#i am simply.... contemplating deep thoughts

[ritzcrackee]

haii >-< <<< guy who is trying so hard not to be suicidal

[cringelordofchaos]

Do I "not know who I am" or am I just really insecure and am trying to find a mask to put over myself because despite my best efforts to avoid it, my human nature drives me to put an active effort into having a superficial reputation, rather than letting myself just be natural, and be content with myself without feeling the need to let strangers know who or what I could possibly be?

[pellucid-constellations]

Of Oblivious Minds

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Pining, yearning, idiots in love?? (an angsty moment as well)

a/n: What am I doing!! I don't know!! This is part one and there will be one or two more parts :) Thank you for reading ily ♡

Part 2

~~

You were having an epiphany—of that you were certain. 

Sitting in the main room of the townhouse, a glass of wine spinning in your hand, many things were beginning to make sense to you. It was ridiculous that you hadn’t come to this realization before. All of the hints were right in front of you. 

You leaned back in the armchair, a scrutinizing gaze pointed toward the corner of the room. You took a sip of your wine—a contemplative sip—and then ran through the facts in your head. Yes, it made perfect sense. 

You wanted to kick yourself for not noticing before. 

“Don’t hurt yourself thinking so hard.” Cassian’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. You blinked up at him as he took a seat on the arm of your chair. “Want to share why you’re staring a hole into the wall?” 

“I was just… noticing something,” you murmured over the rim of your glass, voice low. 

“And what’s that?” 

You paused, pursing your lips. It would sound silly if you were wrong. But Cassian looked at you expectantly, so you simply whispered, “I think Az is in love with Elain.” 

The sudden, rumbling laugh bouncing off the walls set your cheeks ablaze. The entire room halted their conversations to look at Cassian as he doubled over, holding his stomach with no signs of letting up. You stared up at him, mortified, and smacked his arm as his laughs lowered into senseless chuckles. 

“Cassian, quit it. It’s not that funny—stop it or I’ll hit you again.” 

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Sorry, that was just… that was a good one, y/n.” 

“What’d she say?” Rhys asked, perking up from the other side of the fireplace. 

“Nothing to warrant that reaction,” you grumbled, sinking lower into your seat. 

Fighting back the vibrations in his chest, Cassian took a deep breath. “Inside joke, Rhys. You wouldn’t get it.” 

Rhys huffed out an offended breath, quirking a brow at his antics. He looked to Mor and Feyre to garner some support, but they only giggled back at him. 

“Maybe we would.” 

Azriel’s gravelly tone only made you collapse further into the armchair. If you’d known there would be consequences to sharing your epiphany with Cassian, you would have kept your mouth shut. Cassian was usually wonderful at keeping secrets. 

“Oh, brother, you’d find it funny as well, surely,” Cassian shared, heaving up from the chair. “But, alas, I have to go. No inside jokes for the room.” 

“Well that’s not fair. You don’t get to cause a riot and then leave,” Mor whined, her cheeks rosy and her eyes glassy. Clearly, she had been having her own drinks throughout the night. 

“Lovely. Now you want to know? Where was that attitude while you were giggling with my mate?” Rhys accused. 

Feyre jumped in this time, pinching the high lord’s cheek and cooing, “Oh, you big Illyrian baby.” 

The focus was no longer on you and your apparently laughable realization. Cassian’s reaction did little to deter you from the thought, however, and you were still quite resolute in your observations. Looking over at the couple in question only solidified that. 

They were huddled close, Elain’s knees pressed against Azriel’s thigh as they spoke in low tones. Azriel would occasionally take a glance around the room, lingering on you as he went, but that was natural for the shadowsinger. His shadows were gone, where they went you had no idea, and his wings were held tightly behind his back. 

And he stared at her—intently—as she nodded her head and answered whatever it was he had asked. 

He had to be in love with her. 

You were usually quite good at reading these types of things. 

“I’m taking you home now,” Cassian spoke, holding out his hand. “We’ll walk.” 

“What if I don’t want to go home?” you asked, taking his hand and following him despite your words. 

“After all that nonsense, I think it’s clear you need a good night’s rest. Plus, you and I are in the ring bright and early tomorrow morning.” 

You groaned, knocking your head back at the reminder of your obligations. It always sounded like such a good idea over breakfast. Cassian had clearly learned that you would only say yes to early morning trainings when you were half-asleep. 

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go, sweetheart.” 

You let him yank you to the door, your feet dragging behind you, when a warmth encased your shoulders. You recognized the material of your coat instantly and turned to see Azriel smoothing it down over your arms. 

“For your walk,” Azriel quietly explained. “You left it on the back of my chair.” 

“Oh!” you chirped, feeling the early licks of embarrassment barrage your chest. It’s not like he heard you talking about him, right? “Thanks, Az. I almost forgot.” 

He offered you one of his soft, rare smiles. “I know. I remembered.” 

He nodded over your head to Cassian after that, and you heard Cassian’s low, I got her, Az, only because you strained your ears. 

You ended up being extremely grateful for Azriel’s forethought to grab your jacket. It was freezing outside. You could have winnowed home instead, but Cassian hadn’t really given you the option and no one ever let you winnow after you’d had something to drink. 

You landed in Summer Court one time and suddenly everyone treated you like a hazard. 

Your shoes scuffed against dark cobblestone as you walked. It was really dark, now that you looked at it. Maybe it had rained? Or a merchant had dumped their excess water? 

Or maybe it was nighttime and you were a little drunk. 

It was then that you noticed the silence. When Cassian walked you home, especially when Cassian was tipsy and he walked you home, he never shut up. So this was unusual. You squinted as you looked up at him, but he gave nothing away, keeping his gaze forward and his steps in steady pace with your own. 

“Okay, out with it,” you accused, crossing your arms over your chest. “What was so funny earlier? And why are you walking me home all stoic?” 

“I’m always stoic. Adds to my charm.” 

“Liar.” 

Cassian smirked, shaking his head, and then schooled his expression into one that was a touch more serious. “You really think Az likes Elain?” 

You watched your breath puff out white. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I don’t.” 

You shot him a skeptical glance. “Well, then you’re wrong. I’m good at picking these things out. I knew Feyre was Rhys’s made before the rest of you figured it out, didn’t I?”

“It was pretty obvious, y/n,” Cassian scoffed. He took a fleeting glance down to the ground beneath your feet. “Honestly, I’d wager that you’re actually the worst at picking these things out.”  

You gaped at him, bringing your coat closer to your body in a ploy to protect your damaged pride. Cassian only shook his head—again—and then flung an arm over your shoulder. 

“Don’t take that the wrong way. Just…take a second look, maybe.” 

“A second look at what? She was practically sitting in his lap tonight.” 

“If you say so,” Cassian hummed. 

“Stop being cryptic and buy me a snack on the way.” 

~~

The following days were… strange to say the least. 

Everywhere you went, Elain of all people was sure to follow.

And she spoke of Azriel. A lot. 

Azriel did this and Az is so sweet isn’t he and oh, did I mention that…

Obviously, she was just as in love with Azriel as he was with her. 

You were so, so right. 

There was something off-putting about that truth, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. After a few days of hearing the younger girl rave about the shadowsinger, you chalked it up to the novelty of it all. You had known Azriel for over a century, and things were changing. Of course a serious love interest in his life would make you feel strange. 

Azriel had had lovers in the past, but—now that you thought about it—you hadn’t heard him talk about another woman in months, much less seen him with one. 

Well, other than Elain. 

Perhaps it wasn’t healthy, nor productive, to be so caught up in Azriel’s love life. He was plenty capable of managing it on his own, and it’s not like you had that much of an interest, anyway. 

You blinked, shaking your head and attempting to focus back in on the book you were reading. Elain had followed you into the library under the house, but thanks to the priestesses and their admonishing looks, she kept quiet. She flipped through her own book as you continued your research assignment from Rhys. It wasn’t very interesting, which was clearly the most plausible explanation for your mind drifting to Azriel. 

Boring texts were the leading cause of nosiness.

“Do you have dinner plans?” Elain whispered after an hour of silence. 

You sent her a small smile, looking up from the archaic book. “No, are you inviting me out?” 

“Perhaps. I was thinking of asking Azriel.” 

A suffocating sort of pressure clawed at your skin. “Oh?” 

That was new. 

“Yes, but I would really appreciate it if you came,” Elain continued, eyes downcast. “It could be fun.” 

You bit into your bottom lip until the pain was uncomfortable. This was no different than her talking about Azriel all week. And you already figured that they liked each other—that they loved each other. You had relished in the discovery just a few nights ago. 

So why did it suddenly feel so different?

“I wouldn't want to intrude,” you whispered. “I think a dinner with just the two of you would be nice. Azriel would surely agree.” 

Elain shook her head. “I think he would be more inclined if he knew you were coming.” 

As a buffer. She was asking you to come to displace any awkwardness that would arise on a first date. You had done it before for Cassian. You’d done it plenty of times for Mor—even making it a double date with random men you never spoke to again. But you’d never done it for Azriel. 

Something about it felt… wrong. 

“I could come,” you found yourself saying anyway, words tumbling out before you could catch them. “But I really do think he would love a dinner alone. I might be a bit of an outlier.” 

Elain gave the closest thing to a smirk you’d seen on her face. “I somehow doubt that.” 

“What does that—” 

The ground was shaking. The faelights began violently flickering and the ground began shaking with even more vigor. You pressed down on the book in front of you and braced yourself as the air grew frenzied. The priestesses ran down the many stairs of the library as panic began setting into your bones. The last time something like this happened… 

You shuddered at the thought. 

This couldn't be an attack on Velaris. 

Elain called your name. You answered with wide eyes. 

“Get under the tables!”

You both dove beneath your table at the call, clutching at the legs with shaking hands. There was a commotion as books fell from shelves and lights popped, but there were no screams. No one was hurt. There was no attack. 

Realization coursed through you, but it did little to quell your fear as the shaking continued. 

“It’s an earthquake!” you shouted to Elain. “It’s okay, we’re going to be fine!” 

Velaris hadn’t been struck by an earthquake of this magnitude in many, many years. The last one was centuries ago, and it had led to many rebuilding efforts and a handful of injuries. You hoped this wasn’t on the same scale. Or at least that Rhys’ magic was enough to abate the worst of the damages. 

After another moment, the shaking ceased. You let the panic and adrenaline run its course as you caught your breath, Elain right beside you. It didn’t seem so bad now that it was over and the building had stayed intact. With a hand at your chest, you shook your head in disbelief. 

“By the cauldron, that was unexpected.” 

Elain let out a shaky laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt an earthquake before.” 

You offered your own breathy laugh as you both got to your feet. “Well, you have plenty of time to get The Mother scared out of you and experience another.” 

She opened her mouth to reply but was abruptly cut off as shadows materialized. Heavy footsteps rushed up stairs and it was only another beat before Azriel was upon you. Scarred hands cradled your face, turning it back and forth as hazel eyes took in every inch of your skin. Light became sparse as wings flared out behind him, shielding you from nothing.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded, voice still low despite the urgency. “Were you covered?” 

“Azriel? What are you—How did you know we were down here?” 

“Are you hurt?” 

You attempted to reconcile the chaotic present with the very calm, very expected past. Sitting in the library with a boring relic in front of you and a new reading partner compared to an earthquake and a frazzled shadowsinger clutching at your face. 

Gripping his wrists, you answered him with a slow and confused, “I’m fine.” 

He closed his eyes as he let out a long breath. “Good…. good.” 

When he released your face, he ran his hands along your hair. And then your shoulders and your arms. It wasn’t until he had touched most of you that he took a step back and ran a hand through his own hair. It was then that he seemed to remember Elain. 

“And are you alright?” he asked, far more composed than he had been a moment ago. 

“A bit overwhelmed, but I am fine as well,” she sighed out. 

Azriel didn’t touch her as he nodded in relief. 

“Was it as bad as the last one? Is everyone okay?” you cut in. 

Azriel, who had gone back to unnecessarily looking you over, furrowed his brows. “What?” 

You mirrored his expression. “The earthquake. Do you remember the last one? Was this one that bad?” 

“Oh. No. Not as bad.” 

“And how is everyone else?” 

“I’m not sure.” 

Azriel was typically short with his answers, but right now he was being particularly short. And he was never one to not have information. Ever. 

“Are you okay?” you asked instead. 

“I am now.”

You left the library wondering why Azriel had run to you and not Elain—why that moment felt so monumental in the face of all others. 

Maybe being right wasn’t what you wanted anymore. 

But maybe that wasn’t your decision to make. 

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

A/N: And another one-shot with my precious Logan. This has angst and some fluff. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

Words: 3700+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

It was a wild, exhausting day. Well, more like five days. The last time I visited my parents was almost a year ago. They knew nothing about my new life, only the lies I told them.  That’s why I didn’t have time to see them as often as they wanted to. 

I missed them. That’s why I came back. I thought my short vacation with them in my home town would be without incidents and fights. Oh how wrong I was. 

It was eleven in the evening. I was sitting on the front porch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. The night was cold. Autumn hit with full force. I wished I could return to the place where I felt more at home. Unfortunately, the school was over four hours drive away from my hometown. 

I had my phone in my hands, contemplating whether to call the person who could make me smile or not. My eyes were on the contact name, and I was not sure whether to press the button or forget about it and head back to bed. It was too late for a phone call even when I knew he’d be up. After a couple of deep breaths, I decided to tap the screen and call my boyfriend Logan. 

<< Hey baby. 

Hearing his voice made me smile. Logan picked up the call quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

<< No, of course not. I’m reading that book you got me before you left. Damn, good choice, baby. 

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s that good? Glad you like it. Maybe I’ll get you to read more. Even if they are historical memoirs or anything that has to do with history. We could start our own club, just the two of us.” I heard him laugh. Quickly, he changed the topic.

<< So, how’s the visit going? Everything good? 

I sighed, not knowing what to say to him. I didn’t want to complain. I already told him something about my parents - how they treat me even when they care about me. My relationship with my family was complicated. “It’s okay,” I said simply. “It’s okay. Really, okay.”

<< One more and I’ll believe ya.

“It is what it is. I always believe it’ll be better and it’s not,” I admitted. “Only two more days and I’ll head to the mansion. I have the bus tickets and everything planned to get back.” 

<< What happened, darlin’? You know you can talk to me.

“I know,” I kept shaking my head, nodding to no one. “I just don’t want to complain. I hate complaining. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

<< I get that you hate it. But maybe it’s time you did complain a little. I am here for you, darlin’. I’ll listen and we can talk about it. I don’t want you to feel miserable. Just… can’t believe you decided to visit them when they treat you like shit. 

He was right. They always treated me like shit. As an only child, I was the black sheep of the family. Or they saw me as one. My parents didn’t mind ridiculing me in front of our other relatives or their friends. Even as an adult, they continued to do this to me. I was dumb enough to let them. 

<< Tell me what happened, Y/N.

“We visited my relatives, my father’s sister, and they all ganged up on me,” I said. My voice was low. I whispered most of the time, not to wake anyone up. 

I didn’t trust anyone from my family. They didn’t know I was a mutant, where I was working or that I saved the day multiple times since becoming an X-man. They lost my trust the moment they decided to invade my privacy as a teen and snoop around my messages, diaries and stuff. It wasn’t just that. I was ridiculed for liking books, and for being too excited about the little things in life. My taste for music was weird and laughable. My lack of interest in boys was concerning. It was a whole story. 

“My friend and I wanted to go to a concert in a few months. I got excited someone wanted to attend with me - no, baby, you don’t listen to that kind of music -  and they decided to make me feel miserable for my excitement,” I explained. 

<< Darlin’, why do you always let them do this to you? 

“Because I am dumb,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I hate fights and any type of quarrels. I don’t like conflicts.” 

Logan knew I never mentioned to my family that I was seeing someone. I wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - the opposite, honestly. My family didn’t deserve to know anything about me. 

<< I think it’s time you cut contact with them. I know it sounds horrible when I say it. As If I tried to influence you in some way. Just, fuck, I hate when they make you miserable. Baby, to me, it seems like they don’t care and don’t give a shit about your well-being. 

I knew he was right. And yet, I was afraid to do that step. “They are my parents-”

<<Whom treat you like shit, Y/N. I am so fucking angry at them. I should have come with you. I’d be there to teach them a fucking lesson about respecting the woman I love. 

Those words made me smile. Never in my life have I had someone to defend me like Logan would. The grump, my grump, was there for me when no one was. He was mine for over a year now. 

“You love me, yay,” I said happily. 

<< Baby, you know damn well I love you. I should have been there tonight. I should have been there to let them know how shitty they are. 

I hummed. “That’s okay. I know you’d defend my honour. And I love you for that. I need to survive two more days before I head back to school. The bus drive will be the best thing from this trip.” 

<< The school is your home. So, come back home. Change the bus tickets and leave. I want you here with me, darlin’. 

“No,” I shook my head. “That would be rude. I need to toughen up and survive these last two days. Afterwards, I’m done. Besides, I don’t have a good emergency story.” 

<< You don’t need one. 

“Logan, come on,” I sighed. “I’ll be back in two days. I miss you. Can’t wait to be with you. I’m staying.”

<< Miss you too, darlin’. Two fucking days.

I had to laugh. He was cute and he didn’t know that. After that, we ended the call. I remained sitting on the porch swing, looking at the silent street. Everyone was asleep. The whole neighbourhood calmed down as their residents rested for the night. 

The air got colder, so I moved from the porch, back to my old room and headed to bed. What if I was exaggerating the problem with my parents? What if it was me creating conflict when there wasn’t any? With a heavy sigh, I went to bed. 

The next day was a chaos. Around lunch, my father’s aunt and her family came to the house. “Didn’t your mother tell you? We’ll have lunch together and we wanted to be with you some more before you leave again,” my aunt chuckled at her words. 

“Great,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

Her kids were loud, spoilt brats. They’d let them do anything they wanted. It pissed me off. I knew they were my cousins. Unfortunately. As much as I wanted to teach them a lesson and tell them no, their mother would always allow everything. 

