"O-okay" he mutters i little terrafide that your are putting a pencil near his eye but non the less he lets you continue. "I trust you" he says as he watches the pencil get closer to his eye "Are you sure the grip you have on the armchair right now would tell me other wise" you giggle softly before pulling his lower eyelid down and gentaly running the pencil over it.

After you finish that up you quickly apply some mascara pulling the eye make-up together. You step back adimering you work before grabbing some highliter and lightly dusting it over his cheekbones and nose to give him that sorta Edward Cullen look.

"We done" he smiles desprately wanting this to be over "no not yet" you run to the bathroom and grab some black hairspray temporary dye. "YOUR NOT DYEING MY HAIR BLACK" Kristoffer jumps from the chair holding his hair as if it would fall out if you got the can anywhere near his hair.

"Its only temporay it will wash out in like 2 washes if you scrub hard enough" You say rolling your eyes sarcasticly while shaking up the tube. You hear a groan before the chair sqeaks as kristoffer sits back down he eyebrows scrunched hands clamped togther.

"You'll be fine kæreste (sweetheart in danish i did you google translate tho sorry)" you grab a row of dreads a spray over them the black washing over them completely before you move onto the next row. You made sure to do all the visible dreads first just in case there wasn't enough spray to cover them all and your glad you did as the can could only cover like 90% of the dreads.

"Hair all done what do you think babe" You spin his chair to face the mirror like they did at the salon. Kristoffer's eyes which had been shut tight slowly opening them squinting in the mirror before opening them completely taking in the whole affect.

"Wow babe, didnt think i would look this great with spray dye black hair gosh" he says with fake shock. You smack him lightly over his head rolling your eyes again at his antics. You move towards the closet to grab some clothes of his that could kinda match the look you were going for.

Only finding a black baggy shirt you were NOT happy you rummage through your draws and find a back singlet with some graffic design on it. You chuck it over your shoulder "Put this on" you say to Kristoffer "Wait i have to dress as well" he sighs but goes along with it "of course you have to dress up dont be ridiculous" you say leaning on your hip sassy chucking a pair of your black yoga pants that would stretch comfortably over his waist.

"Pants as well" he groans grabbing the pants you chucked at him before gripping the bottom of his shirt pulling it over his head gasping when he sees some black residue on the neckline of his grey shirt "Ah there spray on my shirt" "It'll wash out" you laugh grabbing it and putting it inside of the washing basket.

You turn back around and see a struggling Kristoffer his arms in an uncomfortable position bent at a weird angle with the shirt bunched up at his collar bone "Help" he says. You giggle before rushing to help him get unstuck.

Straightening the shirt once you fixed it you move a couple of his braid around to make them look nice and neat before turning around so he could remove his pants while also grabbing a couple of your studded belts, necklaces and bracelets with vibrant colours.

"The yoga pants are doing wonders for your ass babe" you laugh when you turn around "my ass always looks great thank you very much" he says snapping his fingers making you laugh even harder "really getting into character now, well put these on" you say showing him the assortment of accessory's you placed on the bed in there respective groups.

"Ooooo" Kristoffer says grabbing the colourful accessories and putting them on " How do i look" he smiles brightly showing off his outfit doing a quick 360 of it all "very snazzy" you giggle.

With the outfit you are currently wearing and Kristoffers new outfit you decide you need to do a cute little photo shoot. You drag you boyfriend over to you decorated wall and make him do some poses before you get dragged to go some selfies with him, laughing your asses off while snapping photos.

A week later Kristoffer comes back to your house running up to your room after your parents said that you were in the shower and you would be a couple minutes longer. He closes the door behind him and takes in the room's decor noticing something was a little off. His eyes leading over to your photo wall his eyes focusing on some of the new photos. A couple of your friends at some concert and some random ones of pets and then seeing a few of the pictures you two took together his eyes softening running his finger over the picture smiling softly.

Hope you enjoyed please do leave requests of anybody you would like i can even be people i haven't written before i am trying to get back into writing.

Taglist: @oppopotamus@violentnewmarley@saumspam@adissonsss

[jujumin-translates]

Sakuya Sakuma | [SR] Just Like Magic | Trapeze Challenge

Izumi: Alright then, let’s call it here for today.

Muku: Okay! Good work today, everyone.

Kazunari: Nice job, gang~! Haah, all that moving around really works up an appetite~.

Homare: Hm, now that you mention it, I certainly am famished. Shall we head to the lounge and find something to eat?

*Door closes*

Sakuya: Um, Director. Can I talk to you for a sec?

Izumi: What’s up?

Sakuya: So, there’s that scene with the trapeze in the upcoming performance…

Sakuya: And since we’re not actually doing trapeze stuff on stage, I was wondering about how to make it look realistic…

Izumi: That’s a good point, it’s something you need to portray through direction and acting. Hmm, a trapeze artist in a circus…

Izumi: Ah, I know! How about you talk to Misumi-kun?

Sakuya: Oh yeah! Kazunari-san did mention that Misumi-san had a part-time job at a circus at one point.

Izumi: Let’s head over to his room.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: --So I was wondering if you could teach me some stuff about it.

Misumi: I see~! So you’re playing a trapeze artist this time, huh, Sakuya~.

Sakuya: Have you ever done any trapeze stuff, Misumi-san?

Misumi: Yeah! I have~.

Izumi: As expected…!

Sakuya: Waah, that’s awesome, Misumi-san!

Misumi: Being on a trapeze is all like, whoosh, and spin, and then tri~angle~.

Sakuya: W-Whoosh and triangle…?

Misumi: Hmm~… It’s hard to put it into words~.

Izumi: I guess that something like that is probably more of something you feel rather than something that can be described…

Izumi: Hmm… Too bad we can’t actually see it in person…

Misumi: Ah~! I know!

Misumi: There’s a place where I practice for my circus job, so you should come with me and try the trapeze, Sakuya~!

Sakuya: Eh, can I really do that?

Misumi: Yeah! And they’ve got safety nets and everything, so you don’t need to worry!

Sakuya: But wouldn’t it be inconveniencing for me to just show up out of nowhere like that…?

Misumi: It’ll be a-okay~. You’ll be coming with me, and everyone there is super nice!

Sakuya: Umm, well then, if you’re sure, I’ll accept your offer.

Misumi: Yeah! Just leave it to me~!

Misumi: Director-san, do you wanna come too~?

Izumi: Eh, me?

Izumi: (It’s not every day that you get to see circus practice up close like that… And it’d be a great reference for the upcoming performance.)

Izumi: Okay then, I’ll come along to study too.

Misumi: Yeah! Ehehe, I can’t wait~!

Sakuya: Me neither!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Over there is where you can practice the trapeze~.

Circus Member A: And… Hup!

Circus Member B: Okay, I’ll go this time, so make sure to catch me!

Sakuya: Whoa…!

Izumi: It’s even more impressive seeing it in person…!

Sakuya: That’s amazing! Everyone is swinging and flying so freely…!

Misumi: Over there is where you’ll be flying from, Sakuya~!

Sakuya: Eeh!?

· ❀ —– ٠ ❀ ٠ —– ❀ ·

Circus Member: Hello. Ikaruga-kun has told us a lot about you.

Izumi: Sorry to have asked for your help on such short notice. Thank you for helping us today.

Sakuya: I’ll do my best!

Circus Member: Likewise. Okay, so first, you can start by getting on the trapeze at the lower point.

Misumi: I’ll practice with Sakuya too~! Let’s do our best!

Sakuya: O-Okay!

Izumi: I’ll watch from here. Good luck, you two!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: Hup, and…!

Circus Member: There you go. Seems like you’re getting the hang of it.

Misumi: You’re really good, Sakuya~!

Sakuya: Thank you!

Circus Member: Alright, seems like you’re about ready to actually give it a go.

Circus Member: We’ll get all your safety gear attached, and there’s the net beneath you too, so you don’t have to worry.

Sakuya: O-Okay.

Izumi: (From the ground, the actual trapeze is pretty high up. Probably at least 7-8 meters…)

Circus Member: When I give you the signal, just hook your legs and change your posture, just like you did at the lower level.

Circus Member: …And, go!

Sakuya: …Gh!

Circus Member: There you go, not bad!

Misumi: That was good, Sakuya~!

Sakuya: Haah…!

Circus Member: Let’s try this other technique next.

Sakuya: Okay, I’ll do my best!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Circus Member: You were able to do all the basic techniques really well, so let’s try one last more complicated one.

Sakuya: I-I’ll give it my best shot!

Circus Member: So, Sakuma-kun, what you’ll do is hang by your legs from the trapeze like this--.

Circus Member: And then you’ll jump over and grab the arm of the staff member coming from the other side.

Izumi: (That’s the thing those other circus members were doing when we got here…!)

Izumi: You can do it, Sakuya-kun!

Sakuya: Yeah…!

Circus Member: Alright then, let’s begin.

Circus Member: …Now, grab the other person’s arm!

Sakuya: Gh!

Izumi: (Ah! Sakuya-kun fell off the trapeze because he couldn’t grab the other person’s arm…!)

Sakuya: S-Sorry.

Circus Member: Don’t worry about it, let’s try that again.

Circus Member: …Okay, and grab!

Sakuya: …Ah!

Sakuya: Hmm…

Izumi: (He’s already tried quite a few times and he hasn’t gotten the hang of it yet it seems…)

Sakuya: Sorry… I don’t know why, but I haven’t managed to get the technique down yet…

MIsumi: Hey, hey, can I go on the other trapeze and try to catch Sakuya~?

Circus Member: You want to, Ikaruga-kun? I don’t see why not…

Misumi: Then I’ll go swap places with the other person.

Izumi: (Ah, this time Misumi-kun will be the one catching Sakuya-kun.)

Circus Member: Ready?

Sakuya: Yeah.

Misumi: Sakuya~! I’ll catch you this time~!

Sakuya: Misumi-san! Let’s do our best!

Circus Member: Alright, on my signal. Now!

Sakuya: …Hn.

Misumi: Sakuya, now!

Sakuya: Yeah!

Izumi: (! Sakuya-kun jumped over and gripped Misumi-kun’s arm!)

Sakuya: Yay! We did it!

Circus Member: Great job, that was perfect!

Izumi: You two were amazing!

Misumi: Ahaha, yaay~!

Sakuya: Thank you so much, Misumi-san!

Sakuya: And thank you so much to everyone here! I learned a lot.

