#<- the first two one where made with that program

[little-infj-cafe]

I got inspired to write a poem--

This Poem Was Made By AI

(please note this poem was not, in fact, made by ai. I stayed up until 1:30 in the morning writing this)

Imagine a world where everyone could write.  There’d be no need to argue, no need to start a fight.  No need to stay up until all hours of night,  No need to squint at the paper and say, “This can’t be right.”

Imagine a world where you could spitball a book. It’s really quite easy, I promise, just look! You don’t need to worry about finding a unique hook, Just borrow this neat one from this author I took.

Imagine a world where you could make a series for tv. It’s quite simple and really stress-free! All you have to do is write a sentence, you see, And our Inkitt AI can turn it into an episode, two, or three!

A single bullet point can turn into a flourishing story.  There’s no need to draft, no need to worry.  All the “real” writers will run away and scurry. Compared to our stories, theirs looks like an unfinished painting, blurry.

Imagine a world where we took all the joy Out of writing for every girl and boy. It’s our writing they want, our writing to enjoy,  And our platforms are as enticing as a small nostalgic toy.

AI is better. This, people just know We’ll steal from all the “real” writers; just keep it on the down-low. Everyone will come to us, and our platforms will grow.  We’re practically as iconic and cool as uh… Odysseus and Calypso.

That was the first thing, but this better thing is second:  All the helpless writers to our platforms, we beckoned.  And here’s a little secret, it’s something we recon,  That we’ve turned our silly tools into a weapon.

Imagine a world where people for themselves don't think.  And creating a piece could be done in a blink; And they’ll use our tools more and more like the alcohol they’ll drink As their helpless brains and their skills of craft start to shrink.

On our words of wisdom and greatness, they’ll rely While subpar original works out of “writers’” hands we pry And use our cool AI programs to modify— And if they come after us, we’ll simply just deny.

Their brains will grow stupid, tired, and weary, And we’ll have the power to answer all their writing queries. We may do some things that might cause some to be leery,  But not to worry, we’ll still write your english essays and letters to mother deary.

Imagine a world where everyone could write.  With what we’re doing, everyone’s ideas can take flight. And with the way we’re going, we’ll be All Writers’ sole—blinding—light, And no one will be able to look at what we’re doing and say, “This isn’t right.”

Each week (or so), we'll highlight the relevant (and sometimes rage-inducing) news adjacent to writing and freedom of expression. This week:

Inkitt’s AI-powered fiction factory

Inkitt started in the mid-2010s as a cozy platform where anyone could share their writing. Fast forward twenty twenty-fuckkkkk, and like most startups, it’s pivoted hard into AI-fueled content production with the soul of an algorithm.

Pictured: Inkitt preparing human-generated work for an AI-powered flume ride to The Unknown.

Here’s how it works: Inkitt monitors reader engagement with tracking software, then picks popular stories to publish on its premium app, Galatea. From there, stories can get spun into sequels, spinoffs, or adapted for GalateaTV… often with minimal author involvement. Authors get an undisclosed cut of revenue, but for most, it’s a fraction of what they’d earn with a traditional publisher (let alone self-publishing).

“'They prey on new writers who have no idea what they’re doing,' said the writer of one popular Galatea series."

Many, many authors have side-eyed or outright decried the platform as inherently predatory for years, due to nebulous payout promises. And much of the concern centers on contracts that don’t require authors’ consent for editorial changes or AI-generated “additions” to the original text.

Now, Inkitt has gone full DiSrUpTiOn, leaning heavily on generative AI to ghostwrite, edit, generate audiobook narration, and design covers, under the banner of “democratizing storytelling.” (Bullshit AI? In my democratized storytelling platform? It’s more likely than you think.)

Pictured: Inkitt’s CEO looking at the most-read stories.

But Inkitt’s CEO doesn’t seem too concerned about what authors think: “His business model doesn’t need them.”

The company recently raised $37 million, with backers including former CEOs of Sony, Penguin, and HarperCollins, proving once again that publishing loves a disruptor… as long as it disrupts creatives, not capital. And more AI companies are mushrooming up to chase the same vision: “a vision of human-created art becoming the raw material for AI-powered, corporate-owned content-production machines—a scenario in which humans would play an ever-shrinking role.”

(Not to say we predicted this, but…)

Welcome to the creator-industrial complex.

Publishers to AI: Stop stealing our stuff (please?)

Major publishers—including The New York Times, The Washington Post, The Guardian, and Vox Media—have launched a "Support Responsible AI" campaign, urging the U.S. government to regulate AI's use of copyrighted content.

Like last month's campaigns by the Authors Guild and the UK's Society of Authors, there's a website where where you can (and should!) contact your representatives to say, “Hey, maybe stop letting billion-dollar tech giants strip-mine journalism.”

The campaign’s ads carry big mood slogans like “Stop AI Theft” and “AI Steals From You Too” and call for legislation that would force AI companies to pay for the content they train on and clearly label AI-generated content with attribution. This follows lobbying by OpenAI and Google to make it legal to scrape and train on copyrighted material without consent.

The publishers assert they are not explicitly anti-AI, but advocate for a “fair” system that respects intellectual property and supports journalism.

But… awkward, The Washington Post—now owned by Jeff Bezos—has reportedly already struck a deal with OpenAI to license and summarize its content. So, mixed signals.

Still, as the campaign reminds us: “Stealing is un-American.”

(Unless it’s profitable.)

#WarForever

We at Ellipsus love a good meme-turned-megaproject. Back in January, the-app-formerly-known-as-Twitter user @lolt64 tweeted a cryptic line about "the frozen wastes of europa,” the earliest reference to the never-ending war on Jupiter’s icy moon.

A slew of bleak dispatches from weary, doomed soldiers entrenched on Europa’s ice fields snowballed (iceberged?) into a sprawling saga, yes-and-ing with fan art, vignettes, and memes under the hashtag #WarForever.

It’s not quite X’s answer to Goncharov: It turns out WarForever is some flavor of viral marketing for a tabletop RPG zine. But the internet ran with it anyway, with NASA playing the Scorcese of the stars.

In a digital hellworld increasingly dominated by AI slopification, data harvesting, and “content at scale,” projects like WarForever are a blessed reminder that creativity—actual, human creativity—perseveres.

Even on a frozen moon. Even here.

Let us know if you find something other writers should know about, (or join our Discord and share it there!)

- The Ellipsus Team xo

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Technomancer

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Would someone like to explain to my three wives why the in the nine hells I was called in on my one day off?”

Chief Detective Fargra Mcuff looked around the bullpen at the gathered detectives and low level robotic magistrates running about. The magistrates were only programmed to deliver pressing dispatches or carry in suspects for interrogation, and the detectives were smart enough to avoid the Chief Detective when he was on the war path and quickly dispersed or made themselves scarce.

“Aster!” the chief shouted at the nearest detective that was too slow to vanish into the background. With no other avenue of escape they sighed and shuffled over to Fargra.

“Sorry, sir, but it seems we grabbed ourselves a big fish.”

“Explain.”

Aster motioned for the Chief to follow and the pair started navigating through the bullpen.

“Last night we had someone walk through a security checkpoint at the orbital dock.”

“Is that meant to surprise me?” Fargra grunted as he squeezed between two magistrate units. “Literally thousands of passengers pass through the docks daily.”

“No sir,” Aster continued, “I mean they literally walked through the security checkpoint.”

“I don’t follow.”

The pair stopped just outside of interrogation room B7. Aster ran his hand through his head tendrils as he gathered himself.

“They walked through the security checkpoint without going through any of the security scanners or restricted materials detectors.” He tapped on the door behind him leading into the room. “Security doors opened wide for this guy and he strode right through as if they owned the place. The only reason we have them is because there was a technician on site doing repair work who quickly alerted the rest of the dock about the breach.”

His interest piqued, Fargra nodded at the door and Aster opened it.

Interrogation room B7 was divided into two parts, a standard holding area where the subject was chained to a metal table and chair, and the observation area that overlooked the holding area via a one-way glass panel. The door the pair just entered through led straight into the observation area and Fargra got his first good look at the suspect.

He was surprised to say the least when the subject was wearing a bright blue hoodie and orange pants. The suspect was chained up facing the panel and Fargra could see that they were in fact human, which explained the outlandish attire.

“How did that walking atrocity of fashion walk through one of the most secure locations on the planet?” Fargra asked as he walked over to the window for a better look. “With a getup like that half the security cameras in that place should have marked them for a crime against style.”

Aster shrugged. “Here’s where it gets even crazier sir, they didn’t appear on any of the cameras.”

“What, like they knew where they were and walked around them?” Fargra asked.

“By eye witness accounts they walked straight down the main causeway like the rest of the crowd, but when reviewing the camera feeds for both the automated security and camera units they don’t appear at all.”

Aster leaned up against the panel of glass and joined the Chief observing the suspect. “Wherever they went it was like they just got erased from the picture and a blank space was plastered over it.”

With the mystery deepening the Chief realized why they had called him in. Someone who could so brazenly walk past their most advanced security systems without being seen was on par with a national security risk. Hell, there was no telling if they were acting alone or smuggling something or someone else along with them on to the planet which opened a whole new can of crumbrum problems.

“We got an ID on our mystery guest yet?”

“Aside from their species we got nothing on them.” Aster motioned over to a nearby table with a strange variety of items strewn across it.

“These were their possessions at the time of the arrest. No ID, galactic passport, not even a citizen registration chip embedded into their body.”

“And yet somehow they were able to board a trans-system flight.” Fargra finished for his detective as he examined the items. The mystery was now turning into his most perplexing with this new information.

Travel between systems was largely allowed by all species, but still heavily monitored and regulated. No one could leave their home system without some form of identification to resolve transportation disputes or cultural differences that might spark interplanetary disputes. Yet here was someone with nothing, which means that wherever they came from they had also bypassed security on that end as well.

He looked up from the belongings to look back at the human and saw that their mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear anything.

“Do we have audio for the room?”

Aster nodded. “It’s been playing and recording since they were brought in.”

He nodded at the suspect. “Then why can’t I hear what they’re saying?”

Aster turned to follow the Chief’s gaze and was surprised as well.

“Guess they got nothing to say out loud.”

Fargra watched the human silently mouthing away and a thought occurred to him.

“Have the station AI monitor the feed to the room and initialize the lip reading program, then have it transcribe everything they are mouthing.”

Aster nodded in agreement and went over to a nearby wall. He tapped a panel and a small keyboard appeared with which he entered in the new parameters for the room.

While that was going on Fargar took another look at the effects. His scaled hands sifted through a small bag removing nothing of notice. A dated magazine from an orbital shop, a packet of generic chewing candy, a tube of teeth cleaner; and then something that did catch his eye.

A golden watch; or at least what he thought was one. Physical time tracking constructs were a purely human instrument and he had never seen one before aside from pictures.

He flipped the small device in his hand and by accident hit a release latch. The front panel of the device popped open revealing the innards of the watch along with a strange delicately carved symbol; a large cogwheel with a lightning but crossing atop it.

The symbol meant nothing to him but pulled out his communicator to reach out to a contact that might know it.

“Fargar you handsome sack of shit, how are you?”

The formality of the insult made Aster stifle a snort as Fargar held his communicator closer.

“Doing well, though knowing what a sorry sack of flesh you are I won’t bother asking about your current standing.” Fargar retorted.

The voice laughed back. “So, what can your friendly human relations officer Samson do for you?”

“I’ve got a strange one for you.” Fargar began. “We just caught a human with no ID walking through a security checkpoint.”

He hefted the watch again. “The only identifying thing we got on them was a gold watch with a symbol of a cogwheel and a lightning bolt; does that ring any bells?”

“Can’t say I’ve heard of that one.” Samson replied. “It doesn’t match with the latest criminal identifiers we have on file; let me do a quick search.”

There was a pause while his human contact opened up a data search with the description he was given. Several minutes passed before Samson’s voice finally returned.

“Listen to me,” they spoke with an oddly serious tone, “I need you to be absolutely sure that the symbol you just told me is what you actually saw.”

“I’m looking at the damn thing right now.” Fargar replied confused as Aster returned to join him at the viewing window. “It’s carved into the inside of this gold watch that was on their person.”

A long pause separated the two as Fargar speaking with someone quietly on their end in a frantic hushed manner.

“Terran peace keeping forces have been requested and should be at your location within three hours.” Samson responded. “It is imperative that you keep that suspect under lock and key until they arrive. Sedate them if you have to but do not let them leave or interact with technology under any circumstances.”

“What’s this about?”

“I don’t have all the details but running that symbol alone just set off a high level security lockdown on my terminal followed by a direct call from Terran Internal Security.”

“TIS?”

Fargar had never interacted with the human security but had heard the rumors. They handled things quietly and internally without much fuss, and if they were up in arms about this mystery human they weren’t to be taken lightly.

“They’re called the “Technomancer”, and can access any tech they get their hands on.”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got them locked in an interrogation room under observation.”

“Good,” Samson sounded much calmer, “just keep them there without any interaction with technology.”

“I mean,” Aster spoke up, “we do have the AI monitoring them right now.”

“Why? Have they said anything?”

“No, but they have been mouthing something.” Fargar spoke up, shooting Aster a glare to be quiet.

Just then the wall panel began chiming and a data fee began displaying.

“In fact it just finished transcribing what they’ve been mouthing.”

He leaned over and quickly read the details, but none of it made sense.

“def login(): Authorization override while (flag-0)…”

Fargar kept reading it out loud but stopped after three more lines of gobblygook.

“It doesn’t make any-“

“SHUT THEM UP NOW!” Samson all but shouted into the communicator.

The pair of detectives turned back to the panel and saw the human suspect now looking directly at them before the lights went out. ----------------------------

“Greetings, new chief inspector.” The automate AI voice drone inside the holding area. “How may I assist you?”

“Reclassify all organic beings, excluding myself, inside this station as violent offenders.” The human spoke softly. “Detention parameters overruled for all magistrate units, lethal force authorized for continued preservation of peace.”

“Understood.” the AI’s voice chimed.

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

From outside the interrogation room Fargar could hear the sounds of screams. Aster drew their sidearm and quickly exited the room only to have a waiting Magistrate robot’s fist crash into their head.

Bits of bone and flesh showered the Chief Detective as Aster’s lifeless body collapsed to the floor as the machine entered the room. Fargar was faster on the draw and his weapon was in his hand before Aster’s body had even hit the ground.

Three electro rounds penetrated the robots body and the machine sparked violently before collapsing to the ground.

From outside the room Fargar could see the bright flashes of weapons fire as his detectives now fought for their lives against the previously peaceful Magistrate robots who now seemed hell-bent on eviscerating them.

It was code…

The final pieces came together as he let his weapon recharge.

The human had been reading out a sequence command as if they were typing it in at a terminal and when read by the AI unit gave them direct access to their systems when it finished. They had just taken control over the entire station and their pale ass was still chained to a table!

[ajaxsbeloved]

-: late to my lecture :-

1000 followers special 💕

feat. childe

genre. fluff and comedy

summary. hcs for college roommates to lovers because modern aus makes me way too happy for some reason

warnings. readers major is stated, extremely long like really really long, lots of swearing tbh (it’s college what do you expect), fourth wall break cause i’m he ha funny, reader and childe have established friend groups,

authors note. this has taken me like 4 years to finish but i’m so proud of it, part 2 is in the works but don’t expect it soon as yall know im slow asf

you and childe did not know each other before college nor did you intend to be roommates what do ever

in fact you both were quite upset upon finding out who you were rooming with, you had wanting to room with one of your best friends from highschool while childe wanted to room with one of HIS best friends from highschool

long story short you two were thrown together by accident while your best friends ended up rooming together on a different floor of the dorms

needless to say this was not going to end up well… unless it does this is a fanfiction of course lmao

you majored in architectural drafting/CAD technology (yikes i am so sorry for you) while childe surprisingly majored in child care service management

so with that being said it’s understandable how you two didn’t really have classes together and even if you did you guys hang out with completely different crowds

you hang out with a (in your opinion) much more relaxed crowd of kazuha, aether, venti, and xiao. childe on the other hand hangs out with a (in your opinion) much more rowdy crowd of diluc, kaeya, zhongli, and tohma

due to this reasoning you guys never really hang out nor do your friends, sure they all know of each other but they don’t interact or have events with each other

but back on track to childe! honestly you’re not sure how what or why but this man is literally always busy?? he’s pretty much never around and you don’t mind it too much, because you guys were thrown together unexpectedly there was an unwritten rule to just kinda avoid talking to each other if possible

meaning that you nor childe were really ever at the dorm and if you were the other wasn’t there 99.9% of the time, or if the other was there then you’d just isolate yourselves from each other

childe was typically off either partying, playing video games with the boys, swimming, or taking care of his little brother which you didn’t even know existed until one day you stumbled into the dorm to find little ol teucer eating cereal on your spot of the couch

at first you were very surprised, the frat boy had a younger brother? that he treated well? it was a bit odd but it made a little sense when you remembered that he majors in child care management

you on the other hand we’re either at cafés, going to the park with friends, doing arts and crafts, or working on your schoolwork

schoolwork was a bitch that’s for sure, architecture is NOT a fun major and you were sure cad programming was going to be the reason you pass out in public one day

due to this you were up extremely late on thursday night at 3 am sitting in the small table of the dining room with your laptop too bright and a cup of god knows what

thankfully it wasn’t too cold out so you could wear your shorts and t-shirt around with your cute fluffy soft slippers, childe however was no where to be seen but you didn’t really care to know about that

you yawned and practically pried your eyes open to continue working on the assignment given to you nearly sobbing at the pain of having to scale your sketch

tapping away at the keyboard you heard the soft click of the door open and your eyes flickered to see who had come in, though you should’ve already known but your mind was in a delirious state at this point in the late night

in walked childe with his oh so pretty soft fluffy hair messed up a bit and his white t-shirt sitting on his shoulders just right, stepped in and glanced at you before setting his bag down

“hey”

“hey, welcome home”

you didn’t really think at all of what you were saying, just greeting him quickly and getting back to work on your project

childe however didn’t move an inch, “welcome home”? he wasn’t sure why but hearing you say that put a smile on his face and he could swear that he was much more relaxed than before doing who knows what at such late times

“why are you up so late?”

“working on a project, why were YOU out so late?”

“was at the pool”

that would explain the ruffled hair and light smell of chlorine immuring from his tall figure, he went to the kitchen and grabbed himself a glass of water chugging it within seconds like a madman before heading off towards his bedroom

“goodnight”

“night childe”

you don’t remember much else from that night but you do remember waking up at 1 PM at the small dining room table with your laptop closed and paperwork neatly in front of you

your cup from the night before was in the sink and there was a note left on your laptop, the smell of childe’s cologne filling your nose as you came to the realization that his jacket was wrapped around your shoulders

“morning, i talked to aether and he said your classes today are cancelled so i thought i’d let you sleep in. i plugged your phone in for you by the way, it’s on the couch where you normally sit.”

the note was written in neat handwriting which signed “childe :)” at the bottom and you subconsciously let out a giggle upon reading it, who knew he could be so caring?

you went and got your phone from the couch, pulled in and at 100% you noticed that the charger was childe’s too

making a note to give him his stuff back you decided to be productive around the dorm today and cleaned up everywhere except his room

after cleaning and organizing the door looked fantastic so you got a bag and stuffed childe’s items in them, placing the bag in front of his bedroom door you wrote him a note back

“thank you for this morning, it was actually really sweet of you. i cleaned up while you were gone but i didn’t do anything in your room, here’s your stuff back by the way. thank you for letting me use it! i’m going to the bakery across town for a little bit, i don’t know if you’ll be back when i’m done but i’ll bring cake and you can have some :)”

and with that you left to go to the bakery, you decided to meet up with aether and venti when you got there and you told them all about your home event this morning to which venti teased you about and made “oooo” noises like a middle schooler

aether however chimed in about childe contacting you, he told you about how he didn’t expect a text from childe this morning asking about your class and apparently childe went through multiple people to get his number

you were astonished at his effort, he went through all that just to let you sleep in? he really didn’t need to and considering how often he wasn’t around it seemed he had a lot to do, besides he was up late too

your face flushed red upon hearing about his sweet actions you were swear venti would laugh at you about this for the next month but you couldn’t care less being so caught up in childe’s actions

he was too kind really considering that you guys barely knew each other and that all you did was stay up, he didn’t need to go through all that trouble just for you to sleep in

after a while you finally got back to the dorms, childe wasn’t there yet so you ate some of the cake a left a few slices in the fridge for him to eat

you headed to bed before he came home and when you awoke the next morning you found the fridge empty of the left over cake and a thank you note on the kitchen counter

things continued on like this for a few weeks, rarely seeing childe and just exchanging notes with him. it was nice though and you found yourself looked forward to the notes when you came home or woke up. every once and a while you two would leave things for each other like little trinkets or left over food, sometimes lending each other clothes too

you arrived home one day to find yet another stranger sitting on your couch, only this time he was definitely not childe’s sibling

the man currently sitting on your couch was small with short dark purple hair and the ugliest basketball shorts you’ve ever seen in your life

“hey, (y/n) right?”

“umm yeah that’s me?”

“where the fuck is that stupid ginger ed sheeran wannabe?”

you felt starstruck, just who was this guy and what was with this atrocious audacity???

“i… don’t know? why?”

“what the hell do you mean you don’t know? you’re his roommate aren’t you? god he’s such a fuckwad”

after making a call to childe you find out that short stacks was the best friend from highschool that childe was originally supposed to room with, apparently his name is scaramouche and now you feel more than bad for your best friend who’s currently rooming with him

anyways childe was at swim practice so scaramouche (for whatever unknown reason) dragged you along with him to go watch childe at practice

upon arriving at the massive indoor pool you spot childe and kaeya drying off on what you assume is a break

“oh (y/n) i didn’t think you’d be joining us”

childe said it with a surprised face, though he didn’t say it like it was a bad thing. if anything he seemed a bit… excited?

