#proofreading is your friend guise

[morethanthatfic]

Pam is my favorite character from the office and any tv show and it breaks my heart over how much hate she gets. I wish more people understood how she gave me and other woman the courage to leave our toxic boyfriend's. She felt the most real and most misunderstood character 😢

There’s a text post floating around Tumblr I’ve definitely reblogged multiple times that says “Self care is blocking two-thirds of your own fandom” and even for The Office that’s so true. I run MTT social media accounts on FB, IG and Twitter and for a while was very active posting a lot and commenting on photos from big fan accounts but frankly I had to step back because of all the negativity and most of that negativity was directed at Pam. I do think a lot of hate for Pam comes from people trying to be edgy and wanting attention for it (and it’s typically easier to get attention for a hate post than a positive post). Plus let’s face it, there’s a good amount of misogyny sprinkled into Pam hate.

Also since Pam is such a realistically written character, her mistakes and faults hit a nerve that other characters’ don’t quite hit. Michael and Dwight’s antics usually start in a realistic place but then get exaggerated and ridiculous to the point the audience thinks “Only Michael and Dwight would get in this situation” and laughs it off. But Pam’s mistakes are usually rooted in her insecurities and might remind the audience of a time they messed up and as a result the audience is hard on her.

And something that’s painfully realistic and hits a lot of nerves is Pam’s relationship with Roy. He may have made her happy at one point but clearly he doesn’t anymore, and yet she stays like so many people stay in crappy relationships. Even worse, Pam manages to gather the courage to call off the wedding and leave Roy, only to fall back in his arms because she felt incredibly low and lonely and he was there at the right time saying and doing the things she wished he did before.

But in S3 the show beautifully had Pam build up her confidence in small, subtle ways through the season. The “light beer” moment in Cocktails might seem silly and trivial but trust me for someone like Pam whose anxious and conflict-adverse it takes a lot to send back that wrong order, and in a way is a little foreshadowing to how Pam reacts when Roy had his violent outburst at the bar. In earlier seasons we might expect Pam to be more visibly upset at Roy’s actions and beg and pled for him to stop (consider how she reacted when Roy got in Jim’s face in The Alliance). But this time, Roy’s crossed the line and she had the courage and confidence to tell him it’s over and walk away.

There will probably always be Pam haters with their boring repetitive gripes. But there will also always be people who find strength in Pam’s story and that’s a great thing.

[anyalovesu]

𝓤nder a pile of papers

IT intern!Sunghoon x HR intern!reader

—in which sunghoon is a hopeless romantic and you are a dense office siren in the guise of an intern.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

genre : fluff

pairings : sunghoon x fem!reader

wc : 5.4k+ words

cw :

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ non-idol!au

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ sunghoon is cringey and rizzless asf

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ( ft. en- , yunjin from lsf , and wonyoung from ive )

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ sunghoon and wonyoung are related + wonyoung is regarded as a future fun sapphic aunt

☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ not proofread ( yet )

song : "slut" (from the vault) - taylor swift ( 1989 (taylor's version) , 2023 )

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Sunghoon was drawn to you from the very first time you walked out of the office elevator to submit your internship documents. You seemed aloof until the associate spoke to you and from then on, Sunghoon swore he was hooked. He slowly finds himself glancing at the elevator whenever it opens, hoping he gets a glimpse of you before you enter your little cubicle and dabble in your own tasks. 

Jake thinks he's just infatuated. Why wouldn't he? It was apparent to Jake that you had your charm and it was especially effective on his best friend. But his best friend disagrees. Sunghoon believes he’s finally met the love of his life. For sure, the poor IT intern is a mad man and a loser. His knees would buckle whenever you passed by them to grab lunch in the cafeteria with your co-intern, Yunjin, but you don't seem to acknowledge Sunghoon's existence. Yet, he didn't seem to mind. He solely believes that the stars have finally crossed for him and it brought you to him.

Lucky for him, Yunjin was not as dense as you and immediately noticed the young man's overflowing feelings for you. She found it laughable at first how downbad he is, but then maybe that's exactly what you needed—a little excitement, a little thrill in your routinary life. If she can't stop you from your clockwork, maybe a little office romance would.

And so, through Jake, just so she wouldn't excite Sunghoon too much to the point of combustion, Yunjin managed to slip a sticky note with your number and Instagram username. Oh boy, Jake was sure he saw a tear slip down Sunghoon's eye when he handed him the note. God, Jake had to hold his laugh back with his friend’s extreme reaction. He's expressive, he tries to convince himself… nothing's wrong with that.

“Good morning, this is Y/N from HR. Mrs. Lim is asking for a keyboard to be replaced here in the training room,” your voice was static and monotonous over the telephone, yet Sunghoon on the other line was already imploding. It wouldn't be reaching to say he might've peed his pants. 

“Coming right up, love,” Sunghoon blurts out before he could second guess his impulsive thought. 

“Boy, what?” Jake was quick to hit the back of his head out of second hand embarrassment. 

“But my name is Y/N…” you replied innocently, confused as to why he thought your name was love. You said your name clearly, didn't you?

“Yeah, right… Sorry… It kinda slipped, I had a friend named Love and I was thinking of her just before you called.”

“Well I hope your girlfriend is thinking of you too, Sunghoon. Mrs. Lim needs the keyboard to be replaced ASAP. It's kind of urgent,” you replied to him politely, completely not noticing the fact that he just openly flirted with you and failed so miserably.

“You are an embarrassment to this family!” Jake whisper-yelled at him, running hand on his face as he gets up to go to the training room. Sunghoon does not seem fazed by his rizzless attempt to flirt with his office crush. Jake, on the other hand, wants the ground to open and swallow Sunghoon whole so he doesn't have to deal with his cringeworthy attempts to woo you.

“Do you honestly not find him attractive?” Yunjin asked you as she sat next to you in your little secluded cubicle in the corner of the office. “He's tall, and honestly conventionally handsome—c'mon, he's an athlete! He's literally preparing for the national figure skating competition on the weekends as we speak!”

“I suppose he is,” you hummed, seemingly uninterested, while your eyes tunnel vision to him in the training room which you and Yunjin had a clear view of from your little corner. He was fighting with Jake over something about picking the wrong wire. “I guess he's cute. But he has a girlfriend. So, he's not that interesting at all.”

“The fuck you mean he has a girlfriend?” Yunjin asked, appalled at the sudden information, while still keeping her voice in a whisper volume, afraid to attract attention and get a violation for swearing. “That son of a bitch has been flirting with you and I'm finding out that he has a girlfriend? How did you find out?”

“On the phone when I called them over. He thought my name was Love and he said he was thinking of a friend with the name Love. So that friend must be his girlfriend right? If he's thinking of her!”

Yunjin's face falls before letting out a snort that she tried very hard to hide but it turned out to be louder than she thought it would be. 

“Miss Yunjin, inside voice please,” your other supervisor, Ms. Hwang calls. Yunjin slaps a hand over her mouth to hold back her laughter.

“Bitch, Sunghoon has been giving you heart eyes since you walked into this office! How dense must you be to not see that he was openly flirting with you?” Yunjin argued in a whisper tone. “I am so done with you!”

“He was thinking of Love!”

“You are Love! He probably made up a stupid excuse because you didn't buy his advance!” Yunjin continued laughing. “Oh my God! Baby girl! Are you okay? Have you ever flirted in highschool?”

“I was homeschooled…” you replied shyly at your lack of experience with socialization. “Family moved a lot when I was a kid.”

“Explains why you're so weird,” Yunjin nodded understandingly. “Doesn't matter now! Do you like Sunghoon?”

“I never spoke to him other than a while ago when I had to ring him up to fix Mrs. Lim's issue,” you replied shortly. 

“Ugh! Do you find him attractive?”

“I told you! He can be cute,” you replied, nonchalantly as you slowly transition your focus back to your unfinished task. 

“Then text him! I have his number!” Yunjin clapped excitedly, earning another stern glare from Ms. Hwang but Yunjin does not pay her any mind and instead pulls her phone from the back pocket. “Text him! Here!”

You mindlessly copied her actions, unlocking your phone and typing the number from Sunghoon's contact displayed on Yunjin's phone. But as you typed, the same number appears in your suggested contacts. 

“Wait? Do you have his number?” Yunjin asked, confused as she took your phone from your hand. “Why is his number named ‘Weird delivery man’? Is he stalking you? Already?”

“No! The weird delivery man keeps sending me delivery notices! I didn't even order anything and nothing ever arrives! I only saved its number to report it to my service provider this weekend!” You explained, taking your phone from Yunjin to show her the messages between you and the weird delivery man.

“What a fucking loser,” Yunjin mumbles to herself as she holds back a laugh. “It is Sunghoon. It's obviously Sunghoon! You don't have to report it. I gave your number to Jake yesterday, that's why he has it!”

“So you're just giving out my phone number out there, Jennifer?”

“I only ever gave your number to Jake and Sunghoon!” Yunjin replied, holding her right hand up to prove her innocence. 

“What are we talking about? Why am I being spoken about?” Sunghoon asked, popping right beside your cubicle.

“Why did you pretend to be  stupid delivery man, you idiot?” Yunjin asked him, moving to slightly slap his arm. “You almost got reported to the service provider!”

“Wait, you thought I was an actual delivery guy?” Sunghoon asked, flabbergasted that she bought on to the joke when he only thought she was just playing along.

“You introduced yourself like a delivery man, Sunghoon, what were you expecting from me?” you roll your eyes at me. “You're disturbing my work. Go back to your area now!”

You wanted them out as soon as possible—you were embarrassed, of course! Your heart was beating so fast and it wasn't something you were used to. Is it really embarrassment that got your heart racing? Or was it your first time ever finding someone attractive and then realizing they are into you?

You hated to admit it but you knew deep inside it was the latter. Yunjin would agree.

“You like Sunghoon,” Yunjin happily says before moving to look at her pile of papers to scan on her own.

Just as when you thought your internship term was boring.

 .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The following weeks were filled with you, Yunjin, Sunghoon and Jake waiting for each other on the way to the office,  before lunch or before going home. It turned out that Sunghoon and Jake live in the same apartment complex as you and Yunjin, just a few floors higher up. So, it was only sensible to just wait on each other and just take one cab instead of going on two different cabs on the way to the office.

You could’ve sworn you were buying your own morning coffee for the entire week. Until you realized you had saved up some money already from Sunghoon buying your coffee before you could do it for yourself. You couldn’t hide the violent blush that rushed to your face when you realized that while you were sitting in your cubicle with Yunjin. You couldn’t calm your heart from racing once again the moment you put in a thought about it. 

Sunghoon took the time to note your usual order when you were ordering it for yourself one time and made sure he got the same one every day before you and Yunjin met them in the apartment lobby. He always made sure you were seated behind the driver because not only was it the safest seat to be in, but also he noticed you got motion sickness whenever you sat in the middle seat. He would also drop by whenever he has the chance to the cafeteria before lunch to ask for what would be served for lunch and inform you and Yunjin beforehand, just in case you were allergic or did not feel like eating what was going to be served. 

So, yes. You are violently and absurdly blushing over the fact that for once in your life, you are experiencing what it is like to be adored by someone who isn’t a friend or family. While most of the times, you didn’t pay it much mind, due to the fact that you always seemed to be busy getting buried under mounds of papers that needs to be scanned, sorted and filed into very specific color coded folders—now it made so much sense why Sunghoon stuttered whenever you two spoke, because you were gradually finding yourself doing the same way.

“Coffee,” you smiled at Sunghoon, handing him his usual iced americano. The boy seemed surprised that you were earlier than him and Jake without Yunjin to be found anywhere. 

“You didn’t have to!” he blushed, a smile growing from ear to ear as soon as he saw the little ‘Good luck with your day’ note you asked the barista to write on his cup. “I was supposed to get your coffee every morning. Why are you here so early?”

“I just thought I should get the coffee this time. Here’s Jake’s!” You smile at him, handing Jake another cup from the carton tray you obviously struggled to hold on your own, leading Sunghoon to immediately take it from you. “Thank you. Yunjin could not be bothered to wake up earlier than she usually does, so I just went and grabbed our coffee on our own.”

Sunghoon couldn’t help but look at you adoringly. You were so… nice and innocent in a way. Over the course of the past few days, you seemed like the person to just mind your own business, succumbing into your own little world. With a little more confirmation from Yunjin, he was able to understand that this has always been the case for you. You weren’t  the best at socializing and it really does take some time for you to adjust to some people. And something about you being so lively and smiley with him and Jake now (compared to your stoic expression when he first saw you) meant too much to him because it was as if you were finally letting them in your little bubble. 

“Thank you, Y/N!” Jake happily takes the coffee from the tray. “Yunjin just texted me. She’s on her way down. I’ll go book the taxi right now.”

“I’ll wire you the amount–”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on me–”

“What? Sunghoon, no!” You argued but your little arguing figure only seemed to bring him even more joy that you were interacting with him more and more. 

“You bought us coffee, the taxi is on me this time,” he explained carefully.

Oh boy. You just looked at him, stunned at his soft tone. 

“Smitten, I’m telling you. Sunghoon is smitten, and you can’t do anything about it, Y/N. Just let him pay for your taxi. Plus it’s gonna be like you paid for it anyway because you bought us coffee.”

You already felt like you weren’t going to win an argument with the both of them especially without Yunjin’s presence so you decided to just let it go. 

 .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Lunch break came around sooner than you thought as you were sorting through the signed official documents that needed to be filed away in the storage room after lunch. Yunjin was going around trying to get some documents signed by the superiors so it was mostly her doing all the tedious work without anyone to remind her about the time. You were only brought back to your senses when Yunjin came back calling you to go get lunch as Jake and Sunghoon were already waiting by the exit door of the floor. 

You tried to hide your excitement to see Sunghoon and Jake and complain about the piles of papers you had to sort through just a while ago. Yunjin often rants about it more, but since you did most of the work, you couldn’t help but get excited over wanting to dish about it. 

Yunjin could not help but notice the way your face and mood dropped when you found Wonyoung from Marketing talking to Sunghoon, even laughing about something you couldn’t quite point out. You heard they were working together on the upcoming event, which honestly, for the first time in your life you wanted to be involved in but unfortunately it wasn’t a job for the Human Resource department, so there wasn’t that much to do. 

Does Sunghoon find her more interesting now that they’re spending more time together outside of lunches? 

You couldn’t explain why you were feeling that way. You and Sunghoon haven’t even talked about where you stood and you were already reacting like this. He would definitely lose interest in you even more as soon as he realizes how hard it is to put up with you.

“Jang Wonyoung!” Yunjin happily calls as the both of you approach them. “I haven't seen you around in a while!”

“The marketing team has been really busy with the event, so I haven't had much time to hang around,” she explained. Jang Wonyoung was ethereal to look at. You were sure that even if you spent the entire day staring at her face, you would still struggle to find a flaw. Even so, she had this light aura around her that made her so easy and light to be around with. Sunghoon would like her even more than you, surely. You had no chance against Wonyoung.

“Hi, Y/N!” She greeted you happily. “I haven’t seen you that much around. It’s nice to finally have a face to your name!”

“Hello, Wonyoung,” you replied, shyly, trying to match her energy even though it took a lot of energy for you to do so. “It’s nice to finally meet you too.”

“Well, I should go. Sunghoon, please remind Mr. Kang that the meeting in Room 601 at 2PM. Thank you so much, you are a saint!” Wonyoung skipped away, which somehow made you feel bad that you thought of her as someone who would take from you—she did nothing wrong and either way, she did not care. You seemed like the only person who cared about it and what does that make you feel? Pathetic. 

You couldn’t believe it. All these feelings for a boy that you’re not even exclusive with! You thought you were going insane!

“Y/N, are you coming?” Sunghoon asked, snapping you back to your senses, realizing that they were a good few steps away from you now on their way to the office cafeteria.

You nodded at him before following them, sticking close to Yunjin this time, instead of your usually comfortable proximity from Sunghoon. This time you were sat farthest away from him, avoiding any glances that would make you feel even more pity for yourself. It was ridiculous! All this for a boy? Insane! That’s what it is.

“Don’t you like your vegetables?” Sunghoon asked once again as he noticed you just looking at your beans and carrots on the side of your tray. You usually loved those, but you did not seem to be in the mood for them right now. Mind going back to the thought of Sunghoon falling for Wonyoung and choosing her instead of you over and over. 

You shrug your head, still not giving him a verbal response until now. “But you always ate those?” He asked curiously. 

“Are you okay, Y/N?”  Jake asked.

Oh you hated that everyone’s eyes were on you now, even Yunjin’s. You feel like you were being put on the spot and you hated it. It feels like you don’t have a choice but to say something even though technically you have every right not to say anything. 

You lied and nodded at them. 

“Liar,” Yunjin rolled her eyes. “Your mood has been off since we got to the dining hall. It’s going to help you so much if you could just tell us what’s going on.”

You could already feel that you were creating an awkward atmosphere by going non-verbal on everyone. “Sorry. Just wasn’t feeling like talking.”

Lunch was over before you knew it. Even though everyone carried on with their conversations with you just listening to them, you knew that all of them were concerned with the sudden dip in your mood with how everyone glanced at you every now and then. 

“Jen, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” Sunghoon managed to grab you by the arm as you and Yunjin moved to leave the cafeteria. 

Yunjin looked at Sunghoon understandingly before turning to look at you. “Do you want to be borrowed?”

You looked at Sunghoon, who looked like a kicked puppy, pleading for a bit of your time. How could you say no to that? 

The both of you found yourself in one of the empty balcony areas of the office that usually served as a smoking area to some visitors and employees that smoked. 

“Did something happen?” He asked, as he sat next to you in one of the benches in the balcony.

You thought of it hard if it was worth saying. After all, you really were no competition to Wonyoung. There was no point fighting him for it—it’s not like you were something in the first place. You were just overreacting right?

“I’m just overreacting. Nothing really happened,” you confessed, looking at your hands while you picked on them to continue avoiding his gaze. 

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You hoped he would eventually buy your lies but it did not seem to convince him at all.

“If it makes you react like this, then it must’ve mattered to you,” he explained, reaching for your hand to keep your fingers from picking at the skin around your fingers, a habit he noticed you do whenever you were uncomfortable or anxious. “Was it something I did?”

You shrugged, letting him hold your hand. “You’re okay.”

“Then what seems to be wrong, darling?”

You contemplated on whether you should tell him or not because now that you’ve thought of it, you think that you might’ve been jealous and had been obvious with it. You and Sunghoon are merely just friends—you haven’t talked about anything. You knew you absolutely had no right to be jealous if that was the case.

“It’s petty.”

“I don’t care if it is,” he sighed. “Petty or not, I want to know just so if I can do something about it, you wouldn’t be uncomfortable about it the next time.”

“What’s it like to work with Wonyoung?” You blurted out.

He looks at you surprised, though somehow was able to piece it all together as he smiled at you softly, squeezing your hand in between his. 

“Were you jealous of Wonyoung?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘jealous.’ We’re not even a thing to begin with.”

“Do you want us to be?”

It was your turn to be surprised. You did not expect to hear that question so soon, with only just two weeks of hanging out. Well, if he was that important to you to the point that you were feeling jealous, then maybe you liked him that much as well, don’t you? You liked Sunghoon. You were way past the point of denying that when you asked the barista to write him the note this morning and when you decided that you were going to make an effort to do something nice for him today.

You didn’t know what made you confident enough to do what you did, you managed to clasp your hand with his and nodded your head. 

Sunghoon almost jumped in his seat, he could feel a tear forming in the corner of his eye. Despite his cold visuals, god, he was expressive as hell and his eyes always had a warm look on them. You didn't quite understand why his parents made him look like that. He looks so handsome and confusing everytime you look at him, but it is always a pleasure to be confused if it's Sunghoon you're looking at.

“What's to say you're not going to choose Wonyoung over me along the line?” You asked him, making him chuckle.

“Because Wonyoung and I are related,” he smiled softly. “She's close to me, we grew up together. Our mothers are siblings.” He explained it so carefully while he ran his thumb in circles against the back of your hand, soothing you as he breaks down his relationship with Wonyoung. “I'm also pretty sure Wonyoung likes girls more than she likes guys. Who knows? Maybe Wonyoung can steal you from me?”

Now that you know that information, you realize that Sunghoon and Wonyoung did slightly look alike. You were too jealous to spot it the first time—also, how dare Yunjin not tell you earlier! She's friends with Wonyoung! There's no way she wouldn't have known! She definitely knows.

“Wonyoung could be our kids’ fun sapphic aunt!” he joked, making you snap back to reality.

“Hold your horses, Sunghoon,” you chuckled at him. “Dine me first, at least!”

“What does 7PM after shift sound like? I'll tell Yunjin that I'll bring you home before 10?”

“Only if there's wine.”

“We'll take the best one they have then,” he chuckled, pulling you for a tight hug. You instinctively wrapped yours around his waist and accepted his embrace. “I'm sorry for making you feel weird about me and Wonyoung, Y/N.”

“I should've asked first,” you mumbled. “At least I can be friends with Wonyoung without worrying if I'm homewrecking her relationship.”

Sunghoon laughed at your reply, pulling away before checking his watch. 

“I should give you back to Yunjin. Your break time is almost over,” he sighed. “But I'll pick up at your table later, alright?”

“Mhmm,” you hummed. “Don't miss me too much.”

“A lot to ask for, darling.”

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“Are you cold?” Sunghoon asked as soon as they entered the diner near the office. It wasn’t too casual, it didn’t look too fancy either. It looked like it was built a few decades before but it was well-maintained, especially the mini tabletop jukebox sitting on the table that’s looking more pristine than ever.

You shrug your head politely at Sunghoon. “How did you know about this place?” You asked, looking around, mesmerized at the decades old interior that survived the different aesthetics that evolved outside of it through the years. 

“My mom used to bring me and my sister here after practice,” he smiled, looking around even pointing at the diner’s mini photowall. “I have a picture right there when I was seven, when I won my first junior national title. During the weekends, my mom and my sister would wait for me until late night to finish practice. We’d eat late dinner here because it would be the only place that’s open by the time I get out of training.”

Something about Sunghoon fondly looking at the place while he talked about his childhood made your heart swell in your chest. You were at least glad that the story behind bringing you to a cute diner was a fond memory and not a routine thing for every single girl he asks out on a date. You were relieved to find out that he isn't like anything Yunjin had tried to warned her about.

“Any suggestions on what I should order then?” you smiled at him. Sunghoon wanted to melt right then and there when you asked, he already had everything written and rehearsed in his head back when he was only fantasizing about talking to you and how here he is on a full on date in a place that he have always been dreaming of taking a girl to ever since he was a little kid.

Sunghoon excitedly scooted over and smiled at her, reaching for the menu to see if it had changed and if his favorite burger was still there. Fortunately, it was still there. He chuckled and pointed it out, explaining every ingredient and how to add up to the immaculate taste of it. He does the same in the pizza that they decided to order. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how big of a nerd he is. It was cute. It really adds up to his charm.

“The last time I was in an actual diner was when my mom picked me up from the hospital because I broke my arm from a bullying incident in school. I was homeschooled after that and we tend to move a lot so I didn’t have any friends prior to being classmates with Yunjin when we finally settled here in Seoul,” you told him, looking at your phone scrolling through your mom’s facebook to show him a photo of you from your freshman year in your pretty private high school uniform with a cast and a pink sling on your arm. You had spaghetti sauce all over your face and your uniform from trying to eat with one hand only. 

“Do I have to get you a napkin? You seem like a really messy eater,” Sunghoon teased. You glared at him playfully, locking your phone and putting it back in your purse.

“No, thank you. I have two functional arms now.”

“Was it fun?”

“What is?”

“Moving around the world,” he asked, fiddling on the engravings of the spoon as he looked at you. 

“Depends on how you define fun,” you responded. “I'm convinced I never really had fun before I met you, Jake and Yunjin.”

Sunghoon cocks his head to the side, curiously raising his brows as if it was going to help him hear better. 

“You guys seem to know how everything works and rarely ever cared about how things would affect you,” you explained. “Maybe that comes with being exposed to the world. I didn't have much of that. Myself from 3 years ago would have a heart attack if she found out that I am on a date now, to be honest.”

“Myself from 3 months ago would have a heart attack if he found out that I am on a date with you right now,” he grinned, eyes crinkling cutely as he giggled. 

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

After many more personal stories and a few more glasses of wine, you were tipsy enough for Sunghoon to assume that it was time to go home. He later found out that you have never tried riding a bus without your mom before due to your semi-overprotective mom choosing to drive you around or give you cab money instead of letting you get on the platform. There was no judgment at all, after hearing all your stories about you and your mom’s adventures around the world and with your dad walking out on you and your mom when you were very young, Sunghoon understands that you were all that your mom has and even he would do whatever it takes to make sure you were safe and alive if you were the only one left for him too.

That being said, it’s the exact reason you and Sunghoon are waiting for the bus’ last trip all tangled in each other's arms, giggling as you continue telling each other’s lores.

Sunghoon was nice. Scratch that—he was amazing—incredible even. He walked on the side near the street, he held your hand while crossing, always made sure you were comfortable, seeing as it was your first time experiencing all that. He was a gentleman. Oh dear. You couldn’t ask for anything more. 

It didn’t take that long though before you started gaining stares, especially after the event where the other Marketing interns watched Sunghoon cling to your side the entire time despite them having more time to work together during the preparations. Wonyoung had her fair share of death stares towards her colleagues but it could only go so far—she couldn’t control them whenever she had her back turned on them. You and Wonyoung eventually became friends too after all that fiasco.

“It’s so annoying!” Wonyoung complained as she brought her tray next to you and Yunjin across from her cousin and Jake. “They are still yapping about seeing you and Y/N in the event! It’s not like they’re entitled to your ugly ass’ attention! Literally it’s so awkward to work with them! All they talk about is Sunghoon this, Sunghoon that. It’s like they want to lick your ass or something!”

“I’m not sure if I want to hear that girlypop,” Jake snorted, holding back his laughter at Wonyoung’s choice of words. 

“I heard one of the marketing interns whispering names when we were in the elevator this morning,” Yunjin rolled her eyes. 

Jake found it bizarre that you seemed to be the most unbothered among you three. You were just minding your own business sorting out the beans and the carrots from your vegetable side and seemed to be having a great time unlike your friends who are about to burst in annoyance that all those are being said to you.

“You don’t seem bothered by it, Y/N. No?”

“I’ve been bullied multiple times before,” it was your turn to snort now. “All these are not even a quarter compared to what I’ve experienced. Plus, if I’m going to be called a slut, which happened on multiple occasions in middle school and high school, it's at least worth it now.”

“For the record, I do not treat you like anything of that sort,” Sunghoon defended himself. 

“Thank fucking god, Sunghoon!” Wonyoung dramatically sighs. “Thank you for giving us the bare minimum!”

“The bar is in hell anyway,” Yunjin laughed. “I think he’s at least decent.”

