#if you've requested something and are wondering where it is

[existence-is-a-pain87]

You guys hear that? It's the sound of my original writing plans flying away because I got an AU idea. Mmmmm I love ADHD.

Oh well, this AU should be pretty cool and I hope you'll like it! This isn't a series I'm gonna be solely focusing on like the Eyes series. If yall wanna see more from this AU sooner rather than later, send in an ask.

To Die is to Live

Yandere!Monster!Forsaken x Reader; Yandere!Monster!Block Tales x Reader

Warnings: Obsession and other general yandere behaviors

Note: This is an AU heavily based on/directly inspired by Homicipher. @allimili 's CRK x Homicipher AU was also an inspiration (your work is so peak btw, never change). It's also gonna get really dark since it's basically a Homicipher AU of Forsaken and Block Tales.

Furthermore, I wanna say that this MC is akin to another alternate version of the Eyes MC. Teehee.

I love experimenting with my writing :D

And don't worry, I'll still fufill requests. I just wanted to write this. Enjoy!

--☆☆☆☆☆--

You didn't know how you got here.

Your memories felt like a jumbled mess, as if your head had been plucked off your body, shaken around like a maraca, and then placed back on your neck with no cares in the world.

Bruises litered your body, and you tasted something metallic in your mouth, as if you had bit your cheek. But you didn't feel any injuries inside your mouth, so you ignored it after spitting out what looked like normal saliva.

You rubbed your eyes, before your vision cleared a bit and you processed... uh.

You could only describe this place as... a mess. Mold stained the walls, cobwebs nestled in each corner, and stains covered the tile floor. This place felt like what you could only describe as a giant indoor mall as you scanned the area, wondering where you were and what was going on.

You searched in your brain, desperate for any hint of knowledge you weild to help you piece together where you were.

Then you recall the rumors online about an alternate world that can trap others within it if they enter a damaged room with no windows when it rains. You never really believed in them despite all the warnings older folk online gave you about them.

But... what if you got there?

You remember someone attacking you and you desperately fighting them off, before stumbling into a random room in the abandoned mall- soon to be torn down- to try to hide after you...

...

...

...

You don't remember what you did to that person. You can guess they beat you pretty badly, though, and you fled to avoid them killing you or worse, judging from all your wounds and how you've never been someone super strong.

You just stand up, looking for any exit and trying to recall all the information you knew about this place.

A lot of people, around your age at least, called the Other World a copy of the Backrooms. But this place, while giant, wasn't infinite. And there had to be a clear way out.

Of course, no one who went in came out according to the stories, but you could always change that.

You opened the only door and peered out, seeing no signs of life as you stared out into what looked like a giant abandoned mall. Like an alternate, larger, and more warped version of what you walked into to get here. But there were other things too, and made this place feel like a giant mashpit of so many different abandoned and damaged places.

You just walked out and wandered around, regretting that all you had on you was a black raincoat and your usual clothes. You didn't even have an umbrella.

You had no weapons in case there was anything dangerous here. And you were injured and had no clue how to fight. If there were any monsters like this was the Backrooms, you're as good as dead.

And being dead doesn't work well with your goal to go home.

Your feet pad across the dusty and dirty ground, and you look around for anything that seems familiar.

Maybe if you found the exit to the mall, that'd be the exit to this world. Maybe then you'd get home.

You weren't sure. You just hoped. And what more could you do?

You looked around as you went, trying to see anything that caught your attention. You noted what looked like green buds with leaves that you occasionally found nestled in an upper corner, but they didn't seem to special so you didn't pay them too much mind.

You did think you saw one close back into a bud when you looked at it, and you swore there was an eye at its center. You just looked away, not wanting to fuck around with the ominous plant things.

Though, after that, you tried to stay out in the open less. Hanging out near the walls and searching more intently for a weapon while hoping nothing showed up to attack you.

Unfortunately, you weren't that lucky.

A thumping sound approaching made you flinch and duck into an abandoned store-like area while peaking out slightly through the window to see whatever is wandering past.

Whatever it was, it looked like a fucked up human. It wore a hardhat that covered the entirely of its upper face, but you saw blood leaking down from the inside of the hat and staining the gray skin on his face. He seemed to be wearing a gray hoodie of sorts, but the blood that stained it made you uncomfortable.

He seemed to be looking around for something (you had no idea if he could see with no visible eyes) and you noted the hammer he held in one of his hands.

You just stayed still, hoping he would leave as you panicked over the fact there were monsters here. You just stayed quiet, not even daring to breathe.

Then his head turned to look over in your direction, then angled to stare directly at you. You didn't move, didn't breathe. Just stared at where his eyes would be while silently praying to whatever god was out there.

Your prayers were ignored.

Immediately, the creature moved, approaching the glass as it stared down at you, before raising its hammer.

You screamed, turned around, and ran through the store, hearing the shattering of glass behind you as you narrowly avoided the shards from hitting you, weaving through bare clothing racks and through aisles as you desperately sped away.

From the thumps you heard, it was following you. You just fled into the backrooms of the store and scurried into a box the moment you got space between you and the monster.

As you hoped your violent shaking wouldn't disturb the box to not give your location away, you felt tears stinging your eyes as you heard the thumps of the monster get closer happened, some unintelligible noises you didn't understand that sounded like it came from between two different beings, before the thumps faded away.

You didn't dare exit the box. Especially when you heard thumps again, these ones sounding different than the original monster's. Then you heard them pause, and the sound of boxes being opened nearby you.

Your breathing hitched as you quickly tried to bury yourself more in the box and hoped the monster would stay away.

Then some thumps got uncomfortably close, and the box you were in opened.

You stared up at this new monster, and screamed again.

--☆☆☆--

Whatever it was, it was definitely not human. Sure, this one had normal skin and was wearing glasses, but from the spider-like mandibles jutting out from the corners of its lips and the pupil-less and iris-less eyes with two smaller eyes above it, you knew this was a monster.

Its hands- with short claws on the end of each finger- rested on the sides of the box, keeping it open, as the monster stared down at you. Its mouth was open very slightly and you could see the fact it seemed to have stubble and was wearing... a burger-like hat. It also seemed to be wearing a blue sweater of sorts.

Then, another pair of near identical arms- separate from the ones holding the box open- reach into the box and pull your panicking and struggling form out. He held you out in front of him and only winced when you punched him in the head. He didn't seem too mad, though.

He just sighed and used his other pair of arms to pin your own to your sides. You squirmed, hoping he wouldn't eat you before,

"hxd xtjh? hxd dwqjavnm?"

You froze at the weird noises that emerged from his mouth, staring at him in confusion.

"...what?"

He stared at you, before speaking again.

"mxwc dwmnabcjwm. hxd bljanm. r fxwc qdac hxd. hxd bjon."

You stared at him blankly, trying to process whatever he was saying.

"hxd dwmnabcjwm vn? wx?"

You just slowly nodded, not understanding a word.

"...r cnjlq." He suddenly said, before using one of his extra limbs to point at himself, "vn." Then he pointed at you, "hxd."

Was he trying to teach you the language? Was he... friendly?

He repeated the words again and gave you an expectant look.

You hesitantly repeated the words, and he nodded and said them with the motions as if he was trying to get it into your head.

...

You decided to call him Mr. Spider, especially considering how his legs were what you could describe as four spider legs.

And god, you were relieved he wasn't eating you. But he wasn't putting you down either.

You hesitate, before motioning him to set you down. He gives you a confused look before... sitting?

You raise an eyebrow and try to pry yourself away, and he seems to finally process you don't want to be held onto and lets you go.

You back away as he stands up, looming over you. God, he's huge.

But as you start to walk away, he follows. His spidery feet tap against the ground as he easily keeps up with you.

You stare at him, face scrunched up in confusion.

"hxdan bljanm. r yaxcnlc. r oxuuxf jwm yaxcnlc." He casually tells you, staying close.

...you aren't fighting the giant spider man unarmed and when he's twice your size. You don't have a deathwish.

Though, Mr. Spider seemed to want to protect you, and you were not going to complain at all about having a giant man spider thing protecting you if anything else here was super dangerous.