Circus Member: It was nothing. I hope this was helpful for your play. I’ll definitely come to see it.

Sakuya: Waah, thank you so much! I can’t wait for you to see it!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Misumi: Well, I’m gonna stay and practice for a bit longer~.

Izumi: Okay, got it. See you later.

Sakuya: Good luck with practicing!

Misumi: Thaaanks!

Sakuya: …Haah… I’m still a little jumpy because I can’t get over how thrilling it was to be flying through the air like that.

Izumi: I felt that thrill just watching you. You two were really incredible.

Sakuya: It’s kinda strange… At first, I was so nervous while in the air that I couldn’t pull off the technique…

Sakuya: But when Misumi-san was my partner, I was able to pull it off so easily.

Izumi: Maybe you just trusted Misumi-san more.

Sakuya: I’m sure it was that!

Sakuya: Ah, not that I didn’t trust the staff there or anything…!

Izumi: Ahaha, don’t worry, I know what you meant.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Choose!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 1: You were really cool!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: You looked really cool while flying through the air on the trapeze, Sakuya-kun!

Sakuya: Thank you so much…!

Sakuya: Having you there cheering me on from the ground really helped me out a lot, Director.

Sakuya: I’ll do my best to remember what I learned today for the performance!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Option 2: Was it helpful for your role study?

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Izumi: Was today’s experience helpful for your role study?

Sakuya: Yeah, it was! I’m so glad Misumi-san brought me along.

Sakuya: The posture, the timing, how it feels to be on a trapeze…

Sakuya: I hope I can make use of all of them for the play. And most importantly…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Sakuya: To trust in your partner and swing confidently… So hopefully it’ll really look like a real trapeze on stage.

Izumi: Yeah. I’m sure if there’s anyone who can pull it off, it’s you, Sakuya-kun.

Sakuya: Yeah…! Please keep watching me, Director!

[kiissme]

muse — KURT BAKER. 39. straight. private detective. dan stevens fc. plot — kurt is working a cheating husband case, hired to prove the fidelity of his client’s husband. his usual honeypot actress cancels in the last minute, and your muse, his girlfriend, volunteers to go in her place — he’s got some reservations. age gap friendly.

          A sigh immediately comes from his lips at the first sight of her, full of nerves and second thoughts. “That, uh...” he started, blue eyes drinking her in at every angle and curve as he usually did. Kurt being a man of observation and would often take a moment to admire her like this, commit every detail to memory. Yet unlike those other times, doing so doesn’t bring him comfort. Apprehension fills him to his core and it shows in his eyes. “It’s a good dress. Wonderful dress. My favorite dress you own...” Fingers reach to scratch the side of his face, against his beard. “Are you sure you want to do this, because we could just... Do this another time? I... I can find someone else and I won’t put you in this position where I have to see someone else hit on you and the urge to punch him doesn’t erupt in me. It’s ridiculous, I know, and very....caveman of me but it’s um....” he trailed off, nodding his head, “It’s a distinct possibility. Because....” He let out a nervous little laugh, gesturing his hand toward her, “How could he not? I’m trying to not go crazy at the thought, like it’s... It’s shocking to me how this idea is making my head spin, frankly, and it’s making me realize parts of myself I don’t like.” Taking a deep breath, he attempted to calm himself, “I’m sorry, I’m being an idiot. Tell me I’m being an idiot.”

[evansblues]

She went into this thinking it would be nice, that she’d found something good. She wanted him to love her. The second card is the five of cups, I’ve seen it coming up a lot lately with regard to all this, not just in my readings. The five of cups is about sunken investment and crying over spilt milk. She went in with high hopes and then the storm hit, she was hated and hurt and felt completely caught out. She apparently wasn’t expecting it, they didn’t prepare or warn her. That’s really shitty of them. She decided to lean into the hate out of stubbornness. She feels it’s a part of who she is and it’s being attacked, she needs to defend herself. You hate me? Well here I fucking am!

This will not go well.//

If she and her friends didn't troll since the end of 2021 and then over NYE 1 the hate would've been monumentally less. There's so much that happened over Spring-Summer 2022, things that she did, made her look pathetic and slightly obsessed with Chris. This was the time no one thought of a PR relationship angle. She just looked obsessed with him and his image. I side eye her for pedo baiting with the weird photoshoots and infantilizing or lolitafying herself. Then the racist stuff was the final nail in the coffin. I mean sure we laughed at her showing her mom's age and faking a yoga instructor certificate to prove the haterz wrong......but that shower video, really Alba? What better way to show how mature and down to earth you are! Then deactivating and trying to spin it like it like it was something similar to Chris's accidental leak from 2020...........talk about obsessed and obtuse.

I felt for her up until the point in early in 2022 when she was deleting comments calling her out for pedo baiting but leaving out comments falsely accusing Chris of being a pedo and groomer! I remember feeling sorry for her late 2021,in November when some people on tumblr and twitter were targeting her and stirring rumors about them dating. I thought poor girl is being targeted by a big male actor's fandom. Now I'm like 99% sure it was her team or even her and her soulmate bestie stirring up those rumors before they would be seen in Vermont and then Concord and LV.

You mod are very kind, you are constantly so kind towards this girl. I have read your previous interpretations of her charts. But I just cannot conjure up any feelings of kindness towards her anymore. I just think she's reaping the effects of everything she's done so far.

I understand why people dislike her but I do not believe anyone would care quite so much if he would bother to play the loving boyfriend. The frustration I see in this fandom is that he would pick someone like her, that he is with someone like her, that he left his advocacy behind. No one in the fandom would care who she is if it wasn’t for his choices, and they are his choices. Ending this is his choice. I do have a lot of sympathy for her and part of that is he agreed to come out with her publicly, for love or money, but he doesn’t act like he has her back. That’s not gentlemanly. He had a choice to not do this early last year, March or May I think, I picked up on this and so did other readers. He didn’t choose to. I cannot vilify her for his choices. Yes, she has much growing to do but so does he, if he acted like a better boyfriend I think personally this would not be so horrible. If he had stuck to his advocacy so many less people would be utterly disappointed in him. I have sympathy for them too, he was a voice for justice and that meant something to people. I hope he finds that again.

[blu-joons]

When You Get Home Later Than You Were Supposed To ~ Seventeen Reaction

S.Coups:

“You’re here,” Seungcheol smiled, relieved to see you at last walking through the front door.

“I’m so sorry,” you immediately spoke up, only to see Seungcheol approaching you whilst shaking his head. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much of a mess it’s been.”

He took a hold of both of your hands, pulling you closely into his chest, “I know how busy things have been for you recently, I had a feeling after a while that you’d be snowed under, that’s why you didn’t pick my calls up.”

“You called me?” You queried in surprise, looking down into your pockets to try and find your phone, “I had no idea, I’m sorry.”

A gentle chuckle came from Seungcheol, “you don’t need to apologise, you’re home now and you’re safe, that’s the only two important things to me right now, I promise.”

“I should have told you that I’d be late though.”

“It’s one of those things.”

“How are you being so nice?” You laughed in reply to him, “whenever you come home late, I’m like a bomb exploding beside you.”

Seungcheol nodded in agreement with you, “because I know how it feels to be busy and lost, now I get it from this angle too.”

“We’re both pretty rubbish at letting each other know.”

Jeonghan:

“Hey,” Jeonghan whispered, spinning around to finally see that you managed to get home.

“Can we go to bed?” Was all you could ask as soon as you closed the front door behind you, looking across with hopeful eyes as he stood up from the sofa.

Jeonghan quickly neared you, taking a hold of your hand. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he sniggered, attempting to lead you up the stairs, only to be pulled back by you to the sound of you laughing.

“I mean that so I can sleep,” you informed him, watching his expression drop, “I’m so tired, I’ve never worked this long.”

A sigh came from him, although deep down he understood how tired you were, “I was beginning to wonder whereabouts you had gotten to, it’s so late now Y/N.”

“I might have just lost track of time tonight.”

“Not working too hard?”

“I’m alright,” you assured him, not wanting to give Jeonghan any reason to worry, “things are getting done over there, just slowly.”

His head nodded, attempting again to lead you up the stairs for much different reasons, “don’t work yourself too hard though Y/N.”

“I promise, I’m doing alright despite the hours.”

Joshua:

“Finally,” Joshua noted as he heard the slam of the front door, watching you stomp through.

“I give up,” you huffed, throwing yourself down onto the sofa, finally letting the tears fall that you had been holding onto for the whole of your ride home.

All frustration disappeared for Joshua as he watched you wipe underneath your eyes. “How come you’re home so late?” He quizzed, taking a seat on the floor just beside the sofa, “has something happened Y/N?”

“Why is it always me?” You asked Joshua without much context, “the one that they always want to do that little more.”

It didn’t take much for him to know exactly what you were talking about, “this is the third day this week that you’ve worked two hours over the end of your shift.”

“I just can’t say no to any of them Joshua.”

“But you’re exhausted Y/N.”

“I know,” you sobbed, feeling his hands cup either side of your face to wipe away your tears, “my body feels like giving up.”

His head shook back across to you, “you can’t give up, things are going to get easier, and if they don’t, then I’m going to help you.”

“I know one thing; I can’t keep this up any longer.”

Jun:

“Let me guess, Y/F/N didn’t let you leave,” Junhui remarked as you finally made your appearance.

“She did,” you sniggered in response to how well Junhui knew you, “she made everyone stay for another round, she was buying, so how could I say no to that?”

His eyes rolled as you dropped down onto the sofa, resting yourself into Junhui’s lap, allowing him to see your wide smile. “I’m guessing by the look on your face you had a good brunch with your friends then?”

“The best time,” you grinned, resting your hands against his chest, “how’s things been for you here and all by yourself?”

His eyes narrowed, staring down at you, “things were going alright until you didn’t appear, then I started to think about what sort of chaos you and your friends were in.”

“We didn’t get into any trouble this time.”

“Are you absolutely sure?”

“We didn’t get kicked out,” you joked, watching as Junhui’s eyes went wide, “that’s actually pretty good progress compared to usual.”

His eyes rolled in response to you, “sometimes I wonder how you’re so crazy, and then I remember who your friends are.”

“What can I say? They’re just bad influences.”

Hoshi:

“Are you kidding me?” Soonyoung scolded as he walked through the house to see you finally home.

“What?” You asked in confusion, feeling his presence come up alongside you almost straight away, a look of anger washed upon Soonyoung’s face in frustration.