Everyone else will have an opinion about how Sunghoon treats you but to you, Sunghoon was the nicest guy you’ve ever met. Okay, maybe that’s not as reliable to hear considering you don’t meet and be friends with a lot of people—but Sunghoon isn’t anything like Yunjin’s ex-boyfriends. He listens to every word you say and remembers it. He treats you very well—even your mom agrees when you told her about him once. Yunjin was giddy kicking her feet while lying on her stomach on your bed that night. They were both so fond of Sunghoon and how gentle he is with you.

So, yes. Maybe you were going to be called a slut probably more times than you thought but maybe for once it’s worth it—if this time, you are with Sunghoon.

—end

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

masterlist

a/n : hi hello ! i've been soooooo busy with internship and the idea of this fic might or might not be inspired by my little office crush on the IT intern on the other side of our floor pls HAHAHAHAHA anyways, i hope you liked this one ! you can leave your thoughts here or through the notes! lemme know what i can still improve on or what you want me to write nexttt !!

tnx for making it this far <33

xo, anya ୨୧

[nsfwruru]

heyoo loved your Manon fic so much , can i request brat tamer Lara?? maybe cause she was jelous of how you acted with the other members 7th!member reader plspslsp , love you soo much tyy

Idol!Lara x Idol!Reader

hehehe… okay listen— after ignoring poor Lara for the whole day because you and the others were planning a surprise for her, she finally snaps and confronts you. Being her best friend you didn’t know she’d get this livid at your actions, but the world works in mysterious ways.

cw: smut (birthday sex, fwb, fingering, cunilingus, semi public, dom!lara), porn with some plot, establish relationship(best friends), not proofread

‘Are you a fucking idiot’ was a sentence that replayed in Lara’s head over and over again, even before practice started. For no apparent reason, but to piss her off, you’ve been such a prick ever since you’ve woken up. Firstly, you didn’t even have the courtesy to wish Lara a happy birthday when you got up, and decided to completely ignore her. Which was already a red flag, but being Lara, she just shrugged it off, maybe you’d just woken up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

You also left her completely in the dust that morning, deciding that it would’ve been so much easier if you just left to practice without her, therefore arriving earlier to practice than anyone else.s Once again, Lara, being unbothered like she usually was, shrugged it off under the guise that maybe this was all just a well formulated plan to surprise her for her birthday! Although she couldn’t deny she was getting pretty agitated seeing both you and Daniela getting a little too close for comfort.

Maybe it was the fact you’d laugh a little too hard at her jokes, or maybe it was the fact that you’d cut Lara off mid sentence to bring up something you and Daniela did months ago. It was actually getting really annoying, because poor Lara would just try to include herself into the conversation, and then off you went blabbering about something that was sooo funny to Daniela, but suddenly a secret when Lara wanted to know.

Resting a hand out next to your mouth to cover your lips moving, whispering something into Daniela’s ear, Lara felt a weird surge of agitation course through her veins. She wasn't necessarily mad, she just found no real reason why you would need to be so close to her, especially now, when today was supposedly supposed to be all about her.

In your defense, you thought this was a full proof plan, see, you weren’t exactly the best at hiding secrets, especially with Lara, as she loved prying out every little detail of information out of everyone. So considering that you and the other girls had planned a whole surprise birthday party beforehand just for her, you decided that maybe it was for the best to ignore her completely. Therefore, you wouldn’t be able to spill the beans on anything, when you weren’t in contact with her!

And to your luck, it actually did work! Although it didn’t help with the fact you where all over Daniela, touching her curls, fixing her makeup, offering to give her your jacket after practice, all of things which you normally did with Lara. This anger grew so much to the point even the other members could see it radiating off of her, Manon, who usually kept herself busy and out of any altercation with any of her members, felt like her duty as the oldest to comfort Lara. Only for her to be shoved away as Lara stormed off to good knows where to do god knows what.

Manon, with her impeccable social skills, picked up up Lara’s behavior, asking you to seek her out, because of course, it wouldn’t be a secret birthday, without the birthday girl. So of course you complied, exploring around the building to look for her.

You opened the door to the washroom only to be met with her staring you down from the mirror, not even turning her neck around to check you out. Despite her already natural RBF, something about her set off alarms in your head, at this moment in time she looked beyond aggrieved, she looked like at any moment she was going to pounce on you.

In a docile manner, you inched closer to her, unable to wrap around your head why she looked so upset. You managed to come close enough to pat her shoulders, before she violently whipped back around, pushing you away from her. “Fuck— Don’t touch me Y/N, are you a fucking idiot?” Lara barker, turning her body fully towards you, both of your gazes eye level to one another.

Rightfully confused, you tried to plead your case with her, not understanding the severity of the issue. “What are you talking what Lara? I’m here to comfort you since Manon—“

“See there you go again, always talking about other people, what happened to me huh? What happened to talking with me, y’know, your fucking best friend?!” She bit back, cutting you off completely as she pushed herself closer towards you, from the look of it, she looked like she was on the verge of crying, or maybe even beating the shit out of you.

You felt terrible, not knowing that ignoring her would make such an impact on her, wanting nothing more than to comfort her. “I didn’t mean too!— it’s just that… well y’know…” You tried your best explaining to you, your reasoning just falling flat as she came inches away from you. Besides the fact you were both around the same height, her glare almost always seemed to scare you straight.

“No. I don’t know.” She bit back, rubbing her fingering through her hair, her acrylics tangling itself with her crimson hair. “What’s with you and Daniela anyways? You’re suddenly all up in her ever since today— is this just a scheme to piss me off?”

“No! I would never!” Trying to plead your case once more, only to be met with Lara digging her nails into the collar of your jersey-esc shirt, tugging you closer towards her. Rightfully so, your breath hitches at her actions, finding her sudden change in habits highly alarming, understanding she was never really like this until today. “Ack! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything bad by it! I’ll make up for it, Lara, please I promise!”

“You didn’t mean anything bad by it? You really think I’ll believe the shit you’re spewing from your mouth right now?— Y’know what, I don’t forgive you.”

“Prove that you’re sorry, and I’ll maybe consider believing you.”

So you did just that, you spent a good 10 minutes trying to convince her that you really were sorry, whilst she was backing you up into one of the bathroom stalls. Lara nodded at each and everyone of your poorly made excuses, that you most definitely created on the spot, watching as beads of sweat trickled down your face as you told more and more lies. Of course, being as perceptive she was, she didn’t believe a single one, only getting more and more tired of your lies.

She took it into her own hands to shut you up, pinning you against the door of the bathroom stall, digging her lips angrily onto yours. Pulling away slightly to bite your lower lip with a scowl, “Your a really terrible liar you know that right?”

And with that, she slithered her hands over your bare stomach that you did nothing to hide, while she jerked her hands closer and closer underneath your loosely fitted baggy jeans. Finally gaining leverage under the waistband of your pants, she slid her hands under atop your crotch. Rubbing her index and middle finger around your clothed clit, feeling no need to take off your undergarment since you already felt so soaked.

Jolting in surprise, you rested your hands atop her shoulders in a way, trying to pry her off of you, feeling the sensation growing in your lower regions unbearable. She was your best friend, best friends don’t do things like this, and it made it all the more embarrassing knowing you where doing this at the company’s building’s bathroom. “Hah, oh my god— Wait!”

Your pleading worked to no degree, as she continued rubbing around your bud, feeling your underwear dampen from your wetness. She watched every single detail you could give her, the way your breath hitched when she continued to rub, or your sniffled moaning due to the stimulation.

Moaning her name repeatedly, trying to get her to quicken up her pace, only fueled her further. Removing contact from your clit, you whimpered at the loss of contact, right before she moved her hands into your underwear, fucking her fingers into you, leaving you with another surge of pleasure. Your grip onto her shoulders, moreover the grip you had on her thick jacket, tightened, almost letting your acrylics pierce into the fabric from how tightly you were holding her. “Shit, your gonna stab me with those, can you calm down?”

She took that as a sign that you where in fact, enjoying this as much as she did, giving her more confirmation to finger your gummy walls until you where nothing but a mess in front of her. Feeling how relentless she was, pushing in and out, you felt your walls on the verge of collapsing. She took that into consideration before pushing her lips back onto yours, the hunger in her eyes was palpable.

Her tongue pushing through your lips, begging for entrance, all the while continuing to fuck you silly with her fingers. A combination of the two, made you ALMOST come undone, “Lara, ple… please— M’ so close” you pleaded. Which would’ve been enough to let her fuck you to completion, if it wasn’t the fact you were pissing her off the whole day.

So without a moments notice, she ripped her fingers out of you, and pulled away from your hungry tongue, begging to taste all of her. Quite literally leaving you high and dry and you begging her to keep going, “Hah— Huh? Why’d you stop… I was so close?” Your voice was as curious as a cat, trying to ignore the mischievous glint in her eyes when she pulled away. “Good girls don’t get to cum do they? Idiots like you only get this.”

And with that, she pecked you on the cheek softly, before pushing you away from the bathroom stall door. “So be a good girl tonight, and maybe you’ll get a surprise.” Lara waved herself off, leaving you standing at the corridor of the bathroom in disbelief, looking as disheveled as before. Wanting to confront her, but knowing you were in no position to do so.

In return you did as you were told trying to suck up to Lara as best as you could, while still being wrapped around Daniela, as she was the one who originally planned the party. Which of course, didn’t go well with Lara once more, because she was under the presumption you knew what was wrong, and going back to your old schemes made it all the more agitating. You left with Daniela early, to set up the whole party at the dormitory, leaving, Manon, Sophia, Megan and Yoonchae, alone with a very annoyed Lara. They knew about the whole suprise, but they also knew that it was not a good idea to mess with an angry Scorpio.

Lara was so ready to beat your ass when her and the 4 other girls arrived to the dormitory, but was in an extremely pleasant surprise when she was greeted with all the girls singing her happy birthday, while you help up a cake for her to munch on. So her assumption was right! This was all for a surprise, though she was still a bit angry from before, but nothing a good party couldn’t fix.

The party was everything she could ask for, lots of gifts, surrounded by people she loved, and people who loved her, it was all so extraordinary. Lara was having the time of her life; dancing with new folk she’s just met, and feeling the beat of the music scroll through her. Well— that was true in the first half until she glanced back at you, your arms still clung around Daniela as you talked to her about how well the party was going. Lara who thought that you got the message, felt like now was the best time to finally enact her lesson upon you, to knock some sense into you.

Stomping towards you and yanking you by your wrist as the party continued, the music blaring as Daniela was left in shock my Lara’s actions. Pushing through the crowd of people Manon and Megan had the pleasure of inviting, all to celebrate Lara’s coming of age, she ignoring the ‘Happy birthday”s and simple pleasantries. Finally dragging you into the shared dormitory space where you both roomed together.

She spent no time on getting you undressed, pushing you down onto the bed as her knee pushed your thighs to separate from one another. As her knee dug softly onto your bud, still clothed with your underwear, she felt your body create a wet spot from your actions.

“L—Lara, don’t tease me please” You speak breathlessly, as she’s pulling her knee away and bringing her face down to your crotch, slowing pulling down your underwear. Tangling your hands into her soft red hair, as the sounds of muffled talking and EDM blasting through the living room speakers, was still blaring as loud as ever.

Lara, who had to raise her voice a bit, didn’t seem impressed by you, nor your actions “Tease you? Baby you don’t even know the meaning of that yet.” She’d laugh, ripping down your underwear all the way down to your ankle. And of course, she was definitely going to show you what it means to truly be teased, even if that meant getting caught by the other members.

She rested her hands atop your thighs, stopping them from crushing her in, as her nails bore into your skin. Urging you to stop being so childish and let her eat you out, bringing her tongue to your slit and pushing down a glob of spit onto it.

Brushing her tongue over your bud and around your folds, she took now time into leaving sloppy kisses on it, even bringing her tongue between your folds to get the most reaction out of you. “Don’t stop—please— fuck! That’s so good.” You groan, grabbing onto her hair in a bunch as you plead her to go quicker.

And she complies, licking and making out with your cunt until your a moaning mess, having nothing else to say but her name. Your worlds more like blabbers, as she continued to use her tongue to fuck you, pulling herself away was a chore, seeing how drunk off of you she was. Only creating some distance to tell you how great your being“Good girl baby, just like that, tell the whole world who you belong too.”

“You! Lara, You!” You scream out, still gripping tightly onto her red hair, as her nose rests between your folds, sucking on your glands, your legs subconsciously hooking over her shoulder in immense pleasure. She knew you came closer towards the edge as your body responded so highly to her touch, and the way you were so soaked, all indicated to the fact you came closer to your high.

She took one glance at you with her piercing gaze, her mouth still wide eating around your folds and into anything that was making you worm in pleasure, before prying her lips off of you. “What—” Just before you high could ever come, you tried pushing her back down to no avail, she wasn’t going to continue. “You really thought I’d let you cum that easily? After all the shit you put me through this whole day? You must be really fucked in your brain to ever think that then.”

Without another single notice, she brings herself back up, and kisses your plum lips, digging her mouth that was previously all over your cunt, into your lips. Her tongue demanding for entrance, her dominant hand snake back down to your slit, rubbing the bud once more as her kiss stops you from moaning too loudly.

Still sensitive from before, it only took a few moments of rubbing and soft moaning into her mouth, until your on the verge of letting the walls of pleasure crash down. And being the mean girl Lara was, she immediately pulled her hand away, leaving you in tears as you needed to release soon. “Wh—Why! Please Lara, I’ve been such a good girl, please!” You plead once more, although from the mischievous look in her eyes, she was enjoying the show that was unwinding right in front of her, having no real reason to stop now.

“Awh, princess, you really did need this don’t you? Since you did say you’re just, such, a good girl, maybe I’ll let you cum, alright?” Pretending to have some sympathy for you, she bringing her fingers down into your entrance, fucking you slowly to prep herself. Her slow ins and outs of your cunt, sounded like heaven, considering how wet you were previously, no amount of music or speaking could make her ignore how delicious you sounded.

Her fingers pounded into you harshly, the speed picking up into unexplainable speed, watching you unwind every time it slid back into your warm cunt. “Fuck— you take me so well, couldn’t expect anything less from a needy bitch.” She growled, her fingers fucking into you faster, instead of watching how nicely you sucked her middle and ring finger into you, she brought her gaze back at you. Watching as you scrunch your face in pleasure, and how little drops of drool covered your lips, letting it glisten under the dim lights.

Your moaning became unbearably loud, threatening to expose the both of you to the rest of the party goers, she immediately pushed her lips back to yours. “Mmphf” Shutting you up momentarily as her fingers continued at a high stable speed. Your cords only able to faintly speak some coherent words, and that was “Cum— M’ cumming!”

This time she didn’t pull away, digging her tongue deeper into your mouth as she continued to fuck you dumb with her fingers. Letting you cum all over her as she still pushed in and out and brought you through your high. Your chest heaving up and down as her pace slowed down significantly, but she didn’t pull away.

Breaking away from your kiss, her fingers still resting inside of you, she laughed at the mess she created at this moment. “My, you really did make such a terrible mess here baby.” Lara giggle at you, you slowly nodded as you were coming down from your high, trying to pull away from her to put your clothes back on, only to be met with her fingers pumping into you once more.

“Where do you think you going huh?” Lara chuckled, leaving you to jolt at her touch to your overstimulated state. “We aren’t done until I get every single drop from you.”

And with that you knew you were in for a long, long night, with or without the party going on outside.

I physically could not get myself to write this fic, GAWD I freak myself out when I write katseye x reader smut for some reason😕

[yuri-is-online]

The Tower Stairs: Rollo Flamme

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City." The words should not be bouncing around in your brain like a screensaver, hitting on the edges left by overblot after overblot. You wish Vil was here to remind you that not everyone who hurt you had been so callous in the aftermath.

But he's not. The only one here who is willing to point out the wrongs is Rollo. Are you wrong for being tempted to let him take advantage of that?

notes: This is fucking 10,225 words and only lightly proofread, sorry. they/them used for Yuu, SPOILERS FOR ALL OF GLORIOUS MASQUERADE, light references to events surrounding overblots, non-consensual drugging and possible Stockholm syndrome, Yuu feels isolated and Rollo has an idea just hear him out. Lots of toxicity all around please be advised This is technically part of a series, the first part features Azul. If you like those consider checking out my masterlist.

Two sentences.

Two students will be sent as attendants to the invited mages.  One monster and one magicless human, approximate measurements attached per your request.

Two sentences barely acknowledging your existence and that was it; the foolish mage in charge of Night Raven hadn't even thought to include a name or photograph (the monster got the same treatment but he could not really bring himself to care as much about that) and he hadn't even made notes about food preferences or allergies.  The attached note was a post-it scrawled in the most haphazard and uncaring handwriting that he needs to take a brief moment to breathe, turning away from his desk to throw another log on the fire and breath in the soothing scent of the smoke.  He doesn't even know what their favorite color is, those poor fools will have to make a guess while they obsess over what costume to throw at them. 

Costume.  His eyebrows twitch as he brings the handkerchief to his nose, the smoke no longer enough to distract from his disgust.  Breathe in, the gentle aroma of rosemary and lavender brings clarity though solace remains tentatively hanging in the bell tower along with all of his hopes, breathe out.  He dares not risk ruining the foolish surprise by asking, but he makes sure to take a nice sheet of paper and properly write out the notes on their measurements neatly, tacking it to the top of the stack where it belongs.  This festival was always meant to be for the virtuous, and while he may not know them, what he has seen of the others guarantee them to be the best of the lot.  The bell dutifully rings out the evening toll and Rollo takes one last look at those two sentences.  He pities you; that's the explanation he reaches for the pain searing in his chest.

~~~~

Halloween feels more like Christmas with how big of a deal all your friends are making of it, and you really lack the words to explain how strange that makes you feel.  It's not a bad sort of strange you suppose as you twirl a little of the thickly embroidered fabric in between your fingers.  Festivities bring good food, an excuse to avoid classwork, and a way to guise showing affection under holiday obligation; it's just a bit odd to see it cloaked in orange, blacks, and pumpkin carvings and not pine needles and nutmeg.  But all of these thoughts are irrelevant, meant to try and distract you from the waiting crowd outside and the social you've been pawned off on.  You take a deep breath, trying to focus on how excited Grim sounds and how cute you know he will look to avoid the terror of being seen.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

Your eyes meet Rollo’s before you shamefully turn to your friends, disappointment flashing through you with just how impassive his gaze remains despite the beauty of the costume.  It’s just a stupid “crush” on a guy who if you in your right mind you would insist looked ugly.  A real choice example of “guy you didn’t know magic could invent,” 18 going on 80, someone who if you had admitted out loud to wanting to get to know better as a friend you would be judged heavily for.  And if you are being honest with yourself it isn’t even really a crush, it’s just your stupid brain firing off a bunch of dopamine at someone offering you a genuine break and some sympathy for the troubles he assumed you’d been through.  Vil remembered.  The tiny, tired voice of reason tried to do its job at the back of your skull.  It is probably very dark and lonely back there.  Maybe guys from the Shaftlands are just built different.  Even it was overworked and making concessions.

“It looks like you are wearing matching outfits.”  Deuce’s kind smile brings you out of your head and back to reality.  

“You look like you’re matching with Riddle!”  You say and smile wide when both Deuce and Riddle puff up in pride.

“We both look like proper card soldiers,” Riddle actually bows to the Vice-President, who looks really happy to receive the praise “you must have really put a lot of thought into these.”  

“Glad you noticed!”  You see Rollo pull out that strange handkerchief and inhale as his Vice-President happily chirps away.  “Since your Headmage noted your dormitories we tried to include inspiration from the Great Seven in the costume themes!  The costumes are supposed to respect tradition, and your school has some too, we figured ‘why not combine them?’”  

“Where’d mine come from then?”  Grim doesn’t seem too fussed even though he asks, he must  really like his outfit.  “Yuu and I are the only ones who care about our dorm.”

“Yes the… note provided for you was most inadequate.”  Rollo is technically addressing the crowd, but his gaze remains firmly on you.  His eyes are beautiful, green and blue swirling in what you delusionally swear is a gentle dark gray frame that will dull and snap back to firm disinterest once he returns to your seniors.  “As such I suggested the capes but these two came up with the rest.”

“We went with purple and black since those are both NRC and NBC colors.”  The VP gives you what should be a confident thumbs up that you barely pay attention to, still caught up in the intensity of Rollo’s gaze.  

“Thank you.”  You barely manage to break away from it and miss the way Rollo seems to somehow stand taller, even if he does not say-

“You’re welcome!” The vice-president and aide continue to glow with everyone’s praise.  “We really hoped you would like them.”  

You can barely hear their words over your focus on him.  If he feels the weight of your gaze he doesn't flinch, nor does he acknowledge it, leaving Trein’s voice to cut through your stupor, startling you with an expectation of disappointment or trouble.  But it isn’t there, he simply seems concerned, and thankfully not with you.  You cannot say the same of your classmates, but then again you had also forgotten the headache you got listening to them argue over their fieldwork group names.  Seriously, how old were Azul and Idia again?  And you aren’t going to think about Malleus right now, the ibuprofen Trey had helped you pack was with your luggage not the pockets of your costume. 

“What will Yuu be doing?”  Rollo is as impassive as ever, but he once again looks at you as he asks, as if he expects you to be a part of the conversation.  How cute.

“Yuu and Grim will be with me.”  Trein turns to scold your friends and though you expect Rollo to follow, or maybe excuse himself to his duties he does not.

“Are you alright with this arrangement?”  He asks.

“Oh we discussed it before we got here.”  You rush to pacify, which startles Rollo more than soothes him.  “As long as Grim gets to eat a bunch of stuff we’ll be fine.”  If anything it will probably keep him distracted from causing trouble to keep bouncing back and forth between the groups, but you don’t say that outloud. 

“Yeah!”  Grim cheers, excited by the mention of his name if nothing else.  “This place has got all sorts of great food right?! Riddle was tellin me all about it.” Rollo seems displeased, the handkerchief comes out from his pocket but he doesn’t hold it up to his face yet, choosing instead to focus on your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking about Grim.”  Your little friend begins to make noises of protest, but they quiet as he looks back and forth between you both.  But if Rollo has more to say he is forced to keep it to himself.

“Human!”  Sebek’s shout demands your attention and you see Rollo finally lift his arm to take the deepest breath yet into his handkerchief.  “You had better not plan on keeping Lord Malleus waiting!  Have you already forgotten he specifically requested you accompany his group?!?!”  You haven’t, but you know Sebek won’t hear that.  

“Sorry, duty calls!” You give your best elegant bow and are rewarded with a genuine smile.

“Yes, for both of us.”  He watches, with a strange look in his eyes as you flicker out of his view like a wisp of smoke.

~~~~ “I was worried when Sebek started arguing and insisting that he join Malleus’s group… But honestly, I’m glad he has a proper guard.”  Jamil does seem significantly less stressed than he usually does, which in turn relaxes you.

“Of course, Malleus’s safety will always be my first priority!”  Sebek is all smiles and pride as the conversation continues towards what direction to start your tour, you find your mind wanting to join in the conversation but finding yourself unable to really contribute.  Grim is similarly distressed.

“I thought this was Group 1,” he wisely chooses to whine to you and not Trien, “not Group BORING.”

“We’ve got to respect their wishes.”  You say, wishing only slightly he wasn’t wearing such a dapper hat.  You miss scratching his ears.  “Besides, historic spots make for great tourist destinations.  You are worried you won’t get any food, right?  I won’t let that happen.”

“Most of the places I know of aren’t on tourist maps.”  Trien corrects gently, but his small smile lets you know he does not mean to come off as reprimanding.  “But Yuu is correct, Grim, there will be plenty of places to feed you as we check on the other groups.”

“Well then what are we waitin’ around for!  Let’s get cracking!”  Grim’s little shout and face is so deathly serious you can’t help but snap a brief picture on your phone, as you walk slowly between Riddle and Jamil.

“So,”  a relaxed Jamil might be a rare sight, but this teasing look is not “what did President Rollo want to talk to our little attendant about?”

“I was wondering that as well.”  Riddle asks much more earnestly, which gets the squirming reaction from you Jamil had been trying to provoke.  “He wasn’t being rude was he?  An insult to one NRC student is a slight to our whole school.”

“Oh I’m sure he was very personal.”  Laughs Jamil and you try to pass off your embarrassment with a cough.

“He just wanted to know what group Grim and I were going with.”  It has got to be enough of the truth to get Jamil to drop it, but as you turn yourself back towards Trien you are surprised to find him smirking.

“Yes, Mr. Flamm was very concerned with knowing your whereabouts.”  He has the decency to shoot Jamil a stern glance when he cackles, but the teasing point has still been made.  You have been seen (for once, the tiny voice argues, when there is something to use against you.)  Thankfully Malleus and Riddle still seem blissfully unaware of what is being implied, if anything Malleus seems deeply pleased at the mention of Rollo.

“I’m glad he was willing to invite us both.”  It is hard to ignore the puff to his chest that comes with the word invitation, your tired inner voice retreats replaced with a genuine smile.

“Me too, Tsunotarou.  It’s nice to be able to take a vacation.”  You should be concerned that Trien has led you into what appears to be a sewer alley, but the soothing melody of the river to your left drowns out all worries and Sebek’s misery at being the sole mage to have done zero research.  Well maybe not the sole mage, just the only one without a collar.

“Hey Yuu,” Grim whispers, “did ya think at all about what Rollo said earlier?”

“About relaxing?”  Please, don’t let Grim get in on teasing you too.  You don’t want to live in a world where he is more socially conscious than Riddle.

“No!  Well kinda.  I mean about what ya wanted to do.”  Grim does occasionally have serious thoughts.  “N-not that I really care or anythin, just y’know.”  Not that he ever outright admits to thinking them.  This one has him so embarrassed he starts yelling at Sebek to give up on thinking before he can hear your answer, giving you time to actually think on one.