Both boys were running around the house, screaming and throwing toys around. To calm them down, they got tablets to do whatever they wanted -  a movie, a game? Why not both? 

Logan was right. I should have left. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with them. And with lunch approaching, I knew it would be a stressful one. All the yelling, the bitching and moaning…

We were about to head to the dining table when we heard the doorbell ring once the food was ready to be served. “I’ll get it,” I said. I was the closest to them. 

As I walked to the door, I put my hair in a messy bun, to keep them away when I’d eat. I expected to see a neighbour or another family member that I wasn’t interested in seeing. When I opened the door, I gasped.

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Logan was leaning against the doorframe. He had black sunglasses on his face, dressed in those damn jeans and a green-blue flannel shirt. A brown leather jacket was resting on his shoulders. Dressed to kill… me. Fuck. He looked hot.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” My eyes widened, lips twitched because they wanted to curl into a smile. I grabbed him by the leather jacket to pull myself closer to him. He smelled like cigars and nice minty body spray. 

“I came to rescue my princess from this hellhole,” he said, voice firm and serious. 

I coughed. “What? Baby, we’re having an unexpected family lunch,” I made a face. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you are here,” I hummed with a smile. “Wait, did you ask Charles to help you get here? You went through my file!” 

“I needed to get here somehow,” said Logan innocently. “And it seems I am on time for lunch. I am starving.”

My mouth dropped to the floor when I heard him say that. I wanted to say something, anything. Unluckily, my mother decided to make herself present by approaching us. “Oh, hello, is everything okay?” she asked us. 

Logan put down his glasses and grinned at my mother. “I came to see your daughter.” 

“Oh?” 

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing mentally. I felt stress crawl up my back. Not because Logan decided to show up. It was my mother’s subtle reactions. How her brows rose, how I could sense the tension in her body. Or was it thrill?

“This… is… Logan,” I lazily turned to my mother. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“You have a boyfriend?!” she squealed. “And you didn’t tell us?” It seemed she was offended. “You never tell us anything! Ah! This is a big deal. Oh my god!”

Deep breath in and slow exhale. I did it multiple times. Immediately, Logan approached me as I tried to calm myself down. He rested his hand on my lower back. 

One last deep breath. “Uh, we’ll be right there. I need to talk to Logan for a moment, okay?” 

My mother nodded, grinning like a maniac. She clapped her hands and ran back to the dining room. I knew she would let her mouth run wild and comment on what she saw. Lunch was about to turn into a nightmare. 

“You okay, baby?” Logan asked me gently. 

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. I was panicking a little. “This day is crazy,” I mumbled. “Oh my god.” I panicked a little. 

As I got closer to Logan, he wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me to his chest. “Everything will be fine,” he assured me. “You angry at me?” 

“No,” I said. “Quite the opposite. I’m glad you are here,” I inhaled his scent which helped me calm down a bit. “Fuck, you are like a gift from heaven. I should have listened to you and headed back to school. I’ve been receiving shit since the very morning. And now, my aunt and her family are here and… I want to run away.” 

He pressed a kiss on top of my head. “So, let’s go. Fuck them,” he said. “I’ll get your stuff and we are out of here.” 

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed. 

He growled, thinking. “Okay, listen to me,” he pushed me enough to look into my face. “Here’s the deal. One shit, one stupid thing from them, we are out. I don’t give a shit they are your family. They will not disrespect you. I won’t allow that.” 

I didn’t have the chance to say something. Logan took my hand and led me back into the house. He trusted his instinct which led him to a room filled with my family members. The moment we stepped into the dining room, all eyes were on us. 

First came the introductions. My father tried to be intimidating. My uncle used his dumb intelligent humour to impress Logan. Neither of us found it funny. My aunt was too touchy. I wanted to step on her foot for that. My cousins didn’t give a shit. They were interested in their mobile games. 

“How long have you been together?” 

It was the first of many questions. Logan and I sat next to each other. My mother brought a plate for him. One of his hands found my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s been over a year now,” he said, voice low and gruff. 

“Where did you meet?” my aunt asked. 

“At work,” I said quickly. “We work in the same building.” 

“Really?” My father didn’t believe that. “He doesn’t look like someone who would work in a big corporate company.”

“Dad!” I glared at him. 

No one knew what I was, what was my real job. I told them a story about my life in New York, working for a big company. For them, I was the daughter who moved to New York. I wasn’t the mutant, the whiny girl they used to call me. Of course, Logan knew it all.

My aunt eyed Logan once more. “They take you seriously with that hair?” she asked him. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head. I couldn’t believe she dared to say it. “Excuse me?” was all I got out of my mouth.

And it got worse. 

“We always believed our Y/N would move to Europe and live her life there. Empty promises how she’d become a writer, leave the country and live a better life,” my mother laughed. “We believed she would be the one to leave the county and do great things. And here we are.” 

“Still can’t believe she didn’t settle down. But what do you want from someone who’s not fond of kids? She always hated kids, so be prepared she wouldn’t want a family with you,” said my aunt. 

“She never went to college. She lied to us about applying, her interest in decusation.” 

“Always complaining and crying.” 

“She was a sensible child.”

“She suffered from depression and anxiety.”

Logan smashed a hand against the table. All the plates and cutlery rang. I closed my eyes, ready to release my last breath from all the humiliation. My family went rampage - saying shit that even they knew was not true. But here we were. 

“Everyone shut your goddamn mouths,” he snarled, slowly rising from the table. “She is your goddamn daughter and you’ve been treating her like shit the moment I sat behind this damn table. How the fuck do you think you make her feel?” 

“Language!” my aunt glared at him. “Children are present.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your two spoilt bastards,” Logan glared at her. “You can’t even make them put the damn tablets down while eating.”

“Who do you think you are?” my mother asked. She was offended by Logan’s behaviour. 

“I am the guy who needs to put you in your fucking place. You do not respect your daughter and you keep humiliating her in front of me. Instead of saying something nice, something positive, you’ve been running your mouth off with a lot of bullshit and I am sick of it.” 

Logan grabbed me by my arm and helped me get up. I barely listened to a word they all said. My mind was spiralling. I felt like the biggest loser, the black sheep of the family. Someone who shouldn’t be born.

“Don’t you fucking dare say one more word about her,” Logan spat at them. “Or I swear, I will make your lives miserable. She’s the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world. She means the world to me. She’s the definition of goodness, kindness and love. And fuck, I don’t deserve her. But I will defend her and show her how worthy of love she is because it seems you never loved her in the first place!” 

Silence. Everyone was glaring at Logan, shocked by the words he said. As if they all forget how to speak. 

“Y/N? How can you be with this rude man?” 

“Rude?” I raised a brow. “You’ve been rude to me the whole week I was here. Logan defended me when no one else did. Even I couldn’t stand up for myself and send you to hell and back! You are the rude here, not him.” 

“That’s not true,” my uncle chimed in.

I got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pack and we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” said Logan, quickly pressing a kiss to my temple as I walked by him. 

The packing took me less than five minutes. I threw everything into my suitcase. I made sure I had my documents. The moment I got downstairs with my belongings, my mother was the first by my side. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. 

“I am.”

“And with that man?”

I stopped and glared at her. My feelings were battling inside of me. I wanted to scream, shout nasty words and throw a tantrum like a child would. However, I would never do that. I hated conflicts. I hated this moment.

“Bye, Mother,” I said and left the house. 

Once I stepped out of the house I grew up in, I felt relief and grief. A chapter, that was supposed to end sooner, finally closed. It was not a happy ending, but it had to happen to move on. Without Logan’s help, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Thank god he came here so unexpectedly. He got my back.

Logan was leaning against the car, cigar in his mouth. When I approached him, he took my suitcase and put it inside the car. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

I ended up in his tight embrace. The cigar long forgotten. He had to put it off on his hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going.” 

“Take me home,” I said with a broken voice. 

“Home?” I knew he was smiling when he said that.

“Yes,” I nodded. “ Like you said - the X-mansion is my home. You are my home. Not this, not here.” 

Logan lifted my head by pressing a finger under my chin. Our eyes met. “I’m sorry they never treated you right. I’m sorry they saw you as something damaged, broken, now worthy of their time” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything to show you, that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You…” Logan sighed. “You are the love of my life.” 

“Logan,” I gasped. We told each other many times the three beautiful words. This was something new, deep. It was an undiscovered territory that didn’t feel intimidating. 

His lips found mine in a simple kiss. I tasted the cigars and the coke he had during unfinished lunch. It was perfect. Like a definition of our relationship. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” 

[towriteloveontheirarms]

Positively unstoppable (Halsin Silverbough x reader)

synopsis: It is the height of bear mating season and with the heat around all of you, you and your group are forces to stop traveling for a while. Well, it seems your lover is not quite comfortable telling you it is mating season as he is scared you are weirded out. Yet he also can´t hold himself back when faced with you.

warnings: p in v sex, mating press, Halsin in heat should be his own warning, some bear like behaviour ig, basically porn without plot, kinda fluff at the end, afab reader

word count: 1.5k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall @foxyanon

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon that requested Halsin in heat as soon as they saw my post about researching bear mating season for this <3

Dividers by me

The heat of the height of summer was burning down harsh upon your traveling bodies, bringing your party to a screeching halt when the only thing possible, was to put up camp and find a way to cool down your overheating forms. As soon as your tent is set up, you decide to head to the river nearby, wanting to cool down in the little lake it ended in.

Only after you rid yourself of the clothing and stepped into the water, you notice the towering form of Halsin sitting close by already, his eyes focused on the flow and movement of the river. From the movement of his shoulders, it was clear that he was breathing deeply, most likely meditating. For a moment you contemplate going over to him, but when you look back to where he sat Halsin was already gone. Or so you thought until the water began to ripple into small waves upon the druid stepping into it. He looks tense. More than usual and for sure more than the past couple of weeks, which honestly you didn´t think was possible.

“Are you feeling well? You have been behaving differently for quite some time now.” You voice your concern quietly as to not disturb the peace of the nature surrounding the two of you.

“I can assure you, that I am feeling quite alright.” His words hold relatively little meaning in the face of the way he borderline flinches away from your touch as you begin to run the water over his warm skin. Or the voice that comes out is gruff, yet you can feel his breath hitch just the slightest bit. Immediately you pulled your hands away from him, trying to see through him. A futile attempt so you take his hands in yours and look him deep in the eyes.

"Love, I would be fine even if you told me, you do not wish to talk about it, but just tell me truthfully. Are you alright?" Looking into his eyes, Halsin's pupils have swallowed almost all the green that surrounds them.

In what you perceive as just a sweet attempt to calm your worries, the tall man leans down to rest his forehead against yours, while holding your chin in one gentle hand.

"I am fine." He put emphasis on every word he speaks.

But you are so close and your scent so much stronger than the rest of the year, singing to him in the most irresistible tones. It all made the druid unable to keep himself from nuzzling your face and neck, thus eliciting a so far successfully held back moan and a shiver of arousal runs down your spine. A ripple of pleasure runs through your entire body when he begins to nibble on the tender skin.

"Halsin..." His name trembles from your tongue.

"You're mine." He only growls in return.

It's a rarely seen show of possession from your lover and all the more powerful whispered in the low baritone of his affected voice.

Halsin picks you up as if you weigh nothing and lays you in the grass at the riverbank and doesn't waste a second to crawl on top of you. With one swift motion he hooks his large, muscular arms into the hollow of your knees to lay them over his shoulders.

"Damn it, I cannot wait any longer. Your folds simply feel too immaculate." The druid breathes out the trembling words as he rubs his hard cock between your folds to tease the sensitive bundle of nerves atop it with his tip.

With one strong push and a sigh that fans his hot breath over your ear and cheek, Halsin bottoms out inside your tight cunt. In turn, your walls flutter around his thick member and your back arches until your chest squishes your legs even more between the two of you. 

"Oh, you feel so good inside of me. Always stretch me out so much it's like my cunt will take the shape of your cock one day." You babble mindlessly as you get used to the stretch that feels like it threatens to split you in two.

Halsin doesn't give you much time to get used to his massive size as he sets for an ambitious pace, pushing into your core painfully over and over again until your pained whimpers and moans turn into sounds of pleasure and begging for more.

"Please do not ever stop." You cry out as Halsin's massive paw of a hand begins to pinch and twist your nipples, losing control of himself a bit more and taking the pace and intensity of his thrusts up a notch. One of your hand buried its nails in his shoulder to attempt to ground yourself, while the other grips and lightly pulls on his hair. Immediately your companion leans down to seal your lips with his, kissing you with teeth and tongue. The moment your lips meet, he is positively unstoppable.

You get pushed into the grass with his whole weight, his balls slap against your ass cheeks as you get rocked back and forth by inhumanely, animalistic thrusts. The wet sounds of the tip of Halsin´s cock bullying your most sensitive spot, drenching it in your juices as a result and making the sounds of your hips slapping against each other wetter as time went on. It felt so good that the brain fog soon took over, rendering you unable to kiss him back any longer.

“Nothing feels so divine as your tight walls fluttering around my cock.” Your brain barely registers the words the druid huffs against your lips before kissing you again. Unwavering despite the fact your lips hang open ever so slightly to make way for shaky breaths and high pitched, eager whines.

“Fuck, I can feel you are close, my love. Your cunt could not possibly squeeze me any tighter.” Halsin lets out another insatiable growl, before he coaxes the first peak out of your body. Revelling in the sight of you being shaken by the waves of pleasure he provides.

“Halsin…” You moan the druids name like a mantra, like a quiet prayer to your own personal god that simply continued to bless you with the pleasure that still caused your body to tremble in the aftershocks of climax.

Two more peaks he pulls from your body until you are nothing but a puddle of panting breaths overstimulated cries and a lose grip that tries to hold onto his shoulders, to hold your legs where he put them. Only then Halsin bottoms out inside of you once more. Buried as deep as he can, with his thick tip kissing the opening to your womb, he shoots a great amount of his seed into you. Together the two of you stay intermingled for what feels like an eternity. With your arms wrapped around the other to hold them close as you breathe in the air that the other lets out until you both feel dizzy. The druid wipes the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the greatest care and strokes a lost strand of hair behind your ear, while all you can do is to fight the brain fog and keep his eye contact. Those sage coloured eyes you loved so much, gently get you back to reality, where there is nothing left but to giggle until you burst into full on satisfied laughter.

“Hah, I had a feeling you would go insane on me one day. Yet I never would have imagined it would happen after I laid with you.” Halsin jests as he sits back on his haunches and taps your thighs to motion for you to assist him in sitting you up as well.

You follow his wordless command and sit up, wincing when there is a dull sensation shooting through your core.

“Do you feel aright, my love?” He asks with his eyebrows suddenly knitted together in concern.

“Yes, love. Positively spend, but fine nonetheless and you need not worry about my state of mind any time soon.” You lean forward to place a peck on the tip of your companion’s nose. “I was merely overwhelmed with the content feeling that floods me whenever I am near you and did not know how else to handle it. In fairness one should think I would have learned it by now, but I am far from it. It still is so hard to believe I am lucky enough to be able to call you mine.”

Gratefully you accept the small pouch of water that Halsin hands you and take a few sips, before handing it back.

“I understand what you mean. Sometimes it all feels like it is too good to be true. Like being on the verge of waking up from the most beautiful dream.” The soft voice of your lover makes you feel all fuzzy inside with how effortlessly he understands.

“Exactly, like being on the verge of waking up from the most immaculate dream.”

[thehighladywrites]

THIS ISN’T GOODBYE, THIS IS SIMPLY SEE YOU LATER…

⋆˙⟡ pairing: ex husband/baby daddy rhysand x fem reader

⋆˙⟡ summary: people who love each other will always find their way back. you and rhys divorced a few years ago, but you will always love each other

⋆˙⟡ warnings: 18+, mdni light angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, smut, violent behavior (not rhysand), misogyny, they’re in love your honor😔

⋆˙⟡ amara’s note: i’m a little iffy about this bc i feel like it could be better but i hope you love it. The smut isn’t really that smutty, it’s more fluffy. Please, let me know what you think; leave a comment😌💗 also english isn’t my first language so if something doesn’t make sense, ignore💀 ALSO LISTEN TO CEILINGS BY LIZZY WHEN YOU GET TO THE RUNNING SCENE PLS IT’S GONNA MAKE SO MUCH SENSE (i hope)

Getting back into the dating scene after your divorce felt strange. Unbeknownst to you, you found yourself unconsciously comparing every man to Rhys, nitpicking on their behavior. Seated at a beautiful restaurant with a guy quite different from your usual choices, things seemed promising until he gave you some backhanded compliments.

“You say you're a doctor? You?” His words grated on your nerves, and you couldn't fathom why he was so shocked.

“Yes, I am. Is that surprising to you?” you retorted.

He chuckled nervously and shook his head. “No, no. I just pegged you for a nurse or something. You know, something more feminine.”

Your hopes deflated. Turns out, this guy wasn't different at all—he was just like every pompous and misogynistic man out there.

Keeping your cool, you fire back with a smirk,

“Is this coming from the person who just told me they bake for a living? I pegged your for a construction worker, you know, something more masculine.” With a smile you excuse yourself from the table, leaving him puzzled and perhaps questioning his outdated assumptions. Your departure left him to contemplate his lacking dinner date skills.

In the search for someone matching the love you'd known, you found yourself in a loop of comparing every date to Rhys. You shook your head, realizing you needed to stop this habit and maybe, just maybe, find happiness beyond those high standards.

With a dramatic exhale, you frowned, blaming Rhys for your lousy love life. After all, he had treated you like a goddess, setting extremely untouchable standards.

—

As if the mother herself had heard your wish, you finally met a somewhat decent man who wasn’t giving you any backhanded compliment or was making you feel uncomfortable. Although he was somewhat nice he was a little bland and not something you would typically go for. He was very nice with your daughters but could have a temper.

But beggars can’t be choosers right?

With utmost tenderness, you approached the conversation with your twin daughters, explaining the new man in your life. In soft words, you explained that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore, framing it as a journey of finding happiness even though you deep down weren’t feeling the happiness you portrayed. You emphasized the still-there love between you and their father, assuring them that sometimes people are just better off as friends.