His hand reached down, pulling your phone out of your trouser pocket, “would it kill you to text me that you’re going to be a little bit later home? I’ve been going out of my mind trying to figure out where you are.”

“I wasn’t thinking, I was too busy at work,” you sighed, resting your hand against his arm, “I had no intention of leaving this late.”

His eyes continued to look over you, slowly calming himself down, “did it not even cross your mind to let me know what you were doing, I was going to start searching.”

“I’m only about an hour late Soonyoung.”

“That’s a long time Y/N.”

“Stop,” you whispered, shaking your head with a light chuckle, “it’s an hour, shall we go through all the times your late home?”

Soonyoung’s eyes flickered up across at you, “I’m never late,” he tried to argue, knowing that he had been late plenty of times too.

“Now you know exactly how I feel with you.”

Wonwoo:

“Steady,” Wonwoo laughed, struggling to keep it together as he watched you fumble in the door.

“I’m home,” you chuckled loudly, feeling his hands onto you once he was close enough to you, trying his best to keep you upright as you wobbled on your feet.

His smile was wide as Wonwoo studied the delight that was on your face. “I think someone might have had one drink too many,” he commented, trying to lead you across to the sofa as soon as he possibly could.

“No,” you argued, unaware of how late it was, or how long Wonwoo had been waiting up for you to get home.

He didn’t mind too much though, relieved that you had had a nice evening out with your friends. “You are definitely going to regret all of this in the morning Y/N.”

“I’m not drunk if that’s what you think.”

“I don’t think, I know.”

“I’m fine,” you continued to try and reassure Wonwoo, blissfully unaware of how slurred every single one of your words was.

At the least though, it made Wonwoo laugh as he continued to steady you, “I wish you could see yourself right now Y/N.”

“Stop making out like I’ve had too much to drink.”

Woozi:

“What time do you call this?” Jihoon blankly asked you as you finally returned to your apartment.

“Late,” you huffed, walking through to join him in the living room with a dishevelled look on your face, “annoyingly late for a time to arrive home to be honest.”

Jihoon’s head nodded, studying you closely, “you never actually told me what was holding you up?” He quizzed, noticing the red tint that was in your cheeks too, beginning to wonder what was really going on.

“I had a few plans to put into place,” you simply answered, giving as little detail as you possibly could to Jihoon.

Your words only ended up annoying him more though, keeping his eyes on you. “What sort of plans would you have to sort out at this time of night, it’s a bit strange.”

“Why do I have to tell you always?”

“Are you not being honest.”

“Wow,” you scoffed, holding your arms across your chest, “can you remember what day is coming up in a couple of weeks?”

A sigh came from Jihoon as he thought momentarily, “my birthday,” was all he could whisper, trailing his voice off at the end.

“It’s nice to know what you think of me though.”

DK:

“Nice of you to show your face,” Seokmin teased as he turned back to see that you were home.

“Shut up,” you groaned, poking your tongue across at him as you threw yourself down on the sofa, “I’ve never wanted to hand my resignation in this much.”

Seokmin continued to have a smug smile on his face, having gotten home hours before you had, “there’s some food in the kitchen with your name on, I can reheat it for you if you want to eat it warm.”

“Why are you enjoying this?” You laughed across at him, “it’s alright for you having gotten home at a reasonable time.”

His shoulders shrugged as he sat down beside you, “you’re always this smug whenever I come home late, it’s nice to see it from a different perspective for once.”

“I take care of you when your late home.”

“I offered you food.”

“You’re so annoying,” you sighed, pushing your hand against Seokmin’s arm, “although if that food is still being offered around, then I wouldn’t say no.”

Seokmin quickly stood up again with a nod of his head, “when you eat the food, don’t forget that I made it because I care for you.”

“Can you just hurry before I end up falling asleep?”

Mingyu:

“You idiot,” a voice chuckled as arms flew around you as soon as you opened the front door.

“Steady,” you laughed, holding onto Mingyu’s arms to steady yourself as he rested his head on top of yours, relieved to finally have you home with him.

His grip was tight bringing plenty of laughter out of you. “I know that you said you’d be late home, but I didn’t think you’d end up being this late,” he whispered, tilting his head down to study you closely.

“I didn’t want to be home this late,” you sighed, resting your head against his chest, “I feel like I’m just ready for bed.”

Mingyu smiled down at you as your head tilted up to look up at him, “you can’t go to bed just yet, you’ve got to wash and eat, I’ll help you out if you need me to.”

“I’ve already eaten, our boss bought us dinner.”

“The least he could do.”

“He didn’t want to work us this hard,” you tried to defend, “and he was very apologetic when he finally decided that we should call it a night too.”

Mingyu hummed in reply, still not entirely impressed, “if he keeps making you work this late, I might have to say something to him.”

“Don’t, I promise that I’m doing alright Min.”

The8:

“Hey,” Minghao whispered, jumping at the sound of the door finally opening up to reveal you.

“Hi,” you groaned, barely able to carry yourself through the door, completely exhausted after what could only be described as your longest day ever.

Minghao rushed across to you, helping you to take your coat and shoes off. “Tired?” He asked, giggling softly as your head nodded back at him. “Do you want me to run you a bath? Your muscles must be exhausted.”

“My body feels ready to collapse,” you explained, allowing Minghao to take your hand and walk you into your home.

His head nodded as you spoke, “why don’t you lay down on the sofa and I’ll go up and run a bath and sort you out something to eat, you must be hungry too.”

“It’s too late for me to eat anything now.”

“It’s never too late Y/N.”

“My tummy is a little empty,” you began to cave, watching Minghao’s eyes roll at how well he knew you, even if you pretended not to be.

He continued to lead you across to the sofa, “you’ve had a long day, just sit back and let me look after you for the rest of the evening.”

“Thank you Minghao, you really are the best.”

Seungkwan:

“Where were you?” Seungkwan asked as you finally took a seat down on the sofa next to him.

“I told you, I was working late,” you reminded him, noticing a look of suspicion on Seungkwan’s face as he looked across at you, “my boss called me.”

His head nodded, although Seungkwan still remained a little doubtful, “are they allowed to call you in last minute like that? I don’t get why you’re the one that they always call when they want extra work completing?”

“What are you trying to say Seungkwan?” You questioned, knowing by his tone of his voice that he was uncertain of you.

His eyes looked down to the ground with a shake of his head, “ignore me, I’m just worrying. They obviously asked you to work because they know you’re capable.”

“Not because you think that I’m cheating?”

“I never said that Y/N.”

“You didn’t have to,” you responded, shuffling a little further away from him, “you forget how expressive your face can be sometimes you know.”

Seungkwan tried to reach out for you, but you moved away, “I can’t believe that you’d even think that I’d do something like that to you.”

“I know you wouldn’t, I was just being stupid.”

Vernon:

“You remembered to come home then,” Vernon remarked, looking up to see you walking in.

“I tried to leave, but you know what Y/F/N’s like, she called me back for one more drink,” you tried to explain, noticing how panicked Vernon was.

A sigh came from him as he reassured himself that you were safe after beginning to worry about you. “You could have text me Y/N, you told me you’d be home by half eleven, it’s almost on in the morning now.”

“I know,” you frowned, taking a seat beside him on the sofa, “and I am really sorry, I didn’t mean to not get in contact.”

Vernon’s eyes glanced across at you, smiling weakly as he noticed how sincere your expression was. “Next time, please just give me a call or something Y/N.”

“I will, I just wasn’t thinking at all.”

“Too many cocktails perhaps?”

“I think so,” you groaned, resting your hand to the top of your head, “I’ve not drunk that much in a long time, I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

His hand nudged gently against your arm, “I told you to be careful when you left the house, you know that I always know you best Y/N.”

“I should listen to you more from now on.”

Dino:

“Your home,” Chan sighed, turning back on the sofa to watch you walking through the door.

“I’m so sorry,” you responded, hanging your coat up, closing the front door behind you, “I got lost in a pile of emails and then time just ran away with me.”

Chan’s head shook as he stood up and walked across to you, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame, “you don’t need to apologise, I understand how work can be most nights, I’m just glad that you’re home safely.”

“I should have text though,” you tried to argue, but Chan continued to shake his head, refusing to let you blame yourself.

He squeezed you tight before moving his hand into your back, guiding you into the house, “I’ve not eaten yet because I thought I’d wait for you to eat together.”

“Chan, it’s so late, you must be starving.”

“Not too bad, I don’t mind.”

“I’ll cook,” you spoke, but his hand pulled you back when you went to walk into the kitchen, “you’re not cooking when you’ve been waiting.”

His head nodded in agreement with you, “I wasn’t thinking about either of us cooking, I was thinking about us just ordering in food instead.”

“Oh, I like the sound of that idea much more.”

---

Masterlist

[searidings]

hi, i just love you and your writing

can i suggest something - you are in love (taylor swift) and supercorp

i cannot listen to that song without going yeah, that's them

(also on ao3 if you prefer)

Five years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, five years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which is as close as Lena's come to happiness since she'd woken up ziptied to a chair in her brother's office. This moment which, despite the fuzzy feeling of her unbrushed teeth and the pungent aroma of burnt toast filling the air, is perfect.

Kara, bed-warm and sleep-heavy, is gazing beseechingly down at the charred remains of a slice of a bread as though if she only pouts hard enough, its edges will un-blacken and its corners will stop smoking.

“I'm so sorry,” she says as Lena rounds the screen separating Kara's bedroom from the rest of the apartment and perches herself on a barstool, tugging her borrowed sleep shorts a little lower down her thighs.

Kara's tone is mournful, her face so forlorn she looks to be one deep breath away from tears. “I wanted breakfast to be perfect, since it's your first time staying over and if it's terrible you might not want to stay again and I, I really want you to stay again, but I don't know why you would since you probably have a private chef waiting for you at home and I can’t even manage toast—”

“Kara,” Lena interrupts, biting at the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing as Kara's bottom lip trembles. “It's fine, really. I once set fire to my dorm kitchen trying to boil an egg. And besides,” she winks as blue eyes meet hers. “I like to give my personal chef the weekends off.”

Kara huffs out a relieved chuckle, her face brightening. “Oh, well, in that case,” she grins, a sparkle returning to her eyes. “I'd better feed you up before you go home. Never let it be said that I don't look after you.”

Lena can't help the smile that pulls at her as the warm bright feeling in her chest grows and grows. She tugs the sleeves of Kara's sweatshirt over her hands, fighting the urge to fidget as the blonde orders a frankly obscene amount of food from the brunch place on the corner.