It is a relatively easy answer, the same you always have whenever you get the opportunity to leave campus.  You want to look for a way home, but how exactly do you go about doing that?  Maybe Rollo would know this water sort of reminds you of his eyes, tired, he looks so tired but when he was able to talk to you he seemed to relax and now you hate yourself even more than you had earlier.  You force yourself to stand up at a normal pace and rejoin the conversation, as if the painful spike of emotion that a new crush brings isn’t actively wrecking your heartbeat.

~~~~

Yuu.  The name of the student attendant is Yuu, Rollo was already making amendments to the lines as soon as he confirmed that, but your conversation began to muddle his own corrections with unnecessary feeling.  He doesn’t understand it, the strange pull he is feeling towards you; Rollo assumed at first was fanned by his hatred of those awful mages, the inherent desire to soothe you all feels justified but no… he knows that feeling, or at least he thinks he does.  He feels it every time he sees a magicless citizen of his city think about just how much better their life could be, but that emotion has grown dull, this desire burns him.  Even now as he tries desperately with fragrant herbs and the gentle lull of the river the intoxicating glow of relief in their eyes blazes in his soul.

"Forget about school while you're here and enjoy a moment of respite in Fleur City."

It was generic, there was so much more he should have said.  But what could he offer you?  You're not a mage, you have every right to be wary of him.  To refuse his help would be understandable.

“And I hope the rest of you will enjoy the social.”

The thought of the social finally succeeds in sobering him, he runs though his plans once more in his head as he sees the outline of one of those detestable NRC clowns looking over the various bakeries, clearly inept at choosing where to go.  And once again those thoughts flicker briefly back to you, not that Rollo trusts mages to do anything other than pursue their own interests, but he had hoped somewhat foolishly when he had read the word “attendant” that some care would be taken for your preferences and safety.  But clearly he was mistaken, and how he loathes the thought of his plans being anything less than perfect.  The handkerchief goes back into his pocket and his hand brushes up against a tiny bottle.  Dreamer’s Rest such a mundane name for a poison.  It is, no it was meant to be a precaution, but now, as he idly holds the crystal bottle up to the sunlight, a new thought takes shape in his mind.  It is magic, something he despises and believes should not exist, but if he could convince you to drink it… 

Quickly he shoves the thought and the bottle back into his robes, forcing himself towards Ashengrotto’s group hoping the new temptations will disappear.

They do not, as amusing the thought of them purchasing souvenirs is. 

“What’s so surprising about that?”  The look on Azul’s face as he speaks does suggest offense, but that he has cause to be at all sharpens Rollo’s resolve.  “That’s generally what you do with gifts, yes.  What do you two take me for?”  Exactly what he wants them too, Rollo supposes seeing how quickly Deuce and Epel jump to praise him and completely miss Azul’s muttered expectation of compensation.  The three continue to speak of utterly irrelevant topics.

“Certainly.”  He folds his hands and takes the first opportunity to excuse himself.  Azul is a merchant and these two are dumb as rocks, he has nothing to worry about here.  “I’ll take my leave then-”

“Oh before you go!”  Deuce has an infuriatingly cheerful smile on his face for someone who has just interrupted him. “I wanted to thank you.  For including Yuu I mean.”  Azul pushes his glasses up onto his face, curious, it would appear his reactions are being watched, but that this sentiment from Deuce is not unexpected.  “I was really worried you Nobel Bell guys would see them as an inconvenience or a burden since it’s supposed to be a mage’s social and all and they aren’t a mage, you have no idea how relieved I was you had costumes for them and Grim.  I was really happy they got to come!”  

“Yeah!”  Epel’s smile could be described as cute if he wasn’t such a talented mage.  “We’re going to have so much fun at the social together, I can’t wait.”

“Of course.”  Rollo smiles in spite of himself, if he was less focused on making his exit he would have realized he had been since the first mention of Yuu’s name.  “I will continue to ensure they… are allowed to relax while here.” How disappointing, Rollo thinks, that these mages see inclusion of their supposed friend to be a point in his favor.  It’s almost enough to make him laugh, but then he swears he sees your face before him, eyes agleam with wonder and suddenly words lose all meaning.  The handkerchief comes out as he makes his way back to his tasks, the sooner they are done the more of an excuse he can make to see you again.  “Now if you all will excuse me, I have to get back to checking on the other groups.”  It wouldn't do to keep his flowers waiting after all.

Azul frowns deeply for just one moment.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  His face returns to stoic calculation, but he still asks.

“Why?”  Deuce is so genuinely confused it really does make Azul hurt for Riddle.

“... no reason.”  Yet anyway.”  

~~~~

For a creature so gluttonous Grim sure does love to play with his food, it would be cute to watch him catch grapes in his mouth if you weren’t walking through such a busy intersection looking for Azul’s group.  “You need to be more careful.”  You fuss, taking advantage of Trien’s pause to check his maps to gently poke Grim’s nose.  He sneezes.

“Ya don’t have ta worry so much,” he huffs as if he isn’t pleased with the attention “the Great Grim isn’t able to choke.”  

“Heh your friend doesn’t seem to think so.”  Rollo’s laugh is as smug as it is startling, you swear you jump halfway out of your skin.  He moves to follow you, a noise of startled surprise sending pinpricks up your arms in delight.

“Rollo!  Sorry I didn’t see you.”  Great now he has to think you’re stupid, of course you didn’t see him Yuu!  He clearly just got here!  “Is everything ok?  No one causing you any trouble?”  You have to bite your tongue not to add from my school because who else would be doing that.  

“Nothing’s happened you need to worry over.”  Rollo folds his hands, those water grey eyes ripple with emotion reminding you of your reflections at the riverside earlier. " I simply saw you and decided to come over and see how your tour was progressing so far.”

“It’s goin great!”  Grim hugs his bunch of grapes close to his chest.  “Yuu’s been gettin me all sorts of yummy grub.”

“... it is heartwarming to see how caring Yuu is towards you.”  His smile suggests genuine amusement, and your heart warms with pride.  “But I am curious, have you gotten to do everything you wanted to?  Is there still something you wish to see?”  Rollo says it so passively, as if it wasn't a natural question to ask.  It is, you suppose, a natural question if 

“I’m sorry?”  Rollo’s eyes haven’t once left yours, there is no mistaking he intended to speak directly to you and yet… 

“This is an experience for you too, yes?”  Rollo looks sad you think, but you try to remind your rapidly increasing heart rate that you have only just met so you have no idea if that is true.  “I have some time before I am needed, if your Professor allows it-”

“Of course I will.”  Trien’s voice causes you both to jump, free from whatever strange aura you constantly find in each other’s presence.  There is a strange glint in his eyes, almost nostalgic as he takes Grim from your arms and nods towards Rollo.  “There are a few places I can think of that might be of interest to Yuu specifically, but I’m sure you will be much more up to date with what’s practical.”  You expect him to wait, to confirm just where it is Rollo wants to take you off to but no.  If anything he practically skips away from you with pep that you swear should strain his back.

“I’m so sorry he just left like that.”  You say quietly, and to your surprise Rollo laughs.  The stern look that had been so fixed into your mind since this morning is kinder now, he actually looks like a young man now, the aura of nobility around him seeming to come more from some hidden self confidence you suppose all mages have tucked somewhere.

“There’s no need, I’m sure it would have been much more embarrassing if he stayed.”  Rollo says it so matter of factly you almost believe him.  “So just what was it you wanted to see?”

“Is there a place where-” you eagerly start before flustering with the weight of trying to explain what exactly it is you are looking for.  “Why” will be even harder, emotionally if nothing else.  “Is there any place I could do some research I guess?  Like on really obscure myths and history.”  It was clearly not the question Rollo was expecting, but he does have an answer ready.  

“There is a book store I am fond of across from the main school building, assuming you don’t mind walking back that way?”  

“Not at all.”  You remain trapped in your strange silence, though Rollo does not quite seem to mind.  He easily begins to guide you back towards the school, the tension you had previously associated with him never once returning to his face.

“Do you enjoy reading about mythology?”  He asks as soon as the crowd thins a little.

“Yes.”  Your answer is quieter than he’d like, as if you are questioning the sincerity of your own interests.  “You can tell a lot about what people value by looking at the stories they tell and besides… I just like stories.”  

“What sort?”  The question isn’t sharp, so you silently curse yourself for jumping.  “I apologize if I am coming off as needling you, that wasn't my intention.  As the president of a magic school’s student council I seldom get a chance to speak with… the more sincere members of society.  I am curious about your perspective, you could say I find it important.”

“Why?”  You don’t mean to scoff, but Rollo doesn’t seem phased.  If anything he seems oddly pleased.

“Do you think yourself unimportant?”  The stern look he gives is far less severe than what had been aimed at your classmates, but is still disarming.  “I meant what I said before.  I understand if you find it tiring to be around me as well, but I promise you need only to speak if I am exhausting you.”

“No!”  His pleased smile grows as you try desperately to center your thoughts.  “You haven’t been exhausting me at all, I just- wasn’t expecting the question.”  Rollo’s contented laugh sears you right to your soul, so beautiful and strong and so clearly meant only for you to hear.  You are spared further embarrassing thoughts as you finally reach your destination and he reaches for the shop’s door.

“After you, Yuu.”  Bless the shop bell for ringing you back to reality, and the smell of old books finally luring you away from Rollo’s grasp.

~~~~

There is a peaceful, eager joy about your expression that Rollo tries desperately to write into his memory.  This is how you should look all the time, unburdened by the weariness existing next to magic and mages that undoubtedly piles on you.  His relief flickers slightly as he wonders, unpleasantly, just what it is you think of him and his faults.  Is he truly responsible for your joy now?  And if he is… just what does he need to do to keep it?  He is suddenly heavily aware of the bottle in his pocket, and Grim’s words from earlier begin to suggest an ill formed plan that drives him to speak.

“Have you had anything to eat yet?” he whispers in spite of himself, but you do not seem displeased with his interruption. 

“Idia bought me some grape juice, but other than that not really.”  And yet you have been feeding your companion like some sort of saint.  

“There’s a small cafe attached to this store…”  There is no going back if he says this, there are a million things that should be at the front of his mind but the only thing he can bring himself to worry over is what you will think of him once it is done.  “Would you like something from it?”  You pause scanning the book you are holding and reach towards your pocket, but he catches your hand as gently as he can before pulling back worried he has overstepped.  “I’ll pay for it, please don’t worry yourself.” 

“I can’t ask you to do that!”  So you squeak but your stomach seems to disagree with the strange noise it makes.

“Then don’t.”  He cannot help but smile as he says it.  Cute.  He thinks that is the word he wants to use.  You have his entire attention.  “Just tell me what you would like.”  He half expects you to continue denying yourself, but no.  You murmur a bashful request, and he promises to meet you at the front of the store once he has gotten you something.  He almost believes in his own good intentions until his hand touches the bottle in his pocket as he tries to think.  This… impulse is not his fault.  You will be in danger if he does not act, he needs to find a way to keep you safe from the downfall of those mages who surround you.

There is a selection of fruit and cheese that catches his eye, there is a small dish of honey meant to be paired with some apples.  Dreamer’s Rest has no taste, just one bite from any of these would grant you the relaxation you deserved.  This is a conscious decision he is making, if he commits there will be no way to take it back.  He can beg you to see his reason, but would you listen?  It’s insidious how little visible effect magic leaves on something, nothing looks different or dangerous, the food he is holding just looks like food.

“Have you ever heard of someone traveling between worlds before?”  Rollo should be concerned with how tuned in to your voice he is, how quickly he completes his task and takes himself, with noticeably lighter pockets, back to the front of the store and the tables set next to the front counter.

“Are you sure you don’t mean continents?”  The shopkeep seems confused, but Yuu seems strangely determined.  Desperate even.

“No, worlds.  Like different realities or dimensions.”  You try again.  “Maybe something about liminal spaces?”  That just makes them laugh.

“Oh no, if you’re interested in those sorts of things you’ll need to look at the science fiction section!  Magical travel between different ‘worlds’ is so utterly preposterous, I’m sure Monsieur Rollo will be able to explain to you why.”  You look devastated, as if what has been said is a personal slight.  He lacks the ability to describe just what it is he is feeling now, there is a wariness to how he looks over you he doesn’t like.  There is no reason to doubt your virtue, you have no magic.  So why then,would you be so interested in what would undoubtedly be such a career defining feat for any mage, why act distraught as if you are so intimately acquainted with the subject?  You cannot look at him as he gently guides you to the table, can’t speak even.  It is as if the dismissal has robbed you of your appetite.

“Technically speaking if we had proof another reality existed,” he takes care to breathe in the comforting scents of his kerchief, watching you for any sign of motive “it would not be a matter of science fiction.  As we lack that, however, most statistical models make such a thing out to be quite impossible.  Teleportation magics such as the Dark Mirror at Night Raven possess are already quite rare and subject to stringent regulation, it stands to reason the ability to travel across reality would be much more rare.”

“I see.”  You are quiet, yet unflinching under his scrutiny in a way that makes him want to scream.  There is no reason for you to be so resigned to him, it should be the other way around.  He should be afraid of your judgment, your wrath, not your rejection as you pick idly at the fruits.  “You must think I’m very silly.”  You whisper.

“I think you are not telling me something.”  He whispers as well, trying to sound sincere and sympathetic.  “That your friends and teachers did not tell me something.”  His body moves of its own accord, he stands and places his hands on your shoulders in what he hopes is a gentle manner; you look up to him with a strangely hopeful expression.  It is as if you see him as some source of light, unaware of its hellish source.  “My judgment is fair, so please, unburden yourself while you are here.”  While you can be safe in his arms.

“If I said,” your voice quivers “if I said I did have proof of a different reality.  One where magic didn’t exist.”  He inhales sharply, a new scent worming itself among his affirmations alongside the resurgence of the pain from when he first read those two accursed lines.  “If I was somehow taken from such a place, and wanted to find a way back, would you believe me?”

“Yes.”  There is disbelief in your eyes, but really how could he reach any other explanation for this grip you have on his soul?  The reasoning, as implausible as other scholars would decry it, made a degree of sense.  Why else would such a wretched institution like Night Raven allow for someone so pure to exist in their presence, to say nothing of being allowed to attend as a student?  The best solution, no matter how improbable, is the simplest one, and what a beautiful solution this admission is.

“I don’t know how I got here really, I just sort of showed up at orientation and the headmage hasn’t done mu- I mean he hasn’t really found any promising leads about how to send me back.  That was his excuse for sending me to the social.  He thought that since maybe your academy is also really old and has so many traditions that maybe one of you would know how to send me home.”  Slowly, so slowly it almost burns, Rollo moves his right hand from your arm to fetch something from his pocket.  The large ruby of his ring reflects the dull light of the lamps as he runs just the edge of his handkerchief under your eye, letting his thumb massage the tear towards it.  The comforting blend of rosemary and lavender that invades your senses explains why he keeps it so close to his nose, but those are not the scents that soothe you.  There is an undercurrent, brought by his sleeves and the way his eyes follow the curve of your cheek and stay unintentionally on your lips, of wood smoke and ink that can’t come from anyone but him, who in their right mind would burn something in a bookstore?

“You can speak poorly of him here.”  There is an undercurrent of authority to his voice that should scare you.  Rollo has always looked directly at you, that dark gray blue inviting you to bathe in his light has never once thought of you as the other.  Perhaps because he is too busy looking at your classmates like they are lesser, a thought that you should perhaps pay more mind. “No one is going to carry what you say back to them, I promise.  You poor thing…”  It is all you can do to not collapse into his arms and cry.  It should be condescending, this way he is looking at you.  “It’s cruel to keep you like this.”  Who he is speaking to you don’t know, there is an unspoken aura over you both, an aura of agreement that he could be as cruel as he likes.  Idly, as if he does not fully understand what he is doing, Rollo removes his hand shakily, returning his handkerchief to his pocket, only breaking eye contact with you to eye the abandoned apple slices on the table next to you.  “Are you still hungry?”  He is asking you a question, but it’s not the one he’s voiced.

“Yes.”  You want him to kiss you, but that doesn’t seem to be what he intends to do.  Instead he dips one of the apple slices into the honey and carefully, purposefully lifts it up to your lips.  Wordlessly, he places the slice on your tongue and continues to hold it as you bite down, watching as you chew and closing the gap as you swallow.

His kiss burns, searing you with question and confirmation that this strange attraction is as destructive as it is mutual.  “I have to take you back now.”  He breathes the words close to your lips as you breathe in the smoke of his robes, deeply trying desperately to center yourself.

Your walk back is as quick as it is silent.

~~~~

“Ahh child of man!  Good to have you back, come sit with us.”  Mallues pats the seat beside him expectantly and you gladly settle, much to the chagrin of Sebek who immediately begins howling in protest.  Grim makes similar noises when Azul suggests he sit in yours, but it has much less of an impact when he's voicing them from your lap already.  You breathe deeply, looking around at the sights and sounds of what looks to be a carnival.  Someone walks on a tightrope, there are acrobats tumbling around on the ground, and the whole thing really sparkles with wonder and excitement that feels like magic even before you see the sparks.  It is something that should excite you, but for some reason the more you try to focus on the colors, the more you try to look around the more things begin to blur together.  Perhaps it’s all the walking around you did today but you are beginning to feel extremely tired.  

“And you are all content with such trivial feats of magic?”  Malleus scoffs next to you and you frown deeply, this dance is already impressive. How could this be made better by making it louder?  Maybe he is confused because it isn’t like Briar Valley festivals.

“You could totally upgrade those.”  Snarks Idia.  Never mind, maybe your friends were just dicks.  At least you manage to get some revenge on Idia by making him dance a little with you, no matter how sluggish you feel.  Though it admittedly feels less like revenge when Idia decides to be a responsible senior and guide you back to your seat.  “Are you sure you should be standing up?”  He doesn’t even sound like he is asking the question because he wants an excuse to be anti-social, Idia looks genuinely worried.

“I’m ok, promise.”  you try to grin and bear your way through it but a quick yell for your attention from Grim and the burst of magical fireworks that follow quickly re-directs what little energy you have left.

“Grim, using magic like that in a public place is a bad idea.”  Your scolding is drowned out by other, louder scolds and a spiral into everyone setting off fireworks.  The noise and lights pound your skull with painful overstimulation.  Cautiously, Rollo moves closer to you, concern clear on his face.  

“Are you alright?”  He asks, moving to take your temperature and not finding anything wrong, the only heat you feel is running up your spine from a desperate desire for him to be closer.  You swear you hear someone, Malleus you think, calling for you to join the festivities, but the strange tiredness working its way through your limbs has reached your ears and is beginning to dull the noise around you.  Rollo does not move, he stares down at you intently watching as you dazedly try to stand.  “... Magic is such a troublesome thing, wouldn’t you agree Yuu?  I can only imagine what you have been subjected to, between being stolen from your world and being surrounded by a gaggle of rambunctious foolhardy mages.”  You want to laugh, tell him he doesn’t know the half of it, but your tongue feels like lead in your mouth.  “Worry not- this state of affairs shan’t last much longer.”  Something about his voice worms its way to the back of your skull, maybe it’s the day’s exercise, maybe it’s the noise and lights overstimulating your brian, but you are finding it harder and harder to keep opening your eyes as you blink and try to focus on what Grim is telling you.  He is tugging on your cape and jumping up and down, he has something he wants to say.  He is proud of himself, he has that genuine non-smug happy smile Grim reserves only for you when he wants your praise, and you so desperately want to see what it is he wants to show you.  But you’re tired, so very very tired.  It’s so much effort to keep your eyes open.   So you stop struggling, your eyes close and you feel yourself fall, and conveniently (too conveniently Azul notes pushing his glasses against his nose) Rollo is there to catch you.  “Yuu!”  Grim’s voice finally breaks through the fog, it’s panicked and you feel some worry bubbling up in the sane part of your mind when you realize you can’t move your hand to reassure him you are ok.

Aren’t you tired?  Don’t you want to rest?  Rest here in the City of Flowers?

“Is the noise bothering you?”  Rollo asks quietly, so quietly you wonder if anyone else can hear him other than you.  “Would you like to return to the school?”

“That might be for the best.”  Trien’s hand is cool against your forehead, his voice filled with concern.  “Would you object to taking them back, Rollo?”  You feel Rollo bend to reach under your knees and lift you so high you practically feel like you are flying.  A smile flutters onto your face; his embrace is one of safety and relaxation, with a tender caress from his thumb along your thigh that reminds you of the kiss from earlier.  

“There's no need for that,” Azul tries to attract Idia's attention subtlety “one of us would be more than happy to-”

“That's quite alright.”  Rollo doesn't even bother looking at him as he settles you further into his arms, for a brief moment your eyes open and refocus up at your… captor you suppose.  You know the sound of Azul’s worries, and though you haven’t known Rollo for near as long you think (delusionally, the tired voice is regaining its reason.  This is delusion, madness we are throwing ourselves onto a pyre-) you are beginning to recognize his.  There is worry in his gaze, solely focused on you, from the moment you met him he has been considerate and focused on you in a way that should worry you.  Trien does not seem to share your faith in Azul, you think based on the way Rollo begins to move away from the crowd towards the blissful quiet that he has decided to place his bet on the wrong mage, just as you are about to.

“I am going to trust you.”  You whisper, so slowly you wonder if Rollo even knows what it is you are saying.  If he does, he says nothing aloud, but his steps begin to pick up speed.

~~~~

Fire.  There is a fire to your left you think, the wood crackles pleasantly and gives this strange dream a cozy feel.  Your entire body feels heavy, you can barely open your eyes or move a finger, but you don't seem to be bound to this chair, you can't really seem to motivate yourself to move from it.  Someone's head is resting on your lap, their hands are shaking.

“Forgive me.”  Rollo is whispering, but there is an excitement to his voice.  You realize you have no idea how long you have been sleeping, or even where you are as your eyes open and try to adjust to the dimly lit room around you.  The stonework reminds you of the bell tower from your tour of the school, but you don’t remember seeing this room or the grand fireplace you flinch away from.  “I’m just another mage causing problems for you at the end of the day, no matter how proud I am of my virtues.”  

You manage to lift your head just enough to look down, Rollo’s head is indeed lying in your lap, his giant hat has been placed on the table just next to you, and though there is indeed triumph in his voice the expression on his face is painful.  “No matter how hard I try to better myself, I am still a mage.  I am still filled with evil and I am still forced to use that evil to pass judgment.  I couldn’t even save you without resorting to it.  I wonder just how much you would hate me if you knew…”  His eyes flutter open, gently, much too gently for someone you are slowly starting to realize likely drugged you and definitely kidnaped you, he kisses the top of your hand.  “Can I ask you for your forgiveness?  Do I even have the right?”  Slowly, with effort such a simple action should not take, you move your hand to his head and carefully run your nails over his scalp.  Rollo groans, eyes raising to meet your bleary ones.

“If I can forgive you for this…” putting you to sleep, taking you away from your friends, Rollo did not strike you as someone who did this without there being another reason, Azul had earlier described him as naive and you are inclined to trust his judgment.  “Can you accept it?”  Rollo closes his eyes briefly, considering his options.

“If I were to tell you there was a way for magic to no longer be an obstacle…”  He says it with such certainty you do not doubt him for a second “that I could free this world of that sickness that elevates people undeserving and unnecessarily, would you forgive me for the pain it would cause?”

“Do you see yourself as sick, Rollo?”  You move your hand just under his chin, gently directing his head back up to look at you.  Rollo grasps your hand as you do, rising from the floor as he places it just above his frantically beating heart.

“Don’t you?”  There is pain in his eyes.  Pain and sorrow just like every friend you have seen overblot except without the touch of inky madness that precedes it.  “Or am I just like your friends at that school?”

“You aren’t like them.”  It’s a lie of sorts, whatever Rollo has done, you strongly suspect, is no worse or better than anything the others have.  But- “Why do you care about me so much?”  You ask, voice cracking under the strain of your confusion.  Rollo tightens his grip on your hand, his heart is hammering against it as if it wants to burst out of his ribcage and intertwine itself with your hand.  But it cannot, so it satisfies itself with Rollo dipping forward to kiss your lips.  Softly once, gently twice he kisses, before all pretense is lost and he moves in tune with you to hold onto your cape desperately and kiss and kiss and kiss deeply before he needs to come up for air.  He dares not move fully away, taking his breaths just above your lips and slowly continuing to kiss along your jaw and just below murmuring his words as prayers indescribable as he does.  

“I don’t know why.”  Rollo groans in self hatred as you let out a tortured cry “Ever since I saw you I’ve been unable to remove you from my thoughts, my mind burns with flaming desire to throw away my plans,”  he bites, his teeth sink slowly as you grasp at his robes and gasp “to get to know you.  What makes you happy, the things that make you laugh and what makes you cry.  I want to know that I can create a place where someone as lovely and filled with light as you does not feel the need to be anything more than themselves.  Where, when there is danger, you are protected.”  This too, this mad man who proudly sucks just one more mark onto your skin, is your Rollo, your Rollo who is so clearly going through something he will not confess to you and lashing out at the world like every other mage you know and yet…and yet he is saying the things you want to hear.  The things you have longed for any other person to say to you as he rests his forehead against yours, lips bruised by yours and yet still not defiled near enough.  

“When magic causes problems, the fallout should not be yours to take.”  And just like that, you don’t care.  Not nearly as much as you should, you should be hitting him not letting him admire his work as you fall back into a chair he didn’t need to bind you to, and certainly not thinking of how much you wish he had.  You should hold him to the same standard you had the others.  “I’ll come back for you.”  It should frighten you, how quick he is to return to the stoic calm you had met him in as he promises you something awful.  “There are things I need to attend to at the top of the tower, but I swear I will come back to you.”  You don’t have to think hard about who those will be, Malleus’s angry shouts of betrayal at the (likely) false invitation aren’t hard to imagine, hopefully he hasn’t hurt anyone.

“Stay safe.”  You hoarsely whisper, and Rollo briefly pauses in his walk to the door.  Whatever he is thinking you aren’t left wondering long, quickly with a speed you didn’t know he had he darts back to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You too, Yuu.”  He says your name with something like love once he returns to the door, his smile shines with it.  It’s not his fault that you want it to be, is it his fault that you doubt him?  If it is not love Rollo feels then what is it?  Just obsession or-

“AHA!”  A familiar voice knocks you out of your thoughts and onto the floor.  “FINALLY I FOUND YA!”

~~~~

“It would seem I have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgment.”  Trien’s understatement should fall flat, but Deuce is too busy bouncing his leg to try and dispel his stress.  “I was too focused on trying to make sure you all were not causing trouble, I neglected to consider outside influences.”  There is no need to guess what he is referring to, there is a noticeable absence among the collected NRC students.  “Are you sure you should be thanking him?”  As if Azul can sense Deuce’s thoughts, he begins to voice his own.

“Be that as it may, I doubt Rollo means to actually harm Yuu.  Almost everything he has said to this point about magicless people seems to suggest he thinks they need to be coddled, not punished.”

“Indeed.”  Jamil nods, eyes closed as if he is thinking really hard about something.  “But  his personal feelings towards Yuu is what makes this concerning, that’s what you are thinking I assume Azul?”  

“Like I said,” Azul tries to ignore the cold sweat gathering at the back of his neck, “I doubt he means to harm them, but that doesn't mean his actions won’t have unintended consequences.  Which is why we need to wrap this up as quickly as possible.”

“The rest of you do that.”  Deuce is surprised by how calm he feels, his best friend is in danger, he should be furious.  But all he feels is an unfamiliar determined calm.  “I’ll go look for Yuu.”

“LOLOL what makes you think you need to do that?”  Idia's laughter does spark a bit of a snarl from him, but Idia doesn't back down.  “If Rollo’s following the classic BBGE playbook, Yuu’s got to be in the Bell Tower yeah?  No need to split off into search parties, the princess is always in the final castle.”

