#but no matter what they always find their way back to each other like when Dean was grieving so hard in

[itsnesss]

hii, i already love your works sm and i was wondering if i could request a jun-ho fic where him and fem!reader search his brother and they can’t keep their hands off of each other? ;) and one day after reader teases jun-ho too much he just fucks her into the bathroom? i’m so sorry if that sounded weird 😭

love ya <333

𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 | hwang jun-ho × fem!reader

summary | the request

warnings | smut, explicit content, tension-filled interactions, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex, slight power dynamics

word count | 2.5 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

The search for his brother has become more than a mission. It has stopped being just a matter of finding him. Every minute by his side, every stolen glance, every shared sigh... makes you forget everything else. The obsession with finding him has given way to a palpable tension between you and Jun-ho. At every corner, every place where they stop, their hands meet by accident, their bodies brush against each other as if it were inevitable. As if there were something beyond the search, something you can't control.

On one of those long and frustrating nights. They had followed a lead about Jun-ho's brother that had taken them to a small town, but the contact never showed up. They ended up in a rundown motel, sharing a room because the budget couldn't stretch any further.

You had tried to sleep, but between the noise of the old fan and the feeling of Jun-ho just a couple of meters away, it was impossible. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, reviewing some papers under the dim light of the bedside lamp, frowning as always.

"You should rest," you said from your bed, your voice heavy with sleep and annoyance. Keep staring at it won't make your brother magically appear.

Jun-ho looked up, clearly irritated, but also a bit tired.

"I can't".

You got up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, crossing your arms.

"You're such a stubborn one, you know?" you joked, although there was some truth in your words. "You always want to carry everything on your own".

"And you always have something to say, don't you?" he replied, his tone sharp but without real anger.

The conversation continued for a while, small jibes that gradually eased the day's tension. But as they talked, the atmosphere changed. There was something different in the way he looked at you that night, something beyond fatigue or worry.

When you stood up to approach his side, intending to snatch the papers from his hands to force him to rest, his fingers brushed against yours. It was a brief, accidental contact, but the heat it generated made both of them freeze, looking at each other in silence.

"What?" you asked, your voice softer, almost a whisper.

He didn't respond. Instead, he set the papers aside and leaned towards you. The moment was so unexpected that you didn't have time to think. His lips met yours, soft at first, as if he were tasting something he had longed for too long. But the kiss soon became more intense, more needy.

His hands moved up your arms, then to your waist, pulling you closer. You didn't resist. On the contrary, your fingers tangled in his hair as the heat in your chest intensified. You were kneeling in front of him, and you felt his heavy breath against your lips when they barely separated for a moment.

"This isn't right," he murmured, though he made no effort to move away.

"Then stop doing it," you replied, challenging him, and kissed him again, losing yourself in the way his body molded to yours.

That night didn't go beyond that. Although his hands roamed your back, your legs, and his lips left a burning trail on your neck, both stopped before crossing a line they knew would complicate everything. But after that, nothing was ever the same again. The casual touches felt more charged, the glances lingered too long, and the desire between you kept growing.

Jun-ho has never been so straightforward, but you know he is as caught up in this tightrope as you are. The nights spent reviewing clues become an excuse to be close, too close, as the hours fade away and the only thing left between you is unresolved desire.

Today is no different. You are in his apartment, a room cluttered with the mountains of papers they have accumulated during the search, and a constant feeling of discomfort that neither of you can ignore. The brush of his hands as he hands you a cup of coffee, the gentle touch of his fingers as he passes you a photo... everything feels magnified.

"What?" Jun-ho asks, raising an eyebrow when you stare for a second longer than necessary. As if you were evaluating every detail of him, every little gesture that only intensifies what you already know.

"Nothing". You shrug, but the mocking smile that forms on your lips says the exact opposite. There's something about him that makes you feel... powerful. As if you could play with him, put him to the test.

"Don't look at me like that."His voice is deeper than it should be, and his gaze darkens, as if he were waiting for one more provocation. And you know it. You know you did it on purpose.

You've seen him hesitate before, his self-control always on the edge, but this time, you can't help it. You know that what is happening between you is more than just a simple attraction. It's a whirlwind of emotions, of confusion, and above all, of something neither of you can ignore.

You don't stop, and neither does he. The tension remains constant, growing as time passes. The brush of his body near yours while you search for more clues sends shivers down your spine, but you can't pull away. You can't stop looking for an excuse to be near him.

Jun-ho walks back and forth, reviewing papers and murmuring something about clues and possible locations. You see him so serious, so engrossed in his detective role, that you can't resist making a comment to annoy him.

"Are you always this intense?" you ask, resting your chin on your hand.

He stops and glances at you sideways, bewildered.

"What do you mean?"

You smile, innocent but with a touch of mischief.

You know, all that frowning, the rigid posture, the constant "I'm solving an important case" face. I wonder if you ever relax... or if you look the same when you're, you know, at other times.

The insinuation in your voice is impossible to ignore. His eyes narrow, and you see his jaw tighten.

"In other times?" he repeats, clearly caught between confusion and challenge.

You shrug, feigning innocence.

"You know, more... private moments. Are you just as intense or do you follow a whole procedure?"

His reaction is immediate. He leaves the papers on the table and walks towards you with determined steps. Before you can get up, he leans over you, his hands resting on either side of your body.

"Do you want to find out?"

You are left speechless, but he doesn't give you time to respond. In a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and takes you to the bathroom.

The feeling of having him so close, his body pressed against yours, gives you goosebumps. The desire you had contained for so long bursts forth in a wave of need.

"Is this private?" he asks, his lips brushing against yours as he unbuttons his shirt.

"Yes," you affirm, your breath quickening.

"Well". He smiles, his eyes shining with a predatory glint. "So yes, I am just as intense at other times... even more so".

And with those words, his mouth meets yours in a passionate kiss. His hands glide over your body, exploring every part of you, while yours cling to his shoulders with need. The bathroom fills with our sounds, with gasps and sighs as we lose ourselves in this long-repressed need.

"Take off your shirt," he whispers in your ear, his warm breath on your skin, and you obey without thinking. It slides off your shoulders and falls to the ground, and before you can speak, your fingers sink into his hair and you pull him towards you again.

"Is this what you wanted?" he gasps on your lips, his fingers climbing up your ribs and rubbing your skin in circular motions.

You stop. The question makes something change in you. It's as if a veil has been lifted, and everything suddenly became clear.

"I want more," you reply, sincere, not caring that he notices what you feel. I want to feel you. I want to make you moan. I want you to be unable to pull away from me.

And his eyes shine. Her gaze turns dark, predatory, and her lips curve into a smile.

"Wow… that's interesting". He nods, his fingers caressing your lips. "Fortunately, I can fulfill your wishes".

And before you can respond, his fingers slide over your pants. The sound of the zipper opening is loud in the silence of the bathroom, and you barely have time to process it before his hands grab your thighs and sit you on the edge of the sink.

"Strip," he orders, his eyes shifting to your pants, and you don't hesitate to obey.

You remove them immediately, and your underwear slips off with them, revealing your naked body. His eyes roam over every part of you, as if it were the first time he sees you, and his breath quickens suddenly.

"You look beautiful" he gasps, his voice deeper now, filled with need. "So beautiful..."

And again, his lips meet yours in a wild, hungry kiss. His hand moves up your thigh and grabs your leg, pressing it against his waist.

"Do you like it?" he whispers, his hand rubbing you. "Do you like what I'm doing to you?"

You nod, and his smile curves again. His fingers touch you in a way that makes your feet go cold and you tense up.

"That's interesting" he pants. "I think I'm going to need a bit more information".

And with his words, a finger begins to penetrate you. The movement is slow, as if he is unsure, but soon, his fingers begin to move in circular motions, penetrating you again and again, and you curl up, wrapping your legs around his fingers.

"Is this better?" she asks, her voice tense with desire.

"Mmm" you respond with a gasp, your fingers gripping his shoulders.

"Mmm what?"

"Yes…" you manage to say, your breath now more rapid. The pleasure is intense, it makes every part of you tense in an exquisite way. "Continue".

And he does it, his finger moving faster and deeper each time. His lips slide down to your nipples and he begins to suck on them, drawing them in with slow movements. The pleasure makes you arch towards him, trying for more, but his hand suddenly stops.

"Is that what you want?" he whispers. Do you want me to touch you?

"Yes, please" you gasp, pleading. "Don't stop..."

And his hand starts to move again. This time it is two fingers that penetrate you, slowly, but increasingly intensely. You arch towards him, with a cry of pleasure.

"And this?" Jun-ho whispers. Do you want more?

"Yes" you manage to respond, every part of you vibrating with pleasure. "Please".

"Please?" he repeats. I like that.

His fingers stop again, but before you can protest, his body shifts position, lowering slowly, and his mouth meets your sex. His lips begin to suck you, licking every part of you with slow, exquisite movements. Your body arches towards him again, trying more, and his fingers penetrate you once more.

The sensation is indescribable. The pressure inside you, the heat in your breasts, the sensation of his lips on you... everything comes together in an intense, exquisite pleasure.

"Jun-ho" you sob, your fingers sinking into his hair. "Jun-ho!"

"What?" he whispers, his eyes fixed on you.

"More... more..." you manage to stammer, trying to describe the pleasure.

And his mouth fills you up again. His lips suck you with strong movements, his fingers penetrating you faster and faster. Your body shakes with pleasure, but his mouth doesn't stop. He sucks you with frantic movements, devours you with the hunger of a man who hasn't eaten in days. His fingers caress you, touch you in the most exquisite way, and suddenly, the pleasure is overwhelming.

"Oh, god!" you moan, your fingers tugging at his hair. "Yes... yes..."

And everything fades away. The pleasure bursts into an intense orgasm, making you arch against his fingers. Your body shakes back and forth, trying to rid itself of the pleasure, but his fingers and mouth hold you there, not letting you go.

Finally, the orgasm fades, and your body collapses onto the sink. His fingers withdraw, and his mouth kisses you gently. Then, a moment later, his arms wrap around you and lift you, sitting you back on the sink.

"I think you're the best meal I've ever had," he says, his smile mischievous.

You smile too.

"You're not bad either" you tell him.

"No?" He approaches you with slow steps. "Does that mean you might want more?".

You smile at him again.

"It depends". You approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist. "What do you have to offer me?"

"Oh, I think I have something you might find interesting…" He nods, smiling. "Do you want to see it?"

You nod your head, and immediately, his fingers begin to lower his belt. He lowers his pants and lets them fall to the ground. And there it is, his member, erect, strong, ready to penetrate you.

"Do you want to try this?" gasps Jun-ho, his breath already quickened. Do you want to feel me inside you?

You smile mischievously.

"Hmm…" you respond. "I don't know, what do you offer me if I try it?"

"If you try it, I promise you'll feel something incredible". His fingers begin to caress your thighs again. "I'm going to make you feel things you've never imagined".

"Hmm…" you whisper. "Well, then it seems fine to me. I'm going to give it a try".

And immediately, you get up from the sink and approach Jun-ho. His arms close around you and push you against the bathroom wall. His eyes fixate on you, shining with intense desire as he leans against you, his member brushing against your core.

"Do you want?" he whispers.

"Yes".You nod your head. "I want!"

And her hips move forward. His member penetrates you in a gentle yet intense manner. The contact is exquisite, making you sigh with pleasure and fall into his arms.

"Is that okay?" she gasps between breaths.

"Hmm... yes" you murmur, your fingers encircling his shoulders. "Continue..."

And his hips begin to move again. His member penetrates you harder, deeper, and with each movement, the pleasure within you grows. His fingers grip your legs, lifting them towards his waist for easier access, and you let yourself go, trying to absorb all the pleasure you can.

"Do you like this?" he whispers again, his breath quickening more and more. Do you like how I touch you?

"Yes... yes..." you murmur, your breathing also becoming increasingly rapid.

"Well —he gasps with a sigh." Then I'm going to give you more... much more...

Her hips start to move again. This time his member penetrates you harder than before, faster. The pleasure is indescribable, it makes your body tense and contract towards him.

"Oh!" you moan between sighs. "Like this!"

"Like this?" he gasps again. "Do you want it like this?"

"Yes... Yes..." you respond, your fingers gripping it tighter—. Yes!

And he doesn't say anything more. His hips keep moving that way, with quick and deep movements. His arms wrap around you, holding you against him, and your fingers clutch his shoulders. The pleasure is increasingly intense, increasingly unbearable, but his body does not stop.

Finally, his breathing quickens too much, each of his movements becomes increasingly rough, and his member begins to pulse inside you.

"God!" she screams, her breath ragged.

And everything suddenly explodes. His member hardens and begins to release his semen into a hot river. His body shakes back and forth, trying to absorb every sensation, and the pleasure makes you let go with a scream. The orgasm is strong, intense, making your fingers grip him tighter and the walls surround him.

Finally, everything disappears again. Her hips come to a stop, her breathing returns to normal, and her arms relax. Her eyes, however, continue to shine. He approaches you and kisses you on the cheek.

"Was it how you wanted it?" he whispers between your lips.

You smile mischievously again.

"Hmm… I think it was better". You slip out of his arms and start getting dressed. "The thing is, I can't have this whenever I want".

He smiles again.

"That's easy to fix" he says, while also getting dressed. I can give you as much as you want.

"I hope so". And immediately you walk away from him, leaving the bathroom without waiting to see his reaction.

"Don't worry, you won't have to wait long," you hear his words behind you, and a smile curves your lips.

[mclacedes]

Father Complex (LH44)

summary: in which lewis is your slightly older boyfriend and it reminds you of your father

wc: 2.5k

warnings: fluffy, angsty, daddy issues (freud mention), bad family dynamics mention

a/n1: i'm obsessed with writing lewis recently so here's a little something... also, sorry for the amount of age gap in this blog, i'm also obsessed with that :)

a/n2: also... HAPPY BIRTHDAY LEWIS

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

A long time ago, a guy named Freud, often dubbed as the father of psychoanalysis, came up with this idea he called "the father complex." Basically, it says that the need for approval from an absent father sticks around into adulthood, leading into some questionable relationship decisions.

You frequently—although sporadically—thought about that when you looked at him: Lewis.

That was the man with whom you found entangled in the hush of summer nights because he kept finding his way into your bed.

That Ferrari driver who's got 7 (or maybe 8) championships under his belt.

The man whose arms held you tight when you sought solace; whose fingers would melt into your skin when your walls wrapped around his flesh just right.

His eyes had seen the world long before yours—16 years before, to be precise. He’d raced through continents, dealt with pressures you could only imagine, and faced challenges that would make most people crumble whilst you were in your mother’s womb.

And yet, here he was, playing his role perfectly and being the boyfriend you had dreamed of for so long—cooking for you, looking after you, making you feel like the most important person in the world.

In those moments, it was as if the years between you disappeared, as if the world outside didn’t exist. All that mattered was the quiet, stolen time you shared, wrapped up in each other’s warmth, letting everything else fade into white noise.

Tonight, Lewis had cooked your favorite meal, a perfect blend of comfort and decadence, all while he indulged in white wine. The rich aroma of garlic and herbs lingered in the air, mixing with the faint scent of the beverage he kept sipping on between stirring the sauce.