She feels exposed like this, face bare and hair sleep-mussed, unshowered with unbrushed teeth, huddled inside borrowed clothes after the impromptu invitation to stay over when last night's movie marathon ran late. It's a far cry from the regimented composure she fights so hard every day to project, and something in her chest twists anxiously.

Kara is a reporter, after all, and National City really doesn't need any more reasons to hate Lena right now. The darkest corner of her mind – the one which has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for everything to come crashing down ever since the whirlwind of Kara's too-good-to-be-true friendship had come blazing into her life – still worries that this may all be an elaborate ruse. A trap, a way to get close to her in order to assess her weaknesses, to bring her down with an inside scoop.

But in their six months of friendship, Kara's never given her any reason to believe she has any kind of ulterior motive. And despite the suspicions and anxieties hammered into her by a lifetime of hurt, Lena knows now that even if this is a trap, she'll take the bait willingly. Especially if it means Kara will keep looking at her like there might just be something in Lena that's worth her time.

"Hey,” the blonde says gently, leaning back against the counter opposite and pinning Lena with a searching look. “You okay? You kind of zoned out on me there.”

Lena jumps, blinking back into herself with a start. “Yes, sorry. I was miles away.”

The blonde only smiles, flicking on the coffee machine at her elbow. “You sleep okay?”

“Very well, thank you,” Lena answers, fighting to lessen the formality of her tone, to soften the edges her harsh childhood had sharpened into a fortress to keep the world at bay. “Your bed is surprisingly comfortable. I had a great night's sleep.”

"Perhaps the company had something to do with it,” Kara winks as she turns to pull two mugs down from the hooks at her shoulder. Lena thinks back to the smell of Kara's sheets and the soft pulls of her breathing, to the warmth of Kara's ankle against her calf and the strong fingers that had wrapped themselves in the sleeve of Lena's sweatshirt in sleep, anchoring them together. She blushes.

Kara only smirks, pouring their drinks and grabbing the milk from the fridge. “Well, the food's all ordered, it should be here soon,” she says over her shoulder, the waterfall of her golden ponytail mesmerising in the bright rays of morning light filtering in through the vaulted windows. “And you don't need to head off in a hurry, unless you have plans—?”

She glances back at Lena, who shakes her head. “Great!” she grins. “’Cause I was thinking, maybe we could check out the botanical gardens, since it's such a nice day? Oh, and there's a new bakery right across the street that I've been dying to try—”

Lena listens to the blonde's excited rambling with an endeared smile plastered to her face, feeling happy and warm and wanted with every fibre of her being. The feeling is new but so welcome she could cry, and Lena wonders – not for the first time – how she ever got so lucky.

Kara's presence in her life is like sugar in her coffee; meant only to sweeten that which has always been bitter.

Lena's always taken her coffee black. Softening the blow was never much her style.

But here, now, perched at Kara's breakfast bar with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug the blonde has brewed to perfection, sunlight streaming in and highlighting the angles and planes of Kara's face, the way she’s smiling at Lena like there's nowhere else in the world she'd rather be, she realises her reasoning is twofold.

Sugar isn't just appetising. It's addictive. And now that Lena's had a taste of sweetness, she's hooked.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Four years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, four years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which may well be one of the lowest of Lena's life. And she's had some doozies.

The two bottles of wine she'd managed to mainline between Sam leaving to orchestrate damage control at L-Corp and Kara arriving and attempting to confiscate her glass have well and truly caught up to her now. She sways heavily on her stool, the room spinning. Tears sting her vision and guilt scorches her throat as she presses a hand over her eyes so she won't have to look at Kara's face anymore.

“Please, just— just, stop believing in me, okay?” she slurs, heart full to shattering with the faces of lead-poisoned children. “I am not worth it.”

She hears Kara sigh, and the room falls silent for a long long time. Lena drops her head fully into her hands, fighting the nausea that's taken root in the pit of her stomach. It could be the booze that's causing it, of course, but it could also be the incessant headlines baying for her blood, the bullet James had taken for her that she'd fully deserved, the curse of her family finally fulfilling itself.

The guilt, the worry, the crushing disappointment of the knowledge that despite her very best efforts, she'll never be anything but a monster— it's too much to feel. It's too much to bear.

So, Lena drinks.

She drains her glass. She pours another. Kara watches, silent and disapproving, fingers twitching against the granite countertop between them.

Lena finishes her glass. Splashes the last dregs of the bottle into it, blood on ice. Still Kara watches, motionless and mute. It's only when Lena's swallowed the last of the red and is lurching unsteadily to her feet to source another that she moves, a hand reaching out to encircle her wrist.

Shame ignites beneath her skin and she pushes Kara away. Snaps at her to go home, to learn to recognise a lost cause when she sees one and just give up already. Kara refuses with a stoic shake of her head, and Lena sighs.

They repeat the same routine three times en route to Sam's wine rack, the blonde shadowing her every step. Each time, Lena wobbles, head fuzzy and room spinning. Each time, Kara steadies her, and Lena flinches from her touch like her palm is a brand, snarls at her to leave, to cut her losses, to just fuck off. Each time, Kara refuses.

She eventually retrieves the wine after a number of unsuccessful attempts but overbalances on her toes, bottle slipping from her grip as she sways dangerously. And then Kara is there, glass bottle caught a split second before it can shatter, a firm arm at her waist that will not be rebuffed.

Lena struggles, shoving and protesting, but this time Kara does not give in. “Enough,” she says quietly, firmly, blue eyes burning a mere inch from Lena's own. “Lena, enough.”

Lena's unsteady legs buckle further and Kara’s basically holding her up now, walking her slowly over to the couch and she shouldn't be this strong, surely, shouldn't be lifting Lena onto the cushions quite this easily. But it's such a minor concern when weighted against the fact that Lena is personally responsible for the hospitalisation of children that her mind brushes over it, forgets it immediately.

"Please go home,” she slurs as the blonde arranges her on the couch, as she stashes the unopened wine far out of reach and sets about finding blankets and pillows in various cupboards. “Please, just— leave me alone.”

“No,” Kara says, almost snaps, glancing back over her shoulder. Partially hidden in the linen cupboard, her face is cast deep in shadow, a splinter of half-concealed truth. “I made you a promise, I gave you my word. I'm your friend, and I will protect you. Always.”

She crosses back to the couch, soft blankets and pillows held out in invitation. When Lena refuses the offering Kara sighs, draping a knitted throw over her anyway and perching on the cushions beside Lena's hip. “I'm not going to leave you, so you might as well stop asking,” she hums, softer now, a hand reaching toward her that Lena no longer possesses the strength or coordination to bat away.

Long fingers make contact with her cheek, with the mussed curls tangling in her eyelashes, and Kara sighs. “You are not your brother,” she murmurs, fingertips grazing Lena's cheekbone, sliding back to thread into the fine hair at her temple. “And you never will be. There's too much light in you to allow for that kind of darkness, so put that fear down, Lena. Let it go. Be free of it.”

Tears spring unbidden to her eyes. “I poisoned children.”

Kara tilts forward and Lena wonders if it's just that her vision has upped its spinning, but then warm lips are pressing against her forehead, soft and delicate as gossamer wings. Kara's mouth moves against her skin, breath damp and sweet and unmistakeably her. “You saved the world.”

Neither one of them moves. When Lena speaks again, the words hit the elegant hollow of Kara's throat. “I don't deserve your kindness. I don't deserve you.”

Kara's lips are still on her forehead. “I don't care.”

Lena feels as if her throat is splitting open, every last fear and hatred and worry and insecurity gushing out of her in an unstoppable stream. “I'm scared.”

“I know.” Kara's lips press once more, and then withdraw. They watch each other in the dim light from the kitchen. Lena's vision is beginning to blur at the edges. Kara's hand is still in her hair.

“You will get through this,” the blonde whispers, so earnest Lena almost manages to believe her. “We'll figure it out. Together.”

Heart in her mouth, tongue sticking behind her teeth, Lena's eyes slide closed.

The sweetness of Kara's words, her gentle touches, seep inside her like honey. She doesn't deserve it but God, she wants it. She wants to be worthy of Kara's faith in her more than she's ever wanted anything in her life. She wants Kara more than she's ever wanted anything in her life.

And it's telling, she knows, that she's just lost the trust of all of National City, that she has no way of easing those children's suffering and no way to prove that she isn't the cause of it, that she's finally living up to the Luthor name she's been running from ever since she'd learned what it truly meant and yet in this moment, with Kara's hand in her hair and the ghostly imprint of her lips on Lena's skin, none of it seems to matter.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Three years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, three years from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which stands alone as an oasis of calm in the turbulent tumult of the past days, weeks, months of chaos. Lex's escape from custody, Eve Teschmacher's betrayal, James’ shooting, the Harun-El serum, the whole shitty totality of it all has been weighing Lena down like an nth metal chain around her neck.

And Kara, Kara hasn't been around. The one person who has always managed to ease Lena's suffering has deserted her when she needs her the most and it feels like she's been sliced open, cracked in two.

She tells her as much, when Kara at last comes to see her. Tells her she's missed her, tells her she needs her, all but begs her to stay. And what does Kara do? She leaves.

And when she leaves, Lena is gripped by a panic so intense she fears she may never breathe freely again. So terrified is she that Kara is gone for good, that she's forced away the best thing that's ever happened to her, that almost before she knows what's happening she finds herself at Catco with apologies dripping from her own tongue.

Anything to get Kara back. Anything to keep her.

Lena apologises. Kara apologises. Lena cries, and Kara holds her, and tells her that the decision to help her brother when he was dying of cancer doesn't make her the monster she now believes herself to be. And standing on her office balcony with Kara's fingers wrapped around her biceps, with her own tears spotting dark on Kara's blazer, Lena manages to believe her.

When she's collected herself, smoothed away the wetness coursing down her cheeks, she speaks. “I really want to help you with your investigation on Lex.”

Kara's face lights up; Lena's whole world along with it.

“I'd love that,” Kara says, voice quiet and still a little tentative in the wake of their new truce. “But first— would you, um. Would you like to have lunch with me?”

Lena blinks. “Don't you want to get started on the exposé?”

“I do. But—” Kara's face is still painted that earnest shade from earlier, when she'd smoothed her hands over Lena's shoulders and whispered you are a brilliant, kind-hearted, beautiful soul against the sensitive skin of her neck. Lena feels her cheeks heat up at the memory, at the intensity in the blue eyes still roving her face.