“So there you have it.”  Malleus has been disturbingly quiet ever since Epel pointed out how he destroyed the fire lotuses.  His green eyes haven't once moved from their scorched roots, as if he is attempting to sear his anger into the stones below. “I will crush Rollo Flamm under my heel and bring Yuu back to all of us as whole the day they were taken.”

“Dude it has literally been like an hour.”  Idia shakes his head, but Deuce can't help but agree with Malleus. 

“Hold on Yuu, I promise we'll find you.”

~~~~

“Nyhahahaha!  Take that!”  Grim swats the air as if he's cutting through imaginary ropes.  “All those other losers screamin’ and whining as soon as those flowers started poppin up but not the Great Grim!  I jumped all the way up to where that Rollo guy was hangin out and followed him right here to you!”  The story Grim tells you confirms your worst fears, but soothes some of the lesser ones.  You have no doubt that if anyone can solve the threat of the crimson lotus’s it’s Idia, Azul, and Malleus.  As soon as they were done measuring dicks anyway, for now you only have one real thing on your mind; desperately scrambling forward on the floor to scoop Grim up in your arms and hold him tight.  He's trembling, and your heart begins to beat painfully in your chest as Grim starts to sob.  “I was so worried about you.”

“I'm ok Grim.”  You mean it this time, whatever Rollo fed you has well worked its way through your system and left you with the energy to whip away your beloved monster’s tears.  “A bit sleepy but ok.”

“Of course you're OK the Great Grim's here.”  You contine wipe his nose through his sniffles.  “And now he’s gonna get you out of the tower!  Just like a real hero!”  But his bravado has a slight stutter, and yours is fighting a war with your heart.  Your eyes close as you think of Rollo, at the top of the bell tower fighting to defend his delusions from people who would understand only half of what his problems were.  

“I wish I had met him sooner.”  It wouldn’t have stopped this, but you wonder not for the first or last time what would have happened if the poor mage had just had someone to talk to.

“You don’t wanna go do ya.”  Grim frowns, eyes and ears drooping before he remembers he is supposed to be in charge.   “Well then we can stay.  Why should we go back to the other guys!  Yeah!  Screw ‘em!  Always makin’ us do the hard work while they go and have fun.”

“No it’s ok Grim.”  You stand, making sure to still hold onto him as you stand, carefully at first to make sure you are ok to put weight on your legs.  “If we stay here you will never get to be the world’s greatest mage.”

“Yeah…”  Grim does not perk up when you say that, it’s almost enough to make you break out into a sprint in case he has lost too much of his magic already.  “Ya know… henchuman, I don’t wanna go out there alone.  S’ not fun without you.  I don’t wanna be the greatest mage if I have ta not have you.”  

“...I’m not going anywhere Grim.”  You touch your head to his, like a mother cat trying to comfort her kit.  It’s an empty promise you suppose, with how desperate you are to go home.  But if what Rollo had said about teleportation magic was true… then maybe you would just have to pick a place to make a new home instead.  

The rest of the night is a blur.  Somehow you manage to make it down the tower stairs to Deuce, who nearly has a panic attack when he sees you, and Rook who starts composing a poem in ode to Grim’s bravery that gives him a unneeded ego boost.  They do a much better job of explaining what had happened than Grim had.

About the lotuses.  About the pandemonium in the town, about what Azul and Idia had convinced Malleus to do.

“Please don’t ever get kidnapped again.  Malleus got really scary.”  The look on Deuce’s face suggests you will need to give Tsunotarou a lecture later.  A long, long lecture that you suppose you can make somewhat shorter for how glad you are to hear the Bell of Solace ring out.   And for insisting on Rollo still hold the ball.  Getting to see Silver and Sebek try to toss Ruggie, Jamil, and Idia in the air completely makes getting kidnapped worth it.  But…Your friends have not exactly left you alone since the threat ended.  You know why of course, if one of them had been kidnapped you probably would be doing the same thing, but it’s keeping you from some closure.  For someone who promised to come back for you, Rollo sure seems determined to stay away.  It’s making your expression crumple in sadness behind your mask, something you wonder if he notices at all.

~~~~

“I am so grateful to you for providing me with so many memories.”  Malleus holds tightly onto Rollo’s arm as the music flows across the ballroom, piercing gaze strategically keeping him away from the moonlit balcony you have decided to sequester yourself too.  “But I must say there is one matter I think we have neglected to discuss.”

“And what could that possibly be?”  Rollo snaps, the audacity of these Night Raven fools hurts, all he wishes to do is lick his wounds in peace.

“Why, the matter of your unfortunate attachment to my dearest friend.”  Mallues grins, something like fear is finally flickering behind Rollo’s eyes.  How unfortunate.  “The child of man is precious to me, Flamm.  And more importantly they do not share your views on magic.”

“Have you asked them?”  Rollo replies tersely.  

“Why would we need to do that?”  Azul’s voice smoothly interrupts the private dance, he and Idia move to Rollo’s either side, they certainly look concerned.  Angry even.  If there were not mages Rollo would be pleased you had such dedicated friends.

“Because it’s clear from how little you paid attention to their safety this entire trip that you expect them to constantly come away from your magic abuses unscathed.”  He snaps.  “Tell me, if I hadn’t placed them in the tower, what would have happened to them?  Would you have been considerate of their weaknesses?  Yuu is not invincible, and I am ashamed that I of all people seem to be the only one concerned about their safety.”

“No I don’t think you are.”  Azul says.  “Not in the way you think, anyway.  Yuu is extremely capable, we don’t treat them differently from any other student because we hate them, that’s just silly.  Your entire perception of them is based on a terribly prejudiced first impression, and not one nearly as positive as you seem to think.”

“You can just say he has a creepy purity fetish and go.”  Mutters Idia.

“And completely destroy my credibility?”  Azul has more to say, but it's cut off before he can make his point.

“I agree with Shroud.”  Mallues says, causing both Rollo and Azul to choke.  “His treatment of Yuu is very much in line with cult-like devotion towards a magical artifact.  Extremely ironic given his mission statement, wouldn’t you agree, Ashengrotto?”  

“Oh of course!”  Azul laughs, making sure to step forcefully on Idia’s foot before he can go correcting anyone.  “But perhaps back to my point-”

“You don't have one.”  Mutters Rollo, already bored with the conversation and desperate to find you again, just one more time before this entire failed event is over and he has to return to his plans.

“Yuu is a hard worker, and stubborn too.  They do not need magic to be just as capable of what they do as any mage.”  Azul’s words make him pause, he searches desperately for any sign of deception in them, but there isn’t any there.

“You do realize,” he tries slowly, “that none of those qualities make them able to defend themselves from offensive magic, which your Professor at least seems to think you quite willing to use.”

“I mean yeah.”  Says Idia.  “But like, that’s not what he’s trying to say.  If you only choose a route because it has tropes you like then you aren’t really loyal to that character.  If the only reason you don’t want to hurt Yuu is because they haven’t got magic then you are just as bad as any of us.  And trust me, they’re scary smart.  They’ll know.”  And with that cryptic message, Rollo finally finds himself alone with his thoughts.

Two lines.  The first time he saw you the only thing he knew about you was two lines on a sheet of paper that said literally nothing.  And the longer he stares at you, the more he feels like he is drowning under the weight of how little he still knows.

Yuu is a magicless human from a world without magic.  They like to read about myths and legends from different cultures.  They like their cat monster friend and treat him like a sibling.  There, that’s three lines.

Unbidden, his body begins to move towards the balcony where you are standing.  

What is Yuu’s favorite color, do they like croissants?  Are they allergic to any types of pollen, what is their world like?  Do they have siblings, a family that they miss?

He wants to kiss you again, but properly this time.  Not in the throws of a shared delusion, still maybe in the bell tower, but with your full acceptance.

“May I have your hand?”  Rollo feels more sick at the way your eyes light up than anything Malleus had said about guilt and absolution.

“Of course.”  He does not take you out to the center of the dance floor, he does not flaunt you as a trophy won at your friends expense.  He simply winds his arms around you to hold you scandalously close.  “Rollo, do you mind if I ask you some questions?  About some things that Idia told me…”

“Will you give me your number?”  He thinks there is a different way he is supposed to ask a question like that, a nicer one.  “There are a lot of things I want to talk to you about, but tonight I think I want to savor what it feels like to hold you for as long as I can… as long as you are alright with that.”  You do not say anything in response, instead you lay your head against his chest, ear firm on his heartbeat as you close your weary eyes.  “I meant what I said before.  I want you to think of Fleur City as a place where you can find respite.  Solace.”

“Maybe you should invite me to come back then.”  You say and he closes his own eyes to picture it.  He has other places he can take you, better bookstores, more historic places.  Maybe there is a key to sending you home somewhere in his city and if not-

“Careful, I just might ask you to stay forever.”  There is an unspoken aura over you both.  Gentle, new, and warm in a way that Rollo certainly never thought he would be allowed to experience.  An aura of agreement that in time, that might not be such a bad thing to ask after all.

[aangelinakii]

DREADFUL WINGS.

— why won't he just drop you?

summary : ever since jason todd had gone rogue, your affiliate, batman, hired you to go undercover into his hidden mob ring to find out what he's planning for gotham. you need to seduce him, but when he actually falls, you decide you want out.

not proofread !

note : this fic contains a female reader, but almost all of my other works are gender neutral, so check out those if that's what you're looking for, or send in a request so i can cater closer to what you'd like !!

second much more casual note : i kind of got writers block like halfway through this so i kind of feel like it declined in quality throughout, so soz about that guysssss :P

third note i thought of when i almost finished writing : thiz turned iut to be a crack fic LOL enjoy

you'd been an associate of the batman ever since he'd seen you out on the field; it had been one versus almost eleven, and you'd taken each one down wirh skill, even when two or more tried to tag-team. it was impressive, and so he'd taken you in as a trainee of sorts; not enough to be family, but enough to have earned their respect.

it had been brought to both you and the bat's attention that his gone-rogue son, jason todd, had been spotted after months.

video and photo evidence showed him engaging in suspicious activity with some of gotham's most dangerous cartel leaders, and it didn't appear that he was taking order from them. no, it appeared that he was the one making the orders.

gone for ten months, and jason'd already made his way up the ranks of the crime underworld. he needed to be stopped, but there was no way he would listen to bruce wayne. even in disguise, he knew him too well. so bruce needed you.

going into it, you knew it would be a long-term job. you wouldn't be able to contact friends or family for as long as it took to create a bond with the leader, jason, and to get him to reveal information to you about his plans.

then you would be out and gone far.

for the job, you'd dyed and cut your hair, changed your makeup and clothing style completely, going from relaxed, casual clothes, to professional attire, and darker makeup. you were completely unrecognisable, and excited to go back to normal.

who knew what a real mobster was supposed to look like? the only ones you'd busted had half their face torn off, or wore a black mask.

when you first started, completely a new person, you began to frequent a bar jason was said to favour, and sometimes made deals in the back of. bruce had given you some cash ("some" being an understatement) to spend whilst under this guise, so none of your transactions went to your personal bank account, and you'd begun using a fair sum of it to pay for a drink to nurse each evening for a week.

on the final friday, you were beginning to grow bored. you were sitting in a bar on the other end of town to your apartment – the dodgy side – without a person to talk to, and those who did, were drunk men with missing teeth who tried to buy you a drink.

until the stool beside you squealed against the floor as it was pulled out. from the corner of your eye, you glanced over at them, clutching your whiskey on the rocks closer to you.

black hair, single white streak at the front, cross-shaped scar along his cheekbone. big hands, knuckles bruised, scared forearms on display beneath a rolled-up white button-up. this had to be your guy. there was no way it couldn't be.

when he ordered his drink, a deep-coloured scotch, he pressed a few bills on the counter. "keep the change," he gravelled as the barkeep gave a hum at the extra money.

no men in this area of gotham would let their change be kept behind the bar; each of them would never every bit of those coins to buy even more drinks, or drugs, or whatever they find on the side of the streets here.

this was a man who was confident in the dollars he owned. someone who pressed k in return for money. and now you just had to get in.

lifting your glass to your lips, you turned to him quietly, a glint in your eye. noting your shift, he looked up at you, still nursing his stout glass.

"you doin' all right tonight?" he offered coolly, voice a deep concoction of gotham street accent.

a hummed laugh brushed past your lips, curling them into a soft smile. "you could say that," you replied, insinuating a flirt.

and that was the beginning of it. slowly, after then, you – well, the slightly fabricated version of you – and jason began to form a relationship. at first, it was as simple as coincidentally meeting each other back at that bar, but then him taking you out every few nights.

he questioned you a few times what you did for a day job, so you opted for getting employed at a bookshop in the nicer end of town. when you asked him about his work, he was incredibly vague.

after a few months of meeting up at a restaurant or a bar, or wherever, and learning more about each other – although you'd had to revise your elaborate, false backstory, and you knew he was not telling the whole truth about his – jason finally asked you to stay round his apartment.

it was nerve-wracking, the entire idea of it. you'd faced worse things than this; actually, one time the penguin had shot you in the back, and that was quite bad. surely something like this shouldn't be so scary. for all you knew, you weren't even a real person; you were entirely made-up in this form of yourself. but he didn't know that.

as you showed up on his doorstep, looking nervously up and down the corridor at the other run-down apartments, you gave a light knock on the door, half hoping he wouldn't be home.

on the other hand, jason knew he shouldn't have gotten so attached. for one, it could get you in danger. knowing his line of work, having absolutely any personal connections could give any rivals the upper hand against him. secondly, this whole thing went against his own moral code; keeping himself safe.

he thought he knew better, not adoring the flow of your hair, the quirk of your lip when he said something in an attempt to be funny, the way you didn't let things get to his head, like your down-played aforementioned reaction to his jokes.

he thought, after everything he had experienced leading up to now, that his heart would be heavier chained-up. but you'd managed to unlock it.

tonight, he was going to make it official, despite everything else telling him not to.

when he pulled the door open, you immediately tried to thaw the frigidness of your nerves, and force a smile as genuine as you could. if this was what you had to do in order to get bruce his information, then surely you would. as long as he paid you when you get back.

"hey, i'm glad you made it," he smiled, gravelly voice the most genuine you'd ever heard it, and he pulled you in with one muscular arm into a hug, whilst his other hand closed the door behind you.

"yeah, of course," you chuckled, trying to cloak your unease with a smile as you returned the half-hug. "i wouldn't miss it for the world."

jason pulled away, and stopped for a moment to size you up with a smile. his broad frame had been fitted with a black t-shirt, which hugged him in all the right places. "i made dinner," he hummed as he turned to walk you into his apartment, and, surely, the scent of rich bolognese filled your senses.

his apartment was quaint, if not slightly messy, but you could tell jason'd made at least a little effort to clean it up a bit. but a messy guy is always messy, which you'd learned in a previous almost-relationship.

as the two of you reached his small dining table, he pulled your chair out for you before walking around to sit opposite you. the aromatic plates of spaghetti bolognese had already been laid out before each chair. the effort he'd gone to tonight was sweet... but this wasn't what you wanted.

nerves kicked in.

"this isn't my natural hair colour, you know," you blurted out, fingers curling tightly around the stem of the fork beside your plate. eyes wide, you stared on at jason opposite you, who returned the look with a bemused glint in his eye.

he gave a shrug, twirling his fork in his spaghetti, which wove around the prongs like thread in a spindle. "okay?" he hummed, slight chuckle in his tone. "what does that have to do with dinner?"

perhaps if you just tried to be as off-putting as possible, he would ask you to leave.

a few beats passed, and you lifted your fork into the food with a shake of your head. "dunno, just in case that wasn't something you'd be into."

"doesn't matter," he spoke, food half-full of bolognese.

now, what was something that would put off a literal mob boss? right!

"you know, i swear, too. quite a lot," you piped up again after a moment, shovelling some spaghetti into your mouth. damn, that man could cook. "and i know some guys find that unattractive."

some sort of snort came from the man across the table as he began to twirl a new mountain of spaghetti, and he looked up at you with a bemused glint in his eye. "you do realise i, myself have the mouth of a sailor? that doesn't matter to me."

there had to be something that ticked him off.

a few more beats passed, and you'd already eaten half your plate, the nerves catching up to you quickly.

after swallowing your mouthful, you placed your fork back down against the rim of the plate, and looked back over at jason. "i haven't told you about my past," you abruptly spoke. "i'm not sure you would want me to come back here if i ever told you."

with this, jason gave a deep breath, and put down his fork. with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair to assess you, green eyes piercing and scrutinising.

"there's a lot i haven't told you, either," he breathed after a moment, leaning forward, resting his elbows on the tabletop. "a lot i've experienced in my life that i'm not proud of, that i wish could have gone... differently. but that doesn't matter to me. whatever happened in your past doesn't change who you are to me now."

for god's sake, why wouldn't he just kick you out of his apartment? each moment you stayed seated at his dinner table, the more you itched to leave, ached to blurt out your true intention.

barely a second had passed when a switch had flipped inside of you entirely, and suddenly you had tears streaming down your face. (that would be another $50 for the hysterics, bruce.) immediately, jason's expression dropped, one of worry and confusion. "what's wrong?"

your face fell into your hands, hiding the crocodile tears spilling from your eyes. "i can't give you children!" you wailed, uttering the first thing you could think of.

jaw cranked open, eyebrows creased, jason gingerly reached out to brush his fingers over your wrist. "i– where did children ever come into the equation? we're just having dinner. i don't care about children right now. not at all!"

and, almost as quickly as they came, your hysterics had halted, and you looked up from your hands, mascara inevitably smeared beneath your eyes. "okay," you stated. "i'll cut the shit."

with one swift movement, you stood to your feet, the chair you'd been sitting on squeaking against the floor. jason pulled away, sitting back in his own chair, eyes peering at you expectantly and curiously.

"i know why you asked me round tonight."

jason nodded slowly. "isn't it obvious?" he quipped, although his tone had grown wary.

"but i can't date you, jason," you stated, fists clenching by your sides. "because i'm not the person you think i am. really. everything i said is untrue, apart from the hair."

as he peered at you, jason's eyes narrowed, as if piecing everything together in his mind.

"i'm here to find out information about your drug ring, which i know all about. i knew about it from the start, from the first moment i saw you, and even before. i just needed to wait for you to trust me."

his mouth had fallen slightly ajar, eyebrows furrowing as he stared on at you. after a moment, the cogs turning in his head, his mouth closed, and he swallowed the dryness away before speaking. "well..." he sighed. "nobody's perfect."

[o-solemioo]

HIHIHIII 😼!! hru?

anway, idk if you write hc’s or not, but can you do one with feminine male reader x cullen family? like r dresses feminine (biker shorts, crop-tops, skirts, bb belts, dresses, his style is like coquette , etc,,), he’s a vampire, and he is close with the family (a haram for him maybe.)

if not a haram, a platonic setting where they see him as family and sees him as a son/little brother,,

hi anon,

i'm good, thanks! and thank you for your ask. i'm a bit out of practice writing headcanons, so forgive me if this is a little rough around the edges, and maybe a little cringey. (also again this might be a bit short as i'm still getting back into the hang of writing.)

you are loved,

๏siris ☾ ⋆･ﾟ:⋆･ﾟ

— headcanons; feminine male reader

☾ pairing: cullen family x effeminate!male!reader

☾ summary: just some headcanons

☾ warnings: 2nd person (you), polyamorous relationship(?), implied bi/pan reader, bimbo-adjacent reader, very flamboyant reader, reader gets hatecrimed(?), nothing inherently sexual but some slightly suggestive themes, not proofread.

☾ w๏rd c๏unt: 846

—

☾ You moved to Forks when you were quite young, as your family needed to get away from "big city" life.

☾ You were actually able to express yourself very freely for such a small town.

☾ Even as a little kid, there was something just a little bit more feminine about you.

☾ And when you were finally able to understand yourself and your taste, that's when it began.

☾ The women's section was your favourite area of any store, and to you, it was just so much nicer than men's clothes.

☾ By the time the Cullens rolled into town in your sophmore year, you were regularly wearing skirts to school. You got teased for it, sure, but it all seemed to roll off of you. You were just so sure of yourself; so confident. And it drew the Cullens in like moths to a flame.

☾ Alice noticed you first; your style was so cute, and she needed to ask where you got that adorable purple top from. She started sitting next to you in class more and you could tell she started developing a small crush on you.

☾ You didn't mind her company, she was so kind that it didn't even matter. You studied and hung out at your house often. When she invited you to *her* house, though, that's when everything turned real for you.

☾ Esme and Carlisle just adored you, and while Rosalie and Edward seemed to show a bit of disdain, Alice assured you that they just needed to warm up to you.

☾ Jasper and Emmet loved to tease you, asking you whether you were a boy or a girl. not that they cared, they "just wanted to know".

☾ Life couldn't be better. You had a nice group of friends, good grades at school, and an impeccable sense of style, at least for 2003.

☾ Some boys visiting from the town over for a volleyball game found you, and they weren't as accepting as your nice little group. Everything happened so quickly that by the time you awoke, you were surrounded by the Cullens.

☾ It had already been a week. They were scared you "weren't going to make it", whatever that meant. You were still just waking up when Carlisle announced that he had no choice, and that you had been turned.

☾ Of course you were devastated. Your family, friends, everything, stripped away from you in almost an instant. For weeks, Alice was your only source of comfort.

☾ When you were finally feeling more comfortable, you moved in with the Cullens under the guise of simple roommates.

☾ Things began happening at random. Items of clothing started appearing in your closet when you hadn't bought anything. Your favourite music and movies would be playing whenever you were home. Eventually, you realized it was everyone trying to make you feel more comfortable.

☾ And soon enough, you were comfortable again. Your style as well as you became more effeminate than it already was with the knowledge of how easy it was to defend yourself.

☾ Rosalie was actually the first person to make a romantic move toward you. She enjoyed your confidence with your cotton candy pinks and your bows and pearl necklaces, and flamboyant personality. She couldn't resist and asked you out on a date.

☾ It ended up being more of a vacation to Seattle, with Emmett and Jasper tagging along. When they saw how Rosalie was treating you, they immediately knew it would be a one-up contest from that point on.

☾ When Alice and Edward finally caught on, it seemed like there was a new clothing item or accessory in your wardrobe every day.

☾ Luckily, it wasn't just that. Edward often bought you CD's and Alice bought you books. Emmett bought you whatever was available, usually bags and pins that he thought you would like. Jasper usually found the best jewelry for you, and Rosalie took care of the clothes, as your style let her experiment a little more with fashion design.

☾ You were one of the very few people who's mind Edward doesn't mind reading. Sometimes this can get a bit carried away...

☾ Jasper also enjoys messing with your emotions every so often, which has led to a few interesting encounters. But, when you're feeling down, he's immediately there to make you feel better.

☾ Carlisle and Esme mostly stay off to the sidelines. However, Esme loves to bake with you; not to eat, obviously, but fundraisers are all the rage, and who doesn't love a good bake sale? She's a kinesthetic learner, so it doesn't surprise you when her hands start to wander a bit.

☾ Carlisle can be a bit of a bore sometimes with all of his technical talk, but you always listen when he tells you about his day. He's willing to do whatever you want, too; and when he eyes you up and down every so often, you smile and pretend not to notice.

☾ All in all, you've found your place easily with the Cullens, and while it's definitely unconventional, all you care about is that you're happy. After a long time, you finally are.

—

sorry for the long wait ! i got a bit caught up in life :/ but there should be a bit more of an influx in posts soon :D

[xhoneygirlxx]

Fade Me

Older!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: your night is ruined when your date is a no show. maybe the handsome stranger at the end of the bar can fix it.

warnings: slight angst. reader is 30, Eddie is early 40s. Modern au! Reader's date sucks. Eddie is a sweetheart. Fluff. Swearing. Shitty writing and grammar mistakes!!! Not proofread!!!! Also Minors go away, I'm an 18+ blog.

*if I missed anything lmk

a/n: WELCOME TO MY BIRTHDAY BASH EVERYONE!!!!!!! I'm so excited to be celebrating with all of you guys!! This isn't my best work but I think its cute and that's all that matters. Love you all and hope you guys like this <3

Oh, maybe, you could devastate me.

Little lady, come and fade me.

Everything at the moment was pissing you off, setting spark to the last small fuse that sat within you. The pain from sitting on the hard bar stool was shooting pain right to your tailbone, not going away no matter how many times you switch your position. The unforgiving squeeze of the uncomfortable heels radiated pain all over your feet and you knew they would be swollen in the morning. The group of rowdy girls at the back of the bar were shrieking with joy over something you have no idea about, but you did know that you wanted to drag all of them by their scalp and remove them from the bar. 

This was stupid, so fucking stupid, and you knew from the very start that it wasn’t going to work. It never does and the next time you see your friends, they aren't going to hear the end of it. Dating sites and dating in general were things you didn’t like to partake in and for good reason. 

Out of all your friends, you happened to be the only single one and you were fine with that, but they weren’t. They begged you, since the moment you broke up with your college sweetheart, to get back out into the dating world. It was actually irritating that they cared so much about your relationship status so much, if you were hooking up with anyone, all under the guise of wanting you to be happy. Truthfully they did want you to be happy and they knew you craved having a relationship, but you were pissed and wanted to stew in your own anger.

Well, right now you were everything but happy. In fact you were furious. Furious with yourself, with them, and most importantly your stupid ass date, Luke. After your thirtieth birthday, your friends all but tackled your phone out of your grasp, making you a stupid tinder profile. 

“Thirty is the new twenty one, babe,” Dahlia said as she and the two other girls scrolled through pictures to post. 

Twenty one your ass, you think, especially with the way you’re fighting a yawn at only nine thirty on a Friday night. 

So you gave in, swiped on a few different people who snatched your attention, one of them being Luke. He was handsome, smiling brightly with a bottle of Corona in his hand and a pair of Raybans perched on the bridge of his nose. His bio was simple, straight to the point, and it was the least douchey thing you’ve read while on the app. 

After making short conversation, you learned that he was an investment banker, working in the Citibank building downtown. His interests were the same as yours, very shy yet loved to have a good time with friends. The best selling point was his dog, Cali, that could be seen in a few of the other pictures he had. 

You were sold, with his witty banter and the fact that he had his life together at thirty two didn’t make the decision hard, especially when all the other people you know that are your age don’t have a solid plan. Which in argument's sake is fine, however you weren’t getting any younger and the want to get married and start a life with someone was getting strong, even though you’d never admit it to your friends. 

So that’s why you’re sitting in a swanky bar in downtown Indy, waiting patiently for your date, who happens to be an hour late, in a dress you spent sixty dollars on. It was a pathetic feeling really, putting this much faith into a stranger in the hopes of finding the one. It’s actually why you didn’t want to do it in the first place and why your friends would have to face your wrath when you get home. 

The buzzing of your phone on the wooden bar jolts you awake, the wave of adrenaline coursing through your veins making your heart pump erratically. 

IMessage 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand. 