“ahh this is the notorious (y/n) i’ve heard of? a pleasure to meet you, the name’s kaeya”

kaeya introduced himself in a sultry manner even ending his sentence with a wink, childe elbowed him with a glare and you just chose to ignore it to the best of your ability…

“anyways, i’ll pay for you since you coming with is a pleasant surprise”

childe offered to pay but you were confused… pay for what? aren’t you just here to watch him practice

“pay?”

“oh did scaramouche not tell you? we’re going out for lunch!”

that little bitch boy didn’t even tell you they were getting lunch! you spared him a glance and he only scoffed in response but of course he was your ride here so you had no choice other than to go

“are you sure? if you don’t want to i’ll drive you back to the dorms”

he offered to drive you back but you could tell he was a little disappointed, thought you really weren’t sure why either way it didn’t matter. who were you to say no to free food?

you guys ended up having a great time and even staying out longer than intended, laughing your asses off and even taking funny pictures of yourself

childe drove you back to the dorms and the whole ride you guys were laughing and playing around like idiots, hanging out with him was a lot more fun than you had expected

eventually you began hanging out with childe’s friend group much more often, even mashing your friend groups together. who knew kazuha and tohma would get along so well huh?

this continued on for a good amount of time, just hanging out with them often and having a really good time. life was good!

though you couldn’t help but start noticing childe more often, you weren’t sure when the shift happened but you started seeing him to be much more attractive

a lot of little things about him were just so… hot

like the way he would pay attention to you when you spoke or how he would study at night with those thick rimmed black glasses on, god those glasses were so so attractive

he was more than good looking, the way his perfect soft hair framed his face after swim practice and the toned muscles down his arms were enough to make nearly everyone swoon over him

soon enough you too fell victim to his charms, he was just so effortless at it that you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at him with heart eyes

little did you know that childe was aware of this long ago, whenever the shift happened to you he noticed it

he noticed the way you’d stare at him much more than you should or how you would hold onto him for a little longer, the way your eyes would shine when you spoke to him or how you would pay more attention to him than anyone else in the room

however he didn’t just so happen to notice these things out of no where, he noticed it because he was paying an abnormal amount of attention to you

childe isn’t stupid, he knew from the moment he met you that he wanted you. you were gorgeous, funny, polite, and good with his little brother. what more could he ever want?

he had always found you attractive too, he subtly watched you quite often (not in a creepy way though)

he’d stare when you walked by in just a T-shirt and shorts, oh how he wishes it was his you were wearing

or when you would go swimming at the beach with him and his friends… let’s just say you didn’t see him much because he was in the bathroom

the things he did to get you to notice him weren’t on accident nono, he did all of it on purpose

when he’d graze his hand along your waist in public? or how about when he wears his glasses around the dorm despite not studying? perhaps when he walks into the kitchen for breakfast without a shirt on? yep, all entirely planned

it got to the point where he almost never had a shirt on around the dorm and it was driving you to insanity

“jesus childe, put a fucking shirt on man”

“why? too distracted? i know my abs are nice but don’t stare for too long”

he’d NEVER flirted like that before and he even sent a wink?! in absolute shock you bolted to your feet and ran over to him

getting on your tippy toes ahoy shoved your face in front of his and held a hand to his forehead, a look of confusion and worry spread across your face

“are you sick? what happened to my childe what did you do to him?”

with your face so close to his he felt like he was gonna explode, not to mention your pretty big glossy eyes and plump red rosy lips, and holy shit did you just called him YOUR childe? he feels like he could faint

without even thinking or answering you he pulled you by the hips and slammed his lips into yours, a groan leaving his mouth when you squeak in surprise

when he pulled away he realized what he had so before you could see him he spun around with his coffee mug and made a quick escape to his bedroom leaving you to stand in the kitchen with your face bright red and brain fried

days passed and the situation regarding your kiss with childe was completely ignored, he had avoided discussing it with you and you respected that despite wanting an answer to why he had kissed you to begin with

the situation was finally addressed one evening while you were alone at the dorm, you sat on the couch watching tv when you received a text from childe

“wanwna kiss yku”

“what? childe are you drunk”

“maydbe jsut a litel”

“more than a little, have diluc drive you home please”

“okkk but onylw to see yku 😵‍💫”

“yeah yeah just be safe”

you were flustered at his behavior, was drunk childe always such a fucking flirt? was he like that with everyone when he was drunk? you sighed and got ready for when childe would come home

after a little while he came tumbling through the door, unable to walk straight to made your way to him with a glass of water and some medicine

“here take this it’ll help with your hang over in the morning”

“waaaa you didn’t even say hi to me! it’s like you didn’t miss me at all :(“

he pouted at your “greeting” and didn’t take the things from in your hands

“sorry, welcome home childe”

“ahh much better! i’m so glad to see my favorite girlie, you’re too cute for your own good y’know that?”

he was hardly making sense slurring his words and giggling like a school girl, regardless his words made you flush and you pushed your hands toward him once again

“please just take the stuff childe…”

“fine fine but only because my asked so nicely babe”

BABE????? since when was he so straight forward? the childe you knew never so brazen, he usually had at least some semblance of shame

once he took the medicine you grabbed his wrist and started dragging him to your bedroom

“woahh i didn’t think we’d get so far so fast (y/n), not that i’m complaining”

you groaned at his sluggish yet embarrassing words, you led him to the bed and set him under the covers before turning off your night lamp

“go to sleep childe, i’ll have food for you in the morning. you’ll probably need it.”

before you could walk away he called out for you, looking back he was sat up in bed with arms held out

“come back and sleep with me, can’t sleep without my girlie to cuddle ehehe”

this idiot had the widest grin on his face and he made the stupid grabby motion with his hands signaling for you to get in bed

giving up you deciding to give in and just get in bed with him, the moment you layer yourself down his arms snaked your torso and his face snuggled into your neck

“hmm this is nice, we should do this more often”

“just go to sleep childe”

“whatever you say babe”

and with that you two of you somehow managed to fall asleep

upon waking up you found yourself to still be in childe’s embrace as he groaned, assessing the situation it would seem he’s just waking up

he let out a load gasp as he saw your body in between his arms, he backed away quickly and stared in silence as you sat up and yawned

“morning childe”

you had just woken up and yet you were so pretty, your hair was a mess in a cute way and your voice sent butterflies to invade childe’s stomach

“good… morning (y/n)?”

“are you feeling alright?”

“i guess, why wouldn’t i be?”

“because you were shitfaced drunk last night, flirting without shame and even insisted i slept with you”

“SLEPT WITH ME? I DIDNT DO ANYTHING DID I??”

he was panicked, realizing that he had so openly made such moves on you he was worried he’d lose any chance he’s ever had with you

“relax, you didn’t do anything weird. though you did say you wanted to kiss me, mind explaining yourself?”

poor guy couldn’t catch a break, he was practically tripping over his own feet and his head was all over the place

“well i just like your lips- i mean i like you, i mean i liked kissing you? like you know it was nice and all and you’re nice and you’re really pretty and i just thought maybe i should kiss you again but also maybe i shouldn’t and i wasn’t sure so-”

you cut him off by gently kissing him, letting out a hum when your lips made contact with his own and he closed his eyes finding himself melt into it

you pulled away and childe starred at you wide eyed, taking a moment to process what has just happened. you waited for him, unsure of how he would react

thankfully his lips stretched into a giant smile, he giggled a little feeling giddy and full of energy. i’m sorry giggled? what kind of man giggles when being kissed? oh he was so head over heels for you

you two sat there on the bed giggling like schoolgirls and giving each other light kisses, finally everything clicked and the two of you felt like you were truly at home

[wachinyeya]

Floreana Island, Ecuador–The observations Charles Darwin made during his 1835 visit to the Galápagos Islands give us a snapshot of what the archipelago looked like almost 200 years ago. He recorded the presence of a small, secretive bird on Floreana Island: the Galápagos Rail (Laterallus spilonota). After his visit, it was never seen on the island again—until now. 

Just two years ago, our team partnered with the Dirección del Parque Nacional Galápagos (DPNG), Galapagos Biosecurity Agency (ABG), Fundación Jocotoco, Durrell Wildlife Conservation Trust, and the Charles Darwin Foundation (CDF) to launch the large-scale Floreana Island Restoration Project. By removing invasive species that devastated native wildlife for generations, we’ve created a safe environment for species to recover and once again thrive. 

The Galápagos Rail, a land-bird endemic to the archipelago, has been severely impacted by invasive species. It dwells on the ground, where it is extremely vulnerable to predators and relies on dense, lush vegetation to hide in. But, despite its Near-Threatened conservation status, it is a resilient and resourceful little bird.  

Galápagos Rails, locally known as Pachays, have been quick to return to restored islands. In 2018, six years after we successfully removed invasive species from nearby Pinzón Island, the Rails were among the first locally-extinct animals to reappear—along with other species such as the Cactus Finch. 

It hasn’t been long since the Floreana Island Restoration Project began, but the Rails have already decided it’s time to show themselves on Floreana Island.  

During their most recent annual landbird monitoring expedition on the island, the CDF research team and DPNG rangers recorded the bird’s presence at three distinct sites. That’s enough to call them a real population. The birds were present away from human habitation and agriculture, in a grassland shaded by guava trees. Confirmed findings include six acoustic records, two visual sightings, and one photograph. And it isn’t a coincidence that they’re back now—the site has been monitored for the Galápagos Rail consistently since 2015, and this is the first year they’re back. 

“The rediscovery of the Galápagos Rail confirms what we’ve seen on islands worldwide—remove the invasive threats, and native species can recover in remarkable ways,” said Island Conservation’s Paula Castaño, our Conservation Impact Program Manager, Reintroduction and Risk Mitigation and resident expert in species reappearances—especially in the Galápagos. “This is an incredible win for Floreana, and fuels our excitement about what other native species might resurface as the island continues its journey toward ecological recovery.” 

[candyheartedchy]

I think what fascinates me about my ship between Ensign Coffey (my s/i) and Badgey is that both are on the same spectrum of personalities but on different levels at how they both act on feeling anger. Badgey was created to be a tutor to help people and be all smiles that being kicked and insulted made him snap. The moment he hurt his “father” triggered his rage, causing him to feed into it more and more and finding any excuse to go after Rutherford. Coffey is a yes-man in a way that she can’t bare to disappoint anyone and will bottle up all her frustrations and feelings to avoid hurting others. So one day at the verge of spiraling, she goes into the holodeck to scream out in rage, which sealed her fate for Badgey to show up.

I like to think he would sense a familiarity with her and first appears helpful in his usual programming, but the more the two interact he starts to let his anger slip here and there against his father, alerting Coffey a few times where she knows something is wrong and tries reaches out due to her own helpful nature of being a communications officer. So they both sort of dance around these similarities where Coffey doesn’t want to accept that she’s really angry from all the stress from her job while Badgey tries to persuade her to embrace this feeling like he has. But at the same time Badgey starts to become conflicted that someone doesn’t see him as a mistake/glitch since Coffey genuinely cares and listens to his advice, but also Coffey tries to convince him that being angry all the time will end up hurting him. So both are basically pulling each other back and forth in a tug a war type of way with a dash of “I can make him better” and “I can make her worse” that they find a weird comfort in each other. Coffey and Badgey both know she can be easily killed by him, but Badgey can’t help but melt at her tenderness behind close doors while Coffey slowly finds herself becoming more assertive around others because of him that whenever they both catch on these feelings, they pull away. But keep coming back because of the similarities.

[rjunhuang]

care ✰ george weasley, fred weasley

pairing: george weasley x reader, fred weasley x reader

summary: when banter and boredom leaves to love confessions, you're painfully forced to reject george for his own good. after all, he can't know that you love his twin brother just as much.

warnings: lowercase intended. implied fem reader. george centric. the twins & reader are best friends. bittersweet ending. love triangle? slightly infuriating to read. angst, hurt. dramatic corny dialouge. mentions of kissing.

note: i don't usually like to write this much but i had an epiphany. sorry if the writing progressively gets shittier. anyways i'm weasley twins girlie till i die — i could genuinely never pick a fave lol.

divider by enchanthings | comments & reblogs are appreciated! <3

george weasley was always a hell of a flirt. he could charm a brick wall if he wanted to. it was simply the way he was programmed — at least, you'd always thought his coquetries were mere acts of adding flavour to a conversation during all your years of knowing him. he wasn't actually trying to make advances, only just spicing up his own personality. it was all part of the weasley charisma. 

george thought he'd been making his feelings abundantly clear. your shared longing yet understanding looks. your quiet moments together where he'd keep a comforting arm wrapped around you. if it wasn't so obvious, why were there romantic speculations on the two of you? sure, in a school full of hormonal teenagers away from home, even the slightest interaction could brew gossip, but still! enough was enough, george had thought. if he had to be upfront about his love for you — he'd start now. 

"i feel like you've read that before. am i wrong, or is this your second go at it?" he made himself comfortable as he slumped down on the chair opposite to you in the castle's library. despite your intense focus on the thick book in your palms, he used his chin to give a nod towards it.

your eyes don't peel away from the page, running through the inked lines like they're fast paced lyrics in a karaoke booth. you can tell it's one of the ginger twins, judging by the voice and their tendency to disrupt your moments of peace. "third, actually." you corrected, despite your engrossed demeanour that made it look like it was your first read. 

he stifled a laugh, his eyes sparkling with genuine amusement. your rivetted state was a humourous sight for him. he leaned back in his chair, regarding you with a new respect. "fascinating." he drawled, pretending to look at the pages.

obviously, you saw through his little charade. the twins were good enough friends to care about your interests, but books with never their forte. too much engagement indicated they were up to no good. you looked up from your book to frown over at him. so it was george you were speaking to. "and why are you here?" the book, which you had been leaning against the edge of the table and your lap, was now placed on the table in front of you. "where's the other devil?" you were referring to fred, of course. 

george chuckled at your question, the sound soft and amused. "oh, don't worry. fred's off somewhere plotting some other mischief. we don't always have to be glued at the hip." he reached out, picking up a stray quill someone had carelessly left behind and idly twirled it between his fingers. "can't a bloke just come visit the library to enjoy the atmosphere?" he asked, his tone oozing innocence.

you raised an eyebrow suspiciously, watching his nonchalant manner. "right. hiding in plain sight from filch, is it? or scheming something new?" you countered, hoping to hit bullseye. "you're never here unless it's for a prank."

george feigned offence at your accusation, pressing a hand to his chest dramatically. "me? scheming? no, never." his expression remained pure, but his eyes betrayed a hint of mischief. he leaned on the desk with his elbows, his gaze fixed on you. "maybe i just came to enjoy the view. and i don't mean the dusty old books."

you snorted dryly, clearly unamused by his blatant flirtation. you looked back down onto your book, resuming your reading. though, it was hard to focus when george was across, staring like you were a moving portrait of the mona lisa. george noticed your attempt to refocus, but he wasn't ready to give up that easily. he enjoyed the challenge, your unresponsiveness only fueling his determination. 

"you know," he begun, twirling the quill in his fingers again, "books are all well and good, but they don't respond. they don't talk back." he tapped the quill against the table, the sound barely above a whisper.

"are you bored, george?" you asked, lifting your head back up again. your tone was sharp, playfully irritated by his interruptions.

george met your honed tone with a lazy grin, unfazed by your annoyance. he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest, all casual charm. "maybe a bit," he confessed, his tone unapologetic. "reading's not my thing. i prefer a bit more — action." his gaze flicked down your form, then back up to meet your eyes, not even trying to hide his interest anymore.

you took a moment to process his words. george and fred weren't new to flirting with you, but this, especially coming from the younger twin, was too upfront. you looked around them — if there were any spectators, you'd assume he's completing a dare. when you found no one, except a few academics preoccupied in their textbooks, you looked back at george. "are you on amortentia?" 

george's eyes widened at your question, genuinely surprised. "merlin's beard, no," he chuckled. "if i were on that love potion, i'd be confessing my 'undying' love for some broomstick or something." he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "no, i assure you, i'm completely in control of my own thoughts here. and what i'm thinking right now is, you're really bloody difficult."

"difficult?" you repeated, almost laughing. you smirked, "and why do you say that?"

george's smirk matched yours, though his eyes held a hint of something almost like curiosity. "well," he started, his tone still casual, "for one, most girls would've been swooning by now." he lifted a hand, counting off on his fingers. "you've been sarcastic, ignored me, insulted me, and now you're laughing at me. that's pretty difficult, wouldn't you say?"

"i'm sorry," you started, placing a hand on your chest and batting your eyelashes, "you want me to swoon? i didn't know that's what you wanted. you should've just said so." you ironically went on with a ditzy charade.

george couldn't help but laugh, his eyes lighting up with genuine mirth. "oh, there you go. that was a pretty good attempt." he gave an approving nod, enjoying this little back-and-forth. "but no, i don't actually need you to swoon. that's just what most girls do, you know?" his gaze lingered on you, the humour replaced with intensity. 

"well, fabian, i've grown susceptible to your antics having been stuck with you for several years now." 

george chuckled at your comment, the sound warm and familiar. "right. i'd forgotten i'm just old news to you at this point." he feigned a look of mock despair, clutching at his heart. "i've lost my charm! how will i ever recover?"

"so what?" you said, a smile on your lips. you've clearly lost interest in your book, keeping the conversation with george going. "why do you need me to fall for your serenading when you have everyone else?"

george's grin widened at question. "you mean the legions of admirers i have? well, they're easy. not much of a challenge."

you chuckled at his words. despite his exaggeration, the twins truly did have their fair share of fans. they were good looking and outgoing — how couldn't they? "or maybe," you started, leaning in, "i have the decency to remain platonic with my best friend."

"oh, the 'decency'? is that what it is?" he teased, leaning in as well. "here i was, thinking you just couldn't handle me," he joked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "but you're probably right. if i had the chance, though — i'd kiss you senseless."

your mouth fell at his words. how could he emphatically admit such a thing? you couldn't tell if this was a funny flirtation taken up a notch or an outright confession.

his smirk turned into a full-blown smile. "oh, are you speechless already? i'm not joking, you know. i might be a plonker, but i'm not lying. i'd love to kiss you senseless."

your expression glitched as you collect yourself together. you glanced down at your book again and grumbled, "if this is a declaration of love, it's an awful one."

"oh, come on. you know me. i'm no poet. i can't recite a fancy verse and make it sound beautiful." he rested his chin in his hand, his smile softening. "but i can be honest." he gaze remained locked on yours, his next words more serious. "this isn't a joke, and it's not a prank. i'm not good with words, but i'm trying, for you."

"you've always been good with words." you're quick to correct him with a soft smile.

george huffed at your comment, though the edge is gone from his expression. "not the right words, apparently."

"what are you trying to say, george?" you prodded, your eyebrows knitting together. you weren't oblivious, but you needed him to come forth since he'd already made it this far.

he paused then, gathering his thoughts. "what i'm trying to say is — i fancy you. i have for a while, probably longer than i even realized." he shrugged, his casual facade dropping for just a moment.

your eyes glimmered as you watched him say his truth. it's intimate and quiet and the total opposite of how you ever imagined he'd confess. the twins were always about grandeur. the thought of fred deepened your frown.

it was unfair. the twins were so different in your eyes. there was always this ongoing joke between the three of you — who was the most handsome twin? who was the favourite? a constant, lighthearted competition to gain that title. you'd always brush them off, saying you didn't choose favourites. and while you'd say it with a smile, the truth wasn't far fetched. truly and selfishly, you could never pick. falling in love with the both of them was a cruel price to pay for the trio's friendship. 

you knew that if you were to choose one, you'd greedily just continue to love the other. that was a burden you wouldn't dare to bring to the table. living in denial of any romantic feelings felt like the best solution.

you glanced away, avoiding george's eyes. "i — george, it's a little complicated on my end." you vaguely explained.

george noticed the shift in your expression, the way your gaze averted from his. he leaned back in his seat, a hint of understanding in his eyes. "care to enlighten me, or am i supposed to guess?" he was trying to keep it light, but there was a strain behind his words.

"it's—" you looked back at george with a flash of vulnerability, as if your eyes wanted to scream the truth out. i'm greed incarnate! i love you, george. and i know that i love fred just as much. "it's not that easy."

"i never said it was easy," he said softly. "but i'm asking you to try. to be honest." he paused, his next words said carefully. "is there — someone else?"

you'd always had a weakness to george. since they were young, george was the one you always found yourself opening up to. he was easy to talk to. there were several nights where he'd pleaded you to unbolt, helped you stop bottling up your own issues and insecurities. his question made you freeze and you prayed to merlin he didn't catch it. you bit down on your lip, your eyes downcast.

he knew you better than you though, he noticed every subtle movement, every change in your expression. he leaned in further, his voice a mere whisper, almost begging, "answer me, please." he couldn't deny to himself the twinge of pain in his heart if you were to say yes, but he needed to know the truth, the whole truth.

"george, i can't love you the way you want me to." you decided to say, using all your courage to look him in the face. your expression is sympathetic. you weren't denying your feelings but you certainly weren't accepting of them either. hesitantly, you reached out for his hand on the table, holding it tenderly as if to soften the blow.

george looked back at you, his expression a mixture of surprise and confusion. he felt your hand on his, your touch soft but cautious. "you — can't?" he repeated his voice strangely calm. "can't, or won't?" his gaze fell to your fingers on his hand. "there's a difference, you know."