He absolutely fell in love with what he had ended up with, and smiled to himself. There was something undeniably satisfying about getting everything just the you liked—the way you always smiled at the meal he carefully plated, the way your eyes would light up when you tasted the flavors, as if it was a secret he only confided in you. And in those moments, when he saw that little spark of happiness in your eyes, it felt like all his worries melted away.

He left the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishcloth, intending to call you for dinner, but the scene in the living room stopped him in his tracks.

Beneath the soft, golden light of his Monaco penthouse, you stood with a glass of white wine in hand, your eyes closed, brows furrowed slightly, and your body swaying effortlessly to the rhythm of the music playing in the background.

You were utterly lost in the song, humming softly and singing along to the lyrics with a kind of reckless abandon. It didn’t matter that you weren’t trained to sing or that your voice wavered slightly here and there. What mattered was the unguarded joy in the moment, the kind of pure, unfiltered expression that made Lewis’ chest ache with something he couldn’t quite name. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so deeply immersed in your own little world, a world that radiated warmth and vulnerability.

A slow, almost involuntary smile spread across his face as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, taking in the sight before him. The way your hair cascaded in soft waves down your back, the way your hips moved naturally to the beat, and how your silk nightgown delicately enveloped your frame—it was all so completely and effortlessly you.

Lewis’ gaze softened, his heart swelling as he took in the scene before him. There was a kind of fragile beauty in moments like this, a glimpse of the unguarded you that felt like a privilege to witness. You weren’t performing for anyone, not trying to impress or hide—you were simply existing, lost in the rhythm of the music and the comfort of the space you shared together.

It hit him, as it often did in quiet moments like these, just how lucky he was. Lucky to know you in ways the rest of the world never would, to be the one who got to see you when the walls came down and the noise of the outside world faded away. These little moments, the kind that seemed inconsequential to anyone else, were what he treasured most. They were what made everything worth it.

He walked deliberately, the soft creak of the floorboards under his barefoot steps betraying his soft approach. When he reached you, he stopped for a moment, simply taking in the way the music seemed to pulse through you, the way the room felt warm and intimate. Without a word, he positioned himself behind you, his presence filling the space just enough to make you aware of him without breaking the magic of the moment.

He gently placed his hands on your hip dips, his touch light but sure. The movement of your body slowed, and you turned your head to look at him, a playful glint in your eyes, the faintest trace of surprise in your smile.

“Oh, hi,” you said, the words slipping out with a mix of amusement and affection.

He smiled back at you, that warm, easy smile of his. “Hello, angel,” he replied, his voice soft and teasing, as if he were enjoying the sight of you in this moment just as much as the music. “Care if I join in?” he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he slid his hands from your hips to your waist, pulling you gently closer.

The music continued to flow around you both, and for a few seconds, you let yourself melt into him, throwing your head back to rest against his chest. The warmth of his body surrounded you as both of you moved in sync, caught up in the quiet connection of the moment. It was just the two of you, the soft flicker of light from the living room lamps dancing on the walls, creating shadows that seemed to mirror the ease between you.

“Dinner’s ready, love,” he muttered, lowering his head closer to yours. His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, the words carrying a softness that made you smile involuntarily. “Made your favorite meal.”

And it was moments like these that reached that fragile part of you that had never fully healed from growing up neglected by your own father. Every time Lewis made it clear that he cared—that he truly listened to your words, that he understood who you are and why you are—there was an ache that would rise in your chest, a bittersweet pang of something you didn’t even know you were starving for.

Every time he loved you, you were transported back to your childhood home, where love was a distant, unreachable thing, locked away behind a thousand doors you could never open. It wasn’t that you were unloved—it was that the kind of love you needed, the kind that wrapped around you with warmth and security, was always kept just out of reach. The love that touched you, held you, saw you. The love that would have made you feel safe. It was always missing.

But with him—with Lewis—it felt like you were being given that love in every little thing he did. It wasn’t just the grand gestures, the moments that shouted “I love you.” It was in the quiet, tender things—the way he made sure you were okay and comfortable, the way he noticed the small things, the way he never made you feel like you were too much or too little. He loved you like he knew exactly who you were, even when you still hadn’t figured it all out yourself.

You tried your hardest to keep it together, but under the weight of it all, you unraveled completely, breaking apart against his chest as if letting go of him might make him vanish into the air.

The tears came fast and unrelenting, sinking in his shirt, but he didn’t flinch or pull away. If anything, he held you closer, his hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles as you let go of everything you’d been holding in. It wasn’t just about the love he gave you now; it was about everything you had missed, everything you had buried, everything you were afraid to admit you needed.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in your storm. His arms tightened around you, pulling you closer, as if to shield you from whatever was breaking inside. “I'm here. I've got you, love. I've got you.”

The steady rhythm of his heartbeat pressed against your cheek, grounding you in the moment, even as your tears soaked into his shirt. You wanted to say something—to explain, to apologize for the way you were falling apart—but the words wouldn’t come.

All you could do was cling to him.

He didn’t rush you. He didn’t ask for an explanation or try to fix what couldn’t be fixed at that moment. Instead, he simply stood there, rocking you gently, one hand tracing slow, soothing circles on your back. His touch was warm and steady, a quiet reassurance that it was okay to feel everything, that it was okay to let him carry some of the weight.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “You don’t have to hold it all in. Just let it out, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”

And somehow, those words—so simple, so full of certainty—broke you even further, because they were everything you’d longed to hear your whole life—words that promised safety, security, and an unwavering presence. Words that no one else had ever said and truly meant.

another two minutes, your sobs began to taper off into quiet hiccups, your breathing still uneven but slowly steadying. You stayed pressed against him, your head tucked under his chin, feeling the warmth of his body seep into yours. The silence between you wasn’t heavy or awkward—it was soothing, the kind of silence that made you feel safe, like you didn’t need to fill the space with words.

Lewis shifted slightly, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head, his thumb brushing gently along your hairline. “You okay?” he asked softly, his voice low and careful, as though speaking too loudly might shatter the fragile peace that had settled over you both.

You nodded against his chest, not trusting your voice just yet. His fingers lingered in your hair for a moment longer before he leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so he could meet your eyes.

“I hope you know you don’t ever need to hide with me, right?”

You pulled away enough to look back at him. There was no judgment in his expression, no pity—just quiet understanding. It was as though he could see every crack in your armor and chose not to comment, but instead, to hold you together without saying a word.

Your lips parted, but the words caught in your throat. You could only nod again, the weight of his gaze anchoring you.

One of his hands moved to your cheek, caressing it as he looked back at you with nothing but love glossing over his eyes.

“You’re safe with me,” he said, his voice soft but steady, like a promise he intended to keep forever. His thumb brushed away the remnants of your tears, and the warmth of his touch settled deep in your chest, easing some of the ache. “Whatever it is, whatever you’re feeling, you can let it out. I’m not going anywhere.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, drawing strength from his presence. The way he stood there, unwavering and patient, made you feel seen in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be.

“I know,” you finally whispered, your voice trembling but sure. “I know.”

And you did. You knew it with every part of you, even the parts that still resisted the notion that someone could love you this completely, this unconditionally.

For a moment, you just stayed like that—his hand on your cheek, your bodies close, the world around you quiet and still. The scent of him—clean and warm, tinged with the faintest hint of the cologne he always wore—was comforting in a way that made you want to stay in his arms forever.

“I didn’t mean to fall apart like that,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “It’s just…sometimes it’s hard to hold it all together.”

Lewis’ lips curved into a gentle smile, and he tilted his forehead to rest lightly against yours. “You don’t have to hold it all together, love. Not with me. You’re allowed to fall apart. I’ll catch you every time.”

The sincerity in his words made your throat tighten all over again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain—it was from the overwhelming sense of safety and love he gave you, love that wrapped around you like a protective cocoon.

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if trying to transfer some of his strength to you. “Come on,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to take your hand in his. “Dinner’s going to get cold, and I worked way too hard on that sauce for it to go to waste.”

You laughed, a small, shaky sound, but it was genuine, and you saw the way his face lit up in response. It was as though your laugh, however small, was all he needed to feel like everything was right in the world.

He led you to the dining table, his fingers laced with yours, and pulled out your chair for you before settling into his own. The meal he had prepared was as perfect as you expected it to be, every detail thoughtful and deliberate, just like him.

As you ate, the conversation flowed easily, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones, the way it always did with him. By the time you finished, the heaviness in your chest had lessened, replaced by the quiet comfort of knowing you weren’t alone.

Later, as you lay together in bed, his arm draped protectively around you and your head resting on his chest, you felt something shift inside you—a small but powerful realization.

With Lewis, you didn’t have to be perfect. You didn’t have to have it all figured out. You didn’t have to hide the parts of yourself that felt broken or messy or incomplete. With him, you could simply be.

A long time ago, Freud coined the term "father complex”.

You thought about that when you were laid in Lewis’ chest at night.

Freud suggested that the need for approval from an absent father often lingers into adulthood, shaping questionable relationships

Yet, with Lewis, it didn’t feel like a need or a wound being tended to—it just felt right, as though for once, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

And that, you realized, was the kind of love you had been searching for all along.

[keferon]

At least when Swerve is there, Blurr doesn’t have to be entirely alone. But sometimes it feels like that doesn’t matter — isn’t enough. And tonight, tonight had been one of those nights.

——————————————

Swerve collapses back against the wall as he returns from his holoform to his frame. He’s glad Jazz and Prowl no longer feel the need to be on standby while he holoforms. Is glad there is no one here that he needs to put on a show for. No one to have to pretend everything is fine for when everything is anything but fine.

Swerve had never intended to stay on Earth as long he did. He certainly hadn’t planned on going back.

Only, now that he knows what’s going on, he can’t look away.

He’s gone back. Again. And again. and again….

Each time Swerve has watched Blurr. Watched the way he falls apart and puts himself back together, plastering over the cracks in his image until the surface is flawless, only for the plaster to dissolve and the cracks to show through again the moment the man is alone.

It hurts. Watching hurts — sometimes more than Swerve can bear.

It hurts knowing that no one else, apart from Swindle, knows what Blurr is going through. None of the other pilots know what Blurr is doing for them — how much he’s sacrificing.

Realizing that Blurr barely lets Swindle in, lets Swindle help, and even then the pair of them are keeping up a pretense — hurts.

(And despite it all Swerve can’t help but feel oddly grateful to Swindle, as strange as that thought is.)

And Swerve wonders whether even Swindle really knows. Because there are limits to what Blurr lets Swindle see.

It’s clear Blurr has no one he can trust to help carry the burden that he’s carrying. No one to ask for help. No one to share his pain with.

Swerve never realized until he started watching Blurr just how lonely and isolating fame could be. And so he’s kept going back. Even though it hurts. Because at least when Swerve is there, Blurr doesn’t have to be entirely alone.

But sometimes it feels like that doesn’t matter — isn’t enough. And tonight, tonight had been one of those nights. Bad. Worse than bad. Because tonight the cracks had split open. Swerve had heard Blurr muttering in his sleep. “Two down left down straight two down left down straight two down….” Sometimes stumbling over a word, sometimes forgetting. Faster and faster, as his hands had twisted around the sheets of the hospital bed.

And Swerve had left. Left as he had left Blurr when the man was dying. He had done nothing. Could do nothing. Even as he was probably the only one that knew the full significance of what those words meant.

Waking up from his holoform hurts. Hurt more than waking up from the realization that Blurr was not the perfect figure Swerve’s imagination had crafted. Because this time, Swerve’s waking up to the realization that life’s been going on around him the whole time while he’s been busy pretending to dream.

None of this is what Swerve intended. None of this is what he wants. Only none of that matters. Because he can’t go back and change what’s already happened. Because he’s still failing to find a way to be anything more than a passive observer to the present.

And it hurts even more that, knowing what he knows now, Swerve can believe only too easily that this is what Blurr’s been doing all along. Maybe the flaws, the cracks in the perfect image have always been there. Always hidden from the public eye. Only visible when Blurr knew no one was watching. When Blurr was able to let the mask slip and let his guard down.

Only now under stress and pressure the cracks have gotten wider — more obvious. And it’s obvious that it’s taking more and more out of Blurr each time to keep covering them up, keep pretending that everything is fine when it so clearly shouldn’t be.

At least this time Blurr isn’t dying.

Though sometimes, Swerve wonders.

Physically, Blurr is alive.

But watching this show, Swerve wonders if Blurr isn’t still dying a little internally.

And the worst is there’s nothing Swerve can do but watch. Again. Except this time he knows it’s real. He’s never felt so damn helpless.

And Swerve is starting to feel like a part of himself is dying alongside Blurr as he watches.

Oohho the tasty crunchy angst for dinner today hhmmmmmkfjfjfkdlodidu

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris)

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy". note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons. Also, this story is angsty with a happy ending - it does not contain any smut or suggestive themes. [A/N: This is my first SMAU and hooooooly shit did I totally underestimate how much work it is, and how things work within Tumblr to make it look alright. If you have any tips, let me know lol. I had to split it up in pieces, but i've got all the content written out already, so will be updated soon with the next part!]

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

December, 2025

February, 2026

[Excerpt from red carpet interview at the Grammy's with Y/N]

How are you feeling tonight? You're up for 3 awards, one of them Album of the Year for All I Ever Needed - that's huge!

"It's so overwhelming, to be honest."

Even when you've gone through this experience before? This is your fourth time attending, second time as nominee.

"Yeah, maybe even more so! It's a great chance to hang out with friends and meet new people, but it's also really prestigious still. Being nominated - I try to act like it doesn't matter, because awards always involve politics too - but at the end of the day, you do want it."

And who're you most looking forward to seeing tonight?

"Honestly? I came alone tonight, so I can't wait to find Sabrina [Carpenter] and Jade. I'm gonna need my girls."

Your friend Miley is also up for an award tonight in the same category, what's that like?

"Ha, if the Grammy's do the right thing tonight she'll win it - I know I voted for her!"

You'll also be performing one of your songs - Ruin My Life, can you tell us a bit about what to expect?

"I really wanted this to be visually interesting, but it took me a while to get the right concept for it. I think it's because to me this album and song already feel sort of far removed, and lived in? I'm in a different phase of my life right now, so I had to find a new way to still connet to it. I was really grateful to work with a great art director to bring a different version to the stage."

March, 2026

July, 2026

[SkyNews excerpt]

Lando Norris wins Silverstone GP, dedicates his 20th podium win to his family

The man of the hour is none other than Lando Norris, who’s just gone on to claim his 20th victory at his home race. You’re reading that right, his home race! While he still owns his apartment in Monaco, Norris revealed today that he’s been living back in England for the past few months. “I just wasn’t in the right headspace anymore and wanted to live closer to my family. Especially now that my brother’s kids are growing up, I just like knowing I could drive over – rather than having to fly across countries.”

Speaking on the importance of his family being present, Norris shared that it means everything to him. “In this sport you need to have skill, talent, trust and investment from your team, but also you need that stable sense of safety from the people you love. If your mindset isn’t there, you can’t be competitive.”

Norris has been vocal about mental health in the past, and has advocated for more access to mental healthcare facilities and professionals across motorsport.

“Especially in tougher years where there’s just a lot of noise and turmoil, it’s nice to have a professional coach you to mental fitness as well.”