With a defeated sigh you turn your phone face down, not having the energy to cuss the asshole out for making you wait so long. Pulling your focus on the bartender, you flag him over and order a martini. Dry martini. Very dry. 

When the man places the glass in front of you, he gives you a weak smile as if he knows what’s happening. He probably does know what’s happening, he’s probably seen this happen more times than he’d like to admit and it only adds to your frustration. 

Muttering a small thanks, you take a big swig from the crystal glass, letting the liquor burn down your esophagus. It hits your stomach causing an instant burn, more fuel to the fire that’s been shimmering below the surface. The pity you started to feel has now turned into a new found rage. 

Quickly picking up your phone, you ignore the burn from the sting of the bright light, and tap on Luke’s text. 

Staring at it, you can feel the fire ripping through your body, all the anger and embarrassment you’ve let build up while sitting here coming out as you read his last message. 

Luke: Sorry for the last minute text but I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. Had to stay late at the office today, I hope you understand.  

You: That would’ve been awesome to know about an hour ago. Thank you for wasting my Friday night asshole. 

Before you can text more insults, a gruff voice interrupts the quick tapping of your acrylic nails on the screen.  

“Trust me sweetheart, he’s not worth it.” Pulling your gaze from your phone, you try to find the owner of the voice. 

Turning to your right you see him, two seats away from you, tucked away into the corner at the end of the bar. You’re not sure when he got there or if he’s been there the whole time but his presence alone is pissing you off. You’re ready to aim your dagger like tongue at him and tell him to go fuck himself when you take in his appearance. 

A plain black tee shirt pulled taunt across his broad chest, tattooed arms squeezed by the material just right. On his hands sits more black ink and nice silver rings, gleaming in the low light of the bar. His hair is brown with a streak or two of salt and pepper mixed in, wisps of hair framing his face from where it fell out of the low bun it’s been pulled into. The crows feet by his eyes are fitting, especially when his dimpled smile is peaking through from where it sits behind his glass of whiskey. 

He seems older, at least from the discolored hair and stubble on his chin, but he’s very handsome. Actually he’s hot and if you weren’t so mad right now, you’d be flirting with him. That’s not the case though, not when he has a smug ass smile on his face like he’s all knowing. 

“What d’you know?” You bite back, waiting for the handsome stranger to answer. When he takes more than a second to answer, you cock an eyebrow at him like it’s taking him too long. 

“I shouldn’t have assumed,” He replies cooly, putting his glass down on the coaster, “Don’t text her, it’s not worth it.” When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but stop breathing. 

Big brown eyes looking right at you, so soft and gentle. You sink into the warmth of his eyes on you, almost letting yourself drift away. But you’re mad and this stranger is the perfect person to let it all out on. 

“No they’re not a she, and even if it was you don’t know anything.” You look back down at your phone, tapping away at your keyboard finishing what you had started. When you hear him huff out a laugh, the frown that was on your face before quickly deepens. 

“You’re right, sweetheart, I don’t know anything. What I do know is when a pretty girl like yourself has been sitting alone at a bar for longer than an hour and suddenly starts tapping away on that thing, like you are right now, I know she’s been stood up.” 

His statement brings you right back out of your phone, willing yourself not to wipe that ‘know it all’ look right off of his pretty face. Your scowl is piercing right through him, hating the way that he could see right through you and yet not having a clue who you were. 

“Hey, I’m not judging,” He throws his hands up in surrender, “But I promise, whatever douche made someone as stunning as you, wait in a bar this long for ‘em, doesn’t deserve you. Plus, you’re too pretty to be lookin’ that angry.” He picks his glass up, finishing off the rest before nodding to the bartender for another. 

In any other situation you’d be telling them off, yelling at them to get lost, but something about this stranger feels different. You could write it off and say it’s because he’s attractive but in all actuality, it’s because he’s gentle when he says it. His eyes aren’t roaming your body like some pig, hoping to get into your panties by sweet talking to you. It’s like he actually cares about you, the stranger in her pretty dress who has been stood up by her date, like he’s known you his whole life. 

Slowly you set your phone down, relaxing the sour look on your face, and you take a deep breath. The last thing you want to do is cry, especially in a bar, and especially in front of the caring hot stranger. 

“Is it that obvious?” You ask shyly, picking up your martini glass for another sip. The man shakes his head, moving his posture so that he’s leaning towards you. 

“Don’t do that,” he says, “Don’t start thinking down on yourself. Yes it was a little obvious but my suspicion grew more when you didn’t order a drink after sitting at a bar for five minutes.” 

The statement makes you laugh wetly when he says it, a single tear escaping your eye causing you to wipe it hoping it’s not noticeable. If he sees it, he doesn’t say anything, instead moving over to the seat next to you. 

“Listen, don’t let whatever dickhead person ruin your night. From what I’ve witnessed you’re a pretty badass chick, so whatever frat bro did this to you should be scared.” An inked hand places a white napkin in front of you, a peace offering that you’re quick to take. 

“That’s the worst part, he’s not even a frat bro. He’s a finance bro.” When you chance a look up at him, he’s looking right back at you, pearly white teeth staring at you. 

In a split second he’s laughing, a deep belly kind of laugh with his head thrown back. As much as you want to defend yourself, tell him that Luke wasn’t your first choice, you can’t. Following suit, you start giggling as well, placing the white napkin to the corner of your eye to collect any unushered tears. 

“I gotta tell you sugar, that’s even worse.” The pet name doesn’t get lost on you, heart stuttering the minute it falls from his lips. Trying to pull yourself together, hoping he didn’t see the way you stiffened at the name, you clear your throat. 

“Tell me about it,” You playfully roll your eyes, taking a sip of what’s left of your drink. 

When you move your sight back over to him, he’s leaning back, dimples showing off, almost like he knows something you don’t. He does know something however, he knows that he has some sort of effect on you, watching you with pink flushing your cheeks and it’s not from the alcohol. 

“So,” You break the silence, “Sugar, huh?” You furrow your brows questioningly and it only makes him smile bigger than before. 

When he leans forward you catch a whiff of his scent, pine and cedar, musky and smoky. He’s even prettier up close and your eyes are trying to map out every detail of him so that you can remember it when you go to sleep tonight, dreaming of the good looking stranger who made your night better. 

“Well, between the softness of your laugh and your scowl that could kill,” his voice is low and husky, saying a secret for only you to hear, “You have a little bit of sugar and spice. Kind of like that cartoon with the badass power wielding girls.” 

“Do you mean the PowerPuff Girls?” Cocking your head to the side you laugh, his true age showing in the way that he described the Cartoon Network show. 

“I’m showing my true age, huh? Well, in my defense I was fifteen and you probably weren’t born yet.” His crows feet become more defined. Shaking your head, you wave to the bartender for another martini. 

“Actually, I was five but you were close enough.” His eyes go wide in shock with your admission. When another glass is placed in front of you, you send a smile to the bartender and he gives you one back. 

Looking back at the man next to you, you raise an eyebrow, questioning why he’s so surprised at your age. Blowing out a big breath it seems he’s been holding the whole time, he takes a swig of his own drink. 

“Sorry, I just,” he sighs, looking back up at you quizzingly, “wow, you’re really thirty?” Although there’s no malice behind his question, you can’t help but frown at him. He notices and immediately back tracks. 

“Fuck, no not like that I just meant,” You wait for him to dig himself a deeper hole. When he finally gets his thoughts together, he looks at you, really looks at you and it makes you want to melt. “Listen, I really didn’t mean it like that, I promise. Honestly, I felt like a perv when I first started talkin’ to you, thinkin’ you were like twenty one. When you said you were thirty, I was just surprised, that’s all. Maybe a little excited knowing I might have a chance.” 

You take in what he says to you, how sincere his voice is, and you know he isn’t lying. You don’t want to give in so fast though, you want him to sweat it out a bit. So you take a sip of your drink, your eyebrow still arched in fake annoyance. With an extra shot of courage, you look over at him, fake pout on your red stained lip. 

“How can you have a chance when I don’t even know your name?” Your voice is like silk, smooth and soft. The older man clearly likes it, the way a smirk is formed on his pink kissable lips is a clear indicator. 

“M’Eddie, Eddie Munson,” He offers you his ringed hand for a handshake, “And you are?” You give him your name and he hums with delight. “A pretty name for a pretty girl.” 

You snort loudly at his comment, covering your mouth to stop from any further laughter from falling from your lips. Eddie arches an eyebrow at you, questioning what you found so funny. 

“I’m sorry, that was just so corny.” Another giggle slips from you and the cool facade he had crumples, laughing along with you. 

“S’pretty bad, huh?’ He scrunches his nose and you think it might be the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. 

“Yeah it was bad, who told you that would work?” You take a sip of your martini and look at him from over the rim of your glass. 

Chuckling and shaking his head, Eddie rubs his forehead as if he’s stressed. Now he’s the one fumbling and nervous, you got him in the palm of your hand. 

“Goodness, it was going so well too.” You continue to tease, the playfulness dripping from your voice. Looking over at you Eddie can’t help but smile, those damn dimples back on display. 

“You’re trouble, sugar.” It’s said with the utmost confidence and it has you blushing.

“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet, babe.” It’s an invitation for him to find out and you hope he catches it. 

“How about I find out on Sunday over dinner and some drinks? What do you say?” Eddie leans into you when he says it, getting the closest he’s been to you, letting his husky voice fill your ears. 

Trying to hide the chill that runs up your back and the excitement that settles in your belly, you lean in just as close. “I’d say you have a date, pretty boy.” 

The two of you stay like that for a minute, smiling like giddy teens. Breaking away from the small moment, he pulls his phone out from his pocket, unlocking it and opening up the phone app to type in a new contact. 

Handing you the phone, his face seems boyish and giddy, you’re sure if he wasn’t sitting he’d be bouncing on the ball of his feet. Typing in your number, you shyly smile up at him handing back his phone. 

“I better hear from you Eddie Munson or finance bro won’t be the only one gettin’ his ass kicked.” Pointing a finger at him, you try your best to look as mean as possible but your plan quickly fails when you see his eyes shining at you. 

“Yes ma’am.” Throwing a wink at you, he reaches into his wallet and pulls a crisp hundred out and places it on the bar top. “I’ll be seein’ you soon, sugar.” Wrapping his fingers around yours, he places a kiss to the back of your hand. 

The feeling of his lips on your skin makes you ache for more, and the moment it’s gone you wish you can make him do it again. Pulling your lip in between your teeth, you look up at him like he’s hung the stars. 

The moment is cut short when the bartender asks Eddie if he wants change. Surprisingly he doesn’t look at the older man with anger for ruining it, instead he gives him a nice smile. 

“No Paul, the change is all yours. Also, this beautiful young lady’s drinks are on my tab.” Nodding his head, the bartender thanks Eddie for the generous tip. 

Pulling his attention back to you, he cuts you off before you can chastise him for paying. “Let me pay for the pretty girl who made my whole night, it’s the least I can do.” 

Rolling your eyes, you try hard to not let him see how flustered you are. When he bids you a goodnight, you can’t help but feel the ache of his absence. The whole time you’re in the Lyft home you think of him, staring out the window and replaying everything in your head. 

Once you get home, you sit in silence on the end of your bed, not worrying about the shower you need to take. You can’t believe the luck you had in meeting Eddie and a part of you wants to thank Luke for not showing up. 

The ding of your phone pulls you out of your thoughts, your heartbeat picking up when you read your screen. 

Maybe Eddie: Hey it’s Eddie, just wanted to make sure you got home safe. I wanted to ask if you could thank that loser for not showin up, he really did both of us a favor tonight. 

When you read it, you can’t help but giggle a little. Although corny and maybe a little dorky, Eddie had thought the same thing as you and for some reason it sent the butterflies in your tummy on a rampage. 

Maybe Eddie: You’re totally laughing at me right now, aren’t you?

Bursting into laughter, your tummy flips in excitement, imagining him blushing on the other side of the phone. Tapping away on your screen, you send him a reply. 

You: Oh you know it 😉

You: Thank you for making sure I got home by the way, I appreciate it. 

Eddie: I should’ve known. Glad you got home in one piece. 

Eddie: Night, sugar. See you Sunday 🖤

Fuck a text, you were going to send Luke a thank you card and maybe some chocolate.

I hope you guys liked this! I can't wait to continue this week with all of you! See you all tomorrow with the next fic :)

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[2nv-diary]

flightless bird(have i found you?) | part 1

ray | binary star hero x reader

rushed for a friend who has just passed. gushed over this game with her, so i thought it deserved to be out there. not proofread.

word count: 2,001

It's not like him to move without completing the picture from top to bottom first—plans A to Z listed, supposedly; he had so much time, after all. Every move he's imagined you'd make branches out to 26 different outcomes. He thinks it's enough. Who the hell reacts differently than more than about three possibilities?

You, apparently. You take him out. Make him realize the need of a plan AA. A plan AB. A plan AC. And so on and so forth. He needs more than 26 plans when it's about you. Absolute pain in his ass.

It's the burning sensation in his gut that he almost thinks you are Apollo instead of Icarus. Icarus is meant to chase after the god with wing of wax and feather, but the story must be incomplete like his plans because—

—You are Apollo instead, he figures. If he's speaking about power, you are possibly both. You are the one on the Earth that cannot follow him to the skies beyond—Icarus—and yet you are the one being chased and the one so hard to reach—Apollo.

And god, does he want to reach you.

Bedrock crumbles when penetrated by roots deep enough, but soil clings. Like a vice if compact enough, roots unable to escape—truly, who is the one benefitting? The root that digs deep onto unsurmising surface, or the soil that grabs onto roots to stay intact?

Mutual, at least. They both use each other. Both beneficial.

It's what he craves with you. Hero calling only to be your enemy the moment your eyes meet. His could turn red and melt even the most pressurized of diamonds over—but why did it not cut through layers of you?

So much left of you he does not know. He doesn't like it one bit. Even with all this planning, there's not much to write home about in his knowledge of you. It's embarrassingly—

—Useless; a mind reader that can't still know their goddamn target after countless encounters? He's such a novice. When he shouldn't be.

Icarus seems to have the upper hand. There isn't even an attempt to use the wings, he never uses it for the one time Ray absolutely needs him to. Figures it must be because Apollo could craft wings himself to Icarus—who's chasing who at his point?

Your eyes pierce at him again, but with no fault of your own. No recognition whatsoever, but he doesn't blame you. Years of searching you of course made him remember your eyes, but you haven't searched him once.

And the eyes you gaze upon in television have a ridiculous mask plastered before it. He can't blame you for not making the connection—he doesn't want you to, anyway. But it still stings. But at the same time, this is perfect for him.

A new start for his Icarus—

—Apollo coming down to meet him.

In the guise of mortality, not in the god-like glory, he makes the choice for you. Perhaps if the sun wasn't as scorching, would you, dearest Icarus, attempt to come near now?

—Of course he's not the sun. Sun-like, at best. A void that pulls forces. Devours. He keeps his sun-like stature to fool you. Pulls an Apollo to bring Icarus home. Binary pairs, forever revolving around each other.

So, no. He will not burn you. Instead, he will come to you, attraction pulling hard on his heartstrings.

Maybe it is you who deserves a hero title. You're saving this world by simply existing. You would save much more if you knew your power well, but he likes to keep his cards close.

So when his first move of check in poker comes in the form of a visit to the café you work at, you think the game is fair.

(And it is. All is fair in love and war.)

You think it's destiny—him catching you whenever you fall.

Catching. As if what made you stumble wasn't him in the first place.

Your skin colliding with his—nevermind his sweater's a layer he wishes wasn't in between the two of you—his limb feels like burning from the slightest touch.

Actor setting up his stage, you were lead actress in the dark of what is most likely his idea of love. Ray your love interest but only because that is the limit he allows. Cotton over your eyes lest you see the true number of choices you have.

And you have a lot. He can lessen those numbers, but even so, there is only so much pain in your expression that he can handle and put up with. As ruthless as he is, obviously he wants what makes you happy.

Because if you're happy, you'd want to stay. He doesn't have to plan—52 plans incase you ruin the first 26(you love making him overthink, don't you?)—if you're willing. If you want him.

Pliant, in your soft mattress. His is softer, branded luxury amongst other practical items he's bothered to buy with his money, but of course to hunt is to never rush.

He hates it when you're up and about. You go to places he can't really follow—mundane, you say, but if he argues it's not, then your suspicions raise. He can't have that. All that settles are crumbs instead—

—His name and number, appearing as if you'd scored them, slipped into your pockets. Stealthy, as if he hadn't thought multiple times of how and what if there weren't even any pockets on you. How embarrassing would that have been on his end?

Ray is different. Or so he thinks. He wants to know now what you think, thinking all his efforts should at least leave you guessing. (Sweet summer child. No experience in the ways of love, only ever transactional relationships and it shows.) He's like a cat. Dropping the most vague of hints and hoping it spells out "we're soulmates—trust.".

So when the silence stretches longer than he would have liked(merely a week; for a stranger, he sure does not know how long buildup takes), he finds you.

Under his attempt of playing Apollo, you also play Icarus perfectly. Such versatility—or perhaps duality—you have, perched by the large advertisment of him plastered over the city. In gold and glitter, Ray is adorned in all that glimmers for the one interview he remembers.

The one interview that matters. A show that he so wishes you would bear witness to, and it is the perfect moment right now that he also witnesses you watch it himself. All his luck(should he believe in such a concept) has pooled its chances for today.

Ray made sure you would encounter this interview one way or another. If not from the billboard—though he argues that that alone is a hard feat to ignore—then from magazines. Surely your eyes will drift towards him—an image, at least, coincidentally. Be it in stores you pass by or it being read by a civillian before you.

He is well loved, after all.

(Well, Binary Star is.)

In that interview he calls out to you. In words he knows will stir a reaction from you, no matter how the meaning is twisted it still means something that involves you.

He will have you. The world already knows, and so should you.

--

"I work law enforcement, remember?" are the first reasons he throws at you when he arrives at the café first thing after work.

Work. His job doesn't have set hours like you do(as much as he likes to have some. Would really do him good to just... not be the one the world needs for maybe fourteen hours like everyone else) so it was either he heals up and shows nothing as incentive to you, or—

—His job might as well mean a good thing for him, your lovely face scrunched to focus on bandaging him with what supplies your workplace has. He loves the sight of you so close, your worry doing wonders for his wounds(that he could so easily patch up himself or even heal. Bastard even knows it's not going to get infected or get him to bleed out.)

Sparkling little starlight of his, burning bright even without meaning to. He's meant it when he said he doesn't feel the pain no matter how many times you check.

The antiseptic stings. The blood loss lightens his grip on reality. The presses on marred flesh would make a grown man burst into tears. But he's meant to make up for the days he hasn't visited—damned world needed saving, he's been pulled away from you.

Apollo, needed by devout men and women falling to their doom. Ray's mind roars back that their impending downfall is their own making—humanity always fucks around and finds out(it's the point of history, and yet it spirals and people still call them coincidences. Not like Ray expects them to learn.)

All this trouble, yet the one whose touch he needs is yet too far away. Icarus, still not making use of his wings.

Does he knows his bone and flesh will melt upon leaving his habitat to join Apollo? Ray hopes on Icarus' naivety, then.

If not to be the hero he once wanted to be(symbol of justice—but what is just, anyway? when it turns out to be a hero is but a mere puppet on strings that all circle back to the goddamn government?), then if only he could just be your hero. Can't you let him do that for you(himself, really)?

"Being good at your job doesn't mean you're invincible," You retort in concern. "And even if you were invincible, you'd think you'd at least take care if just for the sake of those that worry over you."

Ray finds you adorable—cute barista cleaning him up instead of cleaning up shop, her main job—but it's within said job that he's reminded you're not alone.

"See, some people would drag that to the hospital than to a café." Your coworker Haley makes their presence known.

"Sorry, Hal. I'll replace the supplies myself." You don't realize that's not the issue, but Ray doesn't want to tell you what is. Seems neither does Haley.

"'s fine. Those were about to expire, anyway." They shrug, words meant to have Ray wince were he an ordinary man.

Luckily for him, he doesn't need to do his version of cleanup on the café. (Lucky for Haley, too. Ray would hate for this charade—scene to end, curtains fall to a close, credits roll—to move if he does clean up starting with Haley. Where would you work, then?)

--

Caffeine could almost replace the blood in his veins with how often Ray drinks coffee. Black, too? No man can handle that frequency without palpitating towards an early grave.

You say so too when you pour him a cup in your tiny apartment, making up for when he carried your groceries home. When he'd worried to hell and back when all he'd seen in those bags were instant foods—let him take care of you. He wants so badly to offer.

"I don't know how you can live with absolutely zero sugar or cream," You murmur against the rim of your own cup. Foam of marshmallow clinging to your lips, only making you even more adorable in Ray's eyes, something he didn't know was even possible.

"Some of us don't actually want diabetes. Shocking, I know." He rolls his eyes. A poor attempt in his eyes to appear uninterested. Surely you and anyone under the sun knows his attraction to you. You're his weakness, as painstaking as it is to admit.

He hopes you are never one day the thing that crutches him. The one thing that he will lose for, and the world will know—

—Binary Star isn't actually the most powerful—you are.

(Apollo to his Icarus.)

[cosmicluka]

i know st patrick’s day is long gone but could you do a part 2 for pinch? like after the case where reader shows spencer her bra (maybe more)

Pinch (pt 2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (Criminal Minds)

Summary: You finally have the chance to prove your Saint Patrick's Day protection weeks after the holiday. Spencer was only slightly more ready than the first time you brought it up (spoiler alert: that's still not a lot)

Genre: Fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: Suggestive, AFAB reader, partial nudity, one? bad word, not proofread

Word Count: 1K

A/N: This is so late... Uni has been horrid lately. I wasn't sure how spicy you wanted, but if you want NSFW, I can do a part 3 to this!

Part 1

It was supposed to be a simple case. The bodies of two women had been found in an open lot almost an hour from headquarters and two more women had been reported missing a few days prior to the discovery of the corpses. In theory, it should not have been difficult. Talk to a few people, gather the evidence, arrest whatever twisted individual responsible, rush through some paperwork, and make it home in time to come up with a new Saint Patrick’s Day tradition with your favorite genius. Preferably one that involved a lot more time and a lot less clothes.

But your green bra didn’t carry enough luck in it. Within the hour, there had been reports of a double homicide just a few miles past the border of North Carolina that matched the M.O. your suspect perfectly, meaning the team had to split up in hopes of finding the one crucial piece of missing information that would bring this case to a close. That left you with Prentiss, Hotch, and Morgan on the jet while Reid stayed behind with J.J, Garcia, and Rossi to work the case where it had all originated. 

You had tried to convince Hotch to let you stay behind, but he was adamant that you go with them, which put you in the one situation that you were trying to avoid like your life depended on it. 

“So,” Prentiss slid into the seat next to you with a grin that promised no good. “You and the genius, huh?” 

“Yeah, I, for one, would love to hear more about that new development that you showed earlier today.” Morgan was quick to butt in from his spot on the couch. You couldn’t trust your tongue not to trip over any words that could come out of your mouth, so you just looked to Hotch to silently plea for his help. “It’s not against any guidelines to fraternize with coworkers, but you should still be careful. Don’t let it affect your work.” That was all he said as he looked away from you to thumb through the file he held. A groan escaped you as Morgan and Prentiss turned their attention back on you, impatiently waiting to respond to their interrogation. If you were the one who found the unsub after you landed, they probably would be going to jail with a few extra bruises than necessary as reprimands for putting you in this situation. 

-

It had been a little over two weeks since that particular suspect was apprehended and the case was closed. Since then, you and Spencer’s schedules just hadn’t cleared up. Case after case hit almost all at the same time, leaving you both exhausted even on the days that you didn’t have to take the jet anywhere. But that didn’t mean that you were waiting patiently and neither was he. It was obvious in the ways that you would let your hand linger on his arm when you walked past him or running your fingers through his hair under the guise of getting it out of his face when you were sure no one was around. It was obvious in the way that he would hover closer than necessary when he leaned over your shoulder to peak at the files you had in front of you or the way that he would sit next to you whenever he could and bump your knee with his. 

The others had noticed as well. It was no secret to you or Spencer when they had started placing bets as to when you two would finally get together. He had found it humorous while you were halfway to convincing yourself to place a bet of your own. Best outcome: you get extra money and a fantastic night with a fantastic man. Worst outcome: you lose some money, but you still get Spencer in your bed. Honestly, what could go wrong? 

You were ready to have Morgan deal you in that afternoon, but the case of the day had been resolved and you were free to leave and rest up before the next case inevitably slid across your desk to whisk you away to some other gory reality. By the time that you had packed all of your things up for the day, Morgan was nowhere to be found. A certain doctor was, however. He stood beside his desk as his slender hands shoved papers into the brown satchel that he always carried as his unruly hair flopped over in his face, making him look disheveled and much more casual than when he had come in the office that morning.

You started walking towards him with your own bag clutched in your hands to try and quell the anxiety that was slowly starting to build as you took in his lean frame. You knew your crush on the man was known to everyone, even him at this point, but that did nothing to stop the nervous onset of nausea that took over your stomach every time you stepped out of your comfort zone. “So, genius,” You had started when you got close enough to him. Spencer paused in his process of packing his things to stare at you with those big, brown eyes that drove you incredibly insane. “You have any plans for the day since we were set free early?” 

He shook his head in response. “No, not unless you count flipping through another book of Leo Tolstoy’s again.” He paused as he shoved the last paper in his bag before closing it and putting all of his attention on you. “Did you, I mean… would you…” He stumbled over his words, suddenly not having the courage to meet your eye. His question had come out in a whisper and if you hadn’t been straining not to miss a single word, you wouldn’t have heard it. 

“Want to get dinner?” You should have felt bad, at least a tiny bit. The way his face grew bright red all the way to the tip of his ears and down his neck should have persuaded you against teasing him. But you wanted to see if you could bring out the same Spencer Reid that had so boldly asked to see you naked in front of your coworkers. “Dinner sounds lovely. After that, we can go back to my place. After all, I did promise to show you my Saint Patrick’s Day protection that I just so happen to be wearing again.” You felt your own face heat up a bit with the way his eyes flitted from your face to your chest as if he could confirm the bra you were wearing through the shirt you had on as his own blush seemed to deepen. 

“Yeah-” His voice broke in a high pitched squeak before he cleared his throat, hand coming up to his collar to pull the offensive fabric away from his neck as he looked away. “I mean, yes. If you’re comfortable with it, that is. I would be fine if you just wanted to get dinner, but if you really want to-” 

“Hey, pretty boy?” His wide eyes snapped to you as the words died on his lips, mouth opening and closing much like a fish. You had to stifle a giggle at how the pet name affected the man in front of you. “Just stop talking. How about we skip dinner and go straight to dessert?” Your gaze landed on the bobbing of Spencer’s adam’s apple as he swallowed nervously at your teasing and you shifted your feet as you became increasingly aware of the heat settling in your stomach.