"it won't change the outcome." you whispered out, tears building up in your eyes as you tilted your head to the side.

george let out a sigh, his shoulders drooping. his fingers tightened around yours, not wanting to let go yet. "so, you're telling me," his voice was thick with emotion, "that you do have feelings for me, but you're choosing to ignore them? i'm right here, trying to let you in. and you're saying it's pointless because you've made up your mind?"

your eyes flew shut, as if accepting your fate. of course, george caught on. he was smart and ever so emotionally intelligent. he knew what you were saying without you even saying it. your eyes opened up once again as you begun your beseeches. "please, just let us go back to how things were. it's easier that way for the both of us."

george looked at you, his expression a mix of frustration and pain. "how things were?" he repeated, a bitter laugh escaping him. "you want us to go back to being what? friends? because that's what we are, right? just — friends." his gaze locked onto yours, holding a hint of desperation. "you seriously think that's easier? act as though my feelings don't exist? as though i can just shove them back down and pretend everything's fine?"

you pulled your hand back, his reply leaving you anxious. he had all the right to be angry at your request. it would've been a lot simpler if you couldn't return the feelings and just outright reject him. but knowing that you did like him, but didn't want to, confused the hell out of him. regardless, it still hurt. you hated it as much as he did. he didn't know that you were only trying to be fair for his sake. "if you want some time, i'll give you that." you said instead, averting your gaze again.

george watched as you pulled your hand away, a pang of hurt in his chest. he ran a hand through his hair, frustration and hurt etched across his face. "time," he muttered, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "what good is time going to do? it's not going to change how i feel about you, and clearly, it's not going to change how you feel about me. so what, i'm just supposed to wait around, hoping you'll change your mind?"

"i'm not saying that." you hissed, your eyes snapping back to him, your own exasperation building up. you tried not to make a scene — they were in a library after all. "you can move on. i'm not asking you to pathetically stick around — i'm not cruel."

george let out a scoff, his anger mixing with disbelief at your words. "you're telling me to just move on, like it's simple as that? do you have any idea how hard that's going to be? i can't just switch off my feelings. it's not like flicking a bloody light switch." 

you ran a hand down your hair, tension building up from the situation. "i don't know what you want from me, but i certainly can't give you the relationship you need." you spat out honestly.

george looked at you with resignation. "i know you can't, alright? you've made that painfully clear." he ran a hand over his face, his expression tight with restrained emotion. "but you don't get to act like it's easy for me to accept that. to just move on and forget about my feelings for you. you don't get to decide that for me."

there's a moment where you quietly just processed his words. he had a point — this wasn't a situation which called for your perfectionism. feelings were messy, but oh so human and necessary. "i'm sorry." you admitted. your tone was soft again, anger no longer evident. "that wasn't my intention. i just— don't want to ruin things between us. you mean a lot to me, okay?" george looked at you, his own features softening as he heard your genuine remorse. "my stupidity on this whole thing isn't worth risking the bond we have. six years worth of friendship."

he let out a sigh, his vexation slowly cooling down. "i get that." he said, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. "and you're right. we have something good here. you're my best friend — one of my closest friends." he paused, his gaze still on you. "i don't want to lose that either."

you sent him a gentle smile in return. slowly, you got up from your chair, walking closer to his side of the table. "i care for you." when in reality, you wanted to say 'i love you'. your arms were wide open, offering a hug. he rose from his seat as well, accepting your affection. he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him tightly.

he buried his face into the crook of your neck, his breath warm as he muttered, "i care for you, too." there was a hint of longing in his voice; the undertone of 'more than care'.

[layket]

These art pieces were made in december of 2022/start of 2023 and still are one of my favorites

i think i never got to post them anywhere so just bc i really want to share some of my og art here they are

REBLOGS ARE BETTER THAN LIKES!!!!!

[bubaboos]

okay so... are we interested in "choose a song to get banned from figure skating vol. 3" poll for worlds?🧐

[foldingfittedsheets]

Mattresses, unbeknownst to many, are a lot like cars. Every year new ones roll out, they’re always tweaking and innovating and you’ll never find the same one you loved decades ago when buying a new one.

Where I sold mattresses had a three month return or exchange program for this reason. New beds take a while to break in, and they’re a big expense. Your body is used to the old one. So we made sure people were loving it. If a bed got returned we’d take it back, sanitize and clean it, then sell it again on clearance.

To sell these we always had to disclose what clearance meant to customers, and they had to sign that they knew what they were getting. (FYI, not every company is as… forthright about the used bed situation)

In clearance we had beds that were floor models, we had returns, and more rarely we had old models whose line had been discontinued. These clearance beds were always final sale, so a bed could only be sold twice.

Now, the manager at the store I was working at had realized a vital fact. Clearance beds in the warehouse didn’t sell, especially old models that salespeople weren’t familiar with. And even more especially in odd sizes, like twin extra longs. So he set up a split king on the showroom floor to exhibit clearance beds, pulling all those forgotten twin extra longs out onto the showroom.

Almost all of these were brand new discontinued models. Beds I’d never learned in training were exhumed to be displayed. The manufacturers had moved on to new lines and they’d been left behind. Why would he take such in interest in selling old stock, you might wonder? Because we made double commission on the sales margin of clearance beds, and if we’d had a bed long enough they dropped the cost in the system so it was a fucking cash cow to sell these. Even with huge discounts the commissions were wonderful so it was a win win.

When I got started I was jazzed about this program, I was so on board to sell weird old brand new beds and make a ton of money. I had a wonderful older couple come in, looking for a split king adjustable set. This was a white whale sale.

The current clearance models on the floor were a latex mattress that was brand new despite being of an age to start first grade, and a tempurpedic floor model. The couple laid down and it was like magic. They each loved the bed they’d laid down on. They wanted to buy the whole shebang.

I. Was. Thrilled. I told them about the clearance program and what that meant, and they weren’t bothered in the least. I wrote up the sale then dashed into the back, fizzing with excitement to tell my manager what I’d done.

“You sold the death bed?!” He asked in delight.

I pulled up short, my smile freezing in place. “What…?”

“Didn’t you check the notes?”

I hesitated for a long beat then slowly shook my head. You see, dear reader, all beds had a personal history. Every clearance bed had logs written up by the person who took the return, as well as warehouse crew after sanitizing. It helped us know what to expect when selling them. “Wasn’t it just a floor model? You said it was a floor model…”

He slowly shook his head. I checked the notes.

It turned out, it had been sold as a floor model. The first time. But the company had made an exception and taken it back as a return two months later. Why? Because it’s owner had passed away.

I stared at the computer in horror and my manager shrugged. “They signed the clearance form. Technically it was a floor model.”

“We know for a fact that a man died in that bed!”

“What they don’t know can’t haunt them,” he said philosophically.

The man came back a week later for more sheets, utterly delighted to tell me how well they were sleeping. I clamped my teeth down around the secret of the deathbed, choosing to let them love their new bed without the stigma. Only one person would be haunted by that deathbed, and it was me.

[bijoumikhawal]

Hurricane Helene Relief Funds

Brother Wolf Animal Rescue operates out of Asheville, which has been hit aggressively by storm and flood damage

The Asheville Survival Program is reaching out. They appear to actually be the ones who use the Cashapp $Streets1de, and they just got put with Appalachian Med for convenience.

Beloved Asheville is reaching out. www.PayPal.me/belovedasheville and venmo.com/beloved-asheville

Homeward Bound helps the homeless in the Asheville/Buncombe area

Theres a fund for smaller rural communities around Asheville. It's close to its goal, but I really wish they'd set it higher considering what people are gonna need. Someone make sure they surpass it!

Charlotte NC is reaching out. Charlotte Mutual Aid: Helene Disaster Relief. CashApp: MutualAid704. Venmo: MutualAid704. Open Collective: Helene.cltfnb.com

Olive Branch Ministry is reaching out from West NC

Josh Griffith is fundraising for his efforts to deliver food in WNC

Breathitt County in Kentucky is fundraising to help NC through the Rousseau Volunteer Fire Department, as well as asking for physical supply donations. Their paypal is jrousseauvfd, put "for NC flood". Jaxon Flower shop in Jackson KY will also take physical donations. They aren't looking for clothes, moreso cleaning supplies and other items.

North Durham Mutual Aid is reaching out.

Eastern Kentucky Mutual Aid is also reaching out for funds. There looks like there might be two orgs with similar names, but if so both are helping. There's PayPal.me/ekymutualaid, Venmo - @ekymutualaid, or Cashapp - $ekymutualaid. There's also a Facebook group where individuals are posting requests for aid.

There's a fund for relief in Erwin, Tennessee

Helbender Harm Reduction is collecting physical supplies in Knoxville alongside First Aid Collective Knoxille, whose Cashapp/Venmo is: $firstaidcollectknox. If you're nearby they're looking for clothes, blankets, shelf stable food, rain gear, flashlights, and batteries, which is what most other groups asking for supplies are looking at too.

The TriCities Mutual Aid group is mostly asking for volunteers and supplies in the Tennessee/Virginia area. However, they may shift to donations, and you can reach out to them to see if they would be welcome either way.

Food Not Bombs Tallahassee has a cashapp: $fnbtally2022. They and Mutual Aid Athens are also boosting any community calls for funds, labor, or supplies in various states on their Instagram pages

Taylor County FL is reaching out. Paypal: Mskatonic138@gmail.com and Venmo @Mskatonic138

The Footprint project's Florida team is asking for people to support their response by texting HELENE to 44-321

Since I don't know if the post I made late last night will get traction I'll reiterate that Mutual Aid Disaster Relief is a trusted org. You can send funds at the linked site, or via Paypal: MutualAidDisasterRelief@gmail.com Or Venmo: @MutualAidDisasterRelief

Appalachian Med is another trusted org I shared last night. They have Venmo: @AppMedSolid. Put Flood Support in the description

Animal Disaster Relief Coalition is helping people make sure their animals are fed.

A list of Mutual Aid groups can be found here

A friend of mine, Vyn, is asking for help since he'll be out of power for around a week in Southeast GA

Other physical supplies people will be looking for in flood impacted areas include:

bottled water, potentially water filters

personal hygiene items: wipes, camping showers, tampons/pads/other menstrual products, handsanitizer, mosquito spray, laundry detergent, washboards, toilet paper, diapers, and especially any products safe for sensitive skin

medications- ibuprofen, monistat and other meds for yeast infections, cold and cough meds, any diabetic meds that can be safely shared, etc

individually wrapped low or no prep food items, baby formula, and Gatorade

duffel bags, backpacks, heavy duty storage totes and trash bags, 5 gallon buckets, coolers

Fans, dehumidifiers, moisture sensors, generators, gas and gas cans, solar charging items and battery banks, first aid kits

chainsaws, crowbars, hammers, air filters, respirators, 2×4 planks, bleach, roofing nails, heavy duty gloves, and potentially waders.

and board games or other non electric activities for children

Double check if you can before you donate these items to make sure whatever local drive you're headed to wants them and can distribute the more specialized ones where they're needed

And please! Add any funds you know of, especially for South Carolina and North Georgia since I wasn't seeing many funds for those areas! I know South Carolina is in desperate need and there's definitely parts of North Georgia in need too. Atlanta saw some bad flooding so keep an eye for them too!

[bluemoonbun]

Reader is implied to like feminine things, though gender identity is kept ambiguous.

Damian was a good brother. That’s what he always told himself. He was a good brother, a good son. He was cold, rude, and erudite, but he was able and willing to help anyone who needed it.

When he arrived at Wayne manor, Bruce told him the general run down of why you were to be avoided when it came to anything vigilante related. You were still pure, a year younger than Damian but without any of the pain. The only one in the Wayne manor that could have a shot at becoming a normal person. Damian envied that, but kept it to himself. His anger often boiled to the top, drops of green venom dripping from his mouth when you tried to annoy him into spending time with you.

Your complaints of him ignoring you was scalding water on his already raw nerves. Why would you complain about not being the center of attention for five damn seconds? He would trade anything for the life you had. A life where you could lay around after school and never worry about a rogue bullet lodging itself in your arm, or a poisonous plant releasing psychedelic spores into an open wound.

You could and would never join the Robins. You were weak; it was in your blood. Always sickly, always the pacifist. You wouldn't survive a day in his life. And you weren't living his life; you were living his dream.

But apparently the effort the family was putting in wasn’t enough.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed that the manor felt… off about two weeks before the fight with Joker. He couldn’t trace it for the life of him at first. When he realized by the second week that he hadn’t spoken to you in days, or really seen you around the manor at all, he wrote off the worms writhing in his stomach. You must’ve been busy with a class assignment and had little time to annoy him with your demands of time together.

After the fight, however, he was a war of a thousand emotions. How dare you leave them? Why would you turn away an easy life fat on nepotism for a group of murderers, con men, the dredges of Gotham’s society?

Were you truly that desperate to be acknowledged that you’d turn your back on the family who did everything for you? He hopes you’re happy there, since you were clearly so upset at not being given attention.

Over time, however, things start to change. A few days after Jason made a full recovery, Damian looked at one of the drones Tim managed to get a chunk of code from. It took a lot of trial and error, and the development of an entirely new program to grab some of the code before it bricked itself, and enough all nighters and energy drinks that any doctor would faint, but it was managed. The code was dense, optimized to work with the least bloat possible, well tagged variables, and even a handful of comments in the code.

//Buy Bane those Boston Donuts from the donut shop on 5th //Why does this code need to be here so it doesn’t auto brick itself. What is in the code protecting it from the wrath of God //Louie likes Texas barbecue ribs. Possible treat? //DO NOT FEED THEM WHOLE RIBS. COOKED BONES BAD. //SINCE WHEN WAS THIS VARIABLE A STRING??? IT WAS AN INT 5 LINES AGO //Help the hopeless lesbians get together. //Would Harley and Ivy dating make Harley my mom or Ivy my big sister? Both???

His eyes skimmed the retrieved comments, laughing at a few. It seems that Bane, Poison Ivy, and Harley Quinn were the most common subjects of the notes, though a few mentioning the Iceberg lounge asking what non-alchoholic drink you’d like added, or Riddler offering you another puzzle to keep your mind active. Even Joker was mentioned, though it seemed mostly transactional.

It was strange seeing you in this light. You seemed to have a lot of spice in you, but a heart made of gold. You were definitely surprised whenever one othe villains offered to take you on some trip to amusement parks, regular parks, even just willingly watching anime with you. It was odd to see. Surely someone at the house did those things with you? He didn’t but he was extremely busy with school and vigilantism. Jason was legally dead, so surely he had all the time in the world.

“How was I supposed to relate to them? They’re what, 12 and into shit like that one with the cat looking dog thing and the robot girl. I have shit to do. Y’know, managing Crime Alley?”

Well, Dick had come over to hang out plenty of times. Surely he’d spent at least a few hours with you every now and then? “I have an entire team and criminals to manage of in another city, Damian. I don’t have as much time as you think to do whatever it was with them they’d wanted to do”

Maybe Tim? “I have college and stuff, Damian. And I don’t have the energy to put into hanging around them. I’d probably just be sleeping most of the time.

Bruce? “I have to manage you, Gotham, and the Justice League, Damian. I barely have time for myself.”

… Alfred? “I tried, Master Damian. However I’m constantly pulled thin between so many tasks. Besides, all you have is school most days, and you’ve had summer vacations and weekends. Shouldn’t you’ve had plenty of time to spend with your younger sibling?”

… He did have the most time outside of vigilantism. And it took him a week to realize you were missing.

You had to realize that they were under extreme stress though, right?He couldn’t spend all his free time with you. He had his own friends to hang out with. How were you two even supposed to relate?

One day at dinner, the thoughts were thrashing in his head, slamming against soft tissue and tearing through brain matter. He aimlessly poked at the food on his plate.

“You alright, replacement?” Jason asked, pausing in his extremely rare dinners with everyone else. Alfred had promised him a tray of fudge to take home this time around, and nobody made fudge quite as good as he did.

“… They were gone for two weeks.”

Everyone stopped eating as he continued.

“Two weeks. Two full weeks before they showed up at that fight. Did anyone here even know? I only noticed after a week and assumed they were just holed up in their room with a class assignment or something.” He was rambling. Everyone was quiet and looking at each other. How did it manage to slip past everyone? They were detectives, for Christ’s sake.

They were your family.

—

Dinner ended with guilt wrapping around their throats and pulling.

Eventually, all of them found themselves in your room. It had been emptied, but showed no signs of struggle. All the small items, the comforter, and your clothes were gone. But what was taken left something behind. Copies of photos of you winning state level competitions, letters requesting your attendance at seminars, photos of gold medals and blue ribbons spread across the floor. Most damning of all was the most recent photo. A certificate by some big time tech company being handed to you. Edward Nashton stood behind you, a firm, reassuring hand on your shoulder.

When had this happened? They never remembered hearing of something like this. A news clipping on the back told them it was maybe a week before you left.

“The Wayne prodigy stated that their family had more important things to see to than such an occasion. I can’t imagine something more important that either of my kids being recognized by a multi-million dollar tech company! I remember postponing an anniversary with my husband to celebrate our child placing second in the science fair. But I guess that’s just the Waynes for you!”

That’s just the Waynes to you.

But it’s ok. He can make it better. He can be a good big brother. He can spend time watching anime with you and decorating your room with lace and fairy lights and go makeup shopping with you. You just need to come home. Now.

---------------- Taglist! Ask to be added!

@jjsmeowthie , @jsprien213 , @ladyrosemone

[peachesofteal]

Raspberry Girl Previous + masterlist + AO3 Simon Riley/female reader CW: 18+ daddy kink, sickfic, SFW, requested.

Mara is surprised to see him. "Hey Captain Riley."

He nods. “She in the back?” The knit between her eyebrows is quizzical, and she shakes her head.

“What? No… she went home. Hours ago. Said she didn’t feel well.” He doesn’t bother to school his expression into neutrality, and she turns sheepish, like somehow she’s the one in trouble now. “I told her to call you. She was nearly falling asleep back there. Almost face planted in the batter of these cookies.” She points to an artfully arranged tower of chocolate chip cookies, their little placard labeling them as ‘brown butter’. What that means, he’s not sure. 

“How long ago did she leave?” He had no idea you were sick. Worse, you didn’t say anything. You lied by omission, sending your usual morning text messages, your before lunch check in with zero mention of feeling unwell. 

He’s not angry with you, because he understands you. This is uneven footing, new territory, a lot to learn for his little fawn. You’re finding your way in this new life, and he has plenty of time.

 A learning experience, that’s all this is. 

“Like… an hour ago? Maybe two?” A frown tugs his lips towards his chin. 

“Her car is still in the lot.” 

“Oh yeah… she walked.” Walked? You walked? 

Your ass is going to be sore for a week. 

There’s a queue forming behind him, so he steps back, gives her a parting glance before turning to leave. “Thanks Mara.” 

“Tell her I hope she feels better!” 

You live on the fourth floor. The elevator in your building is busted, along with the front door’s lock, and there are no cameras, no security, nothing stopping anyone from walking inside. 

Just his baby in a fourth floor apartment with a measly deadbolt and chain. 

You’ll be so much happier at home with him.

It takes three tries for you to come to the door, and when you find him on the other side, your expression splits in two, one side saturated with relief, the other, buzzing with nerves, but somehow still half asleep. 

“H-hi.” You croak, sweating and shivering, standing there in only a t-shirt. 

Miserable. You look miserable. 

“Sweet girl,” he breathes, stepping inside, immediately placing the back of his hand to your forehead, trailing down your chin to find your pulse fluttering beneath your jaw. It’s elevated, and you’re burning up, tears gathering on your waterline, threatening to fall.

"D-daddy," you hiccup, trembling, reaching for him just as he pulls you into his chest with a palm against your neck, rubbing circles at your nape as he takes a quick look around. He’s never been inside your apartment before, though he’s been tempted multiple times, made the trip to your building often, ensuring you’re home safe, watching the comings and goings of others who live here, looking for any red flags or reasons for immediate concern. He’s inspected empty units, tested the standard locks, checked for mold and mildew. It’s adequate, but your own flat is too cramped, and he knows you feel boxed in. 

"I'm here baby, I'm here. Let me look at you." He tips your chin up and moves into your line of sight, glassy, glazed eyes tracking him the whole way. "Have you seen a doctor?”

“No,” you sniffle, immediately planting your face back into his sternum, “’s just a cold.” 

“You don’t get a fever with a cold sweetheart. Have you taken anything?” He doesn't panic. It's not in his programming, not a part of his reality but seeing you like this, in distress, suffering, is starting to rewire long dormant standards.

“Don’t have a fever.” There’s a short hallway across the living room, two doors on either end, one he assumes is your bedroom, and he starts moving that way, keeping you tucked against him. “I took some naproxen.” You’re floating along with his direction without a single peep, barely recognizing where you are when he sits you down on the edge of your bed. 

First things first. He has to get you out of these clothes and into something dry. “This has to come off baby girl, it’s wet.” 

“Wet?” You’re barely holding yourself up, and he probably only has a few minutes before you’re out. 

“Your body is trying to regulate it's temperature, so you've been sweating.” He finds pajamas in the top drawer of your dresser, lips rolling into a smile as he unfurls the t-shirt. “Gremlins?” You throw him a squinty glare. 

“It’s a good movie.” He brushes his lips across your forehead, tasting the slick of salt before pulling away and tapping your shoulders. 

“Arms up.” You oblige without question, the trust that sometimes gets lost in this newfound dance shining through brilliantly. His hands brush against your ribs, your belly as he slides them beneath the hem of your shirt and tries not to wince at the scorching temperature of your skin. “Good girl. Don’t want you going back to sleep all sweaty do we?” He quickly pats the sheets, relieved to find them dry. 

“No daddy.” Such a sweet girl. You roll instinctively, burrowing in the mound of things in your bed, knees curling up towards your belly. There are at least three different colored fuzzy blankets in your bed, six pillows, and a stuffed cat of some kind, something about it vaguely familiar but difficult to place. A crumpled notebook with loopy handwriting and small drawings adorning the pages is wedged beneath your hip, and there’s a kindle sitting on the other side along with an empty water bottle. The frame itself has a shelf at the head of the bed, and it’s lined with stuff… a small lamp, a ceramic cupcake, a collection of seashells, chapstick, lotion, an empty mug, a glowing mushroom, along with two pairs of glasses and a few candles. It’s clear this is your space, where you’re safe and comfortable, a nest of your own making, a place just for you, and it’s fitting, all of it. Each little piece is perfect just like you. 