...

"hxd" probably meant "you" and "vn" meant either "me" or "I". You weren't sure. All you knew is apparently this world has a whole different language compared to anything you heard.

And how Mr. Spider seemed more than willing to help teach you some of the language when you didn't understand.

You glance up at him, and he looks back at you with lidded eyes. You point at the shattered window, giving him a confused look.

"frwmxf." He notes, squinting a bit, "kaxtnw frwmxf."

...you're guessing "frwmxf" means window. No clue what "kaztnw" means, though.

As you and he went along, you continued pointing at things so he'd state what they are in his language so you'd understand it better.

It honestly was pretty helpful having a surprisingly friendly monster teaching you the language bit by bit. You didn't expect there to be friendly monsters here... at all. But at least there was Mr. Spider.

...

...

...

Loud stomps suddenly echoed through the halls, and you flinch and look around as Mr. Spider's eyes widen. Quickly, he grabs onto you and drags you close to him, and you see...

...

Oh god.

You stare up at whatever just crept out of the darkness. It's huge, looming over Mr. Spider and completely dwarfing you. It's skin was practically a neon red, with giant and demon-like horns sticking out of his forehead. A red hood and cape that matches it's skin color hangs off its body, and it seems to be emitting a glitch or fire effect of sorts, with visible and external ribs and an uncomfortably wide smile.

Black symbols are inscribed on its chest that you can't understand.

It stares directly at you and Mr. Spider, before making an excited noise and darting closer.

You flinch as it crouches down, it's demon-like tail seeming to wag as it speaks. It's black hands press against the walls, similarly-colored claws digging into the concrete, and you realize this thing is very, very powerful.

"mjm! mjm! hxd vjmn oarnwm?" It asks, it's voice loud and echoing, "mxnb oarnwm fjwc cx yujh? r fjwc cx yujh!"

You shake as it leans in close, intently staring at you. Mr. Spider shields you with his arms, before talking back at the new monster so quickly you can't even hear the words said.

A rapid conversation between the two happens, before the monster makes a happy noise and darts off, before making sounds like it's... counting?

Then Mr. Spider suddenly lifts you up and looks around, before placing you up in a gap in the ceiling and motioning you back into the dusty and dark space.

You have no idea what's happening as you creep back, barely able to see what's going on below you as Mr. Spider suddenly runs out of the room.

It's all quiet for a moment, your mind reeling as you try to process what just happened.

Then the red monster bursts back into the room, loudly giggling and toss around and open everything on the floor, as if... searching for something.

...does it think you're playing Hide and Seek with it?

As you see it throw aside a box and rip it open, you realize that if Mr. Spider didn't hide you up here, you'd probably be dead or injured enough you'd wish you were dead.

You shrink back slightly as the monster looks around before running out of the room, giggling.

...it acts a lot like a giant child. Hm...

You'll call it "Red Child".

You hear more sounds, more crashing and thuds, and eventually, you see Red Child excitedly scamper back into the room, and Mr. Spider follows after him, looking a little winded if not... slightly injured.

Red Child resumes searching for you, before Mr. Spider approaches your hiding space and gently pulls you out.

"oxdwm cqnv." He tells Red Child, who immediately perks up and bounds over.

"(You) qrmn fnuu! yujh jpjrw!" He says, trying to grab you. You flinch, and Mr. Spider thankfully pulls you away.

"fjrc. cqnhan fnjt. kn pnwcun. cqnh qdac njbh." Mr. Spider instructs, as Red Child seems disappointed for a moment before nodding and holding you like you were a misbehaving cat.

You sweat slightly as you stare at this giant, demonic monster child, who opens their mouth and shows rows of razor-sharp teeth. "r urtn hxd. (You) oarnwm."

You just frantically nod, not wanting to die.

"mjm! mjm! ljw fn tnny cqnv?" Red Child asks Mr. Spider, shaking you slightly. "cqnh odw! cqnh ldcn! r urtn!"

Mr. Spider just nods. "hnb."

Okay, judging from the nod that is clearly a version of "yes"...

Red Child makes a series of happy noises, shaking you a bit as they excitedly talk. "oarnwm! oarnwm! (You) bcjh qnan! fn yujh!"

...you're so screwed, aren't you?

--☆☆☆--

Being practically carried throughout the Other World by Red Child, who was fucking huge, while Mr. Spider stayed close was a fucking fever dream. And being brought to what you could only describe as someone who took a large closet and set some things up to make what you figured were makeshift beds with other things scattered about.

Being dropped into what was a mess of random clothes, towels, and even some blankets and pillows stunned you too.

Red Child giggles and begins to point around at thing. He starts with where you're sitting, which is the much larger one of the piles of clothes and other things.

"vh knm." Then he points at the smaller pile (which is still pretty big), "mjm knm."

"mjm"... he uses that word to refer to Mr. Spider. You wonder what it means.

Though, "knm" probably means "bed".

Red Child looks around, before his smile twitches, looking like he wants to frown and... can't.

"mjm!" He calls over to Mr. Spider, who looks up from where he was grabbing some things. "oarnwm mxnbw'c qjen (bed)! fn wnnm (bed) oxa oarnwm!"

What does "oarnwm" mean? It clearly refers to you, though. You're so confused.

"fnuu pnc oarnwm (bed). oxxm orabc." Mr. Spider says, picking up what looks like... uh... a bucket?

"dwmnabcxxm!" Red Child chirps out, "(you) cjtn oarnwm?"

"(You) fjwc (me) cjtn oarnwm?"

"(Yes)! cjtn oarnwm! oarnwm ldarxdb! bnn?" Red Child pokes your cheek, accidentally scraping your cheek slightly with his claw. You don't mention it, just staring blankly ahead. Then Red Child leans in close, tilting his head, "(you) fjwc px?"

You nod slightly, hesitant.

"bnn! oarnwm fjxc px!"

Mr. Spider stares at you, his expression calm, before he nods. Then he approaches you and picks you up, and you squirm a bit as you get carried out, Red Child waving at you until you're brought out and set down on the ground.

Are they... trying to keep you as a pet or something? They were talking about a bed for... you?

You glance up at Mr. Spider, who stares down at you before motioning you to follow him. He starts walking, and you stay still until he's a good bit away, and you book it.

So what if he's friendly? If he's trying to keep you as a pet with Red Child, that's a hell no from you.

You speed through the place, hoping your shoes are enough to muffle the sound of you running as you try your best to lose Mr. Spider as you hear him make a sound of confusion and follow after.

And somehow, you manage to do it.

You collapse on the ground, wheezing and shaking as sweat oozes off your brow and tears sting your eyes. But as the thuds fade away, you figure you're safe.

You sit there, processing everything for a long moment before you hear what sounds like digitized laughter.

"Q4Q4Q4Q4Q4Q4!" You look around in a panic, as the voice continues, "U0U. H0DAN VXA3 BL4A3M CQ4W K1AM."

Your eyes then lock with what looks like some kinda fucked up plant nestled in a corner of the wall, this one unfurled with an eye in the center staring right at you as a venus flytrap-like mouth talks.

"H0DA3 BV4UU. C1WH. URCCU3." You think it... snickers? "QXF 4A3 (you) WXC M3JM?"

"...better than you, you bitchless creepy ass plant." You mutter back, grimacing.

"FQ4C?"

"..." You just stand up and back away from the plant.

"(Y0u) BLJANM? P0XM. K3 BLJA3M." The plant tells you, "L4WC FJ1C CX F4CLQ (y0u) MR3. XA L0V3 C0 (me) BX 1 L4W T1UU (you)."

You just flip it off and run for dear life, ignoring the plant's cackles as you go.

Great, sentient plants. What's next? Headless horseman clone?

As you slow down, shaking and wheezing as you cower in an abandoned bathroom, you flinch as you hear a voice. A different and unfamilar voice.

"yvccf."

You look around, and notice something... glowing in the stalls. Something yellow.

You look around frantically and see a crowbar laying on the floor. You immediately grab it, and hold it in front of you with shaking hands as you approach the stall. You shove it open and look around, holding the crowbar above you as you're ready to swing it and...

...