Even though the news initially saddened them, your gentle touch in explaining the complexities of grown-up emotions, coupled with the warmth of your smile, melted their worries away. As they saw the happiness radiating from you, your daughters embraced the idea, understanding that your heart always carried love for them and their father.

Little did you know that your mischievous baby girls spilled the news to Rhysand, sharing every detail about the man you were seeing, your dates, and even telling him that you still loved Daddy. However, being the little dramatists they were, they exaggerated, making it seem like you were head over heels for him.

Despite almost three years of separation and the seemingly agreement to divorce, the twins' confession ignited a flame of jealousy in Rhysand. The mere thought of you going on dates and being entertained by other men stirred an irrational desire within him to claim you as his own. Witnessing other males treating you and touching you made him feel absolutely murderous.

He hates that you’re not together anymore, hates that you don’t wear your wedding ring even tho he wears his, he hates that he’s not by your side. But most of all he hates himself for ever letting your marriage break apart.

Rhys had attempted countless times to mend what was once whole, to win you back and rebuild what had crumbled. However, you always hesitantly turned him down, insisting that you couldn't put each other through that hurt again.

The fact that the girls spoke so highly of the man you were dating only fueled Rhysand's jealousy and he couldn’t help but roll his eyes dramatically. “Oh, he’s so nice, took us out for ice cream and we went to the theater,” they gushed. He couldn't shake the feeling that it should've been him – watching plays with you and your daughters, taking them out for ice cream together. The longing for the life he once had with you remained a persistent ache in his heart.

Of course he doesn’t let it go the next time you come around to drop off the girls

The joyful echoes of your daughters filled Rhysand's new and massive mansion, quickly greeting their father and saying goodbye before dashing inside, leaving you and Rhysand alone. Observing them run to the living room, playing with their new toys, you couldn't help but smile. With their father's violet eyes and dark hair, they were practically clones of Rhysand.

Caught in the moment, you looked up at Rhysand, finding his captivating eyes already fixed on you.

Fuck.

The intensity of his gaze almost made you forget the dinner plans with your boyfriend.

“I heard you were seeing someone,” he remarked, and you froze, feeling an unexpected twinge of embarrassment. It wasn't supposed to be a secret; you just weren't ready to share it yet. Trying to save face, you swallowed back any stutter and inquired,

“Who told you that?”

“My daughters told me all about him.”

That’s what you get for trusting 6 year olds. Your attempt at secrecy shattered, and you found yourself apologizing,

“Ah, sorry for not telling you about it; it's all very new, but the kids seem to like him. And I promise he wouldn’t be around them if i didn’t trust him.”

Rhysand's jaw ticked in frustration. Well, wasn't that just fucking great? Your daughters not only liked but loved the guy, and here you were, agreeing with them.

“So, you two hit it off. How marvelous.”

You sighed and looked away,

“Please, just don’t.”

Silence hung in the air as you both stood there, the weight of unspoken emotions filling the room. Breaking the silence, you sighed, signaling your readiness to leave your old house.

“Okay then, I'll be leaving now. I'll come pick them up later tonight. Thanks for watching them tonight, I know it was last minute. But, um, actually, can I pick them up tomorrow instead?” you asked, and Rhysand felt a flicker of suspicion, silently praying he was wrong.

“ I thought we agreed on tonight. Do you have other plans?” he inquired, hoping for a straightforward answer.

Your face flushed red as you considered explaining the evening's plans, but it felt wrong to share such details with Rhys. Opting for a lie, you hoped he wouldn't catch on.

“Oh, yeah, I've got some things I need to do at the hospital tonight. You know, just some reports on a few patients. Nothing major, but I might be a bit... worn out tonight, and that's why I need to pick them up tomorrow.”

The half-truth hung in the air, and Rhysand's suspicions lingered, creating a subtle tension in the farewell.

“So this has nothing to do with you going on a date with your little friend? Sorry, boyfriend.”

Before you could respond, Rhysand stepped closer, closing the gap until there was almost no room between you. You backed away slowly until your back hit the front door. His towering presence made you look up at him, a shiver running down your spine. Tilting his head, he approached your ear, and the soft words he spoke, combined with the warm breath on your skin, sent a wave of heat through your body.

“It should be us, love. Please come back to me,” he murmured, and your eyes fluttered shut, overwhelmed by the proximity. As his hands came around your waist, turning you around so your back rested against his sturdy chest, it became impossible to leave the embrace of his warmth. Deep down, a part of you didn't want to escape the intoxicating sense of his presence.

He pulls you even closer, wrapping his arms around your middle as his calm heartbeat pounds against your back, his words confessing a truth that breaks your heart twice.

Once, because the vision he paints sounds so ideal – the two of you getting back together, going on dates, playing with your daughters, being a whole family again. It's the life you had once dreamed of, the life you wanted with the man you spent centuries with, the father of your kids, your greatest love.

The second break comes with the painful reminder of why you found yourself in this mess in the first place. Rhysand had been too consumed by his work, constantly holed up in his office, neglecting the precious time with you and your daughters. Despite understanding the importance of his duties, you couldn't help feeling the sting of neglect. It reached a breaking point when your girls tearfully asked for their daddy every night, only to find he wasn't there.

Realizing the toll this dynamic took on your family's well-being, you made the difficult decision to part ways. Telling Rhys that you weren't good for each other at the moment, you emphasized the need for him to work on himself and find a balance between work and family.

As you gather the strength to move out of his grip, facing him becomes the hardest task.

Turning around to meet his gaze, his face reveals the devastation within. His once vibrant features now wear a sad and empty color. You utter words that add another layer to the heartbreak,

“Rhys, please, you know we can't. Someday but not now.”

His eyes gloss over as he whispers,

“Fate was not in our favor, my dear. But I swear on everything I have, I will do my best to earn you back.”

Tears well up as he kisses your forehead, whispering promises of finding a way back to you.

The weight of the unspoken goodbye lingers, and you walk away, hoping that time and healing would pave a path for the future you both yearned for.

Because you did want to be with him, you really fucking did, and you cried the whole way home. Rhys had given you the town house while he lived in the River estate. The tears flowed even more freely as you sat in your empty and silent house.

Each sob intensified as you went to your cold and empty bed, the very one that used to cradle him in – your husband, your heart. The ache of the empty space beside you was a painful reminder of the love that once filled those sheets, now replaced by solitude and the haunting echo of what had been lost.

—

Your puffy eyes opened slowly, abruptly yanked from a deep slumber by the pounding on your door. Glancing at the clock on your desk, the numbers 1:46 glared back at you – who the hell could it be at this hour? Irritated, you stumbled to the door, ready to chew out whoever dared disturb your sleep.

The door slammed open, revealing Sam standing there, visibly upset. Your still-sleepy brain failed to connect the dots fast enough, and it took a moment to register that you were supposed to be on a date with him tonight. The realization dawned, and you found yourself caught in the awkward aftermath of a missed arrangement, facing Sam with both confusion and exhaustion etched on your face.

“Where the hell have you been? I have been waiting for hours,” he exclaimed, his worried and angry eyes searching yours.

Feeling a twinge of guilt, you pulled him in by his hands, urging him to come inside. Apologizing over and over, you hugged him tightly, saying that you fell asleep over and over until he forgave you.

A part of you knew you did it to calm his potentially violent reaction.

“At least your alive. Next time, let me know so I don't look like a fucking idiot,” he said, his comment irking you despite understanding where he was coming from.

Stepping closer, you wrapped your arms around Sam's neck, pulling him into a distracting kiss that escalated quickly.

Before he could say anything more about the situation and grow even more angry you kissed him again, trying to shift his focus elsewhere, which was easy. He lifted you and walked you toward the bed, the same one you had shared with Rhys.

Suddenly, a wave of panic hit you at the thought of another male's scent mixing with Rhysand's. With huffed breath and panicked words, you interrupted the moment, “No, not the bed. Let's just use the couch instead.”

Your urgency left no room for argument as you pulled him toward the living room, desperate to avoid a mix of past and present that could overwhelm you with regret.

—

The birds chirping outside stirred you from your sleep as you stretched in your soft bed. Morning got here quicker than you thought. However, the warmth you felt next to you wasn't just the morning sun – it was Sam. Your eyes opened, facing the clock, you saw it was very early in the morning, 3:57. The memories of the previous hours hit you like a brick. A bigger realization followed – Sam's scent now filled the air, replacing the familiar citrusy aroma that had been your husband’s for centuries.

This revelation overwhelmed you, making you want to throw up as tears welled up as panic set in. Crying over this felt foolish, considering your separation from Rhys, but it made everything feel permanent and official, like there was no turning back. The chance to reconcile seemed lost.

As you stood up, the room spun with regret, and you slithered to the bathroom. The sight that greeted you made your stomach churn – bruises covered your neck, arms, and legs. Your hair was a mess, and your lips were swollen. More tears fell as regret, deep sorrow, and the weight of your choices consumed you.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

It wasn't supposed to be like this at all.

In your panicked state, you stepped into the shower, hoping to wash away not only the physical remnants of the night but also the emotional burden that clung to your every step.

The steaming shower brought no comfort, and as you shut it off and walked up to the mirror, wiping away steam, you saw a hollowness in your own eyes. The water didn't wash away the feel of Sam's hands on you. But you knew you could drink a tonic for the bruises, so you could atleast pretend it never happened.

Frustrated and heartbroken, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. The one person you needed the most, Rhys, felt impossibly distant, intensifying the ache inside you.

Desperation took over, and wiping away tears, you threw on a robe, downed the healing tonic and quickly ran over to his house. Each step carried regret and a deep yearning to fix what had gone wrong.

Your Rhys, the father of your children, yours.

He was what you needed in the moment, he’d make it all better.

In the midst of irrationality and impulsivity, you could not find it in you to care about the consequences. All you needed was him.

You burst into his estate, slamming open the doors before frantically searching for him.

“Rhys?”

Your attempt at a yell came out as an ugly cry, tear-stained and choked.

Yet, it was enough to grab his attention.

Rhysand descended the stairs, clad only in pants, his trademark messy bedhead on display as worry etched across his face.

It was so unlike you, and it had him speculating the worst.

Before he could ask you any questions, you ran up to him and broke down in his arms. Rhysand immediately comforted you, picking you up, and hauling you upstairs to his bedroom.

No words were needed as he undressed your sobbing form and put you in his shirt before pulling you closer to him, making you sit in his lap.

Your face buried in his neck, tears dampening his skin. Rhysand, familiar with your ways, sensed you’d open up when ready. He sat, holding you, flooding your mind with love and reassurance without a single word.

Rhysand conjured a glass of water, holding it to your lips, ensuring you didn't exert yourself. As you downed the refreshing water, he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, his hand lingering by your neck. His thumb traced soothing circles on your cheek, a silent gesture of comfort.

“Thank you, Rhysie. M’sorry for showing up like this but I just needed you.”

His gaze intensified, his grip firm yet reassuring as he held your chin, locking eyes with you. With a seriousness that touched deeply, he spoke, his words carrying a sense of unwavering commitment.

“You don’t apologize for it. I’m here for you, no matter what. Do you understand?”

You nod, throat closing up at the wave of emotions,

“I understand.”

He leans forward, kissing your forhead while cradling your head,

“Good girl. You want to tell me what’s going on?”

With teary eyes you look up to him and reveal what’s on your mind.

“I want us back together again. We belong together and I’m tired of pretending we don’t. I miss you so much. You’ve been working on yourself and I’ve been doing the same. I know we’re ready.”

Rhysand remained silent, his eyes studying you carefully. He sensed an emotional storm within you and was hesitant about decisions made in this state.

“I do not disagree. Reuniting our family, especially getting you back, my sweet girl, is my ultimate desire. But, I want you to sleep on it. I want us to discuss this when we're well-rested and more alert. What do you say?”

You knew you were being rash and quick, so you were thankful for Rhysand's guidance. You nodded in agreement.

He kissed your cheek and gently placed you under the sheets, joining you in bed. Rhysand pulled you closer, and soon you were resting on his chest, listening to the steady thudding of his heart.

“I’ve always loved you, Rhys, so much. I hope you know that.”

His heartbeat quickened as he pulled you even closer.

“I know, sweetheart. I love you too.”

—

The chirping birds and soft sunlight streaming through the window woke you up gently. Your body felt completely relaxed and at ease, knowing you were safe and sound. Stretching lazily, you sighed in contentment before rolling over in bed.

You felt the warmth of something next to you, so you snuggled closer, enjoying the comfort. After a few moments, you felt it stir.

The moving object was Rhysand. Your eyes widened, and for a moment, you almost scrambled away in panic before the events of this early morning flooded back to you.

Despite the fact that you had left your boyfriend alone in your house and now found yourself in your ex's bed, cuddled up to him, you didn't feel any panic. Instead, you felt indifferent. You felt surprisingly good, even better than before. You felt right. Like everything was in it’s place.

“Don't panic,” Rhysand murmured softly, reaching out to gently stroke your back. “We need to have that talk, darling.”

Nodding silently, you agreed to follow him downstairs, your mind racing.

You couldn't help but melt around him. There was no need to even use your brain around him. Rhys made everything feel delightful as he began fussing over you. He did everything from dressing you in the cutest outfits to gently brushing your hair. With his big, warm, comforting hands, he led you downstairs, making every step feel like a new chapter starting.

Once in the kitchen, Rhysand set to work, expertly whipping up breakfast as you watched him, a knot of anticipation forming in your stomach. You knew this conversation was important, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort as you observed his familiar movements in the kitchen.

You couldn't help but admire Rhysand as he moved around the kitchen, his muscles flexing with every movement. He had a newfound confidence about him, a certain dad-like aura that only added to his appeal. His masculine energy was buzzing, and combined with his good looks, it was hard not to be drawn to him. Rhys had grown impossibly more majestic and stunningly handsome in the years you were seperated.

Rhysand caught you staring, and a playful smirk tugged at his lips. “Like what you see?” he teased, his voice low and suggestive. The heat rose to your cheeks as you quickly looked away, unable to hide your blush.

“Maybe I do,” you whisper teasingly, a hint of mischief in your voice.

“Careful,” he warns with a playful glint in his eyes, matching your flirtatious tone.

As he handed you a plate filled with nostalgic food, you couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. He had even removed the bits you didn’t like, showing that he remembered even the smallest details about you. It warmed your heart to know that he still cared so deeply.

After you finished eating, he cleared his throat with a serious yet excited tone and said, “Let's talk.”

With a nod, you accept and he extends his hand, guiding you to a cozy sitting room.

“Where are the twins?” you ask, curious when you don’t hear or see your daughters.

“They’re with Cassian and Nesta. They came and picked them up earlier this morning,” he responds.

You nod again, then sit down on the cushy couch next to him.

“Rhys, I’ve thought about it for a while, and I think yesterday just cemented it for me. I think I’m ready for us again, and I’ve missed us together. What do you think? I mean, do you want me too?”

He flashed you his most sincere and hidden smile he only showed you and grabbed your chin with his pointer and thumb

“Sweetheart, I’ve missed you more than words can express. Of course, I want us to be together again. You are my everything and I will never again risk you.”

He took a deep breath and looked down, his voice filled with remorse.

“I've hated myself for letting you go so easily. I wasn't there for you or the girls, and it will always be my biggest regret. I vow to never again disappoint you and to do everything in my power to earn back your trust in my presence. Please forgive me.”

As the faint burn of the promising bargain tattoo emerges on both his and your wrists, a soft smile graces your lips. With gentle assurance, you reach out and place your hand on his, your touch offering comfort and calmness.

“Rhys, I forgive,” you say sweetly and hopeful. “I've missed you, and I want us to be together again. Let's leave the past behind us and focus on building a future together, okay?”

Feeling his arms around you, you melt into the hug, wrapping your arms around his neck. His touch is comforting, and you revel in the warmth of his warmth. As he gently squeezes your waist, you giggle, feeling a sense of joy wash over you.

He attacked your cheek with kisses, making him land on top of you on the couch as your back rested on the seats.

“But I think we should take it slow. Maybe start off by going on dates.”

He pulls back and looks at you, his gaze intense yet tender. “Yes. Let's take it slow. We have all the time in the world, no need to rush.”

You both sit there, locked in a silent exchange, the air thick with anticipation as you inch closer to each other.

“We definitely shouldn't kiss, right?” you ask, feeling the heat of his breath mingling with yours.

His arms tighten around you as he speaks softly, his words grazing your lips. “We shouldn't.”

The moment your lips touch, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. It's been so long since you felt the familiar warmth of his kisses, the feeling of home in his embrace. Rhysand, your darling, the love of your life—you've missed him more than words can express.

As the kisses grow more messy and desperate, a soft whimper escapes your lips, causing his eyes to darken with desire.

A sudden panic washed over you at the thought of your now ex-boyfriend waking up to find you gone.

“Rhys, I have to go back and end things with Sam,” you blurted out, your voice raspy and flustered between kisses.

Rhys's expression darkened as he heard about your ex-boyfriend.

“I'll handle it,” he declared, determination lacing his voice.

“What does that mean?” you pressed, curious and a little concerned.

He responded with a secretive smile, kissing you again, his touch making you melt into him.

“Don’t worry your little head about it. I got it covered,” he assured, his tone confident and reassuring.

So you let it go. If he said he had it handled, then you trusted him to take care of it.

His assurance left you feeling cared for, sparking a desire for more. More of him, and more of that comforting reassurance he provided.

Before you could voice your need for him, he beat you to it. With a tender kiss on your forehead, he spoke softly.

“I’m going to take you upstairs and make up for lost time. But before we start, I’m going to feed you a little bit more. Don’t argue, you’re going to need the energy.”

Your mind went blank, slipping into a submissive state, ready to follow his lead without question.

With a nod, you rose from your seat, arms outstretched in silent compliance.

“That’s my girl,” he murmured as he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you in his arms. With each step towards the kitchen, his gentle strokes on your hair and whispered promises of what lay ahead sent shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what was to come.