It was the only notable reference to Norris’ private life, which ended on a low note last year after splitting from long-time girlfriend y/n l/n. The two were originally thought to have had an amicable split, but recent reports hint at a different story, with Norris unfollowing his ex and her friends unfollowing him in return.

August, 2026

September, 2026

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

Part II can be read here! likes, comments, reblogs are always very much appreciated ♥

[svgarseason]

𖹭 cw: breifly explicit, smut, fluff, angst

══════════════𖹭 MINORS DNI 𖹭═════════════

PT 1 ⋆ PT 2 ⋆ PT 3 ⋆ PT 4 ⋆ PT 5. PT 6 [SOON]

English professor Nanami is just so good to you. When you first started as his TA he welcomed you to use his office any time. It quickly became a refuge for you, a quiet place where you could be surrounded by little pieces of him.

His walls are mostly covered with the various degrees and honors he has collected over the years. There are a few personal touches as well. In an obscure corner behind his desk is a poster of a theatrical production that theater professor gojo somehow convinced him to cameo in. (He refuses to divulge any details regarding this.) Framed on one of the many bookshelves that line the wall is a photo of a sunset beach, a couple of souvenir conches bookending it. Somewhere warm he likes to go on vacation, he tells you with a serene smile.

You find it surprising that there are no family photos. No pretty wife, no cherub-faced babies. No ring on his finger. You wonder how that's possible, because he is just so perfect. You wonder if he sleeps around. He is young for a Professor, after all. But he just doesn't seem like the type.

At first, you thought you'd never be able to stop blushing and stuttering every single time you spoke to him, but Professor Nanami was always quick to let you know how highly he thinks of you. Even if his compliments were academic in nature. They came in his clipped, professional tone, stated matter-of-factly as if there were no debate. Somehow, that made it even better.

Even better than that is the fact that he genuinely seems to enjoy your company. Professor Nanami is not exactly known for his sense of humor, but his smile seems to come out easily for you. The conversation flows so easily between the two of you. You were surprised at how quickly the two of you had gotten comfortable around each other. It felt like a friendship, although you both maintained an appropriate distance, of course.

Professor Nanami is professional, so straight-laced and immaculate, that you are sure he would be horrified to know how his innocent little touches, though few and far between, get you absolutely soaked. You remember the first time. You had been making him nervous on the stepladder in the library, so he layed his palm along the small of your back. It was the lightest of touches. Just in case. It did absolutely nothing to steady your legs, quite the opposite.

When you got home that day, you walked right past your idiot boyfriend, who was screaming into a headset in front of the TV, again. You went straight to the bedroom and buried your fingers in your aching cunt. You tried not to think of him that way, but you just can't help it. "He doesn't have to know," you tell yourself, and you vow that he never will. No one will.

Your boyfriend could tell something was up, however. He knew something was different ever since you took the work-study position. He tells you not to let it get to your head, they offer those jobs to poor kids out of pity. When you spend more and more of your time in Professor Nanami's office, he straight up accuses you of fucking him. The fight gets so bad that you pack a bag and leave. Not wanting to bother any of your friends late at night, you end up sleeping on the couch in Professor Nanami's office.

It wasn't so bad. You stayed there a couple of nights now. It was preferable to having explain your relationship problems to any of your friends when you were still trying to sort out what to do. You set an alarm so you could be sure to get out before Professor Nanami arrived. You showered at the campus gym and met him as if you were coming in from home, as always.

This morning, however, your alarm didn't go off. When your heavy eyelids flutter open, Professor Nanami is standing in the doorway, still wearing his coat and holding his briefcase.

The two of you stare at each other silently for what feels like an eternity.

"Are you sleeping here?" He asks as he closes the door behind him. His tone and expression are as infuriatingly unreadable as ever.

You nod and chew at your lip nervously. "I'm sorry I know I-"

"You can't sleep here," he says, stern and final. And suddenly, you feel very stupid for believing that the two of you might have been more than mentor and student, boss and employee. You feel very stupid for believing that you might have been friends.

[arcanarix]

f!sorcerer reader, dubcon, stalking, possessiveness, harassment (there will be a non sorcerer reader version)

bully!satosugu aren’t your average bullies. they aren’t bogged down each time you ignore their attempts at getting under your skin. they know you’re smart and know better… but so are they and they do too. and maybe they’re less interested in breaking you down more than simply getting to know you :)

(but they need to understand you aren’t your average target. you can and will stand up for yourself. you don’t show much interest in general and that just baffles them.)

bully!satosugu…who aren’t the kind to dominate the small world of jujutsu tech one because there’s no reason for that or anything to gain from it either but they are instead viewed as just two boys sharing the same brain cell. shoko and utahime tell you not to pay them any mind; they’re just two dumbasses with an overinflated sense of importance being speshul grades. nanami even reiterates the fact. plus they annoy everyone, so it’s not like you’re a special case here.

bully!satosugu who get all up in your space and in your business, ignoring your protests when they snatch your books and notes out of your hands and lap and geto’s scooping you into his strong hold instead.

“why’s a grade 3 sorcerer wasting her time? trust me, we have better things in mind for a pretty thing like you,” geto purrs.

“and besides, what use is a grade 3 in the field when the two strongest can just take care of everything? hmmmm?” gojo taunts while fiddling with a stray strand of your hair.

instead of seeming intimidated, you’re just annoyed that your work has been disrupted. you don’t give them an outward reaction, just a deadpan, “if you don’t let me go i’ll use my curse technique to castrate the two of you.”

that seems to work for now!

bully!satosugu who…for some reason hover over you like they’re your bodyguards yet you treat them as if they’re not there the entire time. even if gojo can usually annoy someone to the point of tears, you don’t react, instead you’re able to completely tune him AND geto out.

how… Unnerving! Perplexing?

bully!satosugu who HATE to see you divert your attention to anyone else be it nanami or haibara or even shoko and utahime. something sets them off when you giggle a little too hard at some off hand deadpan remark nanami makes, you keep making eyes at him like you like him and not them. what’s up with that? and then they see nanami resting his hand on your thigh……….

and shooting a glare their way, as if to ward them off of you or else? wha?

bully!satosugu who aren’t keen on the idea of you trying to have a life outside of them (you never wanted a life with them from the start, but you digress) so they corner you in one of the empty lecture halls. you tell them you don’t know what they mean. in fact you insist, because you really don’t understand (or really care either). you have no regard for them, but they seem to hold so much interest in you and they don’t like that you don’t appreciate their attention so you had to get it instead from fucking NANAMI.

setting your book on your lap, you meet their accusatory gazes with disinterest.

“i don’t have to entertain any of this,” you remark, “i’m not interested in engaging in something like this when we’re in an environment where we’re forced to coexist. i will acknowledge you as my peers but nothing more.”

thinking you have the last word, you get up and brush past them, but geto grabs your wrist and twists you around. you grunt.

“maybe we have to show her why she should want us by her side, satoru,” he suggests in a low, dangerous tone.

“will she actually learn this time, though?”

“oh, it doesn’t matter. we can always repeat the lesson until she understands,” geto yanks you toward him until your back hits his front, your breath hitching as you feel a growing erection through his baggy uniform.

“you both might find better payoff deepthroating each other,” you scoff.

geto’s nostrils flare at that.

“such a foul mouth,” he snarls, "better watch that tone with us."

“yeah,” satoru pitches in, inching closer with a little smirk. “maybe we ought to plug it up.”

TBC???

[mandarinmoons]

omg i love ur account soo bad, i would rlly like to read about Spencer being jealous of Derek, for the reader to comfort him and try to help with his insecurities, lowk sad ik but pleaseee 🙇🏻‍♀️

Spencer sighed as he watched Derek from afar, talking to a group of women. Each of the girls seemed to be entranced with what the man in front of them was talking about, one of them playing with her hair while the other one kept biting her lip which turned into a not so subtle smirk over time.

Spencer hadn’t had the best luck with women, he had a few take interest in him over time, but it never grew into something serious. He blamed himself for not being the archetype of a man girls would usually want from what he saw and no matter how hard he would try to be more appealing, it just wasn’t him and he wouldn’t be able to keep up the facade for too long.

“What’s on your mind, boy wonder?”

Spencer blinked his eyes as you walked over to him and brought him out of his thoughts. Spencer wondered if he should tell you what’s on his mind or would it be something he would eventually get over after some time. It was hard to hide anything from you though, the sparkle in your eyes made Spencer crack and he’d always tell you whatever it was he was thinking of, you had never judged him for it as well, so he had his answer.

“Y/N, be honest, is there anything about me that’s… unattractive?”

“What do you mean? I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“Really?”

You nodded as you took a seat next to Spencer, your hand reaching out and thumb running across the back of his hand. Spencer wasn’t one for physical touch, but whenever you showed it it put him at ease.

“Where is all of this coming from?”

“I look at Morgan at times, the way he talks to women, how he presents himself, the way he is basically and I don’t know I just… wish I could be that way.”

“I’ve always liked the way that you are. Men similar to Derek put me off at first, it makes me feel like they have other intentions, but when we first met only minutes in and you were talking about the differences between plant and human cells and I thought that it was really fascinating.”

Spencer chuckled as he remembered the day you both had met. He was scared that he had messed up his first interaction with you and that you would stay clear of him whenever you would come across in the bullpen, but you did the exact opposite. You’d always take time out of your day to go talk to Spencer, even if it was the most random subject someone could think of, but you never regretted it and kept coming back for more.

“There are people out there that adore people like you Spencer and I’m proud to say that I’m one of them. Plus, I think you’re cuter than Derek.”

Pressing a kiss to Spencer’s cheek, his eyes went wide as you waved goodbye and he watched you return to your desk, a slight bounce in your step as you strode across the room.

Spencer chuckled as his eyes met the floor, somehow your words set him at ease during times he needed it the most. He didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone like you in his life, but whatever it was he was sure he’d do it a thousand times again to have even one more conversation like this.

You can find my masterlist here!

Let me know your thoughts in the comments and like & reblog to support <3

[ennabear]

✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆

I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …

cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+

word count: 7.3k

it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.

all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.

they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.

no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.

and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.

still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.

that they die on the streets.

so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.

most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.

in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.

here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.

there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.

so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.

the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.

every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.

she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.

ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.

and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.

she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.

she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.

but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.

——

if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.

the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.

she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.

it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.

sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.

sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.

a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.

she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.

while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.

recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.

but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.

“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”

she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.

but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.

the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.

“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”

“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”

mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.

it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.

mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.

“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”

they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.

she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.

and this makes sevika feel horrible.

it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.

“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”

sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.

the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.

“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”

sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.

mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.

but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.

sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.

“yes?” sevika asks.

“you’re brave.” mel says.

“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”

mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.

“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”

sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”

“do you miss it down there?”

“what do you think?” sevika grunts.

“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”

“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”

“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.

“i’ll pass.”

“i could help you.”

“i don’t need—”

“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.

“help me how?” sevika asks.

“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”

“okay… maybe.”

“okay, good.”

——

sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.

it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.

the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.

but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.

she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.

“you like the stars?” mel asks.

“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.

“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.

“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.

mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.

“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.

“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.

“i think i should go.”

“already?” mel asks.

“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.

“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.

“yes?”

“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”

mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.

“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”

sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.

it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.

“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.

“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”

“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”

“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.

“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.

“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.

“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.

“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”

“will you stop by later, then?”

“are you gonna make me?”

“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”

“alright, see you later then.”

——

sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.

mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.

she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.

mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.

they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.

mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.

“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.

“yeah?” she smiles.

“will you dance with me?”

“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.

“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”

sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?

mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.

“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.

“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.

“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.

sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”

it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.

“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”

“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”

sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.

mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”

sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.

mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.

one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.

little does she know, that feeling is called love.

she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.

mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.

“can i?” sevika asks.

mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”

sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.

the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.

best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.

mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.

sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.

she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.

“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”

sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.

but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.

sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.

“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”

——

it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.

they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.

but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.

“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”

“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“can i at least see what you’re working on?”

“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”

sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.

back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.

“mmmmh?”

“i have a present for you.”

“hmmmm?”

“wake up so you can open it.”

“ughhhhh.”

“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.

she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.

“open it and see!” mel smiles.

so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.

“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.

it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.

“do you like it?” mel asks.

“i love it.”

“will you teach me how to put it on you?”

“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.

mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.

“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.

“what is it?” she asks.

“come outside and look.”

sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.

“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.

“okay, now open them.”

she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.

it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.

it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.

sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.

she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.

“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”

“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”

“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.

“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”

sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.

“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”

“and that is…?”

“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.

“now? but you just painted me.”

“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”

sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.

“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”

sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.

“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”

so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.

“is this comfortable?” mel asks.

“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.

mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.

“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”

“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.

“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”

“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.

“okay, let me know if you need a break.”

mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.

her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.

her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.

her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.

she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.

and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.

and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.

she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.

sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.

“do you wanna see it?” she asks.

“you’re done already?” sevika replies.

“yeah. you’re an easy model.”

“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.

mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.

and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”

“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”

“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.

“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”

and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.

[7ndipity]

Their Love Languages

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: What the members main love languages are(both giving and receiving)

Warning: none, I think

A/N: First off, I'm so sorry for not posting much the past few weeks, I'm really hoping to get back to posting regularly again, but thank you all for your patience and understanding. A big thanks to @universal-travel-er for requesting this, I hope you like it!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Jin: Giving: I think it’s a mix of Gifts and Quality Time. He seems to take a lot of delight in giving the members gifts, however odd some of them might seem(gold toilet brush lol). He also understands the importance of being with the people that matter most, so he definitely makes spending time together top priority(He literally planned a entire event at Lotte world so he could hang out with Army for the day)

Receiving: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. He’s an introvert at his core, but spending time with the select people that he feels most comfortable with means the world to him. Even if you’re doing separate things, just being able to spend time existing in each other's proximity makes him happy. Also, I just feel like his constant plays for complements(I look handsome, right?” “Whaa! Have you ever seen someone play this well?!”) aren’t entirely for the joke. He really does crave them, they give him an instant boost of confidence like nothing else

Yoongi: Giving, there’s no question that his main love language is Acts of Service, we’ve seen it from him making food/snacks for his members, checking in on trainees, even just playing along with little requests from fans during livestreams. It warms his heart like nothing else to be of service to those around him. I also think he’s really big on words of affirmation. He’s always praising others in his soft, gentle way.

Receiving: I think it’s the same two, plus Quality Time. He appreciates acknowledgement of his efforts and someone who’ll look out for him as much as he does for them. He also values his free time greatly, and so someone making a conscious effort to dedicate time for him means a lot to him. Similar to Jin, you don’t even have to necessarily be doing the same thing, so long as you’re together(all those fics about hanging in his studio are onto something, tho I think he avoids working when he’s with his S/o)

Hobi: Giving: Gifts! He loves treating his members and loved ones to little surprises, whether that's with a simple coffee/dinner or some super elaborate gift(like when he made Jimin a physical copy of his song ‘Promise’ with a proper album booklet and everything). It makes him so happy to be able to provide for his loved one in some way, and he really loves finding special, unique things to show that he cares.