You don't see anything directly in front of you...

"cffb ufne."

You flinch at the voice again and look all around, looking down and seeing the source of the yellow glow. It's a blue jack-o-lantern emitting a yellow glow, with black antlers, that seem to curl into each other like thorn vines, sticking out of it.

Then it talks.

"yvccf."

You scream and drop the crowbar.

--☆☆☆--

Somehow, despite the language barrier, you were convinced to carry around the pumpkin.

You aren't sure how. It's just when you picked up the crowbar and tried to run the pumpkin started talking loudly and quickly until you picked it up and it calmed down.

And now, you're taking it some place as it sort of teaches you the language.

"(Left)." It instructs you, and you go that way, "(forward)."

You now know "left", "right", "forward", "go back", and "no" in this language due to the instructions you kept getting. You just hoped wherever you were going wasn't a death trap.

...at least you still had the crowbar with you.

As you approached a hallway with a blank front door at the end of it, you hesitated as the pumpkin instructed you to go forward.

In the end though, you go forward and open the door with shaky hands, and you hold your breath.

The room you walk into almost bears a resemblance to a living room, with furniture that looked like it used to be display, and a table littered with...

...

Bones. And a headless, giant, robed body sat nearby.

You freeze as the body stands up suddenly, white arms outstretched towards you as you shove the pumpkin into its hands and back up, fumbling with the door in a panic.

"kyreb pfl, bzeu jkirexvi." The pumpkin tells you as it is placed upon the stump of the body's neck. It uses a hand to hold the pumpkin in place as it walks across the room.

A lump on the couch moves, and a large, humanoid shape sits up. Losely draped on its body is a black cloak of sorts, and you see dozens of yellow and white wings sticking out of its body. Its skin is feathery and yellow, and there's messy brown hair on its head.

It turns to look at you, and you don't see its eyes. But it seems to smile as it lets out a laugh-like sound.

"yr! nyf kyzj tlkv jkirexvi?" It says, and it sits up as it seems to stare at you.

You hate how sweaty your palms are as you try to open the door, too scared to turn your back out of fear one of them will attack.

"ufek befn. kyvp yvcg (me)." The pumpkin man says (you're just gonna call him Mr. Pumpkin), and you see him now holding what looks like a needle. "z evvu yvcg kyivruzex evvucv."

"z xfk zk." A new voice says, as another door in this room opens and...

...that monster wearing the hard hat walks in.

It freezes when it notices you, and you two stare with locked eyes (ignoring his lack of eyes) for too long.

You manage to open the door and stumble out.

"nrzk!" The winged one suddenly says, and quickly gets up. Before you know it, you're picked up and carried back into the room by the winged man. "nyp (you) ileezex? pfliv xfeer xvk vrkve flk kyviv."

You quake as the winged man looks at the one in the hard hat, who's helping Mr. Pumpkin stitch the pumpkin on. "nyrk uzu (you) uf kf jtriv kyvd jf sru?"

The one in the hard hat hums, before speaking. "z jrn kyvd svyzeu (window). z kizvu kf xirs kyvd kf drbv jliv kyvp uzuek uzv, jf z sifbv kyv nzeufn. kyvp jtivrdvu reu ire. kyvp jtriv vrjp."

You squirm as you're unceremoniously dumped on the couch, and the winged man (you're calling him Mr. Bird since he looks like a weird bird) looms over you, smiling as it sounds weirdly cheerful. "ufek sv jtrivu, tlkv! ef fev nzcc vrk (you). (You) jrwv."

Tears drip out of your eyes as Mr. Bird pets you on the head. "grk, grk. ef tipzex, (you) jrwv."

Why does this keep happening to you..?

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

"How can you not understand how much I love you?" Harry Castillo

Angry Confessions ❤️‍😠

bio : this story is part of the Angry Confessions series (you can still be a part of it)

requested by : anon thank you!

warnings: self-doubt, low self-esteem, mentioning alcohol, Reader feels insecure

You didn't like these meetings, but you loved him, so you were there for him. However, this feeling wasn't a cure for everything, not for your insecurities and fears that were going through your head every time you looked at these people.

Your dress, although you paid more for it than usual and it looked really good, seemed cheap to you. People spoke in an elegant language, but in many situations you felt like you were an alien trying to communicate with the inhabitants of another planet. It was driving you crazy, and your self-esteem was going down.

“I’m so happy you’re here with me.” Harry brushed his lips against your shoulder and looked at you with affection. “You keep me sane.”

So you hid all your fears and insecurities deep inside yourself, pasted a smile on your face and tried to meet all expectations.

Elegant and expensive restaurants, banquets, dinners with people who earned more than all your coworkers put together. And then you went back to your job – the most normal job in the world, wondering who you were really pretending to be.

He noticed it. Harry Castillo was a really good observer, and most of all, he loved you. That little crack in your gaze, the tension in your muscles, the longer thoughts when you seemed absent-minded, the quieter voice when talking to guests. He felt you were drifting further and further away from him.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

He found you standing alone on the terrace. New York City shone before you in the dark night, and the cool breeze was refreshing after being in the crowded room where the party was taking place. The smile that appeared on your lips was quick, but not very sincere.

"No, of course not. I wanted to get some fresh air,” you replied as he walked over and kissed your temple. “Next time I’ll have to familiarize myself more with the horse races or the stock market results. I didn’t think it was that important.”

“That’s not important at all.” Harry said, brushing a strand of your hair away. “What matters is how you feel.”

You looked down, biting your lip. “I had a tough week at work, but... It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to ruin your evening.”

That smile again, but Harry didn’t fall for it anymore. “Someone said something and it’s making you sad? Please, I can see you’re...”

“I don’t fit in here, Harry.” you quickly cut him off, afraid that if you didn't say it, those words would stay with you forever "I don't fit in here, with these people, in this place. I'm..." you took a deep breath "I'm nothing to these people. My job is a point of entertainment and for most of the conversation with them I have no idea what they're talking about. I feel like a fraud."

Harry frowned. "Sweetheart, to me you're the most interesting person in this room." You rolled your eyes, glistening with tears. "How can you not understand how much I love you?"

"That's not the point, Harry." You shook your head. "I know you love me, but sometimes this... It doesn't change how unreal this place feels." You waved your hand towards the glass doors, from which music and people's laughter came. "If you showed up at my work, how would you feel? We're from different worlds, different social classes and..."

"I love you." he interrupted you with a firm voice "I love you not for where you come from, but for who you are. Your surroundings, your past, everything you've experienced have shaped you and I love that. Yes, I have money, but I still think you're on a much higher level. You're in a higher league, my love, and I'm afraid you'll realize I don't deserve you."

You looked at him as if he was mocking you. "Me? In a higher league? Please... You know I'm just..."

"Real." He finished for you, "Honest. Sensitive. Supportive. Loving. Empathetic. I know a lot of people who only pretend to be like that, and you're the real deal. You ask me how I feel, if I've eaten, if I want a cuddle... God! I thought bringing you here would let me brag about what a great girlfriend I have, but I didn't think I was crossing your boundaries so far. I'm sorry."

A tear rolled down your cheek. "And I'm sorry I'm only telling you now. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted to be right for you."

Harry took your face in his hands, his warm brown eyes quickly finding yours. "You're enough, my love. You're so much more. I love you and I promise I'll do everything I can to never make you feel like that again."

A quiet "Thank you" left your lips. Harry smiled.

"Come on, let's go home. We'll eat that apple pie you made and have some wine. It'll be so much nicer than here."

You smiled. Your fingers wrapped around his tie as you pulled him into a sweet kiss. You felt lighter and calmer with the man who loved you so much by your side.

[bewitched-hours]

I wanted to ask if you could make more of the yandere Noli and 007n7 thing. Something like they got into a fight and they’re all just fighting like children or just anything!

I just love that au ^^

Gonna be honest- I don't think I remember which one you mean but I'll gladly make more of them? I'll just try to come up with something new and hope it works but it'd be great if you could use a link to it if you make a new request so I know what you're looking for because I've done a lot at this point with Noli and 007... And not just one with them as yanderes-

Let's say reader gets She/They?