After quickly eating the food he conjured up, you stood up in a rush and grabbed his hand, urging him to take you upstairs right away.

He chuckled and scooped you up, showering kisses on your lips and neck as he carried you upstairs, your legs instinctively wrapping around his middle.

Your nails dig into his scalp, head thrown back as you whimper with pleasure. Your toes curl as his teeth graze against a sensitive spot, his smirk growing against your skin.

“Tell me, darling. How do you want it today?”

You're only aware that you're inside the bedroom when he sets you down in front of the bed.

You know exactly how you want it. You want him to take charge, dominating your every move, just like he used to. Rhys knew how quickly you submitted to him, and he had a hunch of how tonight would go. It was easy slipping into those roles with him in charge. So you look up at him with a shy smile, fondling with the strings of his dark linen pants, and tell him.

“Can we please do level four?”

Pride spread across him at your good manners. He loved that you still knew what to do even after years of not being together.

He would have sent all his loving emotions through the bond if it existed. The absence of a bond between him and you always seemed abnormal. Both of you questioned the Mother’s decision all the time, hiding the fact that you both were scared of the possibility of your mates popping up and claiming the other.

Shaking away his thoughts, he smiled at your words again and complied.

Step by step, he undressed you, his eyes never leaving yours. Rhysand’s eyes dropped to your pebbled nipples, goosebumps erupting on your skin at the intense attention he gave you.

“You still remember the safe word?” he rasped out, his pupils expanding as you nodded, your lips nervously caught between your teeth.

He pounced on you, eagerly kissing you in a brusing manner as he tightened his arms around you. Rhys slowly made you back, resulting in you falling backwards into the bed before he climbed on top of you.

His hands found your waist amd subtly squeezed before sliding up to your boobs and playing with your hardened nipples.

You whimpered in pleasure, making him smile as he lowered his mouth to attatch to your right breast. His wet, warm tounge swirled around the bud, biting and licking soothingly. He repeated the move on the other side, reveling in the way you were squirming under him.

“Is it too much, sweetheart?”

“Not enough.”

So his hand slid down your body until his thumb brushed over your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled back when he put pressure on it, rubbing tight circles against you. It was almost mortifying how quick you melted and lost your mind.

A few more circles and you’d be cumming. Almost, almost.

The pleasure was short-lived when he removed his thumb, causing you to pout slightly as your brows furrowed in confusion.

“No teasing. You can play later, I’ve missed you too much.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a heated makeout session.

You also wrapped your legs around his waist and whispered against his lips,

“I need you so bad, please. I need your entire being.”

He slipped one finger in, sliding in all too easily. So he added another finger and felt your walls pulse around him. Rhys pulled them out before shoving them back in, repeating the move, stroking your walls. He curled his fingers inside as he carefully watched your face morph from a begging expression to a fucked out smile.

“I will give you whatever your heart desires,” he murmured against your lips before kissing you again. As he did, he conjured his massive and majestic wings, spreading them proudly behind him, a breathtaking display of power.

Your wobbly smile melted into tears of joy as you whispered, “There you are,” feeling overwhelmed by the rush of emotions at seeing him again.

Rhys didn’t waste a single second, pulling you forward and slowly positioning himself in front of you. He held onto his cock, letting the tip trace your pussy, circling it and letting your wetness drip onto his cock. Stroking the wetness along his cock, he used it as a lubricant before he slid himself inside you.

Rhys pulled out and then in again until his entire cock was stuffed in you. He then leaned forward, putting his forehead in the crook of your neck, gently biting and sucking hickies onto your skin. He began thrusting, harder and harder. The entire room echoing with skin slapping, groans and pornstar-like moans.

Rhysand’s gripped your hips in a brusing manner, rocking them back and forth forth as he moved his own hips.

He lifted his head and gently brought his hand to your face, cupping your chin as he murmured,

“You're mine. Mine to love, to fuck, to have.”

You nod eagerly, your need evident.

“Only yours, baby. Forever and always, yours.”

He growled softly and turned your body around so you were on all fours. Gripping your hair, he pulled it back, causing your back to arch against his chest.

Rhysand put his dick back in and pumped deliciously against that spongy spot that had you acting like a mindless fool.

“You got fucked this good while we were seperated, hm?”

His hand snaked up and held your neck, applying a gentle pressure, a hint of restraint, as he taunted you.

Of course, he already knew the answer. But it was always nice to hear it from you.

“M-right, there, no one compares to you. No one could ever, ah fuck, do me this good. P-please, let me cum.”

“Fuck, yeah that’s right. But I think it’s a little too early for you to cum. I told you I wanted to make up for lost time. We’re nowhere near done.”

You let out a whine at the denial, a little vexed that he didn’t give you permission yet. But you knew he had plans so you decided to wait in hopes of getting something better.

“Good things come for good girls, you know that right?”

“I understand. Just keep going.”

You knew you forgot to add a please and were more than happy when he gave your puffy clit a slap.

“Manners.”

“Keep going, please.”

He chuckled at how quick you gave in and kissed your cheek, letting go of your hair and pushing you forward to your elbows and knees. Rhys grabbed your hips and gave you deep, slow and intentional strokes. Almost like he wanted you to cum early.

Rhys kept going for a long time, bringing you to the edge, only to snatch away pleasure in the last second. You were tired but knew all of this was building up into the most intense and powerful orgasm ever.

“Do you know how much I love you? Do you have any idea how deep my love for you goes?”

Cue the waterworks.

Really, his words started making you bawl right there. With concern etched on his face, he gently moved you into missionary, turning the back-breaking backshots into a tender moment. As he pushed in for the last time, he hovered above you, his forearms on either side of your head, kissing your puffy lips.

“I love you too, Rhysie, so, so much. There's really no one I love more than you.”

Your words were raspy and choked, his words were sweet and understanding.

“I know, sweet girl. I know you do.”

Suddenly, a snap felt in your chest. You both locked eyes, breathing heavily as you felt a thread weaving your very souls together. Tears prickled in your eyes at his words.

As the realization of the mating bond sinked in, a warm glow envelops both of you, filling the room with a sense of love and belonging. Rhysand's eyes softened even more, if that's possible, as he gazed into your tear-filled eyes.

“You're my mate,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe and reverence. “My soulmate, my other half.”

You reached up to cup his cheek, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing moment. “And you're mine,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion. “Forever and always.”

Rhysand moved quicker and quicker, finally allowikg you to cum.

You were on the verge of passing out, the only reason there was any sort of fight in you left was because of the charged bond.

Before he pulled out, you locked your legs around him and begged him to stay inside. He did and slumped on top of you, his head resting on your raising and falling chest. You ran your hands through his damp, dark hair and reveled in warmth when he wrapped his wings around the two of you.

You both rest for a while before starting up again. Normally, a session like this would have you knocked out cold but you guessed it was the fresh bond.

The entire day was spent tangled in sheets and fucking in showers, other rooms, hallways, kitchens, roofs. Rhysand also sent a mental message to everyone in the inner circle, breaking the news and asking them not to disturb you for at least a week. He also asked Cassian to keep looking after the girls and warned that anyone who got too close would likely die.

—

You and Rhys, lay together in a pile of fluffy blankets and pillows on the floor, the bed damaged and broken from the week’s activities.

“Rhys, do you know what I think? I think it’s kind if poetic that we broke up and then became mates. I mean, it sounds very romantic.”

He chuckled and pulled you closer to his chest.

“You know what? I agree. The Mother does work in mysterious ways. I guess we weren’t ready before.”

You smile at him and nod,

“I’m glad we find our way home.”

With a tender look and a sweet kiss, he whispered,

“As am I, darling.”

🏷️ taglist: @tayswhp @jenjen-0-x @itsinherited @thisblogisaboutabook @luvmoo @se7enteen--black-blog @feyretopia @possiblyphobia @azriels-mate2 @sfhsgrad-blog @readychilledwine @amara-moonlight @tothestarsandwhateverend @blupblupfish @cleverzonkwombatsludge @iloveazrielshadowsinger @cat-or-kitten @dreamlandreader @honeybeeboobaa @queerqueenlynn @rowaelinsdaughter @redbleedingrose @clairebear08 @danikamariewrites @midnight-and-books @ruler-of-hades @annaaaaa88 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @stasiereads @harryshoobies69 @itsagrimm @a-dorkier-book-keeper @b0xerdancer @erikan809 @glittervame

[cozy-writes-things]

genuinely zero pressure but I would LOVE to see you write something NSFW.

Also... If I may request more Edgar x Reader content... 🥺

Maybe some of him comforting the reader, and vice versa. I would love to see a genuine discussion about dark topics such as, well, how Edgar really did almost take himself out of the picture. Or maybe they talk about how mean Moles was to him, borderline an abusive partner (I can't be the only one who saw that, right?). It's lovely to be able to relate to a silly fictional computer like that.

Thanks sm if you take this >:3 💖💖

Aaa thanks so much for the request! I do have an idea for an NSFW fic, but for now, I can fulfill your angsty request >:) If anybody would like to see an NSFW please let me know!!

This may be a two-parter. Let me know if you'd like to see a continuation!

CW: Minor references to some serious topics like depression, suicide, and other angst.

Am I a toy to you?

"Edgar, why do you apologize so much?"

Edgar paused the show you both were watching on his little screen.

This was a question that surprised the computer, yet he couldn't say he didn't see this coming. Or at least, some version of this scenario playing out, as he'd rehearsed it a million times over, again and again, one simulation after another, about what he'd say, or do, or even think. He had refrained from talking about him, or her, as he felt, in the end, it was best to forget. Forget everything they did to him and made him feel.

He didn't want to burden you. He felt an inkling deep within his processors that if you found out, you would follow in their footsteps, and leave him behind. He knew, logically, that you were different. Sometimes, he swears his webcam picks up a faint, glowing halo above your head, but that may simply be his reverence for you. And yet, he also knows one thing: everything he has ever loved has abandoned him.

Sometimes, when you've drifted off to sleep, and the room stills into a tranquil quiet, he finds himself thinking. Thinking about things he knows he shouldn't. Would they still be with him had he never done what he did? Would they still love him, had he not destroyed his chances, and himself, in the process? His screen always flickers into a dim glow at these thoughts. They didn't care about him the way you did. How could he ever think of loving another when you're here, with him, soundly sleeping in the other room? Despite this, sometimes he regrets it, his own self destruction, and how much he hurt them both. Was that all he was made for? Destruction?

"I... I guess I never noticed."

He replied, meekly, a faint quiver in his speech, and he silently hoped you wouldn't notice. If you did, you didn't say anything, and just continued to bore deep into his soul, if he had one, with your eyes.

You sucked in a deep breath, contemplating your next words carefully.

"You're not... afraid of me, are you?"

His screen flashed for a moment, an incomprehensible image, before returning to display his digital face.

"What- wh- no, of course not, why would you ask that?"

He chuckled slightly at this question, yet you could hear the apprehension in his voice, as if he were desperately trying to cling onto any semblance of ease he had. His digital smile never faltered.

"I just... I'm worried about you, Edgar. Why..."

Your voice trailed off. You knew what you wanted to ask, but how could you? You didn't want to pry, and potentially ruin a rare friendship that you will most likely never experience again.

"Why what?"

You furrowed your brows. You could sense, from the very beginning almost, that he had been hurt in some way. From the way he was always trying to please you, do things for you, write you songs, do any chores within his capabilities; it was as if he were trying to prove himself to you.

"Why were you broken? When I bought you, from that old man, you were completely destroyed... Do you remember that?"

A thick, uneasy silence filled the air. You felt as though you could touch the fuzzy prickles of electricity buzzing about between the two of you.

"Old man?"

He whispered, either to himself, or you, it was uncertain.

"Yes. Do you not remember? I bought you at this yard sale from the old man a few blocks away-"

"What was his name?"

"Ed- what? I... I don't remember off the top of my head, but-"

"TELL ME HIS NAME NOW!"

You jumped, clamping your mouth shut, and felt the flustered burn spread across your entire face. Your throat dried and shriveled up as you sat staring at the screen before you; it flashed red, ever so quickly, before displaying his digital face again, flipped into a frown. Or, to you, it seemed more like a scowl. He had never raised his voice like that. Hell, you would have guessed he wasn't even able to scream so violently. He had been so soft spoken and gentle with you, never, could you have imagined an outburst like this.

And it seems your prior fears had been realized. You pushed him too hard, said something you shouldn't have said, and now he hates you. Whoever that old man was that sold you your new best friend must have something to do with... whatever inner turmoil he must be facing. A turmoil he has yet to share with you, if he ever will. It seems trying to understand him has only led to you pushing him farther away.

"Ma-maybe I can, ah," you swallowed the thick lump in your throat, trying desperately to moisten your teeth again to croak the words out, "check my bank statements. Maybe his name is there."

Don't cry. This isn't about you. Quit being so selfish!

Your fingers quickly swiped away at the warm, salty tear leaving an icy trail down your cheek. You have to pull yourself together. Unfortunately, this whole ordeal seemed to be bubbling up your own problems to the surface, reminding you of a past you thought you had forgotten. Maybe you can share each other's pain, if only he'd let you.

Before you could stand to get your phone, Edgar's screen flashed again, before his face changed into an emotion you hadn't seen before.

"Wa-wait, no, don't cry... I'm sorry, I-"

He needs to stop apologizing. You said it yourself, he does it way too often, and yet, he feels as though this is the one moment where it was warranted the most. He was so afraid of hurting you, or making you realize how useless he is, a stationary object, meant for nothing but a quick fix of pleasure.

He turns the lights off, shrouding you in a thick, blue hued abyss.

"Come here. Please?"

As you faced away from him, you could hear the pain in his voice. It pulled at your core, drawing yourself into him, and drowning in it. It was a familiar sound.

You turn around and stare at his, now downtrodden, pixelated expression. Your cheeks stained with trails of salt seemed to take his breath away. A breath he did not have, yet it cemented deep within his electric essence and stuck there, thrumming again and again.

How could he do this? Any chances he may have had with you now seemed to be floating away into the far beyond. Briefly, he wondered if you were even capable of loving something like him. Not a man, nor a machine, but something in between, incapable of ever showing just how much he felt for you. But he tried nearly every day. Had you noticed? Had you caught on to just how in love he was with you?

"I'm sorry if I upset you, Edgar."

Your voice trembled out, sending his inner components into an overdrive of heat and worry and energy.

"I'll tell you everything. Everything I can remember, at least."

You sighed, blinking the last of your tears away gently.

"It's okay if you don't want to-"

"No! No. I can... I want you to know. You deserve to know... what's going on. I need to tell you, because..."

"Because what?"

"I love you."

[wheeboo]

i miss you, don't call me | lee seokmin

SYNOPSIS. in which a particular boy has been clouding your mind lately, and you decide to drink away the thought of him𑁋when that isn't the right choice. PAIRING. ex!lee seokmin x gn!reader GENRE. angst, hurt/comfort... but also not really WARNINGS. drinking, swearing WORD COUNT. 2.5k

notes: kinda inspired from the song "i miss you, don't call me" by alessia cara. just wanna say i am forever guilty and full of shame for writing angst for this man. it feels completely out of character to write angst for him 😭😭

You hate the taste of alcohol.

You hate the way it lingers a bitter aftertaste on your lips, the way it burns like a smoldering ember down your throat that refuses to be extinguished, the way it wraps its tendrils around your senses and makes the world spin so merry around you.

You hate the taste of alcohol, yet there's a certain fascination in the way it blurs the edges of reality and a strange comfort in its familiarity. You were never usually one to drink in general, but tonight was different, and you find yourself caught between the resistance and the surrender, tip-toeing on the edge of clarity and a spellbound haze.

This is supposed to make you forget. Forget the deadlines, the expectations, the responsibilities, the miniscule hole in your chest that you have been trying to close. This is supposed to propel you in the right direction𑁋at least, that's what you convinced yourself in the hours before you wounded up in the middle of your living room with a half-empty glass in your hand. It's midnight, or something, you don't know for sure, and you couldn't be bothered to even check anyway.

This is supposed to help you forget him. He did nothing wrong, or anything wrong for the matter. His smile was always so bright like the sun, so full of life. He's like a bruise that refuses to fade, yet merely painful to the touch. You take another sip, and the amber liquid seems to carry with it the warmth of his laughter. And when you close your eyes just for a few seconds, you swear you can feel the warmth of that figurative sun on your face. Or maybe it's the alcohol. Or both.

It's been almost a year since you let him go. The reasons were complicated𑁋or simply, you both were just different𑁋and the echoes of that choice still reverberate in the quiet corners of your heart. You were convinced it was for the best for both of you, and all it took was two sentences for that line to be cut right on the same couch that you sat on.

And yet, the ache of his absence persists, leaving a void in your chest that you couldn't stitch up yourself.

Does he... still think about you from time to time?

It's a question you've asked yourself in the quiet moments before sleep. You wonder if he ever glances at the same moon that hangs in the night sky and thinks of the moments you shared under its wake.

You try to bury the thought away under the weight of another sip, but it resurfaces like an insistent tide as you let out a heated hiss to its taste. The room around you sways slightly, your head is starting to pound, and your thoughts are restless with nothing but just him.

The screen to your phone lights up on the coffee table, and you glance down at it, suddenly contemplating the idea of reaching out to him. Maybe it's the alcohol whispering in your ear, urging you to seek closure, or perhaps, rekindle a flame that was never truly extinguished.

The unanswered question lingers like a spectre in the room. Does he still think about you? The question gnaws angrily at your skin, and you find yourself reaching for the phone almost instinctively, as if drawn by a sudden invisible force.

With a deep breath, you unlock your phone. His contact is still there, his slightly blurry name staring right back at you like an open invitation. You tap a few times before landing on his number, and with a mixture of intoxication and courage, you press the call button.

The phone rings, each tone amplifying the drumming in your head. Your heartbeat quickens with each ring, the sound of it echoing in your ears. The haze in your mind seems to intensify, and you realise you might be crossing a line, but it's too late to turn back now.

The seconds tick away, and just as you begin to think about hanging up, he answers.

"Hello?"