Kara shuffles her feet but her gaze is clear, unwavering. “But you were right. I've spent too much time recently prioritising the wrong things. So, I want to work on this exposé with you, and I want to bring your brother down. But first, I'd really just like to have lunch with my best friend.”

Lena's heart trips in her chest. “I'd like that too.”

So, that's what they do. Kara asks her to wait, which she does, idly tapping out a few emails on her phone. And then the blonde is back, far quicker than should have been possible, with her arms full of takeout bags from the café on the third floor and she's taking Lena by the hand and leading her to Cat Grant's private elevator. She presses the button for the roof and Lena's gaze jumps to her face but Kara only smiles, and squeezes her fingers. “Trust me, it'll be worth it,” she hums, her excitement infectious. “You'll be safe with me.”

And Lena believes her.

That's how she ends up sitting at the edge of Catco's roof on a clean sheet Kara had borrowed from the builders on the second floor, heels kicked off, Kara's red blazer draped around her shoulders. It is worth it, she'll admit; the view from this high is phenomenal. The sun burns bright in a cloudless sky, glinting off the glass-sided skyscrapers of the business district, the glittering waters of the bay beyond.

Kara had picked up Lena's favourite salad, some flatbreads and dips, and they drink kombucha and eat strawberries in the sunshine. They talk and they laugh and they catch up and there's no more fighting, no animosity, no megalomaniac brothers or backstabbing secretaries or worlds needing to be saved. There's only them, she and Kara, and it feels like all she will ever need.

The blonde's hands are braced behind her on the rooftop and she looks happy and carefree as she regales Lena with stories of her upstairs neighbour's antics, and Lena feels the tight knot of tension that had taken up residence in her chest begin to unfurl.

"Hey,” Kara hums, pushing up straighter as Lena licks strawberry juice from her fingertips. The motion brings them closer, their shoulders brushing. “Look up.”

Lena does. High above them, a huge murmuration of starlings whirls and swoops through the air. Thousands of birds move together as one, a vast wave cresting but never breaking against the blue canvass of sky.

“Wow,” Lena gasps, awed.

Against her side, Kara hums. “Yeah.”

They watch the birds for a long moment, captivated by the ceaseless swirling and diving. When Lena at last tears her gaze away from the sky, Kara's eyes rest intently on her face. "Here,” the blonde murmurs, reaching out. The pad of one finger makes feather-light contact with her cheek. Lena's breath catches in her chest.

Kara holds out her finger, proffering the stray eyelash she'd captured with a smile. "Make a wish,” she whispers, her fingertip an inch from Lena's mouth. Her eyes never leave Lena’s.

Lena looks from Kara's face to the eyelash, and back again. From somewhere deep inside her heart, the truth bubbles its way to the surface. “I don't need to.”

Kara smiles, a brilliant, beautiful smile, and Lena knows. The stresses and anxieties of their current crisis feel far away here, harmless as birdsong. She's meted out forgiveness, received it in return. For the first time in her adult life Lena has communicated an issue with a loved one and been heard, understood. She has admitted her own mistake without having it spell out the end of her relationship.

Lena smiles back. The weight of the world sublimates into nothing beneath the bliss of a simple picnic in the sun.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

Two years from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, two years from now, Lena will think back to this moment.

This moment, which has sapped the both of them to the bone. Another fight, another screaming match, another quick-fire back and forth of accusations and recriminations. Another night of cursing and crying and choking on all the things they never said before this, on all the things they can't now that Kara's secret has detonated in the shrinking space between them like a nuclear bomb.

Another round of bloodshed, and for what?

Lena sags against the arm of the couch, exhausted. Her face is hot, scratchy with salt from the tears still drying on her skin. She's dehydrated, probably, and half hoarse from shouting, tongue blistered with the bitter sting of betrayal.

Across the no man's land of her living room, Kara slumps against the floor-length windows, drops her temple to the cool glass. She's breathing heavily, cheeks wet, posture battered and eyes dark-bruised beneath the force of Lena's wrath. As Lena watches, her eyes slide closed.

It's been three months since Lena found out. Three weeks since Kara found out that Lena had found out.

Every night since, they've done this. Every night, Kara has shown up on her balcony and begged, pleaded, apologised, cajoled, defended, rebuffed, and sobbed. Every night, Lena has unleashed the hollow agony of Kara's deception masquerading as anger in her chest, incinerating the both of them in the fires of her desolation.

She would have expected the wounds to have cauterised by now. To feel some kind of release, the relief of catharsis. Or at least, to have expended some of her fury after all this time.

She hasn't.

They've been at this for three hours already this evening, and gotten nowhere. Kara's skin is pale above that fucking supersuit, face drawn and complexion sallow.

Lena knows how she feels. The singular exhaustion that is her rift with Kara has sapped her in every way imaginable. She can't sleep. She barely eats. She's no longer interested in work, research, friends. There's nothing in her life that isn't tainted by the shadow of the lies her best friend told and kept telling, every day for four years. Lena doesn't know how any amount of screaming and crying is ever going to get them past that.

Across the room, Kara sighs. It might be the saddest sound Lena has ever heard.

“Should we keep doing this?” she asks after an interminable silence, voice rough with tears still building. Her eyes are still closed.

Lena manages, with exorbitant effort, to raise her drooping head. “What?”

“Is there a point to all this?” Kara asks quietly, hunched body sliding a little further down the glass. "The explanations, the fighting?”

Blue eyes blink open. The weight of the sadness in them is unbearable. Lena struggles to find it within herself to care.

“Lying to you about who I am is the single biggest mistake I have ever made, and if it will make even one single shred of difference I will apologise to you every day for as long as I live,” Kara says into the aching chasm between them. “But I can't keep doing this. Not if it won't change anything. I can't— I don't want to keep hurting you.”

An hour ago, Lena would have scoffed at a sentiment like that. Would have parried back with some piercingly dry comment about how the blonde should have thought about that before she decided to betray Lena's trust as soundly as she possibly could.

Now, though— now, she's just too tired.

“So, should we keep doing this?” Kara whispers, throat working. “Or— God, Lena. Should we just— should we give up?”

Green eyes meet blue, two shattered hearts haemorrhaging between them. “Is that what you want?”

“No.” Kara's voice is loud, fiercely determined in the face of Lena's hesitant whisper. “God, no. Never. I don't ever want to give up on you, Lena. I don't ever want to give you up.”

Kara straightens then, with a strength Lena cannot imagine mustering herself. Perks of being a superhero, she supposes. Perks of being Kryptonian. The thought stakes another shard of ice through her bleeding heart.

“But I know that I've spent four years calling the shots for both of us by keeping you in the dark,” Kara continues. “I've taken away your agency. I've taken away your choice. I won't do that again.”

She sucks in a deep breath, a little of Supergirl's regality seeping back into the defeated slump of her shoulders. “So, I'm doing what I should have done from the start. I'm being honest with you, and hoping that you'll be honest back. I'm asking what you want.”

Kara's fingers twist anxiously before her, bottom lip bleaching white beneath the nervous pressure of her teeth. “Do you think we should keep doing this? Or do you— fuck.” Her voice cracks, the tears brimming in her eyes once again breaking free. “Do you want to give up?”

Jesus Christ. Lena never knew that the prospect of doing the right thing could hurt so much.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she kneads her knuckles over her closed eyelids, digging in until white lights starburst across her vision. “Fuck, Kara.”

“I know,” the blonde whispers from across the room, brittle and broken. “I know. I'm sorry.”

Lena slows her assault on her own eyelids, pinching thumb and forefinger hard at the bridge of her nose instead. “I want to give up,” she mutters, and in the taut silence between them she hears the blonde gasp, watery and thick.

Lena blinks open her eyes to find Kara's face crumpling, every facet of her seeming to fold in on itself even as she visibly fights to keep herself upright.

Lena sighs, and hates Kara, and hates herself even more. “I want to, but— I can't.” She sucks in a ragged breath, hating the truth that's just fallen from her lips, hating the lies that had necessitated it. Hating everything and everyone and most of all, hating just how much she's hurting. “I can't give this up.”

The tiniest spark of hope flares to life in Kara's eyes. Lena hates that she notices, hates that she cares, hates that the sight eases the tight knot of devastation clawing at her ribcage just the tiniest bit.

She also knows that this was inevitable. She knows that, though she hates Kara, though she's nowhere close to forgiving her, though she has no idea how they can rebuild from here or even if she truly wants to try, a question like Kara's could only ever have one answer.

In this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

-

One year from now, Kara is going to reach across the table at Noonan's and take her hand. She's going to look deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice will barely rise above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And when she does, one year from now, Lena will also think back to this moment.

This moment, which is barely even a moment at all. It's more like a dream, warm and faded and fogged in darkness, seconds stolen when sleep should have long since claimed them.

Kara's nightmare had woken them both. In the month since they'd pulled her out of the Phantom Zone, she hadn't slept alone once. Often, she stays with Alex, curling into her sister's side the way she would when they were just kids after one too many late-night horror movies. Once, she stays with Nia, tucked up snug in a borrowed pair of puppy print pyjamas.

Mostly, she stays with Lena. It's natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, the way Kara will show up at her place after a Supergirl save or Lena will let herself into the blonde's apartment after a late night in the lab. They cook dinner and watch Celebrity Masterchef and brush their teeth elbow to elbow at the bathroom sink and when Kara is inevitably tugged screaming and sobbing from her night terrors, the way she presses her face to Lena's neck and her hand over Lena's heart is natural and unspoken and easy as breathing, too.

Kara's racing pulse has calmed a little, her grip on Lena's body beneath her losing some of its urgent desperation. After a long moment of Lena's hand stroking her hair, of gentle reassurances and lips pressed to her temple the blonde pulls back, just enough to rest her head on the pillow facing her.

In the dim light filtering in through the bedroom window Kara's pupils are blown, her face solemn. There's something in her heavy gaze that Lena can't identify; something weighted and potent that prickles goosebumps up the length of her spine.

"Feeling better?” she whispers into the inch of warm air between them, reaching out to tuck a sweat-matted curl reverently behind the blonde's ear.

Kara catches her retreating hand and holds tight, twining their fingers together on the narrow swathe of pillow between them. If either of them were to move so much as a millimetre, their clasped hands would press against their lips.

The blonde nods and sure enough, the soft heat of her mouth brushes the back of Lena's knuckles. She shivers.