He lets you sleep while he cleans and refills your water bottle, finds the naproxen and your towels, pulling a washcloth out so he can run it under cold water for your head. You definitely have a fever, but if you can break it on your own there’s no reason to take you to a doctor. Time will tell, but if it gets worse, you’ll have to go immediately. 

Tally marks for today’s transgressions sit quietly on a slate in the back of his mind for far later, satisfying realization settling in against his soul. You’ve earned a spanking, and stricter rules. 

It’s a fine line. He doesn’t punish for the sake of punishing, there’s nothing good in it for him, or you, but he will punish you for things like this, things that put you in harms way, things like not telling him you’re sick and in need of help. Things like fucking walking ten blocks home. He’ll punish you for stepping outside a boundary, or failing to follow a rule, all of it a double edged sword, one he wields delicately, because often, punishments come with their own rewards, whether they be emotional or physical.

You rouse a bit when he comes back, making little sounds as he props you up to take more medicine, dabs the cold washcloth around your face, cooling you down and wiping some of the stale sweat away. He smooths a palm over your forehead. “We’re going to have a long talk about rules when you’re feeling better.” 

“Mmkay.” You press your nose into his neck. “Are you going to lay with me?” He kisses your temple. 

“In a little bit, I have some work to take care of. Close your eyes for now.” You nuzzle down into the mattress against his thigh and he can’t resist placing his hand atop your head, holding you there, your cheek bleeding heat through his pants, warm, wet breath building a damp spot. 

“But you’ll be here?” You mumble it, and like you’re afraid the answer will be no, you wrap an arm around the width of his thigh. He chuckles. 

“I’ll be right here.” 

[girlatmirror]

does he know? jjk

‘she told you she’s celibate, she told me i could nail her shit’. in which your ex comes back to town, but you are in a new relationship.

ex bf! jungkook x reader

warnings: (kinda??) cheating, there’s some angsty themes (but not rlly idk), mentions of alcohol consumption, yn is a little mean sometimes (but she’s so real), yn is the president of #ihatemybf nation, unprotected, penetrative sex (be safe), ass eating (yup, jk is a munch thru n thru), idk what else

___

Jungkook and your brother, Zane, were always attached at the hip as you grew up in the same neighborhood. Your house was across from the Jeons' house, and ever since you could remember, you had a crush on Jungkook. Jungkook, the boy who stole your heart the moment he came over to play soccer with your brother and accidentally kicked the ball against your head at the tender age of 10, then apologized with a warm hug. You were eight when that happened, but you knew everything. You knew you wanted to marry that boy, and you knew what you felt was real. What you did not know was that the same boy would steal your heart years later and take it with him to Singapore, leaving you stranded.

Your love story started when you began attending college, the same one that Jungkook attended; surprisingly, it wasn’t the same as Zane’s. To Jungkook, that meant he could make a move on you without the awkwardness of your brother and your parents around. After years of waiting for the right time, Jungkook took the chance when Zane told him you were unsure about where to apply to major in psychology. Of course, he recommended that you apply to his school, which, thankfully, had an amazing psychology program. You took his advice and started attending the same university.

Jungkook became your bodyguard, even though he was a computer science major in his junior year, guiding you everywhere and protecting you from any harm, basically never leaving your side. At first, he claimed it was an oath to protect his buddy’s little sister, but at one point, he finally gathered the courage to profess his love for you and asked you out; of course, you agreed, and that’s where your love story began. That’s where a year filled with love, princess treatment, and pampering started. Your relationship remained strong even after he graduated; you continued going on dates, making time for each other daily, and being completely and utterly in love.

Until he received an offer to become a CFO of a large Microsoft company in Singapore, he accepted the offer despite your objections.

___

(a year and a half ago)

“Jungkook, baby, I’m here!” you shouted as you entered his upscale apartment with your spare key, which he had given you the moment he bought the apartment. “Sorry, I’m a little early; I was bored and by myself.”

Jungkook was taking a shower, smiling as his heart warmed at the sound of your voice. “That’s okay, baby. Come join me.”

“No, I already showered before I came here, but you enjoy!” you exclaimed with a giggle, looking for something to occupy yourself until he got out of the shower.

His bedroom was spacious and very neat; Jungkook was a clean person, a quality you cherished about him a lot.

You were bored, trying to find something to entertain yourself with until he got out of the shower when you found something that made your heart race.

On the nightstand, under a book he was currently reading, were two plane tickets. You quickly grabbed one and thoroughly read what was written on it.

* Name: Jungkook Jeon

* Date of Flight: January 15, 2021

* Flight Number: SQ 25

* Airline: Singapore Airlines

* Departure:

* Airport: John F. Kennedy International Airport (JFK), New York, USA

* Time: 10:00 AM (EST)

* Arrival:

* Airport: Singapore Changi Airport (SIN), Singapore

* Time: January 16, 2021, 5:00 PM (SGT)

Class: Business

January 15 was just three weeks away. Jungkook hadn’t said a word about his trip to you. He mentioned the business opportunity he received in Singapore once, but you quickly shut down any further talk about it, completely against the idea of him leaving. He hadn’t talked about it since.

Your heart stopped for a millisecond, shock taking over your body. With shaky hands, you quickly grabbed the other ticket; it was the same flight but for a different passenger.

Your name was written on it.

Just as you tried to compose yourself, you heard a click from the bathroom door; Jungkook had finished his shower. You quickly put the tickets back where you found them. He entered the bedroom with a big smile, a towel hugging his lower body, strong arms and defined abs on display.

“Hey, gorgeous,” he leaned over your frozen body and planted a kiss on your lips before noticing the tenseness in your posture. “Hey…what’s wrong, my angel?”

“What’s wrong?” You let out a humorless laugh. “What’s wrong??”

Jungkook stood in front of you, confused and nervous, still half-naked in just a towel.

You grabbed the tickets and faced him. The color drained from his face.

“Baby, I was gonna tell you about it,” he tried to explain, but your harsh expression didn’t soften.

“When? The day you’re supposed to leave?” you said sarcastically. “Oh wait, I’m sorry, the day we are supposed to leave?”

“Yn…” the voice you usually loved suddenly angered you.

“No! Just no! How could you do that?! I told you, I don’t want this!!” Angry tears started forming in your eyes. “You can’t just make a huge decision like this without telling me!”

“I know it wasn’t a good move, baby, but this is a huge opportunity for me; you have to understand,” he tried to touch your waist, but you pushed his hands away.

“You’re joking, right?” you exclaimed, your hand in your hair as you chaotically walked around with the plane tickets in your hand before stopping. “It’s not like I don’t understand; I do! But I don’t understand how you can just decide something so big for both of us and assume I’m going to go along with it!!”

The tension between you and him could be cut with a knife, your words throwing flames of anger at him.

“Yn, if you would just listen to me for a second,” Jungkook’s voice was steady, but there was a hint of desperation. “I want you to come with me; you can continue your studies there, and we’ll get married. We can come back for every holiday and every vacation I get; it’s gonna be good. We’ll be fine.”

“And you haven’t once stopped to think about what I want? If I want to leave everything behind and move with you to Singapore, only to come back on HOLIDAYS?? Jungkook, my family is here; damn it, your whole family is here. Did you not think this through?” you yelled at him, pushing your fingers against his chest. “And what’s wrong with your current job? It pays well; it’s here! There’s nothing wrong with it.”

“I just graduated from college last year! Do you know how often I could get an opportunity like this? Probably never, and let’s be honest, nobody’s getting any younger, so I’m going to take this job!” he exclaimed, but then his voice softened again. “I can provide for us with this position, Yn; I’m going to be a millionaire my first year. This is what I dreamed of ever since I started college: to get a good job and be set for life, not just for myself, but for my future wife as well, for you.”

“Well, I guess your future wife’s a very lucky woman then, but I’m sorry, Jungkook,” you took a deep breath, tears still brimming in your eyes. “It’s not going to be me.”

Jungkook got on his knees, his head touching your leg as he begged. “Don’t say that, Yn, please don’t.”

“I’m sorry; I just cannot do this. Not right now.” You left the bedroom hastily, Jungkook immediately following you, grabbing your arm. “Let me go, please.”

“No! I’m not going to let you go!” he snapped. “You can’t just give up on us this easily, Yn. We have one fight, and you’re ready to leave? What the fuck!?”

“I’m sorry; I don’t even think this is a fight! This is you disrespecting me, my freedom, my opinion, and stepping all over my life like it’s yours to control!” you argued, cheeks flushed from overwhelming anger. “I am not your property! You can’t just control things in my life like you’re in charge of it, okay?! I won’t go to Singapore with you. Goodbye.”

As you moved to the door, he stepped in front of you, his body towering over yours. “You didn’t even think about it, Yn. Singapore is a great place; if you transfer to a school there, you’ll still get a very good education. The quality of life is amazing; the house I bought for us is huge. You’ll have enough space for yourself, and there’s even a library, baby; you’ve always wanted a library in your house. I found you a school with an amazing psychology program near our house and my work; you don’t need to think about money at all; I’ll pay for everything. I’ll get you whatever you want, baby; just come with me.”

“Our house??” You asked in disbelief. “Did you just completely lose it? You didn’t ask me if I want to come with you, and you already bought me a ticket and a house?”

It was evident that Jungkook’s patience was wearing thin as he jabbed his cheek with his tongue. “I’m sorry that I want to move forward with our relationship, Yn. I thought we talked about this: we want to get married, get a house together… have kids. What’s suddenly so wrong with that?”

“You’re right; we did talk about these things, but for later and for here! After I graduate, not when you suddenly decide you’re ready, Jungkook,” you explained, your voice a little less harsh than before. “A relationship means working together as a team. It doesn’t mean you get to make life-altering decisions behind my back.”

“So, what does this mean now?” he inquired, his heart pumping with fear.

“I don’t know; I don’t know,” you fidgeted with your hair intensely, eyes shut, clearly unsure of how to proceed. “I just really don’t want to see you right now.”

And that was the last time you saw Jungkook. You didn’t attend the farewell party your brother threw for him, nor did you say goodbye on the day he left. You successfully fought all the urges to reply to his messages or call him back, which led to an empty feeling in your heart.

You were not ready to forgive him.

At one point, you unfollowed him on all social media, muted his number, and refused to look at the pictures and messages he sent you from Singapore; you simply couldn’t.

Deciding to focus solely on college, a little over a year after Jungkook left, you graduated with honors. During the time you learned to navigate life without the love of it, you also learned to be happy within it. You cut off any thread that led you back to the feelings you had for Jungkook.

Eventually, you started living without the aching emptiness in your heart again, yet there was always something missing. You always feared you knew what – or who – it was.

___

You didn’t really know how to describe your current state.

Now 23, you had graduated college, had a steady job, and were in a relationship that was going well. From the outside, it seemed your life was perfect; there was nothing more you could possibly wish for.

You were content with where you were, but there was always something missing. Something indescribable that you subconsciously searched for.

Work was your way of distracting yourself from feeling like that, avoiding confronting your feelings at all costs, which was ironic, considering you studied psychology.

You were working on a report on your day off when Eric, your boyfriend of eight months, called your phone. You couldn’t help but sigh, yet you picked up reluctantly. “Hey.”

“Hi, baby! How is my superstar doing today?” Eric’s cheery voice spoke. “I miss you, and I thought since it’s your day off, we could go get bagels and coffee. I’ll pick you right up!”

Bagels and coffee... you were sick of getting bagels and coffee with Eric. You couldn’t remember the last time he planned something new or exciting for you.

“I’m sorry, Eric, I can’t,” you said in a distant voice. “I’m working on a report, and I have to finish this one... but we could do this another time, right? I mean, there’s always bagels and coffee.”

Eric felt uneasy with the idea that you felt so comfortable not seeing him for weeks and not even checking up on him; he was always the one to call you. If it were up to you, he wouldn’t know where you were half the time.

“Everything okay, babe?” Eric asked. “You want me to come over, cook you something? Give you a massage? Help you with your research?”

‘No, god, no,’ a voice in your subconscious mind said.

“No, it’s fine,” you reassured him, still focusing on the MacBook in front of you instead of your boyfriend. “We’ll just see each other sometime this week, alright? I’ll let you know when I’m free.”

This conversation summed up your relationship with Eric.

He was a sweet, respectful guy who worshipped the ground you walked on, seemingly always a step ahead of you in the relationship. He was already talking about your future together while you were unsure of spending a full weekend with him alone.

It freaked you out. You had only been in one relationship before, but with Jungkook, everything seemed to fall into place: both completely and utterly in love with each other, (almost) always on the same page, never wanting to leave each other’s sides, no subconscious voices in your mind or feelings in your gut telling you something was wrong; just pure excitement and joy.

You told yourself it was you growing up, becoming a ‘real adult,’ but the more you told yourself that, the more you recognized it was a lie.

At least your relationship with Eric gave you one thing you were looking for: peace.

___

Jungkook was back in town after exactly one year and seven months.

It was a small town; people talked and gossiped about everything and everyone, but that’s not how you should have found out about it, given that your brother was the one who picked him up from the airport.

It irritated you that your brother thought you were too fragile to let you know that his best friend, your ex, was coming back to town.

He didn’t know exactly what happened between you and Jungkook; neither of you went into the details of your breakup. He only knew how much love there was between you and that you weren’t willing to talk about Jungkook or hear his name during the initial months after the breakup.

He assumed it was a bad one.

You decided to call him just to see if he would mention anything about Jungkook being back.

“Hey, sis, how’s it going?” your brother answered after a few rings.

“Hi, Zane,” you bit back any snappiness. “I’m doing well. Where are you?”

He hesitated for a few moments, then you heard his footsteps, obviously walking away from whatever scene he was in before. “Just out with some friends…”

You loved how much of a bad liar your brother was.

“Who?” your curiosity was palpable.

“Damn, why do you care so much?”

“I don’t know, Zane; maybe because I heard from some girls at the nail salon that you picked Jungkook up from the airport two days ago,” you said, dumbfounded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

He sighed into the phone, tsk’ing lightly. “I’m sorry, Yn; I just didn’t know how you were gonna react, you know?”

“Oh my god, I am not a baby! I can handle it,” you declared. “So what if Jungkook is back? What am I gonna do now? It literally changes nothing about my life. You could throw him a party and invite Bella Hadid for all I care.”

Truthfully, Jungkook being back in your orbit did mean something to you. Your first love was back where he belonged after long months without this place seeing him; it almost made you emotional to imagine him back in his childhood home, back in his first apartment after graduation, and back with your brother playing basketball in the yard and…

“Actually, I am,” your brother hesitantly revealed.

“You’re throwing him a party and inviting Bella Hadid??” You only realized how ridiculous that sentence sounded after it came out of your mouth.

“No, just throwing him a welcome back party,” he chuckled a little. “You can come if you want! But only if you want; like, don’t feel pressured to be there. If you don’t come, I’ll totally understand–”

“I’ll be there!” you interrupted your brother’s rambling, who was nervous because he knew what you turned into when you were mad. “And Eric will also be there.”

“Eric?” Confused, he asked, as if he didn’t remember where he heard that name before. “Oh, yeah, your new boyfriend. Yeah, sure, take him with you.”

Even though Zane truly felt it wasn’t a good idea for your current boyfriend and Jungkook to be in the same room, he was inclined to agree with you.

You were going to attend Jungkook’s welcome back party with Eric, and you were going to look absolutely beautiful.

---

After visiting every boutique in New York with your girlfriends to find the perfect dress for your brother’s party, you finally found it and called Eric last minute to inform him that he would be your plus one for this party.

The dress you picked out was a gorgeous red number with a flattering off-the-shoulder cut and delicate lace accents, striking the perfect balance between sexy and classy, accentuating your curvy silhouette; you aimed to impress.

Eric wasn’t aware that Jungkook was your ex; he only knew that the party was for your brother’s best friend who had returned from overseas. He didn’t care whose party it was; he just thanked God that you finally called him and let him see you.

Your girlfriends knew you were indulging in self-destructive behavior by going to a party solely for your ex-boyfriend after not seeing him for almost two years, but they also knew nothing they would say could stop you, and they seemed to think you deserved closure. All of them suspected that you were still hung up on Jungkook, but none dared to speak of it until you decided to, which you hadn’t.

As you arrived at the bar your brother rented, hand in hand with Eric, his friend Marcus was the first to greet you with a big grin, evidently already too drunk for his own good.

“Hey, Marcus, you know where Zane is?” you asked, only to receive a drunkenly slurred ‘nah, but probably in the back somewhere’ as an answer.

While you walked into the place, you couldn’t help but silently praise your brother’s dedication; the venue looked good, nicely decorated with a huge sign that said ‘Welcome Back, Jungkook’ on it.

The crowd was enormous, making you almost trip in your high heels, but thankfully, you caught yourself on Eric’s arm.

“This will be the first time I meet your brother. I can’t wait!” Somehow through the loud noise, Eric still managed to be audible. “It’s about time, you know? I mean, you’ve met my entire family; I was wondering when I’d get to meet yours.”

“Yeah,” you sent a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes his way and walked forward, until you finally saw a glimpse of Zane, seemingly engaged in an animated conversation. “He’s there!”

With gathered confidence, you gripped Eric’s hand and walked over to Zane; even though your eyes didn’t see him yet, you knew that if Zane was there, Jungkook couldn’t be far.

“Zane!” you called out to grab his attention, but the music was too loud and he was too engaged in the conversation to hear you, so you approached him closer, gripping Eric’s hand like your life depended on it.

When Zane finally saw you, he waved at you, excitedly signaling you to come closer, so you did. But there was no sign of Jungkook yet.

“Yn!!” he shouted, having indulged in some drinks himself. “Hey! Come here; let me get you a drink.”

He didn’t even spare Eric a glance before turning around, but thankfully, you gave him a subtle nod in Eric’s direction, which he immediately picked up. “Hey, man, I’m Zane, Yn’s brother. You must be Eric. How’re you doing?”

Zane gave him a friendly smile and offered him a hand, which Eric immediately shook. He was giddy to say the least, just as he opened his mouth, a deep voice from behind you interrupted him before he could speak. “Ey, Zane, there’s no fucking pizza left! It’s my damn party, and I didn’t even get a piece of pizza!”

Jungkook’s playful voice halted you for an instant. Your back was still turned to him, but as he approached the three of you, he slowly recognized who stood in front of him.

Now, he stood next to your brother, paralyzed for a second before he let his eyes wander down your face, then your entire body; a shimmer of desire and longing that could not be overlooked formed. He studied your familiar body, every curve that was once only his to touch, to explore, and the eyes that looked back at him with an innocence he could not resist.

His attention flickered to Eric for a second before fully turning to you again, with darkened eyes and flared nostrils; you were sure from his expression that Zane told him you were in a relationship now.

Your eyes wandered just the same, spotting new tattoos and much bigger biceps; he looked disgustingly handsome. He was bigger, and his presence seemed even more powerful than before he left. His hair had grown a few inches, but what always stayed the same were his eyes that never stopped looking at you the same way.

There was an awkward silence that even Eric detected before Jungkook spoke up. “Yn… it’s good to see you. You look beautiful, of course.”

There was something deep about the way he said those simple words; it was evident there was a lot more behind them.

And there was so much you wanted to say too, but all you could muster was, “It’s nice to see you too.”

You felt Eric’s and Zane’s gazes swinging from you to Jungkook while you two were lost in each other’s eyes; Eric was confused, trying to figure out what was going on, while Zane was amused yet cautious of what would happen if he left you two to it, with your boyfriend by your side.

“So, I think we should all get something to drink,” Zane was the one to break the silence before patting Jungkook on the shoulder. “C’mon, man; I’ll get you that pizza.”

They moved along, leaving you and Eric alone for a moment.

“So, do you know that Jungkook guy?” Eric carefully asked, not wanting to push you.

“He’s my brother’s best friend; of course I know him,” you answered a little snappily. “And he used to be our neighbor.”

Eric simply nodded, his grip on your shoulder tightening a bit before you slipped out of it, saying, “I’m gonna get a drink too.”

But you actually left to catch a breath of fresh air on the balcony. You felt someone following you, but convinced yourself it was paranoia until you felt the warmth of a larger body lurking behind you. You turned around and saw Jungkook looking at you with an indescribable expression.

“Please tell me that’s your new gay best friend,” he started, now standing next to you, hands on the balcony railing.

“What?” You turned your face to look at him, a sigh escaping your lips.

You were pretending that his presence didn’t affect you, pretending that you were even slightly annoyed he followed you, but you knew you wanted him to and you were glad he did.

“The guy you came with,” he clarified, a waiting gleam in his eyes.

You knew he knew that Eric was your boyfriend; he was just acting oblivious to get you to feel bad and to start a conversation about how Eric wasn’t ‘the right one for you.’ He might have been gone for over a year, but you knew Jungkook. He was predictable to you.

“No... he’s my boyfriend,” you clarified with a huff. “And what’s it to you anyway?”

He put his hand up in defense, a small smirk forming on his pretty face. “Nothing, nothing... just didn’t think he was your type is all.”

Despite not having figured out your feelings for Eric, Jungkook’s words pushed you to defend him.

“What do you mean ‘not my type’? Eric is a sweet guy, the sweetest actually, and any girl would be lucky to be with him,” you asserted, your heart racing. “He is gentle and a good communicator, and he loves me. And he would never do anything behind my back.”

Jungkook’s nostrils slightly flared as you talked about another man; he had always been the possessive one. He noticed how your stance wasn’t firm and the knitted expression on your eyebrows; a sign of uncertainty on your face he knew too well. “He loves you, huh? No doubt about it... do you love him though?”

Your breath hitched, and you felt faint for a second, not knowing how to compose yourself; you didn’t love him, no matter how much you tried. You always found yourself longing for something else... someone else. You didn’t know what to say, so you replied, “He treats me right.”