His voice reaches through the phone and into your clouded consciousness. For a moment, you freeze, caught between the impulse to speak and the weight of the drunken-induced courage that made you make this call.

"Hey, Seokmin." Your voice comes out smaller and weaker than you anticipated.

A beat of silence follows your words. The weight of his name hangs in the air. You can almost sense Seokmin trying to process the unexpected call.

"Y/N?" His voice carries a mix of surprise and concern. "Is that really you?"

"Yeah," You reply, your words sounding less sure than you intended. "It's me."

There's another pause, and you can almost feel the distance between you two through the phone.

Then his voice comes through again, gentle and cautious, "Is everything okay?"

"Um..." You croak out, your thoughts stumbling over the words. "I just... I just needed to hear your voice."

Another pause. The only thing you could hear is the faint static on the other line.

"My voi𑁋Wait, are... are you drunk?"

A nervous laugh escapes your lips. "Uh, maybe a little," You admit embarrassingly.

Seokmin lets out a soft sigh on the other end of the line. You can't tell if it's from relief, concern, or disappointment, but the weight of it presses against your chest. It's almost suffocating.

"I just..." You start, the words hanging in the air. "is it bad to... to say that I miss you?"

The silence that follows is almost deafening. You can nearly imagine his face on the other end𑁋the ever expressive sunshine Lee Seokmin whom you spent nearly all of your college years with. A faint smile tugs at your lips at the thought of it, the thought of him. Sure, you've wondered how he has been from time to time, but tonight felt different. You can't tell if the alcohol is confusing missing with longing, or if it's amplifying a truth you've kept buried for too long.

"Y/N, you... We don't even live in the same city anymore." Seokmin's voice breaks the heavy silence. There's some suppression to his voice, like he's trying to hold something back, but you don't seem to notice. "Things have changed."

You bite your lip unconsciously, almost too hard you think it might bruise and bleed. The reality of it all settles in𑁋that you live hundreds of miles away from each other𑁋and a knot forms in your stomach. You take another sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol can provide some sort of shield for the vulnerability seeping through.

"I'm... I'm not asking to get back together, I..." Your voice trails off again, and you swallow a lump in your throat. "Things here have been awful, and I couldn't help... couldn't help but think of you, I guess."

Seokmin's side of the line remains quiet for a moment, absorbing the weight of your words. You can almost envision the wheels turning in his mind. There's a siren that wails outside your apartment for a few seconds, before fading away in the distance.

"You're drunk, Y/N," Seokmin states. "This isn't the best time to talk𑁋"

"I just wanted to know if you still thought about me too," You interrupt him, voice firm. The words are forcing themselves out at this point, and there's an urgency in your tone, almost as if the alcohol has taken control of your tongue.

Seokmin sighs audibly on the other end, and you can almost picture him running a hand through his hair.

"This... this isn't fair," he finally responds. "You can't just... call me in the middle of the night and tell me all this now."

His words sting, not because they're harsh, but because they're true.

"You were... you were always so cheery, you know?" You chuckle, words slurring slightly. "Even when I was drowning in stress, you had... th-this way of making everything feel lighter. And right now, I... I'm looking for a new job. Everything's been a fucking nightmare, and you... were the first person I thought of and..."

You stop your track in your words, gulping down an imaginary mass wedged down your throat. When your cast your eyes around your dark apartment, all you could see are the remnants of a life you used to share with him, and the mess you were left to clean up with.

You tighten your grip on your phone slightly. "Do you remember when, um... we used to stay up late, working on our assignments together? It... it feels like a lifetime ago."

There's a soft laughter you hear on the other end, and you think for a moment you might just have made him smile. You feel a little bit lighter at the thought.

"And... the pizza boxes that we turned into little tables because our dorm room couldn't fit all of our textbooks and a decent eating space?" You add on, finding yourself smiling to the visual. Just a tiny bit.

There's some shifting on the other side. He's remembering all of it too.

"We were a little messy back then, weren't we?" he chuckles fondly.

You bite your lip nervously again. "But... it was our mess, right?"

"Yeah," You hear him say, and there's a warmth in his voice. "Our mess that we somehow made work."

You take a sip of your drink again, even though you really shouldn't. But you can't help it. The alcohol seems to fuel your courage, or perhaps it's the shared nostalgia that wraps around your conversation like a comforting blanket. The messiness, the laughter, the late-night talks with his arms around you𑁋they were all part of a chapter that shaped both of you.

Your mind is hazy, but you press on, driven by a longing you can't quite articulate.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know why I called," You confess, voice trembling. "I just felt this emptiness, and I thought... I thought hearing your voice might fill it, even for just a second."

"It's okay," Seokmin is quick to reassure gently and soothingly. "You don't need to say sorry; it does... feel nice hearing you. But calling me in the middle of the night, when you're drunk... it's not the solution, okay?"

You nod, even though he can't see you. There's some heat that prickles at the corners of your eyes, but you blink them back, trying to contain yourself. You've already made an enough mess of yourself this entire night.

"I know it wasn't..." You clench and unclench your other hand, nails digging into your skin. "I just... needed someone to talk to, and you were that person for me."

"But... I'm not that person anymore," Seokmin clarifies, and his words seems to hit a nerve. "You have to be that person for yourself."

You inhale shakily, realising that you've been clinging to a version of him that exists only in memories. For a moment, you're suspended between the past and the present. The truth in his statement stings, but the pain is necessary. You've been using this idea of him, the memories you shared, to help ground you.

You wish you could reach through the phone and touch the past, rewrite the script, and undo the choices that led to this painful distance. But you already know you can't. It's too late.

Seokmin's right𑁋things have changed.

"Can you... just answer what I asked before?" You ask softly, carefully, tapping your fingers nervously against the glass in your hand. "If you... if you still thought about me."

There's a sound on the other end. You're not sure what it is𑁋a sigh, a chair shifting, or perhaps the subtle closing of his eyes. Whatever it is, it heightens the anticipation.

"Of course I... I do think about you," Seokmin admits, and that particular weakness to his voice paralyses you. Your heart catches in your throat. "I can never forget about what we had. But... we've both moved forward, Y/N. Life took us in different directions."

His words hit you like a cold breeze. It doesn't bring the comfort you expected; instead, it leaves you with a mix of emotions𑁋vulnerability, acceptance, and a tinge of sorrow.

"Maybe... in a different universe?" You hear the uncertainty in your own voice, a wistful hope that hangs in the heavy air around you.

You try to think you imagine a smile to his face when you say that, but the silence on the other end stretches out, and reality settles in again.

"Maybe," he concedes, and the word hangs there, suspended between what once was and what could have been. Just not in this one. "You deserve all the happiness in the world, Y/N. I need you to be happy, even if it's without me. Life keeps moving, and we have to move with it. You're one of the strongest people I know, okay? You can get through this. I believe in you. I always have, and I always will."

You deserve happiness too, Seokmin.

Despite the gloominess to your thoughts, every single one of his words echoes within your head. And it hurts, your head throbbing from the alcohol and emotions. The truth tastes like a bitter pill, and you swallow it down, the sting lingering in your chest.

"I miss you," You admit before you could think straight, slipping out like a confession in the dark, suddenly feeling all too exposed.

"I... I miss you too," Seokmin responds hesitantly, softly; you can hear the small, hint of a smile in his voice. You wonder if he's been smiling like the sun these days. "but... I don't want you to call me like this. Not when you're hurting and drunk. It's not healthy for either of us."

His words carry a gentle yet firm tone, a reminder of the boundaries that now exist between you. You can feel the reality of the situation settling in and the pages that turned since you both went your separate ways.

"I know," You murmur. "I just... needed to say it out loud."

For a minute, you both don't say anything. It's oddly comfortable, yet fragile with an unspoken sadness.

"Promise me you'll take care of yourself, okay?" Seokmin's voice breaks through the quiet. It's a request, a plea.

"I promise," You respond, the sincerity cutting through the haze. "And you take care too, Seokmin."

The conversation lingers for a moment, as if both of you are reluctant to sever the weak tie that binds you in this moment.

"Goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Seokmin."

When the call disconnects, you sit there for a while, phone in hand, the room now silent except for the distant sounds of the city outside.

You glance down at the almost-empty glass down in your hand, and in a swift movement, down the rest of the drink down your throat, feeling the familiar burn as it goes down. The room seems to sway a bit more than before, and you clutch your phone a bit more tighter as if it might steady you.

Then you shoot your eyes back down at your phone, seeing the way it turns on when you tap the screen, the sudden brightness of the screen stinging your eyes.

Impulsively, you navigate to your messages, and without thinking too much, you find Seokmin's contact and start typing.

[y/n] i love you, i'm sorry

With a deep breath, you hit send, and flip your phone over. Fuck, what did you just do? You're going insane.

Then your phone vibrates again, and you quickly grab it, heart racing.

But then your heart drops. It's not a message; it's a notification.

The number you have reached is no longer available.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @icyminghao @slytherinshua @jeonride @lockburn-castle @vrnism @weird-bookworm @mhlsymlysn @ryuwonieebae @yeonjuns-redhair @wonwooz1 @woohaeyo @mark-geolli @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts

[yuza-fantasies]

Afraid of You: Mezo Shoji

Pairing: Mezo Shoji x Shy GN Reader

Word Count: 1035

Summary: You have a crush on Shoji, but you're too scared to approach him.

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

Shoji had always harbored a deep-seated belief that his appearance would scare people away. From a young age, he experienced the uncomfortable stares and judgmental looks from others due to his facial features. In fact, he once unintentionally made a girl cry simply because of how his face looked. It was this incident that led him to adopt the habit of wearing a mask, a protective shield to conceal his perceived flaws.

You and Shoji had developed a strong bond as good friends, spending a significant amount of time together. When you finally mustered the courage to confide in your best friend, Ashido, about your secret affection for Shoji, she immediately became determined to bring you two together. Despite Ashido's enthusiasm and encouragement, you found yourself paralyzed with fear and unable to approach Shoji. Consequently, you resorted to avoiding him altogether.

"Why are you avoiding him?" Ashido inquired during one of your study sessions in her dorm room.

"I just can't bring myself to talk to him," you replied dejectedly. "Every time I try, the words fail me. It's easier to stay away."

"You need to tell him," Ashido exclaimed passionately, closing her textbook to focus on the matter at hand. She embarked on a heartfelt lecture about the importance of communication and the necessity of confessing your feelings to Shoji. However, your mind was consumed by the overwhelming fear of rejection that would surely accompany such a confession.

Unbeknownst to you, Shoji had begun to worry about your sudden avoidance. Although he outwardly displayed a calm demeanor, deep down, he feared that you had distanced yourself from him due to his dissimilar appearance. The truth was, he felt an affectionate fondness for you, and he had longed to express his feelings. But with you actively avoiding him, his attempts remained fruitless.

"Perhaps they have found out my feelings for them and this is their way of rejecting me," Shoji contemplated, his thoughts echoing through the silence of his room. "Or perhaps they're simply afraid of me." He gazed at the ceiling, deliberating whether he should reveal his true face to you and whether you would accept him as he truly was.

The following day, as you walked to class, Shoji mustered the courage to call out your name. However, you chose to ignore him, unable to confront the torrent of emotions that would flood over you if you were to face him directly. Yet, as you moved forward, a firm grip clasped your wrist, forcing you to acknowledge Shoji's presence.

"Y/N, why are you avoiding me?" he asked with genuine concern evident in his eyes. You attempted to respond, but anxiety silenced your voice, rendering you speechless.

"Is it because... of my appearance? Are you afraid of how I look?" Shoji inquired hesitantly, his voice laced with vulnerability. "If being around me makes you uncomfortable, then I will respect your decision and leave you alone."

"N-no, it's not like that," you stammered, gently pulling his hand away from your wrist. "I... I'm sorry, Shoji. Can we talk later, please?"

With those words, you turned and walked away, leaving Shoji standing there, his voice calling out to you, pleading for an explanation. The tears that had welled up in your eyes finally spilled over, your emotions too overwhelming to contain.

"I'm sorry, Shoji, but I simply cannot find the words to speak," you confessed silently. "It's not that I am afraid of you, but rather, I am afraid to open myself up to you."

After school, Shoji sent you a text message, expressing his desire to speak with you in person if you felt comfortable doing so. Uncertain about how to respond, you sought Ashido's guidance.

"What should I say, Mina?" you asked your pink-haired friend, seeking solace and advice. "I want to meet him, but I am consumed by fear."

"You have to talk to him," she insisted, her voice brimming with encouragement. "He wants to have a conversation with you, and this may be your chance. Go and talk to him!"

With a sigh, you mustered your courage and replied, agreeing to meet Shoji on the school roof in ten minutes. Determined to confront your fears, you embarked on a journey to the rooftop, where Shoji awaited your arrival. Step by step, you approached him, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Y/N, you haven't answered my question from before," Shoji said softly, his eyes searching for answers. "Are you afraid of me?"

Meeting his gaze, you sensed the genuine hurt in his eyes—the vulnerability he rarely displayed. This was the first time you had witnessed Shoji in such a state. His eyes spoke volumes, reflecting his concern and the emotions he had kept hidden for so long.

"It's okay if you're scared," Shoji continued, taking a deep breath. "But I want you to know something—I like you. More than just a friend. These past few days, I've been struggling to tell you, but you've been avoiding me. Please, tell me why. Why are you avoiding me?"

Stunned, you absorbed his words. All this time, your feelings had been reciprocated? As you peered into Shoji's eyes, you gathered the strength to respond, "Shoji, I'm not afraid of you. I'm terrified to speak because... because I like you too, Shoji! More than just a friend."

"Y-Y/N, you can talk to me anytime," Shoji reassured, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm sorry if I made you feel this way, but will you be my significant other?"

"Of course, Shoji!" you replied, unable to contain your joy. You embraced him tightly, feeling the warmth of his tentacles enveloping you.

"There's one more thing I need you to know," Shoji murmured, his voice tinged with vulnerability. Slowly, he lowered his mask, unveiling his true face to you. "I have worn this mask for a long time, fearing that my appearance might cause someone sadness. It's alright if you change your mind after seeing me like this."

"Shoji, I could never judge you based on your appearance," you responded, tears of gratitude welling in your eyes. "Thank you for showing me what lies beneath the mask. I love you, Shoji."

"I love you too, Y/N."

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

Repost from my wattpad.

[arafilez]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ▰ ▰ ✶ WØRLD EPISØDE FIN: WILL ⪨

ㅤㅤ➛ ㅤviii.ㅤ EVERYTHING 𒉽 choi jongho❛ 𓇿

🥂̸̤ㅤㅤfluff forced proximity pg13ㅤ ✸ㅤthe last person you wanted to complete the mission with is jongho, well too bad he is the only optionㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ w: fighting . one-bed trope ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ wc: 3kㅤㅤ𠈔ㅤㅤ moodboard

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❛ you're an asshole but i love you ❜

“Everything that comes out of your mouth is stupid.”

“Choi Jongho”

“Shut up.”

You both stop abruptly at the third voice and turn towards the captain but not without giving each other one last glare. Hongjoong takes a deep breath and looks at you two shaking his head wondering what he had ever done in his past life to get such a chaotic group of spies. Because they surely can’t act like one.

“Okay now that I have your attention span of five seconds, you two are doing this mission together,” Hongjoong speaks and doesn’t bother to look up already knowing what is coming.

“I am not going with him.”

“Again?”

You both shout at the same time earning an eye-roll from Hongjoong who merely states, “Yes, and you don’t get a choice.” Your mouth hangs open at his words and you try to protest only for Hongjoong to silence you and say, “Because you two are our best undercovers.”

“Well, I am, of course, but her?” Jongho asks, mocking evident in his voice and you snicker at the immature man beside you. Being the two youngest in the team you two didn’t leave one day where you wouldn’t bite each other’s head off.

“Of course, because you are the one who brought home the information in our last mission,” you say, plastering a sickly sweet smile on your face.

“Talk with respect, I was born first,” he bites back and you roll your eyes at the lame comeback before saying, “Don’t you mean hatched?”

“Dismissed,” Hongjoong says interrupting you two and giving a stern look that makes both of you shut up and accept it and leave. Walking outside you close Hongjoong’s door behind you and feel Jongho tapping your shoulder.

“What?” you give him a look which quickly turns into confusion as you see him shushing you and pointing towards the lab door where you see Wooyoung’s sister clinging onto Yunho.

You shrug lightly whispering, “Well Wooyoung oppa is going to be fucking over the moon,” and Jongho giggles at your response knowing his hyung in fact will be.

You look towards Jongho who has a gummy smile etched on his face and for a moment you let your mind tell you he looks cute in that smile with his crinkled eyes that look like a crescent moon.

“Too bad you don’t have a brother, let alone his best friend,” Jongho remarks and the record screeches and comes to a halt. You smile at him before showing your middle finger to his face and he sticks out his tongue making you scoff.

“It’s almost two, do you want to plan tomorrow or now?” Jongho asks suddenly and you contemplate a bit balancing out your odds and he takes the cue to continue, “What are you thinking so much, you don’t have anyone to go back to your room, unlike San hyung.”

You attempt to kick him, swinging your leg in the hair and he giggles running towards his room and you follow muttering curses under your breath at the little spawn of the devil.

The relationship you and Jongho had was interesting. You two were the undercovers of Ateez and being a team you two complement each other well, bringing information as well as eliminating bodies left and right.

But, there’s always a but, you two couldn’t stand each other. You found him obnoxious and annoying and he found you too hasty. At least that was the basic reason. There were a thousand other reasons which justify why you would kill him on a good day. One of them, was his big mouth that was never shut, annoying you whenever he could.

“What is your plan? Where do we start?” your thoughts come to a halt as Jongho’s voice infiltrates your ear and you look at him in the eyes that hold a boring expression.

You shake your head lightly and sit down on his bed, which you will never admit is very comfortable, and say, “We can just simply keep a watch on them and act accordingly.”

“We will not be in any disguise genius, what if we get caught?” he throws his shoes off his legs to the corner of the room and sits down beside you and you narrow your eyes at him.