You've learned not to question your circumstances anymore...

It all started out fine when you agreed to team up with Noli and 007n7. Hell, you were giddy to work with other exploiters and you guys helped cover each other's tracks to hide from admins.

You were quick friends and had your own little base for just you three. A place you were most proud of even though you'd do most of the decorating. They didn't really seem to care much as long as it wasn't an eye sore or one simple colour.

No, you combined all your guys' colours together to make the best decorative palette ever!

You weren't into decorating even half as much as you seemed when you all moved in together at first. But turns out you were actually pretty good at it.

You got comfortable... Perhaps too comfortable...

You were blinded by the bliss of this new life and the comfort of your new home made you ignorant to the fact you were basically isolated.

Sure, you were part of a trio that caused chaos so who would wanna be associated with you but you wouldn't even get so much as a chase with some poor fellow who saw you and could report you. It was almost boring how little fight there was for you but you shrugged it off as bad luck.

Of course you wouldn't know that you were trapped because you flew into the cage first.

You wouldn't know that they intentionally kept you away from prying eyes and planned out where to send you in your chaos to get you away from people subtly. In a way that wouldn't have you suspect a thing.

But you only needed to see the truth once. They needed luck everytime they hid the truth from you.

One slip up was all it took.

One mistakenly placed box was all you needed when you got home after a shopping trip in your disguise.

They weren't home for once and you figured they were off causing chaos somewhere else, only causing slight envy to rise in your chest as you wondered why they couldn't wait for you.

But slamming the door caused a box to lose balance in the messed up pile of packages and you could only groan as the fact you now had documents to pick up and put back.

Except it wasn't documents... It was plans.

Papers that were left in the trash pile that would detail things they've done to keep you to themselves without raising suspicion which made the cogs in your head click together.

They were head over heels for you but in a way that made you cringe just a bit. A messed up part of you wanted to see how far they'd go and before you knew it, you were sat with the plans on a coffee table and curled up on the couch whilst reading through their strategies.

You had to admit, they were smart for playing you like they did but you still felt betrayed and confused.

Why? Did they think it was fun? Did they worry you'd try to run? Maybe they thought you could betray them?

Ugh, the more you questioned it, the more you wanted to find them and just ask. You weren't even that upset over it because of the life they gave you but...

Actually, maybe you were a bit upset. What if they used this life to lure you further in? It wasn't like you regretted being part of this trio...

You were growing drowsy when you heard the click of the lock that made you jump back awake in seconds. They were back and there was no hiding anymore. You had to quickly gather your courage and confront them.

They had been joking around until they turned the corner to see you calmly get up, papers in hand and giving them a cautious look that was even worse than when you had first met them. And even back then you've been cautious because you had no choice but to assume the worst from them.

It made their smiles turn to slight frowns. Only for Noli to start smirking again. Though he didn't say anything.

"I'm not gonna scream. I'm not gonna pretend to really be upset or any of that shit." You started, refusing to act like some movie main character. "But I just want to know why. Why did you need any of these plans and why would I be worth such a hassle???"

Your confusion only seemed to amuse them as they stepped closer. You let them because their plans did mention not letting you be harmed.

"Would you believe us if we said you were divine?" Noli's teasing tone made you cringe at such words but you chuckled lightly. "What? Don't act like you're obsessed now..."

"But we are." 007's firm tone made your gut practically scream.

There was no way this was happening...

Stepping away from them, you dropped the papers and shook your head. "No no no- I'm not about to let my whole life be controlled-" You were chuckling nervously, though a blush crept over your face.

Were you enjoying this? Maybe. But it didn't stop them from teleporting behind you to hold you in a loving embrace that had you more confused than anything.

"You're not being controlled~ We're just making sure to set a fair ground between letting you be so beautifully chaotic and independent and guaranteeing you'll never want to leave." Noli held held you from the front while 007 stopped you from behind.

You were effectively caged between them and the heat building in your face betrayed you. "... So you promise not to tie me up or anything to keep me at home, right...?" You muttered, biting your lip as you mentally cursed yourself out for letting them see you like this.

"How would we be able to see you laugh or smile otherwise?" 7n7's voice was quiet but you felt his head rest on your shoulder.

Great... You were essentially giving in.

"Well... I guess I shouldn't be complaining then... If everyone benefits..." You hesitated to raise your arms but Noli made sure to grab one of your hands for himself when you finally did. The other hand just went to feel 007's hair for a moment.

It was surprisingly soft...

"That's our little harbinger of chaos..." Something about those words felt... Right...

Honestly I feel kinda bad for not knowing what to give you for this one-

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[angelltheninth]

Hi! This is my first time requesting anything ever so I don't even really know how this work- I was wondering if you could do like a part 2 of your Poseidon x reader NSFW fic, with his wounds being healed he would be making due on his promise. Thanks!!

Thank you for requesting! Here's a part 2 where Poseidon is all healed up and ready to... return the favor.

Pairing: Poseidon x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cunnilingus, breath play, sex in the ocean, creampie, teasing, human!Reader

Ko-Fi | Rules | Fandoms and Characters | Commissions

A/N: The breath play part just happened, I wasn't even planning on it.

Poseidon wasn't grumpy that often, or as clingy really. Since he got came back to you, injured and hurt in more ways than once he hasn't been able to get enough of you. As soon as Poseidon got better he urged you to come swimming with him. It was an innocent enough request. Not.

The ocean was his domain after all, he was in charge there but every time you were together there he made sure that the sea was calm, clear, not too cold and not too hot, just enough to provide a pleasant chill from the sun. You've had many dates on the beach as well, but Poseidon never stayed on land for too long.

His watery arm wrapped around your middle as he pulled you into the ocean, a wicked grin on his lips, a matching one gracing yours. "Can't be patient? You're a God, you should have better self control."

"Perhaps so, but I've been on the receiving end of things for a while. Now that I'm fully healed I would like to return the favor. Sound fair?" Poseidon was already disappearing under the surface as your laughed. You saw him smiling at you before he swam closer, his hands spreading your legs. "Such a pretty treasure I found down here." His lips pressed against your clit, warming it up in the cool water, tongue pressing and prodding.

Your hands grabbed at him, fisting into his silky black hair to have something to brace against, something to help you grind against his face better. "This isn't fair. You're not… you're teasing."

He didn't respond, not wanting to move his mouth from you. But as an act of mercy he slipped a finger in, no trouble at all, and let it stay there, massaged by your inner walls. His tongue rolled and circled around your clit, making patterns, going from slow to fast and then slow again, as unpredictable as the ocean itself.

"Not enough. You're not doing enough, I can't… I need… I want your cock. I- ah!" You felt his sharp teeth graze your clit and his hand wrap tighter around you, almost circling around you entirely. You were on the verge of an orgasm, so close, but he didn't fuck you how he knew he needed to. As if that wasn't enough he waited just until you were about to say something and then pulled you under.

For a split second you though you were gonna get a mouthful of water only to taste yourself on your tongue, not the salt of the ocean.

He silenced the gasp you made when he pushed his cock balls deep into you, moving mercilessly in and out. His lips never left yours as he fucked his thick, hard cock in and out of your pussy, his speed not at all slowed by the ocean. You wrapped your arms around his neck and shoulders, wanting him closer, needing him almost as much as you needed air.

But he didn't let you go, he kept fucking you even as your lungs burned, your moans getting higher and higher, faster. Your nails raked across his skin as your pussy clenched around him, sucking him in deeper, barely willing to let him pull out. Poseidon surfaced and pulled back from the kiss just in time to hear you come undone around his cock.

"Your voice is too pretty to be held back, my pretty seashell." He pushed you down on his cock, it twitched and pulsed inside you, coating your insides with his seed, reacting to your moans.. "Missed holding you like this, fucking you like this."

You pulled him closer, lips ghosting over his neck, "I missed this too." You smiled, breathless and content. "The drowning was… new…"

"But good right? Your pussy got so tight when you got desperate. But you know I'd never let you get hurt right?" Poseidon kissed you again and pulled you on top of him as he floated in the surface, the waves rocking you back and forth, almost like a lullaby.