“I’d hope so...” he started, with an indescribable expression. “At least one person in that ‘relationship’ has to treat you right.”

You knew exactly what he was trying to do: making you overthink your relationship to come to the conclusion you two belonged together. But your half-healed heart refused to bring you to that place.

“What are you trying to accomplish, Jungkook?” you asked, saying his name as if it were venomous. “You left for Singapore almost two years ago; what was I supposed to do? Wait around for you until you remembered you had people who wanted to see you here? People who missed you?”

Now, he wore a spiteful expression, jabbing his cheek with his tongue. “No, you should have picked up my calls, answered my messages, let me know how you were doing. You should have at least let Zane let me know. You blocked me out of your life entirely; we are – we were in love, Yn. That doesn’t just go away overnight.”

You scoffed sarcastically to mask the pressure in your heart, affected by his words. “You think it was easy for me to do that? Guess what, Jungkook! It took a lot longer than ‘overnight’ for me to get over you, and if I had answered your calls and messages, maybe I still wouldn’t be over you!”

At that point, the loud party was a soft background noise for the two of you; you were too indulged in the rising tensions - your raising voices the only thing consuming you. Even during fights, there seemed to be no one else around you - for you.

“I wanted you to come with me! I got you a ticket, remember? The house is designed exactly how you envisioned your dream house,” he started, pain evident in his voice. “Yet, I have to live in it alone while everything reminds me of you.”

Your heart was breaking all over again, the sorrowful reflection in his gaze influencing you more than you wished. Yet, there was a rational part of you that recognized you had to stand your ground, defend yourself. You had good reasons to do what you did.

“Maybe you should have told me that before you bought a ticket for me without consulting me first!” you ranted, reminiscing the shock you felt at finding the tickets. “Or maybe you shouldn’t have taken the job offer and just stayed here like I wanted you to!!”

Jungkook had envisioned multiple scenarios about what would happen when you would see each other again. He thought about it all the time, while he was working, during sleepless nights without you by his side, while showering, working out, or fucking women that meant nothing to him... he knew exactly what you were going to say, if you would be willing to talk to him. And you were, and that made him feel happy despite the arguing because at least you were willing to argue with him, to talk to him.

He knew you, maybe more than anybody else did. He was convinced that the love between you two transcended any boundaries or obstacles.

“I know,” he admitted defeat, his voice velvety. “And I’m so fucking sorry, but please, baby, just give us another chance. I’m staying here for six months straight, and the offer to come with me after still stands.”

You felt conflicted; on one hand, you could not believe his audacity, and on the other, you were satisfied to know that he still wanted you, just like the last time he saw you.

“You can’t be serious!” you snapped. “I’m with Eric, and you can’t just come here and pretend like nothing ever happened.”

Jungkook felt your patience spreading thin and decided to go against his usual instincts to persuade you further. “Alright, I’m sorry. I just need to know one thing.”

“What?”

“Is he fucking you good?” he inquired, a possessive gleam in his eyes.

The question hung in the air like an unanswered prayer for a moment. You stood frozen before him as if you weren’t expecting him to ask that, as if you weren’t sure how to answer it.

And you truly didn’t.

“I don’t know,” came out in a whisper.

The truth was, you hadn’t let Eric that far yet, and you weren’t planning to do it anytime soon. He had an inability to make you wet, and whenever he went any further than touching your waist, you felt a slight sensation of disgust, like you would rather be fighting in a war than let Eric be inside you. You opted for telling him you were celibate, which wasn’t entirely a lie.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jungkook was confused, trying to decipher what you were trying to say.

“It means,” you started, slowly regaining your snappiness, “that I don’t know! I’ve never had sex with him.”

It was now Jungkook’s turn to say ‘what?!’ and it suddenly made you very aware that there were crowds of people just inside, Eric being one of them. You were lucky there were so many people blocking the view into the balcony, because if there weren’t, Eric would have found you a long time ago.

Jungkook was evidently happy with the revelation, smiling like an idiot.

“Stop smiling like that!” you hissed, motioning with your hands. “I’m just not ready yet. I told him I’m celibate. It’s none of your business anyway; why am I telling you any of this?”

Jungkook obeyed your wishes and stopped smiling; instead, he burst out laughing, so amused. “So you’ve been dating for eight months, and you still haven’t fucked? Damn, ma... we did it after the first date... and every day after.”

Before you could answer, your brother entered the balcony. When he saw you and Jungkook face to face, deep in a conversation or rather an argument, he gazed between you with an indescribable expression.

“Yn, Eric’s been looking for you everywhere,” Zane informed you with what you called ‘warning eyes’ digging holes into your face as you went back inside, leaving the two best friends alone.

___

The two weeks following the party were filled with work, for you and Jungkook alike. You didn’t run into each other again, but you did decide to unblock him.

You thought it was petty and unnecessary to deny him access to you when you would surely see him during his six-month stay here. You also wanted to see if he would notice and maybe hit you up occasionally; which he did.

Good morning texts and daily ‘how are you’s?’ filled you with an unspoken joy that you felt shouldn’t have been there, but you defended yourself by thinking, ‘I cannot control my feelings.’

Your conversation on the balcony made you think a lot through, specifically your relationship with Eric. You decided it was time to open up to him, giving him a chance to take you out properly, which he had been trying to do for a while.

So, you were getting ready for a romantic night out with Eric, putting on a gorgeous, tiny black dress that accentuated your curves and applying makeup that made you resemble an effortless beauty.

You planned to be honest with him about where you thought the relationship was headed.

---

You met up with Eric at a nice Italian restaurant in the middle of the city.

After a little small talk and finishing your meal, you sat in an awkward silence as he admired you.

You could feel something unusual but brushed it off as your usual paranoia. Eric was always a jolly person who wasn’t afraid to show his love in sometimes very overbearing ways.

“You know, Yn,” he started and suddenly got on one knee. His loving gaze spread pity over your conscience, his position weighing heavily on your chest. “I’ve never felt this way about anybody; you are bright like the stars and beautiful like a flower. I find you in everything around me. You consume my soul, Yn. I... I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

He took out a red box and opened it, revealing a small diamond ring. Eric waited a moment for your answer, but you sat frozen; it was too much. With the people around you watching, and Eric’s slowly saddened eyes gauging your reaction, you did not know what to do.

You questioned Eric’s self-awareness more than anything; when had you ever given him the impression that you wanted to marry him? You were sure you had never even given him a reason to think you wanted to be in a relationship with him!

You knew Eric’s lack of self-awareness would present a problem sooner or later, but you just wished it wasn’t in such a public setting, in front of at least twenty people.

Your breath quickened, and your heart tightened. You couldn’t do this anymore.

So, you grabbed your purse, stood up, and left with a hurried, “I’m sorry; I can’t do this,” leaving Eric with a humiliating crowd and a broken heart.

It felt like the right thing to do.

- - -

Once you ran to your car without looking back, you drove away from the scene.

You were so lost in thought that your subconscious acted; you set off in a direction you had not intended to go. You drove in the exact direction of Jungkook's apartment, as if it hadn’t been two years since you were last there, as if you were returning from work and it was your house.

As if your heart, and not your head, had guided you. If you had been thinking clearly at that moment, you would have given yourself a slap and reminded yourself who you were.

But you didn't, because as your grandma used to say, “Love makes a person lose their mind.”

You parked your car next to his luxury car. He still lived in the same apartment where you last fought, where you had countless sleepovers, where you lost your virginity, where you shared secrets, and made love in every corner.

You cursed and loved that apartment at the same time.

With a fog-clouded mind, you entered the complex and took the elevator to the fourth floor. Finally, you knocked on his door, '4B,' a few times before a confused Jungkook opened it.

He stood there in all of his glory, wearing grey sweatpants and an oversized black shirt, looking back at you with a questioning yet yearning gaze. “Yn?”

His voice immediately sent shivers down your spine, and you wanted to live in the eyes that devoured your lightly clothed body. “Can I come in?”

Your voice was smaller and weaker than it had ever been; he could tell there was something wrong but did not ask right away. He simply stepped aside and said, “Of course. Always.”

His eyes ran over the prominent curve of your breasts and your naked legs, begging to be wrapped around his head.

Before he had the chance to ask what was wrong, you threw yourself into his arms and whispered a desperate, “Can you just hold me?” into his ears.

He simply kissed your forehead and carried you to the couch.

You wrapped your exposed thick thighs around his waist and your arms draped around his neck, his hands resting on your hips, holding you as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

You hadn’t felt so safe since he left.

The realization that Jungkook was your safe space suddenly hit you, making you hide your face further in his neck.

He sat on the huge sofa, which led you to sit on his lap, your face still hidden in the hollow of his neck.

His large hand moved from your back to your hip, and you would have loved nothing more than to let yourself melt into his body. You had searched so long for that feeling – the feeling of being back in the arms of the only man you could love.

“What happened?” he asked solicitously, his voice rushing softly in your ears.

You refused to say anything for a few moments, totally unsure of how to explain your situation to him, or if you even wanted to.

Slowly coming out of your hiding place, you looked deep into his eyes; your eyes held a melancholy he noticed immediately. He stroked your goosebump-filled arms and brought his forehead close to yours. The atmosphere was just loving and peaceful.

“Eric proposed to me…” you sighed softly, fingers tangled in his soft black hair.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrowed. “What?? Did you...” He coughed a bit before continuing, “Did you say yes?”

You sighed even louder. Even though you did not want to discuss it, you knew you had to eventually.

“No,” you answered, trying to maintain eye contact. “I just ran away and drove here.”

It was obvious Jungkook was trying hard to suppress a smile, so he simply wrapped his arms around you comfortingly and gently rocked you back and forth without saying a word.

You were hyper-aware of the fact that the only thing separating your wet pussy from leaving marks on his sweatpants were your thin, almost see-through panties.

You stayed in that position for a while, before leaning in and starting to place wet kisses on his neck, your fingers tightening around his hair.

His breath grew heavier as he held onto the thick flesh of your bare ass, unsure whether to let you go further or stop you.

“Yn...” his tone was uncertain yet aroused. “We really shouldn’t…”

You continued the trail of desperate kisses, unable to resist, with his familiar scent and the feel of his skin against your lips.

You already felt his dick hardening in his boxers as you gently caressed it with your hands, making him groan at the friction.

“Why not?” you asked with a pout, before palming his dick harder while grinding on his thigh. “Don’t you want to fuck me? Do I not make you hard anymore?”

You knew that neither of those things was true; you were just playing dumb to get him to give in to something you wanted, craved desperately. Your body hadn’t been properly touched in nearly two years; you were starting to get needy.

“You’re in a vulnerable state,” he stated in a raspy voice, heavily affected by your behavior. “I don’t want to do something with you that you might regret later.”

You shook your head almost vigorously, gently punching his chest; it was only gentle because your arousal was weakening your body. “No, you don’t get to leave for Singapore for two years and then come back to deny me. If I say I want you, I better get you, okay? I’ve been lonely for almost two years, Kookie; my fingers are starting to cramp from how much I touch myself thinking about it... don’t you dare deny me.”

Despite the urge to chuckle at your approach, your words made him think about you craving him just as much as he craved you; it made him feel validated and less pathetic for thinking about you after all the time and distance.

He was always convinced the love between you two transcended any boundaries or obstacles.

He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, which you reciprocated with whimpers against his familiar lips. There was no way to describe how much you missed this feeling.

Suddenly gripping your hips tighter, he stood up, carrying you to the bedroom like you weighed nothing, your pussy and his clothed dick touching delectably, evoking even more arousal from both of you.

At his bedroom, he gently placed you on the bed, looking down at you with desire-filled eyes. “You sure you want this?”

“Yes!” Your patience was wearing thin. “Just fuck me, Jungkook, and stop talking so much.”

You tugged at his shirt, and he quickly took the hint, stripping it off to reveal well-defined abs and bulging biceps, arms that looked like they could kill someone.

The last time you saw him, he was already muscular and fit, but it was evident that he took his fitness seriously while in Singapore.

You dreamily stared him up and down. “Now, the pants.”

He chuckled at your bossiness but obeyed without hesitation, leaving him in just his boxers.

You were getting impatient, already reaching for your panties to rub your pussy in anticipation, letting out small ‘hmmm’ sounds that drove Jungkook insane.

Now, he was determined to take off your dress, zipping it down hastily and almost ripping it off you if it weren’t for your hands stopping him from ruining a perfectly good dress.

“Baby, you don’t know how much I missed this,” Jungkook breathed out, eyeing you hungrily while you carefully took off your dress.

Once the dress was off, you revealed nothing more than your panties; you decided not to wear a bra because the dress was strapless and it would look silly with one.

Jungkook’s breath hitched, clearly overwhelmed by the sight of your generous breasts. “No bra?”

You shook your head and slowly approached him, roaming your hands all over him and grabbing him by the neck to pull him in for a kiss.

Your chest pressed against his, or more accurately, against his solid stomach because of your height difference; he was acutely aware of your hard nipples.

“Fuck, Yn,” he groaned, his hands roaming your body just the same. “Need to be inside you.”

“Then fuck me,” you urged, tugging at his boxers with hooded eyes and parted lips, desperation and horniness visible. “Just want you to fuck me, Kookie.”

He tilted his head back at your words, muttering a low ‘fuck,’ before positioning himself to enter your pussy. He quickly glanced into your eyes for any uncertainty, and finally, when he didn’t find anything other than an eager, awaiting expression, he entered your tight pussy with a low groan.

Your mouth widened for a second as you tried to adjust to the feel of his dick again, eliciting loud moans of pleasure and slight uneasiness.

He pressed you against the wall for more support, thrusting deeper into you. He watched his dick enter your pussy; it was almost poetic to him how perfectly made for him your pussy felt.

There were no afterthoughts about the situation being wrong, absolutely no overthinking about Eric, who was blowing up your phone while you were getting your back blown by your ex.

It felt right; you and Jungkook knew you were meant to be, and there was nothing that could happen, no one that could come between you. At the end of the day, you were always going to be back in each other’s arms.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he panted, his lips pressing against your cheeks. “Still so fucking tight for me...”

You let out an aroused purr, already fucked out before even starting. Your hands were gripping his big arms, and your hips were moving towards him, seeking more friction.

“I’ve been dreaming about this moment, baby,” he admitted between low groans, moving in and out skillfully. “You know how many times I fisted my dick thinking about fucking you again?”

“Me too,” you desperately moaned back, bouncing slightly; the sound of slapping skin surrounded the air. “Fuck, Jungkook… love that dick… yes, I fucking love that dick…”

Your barely comprehensible words drove him crazy, gripping your hips and fucking you like you were a fuck toy. “Shit, baby, that pussy’s mine, yeah? Only mine. No one else gets to - fuck - no one else gets to have you like this.”

You nodded, burying your fucked-out face in his broad shoulder, vocalizing the pleasure you felt at every thrust. Your breath tickled his skin, and the warmth of his hands contrasted the coldness of the wall beautifully.

His big dick moved inside of you in a steady rhythm, each thrust making your eyes roll back further.

Your bodies pressed against each other sexually, big breasts spilling out against his strong chest, your hands moving around his back to scratch him harshly, and his grip on your ass and hips becoming almost painful; you were both begging for release.

“Harder, Kookie. Do it harder,” you begged, not caring how desperate you sounded. “That dick feels so fucking good. Oh god, Jungkook.”

He indeed started to fuck you harder, heavy breaths becoming even heavier, lips connecting again and again in sensual kisses. His moans against your lips drove you wild.

The raw intensity of the moment was driving you insane; you felt every inch of his beautiful dick, and he was feeling your pussy entirely, without the almost restrictive feeling of a condom.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” he panted with every quickened motion of his dick, his mouth forming an ‘o.’ “Baby, I’m g’na cum. Shit, I’m g’na cum so fucking hard.”

Feeling your high approach as well, you didn’t care about the consequences at all; you planned to go on birth control first thing in the morning, saying, “Cum inside, Jungkook. Please, just fill me up with that cum.”

Your bodies moved together rhythmically, his steady thrusts hitting exactly the right spots as you chased your orgasm. Your eyes locked together and your moans became intertwined.

Low ‘fuck’s and ‘oh god’s were all you heard, as both of you were too deep into the pleasure to formulate real sentences.

With one final thrust and a muttered ‘yes, just like that,’ he found his release, his thick, warm cum deliciously filling you. You closely followed, your back arching and head thrown back, the two of you coming hard.

His broad body momentarily collapsed against yours, both panting hard, still pressed against the wall. He whispered praises and sweet nothings in your ear while trying to regain composure.

“I’m so happy I came here,” you softly kissed him, and he agreed with your words, muttering a ‘me too’ against your lips.

You felt hazy and tired, but you tried to slowly get off Jungkook and get to the bathroom, which you eventually did with his help; he carried you all the way there.

After you finished cleaning yourselves up, you headed straight to the bed. You lay bare on your stomach, still somewhat overstimulated and hazy from the orgasm.

Jungkook gently stroked your backside, muttering things like, “You did so good for me, baby,” and “You don’t know how much I missed this fucking pussy,” before leaning in and biting into your shapely ass playfully, eliciting a gasp from you.

He spread kisses on your ass cheeks and slowly separated them; he stuck his head in between and gave your hole a few licks before gently sucking on the skin of your ass with his skillful tongue.

Your legs started to tremble from pleasure and mild discomfort; Jungkook had eaten you before, but you seldom did that in the bedroom.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized how terrified your brother would be if he knew what you two did.

“Jungkook!” you purred, arching your back for more pressure against his tongue. “Oh fuck… oh my god, oh god.”

Jungkook’s groans and low chuckles sent vibrations through your body, deepening the pleasure and making you seek your high more.

“Fuck, this fat ass is still as good as I remember,” he praised against the sensitive skin, still kneading and spanking it hard. “Wanna stay like this forever.”

He returned to licking and probing your asshole, clearly enjoying your squirming figure. You pushed your ass up, hoping for more friction.

You were practically already fucked out and overwhelmed that you couldn’t answer with more than a simple agreeing moan.

You started grinding your ass against his face, desperately wanting to cum again, enjoying the feel of his tongue against you.

His licks and your grinding quickened, which quickly turned into a series of ‘ah, ah, ah’s as you came undone on his tongue.

When your panting lessened, you turned around, lying on your back in bliss.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms almost immediately.

Jungkook thought this was the nicest way you could have welcomed him back.

___

i hope you enjoy this!! idk if i wanna give this a second part or just leave it like this (cause i have no idea what i would do in the 2nd part actually), but i’m thinking i’ll see if people enjoy it and then think about a part two💋 love uuu

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Intoxication [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

wc: 9.2k

Summary: when Spencer and reader accidentally consume aphrodisiacs, it seems impossible to maintain control of themselves. It all comes down to who will lose their mind first.

warnings: +18, mdni!! alcohol consumption, mentions of weed, unintentional use of aphrodisiacs, explicit descriptions, oral (f receiving) fingering, kissing, porn with plot, p in v, protected sex, no y/n!

It had been just over half an hour since I entered the fraternity building, fully aware that within the first second, I’d feel the need to leave. Attending any gathering wasn’t a regular thing for me. The noise, the crowds, and the multitude of germs everywhere were reason enough to avoid them.

However, that time, I thought, why not? I had never been to one of those university parties and wanted to experience it. However, I never considered the fact that, to enjoy one, you either: a) went with a group of friends or b) drank until you forgot your name and the discomfort you felt about yourself. I didn’t have the first option, nor did I want to do the second. So, after a few minutes of reflection, I decided I would walk back to my apartment and go straight to bed.

The place was huge, and since my postgraduate program didn’t include the benefit of dormitories, I rarely found myself in places like that. I was about to leave when a hand grabbed my forearm to stop me. In front of me, smiling widely, was her. The moment I saw her, I could swear my face lit up.

“Hi”

“Spencer! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Without letting go of my arm, she came closer, wrapping me in a hug and planting a kiss on my cheek before I could react.

I quickly glanced at her, and in the dim light, I noticed her wearing a fitted, spaghetti-strap dress in a deep burgundy red with delicate floral embroidery that looked hand-drawn on the sheer fabric. The material, likely chiffon or tulle, clung to her figure as if custom-made. I tried to focus on her leather jacket instead because the last thing I wanted was to make her uncomfortable by staring too long.

“I was just about to leave, actually.”

“Why?” she asked, noticing my sigh.

“It’s just... I don’t know anyone here.”

“Well, that problem is now solved,” she kindly murmured.

I didn’t even get the chance to respond when she had already walked over to another girl, whispering something in her ear, probably to let her know she’d be away for a while.

Even though I wanted to decline to stay, the truth was that I genuinely enjoyed her company. Rejecting her would have been too rude. We had met some time ago thanks to the advanced classes she took, which overlapped with mine. She was younger than me, of course, but only by one or two years.

She had always been kind to me, attentive, and one could say she was a friend. After all, I trusted her enough to let her hold my hand and guide me through the crowd, despite my aversion to physical contact… and people.

“It’d be a crime to let you leave so early after finally coming to a party,” she breathed once we were both seated on a tiny couch where the noise was slightly muffled. At least she had been considerate in that regard.

“I don’t even know why I came,” I said, shifting uncomfortably. She was leaning against one side, legs crossed, looking at me with a smile. “I don’t like parties.”

“Do you like drinking?” she asked. I shook my head “Maybe that’s the root of the problem.”

“Getting drunk to the point of losing control isn’t my thing,” I replied.

“That’s not what it’s about,” she murmured almost compassionately “It’s more like… fuel for your social battery, you know? You don’t have to deal with these people. I don’t even know half of them, but the guys in this fraternity are disgustingly rich and just want to get as many girls drunk as possible to sleep with whoever they can. They won’t mind if you drink a little. Enough to have fun, but not so much you end up in some stranger’s bed.”