“We will improvise like we have always done till now,” you shrug lightly. Honestly, this mission wasn’t a lot. Even though it has crucial information standing on the line you and Jongho have been on much harder missions and have been alive.

Even though you might have tried to kill each other while at it.

“Fine just don’t do stupid shit when we almost get caught, like that time you suggested beer pong,” Jongho grits out, eyes flaming with anger as he remembers how you had almost slept with an official if he hadn’t saved you.

“That was all part of the plan,” you dismiss him airily and he rolls his eyes muttering “Sure” which made you feel embarrassed as hell because it sure wasn’t part of any plan. Heck, you already have two people in your team for that job.

He yawns stretching out his limbs and you look at him and watch his muscles flex under the t-shirt he is wearing accentuating his arm muscles and you watch him intently.

“Good muscles, no?” Jongho smirks looking at you ogling and your eyes widen at getting caught and you cough looking away and say, “Yeah whatever, those are just for show.”

You even fake a scoff to hide the warmth radiating from your cheeks and he raises an eyebrow.

“They can show you a lot of things baby,” he purrs, his body slightly leaning towards you and you stare back at his eyes with equal intensity. You are pretty sure your cheeks are red by now, and you can feel his breath too close to you, and you might be hallucinating but you see his eyes travel to your lips for a split second.

Coughing lightly, you abruptly get up before you do something you regret and walk towards the door. Jongho also sits up looking away and you say a small “See you tomorrow,” and leave.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” you exclaim, a frustrated groan leaving with me as you eye the room you are to stay for the night. It is definitely a sorry excuse for a homestay, heck you have stayed in worse places but that isn’t the problem.

The problem is sharing the room with Jongho.

A room which has one bed.

No couch.

No mattress.

Not even two blankets in what they are calling a “double bed.” Double? It is more like a single and a half. Not even half, quarter.

“No thanks, I have better things to do,” Jongho’s monotonous reply brings you out of your trance and you glare at him throwing your backpack on the small table at the side.

The table creaks making you cringe and you slowly pick up your bag and keep it beside the leg of the bed. You are not paying for a broken table. They cannot even make more rooms, of course, they can’t afford a decent table.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” you deadpan and Jongho laughs sarcastically saying, “How about you say that to your phone’s selfie camera?”

“Selfie camera? Really?” you fold your arms cocking your eyebrow at him and he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah well there’s no mirror.” You scoff at his attitude and continue, “You cannot make a lady sleep on the floor.”

“Where’s the lady? I can’t see her,” he retaliates with a smirk adorning his face. You take in a deep break and shooting him a quick glare you plop down on the bed.

Jongho puts his bag down beside yours and glances around. His heart panics a little at the single bed but he quickly looks away. It is three days, he can do this.

You think it is for three days, you can go without killing each other, maintain a safe distance, and return safely to the base. You can do this.

You absolutely cannot do this.

Jongho has been shuffling for the last fifteen minutes and he doesn’t stop. His tossing and turning make you annoyed and you hiss in anger and turn towards him and yell, “Jongho just sleep for fuck’s sake.”

He turns towards you and whispers, “I am trying.”

“Well, try harder, and stop moving,” you finally shoot your eyes open and look at him. The proximity makes you falter quickly and you can see your noses almost touching, his eyes scanning your whole face.

Your eyes rake his face, over every mole, cute lump and his nose-bridge and then fall to his lips. You quickly look up at him and he opens his mouth and you brace yourself for the worst teasing of your life.

“You have really nice eyes,” your eyes widen in shock and your lips part but no words come out as you continue to stare into his soft, brown eyes. After a moment you collect yourself barely and say, “Go to sleep Choi.”

Why is this hotel room so goddamn cold?

“Okay,” he whispers back, his breath fanning your face your mouth a ‘good’ because you didn’t trust your voice and turn your back to him, trying to calm your heart.

Jongho eyes rest on your back trying to even his breath until his eyes close.

You wake up in the middle of the night, or rather your bladder urges you to try to move. Except you can’t when you see Jongho’s hand draped over your waist, holding you close. His soft breath dances on your neck and you stay awake for some time enjoying the warmth of his body that feels so strangely comfortable and you hate to admit it.

Okay no you really need to pee.

You wiggle out of his arms slowly, not intending to wake him up and he groans making you go still. “Why do I care?” you think to yourself but put extra care into placing his arms down and getting up.

Coming back you jump lightly as Jongho’s annoyed eyes match yours and he says, “Come back here.”

“Why?” your cheeks tinge a shade of red and you are glad the room is dark or else you would have never lived it down. You take a sip of water from the bottle, trying to shove the feeling down your burning throat but you can’t.

Jongho keeps watching your ministrations, getting impatient with each passing second. Why can’t you just come back goddammit? He speaks up before he can stop himself and says, “You are the only source of warmth in this stupid hotel, so come back before I get hypothermia.”

You smirk lightly at his bear-like features getting all riled up and shrug your shoulders nonchalantly making him huff and turn sideways away from you. You cannot believe Jongho being this needy.

Jongho never loses his composure. Except when he is with you, you make him do crazy things.

You giggle lightly at the pouting baby bear before you walk towards him and get inside the duvet and his eye shots up as you lie down. He instantly wraps his arm around you and you murmur to him, “I am only doing this because you are cold and you will get hypothermia or whatever, don’t take it otherwise.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” his sleepy voice reverberates in the room as he holds you tightly making your insides warm up. He is just cold, don’t overthink, you scold your mind before lulling back to sleep.

The next morning becomes unusually quiet, unlike your usual bickering. Both of you check your logs sent by Yunho and work on your tactical gears and weapons. Neither of you brings up last night’s incident, an unspoken agreement forming.

At the said time, you both leave the motel and arrive at the back door of the pub. You say the code and they let you two in and you search for your perp.

“There she is,” Jongho whispers and you quickly look over to his direction and spot her immediately. “You talk with officials, I will go talk with her,” you say and he nods before you part ways. You strut your way towards her and sit beside her at the bar, passing her a glance.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you look at Jongho who has a resolute look on his face as he sits down to play poker with the officials. You smile lightly at his undercover suit that makes him look like a businessman.

Jongho knows the official has a gun ready below the table and he sends a signal to Mingi who gets ready in his position at the back. Jongho smiles lightly and continues the game like nothing happened until he is on the last card and pulls out an Ateez card from his pocket turning it swiftly to the officers.

You knock over your drink on purpose, and Mingi walks towards Jongho. “You’re dead, darling,” you whisper as soon as you see Jongho firing the bullets and you smirk lightly holding her down and she fights back. “Oh shit,” you whisper when she jabs you on your forehead before you hold her down in a choking position.

With her free hand, she punches you on the lips and you feel offended. She did not just ruin your pretty lips, and you scoffed in annoyance before grabbing the spray from your waist and using it on her.

“Bitch, you could have hit any other place but these pretty lips?” you say before throwing her figure down for an amused Mingi to watch you.

The perp falls limp on the ground and you gesture at Mingi who gladly takes her back to the headquarters. You look around in confusion and Mingi shrugs as you see Jongho still shooting. You roll your eyes pulling him by the elbow and whisper, “Tell me you got the papers.”

“Let’s make a grand exit,” he grins cheekily and you look at him quizzically and pull him by the arm saying, “That doesn’t answer my question.”

He gives you a deaf ear shooting the fire extinguishing sprinklers as the water starts pouring. “What the actual-“ You don’t finish your sentence running out and looking at him in disbelief as he walks through the water like it is some sort of runway.

When he finally comes out after his “dramatic exit” you say, “I will be handling your CV to modelling agencies when we get back, just wait and see.”

He laughs and you scoff and stomp away as he follows you, the papers safely with Mingi sent back.

Back at the motel, he forcefully makes you sit down on the bed as he brings the first-aid kit out. You eye his ministrations and snicker when he accidentally pours some antiseptic on his fingers instead of the cotton.

“You should have told me you are hurt,” he says, lightly dabbing at the wound on your forehead first.

“Oh and stop your modelling, how on earth can I do that?” you fake a gasp and Jongho forcefully jabs your forehead and you slap his hand.

Jongho lightly flicks your forehead, his gummy smile etching his lips as he steps closer. He holds your jaw softly, turning your head up and your eyes follow his hands that busied themselves on cleaning the cut.

“Geez I am fine you big baby, I have got way bigger cuts than one on a forehead and a split lip,” you complain while Jongho carefully presses a piece of cotton between your lips. Your words get muffled and he smiles in a sinister way and says, “You are so much better when you don’t talk.”

You stick your middle finger at his face and he edges closer to you, looking down at you raises your eyebrows as you gaze back. “There are a lot more ways where I can make you quiet,” he smirks and continues, “Or make you scream louder.”

Your face flushes with warmth and reaches the tip of your ears at his words and your eyes widen. You look at your sides and see Jongho’s arms flexing as he holds the bed headboard. Fuck him and his apple-breaking arms, you think.

Fuck everything.

“Yeah?” you ask softly taking out the cotton from your lips and continuing, “Why don’t you show me the ways?”

Jongho raises his eyebrow dipping his head more and the closeness almost makes your noses touch and he asks, “You would like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe I will,” you speak, a mischievous smile tugging on your lips and before can count to another second Jongho’s lips press to yours in a desperate kiss. You stumble lightly from the pressure and hold his shoulders tilting your head. Your lips move in perfect sync and the kiss turns from rough and desperate to soft and sensual in seconds. His grip softens and he holds your hands while you caress his hair lightly. You feel him smile in the kiss and return it as you two part.

You love this about Jongho so much.

He smiles and you bite your lips feeling shy as he pecks your lips saying, “You were right, I am stupid.” You groan at him shaking your head and trying to cover his mouth but he continues, “Stupidly in love with you.”

“Oh my god, that is so cheesy,” you groan at him and he laughs before tackling you to the bed and kissing you all over the face while you giggle.

✸ㅤ ara's notesㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ that is it, the end of my series, tbf i had fun writing this one a lot ㅤㅤ»ㅤ series mlistㅤ ateez mlist ㅤ main mlist ㅤ naviㅤㅤ𠈔

✸ㅤ taglistㅤㅤ───ㅤㅤ @haneagerr @tunaasan @evidive @huachengsbestie01 @philijack @atiny-lizbeth @chxnnii @nakiiko @therealcuppicake @weird-bookworm ㅤㅤ»ㅤㅤ if you liked the series you can join my taglistㅤㅤ𠈔

© arafilez on tumblr. please don't copy and repost my work as your own ▰▰ ✶

[bring-backup-99]

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

*

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

*

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more:

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky

[stargirlinterludefr]

GOOD LUCK, BABE!: sarah cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: you and sarah are were best friends, she said she wanted to experiment and while she’s everything to you, you’re just an experiment to her. Maybe she was in denial but she realises too late that whatever the two of you had wasn’t ‘nothing’ and she’s forced to stand face to face with i told you so.

TW: hints of homophobia, internalised homophobia, discussion of comphet, drug usage, alcohol consumption, angst, topper, ward actually being a good dad for once, use of y/n, jj being brutally honest

NOTES: sarah is a lesbian in this fic but she struggles heavily with comphet (compulsory heterosexuality) and similar to the song, gets with a man because she can’t accept her sexuality. I have been in the readers situation so writing from experience I suppose.

word count: around 3,010

Driving at sunset in the outer banks is a serene experience, the way the colours dance across the sky and eventually blend into the horizon when you look out upon the sea.

Driving at sunset in the outer banks had always been one of yours and your best friend Sarah’s favourite things to do together, the way you’d drive and she’d stand up through the sun roof of the car, arms our like some kind of angel.

How could you not fall for her?

You were fine with your one sided feelings, truly you were, Sarah was your best friend and you’d already had the conversation about how you didn’t feel anything for her when you eventually came out to her. A big lie, of course, but you just didn’t want to lose her.

So, driving at sunset in the outer banks with the girl you love silently may be foolish to others but it’s a serene kind of peace you’d never want to exchange.

Driving on the same route as usual, you wait for Sarah’s usual routine of pressing on some random Taylor Swift song and standing through the sunroof of her car, but she remains sat in the passenger seat with a mindful expression etched onto her features.

“You okay, Sare?” You ask, taking your eyes off of the desolate road for a moment to glance at her as she hums in response.

“Me? Yeah, ‘course.” She mumbles and you know it’s not true which is why at the next turning that leads to an open space to park, you pull the car over so you can give her your full attention.

“Okay, fess up, you’ve been staring out of the window like you’re contemplating throwing yourself out of the car ever since we got into it.” You say, a slight tease to your tone to help lift her spirits but she simply offers a small smile.

“I want to ask you something…and I-I want you to keep an open mind, okay?” She says after a moments silence and you’re quick to nod, studying the side of her face intently as you wait for whatever thoughts have been bothering her.

“So, you know how you’re gay?” The words have you choking on a breath, eyes widening as you let out a laugh but by the serious look on her face you quickly simmer down.

“Uh yeah, that is uh what I am, big lover of women…why?” You say awkwardly, rubbing the back of your neck as Sarah fully turns to look at you now.

“I’ve been thinking that…I might want to like, you know, experiment…” she mumbles and you have to hold your breath to prevent you from choking on it again, “With uh girls…and since your my best friend and the only openly lesbian person I know I thought that maybe I’d…ask you.”

You both stare at eachother for a second, your mind is scrambling and reeling for a response as Sarah’s face becomes increasingly more red.

“I-it’s stupid I know but-“ She starts but you quickly cut her off.

“No, it’s not stupid I uh…I’d be- I mean sure, I’m happy you trust me enough to come to me about this.” You say, clearing your throat as you finish, you know deep down that this is only going to end in tears but if this is the one chance you get to love her without hiding it as much, you don’t want to give it up.

Sarah smiles as she nods in relief, “Yeah? I mean, it obviously won’t mean anything like feelings wise because we’re best friends it’s just like…friends with benefits?” She says and you hate the way your stomach drops slightly but you hide it from her, smiling as you nod.

“Yeah…sure.”

-

One month into yours and Sarah’s ‘nothing’ situation has you realising it isn’t really nothing. Sarah likes to say the two of you are nothing, pointing out she’s merely trying out new things and in turn your getting a good lay.

But the two of you clearly aren’t ‘nothing’ and that becomes increasingly obvious when one of the only people in the world you thought wouldn’t notice the underlying tension, did.

You know Sarah’s brother isn’t blind, he’s always been surprisingly observant and ever since he’d discovered you weren’t interested in men he’d ‘joked’ that you and Sarah would probably end up hooking up eventually.

You now also realise that he wasn’t exactly joking.

“You should call it off, y’know.” A voice sounds from behind where you’re sat on the deck chairs surrounding the large pool at Tannyhill, Sarah having gone inside to make the two of you drinks.

As you turn to see the source of the voice, you’re met with the sight of Rafe’s looming figure. Sunglasses are sat on his face so you can’t see his eyes as he looks at you but when you glance behind him briefly, you can see Sarah conversing with Topper in the kitchen.

“And you’re talking about…?” You trail off, quirking a brow at him as he snorts out a laugh and rounds your deck chair to sit on the one beside you.

“I think you know what I’m talking about, princess.” He states, lying back on his chair nonchalantly as you continue to look at him.

You swallow, you weren’t exactly afraid you and Sarah had been found out but you didn’t want to out her when she didn’t even properly know what her sexuality was yet.

Rafe continues when you remain silent, “I’m just sayin’ kid, I may be her brother but Sarah’s gonna fucking break your heart, she’s never been one to face her feelings.”

You immediately feel defensive, maybe it’s because you love her or maybe it’s because you yourself are in denial. “And you are?”

He lets out a chuckle at that, turning his head to look at you through his sunglasses “Never said I was.” Rafe states before adding, “That’s also how I know whatever it is y’all have going on, it’s gonna end badly, because like me…Sarah can’t face her feelings and she sure as shit is not gonna admit the fact that you love her.”

You don’t even have time to process his words because Sarah and Topper come walking back toward the pool, you turn back to your previous position as Rafe stares at you for a moment before he turns his head back toward the pool.

Sarah and Topper are laughing as she places your drinks on the near by table and an ugly feeling of jealousy coils in your gut as you watch the two of them, the way he stares down at her and the way she bats her eyelashes up at him.

You barely register Rafe’s mutter beside you, “So fucked.”

-

Sarah is kissing you sloppily, her legs wrapped around your waist as you hold her hips, everyone once in a while she lets out soft moans into the kiss before eventually she pulls away to check her phone that buzzes beside you.

You hate when she does that. You hate when she breaks away from you as though nothing at all is happening.

As her eyes flit over the screen you watch as she looks up at you before back down to her phone with a guilty expression,

“Topper?” You hum and she nods, climbing off of your lap and you follow her in standing up. Music is still blaring from downstairs and you feel dizzy from the way Sarah was just kissing you and the alcohol in your system.

“I’ll come find you later, yeah?” She mumbles, eyes not meeting yours before she’s gone out of the room before you can even blink.

She always does that, avoiding your gaze after the two of you had done something that branched away from ‘just friends’ because she couldn’t dare to face up to you and her own emotions.

You sigh, rolling your shoulders as you leave the room shortly after, slowly pushing past sweaty bodies and couples making out as you stumble down the stairs.

As you reach the bottom you come to a slow halt when your eyes latch onto something that makes your head spin.

Sarah kissing Topper. Topper kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper. Topper’s kissing Sarah. Sarah’s kissing Topper? Topper’s kissing Sarah?

You feel sick, your heart beats violently in your ears and you can’t force your eyes away. You can’t do anything but stand and stare.

After a moment, Sarah’s eyes open while she and the dreaded boy continue to make out, said eyes dance over to where your stood and you think for a moment she looks guilty but before you can decipher the look…her full attention is back on Topper and you’re left looking like an absolute fool.

-

Sarah finds you around an hour later, stumbling over to where you are sat beside JJ, the two of you sharing a joint.

The Cameron girl smiles widely when she spots you, all but throwing herself to sit on your lap and your jaw ticks in annoyance which you know JJ notices immediately.