"I know, of course I do. That was exciting." You ran your hands through his wet hair as you smiled at him and relaxed on top of him. "You're rough sometimes, but I know you cherish me. And in turn I worship you, my favorite God." Somewhere in the distance waves crashed against the shore in the rhythm of what you imagined would be Poseidon's heartbeat in that peaceful moment.

[lovejongseob]

hii !! can u write a "idol!reader x jiung"?? u r so talented (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ♡ tysmm

-🍨.

Jiung x Idol Reader

Hiiii again 🍨 !! Awwww thank you so much !! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ Ty for requesting, I hope you enjoy !!

If you're ever having small or casual interactions on camera, Jiung excels at acting professional. He is exceptionally skilled in this, and experiences basically no issues here. While he does wish he didn't have to be so secretive, he knows you both love each other, and personally wouldn't want to do a lot of pda anyway. You aren't too surprised given how engrained media training is, but a small, small part of you is a little shocked at how easily he can somewhat split up his personality. All in all, this is a positive thing given your shared line of work.

If you happen to be in a professional situation where you interact a bit frequently, or need to be more friendly, he's still respectfully reserved, but a little warmer. Jiung is just a tad calculating, and would set up a dynamic where you two are cool in collaboration, but leave no room for shipping among fans. Very good at making crossover episode like atmospheres. It almost feels like someone got isekai'd there, fans don't really see value in romantic pairing, but it's entertaining nonetheless.

Jiung often wishes he could have more time to spend with you. However, he is used to, and respects, the busy schedules, events, touring, meetings, practicing, cameras, and too many things to count at once. He understands you two have to live separate lives to an extent. He loves you a lot in private, and holds those moments close to his heart. He adores you, everything you do, as well as his group and craft, its because of that he separates his work and intimate life so much.

That being said, he doesn't mind an overlap in talking about work. He even more so, is happy when discussing private music and lyrics, art not really made to be released. Jiung wonders a lot about what you're working on, he likes to actually hear it himself. Accidentally inspirational, he can turn the idea of what he thought you would make into a song. Loves hearing your thought process, and emotion behind what you make. Overjoyed when you listen to what he has to say about stuff has been putting effort into. A lot of thoughts he's excited to spill out, but he gets why you might just want to forget about all that for a second.

A lot of playlists based on you, he has has quite the complex, but very organized selection. He has ones with your music, other songs that remind him of you, playlists based on moments and things he loves about you, and even themed ones around specific eras or looks you've had. Jiung also has a playlist of all the covers he has of you, or has found, and a separate of his personal favorites. Would have one to fall asleep to.

Jiung tries to add whimsy and fun into your day with small gestures. Sends you pretty fanart and edits he see's of you, miscellaneous photos, lyrics or book quotes he thinks you'd like, or sometimes diabolical but amusing bursts of texts or images. When he gets time with you, he's trying to make you laugh, or help you relax. Genuinely holds a lot of admiration for your talent and the hard work you put in, he feels honored to be your boyfriend.

Bonus texts:

All found on Pinterest again

thank you sm for requesting again !! i hope you enjoy !! fr though i really hope p1h gets more time for themselves, i absolutely love all their content but fnc needs to give them breaks. always feel like im forgetting something oh my god i cant take it anymore. fuck it we schedule 🙏🙏

[twstedwonders]

hello! i saw u had requests open and that made me really excited as a fellow leona liker :3 truthfully ive never seen anyone post about demiromantic readers let alone their take on it, so:

leona and/or jade reacting to their (gender neutral) partner opening up about being demiromantic and how they've only ever loved one other person when they were very young

im unsure of your request rules, so if this breaks character limit/if you feel like rejecting the request, no hard feelings! i gope this scratches some of ur twst-related writing itch :3

A/N: Hello fellow Leona Lover!! Thanks for your request 💕

I hadn't thought about setting up a request rules section yet, but I'll make sure to start one!

I hope you enjoy reading!

GN!Reader, Established Relationship

Leona and Jade with a S/O who admits they're Demiromantic

Leona Kingscholar

It was likely during one of your many cuddle sessions when you tell him.

You're resting on his chest, listening to and feeling the soft rumbles of his occasional  chuff soaring through the muscled man. He has his fingers ever so lightly grazing your arm, almost absent-mindedly, as you two share stories back and forth.

When you reveal you're demiromantic, and that you've only ever loved one other person, he's almost at a loss for words at first.

You- wonderful, gorgeous, incredible you- found it in your heart to love a lazy lion like him. It still boggles his mind, really. And now you're telling him there was only one other person who has ever had the privilege of holding your love and affection? He really doesn't believe it.

He realizes it may have taken a lot of courage to tell him what you did, and he thanks you sincerely for trusting him enough to tell him.

He has the slightest worrisome thought that his flirty touches would have made you uncomfortable before you two started dating, but he never voices it. This is about you, this is your moment, not his.

If you're worried he'd think of you in any negative light, never. Honestly, none of the boys would. Twisted Wonderland is a world filled with magical beings, where different species of people live together. Gender and sexuality is a huge spectrum, and this is well known, well accepted, and even celebrated!

If you're into wearing and showing off your pride colors, he'll gladly buy you a whole catalog of things with his wealth. He may even start wearing a bracelet showing off your colors, especially at any pride parades/festivals- if you allow him to. He is just so proud of you and your pride. And hey, maybe he'll feel confident enough around you to start wearing his own colors too.

Jade Leech

You may have told him while the both of you were alone in the Monstro Lounge Kitchen. The place was closed, and Jade was testing out different recipes, trying to find the perfect one to add to the menu. You are there to keep him company, pitch in your ideas, and of course, to test out whatever flavorful concoction he cooks up.

The comforting atmosphere and gentle words shared between your encourages you to speak up, telling him that you're demiromantic, and that there's only ever been one other person you had loved.

Honestly, he does feel a little smug knowing you likely experienced some "firsts" with him, the honor was his, truly.

With a small but genuine smile, he thanks you for your trust in him. He's well aware of what others think of him, and yet here you are, his darling pearl, entrusting him with important knowledge about yourself.

There will be really no change to your relationship, things will carry on like usual, until you crack a joke or start wearing something with your pride flag on it. Once you do, prepare for the jokes and playful teasing to commence! The sweet but sly boy was waiting for you to initiate the okay for doing anything. He'll only ever do it in private, not even around Floyd, as he knows this may be something you wish to keep between yourselves.

He may be a little mischievous and make a fun fruity drink based around your pride colors for the lounge. Oh, he does suppose that drink shares those colors, how strange.

And yes, he will be making a terrarium or few inspired with your pride flag colors. No you cannot stop him. yes, you can, all the boys are simps and will do as you wish.

[zombiecleodoodles]

I feel bad bc I understand how tired they must've been, but also this death was so funny. She literally just broke the block under her.

[fairyhaos]

◇ the way you make me feel // choi seungcheol

seungcheol x gn!reader, 2.6k+ words

tags: requested by anon, established relationship, fluff, mild angst, seungcheol is sooo down bad oh lawwd

warnings: pet names, 1 vvv mild curse word ig?? (ass)

notes: any fic where i get to write besotted cheol is a great fic! might be slightly ooc but oh well. who cares. ty anon for this request <3

“I'm going to be very honest, honey… this feels like a sleeping arrangement for a couple that's just had an argument.”

You laugh a little at the mild pout on your boyfriend's face as he stares contemplatively at the bed after you've suggested a rather… interesting sleep method that he's never really heard of before. 

“It's really not,” you assure him. “Other couples do this all the time! And I thought it would be fun to try out too.”

Your boyfriend, Seungcheol, blinks at the bed before looking over at you, mystified. 

“Really? People want to do this?”

“Yes, Cheol.”

“Hm.” Seungcheol frowns. “What did you say this was called again?”

“The Scandinavian Sleep Method,” you say cheerfully, hopping over to the drawers with all the different duvets and duvet covers that you and your boyfriend have collected over the years you've been living together. “Isn't it such a great idea? We sleep in the same bed, but we each have a different duvet so we get better sleep but still get to be next to each other.”

You begin pulling out different duvets, inspecting them and continuing to chatter as you do so. 