I thought about it for a second and silently nodded. I didn’t want to look like an idiot in front of her by saying I didn’t want to drink because, come on, what kind of university student doesn’t drink?

“I understand your point, and I don’t mean to be a buzzkill, but alcohol has a more complex impact than it seems. It’s not just something that ‘fuels your social battery’; it’s a central nervous system depressant, which means it slows down brain and motor functions. That initial feeling of euphoria or relaxation happens because it inhibits the prefrontal cortex—the part of your brain that regulates judgment and self-awareness. So, technically, drinking a little might make you feel more uninhibited or confident, but it can also impair your ability to make rational decisions if you overdo it, even if you don’t notice right away.”

I paused, gauging how much more I should say before losing her interest. Hearing no objections, I continued:

“Additionally, strong liquors, which have high ethanol concentrations, can hit your system faster than diluted drinks. And if you drink too quickly, you could easily exceed your liver’s ability to metabolize the alcohol. The excess ethanol stays in your bloodstream, raising your blood alcohol levels and increasing the risk of intoxication.”

I avoided looking directly at her, partly because I didn’t want to get distracted by her gaze and partly because I was nervous around her.

“It’s not that I want to ruin your fun, but if you’re going to drink, you should do it slowly, alternating with water, and never on an empty stomach. Not to seem smarter than everyone else, but because staying in control can be the difference between a fun night and a situation you don’t want to be in.”

I expected her to look bored, confused, or even indifferent, assuming she’d left halfway through my rambling. But when I looked at her, I was surprised by the admiration shining in her eyes, accompanied by an amused smile.

“All right, genius boy, if you know all that and basically have the perfect recipe for not making stupid mistakes while drinking, why do you still refuse?” she teased playfully. I didn’t know what to say, but luckily, she answered for me “Listen, I drove here. How about we make a deal? We can drink a little, have a good time, maybe dance if you want, and if either of us starts doing something embarrassing, the soberest one will make sure to drag the other to the car and drive them home. Deal?”

She handed me her car keys, and I wasn’t sure if the brush of her hand against mine was intentional or if she had decided to linger a little longer.

I agreed to her proposal, and a second later, she was already off her seat, walking toward where I assumed the kitchen was. No one noticed us entering, too absorbed in their own business to care if we were strangers.

There was every type of alcohol scattered around, and she took the liberty of pouring me a shot of a clear liquid, which I guessed was vodka. She warned me to drink it in one gulp, and when the warmth hit my throat, I barely managed to avoid coughing. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything.

“Tastes like… strawberry.”

“It’s good, right?” she laughed, giving my shoulder a playful nudge.

Our previous seat was already taken, so she opted for us to stand in a quiet corner. I have to admit that, although I still felt slightly awkward, the vodka was having the desired effect; making me feel more animated to talk.

Talking to her was almost hypnotic. Maybe it was the rhythmic movement of her lips, still stained with traces of what had once been red lipstick, or perhaps it was her tone, but it made me feel like I had to watch her. She never faltered when she spoke, always exuding confidence and calm, no matter the topic.

On the other hand, whenever I responded, I completely lost focus. No matter what I said, she kept looking at me with a wide smile, nodding, and even leaning closer when something made her laugh. But her laugh wasn’t mocking—no, it was as if she genuinely found my intellectual jokes or nonsensical remarks funny.

Gradually, my glass emptied, and she guided me back to the kitchen, serving us moderately but consistently. After an hour, all my nerves had vanished, leaving only a normal guy enjoying the terrible background music, unconcerned about how dirty the place was, and utterly captivated by the woman next to him.

“It’s strange, you know? I didn’t think I’d enjoy something like this. Parties always seemed so… chaotic,”

She looked around with a slight smile.

“That’s true. They’re not exactly calm, but in a way, the chaos has its charm. It lets you leave everything else behind for a while.”

“I suppose you’re right. Sometimes, you just need to disconnect.”

“You seem less tense now, huh? Are you sure it’s not the vodka helping with that?”

She moved closer, almost leaning against my chest in a friendly way, and seeing her looking up at me made my face feel hot.

“Maybe. But it’s also largely due to the company.”

She seemed surprised by my sudden boldness and let out a laugh that I interpreted as a sign of approval. We continued drinking, laughing, and soon my stomach demanded food. Even in my slightly tipsy state, I still remembered that eating would help lessen the effects of the alcohol.

I have to admit that the way I held her waist to guide her to the kitchen was entirely intentional. However, she didn’t seem bothered by the contact. By this point, I’d realized that no one really cared about what we took or didn’t take, so we felt free to rummage through the pantry.

“There are chips, pretzels, Cheetos, some cookies...” she began listing, handing me each package she found.

I grabbed a stray cookie, and suddenly, she let out a sigh of admiration.

“What is it?”

“Chocolate,” she murmured happily. It was a half-eaten, luxurious-looking golden package with no label “Do you want some?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Chocolate has properties that can slightly boost energy and mood. Both alcohol and chocolate can be hard for the body to handle, especially with a combination of high sugar and alcohol content. This can lead to stomach discomfort, dizziness, or a stronger hangover the next day.”

But she wasn’t listening. She had already popped a sizeable piece of chocolate into her mouth. Immediately, she offered me a piece, slightly bigger than hers.

“You have to try it,” she moaned.

I resisted, but I have to admit that the fact she grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer caught me off guard enough to let her slip the chocolate into my mouth.

“Hey!”

“You’ll thank me later.”

It was delicious, that’s for sure. Like a pair of sneaky raccoons, we kept scavenging for snacks in the kitchen until we were satisfied. She grabbed a bag of chips, and I took the bag of pretzels.

After our little break, she poured us another round of drinks, and something inside me told me it was time to stop. I decided that would be my last glass for the night.

Let’s dance she suddenly whispered, and once again, I let her lead me toward the crowd.

I didn’t know how to dance; I think that was pretty obvious. But the situation managed to make me forget that fact.

She was patient with me and laughed every time I made a mistake. Even though there was smoke around me, probably from weed, that didn't stop me from staring intently, and even somewhat intimidated, at my friend. Beautiful, statuesque, and drunk friend.

We danced for a long time until something in her swaying movements, in the way she smiled at me, began to make my head spin. It was as if the atmosphere was charged with something more—something I couldn’t identify at first.

She leaned closer, and my pulse began to quicken slightly. Her hands rose to tangle in my neck, bringing a warm sensation that followed: my thoughts seemed clearer, sharper. I wondered if it was the alcohol, but then something different began to course through my skin.

The warmth intensified, not just in my body but in my mind as well. I felt more alert, more awake, yet the calmness of the vodka lingered, balancing the sensation. My skin felt more sensitive, as if every little touch sent vibrations through me in a more intense way.

My eyes focused more on her movements, her voice, and the way the air filled with her perfume. I wanted to get closer, as if there were an invisible force pulling me toward her. And though my body responded with a soft yearning, my mind remained present, conscious of every second.

By the way she was looking at me, I imagined I wasn’t the only one experiencing these kinds of emotions.

“Sweetheart.”

“Hmm?”

“Can we sit down for a moment? I’m completely sweaty, and the smell of weed is starting to bother me.”

“Of course.”

My hands rested on her waist, unsure of where else to go, and we stumbled out of the crowd, finding a couch to collapse onto.

I was sweaty too, and we were both breathing heavily. When I saw her lean her head back against the seat, leaving her neck exposed, something stirred inside me.

“You move well, Reid.”

“Don’t lie.”

“I mean it. You just need a little confidence,” she smiled. Perhaps the alcohol dulled her sense of personal space, which is why she leaned so close to me. “You’re so smart that, with a bit of practice, you’d be the most skilled at a lot of physical activities.”

Did she know how nervous she was making me? My face was already flushed from the alcohol, the effort, and now from the way she was looking at me while twirling a strand of her hair around her finger.

I wanted to say something else, but a voice interrupted mine: a tall, burly guy accompanied by two others who seemed to be flanking him. Probably a member of the fraternity hosting the party.

He specifically addressed her, asking how she was enjoying the party and throwing in a compliment, clearly with ulterior motives. For a moment, I felt disheartened. Of course, she could have gone with him and I would have understood. I was far too used to rejection.

“I’m having a great time—with my friend. Thanks,” she exclaimed, cordial but curt.

“Want a drink?”

“Honestly, no.”

By the uncomfortable smile she gave the men, I assumed she was politely ending the conversation. With some reluctance, the guys walked away.

Suddenly, my breath caught when I felt her hand rest on my thigh, sliding painfully slowly down to my knee. I couldn’t even hear her words over the heat of her fingers on my pants.

“Sorry?”

“I thought you were going to say something, earlier.”

“No,” I quickly replied, smiling like an idiot because of the way she had leaned toward me. “Nothing.”

“I like listening to you. You know so many things, and you don’t make me feel dumb when you explain them. That’s very sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah,” she smiled, because I’d replied in a voice an octave higher than normal. “You are very sexy.”

Her compliment was followed by a soft, distracted kiss on the line of my jaw, which sent my brain into overdrive.

“Uhm… you… you’re beautiful. Very beautiful.”

My clumsy compliment seemed to please her, and I felt one of her nails, long and painted black, tracing circles on the skin of my knee. Each small movement felt deliberate, as if she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Did you know fireflies don’t just glow to communicate but also to… attract?”

Her voice broke the silence between us, soft but layered with a double meaning that made me lift my eyes to her.

“Yes, I know,” I responded automatically, my brain switching to autopilot. “Bioluminescent signals are a form of courtship. The light patterns vary by species and can be very specific.”

She turned her head toward me, her lips curving into a lazy smile.

“Of course you’d know that. But tell me something—do you think it actually works? Making someone notice you just by glowing?”

My throat went dry. There was something about the way she was looking at me, like she was expecting a more personal answer than a scientific one.

“I guess it depends on who you’re trying to attract,” I murmured, feeling ridiculously exposed under her gaze.

“That makes sense.”

Her hand slid slightly—barely noticeable—toward the edge of my knee. After tapping her fingers on my pants, she withdrew it.

She didn’t move from the couch, and neither did I. There was something about her posture that held me captive—the way she leaned back against the seat, relaxed yet naturally elegant. Her dress had ridden up slightly along her thighs, revealing more skin than I felt prepared to handle at that moment. I tried to look elsewhere, but it was as if my eyes had a will of their own, always returning to the same place.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with a hint of amusement.

“Yes, of course,” I replied quickly, turning my head in the other direction. Perhaps too quickly, because my neck cracked slightly in the process.

She didn’t say anything, but her suppressed laughter made me feel even more awkward. In the silence that followed, I forced myself to focus on something safer: the empty glass on the table, the flickering lights through the window, anything but the curve of her leg or the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed.

“It’s hot, isn’t it?” she commented suddenly, with almost theatrical casualness. Then, without warning, she leaned forward as if to adjust her shoe, causing the neckline of her dress to dip even further.

“Do you think so?” I muttered, my voice raspier than I intended.

She smiled, a gesture somewhere between innocence and knowing.

“Yes, definitely. Though maybe it’s because we’re sitting so close,” she said, glancing around as if she had only just noticed the temperature.

Her words felt like both a slap and a caress at the same time. I tried to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but it didn’t help that her eyes shone with a kind of mischievous intent. Then she lifted one leg, bending it to get more comfortable on the couch, and her knee accidentally brushed against my thigh.

“Did you know you have a very particular way of distracting yourself?” she remarked while toying with the hem of her dress, as if unaware of the chaos she was causing in my head.

“Do I?” my voice sounded weak, almost a whisper.

She nodded slowly, leaning in a bit closer until I could feel the warmth of her proximity.

“Yes. It’s like you’re trying to avoid something but… you can’t.”

My throat went dry. I wanted to say something clever, to steer the conversation away, anything to regain some ground. But instead, all that came out was a nervous, forced laugh.

She didn’t stop looking at me. Then, with exasperating slowness, she smoothed the fabric of her dress over her thigh—a casual gesture.

“You know, sometimes you seem so self-aware. It’s something that can be endearing, but also… well, how do I put it?” she paused for a moment, bringing a finger to her lips as if she were reflecting. “It makes you seem easier to impress.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing, Reid. It’s just me rambling” her voice softened, and I felt the lightest touch on my nose as her finger grazed it. I tried to ignore the fact that her gaze had lingered on my lips “Scattered thoughts I have in my head.”

Without warning, she let out a loud exhale and leaned back into the couch, arching her back as if trying to relieve some muscle tension. I know she probably wasn’t aware of the movement, but it was what finally made me lose the little composure I had left.

“I need to use the restroom. Can you give me a moment?”

I escaped. Cowardly, completely, I got up and practically bolted toward the bathroom, desperate for a moment of peace. As soon as I entered, I realized I had an obvious problem in my pants—I was hard as a rock, and that wasn’t good. I looked at myself in the mirror, surprised at how flushed my face was. My pupils were dilated, my lips dry… What the hell was happening to me?

It quickly became clear that she was the reason for my situation.

The alcohol prevented me from feeling the embarrassment I surely deserved, and instead, I felt like my head was spinning. I placed a hand over the fabric of my pants, letting out a frustrated, pained groan.

I stayed there for a while, trying to think of something that would make my erection go away, but nothing worked. A couple of knocks on the door startled me, and that forced me to leave. Once in the hallway, I walked for a bit until I bumped into someone.

“Spencer! I’ve been looking for you. Are you okay?”

“No! I mean, yes… it’s just…”

I needed to think of something quickly—something believable, but not catastrophic. However, it was hard to concentrate with her body so close to mine, mere inches away from her noticing my situation.

“Did you throw up?”

“No, no, it’s not that. It’s nothing. I think the vodka didn’t sit well with me, uh, maybe I got dizzy from dancing, I don’t know. I think it’s best if I leave.”

“Poor thing,” she murmured, pouting “I’ll take you home right now.”

“I can take a cab.”

“Nonsense. That was our agreement, remember? If one of us was in bad shape, the other would take care of them. Plus, I was the one who encouraged you to drink. I’d feel bad if something happened to you.”

She was already putting on her jacket—she’d been holding it, probably suspecting the situation—and tried to find the keys in her pocket. My outstretched hand reminded her that she’d already given them to me earlier.

When she placed her hand on the small of my back to guide me out, my breathing deepened. The sensation of excitement coursed through me in a way I couldn’t ignore. I realized that something in me desperately wanted her. Too much.

It wasn’t an impulsive desire but a subtle one that had been building throughout the night—with every glance, every gesture. Perhaps the vodka had intensified my evident attraction to her, but whatever the reason, it had turned into something far more palpable.

It was almost as if my body was begging me to stop her right then and there, to kiss her recklessly, and maybe, just maybe, ease the relentless ache inside me.

The cool night air made me feel better, and as the noise faded behind us, I began to calm down. I fervently tried to hide the bulge in my pants, but the truth was she didn’t even seem to notice. Then again, it would’ve been strange to catch her staring at my crotch, right?

“Are you sure you’re in a condition to drive?”

“I’ve driven home in far worse states of drunkenness. Don’t worry,” she smiled.

She looked more lucid now, as if her intoxication had vanished in an instant. I decided to trust her abilities.

The drive home was silent, and I kept shifting in my seat, trying to find strategic positions to avoid embarrassment. I guess she attributed my silence to the supposed discomfort I was feeling, as she didn’t try to start a conversation.

She didn’t say anything when she caught me looking at her through the rearview mirror. It was an innocent glance, at least on my part, simply admiring her. Her lips were driving me crazy, her eyes, slightly narrowed from the lack of light and smudged with mascara, seemed the most beautiful to me. I didn’t know what she saw in me, but I think—no, I feel—that it was something she liked.

“Thank you so much for bringing me home… and for everything.”

“Did you have fun?”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“We should do this more often.”

“Go to university parties?”

“Just go out in general. To a bar, grab some drinks, a coffee, the library if you’d prefer,” she laughed “The place doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re there.”

Was she implying she wanted a date with me? I swallowed hard and looked at her, trying to decipher what she wanted me to do. I couldn’t figure it out.

“I’d like that, yes. We can talk about that later. Thanks again for the ride.”

A kiss on my cheek marked her goodbye, and I rushed out, eager to get inside my apartment. I was about to unlock the building’s door when the sound of a car horn made me turn around.

“Hey, would you mind if I use your bathroom? I’ll be quick,” she promised.

I needed to get to the shower and turn on the cold water, but I didn’t protest when she turned off the car engine.

Almost no one visited me in the apartment, so I kept the space however I pleased. It wasn’t really messy, but there were plenty of things on the desk and several books scattered around.

She entered, as she had said, rushing to the bathroom. It was only then that I dared to put a hand over my pants, swallowing a moan that was about to escape from my throat.

In my limited sexual experiences, nothing like this had ever happened to me, and I wondered what the cause might have been. Alcohol couldn’t be blamed, of course, but it was responsible for ruining my ability to react enough to find another explanation.

The shirt began to feel heavy on me, and almost out of necessity, I undid the first buttons to let myself breathe. I tried to ventilate my skin by tugging at the fabric with the tips of my fingers, but it was useless. I sighed.

I glanced around the room, just wanting to make sure nothing was embarrassing in view, and at that moment, she came out of the bathroom. She looked flushed and had some wet hair, as if she had washed her face.

“You okay?”

“Yes, just… suddenly felt a bit feverish”

“Let me check”

My intentions were purely medical when I cupped her face with one hand, putting the back of the other against her forehead to confirm or deny my suspicions. Of course, I hadn’t considered how close we would be. Or maybe I had, subconsciously, and that’s why I moved forward.

My choice of words wasn't the best either.

“You’re hot,”

“I don’t think it’s as much as you.”

A daring smile slid across her lips, and I held my breath as her fingers traced up to the line of my collarbone, exposed by my shirt.

“Why are you saying that?”

“Don’t you like it?”

“It’s just… I don’t understand it.”

A soft laugh echoed in my ears.

“Well, I think you’re very handsome. Would there be any other reason for that?”

I swallowed deeply. She noticed the movement of my Adam’s apple.

“No… I think… I think not. It’s the most logical thing.”

“Don’t they tell you that often?” she murmured, genuinely confused. I shook my head “That’s a shame.”

Her hand, which had been tentatively caressing my skin, moved up to my neck and pulled me just a few inches closer to her.

“Hey, Spencer.”

“Yes?”

“Could I kiss you?”

A chill ran down my spine. And without thinking, I answered yes.

Her mouth found mine with a softness that contrasted with the whirlwind of sensations inside me. It was a heady contrast: the sweetness of her lips against the intensity of the desire that had been building up in every fiber of my being.

My hands instinctively moved to her waist, hesitating for a moment, as if fearing that this might just be a product of my imagination. But she didn’t hesitate. Her body leaned into me, closing any distance that remained.

Her lips were insistent, demanding, and before I could process what was happening, her hand slid down to my chest, pushing me gently back until my back collided with the wall.

“I’m sorry…” I managed to murmur between kisses, pulling my face slightly away. My voice came out more trembly than I wanted.

She raised an eyebrow, tilting her face toward mine, her fingers now brushing my jawline.

“Why are you apologizing?”

“For this” my gaze dropped quickly before returning to her eyes. “No… I didn’t want you to feel it. It’s embarrassing.”

For a moment, I thought she would pull away, that the spell of the moment would break. But instead, her lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Embarrassing? I thought I was the only one feeling all this tension,” her tone was low, almost a whisper, but filled with a certainty that made my breath grow even more erratic.

Before I could respond, her lips captured mine again, this time with more intensity. The kiss was everything I didn’t know I needed: desperate, intoxicating, completely consumed by the connection between us. I felt her body press against mine, her curves fitting perfectly as if they were made to be there. And then, all my doubts, all my attempts to hold back, vanished.

My mind was a whirlwind. Every touch of her lips, every time her tongue sought mine, was like a fire I couldn’t put out. My face was hot, yes, but now not because of the alcohol, not even from the effort of holding myself back. It was her closeness, her touch, her condescending voice still echoing in my head.

She knows what she’s doing. And she’s slowly killing me.

“Hey, wait…”

“What’s wrong?”

“Do you feel okay with this?”

“A lot. Do you want to stop?”

“No. It’s just that… you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to think I took advantage of you” my voice came out hoarse, full of doubt and repressed desire.

Her eyes met mine, firm and warm at the same time, as if her gaze could completely disarm me.

“Relax. You’ve been drinking too, pretty, and I think if anyone could make that accusation, it would be you. Do you feel like I’m taking advantage of you?”

“No”

“I’m fully aware of everything. I don’t even feel drunk anymore. The only thing that’s making me dizzy right now is you, Spencer…”

I shivered when I heard my name on her lips like that. She continued:

“I’m just as anxious as you are. I’ve been holding back all night, trying not to make this too obvious, but I can’t anymore. Please, don’t doubt me. Don’t doubt what I want. I want you”

Her confession hit my heart like a blow and ignited a spark that set my entire body on fire. My hand moved up her back until it tangled in her hair, while the other rested on her hip. The pull was gentle but enough for her to understand that my inner struggle had ended. I wasn’t resisting this anymore.

I wanted her too. I wanted her now.

“I never imagined…”

My words were barely audible as our lips brushed in a kiss that was both an explosion of emotions and a long-awaited relief. Her mouth was soft, and so perfectly synchronized with mine that I felt like the world stopped at that moment.

Her hands gripped my shoulders, anchoring the connection between us, while my thumb traced a slow path along her jawline, savoring every detail of her skin. It was more than a kiss. It was the confirmation of something that had been lingering all evening.

When we parted just a centimeter to breathe, our foreheads stayed pressed together.

“Did that clear your doubts?”

“You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say all that,” I replied with a weak smile, the only one my pounding heart allowed me to form.

“Then stop overthinking”

The space between us disappeared again as we kissed with desperation we had both been suppressing. Her low laugh vibrated against my lips, and I couldn’t help but smile. How did she do it? How did she drive me crazy with so little effort?