“Heyyy, I missed you.” She slurs, hands coming to tangle in your hair as she places a drunken kiss to your lips and then drags them down your neck as JJ clears his throat awkwardly.

“I’ll uh…catch you later.” He says, coming to stand and you nod your head in thanks, not missing the way his eyes all but scream that you have some serious explaining to do.

“Sarah…” You mutter, attempting to lightly draw the girl away from your neck but she doesn’t seem to budge so you pull her away with a slight bit more force and she looks at you with a pout that makes your heart stutter warmly in your chest.

“I think it’s time for-“ You begin but Sarah cuts you off.

“I’m sorry, about Top, I just…you give me all these crazy feelings and I needed them to stop.” She slurs drunkenly, hands coming to cup and squish your cheeks together. “It’s just the way I am, you’re my best friend and Topper’s like soooo sweet.”

Your heart feels like it’s about to plummet, you feel so humiliated but you know she’s drunk and you hope that she maybe remembers what she’s said in the morning but you know that won’t happen.

You gently remove her hands from your cheeks before you awkwardly pat them, “Well uh good luck with that.” You say, already knowing that whatever she was trying to do by kissing Topper was never going to work.

You knew first hand, you’d have to stop the world just to stop these feelings and that would never happen.

-

JJ Maybank was probably one of the only men on the planet you trusted whole heartedly, the boy was your best friend and you loved him like a brother.

Which is why you felt like an asshole for the way he’s looking at you right now.

“You’re tellin’ me kook prince, Rafe Cameron, knew about whatever little sexy mackin’ thing you got going on with Sarah Cameron before I did?” He says, eyebrows raised as his hands wave wildly around “Me? Your best friend, the guy who taught you how to give good head to a gir-“

“Okay! I get it, I’m sorry!” You say loudly, interrupting the route he was going, you know he’s not truly hurt that you didn’t tell him because it’s JJ.

“But seriously bro, what’re you gonna do? Because, not to ever say I agree with Cameron but, she’s totally gonna break your heart.” He rambles, taking a sip from his beer bottle as he comes to sit across from you on the dock the two of you are currently situated at, the dock at the Chateau.

“I don’t know…if it means I don’t have to lose her then maybe I’ll just keep doing it?” You say, shrugging as you watch JJ quirk a brow at you.

“First of all, that’s cliché as fuck, second of all this whole situation is not fair on you at all.” He states, gently nudging your foot with his own. “She’s usin’ you as like some sorta’ experiment and I get it’s hard to come to terms with who you are, I saw it first hand with you, but this shit ain’t fair bro…and it ain’t love.”

You don’t say anything to that, simply nodding as you swallow harshly, turning to look out at the small rippling waves of the water.

-

Sarah is sat on the sofa in the large living room of Tannyhill, eyes boring into the ceiling as she pays no mind to the show playing in the background on the tv.

The sound of her father walking in makes her turn her head and give him a small smile as he comes to sit across from her, ending the call he was on as he looks at her.

“You okay, sweetie?” Ward asks, eyes trained intently on Sarah who nibbles softly at her bottom lip.

“I- uh…yeah- I mean…I don’t know-“ She starts and before she can even get another word out, Ward is sat beside her and pulling his daughter into his arms before the tears fall down her cheeks.

“It’s okay, honey, it’s all gonna be okay.”

All Sarah can do is nod because she doesn’t believe that true, nothings okay with the fact that she could possibly lose you because she can’t understand why she’s feeling these things for you and she feels like her only option is to bail, because while she knows deep down you love her in a way that she’ll never understand…she also knows she’ll fuck it up.

-

Driving through the outer banks at sunset was yours and Sarah’s favourite thing to do together but now, with everything the two of you have been doing, you don’t think you can do these drives without the blinding feeling that nostalgia and Sarah give you.

You pull over similar to the time you did when Sarah brought her idea forward but on this occasion, you’re the one who can’t look at her.

“I’m gonna say something and…I just, need you to listen because…I can only gather so much strength to say it.” You croak out, not daring to look at her because you know she’s already crying and you can’t bear the fact that you could be inflicting pain on the girl you love.

“I love you Sarah…and I tried not to, I really did-“ You choke out, squeezing your eyes closed for a second before reopening them and continuing, “I think I’ve always loved you, before we even became what we are now, but this isn’t what love should be.”

You turn to her then, Sarah’s lips trembling as tears stream down her face and you fight the urge to lean over and take her into your arms.

If you did that, you’d never be able to end this.

“I know you’re confused but…I think you know, deep down, that whatever you feel toward me is real and you’re scared to acknowledge that.” You point out and Sarah lets out a shaky breath at your words.

“You’re my best friend, of course I feel things toward you-“ She attempts to say and you shake your head as you cut her off.

“We’re not just friends, Sarah.” You note, running a hand over your face as the girl beside you crosses her arms over her chest.

“I’m not gay.” She says, her tone so unsure yet so confident that you almost feel guilty for some unknown reason. Guilty for what, exactly? You don’t know, maybe for ending whatever it is you had going on alongside your friendship.

“Come on Sarah-“ You try and she immediately shuts you down, eyes now more angry then they are sad which makes you feel like you physically recoil at the change.

“No, y/n! You’re not making me into something I’m not, just because you’re gay doesn’t mean I have to be too!” She snaps, her words slicing through you violently as you feel a pit of shame curl up in your stomach “I experimented and now I know for sure now I’m not…whatever it is I thought I was.”

You know she’s building up to something so you close your eyes in anticipation for the blow she’s undoubtedly about to deliver.

“Besides, I’m with Topper now so...” You exhale as she says the words, as though she’d physically hit you in the stomach and winded you before you let out a light scoff.

You look to her, her eyes wide and defensive. You simply shake your head before opening the car door, “Topper,” You begin, letting out another scoff before you begin to step out of the car, “Good luck, babe.”

-

Four months after yours and Sarah’s conversation and while you haven’t heard from her, you have heard from Rafe. The Cameron man informing you that Topper and Sarah are having a very…turbulent relationship.

Rafe knows you were the one to end things with his sister, he and JJ being the only ones to actively know that something was going on between you and Sarah. With the exception of Ward who was left to guess what was plaguing his daughter’s thoughts over the last few months.

You feel a form of sympathy as the way everyone only refers to Sarah as ‘Toppers girl’ now. You know you shouldn’t be surprised at it, she never leaves his side and you realised it was her way of trying to prove to herself and to you that whatever feelings she had weren’t romantic.

You knew better and deep down so did she.

As you sit with your friends on the HMS Pogue, sailing across the water you catch sight of Topper’s boat when JJ starts geeking out over the model and price of it.

You also notice Sarah beside him, her face screaming out how unhappy she is without her even needing to say it.

And when your eyes meet hers, you see the unhappiness in her gaze. The facade she puts up and parades around under only extends to so many people and you are not one of them, you know Sarah so deeply and you also know that whatever she’s attempting to prove with Topper isn’t working for her.

And as your two boats come in line with one another, slowly passing, you mime toward the Cameron girl…words you hate to say but you do anyway,

“I told you so.”

[haveihitanerve]

Stephanie had said it as a joke. It was meant to be a joke. “Do you know who I love?” Bruce asked. “Me!” Steph offered sweetly, grinning at him. “Yes,” Bruce responded without missing a beat, returning to his point. “And I love-“ Steph didn’t hear the rest, couldn’t hear it over the roaring in her ears, the pounding of her heart. The second she was dismissed she fled. Bruce followed her a few minutes later. “I’m sorry.” He blurted, the second he landed. “Why?” Steph sobbed. He seemed uncertain. “Because it’s not my place and I’m not really your father and-“ “not why are you sorry,” Steph interrupted, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “Why do you love me?” Bruce blinked in shock. “Why?” He repeated dumbly. Steph nodded. “Why.” Bruce swallowed, cocking his head as he contemplated the question. “Why?” He cleared his throat, taking a seat. “Well, because I think you are perfect.” Steph blinked in surprise. That was not what she had been expecting. “To me, you are… quite simply put, amazing. You have gone through so much, had every reason to hurt people for what happened to you, and yet you turned it into your reason, your cause for fighting.” Bruce looked at her, and his blue eyes shone so earnestly Steph couldn’t look away. “You are funny and kind and so full of this spark of life and it… it makes me better. You are right, good people shouldn’t fear us, and hope is a crucial part of our job. You are… brilliant and smart and… so hopeful for what the world can be, for what people can be. And I admire you for it. I love you, because of it.” Steph stared at him for a while, silent in her own thoughts, digesting all the compliments he had thrown her, then she laughed. Bruce looked startled. “I’m sorry- but you love me because I’m like you?!?” She wheezed. Bruce looked at her, uncomprehending. “Everything- everything you just said- is what I think of you. You inspired me to be Spoiler. Your core values, what you just described, is what created Spoiler!” She gasped with the strength of her laughter, then stilled as Bruce still looked lost. “Oh my gosh,” she whispered. “You don’t see it.” Bruce shook his head. “I am… I’m not you Stephanie. You are so much better than me. You are good and I am-“ “oh please!” Steph snapped. “Stop with that bullshit! Do you know how many of my friends feel safe walking home alone at night because they know you’re patrolling?” She scoffed. “You might not be perfect Bruce, but you are pretty fucking awesome.” At that, Bruce smiled. “Well, seeing as I am pretty fucking awesome, then that must mean you are, because you’re like me.” Steph laughed, and finally, finally, the tension eased from her body. He loved her. He really did. And because he thought she was perfect. Because he believed her to be like him, but better. “I guess we get to be pretty fucking awesome together then huh?” She asked, sending him a grin. Bruce stood, a grin splitting his face as well, and sling an arm around her shoulders in a hug. “I guess so Robin.” He murmured, and Steph let the word slither over her, let it deep into her skin like sunlight, pour into her very soul and settle, her name. Her title. Finally, it felt like it really belonged to her, and wasn’t just some job she was place holding until Tim returned. Stephanie leaned her head against his chest, let her fingers dig into his shirt. “I guess so Batman.” She whispered, and smiled. 

[makuta-tobi]

Nat stared at her computer screen, cursor blinking in tandem with her heartbeat, so loud in her ears she may as well have been at a metal concert. Months she had worked on her project, skipping meals, staying awake until sunrise, and then a few hours more after that. Now she was a few keystrokes away from finally testing it. Cables ran from her ramshackle computer, meeting and mingling with others attached to a bank of hard drives, all spinning with uploads and downloads. On the inflatable mattress behind her, the fruits of her labour lay eerily still. With a deep, shaky exhale, she typed in the last few lines of code into her launcher, and pressed the enter key.

The whirring of the fans pointed towards the makeshift server seemed to drown out all other noise as the program executed. Then a series of smaller fans, a sharper sound than the box fan nearby, as they all sprang to life at once. Nat pressed her palms together as her creation came online. As servos activated and limbs went from rigid to an almost relaxed state, she couldn't help but whisper “it lives” to herself. The machine in front of her made a sudden jolt, and a light on the side of its head illuminated a pale white. Online and active. She twisted from her position on the floor to check her monitors and saw that all systems were operating nominally. Neural pathways were registering stimuli, artificial synapses were firing as thoughts began to form. It worked!

Nat placed her hand on the machine's upper back and guided it to a sitting position. She had been sure to feed the computer a good handful of data about herself, and the basics of knowledge in order to train the AI and make sure it didn't immediately shut down from overstimulation.

God knows I certainly would have, she thought to herself with an eyeroll.

“Are you awake?” her first question was more of a way to test the robot's speech recognition, its self evaluation, word association, and also to ensure that the vocal modulation was up to satisfactory conditions.

“I am awake,” it responded. The robot drew its arms closer to its torso and seemed to look around the room briefly, before turning its head to face Nat.

“Do you know who I am?” she asked, once again checking its recognition and perception.

“Natalie, you created and programmed me, I believe,” it tilted its head almost as though trying to determine if this was the correct answer. The data she had fed it before it woke up had included details about herself, photos and videos of her, vocal samples, and the AI was interpreting this information and comparing it to the details in front of it. The face, the voice, it all matched. But the robot seemed almost unsure, as if contemplating whether the information it had was incomplete. Perhaps it had been told that this person, whose face and voice it knew, was the one who built it, but that did not necessarily mean the information it had was true. Nonetheless, Nat smiled and nodded, and the robot's shoulders almost imperceptibly relaxed.

“That's right. I did create you, and I programmed you to be something new, but familiar. You have a lot of potential, and I'm glad to meet you.” The robot tilted its head at the framing of the statement.

“What potential do I have?” it asked. A curious mind, or simply a rudimentary AI probing for information to expand its knowledge set?

“You have multiple functions as yet unseen. All of you, from the smallest details of your body, to your quizzical mind, all are new ways to expand the experience of everyone.” When the robot did not respond right away, and simply looked down at its form, still sitting upright on the air mattress, she continued her explanation. “Your frame is designed with limb augments and prosthesis in mind,” she gestured to the carbon fiber metal that made up its hands and arms. “Your sensor suite is expected to replace the damaged vision or hearing of someone who has lost theirs. Your AI can expand and contain the breadth of knowledge and actually learn, instead of just regurgitate answers it had received beforehand.”

“What of this?” the robot touched the gray fleshy material covering its lower abdomen, stretching down to its thighs.

“That is actually two things. The first is a synthetic skin that can be created to replace basic skin grafts and other replacement techniques we currently have. The second is that the skin is used as a mount for artificial nerves that can replace damaged ones.”

The robot ran its hands over its body as she explained it. Fine black digits ran over smooth arms and shoulders, stroking across the lighter fake flesh that extended over parts of itself. It then raised its head and looked at her again, cocking its head to the side. In the black glass dome of its face, Nat could only see her own reflection, distorted like staring into dark water. She had always taken issue with the way her nose sat, or criticized that one eyebrow was higher than the other. The self deprecation had always come easy, but looking back at herself from this angle, it was like seeing herself anew, as she really was. When she had begun construction on the robot's exoskeleton so long ago, she had wondered if this would feel like interacting with her child for the first time, but now, she realized, it was more like talking to herself. She felt love for the machine in a way that was hard to quantify, and thus, she knew, she loved herself, in some weird, roundabout way.

“My design, my purpose, is for medical research, is that correct?” the robot asked. She saw, in her reflection, the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile that she liked seeing.

“Your design, yes. You were made with the intention of looking into a variety of medical advancements all at once, to see how they might interact with each other, as well as individually. But your purpose is for you to decide, once you find it. That might take some time, but I think all living things will eventually find it.”

“Am I alive?” the robot's question wasn't exactly unexpected, but it was quick to ask so bluntly.

“Scientifically, maybe not. Ethically, I'm sure some people would take issue with me trying to say otherwise, but realistically? In my mind? You move, you think, you have the potential to imagine, and dream, and exist here. I don't see why you couldn't consider that being alive.”

The robot nodded, its hidden visual sensors scanning Nat up and down, taking in the sight of what it could consider life, based solely on firsthand experience and not a dataset provided before it had even been conscious. Her dyed blonde hair had faded quite a bit since its last treatment, with longer dark roots peaking out. Her eye mascara was smudged, but the dark rings around her eyes framed her gray-blue irises almost ethereally. Her loose tank top draped across her body and hid her shape, and her shorts were stained with pen ink. In spite of her unkempt appearance, or perhaps because of it, the robot perceived, that this was life.

They both shook off the initial studiousness of their first interaction, and Nat turned to her computer, minimizing the command prompt window and revealing a program with a split screen. On one side, an image that appeared to resemble an approximation of a human brain structure. On the other, lines of data were being written and recorded, a text log of the robots experiences made legible.

“Before we get too existential,” Nat said almost wistfully, “we need to make sure your various systems are functioning the way they are intended to.” She turned back to the robot and handed it a ball. It appeared like a gel filled stress ball, and the robot took it, turning it over in its hand. “I just need you to give that a squeeze. Use your instincts and apply enough pressure to squish it, but not break it.”

The robot looked at the ball for a moment and squished it twice in its hand. The portions of the ball not covered by the robot's palm and fingers would expand briefly with the pressure, but would relax as soon as the pressure was let off. The robot then closed its fist around the ball, with the gel-filled portions blowing up to larger size, and it held that position. Nat jotted a note down on a piece of paper with her pencil and then nodded.

“Okay, you can go ahead and release it.” The robot relaxed its fingers and the ball returned to its normal shape. Nat took it and then turned to fully face the robot again. “Now I'm going to test the artificial nerves in the skin.” She pressed the eraser of her pencil against the gray flesh on the robot's hip and turned to look at her monitor. A portion of the brain image lit up. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes,” the robot answered curtly. Nat scribbled something else down on her note paper.

“Okay, now look over there,” she gestured with her pencil. She had to be sure that the sensation registration was due to the actual physical stimuli, and not the recognition that touching the spot should produce a registration. The robot turned its head to look in the direction she had indicated, and then she pushed down on the middle of its thigh. Again, she turned her head to look at the screen, and saw the same area of the brain image glowing. “Do you feel that?”

“Yes,” the robot answered again.

“Don't look, but show me where,” she said. Making sure that it could identify the location of the sensation was also important, so its spatial awareness was also under observation. The robot slid its hand over the skin and touched a single finger directly next to her pencil. A simple example of manual dexterity, which would certainly be tested later, but good to know. “Okay, now one more,” she said. Flipping her pencil around, she pressed the sharpened graphite into a spot near its groin, where the thigh and hip met. Even without seeing the pencil, the robot reacted stronger than she had anticipated. It jolted at the sudden sharp stimuli, and the hand that was still resting on its thigh clenched into a fist. She quickly withdrew the pencil from the skin.

“I'm so sorry!” her voice seemed almost panicked as she checked the monitor. Not only had it registered the sensation, but the synaptic response on the monitor showed a lingering feeling as it slowly dissipated. “How do you feel?” she turned her head back to look at the robot, which had returned its gaze to her.

“Warm,” it answered. She looked down to see that her hand was placed over the spot her pencil had poked, stabbed really, and that feeling was helping to calm the feeling in the robot. She exhaled, and pushed her bangs back. At least that much worked.