“I know how much you love weighted blankets, but you know they're not something I'm a big fan of,” you say. “And you really hate my fluffy covers, for some reason. But if we sleep this way, then both of us can sleep happily without causing disturbance to the other's sleep quality!”

With a flourish, you turn back round to Seungcheol, the offending weighted blanket and fluffy cover in your hands, as if emphasising your point. There's a bright beam on your face, evidently eager to try out this new idea, but Seungcheol? 

He's still looking a bit hesitant. 

Which, understandable. You're introducing a new sleeping arrangement three years after you've been quite happily living together. Anyone would find that weird. 

“If we don't like it, we can switch back,” you assure him. You shrug. “It's just a trend I saw online, Cheol. I thought it would be cool.”

Seungcheol pauses, and then smiles, nodding once. “Fine, fine. Let's try out, then. We'll see if the Scandinavians actually sleep well.”

You cheer, dropping the bedding and skipping across the room to launch yourself into Seungcheol’s arms. He catches you easily, laughing as he does so, amused at how delighted you are by his acceptance. 

“Yes! I love you. Now I get to make the bed all aesthetic with different layered sheets!”

Seungcheol laughs again. “All right, sweetheart. Tell me if you need more sheets to fit in with your vision, okay? I'll buy you whatever you need.”

“Oh my god, suddenly I love you even more.”

───────────── 🗝

Admittedly, Seungcheol does love hearing you say that you, the absolute love of his life, love him (and any self-respecting boyfriend would feel the same), but he's wondering if this entire thing is really, really all that worth it. 

Because, well. 

Seungcheol hates the Scandinavian Sleep Method. 

He harbours no hatred towards the Scandinavians themselves, of course, but their sleep method, for him, well and truly sucks. 

Of course, he can understand why people like it. There are aspects he doesn't mind, too: such as how it's currently way less likely for him to wake up at 4am with a cold ass because you've stolen half the covers from him again. Or how he doesn't have to worry about the fluffy, fuzzy feeling of your sheets pressing creepily soft kisses against his ankles. Or how he can now actually sleep peacefully without finding that he's been suffocated by your weight on his chest because now, you actually sleep on your side of the bed. 

Nevertheless, he hates this. 

Unfortunately, he can't bring himself to say anything about this, because—

“I seriously think my quality of sleep has improved so much,” you say to Seungcheol one Sunday morning, beaming over your cup of coffee as he makes breakfast waffles for you. “The Scandinavians really know what they're talking about, huh?”

And your eyes are bright, sparkling as you say this, so full of life even though it's nine in the morning on a Sunday. 

So Seungcheol smiles back, happy purely because you're happy, even though if you really pressed him, he'd admit that he's not really happy at all. 

“I guess they do,” he says, turning back to the waffles. “Do you want honey with the waffles? Or the new maple syrup I bought you?”

“Ooh, maple syrup, please!”

And then Seungcheol had done all sorts of fancy tricks with the bottle of maple syrup, and you had clapped your hands and laughed, delighted, and Seungcheol felt a little better, the weight of his guilt that he didn't share your opinion beginning to lighten. 

There's no real big reason why he hates this sleeping arrangement. Sure, it stops all your bad sleeping habits, but, truthfully, he… misses all those things. 

He misses waking up to you all huddled up in the blankets, looking all small and adorable whilst swathed in the thick fabric. He misses cuddling you close and entangling his legs with yours in order to escape from the weird fluffy texture of your sheets. He misses feeling the comforting weight of you asleep against his chest, warm and secure like the physical manifestation of his soul, safely tucked against his side. 

Now, you simply smile at him, face shiny and soft from your skincare routine, and give him a peck on the cheek goodnight before snuggling under your duvet, away from him, in your own little bubble of comfort. 

Without him. 

It makes him feel like an abandoned dog left in the rain outside of his owner's home. 

Excuse him for being dramatic, but he's literally slept with you curled up in his arms for a very, very long time now. And these days, now that you're no longer with him and are miles away on the other half of the bed, he can't fall asleep by himself. 

Withdrawal symptoms from cuddling must be a thing, because he's going through them right now. 

“Just talk about how you feel, then,” is what any sane person would say about this matter, which is very good, very sound, advice. 

However, it's also what Joshua says to Seungcheol when he complains to him about the new sleeping arrangement, and everyone knows Joshua is the least sane person in existence, so Seungcheol decides to ignore his advice. 

Joshua rolls his eyes, used to but not pleased by Seungcheol's stubbornness. 

“You're being silly,” he says, when Seungcheol vetoes his suggestion. “This is obviously impacting your sleep quality in a negative way, which is the exact opposite of what Y/N was hoping for.”

“But Y/N seems to be sleeping better,” Seungcheol argues. He rubs his eyes, and the world spins a little as he does so. “So I probably shouldn't say anything, right?”

“No, you should say something,” Joshua says firmly. “What do you think Y/N will do when it becomes obvious that this new arrangement is actively harming you, and yet you didn't say anything? Hell, if I found out my boyfriend wasn't telling me that kind of stuff, I'd get really mad.”

Seungcheol frowns. “What? Why?”

“Because you're my boyfriend?” Joshua says. “Uh—not actually mine, obviously. But that's how Y/N would feel. You need to communicate your feelings. That's what couples do.”

Joshua takes a sip of his tea, spinning around in Seungcheol's desk chair in his study whilst Seungcheol, the owner of the chair, is currently exiled to the small wooden stool beside it. 

“Just think about how you'd feel if you were in Y/N's shoes. How would you feel if your partner wasn't telling you that they're sleeping badly and feeling increasingly more terrible throughout the weeks because of something that could be easily fixed by them talking it out with you?”

And oh, now Seungcheol understands. Now it makes more sense. He'd want you to communicate your feelings immediately. 

Joshua must see the revelation on Seungcheol's face, because he snorts smugly. “I knew you'd get there in the end.”

“Shut up,” Seungcheol grumbles, and Joshua mocks him for how ridiculously macho-man he was being before. “I'll talk to Y/N about this tonight.”

“Well done,” Joshua says amusedly, spinning around in Seungcheol's chair so fast that its joints, even as expensive and well-oiled as they are, begin to groan in surprise. “I'm so proud of you.” 

 “Shut up,” Seungcheol says again, and Joshua laughs. “And get off my chair.”

“Hmph! You're so mean. I bought this chair for you, you know.”

“No, you didn't.”

“No, I didn't. But you believed me for a second, didn't you?”

“Definitely not. Now get out of my house before Y/N gets home.”

───────────── 🗝

It's one of those very, very rare days where you finish work later than Seungcheol, and so when you unlock the front door and finally make it inside, you're more than ready to just fall into your boyfriend's arms. 

Except, the entire ground floor of your house is dark when you get home.

“Where is he?” you say to yourself, mystified. “Cheol? Where are you?”

“In our room!” he calls back from upstairs, and you take off your coat and shoes, dumping your bag by the doorway and bounding up the stairs two at a time to get to your boyfriend. 

“Seungcheol! Why were the hallway lights off? Have you eaten dinner yet? What's— wait, what are you doing?”

In the middle of your bed, right over where the two halves of your bedding meet, Seungcheol is sprawled out in an upside down starfish shape, staring up at you balefully as you walk into the room, and you laugh a little at the state your boyfriend is in. 

“Hello,” you say amusedly. “You look like you're sulking.”

Seungcheol just continues to blink up at you like a displeased cat. 

You laugh again, bending down and kissing him on the forehead. “Definitely sulking, I see. What's wrong, baby? What happened?”

There's a long moment where Seungcheol doesn't say anything, and you continue to smile down at him, petting his hair fondly. And then, he frowns, and speaks. 

“What do you think of our bed?”

You look over at the head of the bed, scanning it briefly. “I think it looks fine.”

It's apparently the wrong thing to say, because Seungcheol frowns harder. 

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I don't like it,” Seungcheol says, and sits up, turning around to face you. “I don't like this sleeping arrangement.”

You tilt your head. “Oh? I thought you didn't mind the Scandinavian Sleep Method.”