But now wasn’t the time for questions. It was time to feel.

The whole world had reduced itself to him: his warm breath, his lips that wavered between soft and desperate, and the hands that roamed my waist with a mix of reverence and clumsiness, making me want him even more. Spencer had always been an enigma to me, a balance between restraint and passion that I didn't know how to decipher... until now.

I had waited for this moment more than I would ever admit. Maybe it had been the way he looked at me when he thought I didn't notice, or the warmth in his voice when he said my name, as if it were something sacred. But now, with his body pressed against mine and his doubts finally gone, I knew I hadn't imagined anything.

It was as if the pieces of a puzzle I had been trying to put together in the dark finally clicked into place, and the resulting image was more beautiful than I had ever dreamed.

Wanting to reverse the roles, it was now him who gently pushed me against the wall, and I felt the control he always seemed to have begin to crack. His breath was heavy, his body trembling slightly, a sign that this was as new and overwhelming for him as it was for me.

"Spencer..." I murmured his name again, feeling it resonate in my chest at the same time his lips moved more intensely against mine. "Can I ask you something?"

I received an affirmative exhalation, and to let me speak, his lips moved to the hollow of my neck. Although my mouth was free, the soft and wet kisses I was receiving blurred my judgment a bit.

"Tell me”

"Did you really feel bad at the party? Or was it just..."

"I didn't want you to notice what you were doing to me. Although I think at this point it doesn't matter much, right?"

Contrary to what I expected, Spencer pushed his hips against mine, as if he wanted to prove that it was true. I could even call it a claim, something that said: look what you did to me. And I wanted him to know just how much my body was begging for him.

Carefully, I moved one of his hands from my waist, and before he could protest, I guided it to one of my thighs, dangerously close to my core. I was glad I had thought of lingerie as a great complement to my dress, maybe in an attempt to feel sexy even if no one saw it. But now, he was going to see it.

Spencer understood my silent request. Those long, slender fingers, which seemed made for more than just flipping through the pages of a book or scribbling frantic notes on paper, slid across my smooth skin. I sighed as I remembered the veins tracing a map under his fair skin, like rivers of contained energy.

Until they finally reached where I needed them. And his touch... God, his touch was something else. They were hands made for discovery, for holding, for exploring, but in those moments, they seemed to be made only for me.

Spencer wasn't an overly bold guy, so it didn't surprise me that he just traced shapes above my panties, as if he wanted to diagnose my anatomy before making any move. My sighs at his ear seemed to please him.

Suddenly, he stopped kissing me, and I huffed, since I liked the attention he was giving my shoulder, until I felt his lips drop just slightly. A loud, pathetic moan escaped me when he squeezed my tits while burying his face to leave an experimental kiss.

I was barely processing that when he knelt in front of me and, carefully, took the edge of my dress and lifted it.

My legs trembled with anticipation at the thought of what he was going to do next, and then I felt his lips brush my thigh. He started gentle, kind, but soon he began sucking every bit of skin he could, and in the end, he made sure to leave bites strong enough to make me whimper.

Who would have thought that this man, seemingly so inexperienced, turned out to offer the best foreplay a woman could desire?

I squealed as I felt his kisses trail down to the fabric of my panties, pausing for a moment to lick the length of my still-clothed pussy.

“You’re dripping wet,” he observed. I was too focused on not giving in right then and there to say anything "Is oral something you're into?"

“I don’t know,” I exclaimed honestly. I didn’t care how vulnerable I looked as I confessed that no man had ever dared to give me head “You?”

“It’s an idea that piques my curiosity, yes.”

Gently he slid some of the fabric aside to clear the way for his tongue, and I felt as if my entire body was only aware of the parts he was probing, kissing, sucking. When he raised my thigh to shoulder height, deepening his thrusts, I felt like I was going to pass out.

I lowered my hand to his thick head and tried, in vain, to push him away from me. I honestly didn’t have the strength or desire to do so, much less when he had picked up the pace.

I moaned a sweet nickname out loud and then Spencer pulled away, looking up at me with glossy, swollen lips.

“Take me to bed, please.”

He didn’t need me to say it twice as he immediately stood up and took me by the waist to guide me to said spot. I was able to taste myself on his lips and for some reason that only turned me on.

Once we hit the mattress the way he laid me down was gentle and I sighed at that. How could he be so sweet all the time? I wondered. And worse yet, how much would this little adventure affect my future expectations?

Because if it was about standards, I was finding out that Spencer Reid was the standard.

Seemingly more enthralled now by my lips than my pussy, he continued with the make-out session we were having. With each touch we had, my excitement was increasing more and more. In the midst of it all I managed to unbutton his shirt and take it off to leave it somewhere on the bed; the semi-darkness of the room shielded any insecurities he might be feeling, as well as my own.

“You are painfully stunning, did you know?”

My tone was one of reproach, and he laughed at that, looking down almost embarrassed. Maybe he wasn't used to compliments, but something told me he was definitely enjoying it.

I heard him murmur something under his breath about me, while he took down the straps of my dress. My hands almost instinctively went to unbuckle his belt, and before I could do anything, he pulled away from me. Needless to say, this left me confused.

"Sorry, I..."

“You don't want to?” I murmured understandingly. I thought maybe he wasn't a big fan of these situations, and I understood, but somehow I felt hurt.

"No! Sure I want to. I want it a lot, but..." he tried not to look at me, as if avoiding confrontation "It's just that I don't have any protection here”

A laugh escaped my lips, and I feared he might interpret it as mockery, so I stretched my neck to steal another kiss.

"One would think there are many girls who pass through these sheets."

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not making fun of you. It's cute, actually. It even makes me feel guilty," I murmured, smiling "For a second, I was afraid something had made you uncomfortable."

"No, it's not that."

I hesitated for a second whether I should suggest what was on my mind.

"We could do it like this. It doesn't bother me."

"It's not just about avoiding an unwanted pregnancy..." he began. At that moment, I saw him return to his usual nerdy mode. "Although, of course, that counts. But there are things like sexually transmitted infections, some of which don't even show symptoms at first and could complicate things if not detected on time. I know this doesn't sound very attractive, but believe me, protection isn't just for avoiding future problems; it's also to take care of you now, so you don't have issues later: because sometimes men can transmit diseases we're asymptomatic for, and to be honest, I've never done those kinds of tests. A lot of people don't think about it, but the risks are real. And don't get me wrong, I trust you, but even though you trust me, diseases don't discriminate. And I'd like us both to have that peace of mind. Prevention is never too much."

“You conflict me deeply. On the one hand, I admire how responsible you are; it's very cute. But on the other hand, I just urgently need you to fuck me deep and cum inside me”

Spencer was surprised by my desperate whining and tensed when I placed one of my legs around his waist, trying to persuade him. But I was even more surprised when I felt him pull completely away to stand beside the bed.

"Where are you going?"

"To the pharmacy," he announced, putting a jacket over his bare torso.

"Are you serious?" I laughed widely, sitting on the bed now that my companion had moved away.

"Definitely. I feel like I can't handle it any longer, it’s physically painful, and when you talk to me like that, it just drives me crazy” he groaned, joining in the fun. It was the first time something like this happened, and I honestly thought it was absolutely hilarious “I'll be back in a minute, I swear! Please, don't go...”

"I couldn't," I murmured sweetly. He came closer, and I took the opportunity to kiss him again "Be quick. I'll be waiting anxiously for you."

Something in my tone of voice affected the man, or maybe it was the wink I gave him, but I saw him bolt out the door. I flopped back onto the bed, taking a moment to digest what was happening.

I have to admit that my classmate had always been attractive to me, but I never thought he could feel the same way. Not even in my wildest dreams did I imagine that I would be waiting for him in his bed so that, with any luck, he could ravish me without holding back.

As I reached out my arms, I could feel the fabric of the shirt I had previously removed from him, and then I brought it up to my nose, inhaling without thinking. A familiar scent hit me immediately: the mix of sweet cocktails he had drank during the party and a subtle trace of cannabis, as if the night was still impregnated in him. I could distinguish a hint of wood, perhaps from the furniture in the place, combined with a light scent of sweat that was not bothersome, but rather natural. And then, among all that, there was his perfume: a citrus and spicy aroma that evoked something fresh, but also deep, sensual, as if every molecule of his being was waiting for something more. I breathed harder, feeling that this aroma, this moment, defined him.

I didn't know why that particular night my whole body was screaming for his closeness. I was crazy about him and it wasn't the alcohol's fault, because I'd had too many drinks to know. Neither of us had ever done drugs and for a moment I was terrified by the idea that I could want to be with someone like that, with such fervor that it was worrying.

Still dizzy from the excitement of the moment, I lowered one of my hands to my crotch to get rid of my panties. I thought about him, wondering how skilled he was. Not that I doubted his abilities, but just like I’d told him that night, he might need some practice.

I started to fantasize about helping him through this situation, maybe guiding him or pampering him by just asking him to lay back so I could do all the work. Spencer was the kind of man who invited you to please him, the kind of man you wanted to satisfy because he never pressured you into it.

Playing with myself, I sniffed his shirt again, desperately wishing I could have the source of said scent with me, until my brain was filled only with daydreams in which he was the protagonist and my fingers were replaced by his. That's why I didn't notice when he opened the apartment. And that's why I didn't know he was watching me from the door frame until I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

Being caught in that position made me feel embarrassed at first, but the way he practically lunged at me and kissed me more decisively than before, I figured he liked seeing me like that.

"Busy?"

I was caught off guard by his sassiness and I knew he was proud of it by the smile I felt on my neck.

“I guess you found what we need, right?”

“Uh-huh”

“Have you read any books on female anatomy?”

“Quite a few”

“So I guess you know a lot about sexuality, don’t you?”

“In theory, yes. Unfortunately, I haven’t had many opportunities to put it into practice.”

A smile spread across my face, which luckily he couldn't see because he was too busy leaving a trail of kisses along the top of my torso.

“How unfortunate, considering you’re a scientist. I wouldn’t mind becoming an object of your study, though, you know?”

He subtly slid the straps of my dress and revealed my bra, from which a considerable part of my boobs protruded, which he happily kissed.

At the same time his hand came down to caress me, making me shiver with anticipation, resting on just the right spots. It was the least I could expect from such an intellectual man, one who definitely knew about the thousands of nerve endings concentrated in my clitoris, which he was definitely tapping into to satisfy me.

“May I?” he whispered, looking at the little underwear he still had on.

I nodded immediately and arched my back to make it easier for him to unbutton it, which didn't take too long. He was practically worshipping every inch of my skin, which, combined with his gentle yet firm fingers rubbing me, was driving me crazy.

We both moaned in unison as he pushed a finger into me. It felt just as good as I had imagined.

I had read somewhere that, physiologically, women need more time to achieve an orgasm and although none of my exes had cared about that, this one seemed to know that fact. Maybe that was why he was giving me such attention, which I was undoubtedly grateful for.

“Honey…” I choked out “you’re doing great, really, really good, but would you mind if we replaced those fingers? I want to feel you inside me,” I practically begged.

I never begged, I felt like a fool doing it, but if that got me the intensity of the kiss he gave me, I wouldn't mind starting to do it.

Spencer pulled away from me, searching for the packet of condoms he'd run off to get, and while he unbuttoned his pants I got rid of my dress, which by this point was just a mass of fabric around my waist.

My body wasn't perfect, but I figured that wouldn't matter to him. Besides, I doubt he'd be rude enough to mention it.

“Need a hand?” I joked playfully, noticing that he was struggling to open the silver package.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little nervous,” he said to himself, hoping I wouldn’t mind too much.

I wanted to reward him for treating me so well a few moments ago and I took the package from his hands, placing my palm on his chest until I laid him down against the mattress. Once in that position it wasn't difficult to get rid of the wrapping to place the piece of latex on him, thinking that I didn't have a single complaint about his body.

My hands on him made him nervous and I watched him turn into a mess as I began pumping his cock up and down to make sure he had the condom on properly.

“You don’t have to hold back. I like the sounds you make,” I exclaimed in a velvety tone, trying to sound as genuine as possible “That way I know you’re enjoying it.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to hold out for much longer,” he confessed, as my hand continued to move along his length. Although I wished I could take better care of him, I understood the situation.

“Your wish is my command”

He didn't complain when I put each leg on his sides and he bravely hardened as I teased him for a moment before sinking my pussy onto his dick. I started slow, trying to make him last as long as possible, but with each second it was getting harder to keep up a pace.

I tried my best to ride him, trying to give him the best experience as a thank you for all his hospitality. And from the whimpers coming out of his throat I assume I was doing my job well.

At some point his hands ended up on my hips, guiding me as he pleased. Sometimes he pushed me down, as if he wanted to get to the bottom of me, and other times he manipulated me so that the thrusts were fast.

He wasn't lying when he said he would cum in no time, as the repressed desire added to the previous sexual actions had him on the edge of the abyss. I knew he had reached orgasm when he closed his eyes and his hips slammed against me, in erratic movements.

I kept riding him a little longer, chasing my own climax, and when I got it I put my hands against his chest, arching in pleasure. Spencer, breathing heavily, grabbed my wrists in his hands and then pulled me so that I was against his torso, my lips too close to his.

He placed his palm on my cheek and pulled me in his direction, seemingly asking for a kiss. I granted it.

“Are you satisfied?”

“I am,” I sighed wryly. It was cute that he didn’t know that sometimes girls don’t even make it. “How was it for you?”

“I'm speechless.”

I laughed and, to a certain extent, felt flattered that I had left a man who knew a million ways to express himself in that state.

We enjoyed the high we had just had for a few minutes and waited for our breathing to slow down; when our sighs took the same rhythm, he spoke again.

“You should go to the bathroom. It’s, uh… healthy for you to do it after every encounter.”

I reached for the garment he had been wearing and, trying to protect myself from the cold air, I put it on over myself.

“Do you mind lending it to me?”

“Nu-huh,” he hummed, eyeing me as if I were a cupcake. I would later learn how affected he was to see me using his clothes to slide out of bed.

When I came out of the bathroom he already had his boxers on, probably wanting to maintain modesty, and when he went to attend to his needs I also looked for my panties. It wasn't long before he returned to keep me company.

“Do you want to cuddle? I’d feel like a whore if I just left”

“Yes, of course I want”

He made sure to throw anything that was on the bed onto the floor and patted the pillows to make them more comfortable. I settled into the space next to him, leaning against his chest, right at heart level.

One of his arms was holding me from behind and in some strange way that made me feel safe; protected.

“Your feet are frozen, are you cold?”

"Not much"

“Do you want me to get you some socks?”

“I’m fine, Spencer,” I laughed softly. I brushed my cheek against his skin and tried to snuggle closer to him. “It’ll just get colder if you leave.”

“Did you know that the human body is incredibly efficient at maintaining its temperature? When two bodies are nearby, like… now,” he paused, settling a little closer to me, “heat transfer occurs due to thermal radiation and direct conduction. Essentially, each body generates heat that helps the other maintain a stable core temperature.”

“So you’re like a human blanket”

“That’s right. In fact, in situations of severe hypothermia, sharing body heat in this way can literally save lives.”

I raised my head to look at him and noticed an excited gleam in his eyes, the one he always had when he shared something from his vast knowledge.

“I’ve been thinking quite a bit about what you said earlier, about female anatomy,” seeing him frown, I continued, “No field of study considers one experimentation enough, right? Everything needs to be replicated two, three, four times. Ten times if necessary.”

“Your guess is quite accurate.”

“Say no more. We must give everything if it is in the name of science”

From the smile on his face, I knew that my joke had pleased him and that my proposal seemed to please him. To seal the deal I reached up and kissed him softly. We remained silent for a while, him caressing me over his own shirt and me enjoying the closeness.

“I like you a lot”

“I had a feeling,” I teased, earning a soft laugh from him “I really like you, too."

He pressed a kiss to my forehead and for some stupid reason a blush crept up my cheeks, even though we had just had sex. I carefully placed myself on top of his body and buried my face in his neck, feeling him hug me around the waist.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, I could tell by how calm his breathing was becoming, and I tried to enjoy the peace he emanated a little longer, until, eventually, Morpheus picked me up in his arms too.

@spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @shuichiakainx @gghostwriter @cafters @weallhaveadestiny @your-left-sock @jaeminsmilk @tmrs-basilisk @kristennotstewart @lostinwonderland314 @f4tpo3s @lortheswiftie @dark-unicorn222 @samsienichole @blackholegladiator @gretaandthatsit @cherrysprlte @halfbloodwriter @piercethefic @reidingandallthat @ariel-23-19 @zorrasucia @ihatethecrowdsyouknowthat @juluina @kylakins88 @tinainaction @sadroses98 @dumbbunnys-safes @bowerfeithwk @freyafriggafrey

Thank you very much for your interest! I hope you liked it, if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)

[motorsportbarbie13]

A Package Deal - Part 3

In which things are made official.

Warnings: smut in the middle. lando being jealous. Pairing: Lando x SingleMom!Reader Word Count: 4.6k words

(a note: happy new year loves!!! hope you enjoy part three!!)

- A Package Deal - A Package Deal - Part 2 - Master List

yourusername (private) posted

yourusername testing testing... BFFSarah so jealous! >>>yourusername miss you! ❤️ landonorris stalker >>>yourusername 😘 >>>BFFSarah 👀

"I'm funnier than Greg, right?" Lando grumbles, not even bothering to take his eyes off of you.

"Mate, what?" Oscar replies, eyes narrowed, totally mystified as to what the hell his teammate is talking about. "Like, Greg, the guy on the strategy team Greg?"

"Yeah, him." Lando raises his chin towards where you stand opposite of said strategy Greg, laughing (even louder this time) at something he's said. Lando knuckles go white on the counter he's standing when Greg leans in just a bit too close for his comfort.

It was the first day of testing in Bahrain and Lando had just come in from his first test stint of the 2025 season. When he'd walked into the garage a few minutes earlier, he'd instantly clocked where you stood near the back of the garage staring up at a few computer monitors beside his newest nemesis, Greg. At first he hadn't thought anything of it but then he heard you laugh, a sound that was quickly becoming one of his favorite things, and he had stopped what he was doing to stare.

"I don't think I know Greg's sense of humor well enough to be the judge of that." Oscar responds, still confused as to why Lando was asking him such a random question. When Oscar follows Lando's line of sight though, everything clicks into place and starts to make a lot more sense.

"Oh..." He mutters, unable to quell the smirk that surfaces.

"'Oh' what?" Lando snaps, still attempting to assassinate Greg with a glare.

"You're jealous." Oscar practically giggles. He might be the quieter one of the driver duo, but that quiet demeanor meant that he noticed a lot more than other people gave him credit for and Oscar had caught onto Lando's crush after the first time he had stumbled into your office and disappeared on him for hours.

Lando finally tears his eyes away from where you're standing, still staring up in rapt attention to Greg. "I most certainly am not." He huffs, crossing his arms over his chest in a move that is very reminiscent of a Stella temper tantrum.

"You two aren't even together, are you?" Oscar reasons, doing next to nothing to reassure Lando that he has nothing to be worried about.

Lando narrows his eyes at the Australian as he fights a pout. "I mean, no. Not technically, I guess."

And that was the problem, wasn't it? You two had been on a few dates and he'd been coming over to your house to hang with you and Stella more and more but a serious discussion of what was happening? He'd been too scared to have that kind of talk with you so quick. You made him nervous but being rejected by you sounded even worse.

"Maybe you should like, talk to her about it then? If that's what you want? I mean, I've never seen the sight of a girl talking to someone else send you into orbit like this before. You really like her, don't you?"

Oscar had worked hard to keep his opinion of you and Lando together to himself. He hated when people commented on his relationship with Lily, which was a big reason why they were so quiet together, so he had made it a point not to press when it came to you. He'd spent most of the morning with you though, while Lando was in the car and he could see why Lando was so attached to you already. You were wicked smart and the program that you had been writing for the team was impressive. He knew there were other people in Lando's life that didn't think the driver could handle being with someone like you but the more Oscar got to know you, the more he could see why you two got on so well.

Lando's gaze slides back to you then. "I do, yeah." He murmurs, a sudden sense of determination settling over him. Before he has the chance to chicken out once again, he pats Oscar on the back and starts off towards where you and Greg are still huddled together in front of a computer screen.

"Greg, can I steal her away from you real quick?" Lando says by way of greeting, his tone needlessly possessive. "Will and I wanted to go through last sessions data with you before lunch." He lies.

You hadn't noticed the way Lando had been staring daggers at you and Greg up until that very moment but the feral look he's giving you takes you by surprise. Greg had approached you as Lando's session had wound down and your new program was stretching its legs on your laptop. He wanted to talk about the inputs you were adding in for this year and give you some feedback on the initial data capture of this morning's session. It was totally innocent and when Lando had slid up next to you practically breathing fire, you had been a bit caught off guard.

"I'll see you at the cocktail party later tonight, Greg." You give him a smile before turning back to Lando. "Where do you want to go, the debrief room?"

"Sure." Lando huffs, giving Greg a fake smile before grabbing your elbow and leading you towards an empty conference room. Like hell you were going to see Gregory at any point for the rest of the day.

You're totally confused at the way he's practically dragging you down the hallway and even more perplexed when Lando nearly slams the door closed behind him and you find the debrief room completely empty. "Where's Will?"

"What?" Lando frowns.

"You said you and Will wanted to go over some data after your session." Annoyance moves through you. What in the world was going on?

"Oh, yeah no. I lied." Lando glares at you like you're the insane one, frown deepening.

"Lando!" You sputter, resisting the urge to chuck the nearest laptop at his head. "I was in the middle of a conversation with Greg."

When he rolls his eyes, you swear you see red. "Yeah, I know. We all saw how endlessly entertaining the conversation was."

The pout that finds it's way onto his face is what unlocks everything for you though. Sudden understanding washes over you as it all finally clicks.

"You're jealous!" You gasp, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of giggles.