Kara is still watching her, the intensity of her gaze causing Lena's heart to thud hard in her throat. She squeezes lightly at the fingers threaded through her own. “What?”

A pause, heavy and sweet as overripe fruit. Kara blinks once, slow. “You're my best friend.”

Lena swallows down a sudden swell of emotion. The blonde nudges closer and when she speaks, the wet seam of her lips catches on the angle of Lena's bent knuckles, painting her skin with the words.

“You're the most important person in the world to me,” Kara whispers, breaths skating fire-flashes across Lena's fingers, voice muffling out past the mouth pressed to her skin. “You know that, right?”

Lena's voice deserts her in the wake of the quiet words. She leans forward instead, presses her lips to Kara's fingertips where they rest against the back of her own hand. It's answer enough.

She hears Kara's breath catch, feels the disruption mirrored in her own chest. Both their mouths are pressed to the joined hands clasped between them. If they were to move their fingers down even just a fraction, there would be nothing separating their lips but a promise, a prayer.

Kara's eyelashes flutter in the semi-darkness. The tip of her nose brushes Lena's own. Neither one of them moves their hands.

They only gaze at one another a long moment, and Lena wonders if the blonde is memorising the planes of her face the way she's memorising Kara's. She could look at her forever, be happy here with her forever, and in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love.

For the first time, she wonders if she might not be the only one.

-

Right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking Lena's hand.

It's been three weeks since they'd taken down Lex for the last time. Three weeks since Kara had stormed into the Tower's med bay to cup Lena's bloody, bruised face in her hands; since she'd brushed her thumbs feather-light over Lena's split eyebrow and purpling jaw and growled don't you ever scare me like that again. Three weeks since she'd leaned in and pressed her lips to Lena's.

It's been two weeks and six days since Lena, confined to a gurney but utterly uncaring thanks to the warm Kryptonian curled against her side, had pressed her aching face to Kara's shoulder and first whispered that she loved her. Two weeks and six days since Kara had first said it back.

It's been two weeks and five and a half days since Nia had walked in on Lena in Kara's arms, lips pressed to her neck and hands wandering beneath her sweatshirt, and promptly shrieked the place down. Since their friends had exchanged pointed glances and relieved sighs and congratulated them on finally making it official, their expressions ranging from overjoyed to exasperated to plain exhausted.

It's been two weeks and four days of she and Kara dating; of morning kisses and shared showers and the perfect partner at game night and all of Lena's wildest dreams coming true.

It's been less than a minute since Kara had admitted, hushed and wondering, that she'd known she was in love with Lena ever since she'd found herself suddenly prepared to poison National City's entire water supply rather than let Lena fall. That she hadn't been able to fully it admit it to herself until she'd found herself suddenly prepared to alter the course of all of history in order to get Lena back.

And right now, Kara is reaching across the table at Noonan's and taking her hand. She's looking deep into Lena's eyes, biting her lip as her thumb rubs gentle circles into Lena's palm, and her voice barely rises above a whisper when she asks, “When did you know?”

And now that she has, Lena is sure of her answer.

The highlight reel of her relationship with Kara lays itself at Lena's feet, each precious memory between them stretching out like a roadmap of her growing affection, with every hard-won step leading her right to this moment.

And in this moment, Lena knows. She's in love with Kara. Really, she always has been.

[ninjathrowingstork]

Never Quite Free

Chapter One: Pushed (words: 2309)

Sierra Six|Court Gentry/F! OC. No warnings yet, just canon-typical violence

Like everything in his life for the past- too many years, really - it had started out as just another mission. They told him where to go, what to wear, and who to kill, and he obeyed orders. Every time, without fail.

Sometimes, though, things didn't exactly go to plan, and ended up a little more exciting than he'd have liked. (Still beats going back inside) the man known as Sierra Six noted, ducking around a corner in time for the wall where his head had been to explode into a spray of stone fragments. There were at least a half-dozen of them, he'd counted, and he'd already cut his way through maybe that many to reach his target. His intel hadn't been accurate, and while he'd eliminated his target, (the leader's brother, kingpin in his own ring running. . . something, the details had been vague) the goons were still coming after him. And now, civilians were in the way.

He ran.

There were shots ringing out from multiple points around the open park, and he ran, skidding, through the panicking crowds to the cover of a low concrete wall. The cover wasn't perfect, they'd circle around to find him, but he'd at least have a minute to catch a breath and reassess. And a minute was more than he'd need (there was still that annoying graze across his left tricep where one guy had gotten too lucky.)

Seven. It was almost definitely seven shooters after him now, and some were up on the rooftops around the park, and-

A blur of motion of a body sliding and tumbling behind the wall had him spinning in a crouch as he brought the automatic in his hand up to bear on-

It was a woman. A civilian, maybe early thirties, at the oldest, and unarmed, he assessed with barely a thought.

"Ow, fuck", her skirt had ridden up to show one knee and where the tights had ripped along with the skinned knee beneath. She noticed him and the gun in the next heartbeat. "OH. FUCK." 

Eyes widening, she recoiled in shock just as he lowered the muzzle off of her, glancing back out over the possible lines of fire. 

"Oh, sorry." (Just gotta keep her calm and alive until I can get her out of here) "You ok?" He gestured to his own chin with his free hand. "

"I-what?" Reaching up to her own chin, her fingertips came away red with  the blood dripping from her mouth. "Shit,  must have bit my lip. Ow." The woman glared up and through the low wall, in the direction of the shots. "Yeah, just broken skin, I'll manage."

(Good, staying calm and not trying to bolt from cover, I can still get her out of here.)  "Ok, just stay down, I've counted seven of them and-" a shot ricocheted off  the wall, sending dust flying and his companion in hiding pressing back into the corner further with a muffled yelp. Again, he scanned the angles of fire, watching  the flash of light off a scope for an instant that gave away the shooter's hideout. Too fast, couldn't get a clean shot on him now.

"Hey, uh, just catching up here," it was the woman again, She was staring up at him sideways with a slight smirk, the tremor in her voice and the blood she absently wiped from her fingers onto her skirt the only reflections of their situation. "Since they're the ones shooting here, I'm guessing you're the good guy in all this, right"

(The good guy?) He hadn't thought of himself necessarily as the good guy in a long time, just the one who killed the bad guys. "I- I think so?" Better not to start thinking too much about the moral side of the work he'd been given just now.

Her smirk turned into something more serious and considering, searching his face for. . . something. "Ok, guess I'll-" she broke off, focus moving to something over his shoulder. "On your seven." It came out as a rush of breath, only a jerk of her chin pointing in the direction, and he spun to see one of the men in tac gear sighting on them. He fired a second before the other man could get off a shot. (Good girl), she'd spotted the man and kept her head enough not to show she'd seen him, in time for him to get the shot off. (Probability I can get her out of here just went up.) The shot and his realization had happened within the space of two breaths, and he twisted back, crouching on the balls of his feet to see her staring back where the man had been. "You still ok?"

"I- um. Can't say I've gotten someone killed before."

Working with a civilian, he reminded himself. Her calm might just be shock. He raised his gun again to try to peer over the wall, ducking back again when another shot sent dust into the air. "Hey, no, you did good." Working with someone to watch his back was new. She shouldn't be here with him, but it'd kept them both alive.

She grinned a little at that, it was shaky but it was there. Then the grin melted and the focus was back, her chin jerking out again behind him "on your six!"

He spun back, firing at another man slowly creeping towards their position and why did the way she said his number sound so nice? Almost as soon as he'd dropped the second man, her cry, barely above a whisper, came again.

"Three o'clock!"

She was using the wall as their 12, he realized. Smart. He twisted again, pivoting to his left and firing past her to the flash of light on a balcony.

"On nine!"

Again he twisted, and again fired. Another figure dropped.

"Four o'clock, high!"

That one was on the roof, and slid down to fall to the street when he was dropped. Two more down, that left three including the one pinning them down, who'd ducked back into cover when he tried to get a sight on him over the wall. He glanced back at the woman, her eyes were somehow even wider and face as pale as the ash-blonde hair escaping from its tie.

"St- still ok," she gasped out.

"We've got three more left, you sure on that?"

One eyebrow quirked up slightly. "Do I have a choice, really?"

An interesting answer, and he told her so. "Normally," they both ducked again as another shot embedded itself in the wall. "Normally, someone like you would be trying to run away from the guy everyone's trying to kill"

"Nu-uh, I've got cover and I'm by the guy who's said he'll get me out of- " she broke off with another jerk of the chin, "seven again."

This time, he just twisted to the side and fired. "Two left, I had seven on me when I got here."

"Only seven?" Her grin was back.

Somehow, he felt a grin pulling at his lips also. "Only seven, yeah. You wanted more?"

She snorted a small laugh. Amazing that she could laugh in the middle of this. Then again, that she could laugh and stay calm in the middle of a shootout was literally the only thing he knew about her (and that the way she said his number sounded nice and she'd asked if he was the good guy and that little half-smile of hers was cute for someone being shot at.) "I get the sense you could handle more, somehow, but because I'm here you're hold- on four again."

Her chin pointed, and he swung the gun to follow her chin and fired. "One more."

"-Holding back for my sake. Is that the one pinning us down here?" Rolling her head up, she tried to peer over the wall, before he reached out and shoved her shoulder back down just as yet another bullet skimmed along the top of the concrete surface. He tried not to notice how warm her shoulder was under his palm.

"Stay down. Here's what you're going to do, on my count you- what are you doing?"

A heartbeat after he'd moved his hand from her shoulder back to cradle the gun, she'd started shimmying out of her jacket, staying low. "I've got an idea." Reaching out with one boot heel, she hooked a fallen tree branch and began to drag it closer, jerking to one side as a shot cracked into the edge of the pavement a foot from her leg, but a second later she had it and was hooking the top of the jacket on the end. "I'm gonna draw him out, ok?"

Only long years of training and work kept him from staring at her. (This damn woman.) For anyone in his world of covert ops; of spies and assassins, he'd have felt professional admiration for her creativity, but for this civilian. . .

Before that thought could go any farther, she'd swung the coat on the stick up, hoisting it like a flag with a hissed "now!"

The fabric jerked with an impact of the bullet tearing through the material and he caught the motion from the corner of his eye as he sighted on the gunman who'd broken cover long enough to take the shot that was his last. One squeeze of the trigger, and Six saw the body of his last pursuer collapse to the balcony below him. That was it. Somewhere in the distance there were sirens approaching.