Seungcheol sighs. “I lied,” he admits. “I actually hate it so much. It's the worst thing in the entire world.”

Your face softens in worry, feeling something thick and bitter rising to your throat at the idea that you've been forcing Seungcheol to go through with something he hates. 

“I'm sorry,” you say sincerely, sitting down beside him on the bed. “I didn't realise. You should've said something, Cheol. I would've changed back in an instant.”

Seungcheol, for how big and manly and good at acting as your guard dog he is, still always melts under your touch, and the moment you wrap your arms around his neck, he softens into your embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“Would you really?” he asks, muffled into your blazer, and you belatedly realise that you're still in your work clothes. You haven't even washed your hands. 

“Of course I would,” you say in your best don't be silly voice. “I don't want you to be feeling bad.”

His hands wrap around your waist, warm and comforting and he pulls you in closer, hugging you even tighter. 

“Sorry,” he says. “I feel like I'm being stupid. This isn't even anything big. It just… makes me feel really terrible, and I don't know why.”

“Hey, that's totally okay,” you say placatingly, threading your fingers through his hair and patting him consolingly on the back. “I told you we didn't have to carry on with this, baby. I said we could switch back whenever we wanted to.”

He squeezes you tighter, arms wrapping more securely around you. “I still feel bad. You liked this sleeping method.”

You laugh softly, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Yes, but not as much as I like you.”

If possible, he seems to melt even further into you at those words, and you smile, adoring how clearly he adores you. 

“Come on, sweetheart,” you say affectionately, kissing Seungcheol's ear before untangling yourself from his embrace. “Let's start remaking the bed then, hm?”

You pull away from his arms, and Seungcheol is staring at you with big eyes, irises all melty soft. And then he nods, smiling slightly, looking like a pleased puppy as he gets off the bed and begins helping you take the covers off the duvets. 

───────────── 🗝

It's unusual for Seungcheol to be so shy like this—normally, he's the one telling you to be more outspoken, more confident, so it's a nice change. You quite like being able to reassure him, gently tell him what to do, praise him and shower him with love in the way that he always does with you. 

“So why did you hate the Scandinavian Sleep Method?” you ask him a bit later as the two of you sit in front of the washing machine, watching it spin your bedding round and round. Seungcheol had insisted that you wash all of it right away, because otherwise the two of you were bound to put it off for a whole month. 

Your boyfriend shrugs. He watches the bedding get spun in circles again and again and again. 

And then, he finally looks at you, clad in your classic two-piece cotton pyjamas, hair all a mess, your face softened and natural now that you've washed up for the night, all ready to go to bed. 

You look so pretty like this, so open and comforting and god, Seungcheol had missed you. 

Even though he sees you every day. But that's whatever. He's missed being this close with you at night, in this kind of domestic setting, where it's just the two of you pressed close together in your house as the rest of the world sleeps. 

“That sleeping arrangement…” he begins quietly, and you look up. 

“Hm?”

Seungcheol holds your gaze very seriously as he continues. “It didn't let me hug you.”

You blink. “What?”

“It didn't let me hug you,” he repeats, as serious as ever, and you want to laugh in fondness because it really is that serious for him. “I couldn't cuddle you to sleep. I hated that.”

“Oh,” you say, positively melting away at his reason, so unbelievably in love with him that your heart is goo in your chest. “That's so sweet, Cheol, oh my god.”

You lean over and pinch his cheek, cooing over him, and he bats your hand away with a groan, smiling. 

“Go away,” he grumbles, but it's so full of warmth that the words carry no weight whatsoever.

“But then you can't cuddle me in your sleep,” you say, pouting exaggeratedly. “Unless… you don't wanna cuddle me any more?” 

You gasp dramatically, leaning away from him for full effect, and then yelp when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his side, preventing you from moving away. 

“Don't say silly things like that,” he reprimands teasingly, laughter tinging the ends of his words. He kisses your shoulder. “Of course I want to cuddle you. It's the only thing I'll be doing every night from now on.”

“That's awfully cheesy,” you point out. “Sap.”

“It's all your fault.”

“Huh, I suppose it is,” you say proudly, snuggling into your boyfriend. “Glad to know I have such an effect on you.”

Seungcheol sighs, fond, and kisses your shoulder once again. “Oh, if only you knew.”

fics tags: @jeonginssa  @weird-bookworm  @minhui896  @slytherinshua  @haowrld  @belladaises  @moonlitskiiies  @mirxzii  @zozojella  @kawennote09  @a-wandering-stay  @abibliolife  @wonranghaeee  @icyminghao  @sweet-like-caramel  @your-yxnnie  @odxrilove  @kyeomyun  @crackedpumpkin  @kellesvt  @eightlightstar  @onlyyjeonghan  @aaniag  @starshuas  @raevyng  @isabellah29  @hrts4hanniehae  @mcu-incorrect  @dokyeomkyeom  @suraandsugar  @tulsa24  @melodicrabbit  @dokyeomkyeom  @hopeless-foolery @aaa-sia

[himasgod]

Where you are an artist

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

How would the housewards react if they realized that the person they love can't stop sketching and drawing about them…

leona, riddle, azul, kalim, vil, idia and malleus.

I lost the original request message, so I had to take a screenshot, sorry :(, I hope you like it!

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, when Riddle discovers your notebook full of his sketches, he doesn't know what to think. He's embarrassed to the core, but also… something warm ignites in his chest.

He's aware that he's the center of attention in Heartslabyul, but he never imagined that you, of all people, would focus on him so much.

When he looks through the drawings, he realizes you've captured moments no one else would: his calm expression when he reads, the way he elegantly holds his teacup, the sparkle in his eyes when he gives an order with conviction.

"Why do you draw me so much?"

He asks with a mixture of disbelief and shyness, unable to look at you directly.

If you tell him that you simply like to draw what you consider beautiful, Riddle falls completely silent.

His ears turn red, and he presses his lips together in a failed attempt to hide his emotion.

From that day on, he begins to notice you more.

He wonders if you're observing him at that moment, if you're storing his gestures in your memory to later capture them on paper.

And when, on a quiet afternoon, he works up the courage to ask you if you can take a formal portrait of him, you realize there's more to his gaze than simple curiosity.

There's a desire to be seen by you, always.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona quickly notices your habit of drawing him.

At first, he pretends not to care, but in reality, every time he notices he's your recurring model, his ego inflates a little more.

When he finally glances at your sketches, his expression is unreadable. It's not just that you draw him a lot, it's the way you draw him.

His features look relaxed, even serene in some illustrations. Is that how you see him?

"Tch. Why do you keep staring at me so much?"

He asks with a crooked smile, eyeing you with interest.

If you dare tell him you like the way he looks, or that you enjoy capturing his essence, Leona leans dangerously close to you.

"If you love drawing me so much, you should do it in person." "You could sit next to me while I sleep. It saves me the trouble of you spying on me."

It's his way of telling you that he doesn't mind you watching him, that somehow, he enjoys being the center of your attention.

Since then, every time he sees you drawing, he throws out comments like

"Make sure you capture my best angle." "If you do a portrait of me, I want it in my room"

He doesn't say it outright, but he loves the fact that you only have eyes for him.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a businessman. He knows that his image is crucial, that people look at him with admiration or distrust.

But when he sees your drawings, he's speechless. It's not the calculated image he always projects; it's him, at his most natural.

In your sketches, you captured him smiling contentedly after a successful deal, losing himself in thought while reading, taking off his glasses with a tired sigh.

"This… is quite unexpected"

If you confess that you simply enjoy drawing him because you like the way he looks, Azul covers his mouth with his hand to hide the trembling of his lips.

"Ah… I see. How interesting."

But he can't stop thinking about it. You look at him in a way no one else has.

One day, without warning, he approaches you and places a cup of tea beside you.

"If you're going to draw me… do it now. I want to see how you do it."

It's not a demand. It's his way of asking you to keep looking at him, to keep your gaze on him.

Kalim Al-Asim

When Kalim discovers you've been filling pages with his drawings, he nearly collapses with excitement.

He doesn't understand why you would want to hide it; to him, this is wonderful.