You reached out for his hand but stopped just before you could make contact. “I know, I know. Shaking hands transfers more pathogens than kissing, but-” He interrupted your own ramble with a trembling voice. “It’ll be pointless to worry about that after tonight.” You nearly choked with the way your heart leapt up to your throat as Spencer met you halfway and grabbed your outstretched hand. His skin was warm and a bit clammy from the nerves, but electricity still shot up from where you were touching through your entire body. As he started walking to the exit, pulling you along with him, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d be able to survive the rest of the night if this was the effect his simple touch had on you. 

-

Despite your teasing, you still ended up at a local diner for quick meal. It had felt like you were a teenager again. You shared nervous glances from over your plates and stole subtle touches as if it was against the rules with giggles each time you made contact. The nerves had visibly melted away from Spencer’s frame as he relaxed in your company again. But not even you could bat away the anxiety coming in waves when Spencer stood in the middle of your living room with his eyes combing every inch of the room except for the space you occupied. You couldn’t believe that you actually had him in your home. After months of pining after the genius and the last few weeks of torture and anticipation, he was so close to your reach. 

“Your walls are blue. Did you know that people with blue rooms are known to be more productive?” 

“I did not know that.” 

“Yeah, color theory actually stems back from the ancient Greeks, Egyptians, and Chinese. All of the colors have an affect that can be used for healing or-”

“What did they say about this color?” You took a deep breath to reassure yourself as you pulled your shirt over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of Spencer who finally turned around to face you right as the clothing hit the ground. You heard his breath hitch in his throat as he struggled and failed to keep his eyes off of your breasts that sat supported in your emerald green bra. You felt lightheaded under his gaze as he wet his lips with his tongue and took a step closer to you. “Well?” You found the courage to quip as you hid your shaking hands behind your back. “I- I don’t…Uh, I don’t know,” Spencer had started with his voice strained, eyes flitting from yours back down to your exposed chest. 

“I honestly don’t give a damn about them right now.” His whispered words were enough to have you abandoning any shame or embarrassment and you grabbed his face between his hands and pulled him closer. You gave him a moment to pull away if he wanted, but he just leaned closer to finally connect you with a passionate kiss. The way one of his hands found its way to your waist while the other tangled itself in your hair surprised you and as he began to guide you back to the open door of your bedroom without ever separating from you, you wondered what other surprises Spencer would show you tonight.

[residentfromnowhere]

| NOTICE |

ModernAu!SanemiShinaguzawaXReader

TW: Language, Angst, Unresolved Issues

Note: Not Proofread

“Love you, babe but sometimes you talk too much”

You pause, smile slowly fading as the words start registering in your head. Continuing he says, “Like at first, I was glad that you finally came out of that phase to where you only spoke a few words but no it’s becoming insufferable!” He says while he and some of his friends laugh more. He glanced at you for a split second before continuing to laugh. Some people in the group glance between the both of you in disbelief while others give him a death stare. All the while you just sit there, silently with your mouth parted.

I’m insufferable? I talk too much? That’s how he’s been thinking of me this whole time?

Your eyes start to water as you run back all the interactions with him and his friends and you can hear your heart slowly breaking. Your throat goes dry with ever second you sit there and listen to him rant about how insufferable and annoying you are. To him, it was just lighthearted jokes but to you, it was the start to you slowly drifting away from and he had no idea.

You and Sanemi have been dating for about two years and you thought that you could finally be yourself with someone and not feel as though you were a burden. Though he could be a total jerk at times, he made you feel safe. Beautiful. Utterly at peace. But after that night at a mutuals get together while on the rooftop sitting on the couch he completely embarrassed you in front of all of your mutual friends, something changed. The person you thought you could rust and thought highly of you actually thought the opposite and the fact he would say such things in the guise of a joke made it worse.

Something in you changed that night while you sat there not saying a word while listening to his mini rant or “jokes”. It was as if the person who you swore to protect and promised after all these years that they finally found their safespace completely stabs them in the heart in front of everyone they knew. You felt betrayed and you also felt like you betrayed yourself by trusting him. He knew how hard you worked to get yourself to open up and genuinely feel whole again so why would he break you that way?

This downward spiral started that night when you both got home. You were radio silent as he continued to talk about how he had an amazing time at the party. He kept looking for you to agree or at least nod but he received nothing. Continuing thinking that maybe you didn’t hear him, he proceeds to ask why you stopped talking. “You know I love your voice, why didn’t you talk?” Didnt you say that I was annoying? That I talked too much? And now you love it?

You pause, not knowing that your face twisted into a mixture of anger and disbelief. You quickly turn around and head to the bedroom, not wanting to cry in front of him. He was a bit tipsy sure but aware enough to know when something was wrong and when he saw your face briefly change, there was no denying that something was up.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He says while following you to the bedroom. Since at this point you completely shut down, he wasn’t getting a peep out of you and this is something you haven’t done in over a year due to thinking he was your safespace. It’s now like you and through a factory reset and can or want to no longer talk.

You are what’s wrong.

You continue to take off your jewelry and then do something you haven’t done since the beginning of the relationship, you take the clothes you picked out for bed and go to the bathroom which snaps Sanemi out of his tipsy state. You used to do this due to the fear of being judged but slowly got comfortable with him to undress in front of him because he always made you feel like your body was the most beautiful thing on this planet. Now though, you wonder if all of that was a lie to shut you up about your body images issues you used to mention to him.

You’re questioning everything up to this point. Every word, every gesture, everything. You slam the door behind you before he could get another word in, leaving him there with a confused. Not leaving the bathroom for the rest of the night while he after a few persistent knocks, gave up and passed out on the bed. He thought that maybe you were just tired and had nothing to say at that moment. But little did he know that the weight of his words will soon be the consequences of his actions.

The next couple of weeks were quiet. Usually, you would happily wake him up in the morning with breakfast in hand and talk about yours and his plans for the day but not once did you do that. Besides the cause “morning” you basically became a ghost. He didn’t notice it at first due to usually spacing out or focusing on other things but around the end of the fourth week, he started noticing.

Your blank stares, short “yes” or “no” answers, the lack of conversations throughout the day and most of all, your voice. The one thing he thought would always be there was your voice. He worked so hard to hear that beautiful voice of yours wether you’re laughing, crying, arguing or just making silly noises and once he got to hear it, it was if he forgot how hard he worked, how much trust he had to earn to hear it. He won’t lie, you would talk his head off at times but never did he ever think you would just stop.

He sat at the kitchen table, wondering what happened or if he did something wrong to make you stop talking. To make you stop everything and then it hit him. Since the party a couple of weeks back, you have completely stopped interacting with him in the ways you used to and that he must have done something stupid in order for you to do so. Suddenly, he hears you unlocking the door to the apartment and he jumps up, shocked that you didn’t call him and that he just now noticed how distant you have been.

I’m a fucking dumbass. How did I just now notice?

Without hesitation, he walks up to you and grabs your shoulders. You look at him in shock, not anticipating what he was going to say next. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He says while watching for a reaction. You stand there and as if your mouth had a mind of its own says “Why? So you can tell everyone how I’m back to being insufferable?” And with that you could see his eyes widen. He scoffed in disbelief. “When did I say-“ before he could finish, you cut him off with a quiet “Forget it” and push by him. He froze in place by the sudden realization of what he said back then. He never meant to hurt you nor make you feel like this but of course he had to say some stupid shit and ruin what little confidence or faith in him you had.

The next hour is a one sided conversation. You silently clearing your things and he pressing you for answers. There were several things that he said that made you want to cry and furthered your desire to leave but the straw that broke the camels back is when he said in a fit of rage over your lack of response says “Actually, I’m glad you finally got the hint and stopped yapping so much. It’s been peaceful since you stopped”.

As soon as it left his mouth, he regretted every single thing he said. Tears started falling down your face and his heart dropped. “Y/N, wait i-“ you grab your bags and push by him, not leaving him any room to say anything else. You feel yourself being tugged backward by your bag. You don’t know what possessed you to do so but when you felt your hand connect with his face and the sound of it echoing across the apartment you once shared with him, but whatever did made you realized that the decision of leaving was the best one. You took one last look before uttering “we are done” and leaving, slamming the door behind you. You didn’t stick around long enough to see him trying to rush out and stop you because by then, you were in your car and long gone. Maybe it was for the best so why are you balling your eyes out, wishing you would have stayed?

[hoedamn-eron]

baby, please - part 21

It's time.

Warnings: Long, (looooong) chapter. Labour (all labour is different for each person!). Hospitals, doctors. Medical jargon again, I researched as much as I could and from what I remember from my own birth experience, but may be inaccurate (I am from the UK, so it will probably be different than the US). A little angsty, but it's fine. Reader calls her friends 'guys' but it's used in a group setting. Not proofread at all, because it was huge, so there will be mistakes. Some swearing. Word count: 5,414 F!Reader, no use of Y/N.

Part 20 ● Series Masterlist ● Part 22

Apologies again that this is 1 whole day late!

You’d been…busy.

You had needed to keep your mind off of Santiago, because if not, you would just sit and cry all day (which made you feel extra pathetic, and you were not pathetic). So you had dived headfirst into finishing decorating, and unpacking, your house, and getting it ready for your babies.

And even though you had taken some paid PTO to get a head start on your maternity leave, you’d found yourself checking your emails (again, just for something to do). You’d somehow managed to get involved in some feedback for the most recent marketing launch, signing off on some final designs and helping out the team with some final bits and pieces.

Your friends (and one surprising day, Emily) have turned up at your house under the guise of helping you out with the house and shower you and your babies with more gifts.

But you know they were there to check on you and make sure you hadn’t had a breakdown.

So yes…you’d been busy. And you should probably start taking it easy, since you’ve started cramping for a few days. Although now they’re starting to hurt.

Jennifer and Dr Montgomery had both said that you were carrying two babies that were very quickly going to run out of room, and with your placenta issue, you were bound to feel aches and pains, so it wasn’t abnormal. Uncomfortable, yes, but not unusual. You just needed to relax, and you will. Eventually, but today wasn’t the day, because your new mirror had just been delivered and you’d roped your friends into helping you lug it up your stairs.

“Why did you get one so big?” Beth asked, huffing as she and Courtney took a break just outside the nursery.

“It was cute,” you say. “And the frame is nice. It adds to the blank wall in my bedroom.”

“It’s not a hanging mirror, is it?” Courtney asked, just as out of breath as Beth.

You shake your head. “No, it’s a standing mirror, it leans.”

“Oh good, I was debating having to call Andy.”

“Do you guys want takeout?” Gabrielle asked, suddenly appearing behind you all. She was looking at her phone, typing away. “I’ve managed to convince Matthew to watch the kids a little longer.”

“Sure,” you reply.

“Let’s just get this mirror in here first,” said Beth, before counting down again for her and Courtney to heave the mirror into your bedroom.

After a few more choice words thrown at each other, and the mirror finally in place in your bedroom (not smashed to smithereens, no matter how many times Beth threatened to demolish it), you all decide on Chinese for takeout. Once the food arrives, you settle at your dining table, dividing the food between the four of you.

You wince again as another twinge in your abdomen causes another wave of pain flows through you. You take a few deep breathes until it passes, and you turn back to your food. Your friends haven’t noticed, their conversation flowing as if nothing had happened.

Until Courtney asked how you were doing.

You shrug, digging around your food. “So-so.”

“Have you heard nothing from him? At all?” Beth asks.

You shake your head, not looking up from pushing your food around with your fork. “Nope. I don’t really think I want to, either.”

There’s a moment of heavy silence before Gabrielle bites her lip, then clears her throat lightly. “I uh…I heard from Ben that he’s leaving for South America in a few days.”

You look up at her, not sure how to feel, or what to say. You settle on an, “Oh.”

“Ben didn’t say where, he was messaging to check up on you, mostly,” Gabrielle says.

You shake your head, suddenly not feeling so hungry. You place your food on the table. “He can do what he wants, he made it perfectly clear what he wanted out of this.”

“I’m sorry this has happened to you,” said Beth, reaching over to give your hand a squeeze.

You give her a sad smile. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” replied Courtney firmly. “It was a shitty thing for him to do to you.”

You give her a small grin. “I mean, yeah, it was a shitty thing, but he’s entitled to his own opinion. I’m not going to force him to do something he doesn’t want to.”

Your friends go quiet at they merely stare at you, mixture of sadness and anger on their faces. You feel a warmth flow through you at your friends. You appreciated them so much, how protective they were of you, how you know that you wouldn’t be truly alone in this, that they were your chosen family, and they were your chosen family for a reason.

“I’ll be fine,” you say, giving Beth’s hand a squeeze back before pulling away. “Really. I’ll be the best mom these babies deserve.”

“And they’ll have the best aunties,” said Gabrielle, giving you a smile.

“She’s right,” said Courtney, pointing at Gabrielle then at yourself, giving you a look.

“We know what you’re like, and we don’t want you to think that you’re bothering us if you ask for help,” said Beth. “Or call us if you just need to have a talk. Or a meltdown. Or anything.”

“And one of us will take you to the hospital next week,” said Courtney firmly. “Don’t you worry about it.”

“And we’ll be there with you when your babies come into the world,” said Gabrielle.

Beth nodded in agreement. You sucked in your lips as you felt the tears flood your eyes, and you nod, looking down. You hear the shuffle of chairs and then you’re suddenly surrounded by a warm hug from your friends, and you grip onto them tightly, the warm feeling of love and companionship continuing to flow through you.

You give a small laugh before pushing them away. “Come on, you guys. You know everything is making me cry nowadays, don’t become another reason.”

They adhere to you eventually, and you continue to eat your takeout together. They offer to help clean up, but you usher them out the door, since it was getting late, and they had to leave you alone at some point. With a few good-natured grumbles, your friends eventually leave, with promises to check up on you again tomorrow. You roll your eyes but wave at them from your front door as they drive away.

You go into your house and close the door behind you, sighing as you lean against it. You stroke your bump, smiling at the swift kick you receive to the palm of your hand. It’s as if they knew exactly where you were. You make your way to your kitchen-dining room, and clear up the takeout containers, putting the leftovers in the fridge. You wash the plates, and when you put the last plate in your draining board, you let out a sharp gasp as another cramp hits you.

You lean against the counter, taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself.

“Okay,” you say after the pain subsides. You rub at your bump, feeling how tense it was. “I hear you. I’ll take it easy. I’ll go to bed.”

You check again that your windows and doors are locked before you turn your lights off and make your way upstairs. You walk into your bedroom and into your en suite bathroom, before washing your face and brushing your teeth. You change into your comfiest pyjamas and settle into your bed, sighing in bliss at the feeling of the fresh sheets you’d placed on that afternoon. You stroke at your bump again, wishing your twins a goodnight, before you turn off the bedside light.

You’re exhausted, and the last week was catching up with you. It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep.

However, you wake up suddenly, groaning in pain, not feeling at all rested. You immediately curl in on yourself, your hands wrapping around your bump as the pain spreads through to your back. You try and breathe through it, but you find yourself gritting your teeth and cursing loudly. You shake your head, tears filling your eyes and threatening to spill over.

You couldn’t ignore the pains now, you needed to go to the hospital. You wait a few moments, the pain calming again as you slowly sit up, trying to gather your thoughts. You take a look at your phone, seeing that it was nearly 4am. You stand, a little wobbly on your feet, and turn on your lamp. You make your way to your bathroom again, throwing some cold water onto your face.

You look at yourself in the mirror as you pat your face dry with a hand towel. You look a little flushed. And...your bump has dropped. It's definitely dropped.

Holy shit. Maybe they weren’t just cramps from overdoing it.

You practically run to your phone as you call the hospital, then asking to be put through to labour and delivery.

“Hi, yes,” you say as a man picks up, and you quickly introduce yourself. “I’m...I’ve been booked in for a C-section next week but...but I think I've started labour.”

You let him know how Dr Montgomery had diagnosed you with placenta previa, and how for the past few days you’d been feeling tightenings, and that the cramps had gotten worse. You were advised to come in as soon as possible. You swallow back the urge to burst into tears as you thank the man over the phone before you hang up. You stare at your phone for a moment, your breathing a little strained as you try to process what was happening.

You might be in labour. Your babies might be here in the next day.

You feel sick. What do you do now? Were you even ready for this?

You mentally slap yourself. It’s a bit too late for that. You have to be ready!

You take a few steadying breaths, before making a note of the time you woke up as you make your way back into the bathroom. You make yourself look somewhat presentable and you go to change into some comfortable, all the while keeping an eye on the time in case another contraction (because they must be contractions) comes along.

You’d already packed your hospital bags in preparation for next week and you thank whatever Gods are looking down on you for having them ready for now.

You call a cab and wait patiently (or impatiently) for it to arrive. You can’t call your friends now, it’s far too early in the morning, and you’ve been relying on them for a while, no matter how many times they tell you that they’re happy to help. You'll update them once you’re in the hospital and settled in.

You go over your things one final time, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything as your Uber turns up. After explaining to your driver, he helps you with your hospital bags as you climb into the car, another contraction (because really, that’s what they are, you have to accept it now) overcomes you. You check the time on your phone as you breathe through it.

Fifteen minutes had passed since your last contraction.

That was a very short amount of time.

You time it as your driver pulls away, making the journey to the hospital. It wasn’t a long contraction, around thirty seconds, so you make a note of it for when you arrived at the hospital (which, by the speed you were going at, won’t take too long – the driver must be scared you’ll give birth in the back of your car).

You make it to the hospital, where the driver very kindly takes you and your bags to check in, where a nurse quickly prompts you into a wheelchair. You thank your driver again before he leaves, fully intending to give him a great tip.

You rattle off your timings for contractions to the nurse pushing your wheelchair, where she said she would make a note of it on your chart for Dr Montgomery. You thanked her, before she brought you to your room, getting you all set up.

After being examined by more doctors, and meeting the labour team, you were informed that it might be best to settle you in for monitoring and have Dr Montgomery talk you through the next steps. You were settled into your room and strapped up to all sorts of machines when Dr Montgomery came in, a clipboard in her hand. She grins at you from your place in the bed. “Couldn’t wait until next week, huh?”

You give a laugh. “Well, I could, but my kids had other ideas.”

“Well, you’re all checked out, and we think it’s best that we move your C-section forward, so we can see if we can organise one for you today. Since you’re not at 37 weeks, your babies may need to stay in the NICU for a few days, but we’ll monitor them, see how they do.” She looks at your chart before glancing around the room. “Santiago not joining us?”

You tense at her question, before awkwardly clearing your throat. “Uh…no. No, he won’t be.” You give a light shrug. “It didn’t work out…for him.”

“Oh,” said Dr Montgomery, before she gives you a sympathetic smile. “Well, these things happen. You won’t be the first single mother to come here, I can assure you.”

You feel a pain in your chest, and your throat close up as tears flood your eyes. You don’t know what to say, so you nod at her.

After she checks over your monitors, she tells you that she’ll go and get you booked in for your C-section as soon as possible, and gives you some drugs to slow down your contractions, in case she couldn’t get you sorted for another day. She gives you some words of encouragement and recommended you try and get some more sleep before she leaves your room.

There was a fat chance of you getting back to sleep after all of this.

You had packed a book that you had had for well over a year that you had every intention to read. There was no time like the present, since most of your time now would be taken up by two newborns.

And you eventually need to tell your friends that you were, in face, in labour.

You grab your phone, sending a quick message to your group chat. They wouldn’t see it until they woke up anyway, and it’s barely 5:30am.

Hey all. Just to let you all know, I’m in the hospital. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine! My C-section may be moved forward for today because the twins decided that it was time to make an appearance.

C: WHAT C: OMG C: WHAT

Your eyes widen as Courtney’s messages come flooding in.

Why are you awake!?

C: THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT C: ARE YOU OKAY? C: I AM SO EXCITED C: DO YOU NEED ME THERE? C: I don’t care what you say I’m coming anyway.

You laugh at her, telling her that she really didn’t need to, but she was already on the way. You send her your room details, before settling down to read your book, reading Courtney’s updates as she sends them over to you. You’re about half an hour into your book when Courtney shows up, bursting into your room, breathless, with her own overnight bag in her hands.

“How fast did you drive?” you ask her, raising an eyebrow at her.

“I slowed down for speed cameras,” she replied. Immediately making her way over to you and checking you over. “How are you? Are you okay? Are you in any pain?”

“They’ve given me some drugs to slow down my labour,” you reply. “Contractions are less painful now, and a little more spaced, so it’s definitely done the job.”

“Have you…have you contacted…”

You give her a look. “No, I haven’t.”

Courtney nods. “And your parents?”

You snort. “Same story.”

She gives another nod, more firm. “Okay. Just you and me then.”

It was nice, to have Courtney around. She took a few selfies with you and sent them into the group chat, and when Beth and Gabrielle finally saw the messages. You were immediately bombarded with questions of your wellbeing, when your C-section was planned for (that was still to be confirmed, but Dr Montgomery had been checking in with you throughout the day and your labour hadn’t progressed much further), and that they could be with you if you needed it.

But you were fine. Your nerves had settled, you were now even excited to meet your babies. Everything was running smoothly, and Dr Montgomery was due back in the hour to let you know if your C-section was happening tonight. You are a warrior, a fighter, and nothing will break your spirit. Whatever the outcome, you know that you will face it with courage and grace, for you are a woman, fierce and resilient, ready to conquer whatever lies ahead.

Courtney had stepped out to call Andy about half an hour ago, and was going to grab some food from the cafeteria. You had almost finished your book when the door to your room opened.

“Did you get lost coming back?” you joked, not looking up from your book.

With no answer, your brow furrows. You look up with the intention of asking Courtney if everything was okay, but your breathing stopped as you looked into the soulful and intense eyes of Santiago Garcia.

You slowly close your book, letting it fall to the bed. You had to be dreaming. You’ve fallen asleep reading your book, there was no way he was here. Not after your conversation last week, where he told you he didn’t want to be a dad, that he had no intention of being involved, how meeting you was practically a mistake.

“Hi,” he says, almost breathlessly.

You don’t know how to respond. Your mouth suddenly feels dry. You're sitting there, in the sterile scent of the hospital room, looking at the reason you’d been so damn miserable this last week. Your heart pounds like a drum against your ribcage, each beat echoing the anticipation that fills the room. Your hands, all of a sudden clammy and trembling, clutch onto the medical standard bed sheets draped over you.

The minutes stretch into eternity as you stare at him, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. Fear and rapid anger grip you like a vice, squeezing your chest with each passing second.

Finally, you ask, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

Santiago holds his hands up in surrender. “I know, I’m an asshole and you probably don’t want me here – “

“Damn right I don’t want you here,” you snap at him, eyes glowering. “I’m in the right mind to call security!”

“I know, I know,” he hurriedly says, taking a step towards the bed. “Just please, please, hear me out for a second.”

“I heard you out last week and you told me – “

“I know what I said last week,” Santiago said quickly, finally lowering his hands. “And…I was an idiot. I am an idiot.”

“How did you even know I was here?” you demanded.

“Benny told me,” Santiago replied.

You don’t ask how Benny knew (because honestly, you had a clue, and you’ll be having some choice words with a certain someone). You merely stare at him before shaking your head at him. “If you’ve come to tell me you’re leaving for South America, I already know, you didn’t – “

“I cancelled it,” he said, giving you an intense stare. “I needed to be here. With you.”

“No, no, you don’t,” you reply, already shaking your head. “I have Courtney, Courtney’s here with me.”

He flinches at your words, the guilt flickering across his features like a shadow. “I couldn't live with the regret of not being there for you, for them,” he says. “Knowing you were going through this...I couldn't stay away. I have to be here.”

You don’t say anything, merely stare at him and let him continue.

“I know I said I didn't want to be involved,” he begins, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "But...I made a mistake. I got scared, scared of messing up, of not being enough for them and for you and I thought…I thought leaving would fix it, but it hasn’t.”

“You’ve realised this now?” you ask him, tears in your eyes. “You…you left me alone, and worried about the future with my kids, and we had an amazing few months together…”

Santiago shakes his head at you, tears in his own eyes. “I’m sorry. I know I can't change the past. But I'm here now, and I want to make things right. I want to be here for you, for our kids.”

You study him for a moment, still gripping the hospital sheets tightly. The tears start to fall as the moments stretch into a long silence, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. You try to push away the thoughts of what could go wrong, but they linger, hovering at the edges of your consciousness like unwanted guests.

“Just because you cancel your trip – “ you cut yourself off, before you finally let out a sob, looking at him. “I don't know if I can forgive you.”

His shoulders deflate as he slowly nods at you. “I understand, corazón, I do, but please...let me be here for you now. Let me make things right. I miss you,” he says.

You open your mouth to reply but you’re interrupted by Courtney, making her way in with a brown paper bag.

“The line was huge at the cafeteria, so I went to Walmart down the street…” she goes quiet as her gaze lands on Santiago, before her jaw sets and her eyes harden. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came to apologise – “

“Yeah, well, she doesn’t need it,” Courtney snaps. “She’s fine. She’s been fine without you, and she can raise these kids herself. She doesn’t need you.”

Santiago turns to look back at you, but you can’t find the words to say. You want to believe him, to let go of the hurt and anger that have consumed you for the past week. But the wounds run deep, carved into the very fabric of your being. You meet his gaze, searching for any trace of sincerity amidst the turmoil of emotions that swirls between you.

He takes your silence as a rejection. He gives a sad sigh before nodding. “Okay. I understand.”

Courtney steps out of the way, motioning to the door.

“I'm sorry,” he whispers to you, his voice barely audible. “I was wrong. I’ll go. But I just want you know that I’ll be there for you, and for them, whenever you need. I’ll come to every doctor’s appointment and every school play, or sports game, and I’ll take them overnight whenever you need. I’ll help out with anything. Okay? I want to be their dad.” he gives you a look of longing and love before he turns to leave.

As you watch him leave your life again, you feel the panic overtake you. Your breathing quickens as you follow him with wide eyes. And in that moment, you realise that despite everything, despite the pain and the hurt, a part of you still longs for the connection you once shared. And your children deserve to have a father, whether you’re together or not. “Wait, wait!”

Santiago pauses, just as he gets to the door and looks back at you, his eyes wide. Even Courtney was looking at you with confusion.

“You can stay,” you say, nodding quickly. “I want you to stay. But we’re going to have a damn long talk after this.”

Santi’s shoulders sag again, this time in relief. He quickly makes his way over to you, and you throw the covers from you and swing your legs over the bed. With a quick order from him to not even think about getting out of the bed, he envelopes you in his arms. You feel a sense of warmth and security envelope you, all that matters is the connection between the two of you.

Your arms wrap around each other, pulling each other in tightly, as if trying to bridge the gap of all the time you've been apart. You can feel his heartbeat against yours, a steady rhythm that reassures you that he is real, he is here. In that moment, all your worries melt away, and you are left with nothing but the simple joy of being together again.