Receiving: He seems to really glow from Words of Affirmation, he loves having his efforts acknowledged and receiving praise. Acts of Service also seems to be a big one for him, The way he gets soo excited whenever one of the members comes by during a mv shoot or helps him with something(Jimin killing the bug for him during In The Soop lol), it makes him so happy to know that people actually want to help him too, not just the other way around.

Joon: He’s mentioned before that one of his love languages is Words of affirmation, both giving and receiving. He really values verbal expressions of affection and encouragement, and so he tries to give that back to those around him. Another big one for him as well is Quality Time. He’s very much an extrovert and knows the importance of spending time around those that you love, so he definitely makes an effort to be there for them as much as possible.

Receiving: Same as above. Having someone to just sit and talk with him about whatever soothes his heart like nothing else. It doesn’t matter if it’s a super deep topic or not(though knowing him, it’ll inevitably turn philosophical lol), just having someone spend time with him means the world to him. And that goes hand in hand with Words of Affirmation. As I said before, he really values verbal connection and encouragement, so genuine compliments or words of positivity makes his heart so happy

Jimin: For Giving, it’s definitely Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation. He’s very much a care-er, everyone who spends more than two minutes with him talks about how helpful and generous he is. He’s always making sure those around him are taken care of and encouraged in whatever it is they’re doing, or giving comfort if he sees someone struggling. Even in the military, other soldiers have shared how he treats them to food or gives up his phone time for them. He just wants to make sure everyone’s looked after and taken care of.

Receiving: Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. We’ve all seen how physically affectionate he is with the members and his friends, he takes an immense amount of joy and comfort in physical contact, even if it's just a simple touch on his hand or shoulder. He also absolutely lights up whenever he receives praise, and really cherishes every piece of encouragement that he receives.

Taehyung: Giving: Words of Affirmation, He thrives on praise, and he also gives the same out to those around him happily. He’s always giving words of encouragement to the people around him. I’m reminded of him cheering on the crew in the middle of a sandstorm during the Yet To Come video shoot, and when a fan mentioned how she was joining the military because she wanted to help her family, and he told her that she was already helpful and valuable just by existing. He loves to lift up and encourage those around him through his words

Receiving: It should come as a shock to no one that his main languages are Words of Affirmation and Physical Touch. Look at the way that boy’s face lights up when someone compliments and try to argue with me. He absolutely thrives on praise. He’s talked about how he would work extra hard on choreo because he wanted praise from Hobi. He is also one of the biggest cuddle bugs I’ve ever seen, he’s always seeking out hugs and physical contact from the members or his friends, and this would only become more intense with his S/o.

Jungkook: Giving: Quality Time and Words of Affirmation. He seems to really put high priority on spending time with his loved ones as a way of making them feel seen and appreciated(yes, I’m still crying over his surprise weverse live, don’t touch me😭). He’s also always more than ready to give out compliments and words of encouragement to anyone around him, especially if he notices someone having a tough time.

Receiving: Quality Time, Words of Affirmation, and Physical Touch. Tbh I could’ve put all five languages for Kookie, he thrives on all forms of love and affection. The members have mentioned how easily sad he gets if he’s not included in things, he’s at his happiest when he’s with his people. He tends to be rather hard on himself, so he really relies on and takes a lot of comfort from praise and words of encouragement. He’s also mentioned how he really craves Physical Touch as a way to feel connected to his loved ones.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @feminympho @classicalelephant @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard @bo0ghol @seleneacyoflove @k4ngelz @universal-travel-er

[chrypir]

FOR THE BEST

in which two past lovers meet again when they needed each other the most. 🎐

after 2 years of letting go the dream she once lived Yu Jimin now faces the hard time of living a life she doesn’t deserve. as she navigates through herself and her emotions she stumbles back apon Choi Su Bong. a childish man that she once called hers. however, now unable to call their relationship something in the present, the two split due to difficulties in life. but a man in a suit and a silly offer to play some games can change everything for these two.

hi everyone! this is my first fanfic so i hope you guys enjoy! this will be chapter one and i’ll try to send more chapters asap! this is a past lovers fic with angst and a hint of smut eheh, but this will be a choi su bong x oc fic since i dont really like doing xreader fics hehe. but i might do one in the future who knows! nws enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: the lies i tell myself

YU JIMIN

“Uhm excuse me?”

I felt a light tap on my shoulder, turning around a small kid came eye to eye with me. “Yes can I help you?” I was exhausted, working here in a children’s play area was not for the weak. The amount of shit I had to clean up (literally), the moms coming an hour later to pick up their kids, and don’t get me started on the married fathers hitting on me. “Unnie can you help me find my toy? I think I lost it in the area over there..” I let out a sigh, ‘It doesn’t hurt to help a kid out..’, I thought to myself. “Sure kiddo, just lead me to where you think it might be.” I crouched down and ruffled his hair.

-

“You sure it’s here?” It’s been 15 minutes and I’ve been scrambling through the ball pits to find a car toy for the kid. My knees were about to go numb. “Oh unnie!” I turned around, sweat dripping through my forehead, it was a hot day already and going through thousands of plastic balls did not help. “Yes?” I replied. “It was in my pocket the whole time!” My a small smile formed, “Was it now huh?” I teased him, standing back up as I told myself he’s just a kid. “I’m really sorry for bothering you…” My smile faded as the little boy looked down. “Hey it’s alright! I can be kind of careless with my stuff too. No biggie!” I send a reassuring smile to the kid, hoping it was able to make him feel less guilty.

An hour later I closed up the shop and started my way to the race track. “Ajussi, mind turning the power on?” “Isn’t it past your bed time?” “Just turn the power on.” I laughed. Ending the day by going on the race track was always something I looked forward to. Putting on my gear I signaled the ready sign and waited for the track to be complete. As I close my eyes I felt the breeze of the wind. Gripping onto my steering wheel.

As soon as the gun went off I let go of everything and drive.

-

“Aigoo, look how skinny you are now. Here I bought some jjajangmyeon. Let’s eat” “You’re my favorite ajussi!” I giggled as I wiped the sweat off of my face. “So, how’s the investigation? Have they found her yet?” I sighed, disapointment plastered all over my face. “No, they say it’s gonna be harder since the last time I was with her she was still a baby.. But I’m sure they’ll find her someday.” As I chew the noodles in my mouth all the negative feelings start coming back, and without knowing tears start to build up in my eyes. “Hey, hey,” I look up at the old man, feeling his hand cover my own, “They’ll find her.” he reassured with a smile. I look at him without saying anything, my eyes still teary. I smile. It was great having someone to still lean onto. Someone I could still find positivity from during dark times.

Money was growing tighter, my fairytale of a life was taken away from me, I didn’t have any hope for life at some point. I remember walking up to the bridge to jump. I was so tired. So tired of how everything was being taken away from me one at a time. Until this Old Man caught me. The way he stood by me no matter what. Gave me a place to live, fed me, and took care of me. Coincidentally he was an owner of a race track, however it wasn’t being used so as soon as I came in it was mine to borrow.

Looking at the old man as he continued eating I smile, “Ajussi,” he looked up, “thank you.” “Aigoo just eat your noodles.” I laugh, and the world grew quieter.

CHOI SU BONG

“Ya, Choi Su Bong!”

Fuck this bitch is killing me. As I stepped out of the apartment my head was aching. Alcohol was still in my system and I wasn’t entirely sobered up yet. “Ya! Choi Su Bong!” “What? Can’t you see I’m trying to go home?” “You still owe me 3 more sessions! What makes you think you can just run away after fucking me without aftercare huh?!” I lit the cigarette in my palms, taking a big huff as my whole head felt like it was gonna explode. “I’ll come by next week.” and with that I was finally left alone.

The truth is I didn’t wanna do sex work. It was the last option in my list. However, after that fucking crypto scam my whole world fell apart. Things were going great at first, my career was sky rocketing, hit after hit released in my rap albums. I felt like I was on top of the world. Until the crypto shit started.. When I lost all my life savings I was done for. I couldn’t afford rent, couldn’t make anymore music, I was in the dumps. Till a friend told me about sex work. I’ll be honest at first I was intrigued, my dumbass totally thought I could actually earn shit by making some girls cum. Turns out I was wrong, I’m stuck with debt and annoying girls trying to pull on my dick.

As I kept walking trying to find my way back to the motel I was staying at my phone started ringing. “The fuck..” Checking my phone I realized it was mom. “Shit.” My hands started shaking, the last time I talked with my parents (especially my father) was when I got kicked out of the house after they found out I wanted to pursue a career of rap and music. I let out a sigh before picking up the phone call, “Hello?” Complete silence. “Su Bonga..” The voice of my mom came out, and all of a sudden I felt tears pool in. “How’ve you been? You doing okay? Sorry for calling so late, your father’s out of town and I was wondering how you were..” “I’m comfortable mom, no need to worry..” I slipped out a lie. Lie number 1. “Ah I see.. Hows Jimin? Is she still having trouble sleeping?” My mind was racing at this point, her name started ringing in my ears. “Yea she’s doing better, I try to help her out sometimes and I just bought her some medication.” Lie number 2.

“Okay well.. I see you’re doing well. That makes me relieved, please tell Jimin I said hello… Goodnight Su Bong.” “Night mom.. I lo-“ and with that the phone ended.

At this point I was lying to everyone I loved. Lying to myself was also part of the deal.

END OF CHAPTER 1

[old-fandom]

I've had this Stancest idea for a while and I need to get it down.

Sea Grunk era, pre-relationship. Stan and Ford have feelings for each other but they haven't told each other. There's been signs here or there but nothing concrete. However, while out. Stan starts to feel courageous that even if Ford doesn't feel the same way, then he can at least be truthful.

So one night, Stan is trying really hard to tell Ford. It's not coming out right and Stan is very nervous. He can't seem to get the words out right but Ford stops him - tells him that he knows what he's trying to tell him. And Stan is so scared but excited. But Ford pops the bubble and says that Stan is gay (which isn't wrong but not what he was going for.)

Stan, seeing as his way out of this horrible conversation, tells him he's actually Bi. Ford does the whole, "You're my brother and I'll love you no matter what." And in an act of solidarity, Ford tells Stan that he's gay, which Stan supports (for obvious reasons). But that night, Ford is laid up in bed, tossing and turning. He's feeling guilty, horribly guilty. He believes that his own foolishness has costed Stan a life in which he could settle down with someone, be it man or woman. He spent all his time trying to get Ford back, he neglected his own self. And Ford always feel guilty for wanting Stans sole attention but he believes that he owes Stan this, to find romantic companionship.

So in comes Match-Maker Stanford Pines.

He spends all his time trying to get Stan to tell him what he likes about men and women. And Stan is reluctant because the only person he's really into is Ford. But he obligies because when he doesn't, Ford looks so unhappy and he can't stand unhappy Ford. He blames himself for making him unhappy. What Ford doesn't realize is that the characteristics for the different dates are all characteristics he likes about Ford, nerdiness, brown hair, glasses, kind of sophisticated, things like that.

Through out their travels, Ford sets Stan on a few dates with people they meet in ports. Stan, not wanting to make Ford unhappy, goes on the dates. They're nice and everyone is kind to him and he can't argue that they aren't his type, but he gets sad because he would rather be with Ford than these people. So when he comes home from the dates, obviously not super happy, Ford feels like he failed him, and the cycle continues of Ford feeling like he's failing Stan and Stan feeling guilty for leading these people on and only wanting Ford.

One date, Stan just can't go with it and ends of leaving early. He walks back to the boat and get inside their cabin but freezes, when he hears Ford moaning his name in the bedroom. He cracks the door open to see Ford jerking it with Stan's names on his lips, laying on Stan's bunk.

This is all the confirmation Stan needs before barreling his way inside and confronting Ford. They get through some very direct confessions and make passionate love in bed.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 106)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57014356/chapters/158623843

N helped Uzi follow her parents back into their apartment. V being dragged away by Lizzy despite the fact she'd didn't quite look like she wanted to leave just yet.

With Uzi riding on his back and both of his kids tucked into his arms, Bishop asleep and Tera… glaring daggers at Nori like she owed her money.

Khan was taking in the moment, constantly looking over at his wife like he was expected her to poof into dust or for him to wake up from a fever dream.

When he opened the door and let her inside, she stood in the middle of the living room, eyes scanning the apartment before she turned to face them.

“You put all my stuff away.” She observed, her expression nearly unreadable.

“I… you were gone so long…” Khan wilted slightly under her gaze, shuffling his feet.

She laughed, it sounded almost ethereal.

“It's just an observation Khan. Where'd ya put it when you thought I'd kicked it?” She smiled, Khan smiled back, almost love-struck.

He pointed his thumb to the closet door, labeled Nori's Kooky Insane Stuff.

She huffed in amusement. “I made that sign for a specific box, not all my stuff!” Khan smiled sheepishly, shrugging as if saying “I don't know, I thought I'd fit.”

N watched the exchange with a small smile, Uzi watching from his back in a mixture of awe and cringe from watching her parents be all awkward around each other.

Bishop squirmed in Ns arms, making a soft little babble up at him as he squinted his eyes, it got N's attention immediately and he hummed affectionately, bringing him up closer to his visor.

“Hey B, what is it you want buddy?”

Khan blinked from his awkward conversation, turning to look at N, who was placing Uzi on the couch gently.

“Need anything sweet bat?” He asked her, bringing his hand up to cup her cheek, which she leaned into without thinking

“Oil? I lost… a lot, and some cold sounds freaking amazing right now.” She replied, taking Bishop into her arms while N carried Tera on his shoulder.

“On it.” He leaned forward to kiss her forehead before moving off into her old room to find some.

She'd left some here just in case… good thing too, because he was getting low too.

Khan made his way up to Uzi, shuffling his hands together like he was nervous. Uzi rolled her eyes.

“His name is Bishop, Dad. And yes, you can hold him.” She held up the newborn, setting him in his grandfather's arms, he tensed for a moment before relaxing.

“Look at that… he's got white eyelights! Like me!” Khan grinned, brushing some silvery hair out of the little one's visor. “And skipped the pillbaby stage… ehehe.”

Bishop squinted up at him, bringing his tail up to chew on the vial.

“No stinger either…”

“Thankfully. Nanites in your internals don't feel very good… speaking from experience.” Nori commented, making Khan and Uzi look at her with hollowed eyelights.

“What?” Nori replied dumbly.

“Just as blunt as always…” Khan chuckled to himself before Nori came around to his side to look at Bishop too.

She cocked her head, examining him very closely. “Wonder why he didn't get yellow eyes, don't all murder drones have those?”

“He's not just a dissasembly drone though, he's got worker drone too.” Khan hummed, “Maybe he got it from me!” He grinned proudly.

Uzi thought more that Bishop got it from N's worker form. But she let her dad have his moment.

“Hmm.” Nori made a thinking noise, before shaking it off. “Suppose that makes sense.”

“NO!” Tera's indignant shout came from the bedroom, dripping with as much attitude a toddler could possibly have.

“Jellybean… what's the matter?”

“NO!”

N came out of her old bedroom with three oil cans, in one arm, and Tera's kicking, yelling form in the other, she seemed like she didn't want to come back out of Uzi's old bedroom.

“Here…” He handed a can to Nori and Uzi. “I'm not sure what's up with her… she's not usually like this.” He tried to hold Tera in a better position, but she suddenly bit his hand- hard.