A small, choked laugh drew his attention back to the woman crouching beside him. Her hair was plastered to her sweaty face in smoke-dark streaks, and she was holding up the jacket to stare at the single bullet hole piercing through from front to back. "Guess I'm gonna need a new coat." The slight tremor started creeping back into her voice.

"You should go, before the police get here. You don't need to be connected to this." He'd leave as soon as she was clear, and that would be it, he thought.

"Here," she'd dropped the coat in her lap and dug through a pocket to come up with a small white rectangle. "Here's my card, you can send me a new jacket as a thank-you. Burn it after memorizing it, ok?" She told him her size and her smirk almost drew another almost-smile from him. Instead, he wordlessly took and scanned the card and pocketed it as she rose to leave. The address was for a town several hours away. (Tori. It also said her name was Tori.)

"Hey," he'd stood, checking again on the bloody graze on his arm, but her call drew his attention back to where she stood, destroyed coat draped over one arm. "I didn't get your name."

His name? "Six, they call me Six." It had been a very long time since he'd used anything else.Or anyone had thought to ask.

For some reason that got another one of her quick laughs, but the smile this time was full and genuine (albeit a bit bloody from her bitten lip), and he was suddenly reminded just how long it'd been since anyone smiled like that at him. It'd been what, almost two years now?

"Number Six, like in the show?"

"What?"

"You know, The Prisoner? Cult show from the 60's? Who is number one, you're number six?"

He shook his head, "don't have much time for watching anything" which was a lie since he had the downtime, often, but it wasn't really his to spend.

"He's a spy who retires and gets isekai-ed to a resort in Wales, you'd love it"

(He gets what? )

The sirens were getting closer, and she glanced over one shoulder as she took a step back away from him. "I should go, at least before the adrenaline crash hits and I'm really a mess. But stop by sometime and we'll watch the show, it's just seventeen episodes so we can do that in a day."

"I- uh, that sounds . . . fun." It actually did.

She looked back at him with one last grin, then with a curious salute, raising her hand in the "ok" sign to her eye with a twitch of the wrist, she turned to go. "Ok Number Six, be seeing you!" Then she was gone, her trot turning into a run at the edge of the park before he lost sight of her.

He also ran. He ran in the opposite direction she'd taken. It had sounded nice, her invitation. Maybe in a different lifetime, the man he'd been before . . . everything, the man he could have been, would've accepted it and been free to go watch old spy shows. There was a debriefing waiting for him, though, then back to the safe house or hotel they'd keep him at, then the next mission, and the next. He'd accepted that as part of being Sierra. It's what Fitz had promised him, that he'd get to take out truly bad people and maybe make the world fractionally better and he'd kept that promise, but also that his time wasn't his own, he wasn't his own.

Still, it sure as hell beat the alternative.

.

.

.

Three weeks later, the woman, Tori, opened her door to answer a knock, to find a courier from a delivery service asking her to sign for a box. The sender was a vaguely titled export service. Inside the box was a hip-length jacket, similar in cut and fabric to the one she'd sacrificed in a wildly desperate move that day of chaos weeks before. The name on the label, though, nearly made her drop the coat in shock as how much more expensive the replacement coat was than her original outlet one had been. There was no note with it, she didn't need one. 

Chapter 2

[cafedanslanuit]

♡   —   tags/warnings: afab!reader, breakup sex, oral sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), a lot of tears— both sexy and sad, timeskip ofc

♡   —   a/n: my first long piece for tokyo revengers! and ofc my beloved draken had to be the first one <3

♡   —  masterlist

He shouldn’t have come.

That’s the first thing that comes to Draken’s mind when you pull away from his lips to take off your shirt. He’s already half-hard and his pants only get tighter at the sight of your bra right in front of him.

Less than ten minutes ago, he had been sitting on the same couch where he was lying now. Only you weren’t grinding your hips as you were now― your lower lip was trembling as you handed him one of his old sweaters you always used to wear.

He could have chosen to have this conversation any other place. You would have said yes to meeting at a café or strolling down the street. Yet he was the one that asked if he could come over and you were the one that agreed.

Your lips slid against his again, the kiss you shared rough, demanding, but mostly, needy. His skin burnt for you just as the first time he had you and he couldn’t help but bite your bottom lip, making a soft moan leave your lips. With his back on the couch and your hands slipping under his shirt, he could barely remember the reason he came to your place was to finally put an end to your tumultuous relationship.

Well, that and because he couldn’t bear not seeing you any longer.

You had seen this day coming long ago. You woke up one morning to the news of an assault on Draken’s motorcycle shop. No matter how many times you asked him, he never gave you any explanations, even if you were sure he was well aware of what had happened. Every time he got a call from his friends he would leave the room and talk in hushed whispers and he started coming up with more and more excuses to avoid spending time with you.

His gentle nature around you had turned harsh and cold with you ever since that day. Draken had remained silent when you asked him about his change of behaviour, and during one heated night where you had ended up yelling, asking if it was something you had done, he finally spoke, only to assure you you hadn’t done anything wrong.

In your search for answers, you reached out to his friends. But rather than that, what you found was even more questions than before. All of them got visibly uncomfortable when you approached them and it didn’t take much to understand they also knew what was happening but refused to talk about it. The only one who gave you a little more information was Chifuyu, during a late-night talk after his store had closed.

“Talk to him,” he advised, ordering the files from the day and avoiding your eyes.

“I tried, he won’t tell me what happened,” you sighed, resting your chin on your hand as you watched him work. “But this wasn’t a random attack, right? It was something personal. If it was random, then someone would have said so. But everyone just shut ups and gives me a pitying look.”

Chifuyu raises his eyes at you.

“Yeah, exactly that look”, you say, passing a hand through your hair.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, putting the files aside. “And not my place to talk to you about it. All I’m saying is everything Draken does is to protect you.”

“Yeah?” you huffed, a dry laugh leaving your lips. “Treating someone badly and pushing them away is a way to protect them?”

Chifuyu gave you a sad smile. “Sometimes it can be.”

Even if you knew Chifuyu did his best to keep loyal to his friend while also trying to dissipate your worries, it hadn’t worked. You were sure any day from now Draken would break it off with you. And when you got a call from him asking to come over after almost a week of not seeing you, you understood the time had come.

The next time Draken came to his senses, he had his face buried between your legs. His nose brushed against your clit as his tongue was buried deep within you. The whimpers you were making were music to his ears. He swore he could recognize his name in between your cries a couple of times, but tried not to think much about it. He didn’t want to come to terms with the fact it may be the last time you would call for him like this.

Your legs closed against the sides of his head as you threw your head back in pleasure. Draken put one hand on your inner thigh and forced your legs open, eliciting a sweet gasp from you. He pulled away, the sight of your soaked pussy making his head spin. Fuck, was this really going to be the last time he got to have you like this? Draken slid two fingers across your folds, gathering wetness and then using it to circle your clit gently. He felt your leg twitching under his big hand.

If this was going to be the last time, then he was going to give you something to remember him by.

Draken bent down again and started pressing open-mouthed kisses on your folds. A soft hum escaped your lips as he worked his way around your pussy, making sure there wasn’t a part of it that wasn’t covered by his eager lips. He purposely left your clit for last, his hot breath hovering over it. Those few seconds were enough for you to lift your head, looking down at the man you had just agreed to let go.

His dark eyes met yours, widening just the slightest bit as if he had been caught. He held your gaze for a couple of seconds before taking a long lick, from your entrance to your clit, where he sucked gently, your juices mixing with his saliva.

“You taste so good,” he muttered against your core, slurping like a starved man. His words sent a shock of pleasure between your thighs, making them close against Draken’s head. However, his hands were stronger and they kept you in your place, watching you helplessly wriggle underneath him.

“I love you,” you panted, your thoughts getting cloudy. As a reply, Draken pulled his face away and inserted two of his fingers inside you. Your walls clenched around them, a broken moan stuck on your throat.

The many years he had had you weren’t in vain, as he curved his digits just the right amount and hit that special spot in just a few tries. You threw your head back, hips rising and breath hitching, losing more and more control of your body with every thrust of his fingers. He bent down once more and let his tongue play freely with your clit, his lips circling and sucking just when you needed him to and the tip of his tongue making you see stars.

“Ken— fuck, fuck—,” you whimpered. You put a hand over the one that was holding your thigh open and squeezed it. “Stop, please— I can’t— I don’t— stop. ”

Immediately, Draken pulled away, his concerned face glistening with your arousal. He crawled up until his face was hovering over yours.

“Shit, sorry. You okay? What happened?” he asked in a whisper, inspecting your face as he tried to find a clue of your discomfort. You placed your hands on his cheeks, forcing him to look back into your eyes.

“No, it’s okay, I’m okay,” you reassured him, noticing his eyebrows relaxing a bit at your words. “I just— I don’t want to come— I mean, I do, I want— but with you inside. Please, I need you—”

Draken crashed his lips against yours, and you swallowed his moan when you shuffled your legs so he was resting between them, his bulge pressing against you. His shirt was already long forgotten on the floor and now he was fumbling with his pants as he rocked his hips against yours, the kiss getting more and more desperate with every second.

Once his pants joined his shirt, he fished his wallet from one of his pockets and took out a condom. Your chest rose up and down as you watched him put him on, a small warning inside your mind that this was the last time. Emotions were pouring out without you being able to control it, a knot forming on your throat and your heart clenching in pain. Draken hovered over you again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. his breath making you shiver as he slowly started pushing himself inside.

He left small kisses alongside your neck, trying to ease the pain of the stretch that he knew you were experiencing. In all the time you’d been together, he always managed to make your breath hitch every time he slid inside you. You clutched onto his broad shoulders, one of your hands removing his hairband and undoing his braid, letting his long, blonde hair flow free. You repeated his name like a prayer as you rocked your hips, trying to get used to his size.

You ran your fingers up his spine and threaded them with his hair, closing your fist around it around the base of his neck. Draken took it as a sign to start thrusting against you, making more moans leave your mouth and your hand pull his hair a little tighter. Both your legs circled his waist and you locked your ankles with each other, creating a new angle that made tears form in the corner of your eyes. It was too intense and even if your feelings always poured whenever you two were intimate, you could feel as if every fibre of your body was holding onto him, innocently hoping he wouldn’t leave after you were done.