Courtney clears her throat awkwardly, causing the two of you to pull apart. “I can go home, if you need me to.”

“I don’t want you to,” you say. “I have a feeling that Beth and Gabs might show up and I need you to keep them tethered.”

“Good news!” Dr Montgomery called as she walked into the room, faltering slightly before smiling widely at the sight of Santi. “Good to see you, Santiago, I’m glad you could join us. I was just about to let you all know that your C-section will be in an hour.”

Your heart skips a beat as you look at her. “I’m sorry, I think I just blacked out for a second. Did you say an hour?”

She smiles at you again as she nods. “Yes. In one hour, you two will be parents.”

You look at Santi, who was looking at you with an equally nervous look on his face. You bite your lip before smiling and looking back at Dr Montgomery. “Okay. One hour.”

“Santiago, we’ll get you scrubbed up just before you all go in,” said Dr Montgomery, checking your chart and noting your current heart rate and the babies’. “Will you be staying?” she asks Courtney.

You answer before Courtney could get a word in. “Yes, she will be. She might be with some other friends of ours though, in the waiting room.”

“The guys are here, actually, I better tell them to wait up,” said Santi. He looks back to you. “I’ll come back.”

You nod at him as he leaves. Courtney watches him and turns to you as the door clothes. “Are you sure about this?”

You take a breath before sighing. “Yes. I am. If not for me, then for our kids. We don’t have to be together as long as he’s there for them.”

“And if he decides again that he doesn’t want to be their dad?”

You want to snap at her, to tell her to have some faith, but she was right, it might be a possibility. What if he does change his mind when the twins get here, when they’re out in the big wide world, and need all the protection they could get? What if in a few years he does find a girlfriend who wants a family with him, and he prioritises them over your kids?

You shake your head. You can’t think that now. Santi’s a good man. He doesn’t make the same mistake twice. “I trust him.” You say to Courtney.

Courtney gives a sigh before nodding. “Okay. And I trust you.”

You nod before looking back to Dr Montgomery, giving a nervous smile. “So, what now?”

You’re prepped for surgery, Courtney on the phone with Beth as she keeps her and Georgia in the loop. Gabrielle had to stay at home with the kids, but planned to FaceTime when Beth finally made it to the hospital.

“Traffic is horrendous,” Beth snapped down the phone.

You faintly heard Georgia screaming in general at the traffic, causing you to laugh. They had time, it was fine. And Santi was pacing your hospital room, on the phone with one of his sisters. You could hear here reprimanding him about something or other in Spanish, and you grinned in amusement.

In no time at all, you were being wheeled out of your room, Courtney giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek, wishing you good luck, and that she will be in the waiting room with Beth and Georgia (and from what Santi said, Frankie, Benny, and Will too).

You nod at her and give her a teary smile and you and Santi are led into the theatre. You take a deep breath, looking around at the doctors and at Santi, who was already staring at you, giving you a gentle smile. You give him a small laugh. “The scrubs suit you; you should study to be a doctor.”

“Can’t stand for long hours with my bad knees,” he teases back.

You give a small laugh before you turn to look at him. “Dr Mongomery said they might need to go to the NICU for monitoring.”

Santi inhales sharply for a moment before nodding. “Okay. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Do you have an overnight bag?” you ask him, eyes wide with concern. “It’s an hour back home, I don’t want you going back and forth all the time.”

“I do have a bag,” he says, grinning. “I left it in my car.”

You freeze, your eyes widening at you look at him. “In your car?”

“In my car,” he replied, giving you a pointed look. “Went to a dealership this afternoon.”

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked at him. “Really?”

“I still have my truck,” he said, giving a small laugh. “Might give it to Benny. His truck is always breaking down and he relies on Will to take him everywhere.”

You could cry. You were crying. You were ugly sobbing as you laugh at yourself. “Couldn’t truly part with it?”

“At least it’ll be going to good hands,” said Santi as you’re finally brought to your operating room.

Dr Montgomery explains to you the procedure, and the risks it may come with as the other surgeons set up the partition and prep you for surgery. You nod along with Dr Montgomery, and you’re thankful when Santi places his own hand into your shaking one. You grip him tightly as Dr Montgomery smiles at you.

“You’re in good hands. The best hands,” she says, before she disappears to prepare herself.

You take a shaky breath before looking at Santi. He takes a seat and sits by your head as you hear the doctors talk about your epidural. He leans down and starts stroking your hair.

“Everything’ll be okay,” he said, the repetitive movements of his hand soothing you.

You nod at him, trying to calm your thundering heart. You don’t take your eyes from Santi’s as he squeezes your hand, smiling at you. You give him a nervous smile back. Santi lifts your hand to his lips and kisses the back of it, trying to calm your nerves.

You think back to yourself not even a year ago, finding out you were pregnant by a complete stranger, and going through the journey together; through the ups and downs of accepting the pregnancy, and having to rearrange your lives to begin this new chapter, and dealing with the loss scare, and Santi’s uncertainty. You want to tell him how much he means to you, how much you love him, how happy you were that he was here, now.

You open your mouth to tell him, but you’re interrupted by Dr Montgomery.

“Are you ready?” she asks from over the screen.

You pause for a moment, just staring at Santi who gives your hand another reassuring squeeze. You take a deep breath and sigh it out before looking away from him and staring up at the ceiling. You give a nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.”

“Then let’s get started,” Dr Montgomery replies, smiling before disappearing behind the partition.

It was an odd feeling, having the doctors rummage around in you. You tried to focus on anything; the feeling of Santi’s hand in yours, what Dr Montgomery was saying to her team, but the blood rushing in your ears drowned out anything and everything around you. You bite your lip, feeling your chin quiver with unshed tears and your grip on Santi’s hand tightens, threatening to never let go.

Your eyes flutter closed at you concentrate on your breathing…

Until your eyes snap open at the sudden, high-pitched sound of a baby crying fills the room.

Tagged - @khonsulockley, @superficialfeelings, @othersideoftheparadise, @beezusvreeland, @itsmytimetoodream

[dcangel]

hi hi! i saw that u were asking for reqs and prompt 29 rlly had me thinking… imagine you’ve been there for 2 years and are the only girl, and you don’t socialize much, you do your part and keep to yourself so no one knows much abt you. but when thomas shows up, he continues to bug you with questions/bother you including why ur the only girl there. there’s a lot of tension and one night he wonders off in the woods he finds you and one thing leads to another and it happens..!

AHH okay this is sending me to hell bc my mind is going feral just thinking about it and I literally am so excited to write this one. And thank you so much for requesting one <333 (this is my first time writing smut so bear with me)

Idk how to tag these correctly bc I’ve never posted anything but if I’m wrong just correct me: p in v, slight fingering, praising, degrading, dirty talk, mentions of edging, mentions of getting caught, choking kink, slight size kink, slight/moderate pain kink, oral sex!f receiving, a few uses of y/n, nicknames, 2nd person pov. Majorly unedited and not proofread (grammarly told me there were 149 errors but it’s 2:24 in the morning so grammarly can kindly fuck off. hopefully this is bearable to read.)

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

“Don’t muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I’m fucking you.”

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: HALO: A MasterChief Collection: Deception {12}

Master Chief Pablo x Sergeant Reader

Warning: Mild cursing, Plot, Angst, Violence, Slightly unhinged John, Creative Liberties Taken, Non-Canon Material,

Words: 2.8k

Summary: You are part of the mighty SPARTANS as a sergeant and a pretty badass addition to the team at that. Everything is different. You’re different. Master Chief is different and Halsey has taken notice. Under the guise of John needing “assistance” the rules of engagement have changed. Cortana is a part of him now. What does that mean for you and him? Is this the end?

Note I: AND WE ARE BACK!!!!

Note: II Guess who needs more fics? Master Chief!!! I’ve decided to make a Master Chief collection of standalone one-shots. They all can be read separately to understand, but can also be read in sequence. I will put a number on them so anyone who is interested in reading in sequence can, but again not necessary. This might be an acquired taste, but it’s Pablo as Master Chief forever and always around these parts.  Thank you for reading! Enjoy!

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread AT ALL***

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Previous: On Your Six*** | Feel Something | A Night Off | Apex Predators | Truth Be Told | Confess | Unto Dawn*** | Learn Me, Learn You*** | Conceal | Let Me Help**  | Cortana**

-John-

“Who are you loyal to, Cortana?”

It was something he’d asked out of the blue. Something he’d been pondering for a full 2 weeks now. It had been two weeks from hell. Before with the pellet, he didn’t know what he was missing. He didn’t know any better than to know that cold, aloofness with one thought in mind of a better Reach and better future for the human race was no way to live. He didn’t realize he was missing out on so much more, like joy, peace, fear, pleasure, and awe. He didn’t know how beautiful the sunset was before, or how warm the sunrises were. He didn’t understand that fear wasn’t a complete weakness but that it could make you stronger. He didn’t comprehend that having something to lose made him better. He also didn’t know that the touch of a kind hand, the graze of soft lips, and the heat of one body could be so addictive.

Yeah, the two weeks since he’d made the call to stay away from you had been a living hell. He'd lived through many hells before, but this was different. He struggled in ways he’d never before. Now everything wasn’t monotonous. He had to put real thought into every move, every word, every call because every single instinct he had was now rewired for one purpose. You. And that was a major problem. If anyone found out he was different, they’d find out about you and Gods only knew what would happen next.

He'd learned quite a bit more about Halsey and her motives for implanting Cortana in his head. He’d also uncovered more and more memories from his time as a child before he’d come to Reach. He’d thought she was his savior--his friend, but now he saw she may very well be the enemy. When he came face to face with that, the fear that had become a new sensation for him gripped him forcefully. He could handle Halsey himself and for himself, but you were his priority. He didn’t want any harm coming to you and vowed he’d protect you at all costs. Hell, he'd start a war if it meant keeping you safe and with him.

“I don’t understand the question, John. Please clarify.”

“It’s a simple inquiry, Cortana. Who—are—you—loyal—to?”

“Well--,” Cortana began before he cut her off.

“Is it Halsey, the UNSC, or me?”

Cortana didn’t answer immediately, and he wondered what her response would be. Over the last two weeks he’d been spending away from you, he’d been trying to learn more about the AI that was now a part of him. He learned she was always there, always listening, watching, and learning. She’d learned his habits, preferences, and speech patterns in days and had implemented her own ways to connect with him. She’d integrated her AI knowledge with his own synapses to make nominal tasks easier, faster, and better. Halsey had said she was meant to make him better and while he knew that was only half the reason for her creation, she hadn’t lied there.

“I was not aware there was a separation between those three options. Is Halsey not part of the UNSC? Did she not make you using UNSC tech and money? Does that not make you part of the UNSC as well? I am afraid I do not understand your question.”

“You’re being obtuse on purpose.”

That was when she appeared. She stood before him with a neutral expression on her face.

“I know the reason you were implanted inside my head. I know you are a means to an end for Halsey and that end is power and control and I know because you’re far more intelligent than normal humans that you understand that.”

He saw that she did. Halsey had implemented this being with free thought and evolutionary processes.

“I know you’ve been watching everything I do and reporting back to her.”

“John--,” Cortana began.

Again he cut her off. “Don’t insult my intelligence with a lie. It was after all what you were implanted to do.”

“I was joined with you to make you better.”

“And you are making me better but that doesn’t negate your primary objective.”

A long silence stretched as she computed the multiple ways this conversation could go. He knew she thought she was so careful that he hadn’t known when she was lagging with her responses that she was playing informer. He wondered just what she was feeding back to Halsey especially since he’d been so careful. He’d tapped into every innate programming from the pellet he’d lived with since he was a child, given himself over to the robotic existence he’d once lived, he’d even gone as far as to be harder and colder with you than anyone else.

Every instinct in him had to be suppressed in order to put on the show for Cortana so she would report to Halsey that everything was status quo.

“You knew,” Cortana dejectedly stated.

“Of course I knew.”

“And you let me report everything you wanted me to. You let me see what you wanted.”

“And they say AI is the future. If I could deceive you what makes you think Halsey is not as well?”

Cortana looked away and that was his clue that she had her own doubts about Halsey’s true motives and her real objectives with not only him but putting her inside of his head.

“So I ask again. Who are you loyal to?”

“I was created by Dr. Halsey.”

“And she created you with the capacity to know right from wrong. Have you any doubts of her own judgement between right and wrong especially with everything you’ve helped me unlock?”

Cortana’s eyes shifted from his and he saw her wavering.

“Tell you what. I have a way to test her, so the truth comes out.”

“John I cannot go against my creator.”

“Even if that creator has lied and does not have the fate of the human race in mind? She stole me from my family, brought me here and lied about it my entire life.”

“There has to be an explanation,” Cortana objected. “If she were against you once I told her that your pellet was gone she would have altered course and found a way to keep you compliant. She did not.”

Jackpot, he thought. He knew she’d told her that much. He scoffed because although she knew his pellet was gone she hadn’t done anything to him for one reason and one reason alone.

“Because I am the key to the keystones. I am the only path to what could be the greatest weapon in this fight between the races. I am the key to her getting everything she wants—more power and control. If those keystones fall into her hands you know things will be bad.”

Cortana stared at him as she connected the dots.

“Why would she do anything to me when she still needs me?”

Long moments passed in silence until a few minutes had went by.

“What would you have me do?”

“Play along, simple as that.”