“OW! Tera! What has gotten into you!?” He yelped as Tera scurried across the floor back into Uzi's old bedroom with feral hissing all the way.

He sighed. “Maybe she's upset at not being an only child anymore?” N offered, and Nori seemed to agree with him.

“Just a little mad she has to share Mama and Dada's attention now, I think.” She laughed again, covering her mouth as she did.

“It's… a little weird to have a Mu- ahem, a dissasembly drone as a grandson and… son in law.” She admitted, N rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “Y-yeah uh…”

Khan jumped when Bishop starts wailing, throwing his balled up little fists around. “Ah… I think someone's hungry.”

He handed him off to Uzi, who chuckled lightly. “He's gonna be oil hungry like his Dad…”

She's laughing, cause otherwise she'd cry, she was gonna go through so much oil…

She filled a bottle N handed to her, and Bishop took it greedily, little fangs digging into the rubber tips as he suckled on it. He quieted as soon as the oil touched his lips, eyelights closing.

“There we go…”

“Your room is still set up to sleep in, I'm sure you're both tired… your mother and I have… a lot to talk about, regardless.” Khan glanced over at Nori, who blushed breifly. “B-bite me Khan!”

“Uh huh… talk.” Uzi hummed with a knowing look, causing Khan to flush himself.

“YES. Talk!” He clarified, raising his finger as his daughter chuckled, nodding as they both walked off towards Khan’s bedroom

N and Uzi both looked at each other, stress on all their features, before N reached down and picks her up, embracing her tightly. “It feels like today has lasted a month…” He admitted, speaking almost directly in her audial.

“Yeah…” Uzi agreed. “Mom's back and… Bishop, Tera.” She chuckled exhausted. “Kinda feels like a fever dream.”

“It's all good things though! Maybe all our bad luck was cashed in for good luck!” N smiled, giggling as he nuzzled Uzi's visor.

“I don’t think that's how luck works… but maybe.” She laughed eyelights dimming a little as a low power warning flickered on her visor.

“Hm, Bedtime then…”

“Carry me?” Uzi suggested, blushing slightly as Bishop curled up in her arms, listening to the core he was nestled inside of for months.

N laughed and kissed her on the forehead. “Course…”

He scooped her up and walked them to the bedroom, placing her on the bed and looking around for a certain squirmy kit.

Tera popped her head out of the pillowcase, to look at her parents, though N hadn't seen her yet, she looked guilty, crawling out to place her head over the hand she'd bitten.

“There she is! You wanna tell me why you're being so bitey?” N hummed, not so much angry about the bite itself, more worried about how out of character it was for her.

She licked the already healed wound. “Sowwry Papa…”

He picks her up “It's not okay to bite, but I'm not mad at you, you won't be in trouble if you tell me why.”

Little Tera furrowed her brow. “Don't feel good…”

N held her a little closer. “You don't feel good? Where?”

“Tummy…” She replied, almost dead quiet. “Lady makes it feel bad.” She finished.

“Lady? You mean Nori? That's just your grandma… why would she make your tummy feel bad?”

Tera shrugged, and made a face N is very familiar with-

“Nonono! Not on the bed!”

“Blegh!” She spilled her guts out. Thankfully out onto the floor and not on the bed, N having moved her in time.

“Aww… poor baby…” He hummed after it's over. When he turned Tera back around though, she still didn't look like she felt better, she was sweating, too warm, and oil still leaking out of her mouth.

She whimpered, holding onto him as she starts to tremble…

“Tera?”

[lolitastories]

Ours

Rafe Cameron

Description: This will be a short story on how two people who love each other find their way back to one another. They have a child together and have to focus on giving her the best version of themselves.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

No matter the reason why Rafe and I weren’t officially together could ever make me deny him seeing his daughter. Rafe and I were two young to know what life would bring us after we met 4 years ago. At 19 I needed a change after graduating high school, so I moved to the outer banks. My friends came over to visit and when our pre campfire on the beach was rudely interrupted by a drunk girl, Rafe was there to watch as his friend Topper stopped the girl from starting a fight with one of my friends. My friend was more confident than me and invited them to stay and enjoy the sunset, since then Rafe and I spent most of our free days together. 3 years later I found out we were pregnant. Now I won’t admit I was scared because I wasn’t. Yet per my mother, my actions would tell you otherwise. When I found out I couldn’t block Rafe out of my life for even a day before he started sending constant messages and calling. I definitely couldn't ignore when he would personally go out of his way to come and find me. I was running out of places to hide so I had decided to move back home for a bit. I couldn’t stay too long because it would make my family suspicious, so thankfully being in my first trimester gave me the advantage to knock that reason out of the way. But soon I had to go back and face the decision I had made. The time back home had given me 3 weeks to think how and when I was going to tell Rafe about our future child. Since I was young, I knew I always wanted to be a mother, not this young but truthfully, I was jumping on clouds. The one thing I wanted to make sure before getting pregnant was choosing the right father for my children. He needed to be kind, loving, protective, but most of all understanding. Rafe was all of that and more. Not only did he have all those traits he also made me feel comfortable around him. He was the first man in my life that took care of the little girl who was scared to show herself. He brought out the pain and made it disappear. So, as I walked over to his property in Tanny hill I was determined to settle with whatever he chose to do with the information, that was until I saw him and another girl in his kitchen sharing a drink. I shouldn’t have gone into conclusion, but I was pregnant, and all my emotions were everywhere. I trusted him and when he found out I was back on the island he came to find me. He told me who she was and how he loved me. If it was me alone, I would jump on his arms and take him back, but it wasn’t. I needed to think of the little creature growing inside of me now, so after telling him I was pregnant I also told him I needed time to think about us. I wasn’t testing him, but this little person has become my world, and I needed to prepare to give them my all before welcoming it to the real world.

“We don’t like it here.” I hear the low and grumpy tone coming from behind me. As I turn, I let out a chuckle seeing Rafe and our daughter sharing the same expression. He had her hooked up to his chest as we were making our way to yet another antique store.

“I can understand it from her, but you need to stop acting like a baby.” I shut the tailgate of his trunk and started walking. I heard another groan but soon enough his heavy footsteps were getting closer and closer until he was walking alongside me.

“Promise me you won’t be like your mommy?” I roll my eyes and shake my head. I knew where this sentence was going. “Well,” I could feel his eyes on me, but I continued to walk towards the entrance of the store. “Maybe the good parts but when it comes to shopping, I hope you will drain my bank account at decent stores.” I grab the door hand and pull it open. Rafe walks in giving me a teasing look. I don’t respond knowing it would only lead to a longer conversation down a hole I don’t like. I walk over to grab a cart and walk over to where Rafe is waiting for me. “Every time you come into an antique store you buy nothing. Why do you always bring a cart?”

“Habit.” I shrug as I begin to look around. My mother, siblings and I would enjoy a Saturday in thrift stores and antique shops. We would later get food and rush home with a smile on our faces, it didn’t matter if we were carrying 12 bags or nothing, we were happy.

“Habits do die hard.” He says in a lower tone. I straightened up looking over to him as he played with our daughter's hands. I walk closer, placing my hands over his.

“And I am very proud of you Rafe,” As I looked into his eyes, I felt words choking to get out, but I held them down.

“What a beautiful baby.” Our heads turn looking over to a mid-thirties lady? as she smiled towards us. “Oh, look at her tiny shoes!” She squealed coming over to touch her small shoes. “I remembered my kid's feet being this small, almost making me want another little one.” We laugh alongside her. “Are you two planning to have more?” That question made my smile fade really quick. I looked over to Rafe who had a similar expression. “Either way you two are still young. Enjoy her this little and as much as possible because time goes by fast. You spend your time on things other than family and when you decide to give it priority it's too late.” Her words were like a knife stabbing me right in the heart.

“How many kids do you have?” I could hear their conversation faintly. My fingers began to tighten along the cart's handle. My body began to heat up while my head was spinning.

“Well, it was nice to talk to you two, but I have to find my two devils running around here somewhere.” I was functioning enough to give her a smile before she walked away.

“You, okay?” Rafe moves closer looking over my face. I nod slowly before shaking the uneasiness away and smiling up at him again.

“Yeah. We need to hurry if we want to catch the other stores before they close.” Rafe groans, throwing his head back.

“Oh, we wouldn’t want that now, would we?” I raised my hand to playfully shove him but then I remembered he was holding our daughter. “Did you see that?” he exaggerated as he turned to look down. “Mommy was trying to hurt daddy.” I roll my eyes and turn around to continue walking. My heart was melting when I heard our baby giggling at his fake studded words. “See, she agrees with me.”

“She does because she is such a daddy’s girl.” I turn my head to see Rafe smiling proudly as our baby looks up to him in admiration. “Just wait until she starts dating,” I bite my lips holding back a laugh to how fast his smile fell. “She will put you second,” I teasingly whispers.

“No, she would not! I will make sure of it because she won’t date until I am dead” I come to a halt and turn around to face him.

“I am %110 percent sure she would choose him and fight against you to keep the boy around.”

“Nothing backs up your statement.” He keeps his head high.

“She is a girl.” I simply state. “She will be smart but at the end of the day she is a girl. And as a girl myself I know it will happen because I happened to me,” He looks down with confusion on his face.

“What?” He questioned.

“I argued with my father because of a boy, till this day he still doesn’t like him. but I would do it again.” I don’t regret getting into an argument because of him. I choose the right choice to protect the boy's name, because he keeps on defying everything my father said he was going to do and be. “But don’t worry too much, you two will be okay.”

“Are you and your dad, okay?” I shake my head. I haven’t even told them I had a child. I know my father loved me but until I had Rafe, and I figured out, he would never accept it. I also am not in a hurry because it's my life and I am very happy.

“We will be.” I let out a sigh seeing how even our daughter was keeping quiet. “Let go because I am already hungry.” I smile, turning around to focus back on the shelves. I picked up a small book that read Collection Shakespeare: Hamlet. Before I opened it the book was taken from my hand. Rafe’s face comes to sit right beside my ear. His hot breath fanned down my neck and I could feel his smile radiate against my skin.

“Well until that happens, I can be your daddy,” He slowly whispers. His warm breath moves closer, and I couldn’t help but close my eyes when he places a kiss on the crook of my neck. It had been so long since I felt his lips on such a little intimate spot. When I regained my conscious back, he had already parted. I turned around to him, opening the small yellow book. “I will start by reading my two girls a book” I opened my mouth to speak but he held up his fingers to shush me. I watch our daughter enticed by his voice as he reads Hamlet. His eyes following along the words and looking over to me, when he sees a smile placed on my lips he continues his interpretation of the book. I lean against the cart and watch as he continues to be and grow into the father I prayed for my children.

[hrizantemy]

Cassian had thought about little else but Nesta since she’d left after Solstice. The silence between them weighed on him, and no matter how much he tried to bury it, his mind would always find its way back to her—her distance, her rejection, the way she avoided him. The others had noticed, and while Feyre had scolded Morrigan for her harsh words to Nesta, it was clear to everyone that Morrigan’s apology hadn’t been genuine. She had moved on from it, but Cassian couldn’t.

Feyre, on the other hand, seemed more hopeful. She was grateful that Nesta had invited her somewhere, even if it was just to a tavern, and Cassian couldn’t help but feel a flicker of resentment. Feyre was desperate for any sign of connection, but Nesta’s invitation felt more like a fragile truce than a real step toward healing.

Elain, ever the quiet observer, had admitted she didn’t feel comfortable going to the tavern. Feyre had been understanding, suggesting they instead go to Nesta’s for dinner, which Elain reluctantly agreed to. But even with the offer, Feyre could tell Elain was still uncomfortable, her unease lingering in the air as they all moved forward, each of them carrying a mix of hope and hesitation.

The days after Cassian had returned from Illyria were a blur, the lingering ache of Nesta’s absence gnawing at him relentlessly. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her—of the emptiness her absence had left behind—and the thought that maybe, just maybe, she was somewhere close, just out of reach.

It wasn’t like him to be consumed by a single thought, but Nesta had changed everything. He had spent weeks trying to keep his mind occupied, pushing away the overwhelming need to track her down, to find where she had gone after leaving the Solstice gathering. But the more he tried to resist, the more the idea took hold of him. He would find her. He would go to the taverns, visit the places where she’d worked, or ask anyone who might know where she lived now.

The desperation to demand an answer, to force her to talk to him, gnawed at him like a hunger he couldn’t appease. But even as he thought about it, a part of him knew it wouldn’t work. Not like this. Not with him demanding answers and trying to impose his will. He had never been good at that with Nesta. But he couldn’t stop himself from wanting to fix things, to force a conversation, to fix whatever was broken between them.

Yet, even in the depth of his frustration, part of him feared what he might find, what he might hear, and whether he would truly be ready for it. The guilt and the uncertainty clung to him as the days wore on, leaving him wondering if he could even find a way to make things right with the woman who had stolen his heart.

Cassian’s feelings were more complicated than just longing. There was resentment simmering beneath the surface, a bitterness he couldn’t shake. Nesta had healed without them—without him. She had distanced herself further and further, choosing to rebuild her life alone. The thought stung. She had pushed them away, rejecting the very people who had once been her support, and now she stood as someone entirely different. Someone who no longer needed him or any of them.

It was hard for Cassian to watch from the sidelines, unable to help her, to fix things, to even get close. The woman who had once been drowning in her own pain had now found a way to stand tall, to pull herself out of the mess she had been in. She got a job, stopped drinking, and stopped bringing strangers home like she once had. She had paid back every single coin Rhysand had once fronted for her—the tabs she’d racked up in the taverns. It was almost as if she was proving a point, showing them that she could thrive without their help, without their pity.

The transformation was remarkable, but it didn’t feel like victory to him. It felt like defeat. Nesta had done it all on her own, and in doing so, she had forced him to confront how little he had been able to do for her when she needed it most. She had pulled herself out of the darkness, but in doing so, she had cut the rest of them out, and that cut deep. Cassian couldn’t quite reconcile his admiration for her strength with the bitter realization that she had moved on—without him.

The worst part wasn’t just that Nesta had healed. It wasn’t even that she had moved on without him. No, the worst part was seeing how happy she looked—not with him, but with someone else. It was a quiet sort of joy that radiated from her, a peace Cassian had never seen in her eyes. And it wasn’t even the fact that she was with a woman. That, in itself, shocked him, yes, but it wasn’t the source of his turmoil. It was the softness in her gaze—the kind of softness he had never once seen directed at him.

Never once had Nesta looked at him like that, not even when they were close. Not when they had shared their quiet moments, when their bond had been full of unspoken things. She had always been guarded with him, distant, and maybe that’s what made her healing feel like a sharp, cruel reminder of everything he had missed.

But with Taryn? With her, Nesta’s face was full of something Cassian had only ever dreamed of seeing. There was no hardness in her eyes, no suspicion, no walls. Just warmth, just that kind of openness he hadn’t earned, couldn’t have earned. He’d never been able to break down the barriers she had built around her heart, and seeing her share that tenderness with someone else made him feel small, insignificant. It twisted something inside of him, this ugly mix of guilt and longing, watching her so free with someone else, when all he had ever wanted was to be the one who got to see that side of her.