Draken grunted against your neck, his hips picking up the pace and finding the spot his fingers were brushing against just moments ago. You cried out and tightened your legs around his waist, feeling him so deep that you thought you would be reaching your high quick enough. At this, you put your hand on his right shoulder, pushing him away. He turned his head, his nose brushing against your cheek and his hips slowing down.

“Hey,” he said, just a little out of breath. “Talk to me. What do you need?”

You grabbed both sides of his face, bringing him closer to you. The small resistance you felt as first disappeared as he let you manoeuvre him how you wanted. When his dark eyes were hovering over yours, his hips had already stopped, his eyebrow slightly raised as he looked down at you.

“If this— If this is the last time, I want to see you,” you said, your thumbs caressing his cheeks. His eyes widened at your words and you could feel him tense up. However, a moment later, he nodded and pressed a kiss against your lips as his hips resumed their movements.

For the first time, you were able to see Draken’s small expressions as he fucked you. How his lips were parted as he breathed through his mouth and how his eyes were darker than ever, fixed on your eyes. You had never noticed how his nose turned the loveliest shade of pink when he was fucking you so good. Your heart swole and once again you felt too much at the same time. You loved him, you loved him so much. Why couldn’t you make it work?

Draken took your legs and put them over his shoulders, the new position making you whimper. Soft pleas filled the living room and he rutted into you, each of his thrusts getting you closer and closer plus making your brain foggy. There was only Draken, only him, only your boyfriend Ken who was so wonderful and who had made you fall head over heels for him from the moment you had met him.

Your hands were still on each side of his face, your breath colliding against his as you whimpered. Draken started grunting, his hips snapping faster and harder against your core, setting all your body on fire. It was too much— every inch of you was yearning for the man on top of you, not feeling him close enough even if he was buried deep inside of you. Your hands lowered to his shoulders, nails digging on his pale skin. You wanted him, there wasn’t anything else in the world you wanted as bad as him and you knew as soon as this was over, the more and more pleasure you got from him, then the sooner he’d walk out the door.

Tears started prickling on the edge of your eyes and it wasn’t long until one of them rolled down your cheeks, your moans mixing with small sobs. Draken grabbed your jaw with his big palm, forcing him to lock your eyes with his just as you had before. You saw him moving his lips as if preparing himself to say something, but no words came out of his lips. You noticed concern in his features, yet he seemed distressed as he tried to find the right words.

“I love you,” you panted, feeling another tear fall from your cheek.

And that was when Draken knew.

He knew he had to leave you.

Nodding, he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you too,” he muttered, before picking up his pace.

After that, it wasn’t long before you were reaching your orgasms, clenching around your boyfriend and bringing him to the edge as well. He didn’t let go of the hold on your chin as you both climaxed, eyes locked on each other as you crumbled apart and breaths colliding between parted lips.

It took a moment for both of you to catch your breath. As your body started relaxing under Draken’s weight once more, the reminder of your previous conversation where he was putting an end to your relationship came back. You felt a know forming in your throat and by the sad look on Draken’s dark eyes, it was clear he was thinking of the same thing.

He pressed his lips against yours once more, but this time it was softer, gentler, as if it was the first time he was kissing you at all. It didn’t last more than five seconds but it was enough for your eyes to fill with tears again. Draken pulled himself away from you and turned his body as he started putting his clothes back on.

You saw him stretching to pick up the old sweater that you had returned to him a moment ago and picked it up before he could reach it. You put it over your body, covering yourself, but it wasn’t enough to make him look at you.

“Please, stay,” you mumbled. You noticed your lover’s arm tensing at your words, but he still started walking towards your door. “Ken.”

The way you whispered his name made his heart clench, his step faltering for a moment. He stood in front of the door, looking at the handle and gathering all the strength he had left.

“Just for tonight,” you insisted. “You can leave in the morning if you want, just… I want―”

“You know what happens if I stay,” he interrupted you. “If I stay, I’ll never leave again.”

“Would that be so bad?”

Draken finally turned around. You looked so small, covering yourself with his old sweater and a part of him was glad he was leaving something behind. The idea of you remembering him even a few years as you find the sweater on the back of one of your drawers brought peace to his heart. He just hoped this goodbye wouldn’t taint the memories you had created together the last couple of years.

“…I’m not losing you,” he sentenced under your confused gaze.

“Ken—”

Cutting our sentence short, Draken finally opened the door and left your apartment. In the silence that filled your living room, you could only listen to his muffled steps as he walked down the hallway.

You couldn’t understand why he was leaving.

But you knew you were never going to see him again.

[duxhess-kryzewan]

Can u write a fic where korkie catches obitine fighting?

- Accidental Eavesdropping-

Korkie Kryze didn’t like to pry.

Truly, he didn’t. He was raised with manners after all. Being a member of the noble Kryze house didn’t leave much room for him to act out of sorts. There was the academy to consider, and then of course the image of his aunt.

It was completely by accident that he stumbled across what he did. He merely was going for a stroll through the gardens to kill time. Being on break form the academy was nice, but he was beginning to grow a little restless being cooped up in the palace walls. Not that he was ungrateful to spend time there, he was more than aware his aunt did not have to extent that courtesy to him.

He really, really wasn’t trying to pry.

“I was hoping you weren’t going to find out at all, or if you did it would be from me and long after the fact. I truly didn’t think you would have been alerted, or come to the funeral.”

The voice was one he didn’t quite recognize yet it felt oddly familiar.

“You didn’t-“ The voice of his Aunt is sharp as she yells, “-You didn’t think I would have been told? You idiotic man. How could you even think…”

Her voice is a mixture of hot anger and heartbreak and Korkie has to restrain himself from unveiling his presence to yell at the mysterious stranger upsetting his aunt.

“I couldn’t tell anyone.” The man says, almost begging, “Please, Satine, I swear to you I would have let you know if I could have.”

“Would you?” Satine bites back, “Don’t tell me things that aren’t true, Ben. I know the truth as much as you do; we are not each other’s priority. That was part of the deal, wasn’t it? Part of the choices we made? Don’t tell me you would have told me. Don’t play me for such a fool.”

Ben. Korkie wracks his brain for any mention of that name before, but he comes up short. As far as he knew his Aunt nor anyone else in the palace had ever uttered the name in his presence.

He peaks around the corner of one of the trees, trying his best to catch sight of the pair. He can see the back of his Aunts gown and headdress, but can’t quite get a good enough angle to see who she was speaking with.

“I would have.” The man affirms, “Satine, had I been able, I swear I would have. The last thing I ever want it to cause you pain, but you have to understand that I couldn’t. It was forbidden.”

“Forbidden,” Satine mocks, “Just as attachments are forbidden? Then what, pray tell, are you even doing here then? Do we not fall into another faction of forbidden?”

There’s something about the phrasing that catches Korkies attention. Forbidden attachments? He had heard of that particular phrasing before. It was one of the core values of the Jedi Order.

Could his Aunt be arguing with a member of the Jedi, then?

“There were too many lives on the line Satine. Had my identity been discovered, or had it been made known you knew the truth, there is no telling the repercussions. If I could have spared you the pain of my death, I would have in a heartbeat, but I am not sorry for trying to keep people safe.”

Korkie feels like his head is spinning as he tries to piece together everything. The Jedi. Death. Attachments. None of it made a bit of sense and he couldn’t fathom just how his aunt was involved, if she even was at all.

“I mourned you,” Satine snaps, unabashedly crying at this point, “I thought you were dead. I thought I lost you. Your death ruined me, Obi-Wan.”

Korkie was moments away from revealing himself, set on relieving his aunt from the obvious turmoil the conversation was causing her, when he suddenly froze all together.

Ben may not be a name he was familiar with, but Obi-Wan certainly was.

“And I am sorry,” Obi-Wan says, voice somewhere between desperate and frustrated, “Satine please, you have to know that.”

“I know it, Obi-Wan.” Her voice is a bit darker now, almost boarding on hysterical and it unnerves Korkie, “But it doesn’t make a bit of difference, does it?”

They’re both quiet for a moment, and Korkie doesn’t know whether or not to remain frozen where he is or make a quick escape. He certainly knows this is beyond a private conversation and that he should not be listening.

“No, I suppose it doesn’t.”

The silence is deafening and Korkie wonders how his aunt and the esteemed Jedi master were able to hold themselves up under the weight of it all when he himself feels crushed by it.

“Attachments are forbidden.” Obi-Wan says, all trace of frustration gone from his voice. In place nothing but sorrow.

“I’m aware.”

“And yet, as you pointed out, I came here anyway.”

“Please Obi-Wan,” She sounded tired and Korkie couldn’t help but feel saddened for her, “I cannot keep this up much longer.”

Obi-Wan inhales deeply, “I have always prided myself on following orders and doing what is required of me. And yet you, Satine, have always been my greatest challenge. I am breaking the code by sheer virtue of coming here to offer you some sort of apology because I am unwavering attached to you and cannot bare to know you were — are — in pain. And I understand that a simple apology does not in anyway atone for anything, but it would be worse of me not to at least offer you that.”

“I hate you.”

Korkie feels shaken to his core because if there’s one thing he’s always known about his aunt it’s that she cared very deeply about her Jedi protector.

“No, you don’t.” Obi-Wan offers quietly.

He waits for a response from her, going so far as to creep a little closer to where they stood. He hopes the lush foliage is still providing him with enough cover his presence won’t be detected, because he really shouldn’t be listening at all.

“No, I don’t.” She finally relents.

Korkie, for reasons he’s unsure of himself, sighs in relief.

“I am sorry, Satine. I didn’t come here with the intention so spur an argument.”

“I’m aware,” She says, “Though we have always been very good at that. Arguing, that is.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, “Yes, Master Qui-Gon certainly had his hands full at times. We did seem to fight about everything it seemed.”

“And fell in love in the process.” Satine says softly.

Korkie knew that attachments were forbidden within the order. The Jedi code was somewhat known even to those who weren’t particularly interested in the order. And while he had gathered as much given the entirety of their argument, it was still a bit jarring to hear his aunt so openly express the depth of her relationship with the Jedi.

“Yes, that too.”

“I’m still furious with you,” Satine says, tone a bit sharper than moments before, “But there is no use spending the entirety of your visit at odds.”

“I would understand if you wanted to do so,” Obi-Wan says, “I’m deserving of it.”

“You are, but it won’t do my soul any good.”

Korkie decides that it’s time for him to slip back into the palace. As much as he wants to confront the Jedi master out of sheer love and loyalty to his aunt for how he hurt her, he knows it is not his place.

He just hopes she’ll be okay in the end.