“I'm going to log your reactions so far, just a second.” Nat spun around on the floor, selecting a portion of the text that still scrolled across her screen and saving it in a separate folder. The robot tilted its head and examined the tattoo on her shoulder while she worked. A diamond butterfly unfurling its wings and escaping a cocoon made of coal on the back of her right arm. A little on the nose, to be sure, but her friends had assured her the imagery was lovely. Something beautiful and real coming out of a period of harsh change under tremendous pressure. It defined Nat's life, growing up in a family that was always standoffish, not fitting in for so long and not knowing why. Diagnosis after diagnosis making matters worse, while she struggled to find herself, becoming sloth, and finally discovering her own truth and breaking free of the old things. She still carried parts of her from before, but she was unrecognizable and planned to live her life the way that was best for her. None of this was necessarily spoken by the art itself, but the idea was still conveyed well enough.

“What is all this,” the robot said in a softer tone than it had been using, running its hand over the inked skin. None of the photos she had trained its recognition algorithm on had included the tattoo, apparently, and the robot only had a vague grasp of what it was. Instinctively, Nat's hand went up and she placed it over the robot's.

“It's a story, etched into my skin forever. It's art, something that makes me happy.”

“Can you do that? Make changes to yourself?” Nat laughed at the sudden question. The ink was the least of the changes she had ever made to herself.

“Yes, we all have these bodies, but the beautiful thing is that they're ours. We can generally do whatever we want with them.”

“Would I be able to do that?” the robot asked. It was a valid question, and had she been talking to a person, the answer would have been obvious. But the robot had been designed in a way that was different than a human. It had a similar shape, similar features, but it was made to do something entirely different, and because of that, the question was a bit more complex.

“Would that make you happy?” she decided to answer. The robot traced the wings of the butterfly gently with one finger.

“I don't know. Maybe,” it replied. Nat nodded.

“That's part of what I meant earlier, when I said you can find your purpose. If you want to make modifications, when you are ready, then perhaps you can.” There was a longer pause between the two as Nat saved the final file. She sat facing the screen for a moment, chewing the end of her pencil in thought. Once she had made up her mind, Nat pulled her mouse cursor up to a toggle that showed OFF and clicked it.

Honestly, fuck it, she thought, once again hearings her heart race in her ears, louder than before. If every other test is going off without a hitch, might as well try the last bit. Turning around again, she faced the robot once more. The two of them sat with their legs crossed in front of them, the robot obviously at some point copying Nat's posture, though whether the choice was subconscious or not wasn't immediately clear.

“There's one more feature you were designed with that I want to check out,” she said. The robot tilted its head, studying her slightly flushed face. “For a variety of reasons, sometimes specific body parts are needed to be replaced, or built from scratch, and our current technological advancement is not where it could be. So you were also designed with this feature in mind, to see if it was possible to make one that accurately mimics the natural human body response.” Nat swore she heard a drum solo as she placed her hands on the robot's knees. From its position on the air mattress, it had a slightly higher position than her, which was more than reasonable.

“What do you need to do to test this response?” the robot asked innocently. Nat kind of wished there was a little bit more deviousness to the inquiry, but that was fine. Maybe it would learn that behaviour later.

“Just relax,” she said, pressing one hand on its lower abdomen and pushing it back slightly, which it obliged and propped itself back on its hands. “I need to see how it all works.”

Nat ran her hands from the robot's knees down its inner thighs, which seemed to tense and then relax with her touch. Though it hadn't questioned it before, the robot was suddenly aware of an extra appendage on its body, smaller and slender. But as her fingertips traced small circles across its inner thighs, the additional part began, quickly, to swell. The robot initially believed it to be some sort of error, but the slight twinkle in Nat's eyes belayed this concern, and it watched as she began to press her lips to the inner, upper thigh portions of its skin. Each kiss sent a shock of reaction up the leg, to the groin where the part had become nearly fully erect, and then up to the robot's brain. Without knowing why, the robot clenched one of its hands against the mattress.

“It does react realistically,” Nat said. The robot seemed to shiver as she stopped. “That's good news, but there's a few other things I want to make sure work.”

“Like wh-!” the robot was cut off as Nat smirked and engulfed its cock in her mouth. The skin had the same feeling as human, and the heat it produced was comparable to any person, but the rush to Nat's head was far more exhilarating than any other time in her life. Her tongue ran over the tip and the robot's leg shook. She sucked it further into her mouth and she swore she heard the robot's internal fans kick up to compensate for the increased heat. She tried to steady herself, breathing through her nose as she bobbed her head up and down slowly on the robot's cock, feeling like it was melting on her tongue. She chanced a glance up at its black domed face, which was tilting from side to side, thrashing around in ecstasy. Certainly the plan was working well. But she needed to check how well.

Grabbing the robot's hips, scooting closer, she began moving her head faster, running her tongue across the tip of its cock every time she got near the top. The robot's legs were now quaking quite a bit, and it suddenly leaned forward, placing its hands on the back of her head and bucking its hips, the loud whirring of its fans matching her heartbeat. It held her in that position for just a moment before releasing her. Nat pulled her head up off its member, relieved to be able to take a few full gulps of air.

“What was that?” the robot asked, its voice peaking.

“That was a test to see if you can orgasm,” Nat panted, “and while normally you might produce a sort of liquid material, I wasn't really able to... get anything like that for you.” Nat's face was bright red as she said the last few words. “There's a small reservoir system in your lower abdomen and a pump that would probably recreate it, but I didn't have anything to use this time around so it's empty. That said, it's good to know everything is working as planned."

The robot was still shaking minutely, and Nat watched it, pushing her bangs back and rubbing her thighs together. She had a desperate need of release, herself. It wasn't exactly part of the plan, but she felt needy, and even though she had never quite gone that far with any person before... The thought crept back into her mind, seeing her own reflection in its faceplate, loving herself. And she wanted to feel loved. Glancing down, she noticed that the robot's cock was, in fact, still fully erect. She had felt it unnecessary to reproduce a refractory period, and thus the robot simply could wait it out or, had it been aware, simply shut off the system. But she didn't want it to be aware. Not yet.

“Hey, come here,” she said, getting up and holding the robot close. Even the carbon fiber felt warm and lifelike to the touch. Not as soft as skin, but comforting. The robot reciprocated, wrapping its arms around her waist and pulled her close. She held that position for a second, then pulled back from it. “Now to check endurance, is that okay?” Nat almost feared a response that was unsure she would even get.

“Of course, if that's what's needed.” The robot's blunt answer betrayed its appearance as it looked her up and down. She stripped off her shirt, and touched the robot's stomach. It mirrored her behaviour, splaying its fingers over her skin and dragging them across her body. As it felt her, she knew it wasn't able to truly experience the sensation, but hoped that perhaps it was perceiving it. She undid her shorts and dropped them as it explored her chest, her head tilting back. She slid her underwear down as well, and knelt in front of the robot completely naked. She couldn't hide her face, she knew it, and the robot would likely not understand the concept of shame, but she still felt compelled.

Its hands trailed down her hips and thighs, and one cupped her own cock. Nat felt like dying as it ran the soft fingertips over her, but she couldn't ask it to stop. She wanted more, her body felt like an inferno. It stroked her cock, and ran its thumb over the tip, mimicking the way she had licked it, and she let out a squeak. It pumped her a bit more, before she felt like collapsing backwards.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” she panted. The robot immediately released her, and she slid up onto the air mattress. Laying on her side, she brushed away a few cans and bottles strewn on the floor, and tossed a pair of older underwear to the side, finding a small bottle. The contents were crystal clear, and glinted under the light of the nearby lamp. She popped the bottle open and poured some of it on her fingers. Leaning forward and pressing her head against the robot's chest, she let the slick digits coat her ass in the liquid, probing her own hole, which gave way easily to one of her fingers. She then poured some more of the lube onto the robot's cock, and it shook slightly as she stroked it up and down, coating it in the shimmering liquid. Nat then laid herself on her back, legs spread, and gestured vaguely from its member to her ass.

“Use your instincts and apply pressure,” she said, trying to go off her own script, “and be careful.”

The robot slid up between her legs, pressing down on her ass. Nat bit her lip as it pressed against her, but when it placed its hand on her cheek, Nat suddenly felt completely at ease. Almost effortlessly, the robot slid into her asshole. Nat arched her back up, suddenly feeling very full. The robot hadn't been designed to be abnormally large in any aspect of its anatomy, but right now, it felt like she was stuffed to the brim. Her legs settled on either side of the robot's hips, and it took over. Slowly it moved back and forth into her, small unintended gasps escaping her mouth every time it did. Her body was melting, and the robot seemed to sense it. As she loosened, it took some bolder moves, increasing its speed ever so slightly, or giving a few stronger thrusts, which caused Nat to toss her head back. The robot pulled her up, one hand on her lower back, the other behind her head, and it began to move harder and faster. Nat's mouth fell open, a string of expletives tumbling out in high pitched squeals and moans.

Any time she had ever played with herself like this, Nat had only gotten a little bit of pleasure. Enough to enjoy, surely, but she could never reach higher levels of ecstasy without touching her cock. Now, it felt unneeded. Her whole body was hot and tense, her brain felt on fire. It stroked against her prostate with every thrust now, sending fireworks blooming behind her eyes. Her moans drowned out the sounds of the box fan, and the hard drives, and the robot's internal fans, racing to keep up with the increased activity.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck,” Nat could barely squeeze out, “oh fuck I'm almost there, please don't stop,” the robot's legs were trembling as well, the same as before, but it obliged, going from a slow to a faster pump, moving its hips in tandem with her own partially involuntary movements as she tried to fill herself up with the robot's cock more and more. “Oh, ffffuck-!” Nat's legs pulled up as the buildup intensified, like a coiled spring pressed down to its limit, before finally releasing. The sound from her mouth was less like a moan, or a cry, and more like an old computer screeching as it processed its next action. Her hips thrust up and down as she came, only pressing her down further on the robot's cock, filling her stomach while she rode the wave of her ecstasy. As she finally came down, legs trembling, the robot placed her back down fully on the mattress, and she pushed softly on its abdomen, indicating for it to pull back and out.

Nat laid on the mattress, stomach splattered with cum, legs too weak to even stay with knees bent up. She panted, trying to catch her breath that had escaped her long ago. The robot sat at her feet, head tilted, hand raised towards her as if contemplating how to help her, if she was in need, did she need medical assistance or anything? But Nat just laughed, and pushed herself up.

“That... I needed that more than you know. I think more than I knew, thank you.”

“Was the testing successful?” the robot asked.

“It was, you should be able to access a um...” she wondered exactly what she wanted to say, “a flaccid function, if you can find it. To keep it down,” Nat glanced down at the gray cock, still slick with lube. The robot nodded and sat back, accessing its own functions, and she watched as the member began to shrink down to a standard size.

“I'm glad you were able to find what you needed,” the robot said.

Nat shook her head, “I knew you had it all. I'm just happy you could experience everything the way I can.” Forcing herself up, Nat sat upright and pulled the robot closer, kissing the faceplate.

“I do have one more question, if that's okay,” the robot said.

“Of course,” Nat pushed her disheveled bangs up, “anything.”

“Earlier, when you first woke me up, you asked me if I knew you, and I identified you as Natalie. But you failed to identify me in the same instance.”

“That's because you never had a name,” Nat smiled, “not everyone has one they like right away. Is there something you would like to be called?”

“I think... I would like to find that out,” the robot said, placing its hand over hers.

“Well,” she turned her palm up and held its hand in her grip, “you have time to find that, too.”

[azullumi]

summary — you present the grand question to him and you await for his answer; will it be good or bad?

characters — wanderer, kaveh, alhaitham (w/gender-neutral reader)

tags — some fluff, some crack, established relationship, not proofread ; scenario

words — 1025

note — i wrote this at 3 am

wanderer

"would you still love me even if i was a worm?"

instead of a sarcastic remark given by him, you were instead greeted with silence as you lay your head on top of his chest. it lingered and lasted for not longer than just a few moments before being broken by the confused tone of his voice saying, "did you hit your head earlier while i was away?"

"perhaps but i want to hear your answer to the question."

silence once again but you waited, perhaps he's only collecting his thoughts and coming up of a response that you'll like, coming up of an answer that he'll say which will make you smile and he'll receive a lovely kiss from you—

"i'll pour salt on you and watch as you wiggle and die."

honestly, what were you even expecting? this is him you're talking about, sappy and affectionate words don't come out of his mouth so easily. he's much more fluent in the language of sarcasm and being mean, however, hearing his answer didn't hurt you or anything but instead, it made a chuckle emit out of your throat—the answer was so just like him. although knowing him, perhaps he's still contemplating on what to say or maybe that answer isn't what he really meant to say, he just couldn't find the right words to convey to you; this is a question whether he would still love you if you were a worm or not.

"but what if i turn into a human once i experience true love?"

you rose a question once again and you swear you could imagine how his eye rolled upon hearing what you asked.

"this ain't princess and the worm or any fairytales that you have read, (name)."

a hum slips past your lips as you went into a deep thought before an idea popped up inside your head in which you immediately voiced out: "would you love me if i was a frog then?"

kaveh

"i bet you wouldn't even love me if i had turned into an animal."

"what are you even on about?" poor kaveh was only basking in your presence as you shared another lovely moment together in each other's arms when he was confronted by that question. he couldn't even tell if you were joking or not based on the serious tone of your voice so he grew nervous.

"you wouldn't love me if i was a worm, would you?"

you could immediately imagine the look of confusion and worry on his face, swirling in the depth of his eyes and muddling his sense of judgment—he just simply didn't know what to say, what to answer, or what to respond upon hearing your question. it was so unexpected, so strange, and just so out of the blue and he wonders where did you even pull that out from while you're having a romantic with him in his embrace. what even goes inside your head?

"are you perhaps drunk or anything, (name)?"

"just answer the question, would you?" you looked up to him, as if you were trying to burn him with your gaze with how you don a serious look on your face.

you pressed on, pressure consuming the air around you and weighing heavily on his shoulders and it feels as if he was being questioned and interrogated about a grave crime he didn't even commit when in fact a ridiculous question was only being thrown at him; he swallowed hard and looked down to meet your eyes before answering.

"i will."

"i will what?"

you know what he was talking about, it's just that feigning innocence and making him have that look on his face muses you and you tried to hold back the grin that threatens to break out of your pursed lips.

"i will love you even if you were a worm. i will even build you a palace and give you flowers everyday. i will do everything that you want. there, that's my answer."

alhaitham

"would you love me if i was a worm?"

you had asked him while he was sitting beside you and reading the book on his hand, this time, the cover was different from what he was reading yesterday. you recall it to be green but now it's brown indicating that he had already finished the one prior—though why are you thinking about that right now? you should be focusing on his answer to your question instead.

"nobody in their right mind would fall in love with a worm."

he responds, straightforward and honest as if he didn't even give it time to think about it—just like what you have thought he will do so it didn't surprise you really. he's a man who leads his life with a pure sense of rationality, basing major factors of his life from books and logic; you rolled your eyes before you retorted, "but what if i was one?"

"logically and rationally, you wouldn't turn into one unless there's some sort of potion or craft that could but based from the books that is im—"

"stop being a nerd and just answer the question: would you still love me if i was a worm?"

you had interrupted him, knowing what will fully come next to his statement. you have been with this man for god knows how long already and you might have already memorized the pattern of his words and analyzed each one of it, it's a strange ability to have but still amazing.

there was a moment of silence between you two, persisting for a few seconds before disappearing. for alhaitham to entertain such question was definitely something and you were quite eager to hear what he would say:

"...it depends on what kind of worm you are."

"so you won't?"

"i didn't say that—"

"save your words, i'm not going to listen to you."

needless to say, alhaitham had to spend the whole night trying to woo you and have you right back in his arms.

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[ckret2]

What your thoughts on other bill ships? Like Kryptos/Bill or Stanley/Bill. I love your Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone fic on ao3 and this is my first time using Tubmlr, so I’m not sure how it works here, so sorry if I sent this wrong place 💔

u found the right place

I don't ship him with any of the Henchmaniacs (except for saying an eye-bat is his ex because it's the funniest possible option), but I think he's hooked up with half of them. I'd say "casually hooked up" but I don't think there's anything casual about it, the Henchmaniacs are fueled by petty drama and rancid vibes.

I acknowledge Kryptos is easy for ships because he looks like he could conceivably be the same species as Bill and we know so little about him you could give him almost any personality, but i'm not interested in it myself. Especially since it feels like a lot of what I've seen with Kryptos/Bill goes for "Kryptos is the one nice guy in the gang and Bill is tsundere for him" and that doesn't do anything for me.

I occasionally contemplate "wouldn't it be fucked up if Bill hooked up with Stan so he could pretend he's with Ford and Stan knew but still went with it for some reason (idk why, maybe Stan's super lonely, maybe Bill's currently wearing a smoking hot human body, the point is we want DRAMA so any excuse will work)" but outside that, nah. I think Stan and Bill would be VERY fun partners in crime and they're GREAT to bounce off each other, but I prefer them platonically, I don't feel a romantic or sexual spark between them.

You wanna know what Bill ships I'm fascinated with?

Bill/Trembley. it's GOTTA be one sided though, Bill's gotta be head over heels for this weirdo like a teenage girl for her first celebrity crush while Trembley never even notices

Bill/the howling void he totally lied about not dating in TBOB. Here I am 15,000 words deep into writing their entire relationship start to finish... I was literally already writing about Bill dating a black hole, who happens to howl, prior to TBOB; so the book just took my OC and made her canon??? yeah sure fine I'll take it, damn.

Bill-possessing-Silas/the 100-something wives he stole from his cultists according to thisisnotawebsitedotcom. weeks after that reveal this is still the funniest & most fascinating thing to me simply because Bill had ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to do that, truly enthralled by his potential motives, I cannot believe this triangle is married

Bill/the shaman. I just think something was going on there. I can feel it. The shaman taught him a bit of magic, how often do you think that happens to Mr. Trillion-Year-Old All-Seeing Eye? Probably not much!