That softness was never meant for him, and that realization hit him harder than he had expected. It was a kind of finality that he couldn’t escape, no matter how much he tried to move past it.

Cassian walked along the Sidra, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, his boots kicking stray rocks with each step. The water flowed beside him, but he barely noticed it, his mind too heavy with thoughts that dragged him down. He didn’t know what to do anymore. He didn’t know where to go from here. Every time he tried to get closer to Nesta, to reach her, there was nothing but distance between them—an invisible wall he couldn’t break.

The bond they once shared was gone. Or at least, it felt that way. He couldn’t sense her anymore, not in the way he used to. It wasn’t that the bond was broken—it was as if she had simply let it go, as if she no longer needed or wanted to feel him. It wasn’t a severing, no clean break, but a slow drifting, like she had forgotten he was ever there. Forgotten that he could still feel her, hear her thoughts, be connected to her in ways that no one else could.

It should have hurt, but instead, it left him with an emptiness, a hollow feeling in his chest. It was as if Nesta had taken all of her warmth, all of her strength, and moved it away from him—away from their bond. Cassian knew she was healing, knew she was thriving, but what he couldn’t understand was why that meant leaving him behind. Had she ever really needed him, or had it always been just a fleeting connection, something that had served its purpose and now was no longer relevant?

He kicked another rock, watching it skip across the surface of the river. There was a time when she had been the center of his thoughts, when the mere idea of her would light a fire inside him. But now? Now he was walking through the motions, trying to figure out how to live without the pull of her presence constantly there, even if it had been distant for so long. He didn’t know what to do, where to go, or how to fix this. He only knew that whatever Nesta had done, whatever path she was on, it was one she had chosen without him. And that realization? That was the hardest blow of all.

Cassian didn’t even realize where he was walking, his mind consumed with thoughts of Nesta and the lingering emptiness that followed her departure. He was lost in the rhythm of his steps, his gaze fixed downward, barely registering his surroundings. And then, without warning, he collided with someone. The impact was soft, but the crash of falling bags broke through his haze. He heard a quiet curse as a few grocery bags tumbled to the ground, spilling their contents onto the cobblestone street.

He froze, instantly aware of what had happened. He was going to apologize, to bend down and help pick up the mess, but then he looked up. And there she was.

Taryn.

His heart stuttered for a brief second. He hadn’t expected to run into her—least of all like this. She stood there, glaring at the ground as she quickly began to gather her fallen groceries, a faint flush of frustration coloring her features. Cassian felt a flicker of embarrassment, realizing he had been so lost in his own world that he hadn’t even noticed someone in his path.

Without thinking, he crouched down to help her, reaching for the scattered bags. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice a little rougher than he intended.

Taryn didn’t immediately respond. She continued picking things up with swift movements, clearly trying to hide her irritation. But then she paused, glanced up at him, and gave a tight smile. “It’s fine,” she said, though there was a trace of tension in her voice.

Cassian watched her, unsure of what to say next. There was an awkwardness between them, an unspoken distance. After all, she wasn’t just a stranger, not really. She was with Nesta. And for all the times he had seen her from a distance, there was a weight to this encounter that he hadn’t expected.

He picked up the last of the fallen items, placing them carefully back into the bags. “Are you… okay?” he asked, his voice softening slightly as he straightened.

Taryn didn’t immediately answer, but she nodded, taking the bags from him. “Yes, thank you,” she said quietly. There was a flicker of something in her eyes, something Cassian couldn’t quite place. A guardedness, perhaps, or a wariness that matched the awkwardness of their interaction.

Cassian felt the silence stretch between them, unsure of how to break it. Finally, he cleared his throat, giving a small shrug. “I should have been paying more attention.”

Taryn glanced at him, offering a small, knowing smile. “Seems like you’ve got a lot on your mind.”

Cassian’s gaze flickered away, the weight of her words hitting a little too close to home. He didn’t respond right away, but the quiet between them felt heavier now. Taryn, however, was already looking down at the bags, seeming to dismiss the moment as quickly as it had come.

“Well,” she said, her voice quieter now, “I should get going.”

As Taryn adjusted the weight of the bags in her hands, her fingers straining to hold them all, Cassian stood there, watching her. It was strange how something so simple—a woman holding bags—could feel so heavy. Her posture, tense as she shifted the weight from one hand to the other, made it clear she wasn’t handling it easily.

Cassian didn’t know why, but before he could stop himself, he found the words slipping out. “Do you need help?”

Taryn paused. For a heartbeat, she looked like she might refuse—pride or stubbornness flashing in her eyes—but then, after a moment’s hesitation, she seemed to reconsider. Her gaze softened, and the tension in her shoulders eased slightly.

“Actually, yes,” she said, her voice quieter than before. “Thank you.”

Cassian moved forward, careful not to crowd her, and reached for one of the bags. He could feel the weight of it in his hand as he took it from her, the gesture simple, but somehow it felt like an unspoken offering. A truce, or maybe just an acknowledgment that neither of them had to carry their burdens alone, if only for a moment.

They started walking together, side by side, the awkwardness of their earlier exchange lingering in the air. Taryn said nothing for a while, and Cassian didn’t press her. His mind wandered again, thoughts drifting back to Nesta and that strange, quiet sense of longing that had been gnawing at him since he had first seen her with Taryn.

The quiet stretched between them, but it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been earlier. Maybe because now, at least, they were doing something—helping, in a small way, even if the world around them seemed like it had shifted too much already.

Taryn glanced over at him after a few moments, the flicker of something in her gaze—something unreadable. “You don’t have to do this,” she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Cassian gave a small shrug, keeping his eyes ahead as they walked. “It’s no trouble,” he said, his voice a little lighter than before. “I don’t mind.”

She didn’t respond, but the soft sound of her breath as they continued walking made it feel, for a moment, like they weren’t so far apart.

As they walked, Cassian couldn’t help but sneak glances at Taryn. There was something about her that made him feel… uneasy, though not in the way he had anticipated. She wasn’t his type, not in the way Nesta had been. Nesta had always been fierce and untouchable, her every movement demanding attention. Taryn, however, was quiet—composed in a way that Cassian hadn’t expected. She wasn’t like any woman he’d ever been around.

He studied her as they walked side by side, trying to find something, anything, that would explain the pull Nesta had felt toward her. What was it about this woman that had made Nesta smile in a way she’d never smiled for him? He couldn’t see it right away.

Taryn wasn’t trying to make herself seen. She wasn’t flashy or demanding attention. Her hair was tied up simply, a few strands falling loosely around her face. The soft, subtle grace she moved with was more refined than anything Cassian was used to. There was no arrogance in her posture, no sharpness in her tone. She wasn’t like the women he was familiar with, always bold and willing to fight for their place.

He tried to push past his thoughts, but as they continued walking, the more he watched her, the more his mind ran through all the possible reasons Nesta would have chosen to open herself to Taryn. What had Taryn offered that he couldn’t? What had she given Nesta that he had failed to?

It made no sense to him. He had been there for Nesta, in every way he knew how. Yet here she was, sharing moments with someone else—someone like Taryn—someone who was soft and steady, who didn’t demand, but somehow seemed to give her what she needed.

Cassian tried to figure it out, but the answer remained just out of reach. Taryn was so different from Nesta, in every way. And yet, the thought lingered in his mind like an itch he couldn’t scratch. What had Nesta seen in her? Why did she look at Taryn with a kind of warmth that had never been reserved for him?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was missing something vital. But the more he looked at Taryn, the more it gnawed at him—Nesta’s smile when she looked at her, the quiet, unspoken bond between them that Cassian couldn’t quite understand.

Cassian couldn’t hold it in any longer. His curiosity gnawed at him, and the silence between them had grown too thick for him to ignore. He cleared his throat, glancing at Taryn from the corner of his eye.

“How’s Nesta?” he asked, his voice softer than he intended, like he was afraid she might hear the desperation beneath it. “I know… everything’s been left tense between us.”

Taryn slowed her pace slightly, her expression unreadable for a moment as she took a breath. Then, with a simple shrug, she replied, “She’s okay. Really, she is. We went out to meet some friends after the Solstice, delivered more presents.” She didn’t elaborate, but there was something in her voice that told Cassian everything he needed to know—Nesta had been moving on.

Cassian felt a strange sting in his chest at the thought. It wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, but a bitter realization. She was living her life without him, carving out a space where he no longer fit. And, for the first time, he was starting to wonder if that was how it should be.

“Good,” he muttered, though the word felt hollow. He wasn’t sure if he meant it.

Cassian didn’t know why the word struck him so strangely. Friends. Friends? Of course, Nesta would have friends. She wasn’t incapable of connection, wasn’t completely cold or cruel—not in the way others might think. But still, he couldn’t quite picture it. Her sharp tongue and relentless glare were more likely to push people away than draw them close.

He tried to imagine it. Nesta, sitting with a group of people, laughing, talking about… what? She wasn’t the type to make small talk, to gossip about nonsense. What did she share with these so-called friends? What part of herself did they get that he hadn’t?

It was unsettling, the idea that there were pieces of her life he didn’t know about. Had she always had friends and just… not told him? Had she met them after she left? What did they see in her that made them stay? He found himself stuck in a loop, trying to reconcile the Nesta he knew with this version of her, one who had a life full of people who weren’t him.

Taryn glanced at him, her lips twitching in a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. It was sharp, almost pointed, and Cassian felt the weight of it as if she had peeled back the layers of his thoughts.

“She’s perfectly capable of making friends,” Taryn said smoothly, her tone light but purposeful. Her gaze lingered on him for a beat longer, as though daring him to deny it.

Cassian felt a flush creep up his neck. He shifted the bag in his hands, focusing on the ground ahead as if it held answers. “It’s not that she couldn’t,” he said quickly, almost defensively. “It’s just… Nesta is Nesta.”

Taryn raised a brow, the look on her face both amused and unimpressed. “And what does that mean, exactly?”

Cassian stumbled over his words, realizing how it must have sounded. “I just mean… she’s not the easiest person to get to know. She keeps her guard up.” He hesitated, then added, almost to himself, “She pushes people away.”

Taryn’s expression softened, but there was still steel beneath it. “And yet, some people stay. You’d be surprised how many are willing to try when they see her for who she truly is.”

The words landed heavily, and Cassian felt them settle uncomfortably in his chest. He didn’t respond, unable to shake the feeling that Taryn wasn’t just talking about Nesta’s friends but maybe even herself. Maybe especially herself.

Cassian frowned, his grip tightening slightly on the bag in his hands. “Maybe,” he said after a moment, his voice lower, more defensive. “But they don’t know her like I do. Like her family does.”

Taryn stopped walking, turning to face him fully. Her expression was unreadable, but her sharp gaze pinned him in place. “And what makes you so sure of that?”

He blinked, caught off guard by her directness. “Because I’ve been there,” he said, his tone firmer now, almost as if trying to convince himself. “Through everything. I’ve seen her at her worst, and I’ve—”

“Left her there,” Taryn cut in softly but pointedly. Her words sliced through him, leaving no room for rebuttal. “You’ve seen her, but did you ever truly try to understand her? Or did you just assume that because she’s family, you knew everything there was to know?”

Cassian’s jaw clenched, but he said nothing. Taryn tilted her head, studying him for a moment longer before continuing. “Nesta doesn’t let people in easily, but when she does, she’s loyal in ways most people can’t comprehend. If she’s found people who care for her, who see her for who she is now, maybe that’s something you should be glad about instead of guarded.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy and unyielding. Cassian swallowed hard, the weight of them settling into the cracks he hadn’t even realized were there. He wanted to argue, to push back, but deep down, he knew she wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, the thought of anyone else knowing Nesta better than he did left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Cassian’s jaw tightened as he stopped in his tracks. “You don’t get it,” he said, his voice sharper than he intended. “You didn’t see her last solstice. What she was doing to herself. The drinking, the fighting, the way she pushed everyone away. You don’t know what it was like.”

Taryn turned to him sharply, her eyes blazing with something fierce. “Don’t I?” she snapped, her voice low and biting. “You think I wasn’t there? That I didn’t see her that way?”

Cassian froze, his mind scrambling to make sense of her words. “What are you talking about?”

“That solstice,” Taryn said firmly, stepping closer, “was the night I met Nesta. I saw her exactly as she was then—angry, hurting, and drowning in her own pain. Do you think I didn’t notice the way she downed those drinks, or how hollow her laughter sounded? You’re not the only one who’s seen her at her lowest, Cassian.”

Cassian’s throat tightened, but he didn’t look away from her glare. “Then you know what I’m talking about,” he pressed, his voice quieter but no less intense. “You know how bad it was.”

Taryn’s gaze didn’t soften, but her tone shifted, calmer yet still cutting. “I saw her that way, yes. But unlike you, I didn’t just judge her for it. I didn’t try to fix her or force her into something she wasn’t ready for. I just… listened. And maybe that’s why she started to pull herself out of that darkness—because she didn’t need someone telling her what she already knew. She needed someone who would stand beside her while she figured it out herself.”

Cassian stared at her, the weight of her words pressing against the cracks in his pride. He wanted to argue, to push back, but for the first time, he felt the sting of doubt. Had he been so focused on saving Nesta that he hadn’t stopped to ask what she actually needed?

Cassian swallowed hard, his voice hesitant as he asked, “What did she need, then?”

Taryn studied him for a moment, her expression unreadable. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, as if the answer carried weight she wasn’t sure he could hold. Finally, she said, “She needed space. And patience. Someone who didn’t try to fix her, but who saw her for who she was—not just her anger or her pain, but all of her.”

Cassian flinched, her words hitting closer than he wanted to admit. “I… I cared about her. I still do. I thought I was helping.”

Taryn’s gaze softened, but only slightly. “Maybe you were, in your way. But Nesta didn’t need someone to save her, Cassian. She needed someone who trusted her to save herself.”

Cassian felt the weight of her words settle deep in his chest. He wanted to protest, to defend himself, but the truth in what she said left him speechless.

“She’s stronger than you think,” Taryn continued, her voice steady but no longer harsh. “Stronger than even she believed, back then. But she had to find that strength on her own terms. Not yours. Not anyone else’s.”

Cassian looked away, his jaw tightening as he stared at the cobblestones beneath their feet. He wanted to believe he had done right by Nesta, but hearing Taryn now made him question everything. “I just wanted her to be happy,” he muttered, almost to himself.

“She is,” Taryn said simply, her voice softening just enough to be kind. “But it’s her happiness, Cassian. Not the version you wanted for her.”

The words stung, but Cassian nodded faintly, unable to argue against the truth of them.

Taryn adjusted the grocery bag in her arms and began walking again, her steps deliberate but unhurried. Cassian quickly fell into stride beside her, his thoughts racing.

“How… how was she?” he asked, his voice quieter than he intended. “Last solstice, I mean. How did you two even meet?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was fixed ahead, as if deciding how much to say. Finally, she exhaled softly. “She was… at a low point,” Taryn admitted, her voice measured. “She didn’t say much at first, but it was obvious. I could see it in the way she held herself, in the way she avoided looking anyone in the eye.”

Cassian’s chest tightened at the image, the guilt surging anew. “And?”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, her expression unreadable. “I was in a tavern,” she said bluntly. “She was sitting in a corner, drinking, glaring at anyone who came too close. I didn’t think much of it at first, but then I saw a few men trying to bother her.”