Lando at least as the decency to look a bit ashamed of his behavior but attempts to deny it. "I am not."

You arch an eyebrow at the man standing across from you as if he's not the easiest book in the world to read. "Lando Norris, you were jealous of a man who was telling me all about how his boyfriend took him on a trip to the Bahamas over the holidays and got bitten by a wild swimming pig."

The way Lando's cheeks go scarlet as he crosses his arms over his chest nearly has you doubled over with laughter.

"Oh."

"Oh is right, you muppet." You chuckle, using the term of endearment he's become famous for. In a few strides, your within arms length of him, tugging at the waist of his half unzipped race suit. Lando takes a step forward as you pull him closer.

"Jealously looks good on you, Norris." You smirk before giving him a quick peck on the cheek, mindful of the fact that you're still at work.

Lando settles his hands on your hips, drawing you even closer to him, seemingly forgetting that he's still at work. He grins down at you, a flirty glint sparking in his eyes.

"Yeah, well. What can I say? The sight of some idiot flirting with my girlfriend kind of set me off."

Your hands slip around Lando's waist. Heart hammering so fast you're amazed Lando can't hear it, you beam up at him. You'd never experienced the kind of contentment and safety you felt whenever you were with Lando before. He frequently caught you off balance like this and had you feeling like you were a teenager again, still believing in fairy tales and happy endings.

"Girlfriend, huh?"

"That's right." He whispers. The rasp in his voice has you pressing your hips into his, seeking friction from his body.

"Well, since I'm your girlfriend then I guess you’ll be needing this for later tonight." Reaching into the back pocket of your jeans, your fingers find the thin plastic card you'd stashed there to slip into Lando's hand sometime this afternoon.

Anticipation sparks between your bodies as Lando figures out what you've just pressed into his palm. All this time he'd been building up this big conversation that he thought had to be had and nervously putting so much pressure on himself to do this all the right way. It had only taken a matter of seconds though and you had reminded him that it like most everything that happened between you and him, this was easy too. There's a silent understanding that passes between you two then that maybe this was how it was supposed to be from the beginning and that sometimes wires get crossed and we meet people later than the universe intended.

"I have to get back to work and you should really find Will and actually debrief but I think I'd like to skip tonights cocktail hour if that's okay with you."

Lando reluctantly lets go and nods, swallowing around the thick lump of emotion stuck in his throat.

"Yeah." He croaks before reaching back out to bring your face to his, kissing you so intensely your knees buckle. "I'll see you tonight."

Not even five minutes after Lando responds to your text, you hear the beeping of the lock to your hotel room door and it swings open moments later. Anxiety flows through you despite the flirty text you'd just sent. This kind of thing was totally out of your wheel house, with most of your adult life spent focusing on your daughter and not dating. It had been Sarah's suggestion to send that risky text but after your conversation with Lando earlier, you were briefly confident that it would be well received. And judging by his response, you were right. That didn't do much to calm your nerves though so the knock on your door sends the butterflies in your belly flying around in what feels like a category five tornado.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Lando groans when he sees you kneeling on the bed waiting for him. Every thought tumbles straight out of his head at the sight of you waiting for him in nothing but black bits of lace. If he had known this was what had been waiting for him all night, he certainly wouldn't have gone to dinner with some of the team.

"You like it then?" You ask, barely resisting the urge to dive under the covers you feel so exposed under his gaze. Lando can't stop staring and it's starting to make you nervous, the way he's dragging his eyes up and down your body without making an attempt to move from where he stands just inside your hotel room.

"Like it? Baby, are you fucking kidding me? I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sight in my entire life." The rasp in his voice drags down your skin like sandpaper.

"Then stop staring and get over here."

Lando obeys immediately, toeing off his shoes before joining you on the bed. His hands find your hips and before you can make a sound, he's pulling you into his lap and attaching his lips to your neck.

"I think everyone got the impression I was about to be sick or something, I got up from that table so fucking fast." He mumbles against you. "Also, give me some warning next time you're going to send me that kind of thing, Osc nearly got an eye full of something that is for my eyes only."

Lando had been attempting to show Oscar something on his phone when your text had come through and the moment he'd swapped over to his iMessage app he was glad that Andrea had picked that exact second to call Oscar's name. He had shut down the message app so fast, all of his blood rushing straight from his head to below his belt.

"Oops." You giggle. "Sorry."

"You're not one bit sorry, don't lie."

All you do is shrug as you preen under his attention. He eyes drag lazy lines up and down your body, stalling when they fall on the black lace barely hiding your most intimate parts. The heat of his gaze has fire stoking deep in your belly and for the first time in years, you feel desired and wanted. It's an unfamiliar feeling that you're still getting used to but with Lando, it feels safe. You feel cared for and it's unlike anything you've ever experienced with anyone you've slept with before. Which, to be totally honest, wasn't a lot. You haven't been in a serious relationship since Stella's dad, the only dates you've gone on in the last six years usually ending in casual flings that don't end up meaning much outside of the bedroom.

This though? This feels different and you know Lando feels the same.

Lando's hands grip at your hips as he moves you off his lap briefly and stands up. Your eyes nearly roll back into your head when he unbuckles his belt with one hand, tugging it off in one smooth motion, the leather slapping against itself and echoing throughout the otherwise silent room. 

“Jesus.” You breathe and desperately try to catch your breath as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. You've known that Lando has a sinfully good body for a while, his entire career is centered around his body afterall so naturally, he is in amazing shape. There’s a reason that women will do next to anything to get any of the drivers in their bed. Nothing prepared you for the hard planes of his chest and the insane cut of his abs though. The way his waist nips in to show off a deep V cut of his torso makes your mouth water. With both his jeans and shirt now discarded, he stands in front of you in just a pair of gray boxers that do absolutely nothing to hide how rock hard he is.

Fuck. 

Before you can stop yourself, you rise up on your knees and move towards him, needing to get your hands on his body. On your knees before him while he’s standing, you only come up to his collar bones but that’s enough. You drop kisses on his heated flesh and relish the way his breath hitches in his throat when your lips make contact. He allows you to continue kissing him for several moments, his hands roaming all over your body. You don’t know how long it is but after his hands have taken full a full tour of your skin, he pulls back and looks at you with a primal glint in his eyes. “Lay down." He orders "I need my tongue on you. Now.” 

You obey and crawl back, watching him prowl after you. Your head rests on the pile of pillows as he covers you with his body and suddenly, the insecurity and anxiety from earlier flashes through your mind. You've never been with anyone who seemed to want to do anything but fuck you and then be done with it. This reverence for your body is completely foreign and the reality of what is about to happen crashes through the haze of lust that clouds your mind.

You must stiffen a bit because a frown appears on Lando's face as his arms cage you in and he hovers over you. “Baby?” 

You shake your head, refusing to let your insecurity ruin the night. Your eyes close and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

“I’m fine.” You whisper but Lando doesn’t believe you. He drops back onto his knees and straddles you, drawing back so he can see your entire face. 

“What’s wrong? We don’t have to do this tonight if you’re not ready.” 

Your face heats, but from embarrassment this time. Fuck. You do not want to ruin this.

“No. It’s okay. I just…I’m just not used to this kind of attention.” You don’t tell him how your're used to being used for your body, for whatever pleasure your partner can get out of me and nothing more. You don’t tell him how insecure it makes you to think that he could do the same thing to you too, despite how safe and good he makes you feel no matter what. Sometimes, habits are hard to break. Especially habits that are born out of trauma. You can't tell him any of that though because you think it might break his heart. 

Lando tilts his head and seemingly understands what you're saying. “I don’t know what the fuck the guys in your life were thinking, having you in their bed and not treating you properly, but baby, I am not them. This is not about me, this is about you.” His fingers trace long, lazy lines from your shoulder down over your bra and continue down your body as you shudder with pleasure.

“That’s it." He coos. "I know you’re scared but I swear to you, you are safe with me.” His voice is barely a whisper but you can hear the sincerity in it. Your heart thunders in your chest as you hover between wanting to stop and throwing every bit of caution away and allowing him to do whatever he wants to you. 

“I know I am. I always have been.” You hum.

“Do you want to stop? You just have to say the word and we will. This is yours to control.” 

Your eyes search his for any trace of anger and when you find nothing but honesty in his face, you shake your head. “Please don’t stop.”

You desperately do not want him to stop. 

Once he’s sure you're okay, he crashes his mouth on yours once again and you melt into him. His body is so heavy on top of you but it feels oh so good. You never want it to end. You never want tonight to end. Lando presses kisses into your skin all down your body, starting at your jaw, moving slowly downwards. Kisses on that dip between your neck and shoulders, lower to your sternum, even lower to just above where your bra still sits. He stops then and snakes a hand behind you, lifting you up momentarily, and unclasps the back with surprising ease.

“Okay, that was way too easy for you.” You accuse, laughter bubbling up as he tosses the bra across the room. 

His eyes find yours and he shrugs casually, “What?” He feigns innocence, “Lucky first try?” 

“Oh, whatever. Get back to work.” You order, laughter teasing at the edge of your voice. 

Lando shakes his head again, dropping his head back where he had left off and turns his attention to one of your nipples, taking it fully in his mouth. You inhale a sharp breath at the sensation coursing through you. It feels like your skin is on fire, all leading down to a single throb between your legs. He hums in satisfaction when your back arches off the bed. A moan escapes your lips when he scrapes his teeth against the sensitive skin, the pain sends a jolt of electricity straight to your core. After what feels like an eternity, he turns his attention to the other nipple, already pebbled and hard, aching for the same attention. Your mind goes blank as you focus on the jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Your hands tangle in his curls, gripping at the tangles of brown hair, needing something to latch onto. 

“Lan.” His name is a whispered prayer on your lips. 

“Fuck. Baby.” He comes up for air briefly to look at you again and you almost can’t stand to look at him, he looks so good. His lips are swollen from kissing you for so long and he's got this heavy lidded, lustful hazy gaze in his eyes that you've never seen from him before.

“You taste so good.” He rasps before shifting back up to land kisses on your lips. You're so focused on what his lips are doing that you completely miss his fingers digging into your hips. You let out a startled cry when the sound of ripping fabric cuts through the breathy sighs that have filled the room. 

“Lando!” You whine, “I liked those!” You look at the torn bits of black lace that he’s dropped next to him on the bed and sigh dramatically.

“They were in my way. I’ll buy you fifty more tomorrow.” Without waiting for a response, his hand dips down towards your pussy and anticipation climbs in you. You gasp when he sinks not one, but two fingers into the heat between your legs.  Your entire body aches off the bed towards his hand. “Christ. Baby. You are fucking soaked for me, aren’t you?” 

It’s all you can do to just nod an affirmation as he swirls his fingers in achingly slow circles. His thick fingers inch closer to your clit but manage to avoid it and you know he’s doing it on purpose. You wiggle your hips in search of that friction you crave so badly but every time you get close, he moves his fingers out of the way. By the fourth time this happens, you're a whimpering mess underneath him and Lando is clearly enjoying it. “Lando.” You whimper. “Touch me.” 

“I am touching you.” He drops another hot kiss on your jaw and traces his tongue down your neck. You swear you're going to explode from the sensations coursing through your body. 

“You know exactly what I fucking mean.” You snap and move your hips again, only to find his fingers just short of the destination you want them in yet again. 

An evil chuckle tickles your skin. “I like you like this. A pretty little mess underneath me. My girl is so wet for me, isn’t she?” 

His girl. The emotions crash through you at his words and every other thought beyond those two words leaves your brain. 

His girl. 

His girl. 

Your brain chants the all consuming phrase. 

Just when you think you can’t take it any more and you feel that familiar tug at the base of your spine and Lando finally gives you what you've been aching for. The pad of his thumb brushes against your clit and your hips fly off the bed towards his fingers. A cry escapes your lips as you claw at his back. He keeps up the same pace and you can feel yourself barreling towards a delicious release.

“Please. Don’t. Stop.” You pant, breath coming in short gasps as you rock your hips against his hand. Thankfully, he keeps his hand exactly where it is and allows you to grind against it, knowing that this is exactly what you need from him. His lips come down on yours again and when he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, you fly over the cliff.

Sweet release shatters your entire body and you stiffen against him. Your nails dig into his back, leaving little half moons embedded in his flesh. He’ll have red welts there for days and he couldn’t be happier about it. You don’t know how many times you cry out his name but he keeps completely still, allowing you to get the relief that you desperately need against him. 

When your orgasm subsides, you practically melt into the bed, mind too muddled with pleasure to talk. You open your eyes and grin lazily at Lando, who has shifted so he’s lying next to you on the bed. He’s grinning right back and tracing shiver-inducing lines up and down your naked skin.

“Fuck. Lando. That…” You are completely lost for words so it takes you a moment to form a complete sentence, “That was the first time anyones been able to make me come with just their fingers.” 

“Well, I’m glad I could be your first.” He smirks, dropping a kiss on your temple as he pulls you closer to him.

You turn to face him and you're struck at how handsome he is. His curly hair is messy from when you pulled at it while he was getting you off, his eyes glassy with satisfaction even though he hasn’t even come himself yet. He seems to get off just watching you and that is a completely foreign concept.

You reach out and feel the light stubble that covers his jaw, enjoying the rough feel against your fingers. You idly wonder what that stubble would feel like against your thighs and decide that you're just going to have to find out exactly what it feels like soon. That one single thought sends heat flooding through your veins once again and you're surprised. You've never considered myself to be one of those girls that could go several rounds. Usually you were finished after one orgasm, most of the time it was faked anyway. But with Lando laying next to you, you feel like you could do this for the rest of the night. A mischievous grin slips across your face as you reach over and push him back into the pillows.

Before you allow yourself to think about what you're doing, you straddle him and relish in the feeling of his dick that is now nudging against your ass. “I think I need you inside me now.” You tell him and squeal when his pupils blow and he flips you onto your back without warning. 

Hours later, you fall into such a deep sleep you don't notice Lando slip out of bed to get a drink of water from the bathroom. You'd spent the better part of the evening underneath him as he gradually worked you over so good you had lost count of how many times he had made you come.

The mattress dips when he joins you back in bed and Lando is surprised to find that he doesn't want to leave you. Up until meeting you, Lando had been more of a one night stand, never sleep over, kind of person when it came to sex. Getting back into bed with you and pulling you close so he could fall asleep with you tucked next to him was something he never thought he'd want but now that he had it, he knew he'd never be able to live without it again.

When Lando pulls you towards him, you stir a bit, enjoying the way the heat of his body warms your naked skin. You're so fucked out from everything Lando did to your body, your brain is a little sluggish but you turn into him, burying your head deep into his chest.

"You left me." You whine sleepily.

Lando slots his leg between yours, hitching your top leg up over his waist. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispers against your hair. "I needed a drink but I'm not going anywhere."

"I thought you left." In your sleepy haze, the words you probably would've tamped down slip out. "Please don't leave me."

Lando knows you're more than half asleep and probably don't realize what you're saying but something in your words has him feeling you don't just mean for the night. "I'm not going anywhere, sweet girl. Not ever." He whispers, listening to the soft cooing sound you make in response before you drift right back off to sleep.

Tag list: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso @rbv3rstappen @ilovechickenwings @guaaafiiburg @mcmuppet @glitteryturtledeer @mindless-rock @piastei-fvx

[olive-main]

oooo if you’re interested would love to see your take: reader is Azriel’s mate, nobody knows. The inner circle keeps trying to set him up with females (including Elaine & Gwyn). They like reader but don’t view her as an option for being his partner. Lots of angst, she’s hurting, she overhears them saying she’s not an option for him. Up to you what happens for her and Azriel. Loved your last story, and that you wanted more angst ideas!! And if this isn’t what you’re looking for, all good!

Between Us Alone

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: Azriel’s mate overhears a conversation that shakes her confidence in their hidden bond, but he reminds her that love, even in shadows, is unbreakable.

Wc: 1.2k

A/N: Annndddd welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming. This time I come with the gift of some fluff (with angst ofc bcs duh—who do y’all think I am?) Enjoy the happy endings while they last…..evil laugh

Masterlist

——

The corridors of the House of Wind were quiet, save for the faint hum of conversation that drifted from Rhysand’s office. You’d gone looking for Azriel, hoping he might steal away from his “boys’ night” early and join you at your shared apartment.

A secret, the two of you. Hidden in plain sight. Quite fitting for Rhysand’s spymasters.

It was exhilarating at first—the quiet smiles across rooms, the fleeting brushes of hands, and the stolen glances when no one else was looking. But there were cracks now, small fissures of insecurity that made you wonder if keeping the bond private had been the right choice.

Your footsteps slowed as you neared Rhys’s office, voices clear now, though you didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You were about to knock when you caught the sound of Cassian’s boisterous laughter.

“Oh, come on, Az,” Cassian said, his tone teasing. “You’ve been spending all that time with Gwyn. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

“Gwyn’s sweet,” Rhysand added. “And she clearly enjoys your company. You’d make a good pair.”

Your heart clenched painfully, the words hitting you like a physical blow.

Azriel’s reply was quieter, almost unreadable. “Gwyn is a friend. I’m not looking for… that.”

Cassian scoffed. “You say that now, but it’s been centuries, Az. When was the last time you even tried to let someone in? Gwyn’s perfect for you—kind, strong, clever. She gets you.”

“She’s not the only option,” Rhys said smoothly. “There are others. Nesta’s mentioned a few priestesses who would be good matches.”

Cassian nodded in agreement. “There’s also Y/N.”

You pressed your hand to the doorframe, your breaths shallow as you heard Cassian say your name.

“No, I don’t see them together. They rarely speak to each other outside of missions and a few shared words at dinners.” Rhysand says with a shake of his head as if the thought of you and Azriel together was the most unlikely thing he could think of.

You shouldn’t have stayed, shouldn’t have listened, but you couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. They didn’t mean to hurt you—you knew that. You’d always been on the periphery of their circle, a friend but never a true equal in their eyes. Azriel’s shadows had been your sanctuary, his quiet love a solace you cherished.

But to hear them speak so casually, as if you weren’t even a possibility…

Azriel’s voice cut through, firm and unyielding. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker. I can handle my own life.”

“You’re avoiding the question,” Cassian said, clearly amused.

“Drop it,” Azriel snapped, his tone brooking no argument.

The room fell silent after that, but the damage was done. You turned and fled, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step.

—

The space you shared with Azriel was small but cozy, tucked away in a quiet corner of Velaris where no one thought to look. It was your haven, the only place you could truly be yourselves without prying eyes or whispered questions.

But tonight, it felt suffocating.

You sank onto the couch, wrapping a blanket around yourself as the doubts clawed at your mind.

This charade was necessary. You both knew that. If they ever found out you and Azriel had been together for months—years, now—it would complicate everything. Not just for him, but for you.

As Azriel’s partner, you worked in the shadows as he did, your work as vital and delicate as his own. Secrecy was second nature to you both, and you’d agreed early on that revealing your bond—to anyone—was too risky.

You’d thought you could handle it. But moments like this, when they talked about Azriel’s love life like you didn’t exist, like you weren’t his, made you question how much more you could endure.

You told yourself it wasn’t Azriel’s fault. He hadn’t encouraged them. He’d even told them to stop. But the weight of their words lingered, stirring fears you’d tried so hard to bury.

What if they were right? What if Azriel deserved someone like Gwyn, someone who could stand beside him without the need for secrecy?

You didn’t hear the front door open, too lost in your thoughts to notice the familiar sound of Azriel’s footsteps until he was standing in front of you.

“Something’s wrong,” he said immediately, his hazel eyes scanning your face. His shadows swirled around him, restless and sharp. “What happened?”

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing. Just tired.”

His brow furrowed, and he crouched in front of you, his hands resting gently on your knees. “Don’t lie to me.”

The sincerity in his voice nearly broke you. You looked away, your throat tightening as you tried to hold back tears.

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. “Tell me.”

You hesitated, the words sticking in your throat. But you couldn’t keep it in any longer.

“I went to Rhys’s office,” you admitted quietly. “I was going to find you, but… I heard you all talking.”

Azriel stiffened, his jaw tightening. “What did you hear?” He already knew. There was only one part of the conversation that could’ve had you so distraught.

You swallowed hard. “They… they were trying to set you up with someone. Gwyn, mostly. Rhys mentioned others.” You laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “They said I wasn’t even an option.”

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his shadows curling tighter around him.

“They didn’t mean it to hurt me, I know that” you added quickly, seeing how Azriel was ready to go back and pummel his brothers. “They don’t know about us. But… it still hurt.”

He exhaled sharply, standing and pacing the room. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “They had no right—”

“They care about you,” you interrupted. “They want you to be happy. And maybe they’re right. Maybe you’d be better off with someone like Gwyn. Someone who—”

“Stop.”

The word was a command, sharp and unyielding. Azriel crossed the room in an instant, kneeling before you again. He took your hands in his, his grip firm but gentle.

“Don’t you dare doubt this,” he said fiercely. “Don’t you dare doubt us.”

Tears spilled over, and he reached up to brush them away, his touch achingly tender.

“You are my mate,” he said, his voice breaking. “You. Not Gwyn, not anyone else. You are the only one I want, the only one I will ever want.”

“But they—”

“They’re idiots,” he said flatly. “I’ll deal with them. But don’t let their ignorance make you doubt what we have.”

You searched his face, finding only unwavering certainty in his eyes.

“I love you,” he said, his voice softening. “More than I thought I was capable of. And I don’t care if they don’t see it. I see it. I feel it.”

A broken laugh escaped you, relief washing over you like a tide. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he could shield you from the world.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I never wanted you to feel like this. I thought keeping the bond private would protect us, but if it’s hurting you—”

“It’s not,” you said quickly. “Not really. I just… I needed to hear this. To hear you.”

He pulled back just enough to press his forehead to yours. “You’ll never have to doubt me again.”

——

Aren’t they just so sweet *sigh*. Thank you for reading <3

Requests are still open ;)