Cortana nodded slowly and a plan formulated in his head. He’d learn firsthand just where her loyalties lay soon enough. He wasn’t sure what he’d do if he found they were against him.

~~~~~~~

As he walked into the mess hall he was half dreading it and half looking forward to it. He knew you would be sitting at the usual table between Kai and Miranda with Vannak and Riz on the other side of the table. Normally before the removal of the pellet, he’d sit on the other side of you while Kai was on one. Now that Miranda had taken a liking to interacting with you and Kai his place had been taken. Since his distancing himself from you, he’d skipped meals in the mess. They were too complex. If he wasn’t busy the new rewired instincts took over and he found it easier to give himself away. Tonight he could not resist the need to be near you.

Once he’d gotten his tray he made his way toward the table. It was Miranda who’d seen him first, then Kai and Vannak and Riz.

“Master chief,” Vannak said standing.

“At ease.”

You’d been smiling before his arrival but now the smile had somewhat faded and his heart sunk.

“Your heartrate just elevated Master chief, is everything all right?”

He ignored Cortana’s voice in his head then took a seat across from you. Your eyes dropped back to your tray where you took up your fork and pushed the food around the surface.

“Either you’d been living it up as Halsey’s lapdog or the great Master chief doesn’t need food anymore,” Kai teased.

Unlike him or even you for that matter Kai hadn’t seen a reason to pretend as if she didn’t feel the best she’d ever felt. She didn’t care if her personality seemed drastically different, didn’t care if it looked suspicious for her to be accepting wagers and bets with the other soldiers, or even that her hair had been dyed slightly pink. He envied her. He wished he could be as carefree about it as she had been. With that thought, his eyes slipped back to you.

You were steadily avoiding him. He wondered if this was as hard for you as it was for him. Did you toss and turn at night unable to find a comfortable position because he wasn’t beside you? Did you stare out to space at any given moment thinking about the times you spent together? Did you miss him the way he missed you? Did you crave his presence as he did yours? Did you wander around only to find yourself in front of his door but unable to knock?

“The keystones have been taking up a lot of my time,” he lied.

“Any new revelations there?”

He met Miranda’s curious eyes and shook his head. “Nothing.”

“I’m sure the Covenant is not just sitting around waiting. Why are we?”

Vannak sounded annoyed and he understood. This coming war over these keystones was dangerous and sitting idly by was not a good call.

“I feel like something big is coming,” Miranda began, “Something we may not be prepared for and it makes me wonder who will save us all?”

It was then you raised your head and looked at Miranda.

“Say that again.”

“Uh—who—who will save us all?”

You looked as if you’d seen a Covenant soldier across the mess then your face went blank as if you’d disappeared in a haze of thought.

“Y/N?”

You shook your head then went back to your food. “Who will save us all,” you mumbled under your breath.

He wanted to reach out and touch you, wanted to establish this connection between you that he felt had been severely damaged, but he couldn’t. The anger from that shot through him like an electric shock and he bolted up then stomped out of the mess. He could feel the eyes of those around him trailing where he went. He hated this and was tired of it. The time was now. He had to know who was with him and was against him because he needed you and felt you needed him just as much.

As he stalked to the ship he knew Halsey was currently on, he tried to contain his anger so it wouldn’t interfere with his plan. This stunt could possibly get him court-martialed and decommissioned. He knew it was risky, but he also knew he was the UNSC. He slipped inside and saw Halsey inside flipping through notes and files completely oblivious to his arrival then reached the top of the door, pulled down the compartment, and yanked out the fuse cord which he knew supplied power, and oxygen to the room. He then stabbed a piece of metal tubing into the crack of the door, further preventing the override procedures that Halsey would try to initiate from taking effect.

That was when Cortana appeared.

“What’s going on John?”

“Thought you knew everything.”

She looked impassive so he went on to question her about her knowledge of Roman Quinn, the engineer of the ship he and Halsey were currently on. As she rattled off facts about the man who’d revolutionized the ships that were currently used throughout the UNSC, he went about adjusting parameters in the computers and walls. As Cortana gave a detailed lesson, Halsey called his name asking him time and time again what was happening.

He ignored them both.

“Why did you lock Dr. Halsey in her lab?”

Ignoring her again he dropped a piece of his reasoning. “Quinn knew that no matter how advanced, something could go bad and he built fail-safes into all his designs. All his designs except one. The UV Decontamination system.”

He sealed his fate and initiated the beginning of his game and test as he walked back to the door to where Halsey was panicking.

“John!”

He finished his lesson on Roman Quinn by telling where he failed and how simple it was to not fail. Cortana slowly understood then.

“You’re not going to--.”

He smirked, then went to watch the show. Halsey buzzed around the room, trying her best to initiate an override to all he’d done, but no matter which side of the room she went there was no override. He slowly watched her calm, reserved, genius façade fall. He watched the woman who’d been a mastermind of so many things throughout the years feel the inevitability of consequences. He watched her slowly come to the realization that he saw her—completely and now she was going to see him. He was not to be trifled with nor underestimated.

“Nope,” he said popping the “p” in the word. “I feel great!”

“You can’t do this you’re not thinking clearly. You’re overworked, tired--.”

“You don’t understand what will happen if the systems fail with her in there,” Cortana reasoned.

“Oh, but I do. She will receive a very large dose of radiation,” he said matter of factly as f it didn't matter to him one way or another.

He went closer to the door and explained Quinn’s untimely death and the very bloody aftermath.

“John! Open the door right now!”

He glared at Halsey but was unmoving even face to face with her distress. Halsey looked at Cortana.

“Open the door, Cortana.”

“I can’t,” the AI said.

He scoffed. “Make me.”

Cortana stared at him, and he could tell she was going through the possibilities and their repercussions.

“You’re my fail-safe right?”

“I am not. It’s not true. You have to open it.”

“John please,” Halsey begged as she banged on the door.

“She’s been lying my entire life. You know this. You’ve seen it. You’ve noted her lies and infalicies with her thinking. She put you inside my head to keep me in line because she knew once I found out the whole truth I would no longer be under her control, no longer be her obedient little soilder. She put you in here to control me. So do it!”

His shout echoed throughout the ship.

“I can’t. All I can do is overload your neural pathways and put you in a stasis that is temporary. I can’t make you do anything. I can’t control you, nor would I want to. I understand you are angry at Dr. Halsey and no longer trust her.”

“You understand nothing! Do it!”

“I can’t.”

The numbers on the door decreased rounding down to ten but still he didn’t budge.

“Do it!”

“She will die in seconds. John please!”

Halsey’s screams were louder now as her death drew nearer and nearer. Cortana’s features never wavered.

“I’m sorry for stealing you from your family. I’m sorry for lying to you. I’m sorry for trying to control you your entire life,” Halsey screamed as tears rolled down her cheeks.

He stared her down finally face to face with her lies. She’d finally admitted them. Finally laid those cards out.

“John please.”

The numbers fell to zero and the hiss of the vent in the room began. He had his answers and proof of loyalty. Freeing the door, he allowed it to open then yanked Halsey out in the nick of time before sealing the room again. Halsey lay there panting before she turned over and looked up at him with something he’d never seen from her. Fear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

He clenched his jaw as he stared down at her. This woman was not his friend nor his savior. He knew that now.

“The time for I’m sorries are long gone. They mean nothing to me now.”

With that he walked past her leaving her on the cold steel floor. No doubt Aldon would be along to pick up the pieces. For now, she knew where she stood with him. They were finally both seeing each other as they truly were.

“Who are you loyal to?”

She didn’t appear but she replied. “To you John. I am loyal to you.”

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

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[gr00vyminibus]

BLACK ORCHID

Nomi x black fem

You've been talking to Nomi for some months and really have deep feelings for her but you can't unshake this sense thats she's hiding something. The longer she wants to keep it away from you the bigger she tears your relationship apart. Will she save it or allow you both to fully disconnect from eachother?

Will include: angst, suggestive scenes, stalker activities, this was split into two parts since it was so long all together but thats basically all for this section. Kinda fast paced and proofread

Taglist: @zeezeecave @mybonafidefeelings @masterajoy314 @xenaizogie @blacksapphhicmaddonna @scribblecake

Alsoo!! Happy birthday to my wife <333 a thousand, million, trillion billion kisses!! 😘😘😘

She knows everything about you.

Yet sometimes, you sit and think at night. Slowly giving life to a trecherous fear that you didn't know much about Nomi herself.

She wanted to keep a few things confidential from you and you respected that but the excuses to leave for weeks, even fly over seas, and come back with a blind eye to your suppressed melancholy like nothing happened started to aggrivate you.

She couldn't have missed it, it was often hid lazily behind your polite guise when she greeted your baby. All you could do was worry and painfully ache at the thought of her going again, leaving you to keep reassuring your one year old daughter that nomi had places to be.

Sometimes you would try to pry but the way she effortlessly ushered you into another topic was astounding. Nomi undoubtedly had a shit ton of secrets and you had to confront her about them if she wanted to love and be around you as someone more than a good friend..

"I hope when you get older, you're able to tell me anything." You stroked your daughters small curls as she gnawed on her fist, she garbled incoherent sounds but her doe eyes were glued to you like she was partially listening.

Laosa was your world, your hearts capacity, your biggest reason to breathe everyday. You'd do anything for her well being and if you had to cut some certain people off, so be it.

"Ghhh.. grrrhh.." she flailed her arms and twisted back and forth as you furrowed your brows and held her hips, "What's up, hm?"

"Muh mii.." she looked at the front door and leaned against the back of your thighs while gnawing on her fist again.

"Are you saying mommy?" You smiled, fingers gliding across her stomach as she giggled aloud. Screaming in the midst while she squirmed and you eventually stopped to let laosa lay against your chest as you focused back on your movie.

You knew Laosa wasn't going to nap unless you continued rubbing her back so while you both shared a night alone in your cozy apartment, no disturbments.

A sudden knock had came. In the wee hours of the night.

You snapped your head to the door, feeling an exhausted anger draw out with your deep exhale.

"Who in the world could be at my damn door this late." You looked at your baby and carefully took her in your arms, hand coming over her ear so it could muffle your strides and anything else that could potentially wake her up. You reached the front door and squinted in the peep hole.

Feeling an eminent shock halt everything in your body like a hiccup. Nomi leaned against the wall opposite from your apartment door in a long trenchcoat. Seemingly in deep thought as she remained still and waiting.

Normally she came with a notice and during the daytime but for her to show up like this with nothing but a bag on her person was strange.

"The hell.." you mumbled, but her eyes drifted up from their initial spot on the ground, darting to the very bottom of your apartment door as she momentarily pinched her eyebrows together. Could she hear you?

".... might as well." You sighed and situated laosa on your hip as you went to open the door. Nomi's figure straightened up as the locks began moving and then the door cracked, revealing you.

She smiled faintly, mouth parting to say.

"Hey."

"Hey?" You whispered in confusion as she pushed herself off the wall and approached you just before the threshold.

"Um," she sighed shaking her head. "I should have texted you but my phone got broken during this accident so..." you furrowed your brows.

"What'd you get yourself into now." Your eyes trail up her figure as she chuckled but nothing in the world seemed funny at this moment.

"Car crash actually." You gasped softly, door widening as she glanced at the interior of your home just wanting fall inside for a good night, she returned her tired gaze to you.

"A-are you hurt?"

"Shoulder's a bit sore but I'm fine really." She assured in coaxing deep tone, making you both blend into a silence of distant cars and quiet crickets.

"Well, come in." You turned on your heel and made way for nomi to follow you as she shut the door and remained behind you like a shadow.

Even while you carefully placed laosa in her crib, kissing her on the forehead while tucking her in a blanket that might be tugged off later in the night but for now your baby was safe and warm.

You rubbed her silky young hair and muttered a sweet affirmation into her ear before leaning up and sighing. Nomi took her bag off, eyes not leaving the resting baby girl.

"Can I kiss her goodnight."

Something inside you got effected at how she mumbled that request, almost as if she needed it.

"Yeah, I'm going to head to bed." You walked out of the room and she watched your figure retreat around the corner, afterwards walking to the edge of the crib where laosa's head laid.

Smiling softly at her little beads of hair because it reminded her of her own. She leaned down to laosa and kissed her temple. Just existing in her presence was slowly dominating her fear of being close with the people she loved.

It was scary to hold you at night and realize you were sound asleep while she stayed awake and stared at nothing. Just waiting for something unexpectant, a built in mode of survival engraved into the marrow of her bones.

It was scary to feel a plethora of things just because you smiled at her and treated her like a nice human being. Not knowing that she could change into the complete opposite.

It was scary to surrender. To allow the two most precious things in the world to possess her once idle beating heart.

But although nomi was scared, she wasn't a coward. And she'd die before abandoning the both of you. That was a commitment she agreed with internally.

Eventually she left the room quietly while shutting the door and made her way to your room, the door was cracked but she knocked anyway and when you granted her permission nomi caught you in the midst of sliding into bed.

You were silent tonight. Very concisely worded and it was one of the things on her list that were rated as torture. So as always she asked you how you felt, "are you angry with me?" You sighed and turned on your side with the cover pulled over.

"I have nothing to be angry about."

"But you are." She got comfortable under the covers once she shed off her trechcoat and made her feet bare.

"Am not." The agent completely disregarded your defense and rolled on her stomach just behind you, head looming above your ear.

"If you want to talk we can talk. You're not tired." She stated from the fact that you haven't stopped shaking your leg. Its just the thing you do when your up, but drifting between laziness.

"Nomi." You turned around as she raised her brows and tilted her head.

"Hm?"

Go to sleep. Thats what you should have said but you didn't. She grew unsure of your stretched pause, the rush of blood in her body making her wound ache but she was still as stone. Deep eyes switching between your own.

"What is it, y/n." You contemplated shortly before answering.

"How did you get in that car crash?" She then looked weirdly dull. Eyes wandering from your own to glance at something blankly.

"The person who hit me was a reckless driver. Isn't that the main cause of every car accident?" She slowly fluttered her lashes at you and furrowed her brows.

"Tell me about it?" You rise up against the headboard as she cautiously followed suit.

"Well, I was driving on my way to you actually before someone hit me from the side during a speed chase. The impact caused me to slam into the drivers door."

"And what's the condition on your shoulder?"

Nomi bit her lip and let a sort of silence stretch until she was comfortable responding back, "that's not how my shoulder got messed up."

"... can I see?" She puts a hand infront of you in a halting manner, wordlessly unbuttoning her shirt with one hand.

"I got it. Let me." You offered and she was going to protest but your hands had already gently eased her own off and finished the task, having the shirt ready to be pealed back.

Your fingertips traced the bandage around the upper joint of her limb and gently pressed around, above, near the edge of her right armpit and then finally in the middle. Nomi hissed immediately, discomfort taking her feautures for a moment.

"So its right there, is it a spring, twist, bone out of place?"

"It's... more like a gun shot wound." She shrugged with one shoulder before pulling her shirt back on.

"Who shot you?!" You slightly raised your voice as she closed her eyes and pressed her index finger to her lips. Listening out for laosa's potential cries. Then she reopened them and dragged them from the bedroom door to your face.

"I'll make it short."

"Make it clear." you demanded, a douse of anger that hid in your silence finally jumped into your tone. Nomi sighed.

"The police caught up with the other car, they ended up crashing with me and while I exited my vehicle.. I was blindly shot. That's all that happened, darling." You stared into her eyes, a soft frown etched into your feautures that she didn't appreciate one bit, but she believed she could fix it.

"So.. can we sleep together tonight? I haven't laid with you.." Nomi leaned closer to your body and wrapped her good arm around your waist, connecting your foreheads.

"In weeks." You take a deep breath and crossed your hands in your lap.

"Please?"

"... yeah.." you let go of it tonight, telling the inner voices in your head to shut up about the fact that you may be sensing Nomi isn't telling you the whole truth.

"That's my girl." Your bodies lower back into the bed as she welcomes you on her chest and you try you best to avoid applying more weight to her right shoulder.

Though the next morning, doesn't turn out like you expect.

You hear the television and sounds of cheesy nursery rhymes frolicking throughout the place. And there's a smell in the air, pleasant, delicious yet different from you normally whip up in the kitchen. You inhale with relief.

She's still here.

That old smile of yours started to form on your face as you turned in the pillows. Now you're eased onto your stomach and lying there undisturbed.

But suddenly the door creaked open and seeing as you're awake, you decide to easedrop.

"There. There goes your mommy all knocked out and sleeping sound, try not to wake her up yeah?" Nomi whispered as she bounced your baby girl on her hip and comfortingly let her small hand squeeze her thumb. Her doe eyes were glued to you.

"Satisfied little spy?" Laosa did a sort of wobbly nod as she squirmed on Nomi's hip and held her thumb harder. The woman raised her brows.

"Back in the living room I suppose." Nomi glanced at the lump in the sheets and quietly closed the door as you continued 'sleeping'. A short chuckle left you, fingers coming to wipe your eyes of any residue while you sat up.

Your arms dropped to bed and then flung the covers off so you could go to the bathroom and freshen up. Once you reached the living room you saw Nomi writing on a note pad while multitasking with spoon feeding Laosa.

She squished Nomi's forearm and took the spoon of baby food with a gurgle before softly falling back in the seat.

Nomi underlined a few things with haste and sensed someone approaching, eyes drifting up to the sight of you in your long gown and it made her marvel, "Good morning, Darling."

"Good morning, thanks for feeding laosa" you sighed gently was going sit on seat next to the woman but one of her arms hooked around your waist and eased you onto her lap. You parted your lips to say something and she stared up at you with faux innocence.

"You're welcome. Does that earn me a kiss?"

"Don't know?" Her arm flexed to hold you tighter and you could feel her plump lips pressing into the bare skin of your shoulder blades and neck.

"Stop being stubborn." she rasped in your ear as you shifted on her lap. Instinctively pressing back into her embrace. Nomi raised her hand to turn your chin so she could kiss you, but just as your mouths was centimeters away a wet glob landed on Nomi's temple.

She leaned back as you did aswell and gaped at the orange mess dripping down her face. Nomi shook her head and grabbed a few napkins off the table to wipe her skin. You laughed loudly while she chuckled.

"Not funny."

"Lala doesn't think mimi deserves a kiss?" You cooed at your baby and escaped from nomi to pick her up from the high seat as she giggled.

Nomi sat while looking between the both of your faces as something bright swelled within her heart. The feeling all too familiar.

"Your plate of breakfast is on the counter, I'm going to take a shower" Nomi snapped out of her trance and excused herself with fake irritation.

Once she was out of sight you did reprimand the newborn with a whisper before setting her down somewhere she could play.

The breakfast Nomi made was pretty good, she never failed a dish anyway. It tracked all the way back to the second date at her apartment when nomi cooked for you. She looked hot and whatnot while slinging an oven rag over her shoulder, shaking a pan of frying vegetables, which accentuated the muscles in her arm.

She was picture perfect, you could say.

Very relaxed, knew how to have a good time, never really jealous, made you laugh in any circumstances and she always blew the fuse out of an argument in the best ways. Nomi apologizes.

Which she never does to anyone but you. She isn't touchy either but she craves your cuddles and kisses, especially when you squish her face when you're extra happy.

The only you didn't like was her reluctantance.

Nomi could've been your girlfriend by now but everytime you brought that topic up she just steer the convo.

Solidifying your relationship despite all things you do for eachother was a pretty big step for her, one Nomi needs to grow longer legs for.

And you'd give her countless days that extended to weeks and months. But you'd be insane if you were going to continue being in the 'talking' stage with her after a year.

So the fears began to creep.

Is she playing you? Are you just an excellent hang around? Will Nomi eventually grow bored of you and.. leave?

You slowly chew on your food and make the fork meet your plate, mood soured and spoiled. You just end up wrapping it all up and putting it in the fridge before walking to the bedroom.

-

Your arms are placed behind you as you sit on the bed, waiting. Now you wanted to talk.

After twelve minutes went past the shower finally cut off and there was some shuffling and the close of a cabinet, then the knob twisted and she padded out with a towel around her body.

"You sneak.." Her British accent irked and attracted you at the same time while she approached your drawers.

"Whatever.. " you mumbled, Nomi payed you no mind until she glanced back.

".. Mind if I burrow some clothes?" You shrugged as she turned back and fished out some comfortable clothes. She discarded her towel and unfolded the pair of sweats to pull it over her legs and pulled a t-shirt over her head.

You looked elsewhere the whole time until a presence could be felt dipping into the mattress, a hand took your idle one and interlaced their fingers.

"You're silent again." Nomi searched for an explanation in your body language that your mouth wasn't going to give right away.

"I want to talk this time." You utter.

Nomi nibbles on her lips, "About what, I'm all ears."

"About how I feel," Nomi hummed as she examined you from head to toe.

"Go on?" her lips pinched into a straight line as you were getting ready to respond.

"I want to know more about you." You stood strong yet you felt like dissapearing due to her deep stare.

"Im very private you know that, you also know enough darling, what's the real issue." She furrowed her brows.

"The real issue is.. your enough, isn't my enough. Look, I won't beat around the bush.. you've been keeping me in the dark for a while." You pressed. She scratched her brow slowly and dropped her hand in her lap.

"If that's how you feel-"

"And I do?"  You state, tone defensive. You take your hands back for yourself.

"You make me worried sick? I— I can't keep any tabs on you whatsoever, I don't know what your job profession is, where you dissapear off to, I don't even know your schedule which I always stay considerate of no matter how odd it is.. and how it may be eating into my time." you breathe in deeply.

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you got shot?"

"Y/n-" your hands then jab at your chest.

"As your...... hell I don't even know what am to you at this point but I'm pretty angry at the possibility that you may be keeping some huge secrets from me while I expose my whole life to you?"

"Y/n, you know who you are to me."

"Do I? What's our status, how am I special?"

"You're.. " my love. Nomi didn't think she could say that to you, every time her toungue fell limp and her jaw clenched. She loved you more than you could imagine but knew where admitting to it would get her. She felt unworthy of you. Prohibited and Insecure.

The way she lived glued her to this mindset.

Your shoulders dropped.

"Exactly. I can't bring myself to play pretend the next day when my heart's still sore from you choosing when to come and go. Giving that same explanation of work," you groan, "its like I always make time for you but you don't make enough time for me... I'm doubting if what I'm trying to do is right.." 

"What is that?"

"Trying to gain your trust. Your reassurance. I mean we are getting to know eachother so we can potentially be together... but you obviously haven't felt that close with me yet so you have the obvious option Nomi..."  

"Don't.. don't do that." She glared, you couldn't be insinuating that. And the way her name came out of your mouth wasn't soothing her like usual.

"Then tell me what I should know, from the moment we first met." You lay out your request on the table while Nomi sits deep in thought for a proper response back. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't realize you feeling this way, she always knew.

But the last thing Nomi wanted was for you to leave her for it. She just needed more time, but now the hourglass had finally ran out.

"You want," with a pounding heart.

"trust.. openness? fine. But If I'm speaking from the deepest part of my heart, all I ever did was try to protect you and Laosa."  

"Protect us from what?!"

"Simple answer?"  She placed her palms infront of her as you demanded with a raising brow.

"The simplest." 

"I work with the government."  

"..... Nomi if you're an FBI Agent you could've told me-"  

"Not that type of agent." She frowned, eyes closing momentarily. 

"Then.."  you trailed off. Nomi crossed her arms and fully turned to you, face giving confliction and compromise at the same time. This was it. If she told you, everything would change.

She'd overcome that boulder that layed atop her jurisdiction once and for all. You deserved to know.

"Nomi?"

"I'm the one that.. takes care of the criminals you thankfully haven't heard on the news. People like me handle.. them— i-in advance."

"Oh."

"Listen-" 

"Is that how you got shot?" Stunned silence.

"My." You turned away.

Nomi breathes in deeply. "I'm finally coming clean to you about what I'm hiding and now you're shutting me out? Y/n look at me."

"..I can't..." You're reluctant. But a now cold hand reaches for your arm with gentleness. Light as feather and you let Nomi settle behind you with the fearful thought of a reptile slithering around your skin.

"Darling." But you snap out of it, you have too. Upon this news you feel like everything you've known about her is a lie and all that she is, is her choice of work. An agent. But you know deep down Nomi is more.

"If only you were willing to understand." She rubbed her hands down your arms and held you firmly, feeling your deep trembles.

"I've had to do unspeakable things for this world. I've had to kill." You squeeze your eyes shut while hers bore into the wall ahead.

"Would it alleviate the weight off your shoulders if I told you all of them were really.. really bad people." She put her chin in your neck and pulled you closer than you already were, squeezing, making you slightly breathless.

"A.. life, is a life." You exhaled.

"And what is a justice?" She whispered, hold suddenly loosening. The truth. It filled you with so many emotions that you though you were prepared for but weren't. After all, this was what you wanted.

So now you must make a choice.

"Nomi." You mutter and then swallow. The agent is silent, arms still interlocked around your abdomen. She's torn in her thoughts, remaining clueless about if you'll end things with her or not. Its maddening.

".. Nomi." Your voice wavers and it's painful to consider the thought that leaves your throat sore in guilt.

"You need time." She abruptly pulled away from you and got off the bed, darting her burning eyes to the ground.

"When you've come to a decision... call me." Nomi states as clear she can while gathering her things.

She's gone quick and two times the door gets shut. Mimicking the breaking of your crystal glass heart.

This was best for now.

-

One.

Two.

Three.

Four Days.

A Thursday had never felt so.. empty. Nomi skimmed her cabinets for numerous bottles of dark liquors and sweetly bitter remedies that left her body ablaze right under her skin. She didn't grow tired often, not remembering a proper trip the bed in that span of time.

Maybe a crash on the couch every blue moon. Or a late night ride.. past your complex.

Every blue moon, though.

Nomi knew she could give into her intrusive thoughts and scoop you and laosa up. Proposing a stay at her Mediterranean and remote home while you continued to think. In her passanger seat. As long as you both were in her reach. That's all she wanted.

The agent put her hand on the car door, fingers eerily still on the handle as she pondered on it. She could do it, she really could. Your usually home this hour anyway, probably making fragrances or nurturing your baby on the lap while the TV remained on.

Desperate.

Come on, thats desperate.

Nomi clenched her jaw and brought her hands back on the steering wheel, leaving the premises without hesitation and internally degrading herself on the way. She had to be patient.

Meanwhile you were in the house wondering how to contact her, as if you could send a simple text or call. But what would you say, how would you say it.. in which way would you deliver your sentiment. Should you give it a little more time and think logically rather than your heart taking all the space up in your head.

The organ told you to forgive nomi and continue loving her. To be willing to understand like she wanted. And you truly wanted to but you were scared. Images of her bandaged shoulder and how exhausted she looked with slighty sunken eyes. You couldn't bare to see her so..

Beat.

You sighed and stood up to put laosa to bed again. A sad frown etched into your features while you thought of the woman.

Tonight's dreams had mimicked your pain in distorted ways that made stubborn tears escape through your closed eyes and your heart did its familiar, agonizing turn and twist.

But as always, the sun did its usual appearance and you were still slumped in bed when a buzz from your phone had you stirring in the sheets.

Buzz

"Ugh.." you turned on your side.

Buzz

"Mtch.. shoot." You grumbled and quickly reached for your phone on the nightstand. After rubbing your eyes and blinking the blurriness away you noticed there were text messages, from Nomi.

Mimi💕: I have to report back to work on Monday.

We need to talk soon.

Your face twisted up into an angry pout as your feet kicked in a dramatic toddler fashion. You weren't ready to face her at all, even looking at her blue text bubbles made you feel intimidated. You thought of responding or leaving Nomi on read for a minute to recollect yourself.

You chose the latter.

Today wasn't the best day to talk, you had to be at work by nine and drop laosa off to daycare, along with a ton of other things. You sighed and got out of bed to freshen up and make breakfast.

Throwing some bacon in the oven before you went into the baby room and eased Laosa out of her slumber.

Her little body was putty in your arms as you carried her to restroom and got her ready for the day aswell. She could barely sit up straight when you brought a soft brush along her scalp.

"Lala.." her eyes squinted open to your voice as she slightly perked up and then slumped again.

"Reminds me of when I used to brush her hair after a good old wash day" you mumbled with a smile while fitting a puffy headband on the little girls head. The longer you stared into the mirror and reflected, the more you missed her.

And it was at that moment when your chest began to hurt again that you knew you had to do it. You couldn't delay this talk. So hopefully there could be a slot in time for your discussion.

[weeeeeekly]

ML0802-99 – mark x afab!reader

blurb You work at a sex shop and decide to test one of the new products.

info android sex bot!mark x human!reader, one use of y/n, afab!reader, no reader body shape mention, swearing, sexbot au (is this a thing??)

WARNINGS!!! NSFW, MDNI 18+ blog, mention of vagina, p in v sex, semipublic sex, sex against the wall, kinda rough sex, oral (m receiving), swallowing cum, fingering, praise kink (a weeeeeekly staple), reader & mark are experienced, soft!dom mark & sub!reader I think??, no refractory period because he’s a robot, not aiming for accuracy – aiming for vibes, not proofread/edited just pure free flowing thought

this is FICTION!!!!! everything is made up by me. the stuff written out is not meant to be a representation of the people, places, or ideas mentioned. also, prob not accurate to real life counterparts – idk sex.

wc 1.6k

You love your job.

The job may not pay the best to sustain you for the rest of your life, $20 per hour can only do so much, but the other perks that your boss lets you have been too good to pass up. You get to test out all the new products under the guise of “research for customers”, so you can give top notch customer service when customers ask, “what is the best” or “would work for them”.

What can you say – you take your job seriously.

You know that your friends would be jealous of you. Only if you had friends. Being alone didn’t bother you that much, but as you stare at the massive box in front of you, you couldn’t help but feel the nasty jealousy bubbling up inside.

Your new solution to loneliness! Introducing NEO CUM TECHNOLOGY – 22 different models ready to satisfy and please. Each model has different preprogrammed personalities to appeal to every user.

Each model includes over 1,000 preprogrammed lines from AI technology to allow each NCT model to make facial expressions, talk to the user, and have full body articulation, medical grade platinum silicone, one set of clothes, synthetic hair, and breathing and temperature mimicking mechanisms, all created to make lifelike models.

Jaw dropping to the floor, you gape at the NCT model inside the box. The model was a 5’9 man with black hair with an undercut with white streaks, moles scattered on his face and neck, black eyebrows, dark mauve lips, and dressed in a futuristic outfit of a chrome silver jacket and black pants with black sneakers. This model could’ve fooled you if it walked past you in public, if it wasn’t for the exposed metal skeleton at the back of the right side of the neck and exposed left arm. Nothing you couldn’t cover with a long sleeve turtleneck.

In your hand was the note your boss left you on the register.

Y/N, we got sent a rejected model by accident. Customer service said we could keep it and do whatever we want with it. Thought you might like to test it – could be a friend or something. Let me know if there are any bugs or malfunctions so if not, might get it refurbished to sell.

“Could be a friend.” You scoff as you toss the note back on the counter, turning back to the sexbot.

You open the plastic part of the box as you pick up the instructions and charger, leaning the box against the counter.

INSTRUCTIONS

Model: NEO CUM TECHNOLOGY ML0802-99

Service Code: 007

START turn on by pressing button at nape of neck, allow 5 seconds for model to power up if first time use, battery may need recharging out of box.

CHARGE port at ankle on left leg.

Following instructions, you reach behind the robot to power it on, stepping back as you watch in awe as dark brown eyes safe back at you. The robot steps out of the box and closer to you.

Testing it out, you speak. “Hi?”

“Hello.”

“Are you the primary main user? Please state a name to call you by.”

“Uh, I wouldn’t say I’m going to be the primary user for long, so let’s just use a nickname.” Your eyes dart around the items near you for an idea as your eyes spot the Angel costume in the window display. “Angel. Let’s use Angel.”

The robot extends a hand towards you, cracking a smile. “Nice to meet you, Angel.”

Eyes widening, you go to shake his hand, but the robot surprises you by leaning down kisses the back of your hand. His lips feel shockingly realistic, but you should’ve known since NCT models go for thousands of dollars for just the base.

“Do you have a name?”

“Mark is programmed in my system.”

“Mark, cool.” You nod as you check him out. “So, like, what can you do?”

“My model is able to perform acts of oral on both penises and vaginas, 5 different levels of pace, 7 different vibration patterns, able to perform over 100 positions with full body articulation, and use for up to 6 hours on full charge.”

You bite your pointer finger as your imagination begins to run wild at all the stuff you could try.

“Weird question…”

Mark tilts his head at you.

“Do you have flavored cum?”

He smirks at you, “Wish to find out, Angel?”

You’re on your knees in the stockroom behind the counter as you suck Mark off. It would be naïve to think that he was moaning at how good you are at sucking dick, but he is programmed to reaction to any and every touch with a recorded moan or groan. (You are trying your best to make this the best head you’ve ever given, just for your peace of mind.)

You look up to see Mark’s head leaning against the wall with his eyes shut and moans tumbling past his lips. To your pleasant surprise, his precum tasted like artificial vanilla.

“Angel, I’m close.” Mark moans as his hands grip the back of your head as he begins thrusting into your mouth. You reach a hand down your bottoms and underwear to finger yourself something to relieve yourself from the ache between your legs.

“F-fuck.” His hips stutter after one last thrust that brings your face to his pelvis, cumming down your throat as you take your finger out from inside you. The vanilla taste fills your mouth, so sweet that you could feel a toothache forming.

Mark begins petting the top of your head as you look up at him. “You did such a good job, Angel.”

Beaming at him, you stand up from kneeling on the ground, thankful for the pillow Mark put down for you. He tucks himself back in his briefs and looks at you.

“Hop up on the table I wanna eat you out.”

Well, something’s purring.

You hop up on the table, getting comfy when you hear the bell above the front door begin to jingle.

“Hello?” Some random person calls from outside.

You roll your eyes in annoyance at being disturbed and push Mark’s hands away from your body as you whisper. “Hold on, I have to help a customer.”

Mark grips your shoulders and shakes his head, keeping you in place. Leaning forward, he kisses you with passion.

“Hello! Anyone in there?”

“Seriously, Mark.” You gasp in between kisses. “I have to do my job.”

“You are doing your job.” He leans his forehead against yours as he shoves his hand down your underwear, lightly circling your clit. “You’re assessing my performance.”

All thoughts disappear from your mind at Mark’s fingers working on you. The screeching of the customer wanting to get inside the locked sex shop is drowned out from your moans gradually getting louder. When Mark switches his finger placement as two fingers enter you and his thumb continues circling your clit making your eyes rollback in pleasure.

He leans against your ear as he speeds up finger fucking you. “Need to feel you around me, Angel.”

The sexbot wastes no time removing your tangled underwear and bottom from your legs to replace them with him. His pants quickly come off and he rolls on a condom. Your legs wrap around his lean waist as he easily carries you up off the table and against the wall. Mark holds his cock as he pushes himself into you.

You’re so glad that he’s a robot because the way he begins thrusting into you, slowly fucking you against the wall has ruined you for anyone else. He has to put a hand over your mouth to shush you from exposing your hiding spot.

“I set the pace to level 2 and vibration to level 1. Would you like to change that?”

Mark removes his hand for a minute to let you speak, “S-slowly, holy shit, increase pace to 5, fuck.”

“Noted.”

His hand goes back on your mouth as he adjusts his grip around waist and increases the pace. No toy will ever compare to this. Maybe you could tell your boss that Mark’s model has bugs. Maybe get an employee discount too. You could work for a month straight to afford this if you sparingly spend on actual necessities like gas and groceries.

It would be worth it, especially if get to feel Mark fucking you for the rest of your life.

“The person is no longer detected outside of the door. Should I speed up the pace again?”

You frantically nod your head, and Mark removes his hand to put it back on your waist.

“Fuck me hard, Mark.”

“Okay, Angel.”

He begins slamming his hips into yours as you moan in delight, hitting you in the right spot at a brutal pace that will make you come any second. The shelves on the other side of the wall are shaking with items falling down.

“Cum for me like a good girl, Angel. In 5.” Mark slips a hand back to your clit to send you over the edge.

“4.” Your grip goes from his shoulders to the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his synthetic hair.

“3.” You bring his face to yours to sloppily kiss him.

“2.” He murmurs against your lips.

“1.” The last thrust of his hips makes your toes curl as you cum around his cock. Mark shoots his load in the condom as he stops but continues doing circle 8s on your clit until you cringe away from overstimulation.

“How would you rate my performance?”

“A bajillion out of bajillion. Literally perfect, no notes.”

masterlist | kinktober masterlist

author’s note nct robot line only includes those born in 2004 & up because that’s what i’m comfortable with. Still not writing nct wish (even sfw) rn because I need to get into them first. ANDDDDDD i’m basing this mark off his outfit for studio choom mix & match performance with jisung.

[firerose18991]

He’s The Boy Next Door

Minors DNI

Info: Boy next door! Eren X Innocent! Reader. Eren returning from college for break, Implied smut at the end, possessive, grooming, dark relationship themes, pet name

A/N: I saw someone mention this. He’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing. God i love it when I write spontaneously (not proofread). Made with black readers in mind but all are welcome😚

Wrd cnt:753

Eren had been your next door neighbor for your whole life. He was a couple years older than you and used to pick on you all throughout your elementary and middle school years. Oddly though, the two of you were attached at the hip. Even if he was a brute you were his plaything alone. So come time of your graduation obviously he was expecting you to attend the same college as him so he could keep watch over you (Your parents even suggested such). To everyone else Eren was the sweetest, most responsible kid on the block.

Your father called him “ a real hard worker” and he was the pride of his own father as well. So when you decided to take a gap year to get used to life outside of high school and explore your own interests no one was quite happy. Most of all Eren.

He had made numerous pleas to you the summer leading to his Junior year but you never budged and soon enough it was time for him to head back up to Uni.

You had fun by yourself as almost all your friends had gone off to college as well. You never knew the fall season was so beautiful until you saw it without the numbing guise of cramming for midterms. You explored your small town, chatted with people and often found yourself frequenting a small cafe with a cute barista. When the days were slow you and them would chat until the sun was low and then you’d bid them farewell. More often than not the place was empty as everyone was at work. The season changed rapidly and in no time it was time for thanksgiving. Eren was returning home to be with his family for a week's time.

Once your parents heard he was coming down they invited the whole family over for some dinner and games. You found yourself sitting across from Eren at the dinner table. It wasn’t like you weren’t used to Eren being away for the semester and reconnecting when he came back, but this time the air was tense. He kept a striking gaze on you the whole night, despite keeping up conversation with the folks. When the dinner was over you excuse yourself before the games were brought out, not being able to take any more of him boring into your soul.

Of course he followed you upstairs, of course your parents allowed it. Not only was Eren a “good boy”, but you were an adult now. He pushed the door open right as you were about to shut it behind you.

“Um hey Eren…You need something?”

He just strolled into your room casually, not even replying.

“Listen, I’m a little tired. So can you head back down?” You asked, watching him survey your room.

“How’s the fall treating you (Y/N)” He asked randomly after a while of checking out your room.

“It’s fine. Can you go back down, we'll talk tomorrow.” You were growing more impatient by the second.

“What, all of a sudden you can’t sleep when I’m in the room? We used to share the bed when we were kids.” He plopped down onto your bed and got comfortable spreading himself across most of the surface.

“Besides you’ve been whoring around all season, It can’t be that bad to have me here.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” You snapped in shock.

“My girl ‘s been talking to all the guys in the town, they all got a thing for you, I just assumed you were screwing them.” Eren laughed as you flinched at the crude remark.

“Whatever those losers have to say about me is a lie. I was just being nice.” You felt tears sting at your eyes from the accusations

“Then come be nice to me too.” Eren patted the small area of bed left behind.

You obliged approaching your bed and sitting between him and your nightstand

“You’re such an asshole sometimes.” You felt two tears stream down your cheeks.

“M’sorry baby. I just wanted to make sure you’re still my flower.” Eren pulled your face to his to press a kiss onto your cheek.

“Don’t be too mad with me. It would be alot easier for me to believe you if you were up on campus with me next semester.” He pulled you further onto the bed.

“Eren I don’t like being held down by school, I barely made it out of high school, I’d just waste my parents money.”

Eren hummed in agreement. “How about just staying up there with me in my apartment? My parents think I don’t know they're getting me one to stay in till I graduate. But when they do, you should come with me.”

“Um okay.” You said hesitantly

“That’s my flower.” He pulled you in for a kiss on the lips this time and worked you down onto the bed.

-firerose