Cassian’s fists clenched at the thought, his protective instincts flaring. “And what happened?”

Taryn gave a wry smile. “She didn’t need me to intervene. She shut them down with a single look and a few choice words. It was… impressive, honestly.”

Cassian felt a mix of pride and frustration at the image. “So why did you approach her?”

Taryn’s smile faded slightly. “Because even after they left, she still looked… alone. Not just in the way she was sitting, but like it was something she carried with her.”

Cassian swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. “And then?”

“I sat down,” Taryn said simply. “She tried to brush me off at first, told me to go away. But I stayed. I offered to buy her a drink—not the cheap, strong stuff she was nursing, but something that didn’t burn. And to my surprise, she didn’t argue. She just… let me.”

Cassian blinked, stunned. He could hardly imagine Nesta letting anyone do something like that, let alone a stranger. “And you just talked?”

Taryn shrugged. “Not much that first night. But enough. I told her about a band that was playing a few nights later, and I don’t know why, but I invited her. Didn’t think she’d come.” She smiled faintly. “But she did.”

Cassian fell silent, his mind replaying the story. It was so… unlike the Nesta he knew—or thought he knew. He couldn’t help but feel like he was piecing together fragments of someone he’d lost, someone who had grown into a version of herself he no longer fully recognized.

Cassian frowned, the weight of Taryn’s words settling heavily in his chest. He glanced at her, his brow furrowed. “If you knew she was drinking to hurt herself,” he asked, his tone sharper than he intended, “why would you buy her another drink? Why not stop her?”

Taryn didn’t break stride, though her jaw tightened slightly. She shifted the grocery bag in her arms, considering her response before she finally spoke. “Because stopping her wouldn’t have worked. Not then.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Taryn turned her head, her gaze steady and unyielding as she met his. “Do you really think she didn’t know she was hurting herself? That she didn’t already hear all the judgment from everyone around her? What she didn’t need was someone else trying to fix her. She needed someone who wasn’t going to push her away further.”

Cassian opened his mouth to argue but found he had no immediate response. Taryn’s words cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

“I wasn’t buying her another drink to enable her,” Taryn continued, her voice firm but not unkind. “I was meeting her where she was. Showing her that she wasn’t invisible. That someone saw her, even if she didn’t want to be seen.”

Cassian’s steps faltered, his hands tightening into fists. He hated the truth in her words, hated the guilt it churned up in him. He’d spent so long trying to push Nesta to be the version of herself he thought she should be, and now he couldn’t shake the image of her sitting in that tavern, alone and hurting.

“That’s what she needed then,” Taryn said quietly. “And eventually, she started to let herself want more than the hurt.”

Cassian’s chest ached, his gaze dropping to the ground as they walked. He didn’t know how to respond, how to process the realization that someone else—someone he barely knew—had reached Nesta in a way he never could.

Taryn’s gaze softened as she walked, her voice steady but reflective. “It wasn’t easy,” she admitted. “Nesta didn’t just let people in. At first, she was sharp, guarded… like she was waiting for me to prove I was just like everyone else who had hurt her.”

Cassian’s jaw tightened, his fists still shoved in his pockets. “That sounds like her,” he muttered, more to himself than to Taryn.

Taryn glanced at him but didn’t comment on the bitterness in his tone. “She tested me, you know,” she continued. “Sarcasm, walls built so high I wasn’t sure I’d ever get past them. But I didn’t push. I just… stayed.”

“Stayed?” Cassian repeated, his brow furrowing.

“Yes,” Taryn said simply. “I sat with her when she didn’t want to talk. I listened when she did. I didn’t pry or force her to explain herself. I let her take her time because I knew she needed to trust that I wasn’t going to leave the moment it got hard.”

Cassian’s throat felt tight. “And she let you in?”

“Eventually,” Taryn said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It took months. Months of awkward silences, of her throwing verbal barbs at me to see if I’d flinch. But little by little, she let her guard down. And when she did…” Taryn’s smile grew, warm and fond. “It was worth it. She’s worth it.”

Cassian didn’t know what to say to that. His heart twisted painfully at the thought of Nesta letting Taryn in when she had pushed him—and everyone else—so far away. He wanted to resent Taryn for it, but deep down, he couldn’t. Not when it was clear that she had been there for Nesta when no one else had.

Taryn’s voice softened as she continued, her gaze fixed ahead. “Even after she started to trust me, Nesta wasn’t ready. For relationships, for dating… anything like that.”

Cassian glanced at her, a question in his eyes, but he stayed quiet.

“She was still piecing herself back together,” Taryn said. “She didn’t need someone trying to claim her, or fix her, or even push her. She needed space to figure out who she was beyond all the pain she’d carried. So, we stayed as friends. Close friends.”

Cassian’s chest tightened. “Friends,” he repeated, his voice faintly bitter, but Taryn ignored the edge in his tone.

“She got a job,” Taryn continued, undeterred. “Started saving her money, paying off debts—even the ones no one expected her to repay. She moved into a new apartment, something small but cozy, something she could call her own. And she started exploring things she enjoyed—books, music, dancing.”

Cassian’s brows furrowed. “Dancing?”

Taryn smiled faintly. “Yes, dancing. Not in a ballroom or for anyone’s approval, but just… for herself. She loved the freedom of it. The joy.”

Cassian looked away, his throat tightening. He thought of all the times he had seen Nesta at her lowest, drowning herself in alcohol and pushing everyone away. He thought of how he had tried to pull her out of that darkness, but his methods had only driven her further away.

“She didn’t need someone to pull her out,” Taryn added, as if reading his thoughts. “She needed to climb out on her own. And she did.”

Cassian stayed silent, his jaw clenched. He didn’t know if it was anger, regret, or something else entirely that burned in his chest. But one thing was certain: Nesta had found a life beyond him, beyond the chaos they had shared. And for the first time, he realized just how far out of reach she truly was.

Cassian stopped walking, his voice coming out sharp, like a challenge he couldn’t hold back. “When did it happen?” His eyes locked onto Taryn’s, searching, as if the answer might bring him some sort of relief. “When did you two become… this close? When did you—” He paused, words faltering for a moment. “When did she start trusting you enough for all of that?”

Taryn’s expression was unreadable, but there was a soft sigh before she answered. “It didn’t happen overnight, Cassian. It took time. Months, really. I didn’t rush her. I wasn’t trying to be her savior or her therapist or her next… whatever. I just showed up. I was there when she needed someone who wouldn’t push or judge or try to make her ‘better.’”

Cassian’s fists clenched, but his voice stayed low, full of that pent-up frustration. “I was there too. I tried.”

Taryn’s eyes narrowed, and she stopped walking, her tone cool but firm. “And you know what happened when you tried, right? You pushed. You didn’t see her. You didn’t really hear her. You didn’t give her the space she needed to heal, and it drove her further away. It’s why she needed a different kind of person.”

Cassian stood frozen for a beat, trying to swallow the weight of her words. The truth had always been there, hadn’t it? He had pushed too hard, too fast, expecting things to fall back into place when she was barely standing at all. He hadn’t seen it until now—how much further he had gone to drive a wedge between them.

“When did it happen?” he repeated, quieter this time. He wasn’t sure if he wanted the answer, but he had to ask. He needed to know. “When did you… become what she needed?”

Taryn didn’t answer immediately, letting the silence stretch between them. Then, finally, her gaze softened just a touch. “It wasn’t a moment, Cassian. It was a process. A lot of small moments. But if you want a specific day, it was when she told me she wanted to dance with me.” She shook her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “And that… well, that was a beautiful thing to witness.”

Cassian let out a slow breath, the air around him feeling heavy, as if he was hearing everything for the first time, but it was too late to take it back. He wanted to scream, to ask her how he could have been different, but the words stuck. All he could do was stand there, feeling the loss of her��not just as a woman, but as someone who was gone in a way he hadn’t realized until now.

Taryn’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile as she resumed walking, her gaze ahead of her. “She trusted me,” she said simply. “I didn’t ask her to. I just gave her the space to be who she needed to be.” She glanced at Cassian, her expression soft but firm. “We have a relationship built on honesty, Cassian. She’s bared her heart to me, everything—no holds barred.”

Cassian’s brow furrowed, the words catching in his chest. He couldn’t keep the surprise from his voice. “Everything?” He couldn’t help it, the need to know the depth of what she meant. “Even the cabin… her sisters… Feyre?”

Taryn nodded without hesitation, her gaze unwavering as she continued walking. “Yes. Everything. Nesta needed someone to listen, to understand. She had her reasons for keeping things from her family, but with me, she didn’t hold back. She told me about the cabin, about the way she felt about her family, about Feyre and what happened with her. She told me about the war, about the way things broke her—about how she thought no one cared enough to help.” She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. “And it wasn’t easy for her. But she found a way to talk about it.”

Cassian stood silent for a moment, processing her words. There was so much he hadn’t known, so much he hadn’t realized about Nesta’s struggle. Her isolation wasn’t just about being left behind—it was about the broken pieces no one had bothered to pick up. “She never told me that,” he murmured, the hurt obvious in his tone. “She never let me in like that.”

Taryn’s smile softened. “She had to be ready, Cassian. And she wasn’t ready with you then. But she is now… in her own way, with the people who see her, who accept her as she is.” Her voice was gentle, but there was a quiet strength behind it. “You didn’t give her that. But she’s found it now.”

The words struck him like a blow. Cassian felt the sting of regret, but also the painful realization that he had never really seen Nesta for who she had become—only who she had been when they first met. “I didn’t understand her,” he admitted quietly. “Not then, not even now.”

Taryn glanced at him briefly, a flicker of empathy crossing her face. “It’s not too late, you know. But it has to be on her terms now.”

Cassian looked at Taryn, his voice raw with a mix of frustration and curiosity. “How did you do it? How did you understand her when none of us could? The cabin… we all hated her for it. Some of us still do.” He paused, trying to grasp at the answer that had been eluding him. “Why didn’t you?”

Taryn’s expression softened, and she turned her gaze toward him, her pace slowing as she considered his words. “Why would I hate her for it?” she asked quietly. “I wasn’t here, Cassian. I didn’t live the way she did. I didn’t feel the weight of every mistake she thought she’d made. I didn’t hear the things that broke her down, the way you and her sisters did. I didn’t live through the endless cycle of self-loathing that she couldn’t escape from.”

Her voice was calm but firm, as if the answer was simple to her. “So why would I hate her for something I didn’t live? Why would I judge her when I didn’t walk in her shoes, when I didn’t feel what she felt?” Taryn’s eyes met his, a quiet but powerful understanding in them. “I saw a woman who was trying to survive. She didn’t have to explain herself to me, but she did. And I didn’t turn my back on her for it.”

Taryn’s footsteps slowed even further as she spoke, her voice quiet but full of conviction. “What happened to the sisters… all of it, it was horrible. But Nesta blamed it all on herself. Everything. When she didn’t have to. She carried the weight of it like it was her burden alone, as if she had the power to stop it all.” Taryn’s eyes narrowed slightly as she glanced over at Cassian. “She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Cassian’s throat tightened as he heard the truth in Taryn’s words, but she wasn’t finished.

“What happened in the cabin… the things she did, what she put herself through, I would never hold it against her.” Taryn shook her head, her voice firm. “She was trying to survive, Cassian. She was suffocating, and she didn’t know how to breathe. None of you were there when it started to break her, and you weren’t there when she pulled herself out of it, either.”

Taryn shrugged, as if dismissing the weight of the conversation, but Cassian felt the words linger in his chest. He still didn’t understand, not fully, but he couldn’t argue with the sincerity in her voice. He followed her anyway, his mind still whirling with the questions, the confusion.

As they turned a corner, the street ahead seemed quieter, warmer. A cozy little neighborhood lined with homes that felt lived in. They stopped in front of one of them—a small, well-kept house. It wasn’t grand or imposing, but there was a charm to it. The brick exterior was a deep shade of red, with ivy creeping up the sides. A small garden sat in front, a few pots of flowers and greenery scattered about.

It was the kind of place that felt like it had a story to tell, and for some reason, Cassian found himself wondering if that story belonged to Nesta now.

Taryn looked up at the house, then over at Cassian. “This is it,” she said simply, her tone softer than before.

Cassian nodded, though his eyes lingered on the house. Something about it felt… real. In a way that he hadn’t expected.

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at the house, the quiet hope bubbling up in his chest. “Is she here?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. He couldn’t help it—there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to see her again, to have a chance to talk, to maybe fix what had gone so wrong.

Taryn immediately shook her head, her lips pressing together in a firm line. “No,” she said, her tone almost apologetic. “She’s out running errands.”

Taryn took the bag from Cassian’s hands, her grip firm as she looked up at him, her gaze steady and piercing. “I heard you’ve been asking around about her,” she said, her voice calm but laced with an edge of warning. She didn’t give him a chance to respond before she continued. “You should only come around when Nesta allows it, if she ever wants it. You can’t just push your way into her life, not after everything that’s happened.”

Cassian was silent, her words hitting him harder than he expected. His mind raced, thinking of how many times he’d pushed too hard, how many times he’d tried to fix things without considering what Nesta needed. It wasn’t just about him—it was about her.

Taryn turned to walk toward the house, her eyes still on him. “So, if you truly care about her, you’ll wait. You’ll wait until she’s ready.”

Cassian’s voice broke the silence, thick with something that almost sounded like vulnerability. “Do you love her?” he asked, his eyes searching Taryn’s face, desperate for some understanding, some answer he didn’t know he was looking for.

Taryn paused for a moment, her lips curving into a soft but unwavering smile. She looked at him, her gaze filled with both certainty and tenderness. “Yes,” she said simply, her voice quiet but strong. “I do.”

Cassian blinked, caught off guard by her honesty. He had never expected such a clear answer, but it stung more than he thought it would. He opened his mouth to say something, but Taryn continued before he could speak.

“To be honest,” she said, her smile softening as her eyes turned distant with the memory, “I’m pretty sure I loved her the first moment I saw her.” She let out a breath, her fingers tightening slightly on the bag she carried. “She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Cassian stood frozen, the weight of her words settling on him like a weight he couldn’t shake off. It wasn’t just the admission of love; it was the way Taryn spoke about Nesta, as if she had known her soul since the very beginning. Something in the way Taryn looked at her, something in the way she loved her, made Cassian feel like he was too late.

[kikyoupdates]

Changing Plotlines ⭑˚💞⭑ 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

yandere!ocs x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, yandere reverse harem, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, isekai

A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned.

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When you arrived back at the manor, it was clear that you needed to get your shit in order.

The situation was crazy to begin with, but this newest revelation was something you just couldn’t wrap your head around. It was one thing to reincarnate into the past, or even in a separate world, given the very high likelihood of multiple galaxies existing. But this was just a game. It wasn’t real. So then, how was this possible?

Obviously, you didn’t have the answer to that question, and you weren’t even sure if you ever would find the answer. But that was really beside the point. It didn’t matter how you ended up here—what mattered was what in the hell you were going to do.

For the time being, you decided to lock yourself in your room and try to rack for your brain for just about everything you could remember. Thankfully, you’d just recently finished the game, so most of the details were still relatively fresh in your mind.

The most pressing issue was obviously that the game you found yourself in was by no means a happy one. It was marketed as a dark fantasy for a reason, because the love interests were dangerous and hardly good people. The yandere genre had become explosively popular over the course of the past decade. It was particularly enjoyable due to the strange thrill it provided people with, the mystery and suspense, but yanderes were far from desirable. The game had both a good and bad ending for each of the love interests, with all of the bad endings being remarkably messed up, and even the “good” endings were plenty concerning in their own right.

Which is why it was quite a bitter irony that the game was called Zodin’s Benevolence, given that there was nothing truly benevolent about the twisted challenges the protagonist was forced to undergo. She repeatedly found herself tangled up in all sorts of sinister plots after being adopted into a baron’s family and acquiring a noble status.

The good news was that you hadn’t been reincarnated as the protagonist, which meant that so long as you kept your distance from the main events of the storyline, there shouldn’t really be any reason for you to get dragged into that mess.

A grimace fell upon your lips. Thinking about it like that, it sounded a bit selfish to intentionally ignore a poor woman’s suffering, but you’d finally been given a chance at a proper life. The last thing you needed was to suffer a gruesome death at the hands of yanderes simply because you’d interfered with their twisted obsessions.

“I will do absolutely nothing,” you stated determinedly. “There’s no way my character even existed in the first place. When I woke up in this world, it sort of created a little slot for me to fit in. In other words, I’m a side character, and my actions should have no effect on the story so long as I don’t get involved.”

Yes, that was the plan. Do nothing. You could do that. You were very good at doing nothing.

The rules of this “game” you found yourself in—both literally and figuratively—were rather simple. Actually, there was only one rule at all, and that was to stay as far away from the protagonist and yanderes as possible. Which, given that you’d accidentally run into Cassius today, meant that you already weren’t off to a very good start. But a simple bump-in shouldn’t be reason enough for him to go after you with a vengeance. Apart from deliberating angering him, the only thing you could of think that would incur his wrath would be to prevent him from interacting with the game’s protagonist.

Speaking of... how far into the game am I at this point?

The game began with the protagonist being adopted by a kind baron after dutifully waiting on him during one of his trips to the countryside. She then proceeded to move into his estate, getting acquainted with her new life, and promptly beginning lessons at the renowned academy in Zodite’s capital city, as per her adoptive father’s wishes to grant her a formal education. This was the catalyst that set the plot in motion, because it was at the academy that the protagonist met the first yandere—none other than Cassius himself.

As far as you could recall, Zodin’s Benevolence began sometime early summer, because the baron encountered the protagonist while in the middle of a leisurely seasonal trip. Given how warm the weather currently was, summer was either peeking right around the corner, or already here. Which meant that there likely wasn’t much time left until the official plot was set in motion.

Although you had no concrete benchmark as to when it would officially begin, one thing was for sure. If you wanted to avoid an early death again, you would need to keep your eyes peeled for the protagonist’s appearance and keep her away from you by any means.

You frowned, nibbling on your bottom lip.

It’s okay. I can be selfish. No, I have to be selfish. It’s the only way.

Dying from illness was one thing, but the things those crazy bastards were capable of... you had a feeling that dying by their hands would be a million times more painful than anything you’d ever endured.

This new life had been placed right in the palms of your hands, and you’d be damned if you were going to let go of it.

“Mom, dad. Do you think it would be alright if I stopped going to the academy?”

After having discovered that you were in a yandere dating sim, that was the question you chose to ask your parents the very next morning.

Naturally, they were completely flabbergasted.

“Is this another one of your jokes? You wanted to go to school so badly up until now. Sorry, we’re just struggling to understand where all this is coming from.”

It had been your hope that in not attending the academy, you could prevent any run-ins with both the protagonist and the yanderes. But truthfully, you did want to go to school, because your sickness had prevented you from actually attending college back in your old world. It sounded like the version of you in this world was interested in pursuing an education as well, so perhaps it was for the best that you went. You couldn’t stand to see your parents’ disappointed expression once more, even in this reality.

From what you recalled seeing in the game, the campus was quite large, so if you were cautious, there was no reason for you to get wrapped up with the yanderes.

That being said...

You still didn’t want to be ill-prepared for what this world had to offer. There was only so much that had been outright stated in the game; you would have to find out the rest for yourself. One of the key points that you wanted to look into was the usage of magic. In this world, magic was mainly used through magical ores, which helped to supply certain buildings with things like electricity, heat, and even reinforcing walls with something akin to a barrier. Some people were blessed with magical abilities themselves, although it was exceedingly rare. The topic of mages had been briefly touched upon in the game, and it seemed as though with every passing generation, fewer and fewer people found themselves capable of such feats. Dwindling bloodlines, or something like that.

It did make you curious, though. Was it at all possible that you might be fortunate enough to be a mage yourself? If so, you could train your abilities to make sure that you would be able to protect yourself from harm in the event that something really did go wrong.

You didn’t really know how to use magic, though. After all, the game didn’t exactly expand on this detail very much.

So, you tried various methods to see if you could channel some hidden power. Reciting cringy incantations, straining your body so hard that it made you feel like you had to rush to the bathroom—you even drew a horribly misshapen pentagram on the floor of your bedroom, with leftover jam from your breakfast, and Lizbell nearly fainted when she saw the mess.

Needless to say, none of it worked, so you decided to just come out and ask.

“Can I use magic?”

For the second time that same morning, your parents gaped at you.

“My dear, what’s the matter?” your father chuckled. “You’ve been going full throttle since yesterday. Your mother and I can hardly keep up.”

“Does that mean I can’t use magic?”

“Of course not, good heavens. You know very well we don’t come from a family of mages.”

Despite their immediate dismissals, you knew that it was possible for people to potentially grow into their magical powers. Magical ability was traditionally passed down by blood, but it could just as easily manifest in an unsuspecting individual. Hopefully, that individual was you.

“I haven’t been able to use magic up until now, but something may have changed recently,” you persisted. “That’s what I meant. I’m wondering if my abilities have awakened by now.”

Fortunately, your parents had always been the patient sort, so they merely shrugged their shoulders. “If you're really still holding out hope for a thing, then you can always go and get tested at the Bureau of Magic.”

You decided to do just that. The Bureau of Magic’s central headquarters was a large, impressive building. You didn’t really know anything about this organization, but you were tickled pink by the thought of being magically gifted on top of having perfect health. You could already imagine it, shooting fireballs from your hands and creating geysers out of nothing.

You were going to be the best mage ever—

“Zero magical affinity,” the man testing you stated. “Although there are cases where people may develop magic over time, by looking at your mana reservoir, I can tell that there is absolutely no chance of you ever becoming a mage.”

Well, that was certainly a short-lived dream.

The man then frowned, peering closer into the strange device he was measuring your aptitude with. “Come to think of it though, this is really strange. Even average citizens have very trace amounts of mana in their system. Mana is present in all living things, whether or not they can actually manifest that mana and convert it into magical energy. I’ve never seen a case like yours before, not in all my years of working here. You’re an anomaly. Almost as if you aren’t meant to be a part of this world...”

Uh-oh. It sounded like he was starting to get suspicious, so you hurried to wave him off. “Your machine must be broken,” you dismissed flippantly. “Anyways, I’ve already lost interest in becoming a mage, so I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

“What? Miss, if you could just—”

“Gotta go, bye!”

Since magic was clearly a no-go, you figured you should at least have another plan to fall back onto. You were weak and sickly back in your previous life, but you had a perfectly healthy body in this one. There was no reason you couldn’t pick up a weapon and learn how to protect yourself. For instance, sword-fighting!

“You want to do what?” your parents blanched. It was the third time today that they were confused beyond belief, though they looked particularly horrified in this instance.

“Sword-fighting,” you repeated calmly. “I just think it’d be neat.”

“Oh, [Name], but why that of all things? Those blades are seriously dangerous, you know. You could hurt yourself!”

“Well, not if I’m good at it.”

“Someone in your position will never have to worry about their safety,” they insisted. “We can hire more guards to keep watch outside the manor if it’ll help you feel better. Come on now, what use have you for a weapon like that?”

“It’s not that I’m worried about my safety.” That’s a lie. “I just want to challenge myself and see if I can do this. Plus, I think it’d be pretty amazing if I could pull something like this off. I’d be bragging about it constantly.” Okay, that part isn’t entirely a lie.

Their reluctance was plain as day, but as expected—they just couldn’t seem to say no to you.

“Very well,” your father sighed. “But we’ll at least be hiring an instructor to ensure that you have someone watching over you and making sure you’re safe while you train. Please allow us at least this much.”

“Yeah, that’s fine!” you beamed. “I’ll learn faster with a teacher, anyways.”

So far, things were looking good. You had your plan to stay out of everyone’s way and make sure you didn’t become a target, and in the event that it all failed, you would at least have some way of fighting for your life.

“Oh, and uh, the sooner the better,” you said. “I’d like to start learning as early as possible, since I’m just so excited! Okay? Okay!”

You proceeded to skip out the room before they could mutter a protest.

It was actually incredible how much your parents loved you. They were parents from a different reality, but your parents nonetheless. In spite of their visible concerns to allow you to wield a sword, they’d managed to secure you a personal instructor in less than twenty-four hours.

Currently, you were out in the courtyard, eagerly awaiting your guest. You were dressed in a loose tunic and comfortable pants that were perfecting for working up a sweat in. It was a shame you couldn’t wear clothes like these more often, though you had to admit that your collection of dresses was rather delightful.

It was hot out. Definitely summer, you were sure of it now. It was a good thing you were starting your sword-fighting lessons so early on. Even if you never ending up needing your soon-to-be lethal skills, you would definitely feel more at ease knowing that you had them.

Your personal instructor was apparently a knight, so you were already inclined to trust that he had hands-on experience. You wondered what he’d look like. Knights in fantasy settings like this one were always so damn attractive. Hopefully he wasn’t much older than you...

Ah, focus, goddammit! What does it matter what he looks like? The most important thing is staying alive.

You lightly slapped yourself upside the head. Right. No distractions. You were no longer the same weak person from your miserable previous life. You were a living miracle, and a future sword-wielding badass.

Hardly a minute later, your tortuous wait seemed to have come to an end, and you were able to get a good look at your new instructor.

Wait, is that...

“Good day, Lady [Name],” the knight greeted, bowing his head courteously. “My name is Sergei Garin, member of the Cavalry Brigade. I am humbled to be in your service.”

You couldn’t quite seem to hide the shock on your face. Sergei Garin. You knew this character. Fortunately, he wasn’t one of the yanderes—otherwise, you would’ve probably feigned a heart attack to get out of this situation. No, he was nothing but a supporting character, although a character that you admittedly had a soft spot for.

Why did you have a soft spot for him? Well...

Probably because he was fated to die.

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[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi can I request for the mutant mayhem turtles with fem s/o getting their first kiss.

First Kiss (Fluff)

MM!Turtles x reader

A/N: Of course you can. It’s quite some time ago since I’ve last done a MM x reader, so it’s about damn time. I haven't yet been able to watch Tales Of The TMNT, so I'm going to run with my impressions from Mutant Mayhem. Hope you’ll enjoy💚

Warnings: None, just fluff💚

Leonardo:

Leo had always imagined that his first kiss with you would be the result of something big. Like the romantic resolve of growing tension after he had saved you from some sort of danger, where you would find yourself staring into his eyes, realizing just how much you cared for him, and what a hero he was - not just for the city - but for you as well. Or maybe it would come as a result of him being truly brave, mustering up every fiber of his courage, telling you exactly how he felt, before rolling with the flow of his courage, kissing you like he was in control and secure.

But instead it went nothing like Leo had expected it to go. Matter of fact, it was actually quite awkward. Just lucky for him that you found his awkwardness sweet and adorable.

It happened in school. You were talking to Leo about something. What it was Leo wasn’t entirely sure of, as he had totally forgotten to listen. He had somehow gotten it into his head, that today was going to be the day. Today was the day he was going to tell you how he felt and kiss you for the first time.

But pure Leo got nervous. And in his nervousness and scrambling thoughts, he mixed everything up, cutting you off with an open eyed kiss in the middle of the hallway.

Your first date was Saturday that weekend.

Raphael:

You and Raph’s first kiss was not planned out. Neither of you had actually expected anything like that to happen that day, or any day for that matter. You were incredibly close friends, often hanging out together after school, doing the silliest things imaginable, both of you trying to keep your growing crushes secret from one another.

It happened in the lair, with no one but you, Raph, Splinter and Scumbug home. With Splinter and Scumbug in the kitchen and main living area, you and Raph had his and his brothers’ shared bedroom all to yourself, where you joked around, cracking jokes and playfully pushing each other around.

At some point, these playful pushes turned into a playfight, with the goal of overpowering the other, and maybe even tickling them. Neither you or Raph are really sure how it happened, but at some point during the playfight, you just kissed.

It was a quick kiss, but a little longer than just a peck, yet both of you pulled back looking shocked, processing what had just happened. Sure, both of you might be crushing on each other, but this was very much out of the blue, leaving you both wondering if you were in fact dreaming.

“Ah, fuck it”, Raph then said, pulling you in for another quick kiss, before the two of you would roll around laughing on the floor, to the point where even Splinter and Scumbug was wondering what was going on.

Donatello:

You and Donnie’s kiss was sweet and adorable to say the least. It wasn’t planned, but it was nonetheless welcomed by both of you with open arms and wide smiles.

You were at your place, sitting together on your bed, with Donnie watching over your shoulder as you played on your Switch, giving you small words of encouragement as you progressed one level after another.

You honestly didn’t need to do it. You hadn’t even made your way to the boss level, yet you suddenly turned around to look at Donnie, who looked back at you with raised brow muscles, as if to ask you what you were doing. However, he wasn’t able to ask you before you suddenly closed the space between the two of you, placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

Donnie’s eyes were wide when you pulled back, staring at you in what you could only describe as utter shock and confusion, his eyes moving over your face, as if he was trying to figure out what was going on, just from the look on your face.

That was when a smile suddenly broke on Donnie’s face, followed by a heat felt laugher of pure joy as he wrapped an arm around, pulling you closer to him with a; “come here, you”.

After that the boss level was a breeze.

Michelangelo:

Many people might have stories of how their first kiss was this big thing, with sparks flying, choirs singing, angel trumpets and all that shapy stuff people have made up since the dawn of humanity. But you and Mikey’s first kiss was not like that. It was very much down to earth, with little to no fanfare, happening like it was the most normal thing to happen between the two of you.

You and Mikey found yourselves sitting in the park, enjoying the summer sun while you sat on a bench, talking about whatever was on your hearts, while enjoying some sweet sugary snacks.

It was here, while you were talking about something minor that happened at school, jokingly saying that you needed Mikey to comfort you, that he suddenly pressed a peck to your lips.

You froze, your eyes wide and staring at Mikey, who just continued the conversation like this was a common thing for Mikey to do to you, popping another sugar candy into his mouth, handing another to you, trying his best to hold his smile at a minimum as he saw your cheeks turning a bright pink.

“Anything wrong?”, he asked, watching as you blinked at him, moments before you jumped on him, wrapping your arms around him as you pulled him in for another kiss through your roaring laughter, causing strangers in the park to turn and look at you two idiots being in love.