"Wait, wait! Does that mean you look at me a lot? That's adorable!"

Unlike the other housewardens, he doesn't try to hide his happiness. On the contrary, he shows it with all his might.

"This makes me so happy! Can I keep one of your drawings? I'll frame it in my room!"

When you explain that you didn't mean for him to know, Kalim just laughs and waves his hand.

"Why not?! If you like me enough to draw me like that, then you should know that I really love you too!"

It's the most natural and sincere confession in the world.

From that day on, every time he sees you with your notebook, he approaches you with a big smile.

"Are you going to draw me today too? Let me pose for you!"

For Kalim, the fact that you portray him so lovingly means only one thing: your feelings for him are as great as his feelings for you.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil immediately realizes that you've been drawing him. He's an expert at noticing glances, at reading subtle gestures… and your gaze on him is something that hasn't gone unnoticed.

One day, when he happens to look through your notebook, he stops. He didn't expect to find entire pages filled with his sketches.

Each stroke is rendered with stunning delicacy, as if each line seeks to precisely capture his essence.

"My, my… So you've been watching me with such devotion"

He says with a satisfied smile, but his eyes sparkle.

When he confronts you about it, he looks you straight in the eye.

"Tell me, darling, why are you so obsessed with me?"

If you tell him you admire him because he's beautiful, Vil smiles, pleased.

But if you tell him you draw him because you want to capture his true essence, beyond the perfect image he shows the world, his expression changes.

"Hmph… So that's what you see in me"

He whispers, touching his lips with his fingers.

For the first time in a long time, someone has looked beyond the public image of Vil Schoenheit.

Since that day, every time you draw, Vil approaches you naturally.

"If you want to portray my beauty, at least let me pose for you properly,"

He says elegantly, but deep down, he wants you to continue seeing only him.

Until one day, he leans into your ear and whispers,

"If you've already fallen so deeply for me, why don't you admit it? Show me that your obsession with me goes beyond the limits of your notebook…"

Idia Shroud

Idia never thought anyone would find him worthy of being drawn, much less someone like you.

When he accidentally discovers your notebook full of his sketches, he panics completely.

"T-THIS IS A SYSTEM ERROR, THIS CAN'T BE REAL!"

He flips through it with trembling hands and realizes you've drawn things he never thought anyone would notice.

His hair illuminated by the screen in the dark.

The way his fingers move precisely on the keyboard.

His calm expression when he's focused on a game.

"What is this? Why did you do it? Is this some cruel joke from Fate's RNG?"

If you tell him you just enjoy drawing him because you like him, his hair turns completely pink in a second.

"S-Stop saying things like that, my emotional HP is at 1!"

From that day on, every time he sees you drawing, he gets nervous, but also happy :>

Until one day, between mumbles, he whispers to you

"Hum, if you like watching me so much… then… does that mean you like me…?"

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is used to people looking at him with fear or respect… but never with the warmth reflected in your drawings.

When he finds your notebook by chance and sees so many of his sketches, he falls silent for a moment.

The shadows of the night envelop him, but you have captured him with light.

His serene expression when he gazes at the stars.

The melancholy in his eyes when he walks alone through campus.

The gentleness with which he touches a gargoyle.

"That's how you see me…"

He murmurs, a strange feeling of warmth in his chest.

When he mentions it to you, it's not with mockery or embarrassment, but with genuine curiosity.

"Tell me, little artist… why do you watch me so much?"

If you tell him you simply enjoy drawing him because you find him fascinating, Malleus smiles gently.

"So… if you enjoy watching me, would you like to spend more nights with me?"

From that day on, Malleus becomes your personal model, letting you draw him while he tells you stories of ancient times in Briar Valley.

And when, one day, on a stormy night, he asks you in a low voice:

"Is this the destiny you have chosen? To look only at me, in all my facets?"

You will know that Malleus Draconia has already fallen head over heels for you.

[mallory524]

Oh oh, can I request a sort of alternate ending to the kidnapping headcanons with each of the Thunderbolts where, when they are about to break into the building reader is trapped in, reader appears behind them all bloody and bruised, making them jump and her saying, “Did you guys come to save me? Aww, that’s so sweet, I feel so loved right now!!”

(OMG YES This is sweet and fun I love it)

the thunderbolts come to save you, but you've already handled it yourself

tags- fem!reader, mostly just silly and fluffy, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of blood and fighting and minor injuries, some language

Yelena

Yelena knows that you’re tough, but she doesn’t expect you to be able to get yourself out of this one. The group gets to where you’re being held, and you’re just sitting on the ground, with your back up against the doorway. You look like hell, but you’re free. This is not what Yelena had imagined. She thought she’d have to free you herself and toss you over her shoulder or something. She couldn’t be more happy to see that she was wrong about your state. “Oh, hey, guys! This is awfully sweet of you to all come out here. This is a long ways away from the city,” you say as you manage to get back up on your feet. Yelena looks at you, amazed, and runs up to hug you and kiss your temple. Walker mutters to Ava, “At this point we could’ve just called her an Uber.”

Bucky

Bucky did not want to think about what could be happening to you. He’s seen a lot of pain and hurt in his day, so he knows firsthand how ugly these situations can get. Luckily, it never got as bad as it could’ve, because you actually broke yourself out. Bucky did not expect to find you already fighting off your captors on your own when he arrived with the whole team. Bucky wants to help, of course. He gets one punch in. You thank him, like you haven’t just knocked out every other person on your own. “I was just about to look for where they hid my phone so I could call you to give me a ride home, but it looks like I didn’t even need to call! You guys are the best,” you say, as if you’d just been stranded at the airport. Bucky’s never been so proud.

Ava

The fact that the search for you was dragging on for days was only making Ava’s nerves worse. Leaving you in danger for so long made her feel so horrible, and sometimes she’d wonder if it was possible that you’d escaped on your own. She figured it was too much to hope for, but it made her feel a little better. Besides, it wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility. She’d imagine finally reaching your location, and the people who were supposed to be guarding you would all be just as clueless about your whereabouts as she was. She never considered that they’d all be unconscious on the ground when she got there. “Ava!!” she hears you yell from behind. She spins around and sees you jogging (with a slight limp) down the hall to reach her. She’s astonished. “Aww you guys! Thanks for coming. That means a lot.” After that remarkably chill response, Ava looks at you like you’ve never been so beautiful and cool in her eyes before, and that’s saying something.

John

John was terrified the whole time you were missing. All day long, he panicked and thought about all the horrible things that could be happening to you at any given moment. He didn't sleep, he didn't eat, he led the whole search, and he was ready to do whatever to took to get to you. You can only imagine his surprise when you run out and cut his destructive rampage short. He keeps standing there and looking at you because this is not computing. You're just standing there with your hands on your hips, your clothes all tattered, with bruises and cuts all over you. You're clearly exhausted, but you manage a little smirk. "Awww, Walker! Were you worried about me?" He just tosses his silly folded shield to the ground and pulls you into a tight hug. "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He doesn't even put up a fight when you reach out to affectionately ruffle his hair or pinch his cheek like a grandma. He's just so happy you're safe.

Alexei

When Alexei gets there and realizes you’ve already broken yourself out, he is so shocked. Then he thinks about it for a moment, and he doesn’t know why he’s even surprised. Of course you solved this on your own! You’re such a badass. You always have been. It’s one of the first things he noticed about you, and it’s what initially drew him to you. He feels like he should’ve had more faith in you, but now’s not the time for that. Now’s the time to celebrate the fact that you’re safe. He lets out a loud, jovial laugh and wraps his arms around you, telling you over and over again how proud he is of you while wiping some blood from your forehead. Somehow, you always manage to surprise him. Everyone is thrilled that you’re back, but Alexei is absolutely beaming with pride and relief for the rest of the night.

Bob

Part of why the team originally didn’t want Bob to go on the rescue mission, besides the Void stuff, was because they didn’t know what kind of state you’d be in. Bob’s very new to this line of work, and they know how much you mean to him, so they thought it might be too much for him to handle if he ended up having to see you seriously hurt. Luckily that didn’t happen. Before they have the chance to break the door down, you walk out from the other side of the building, waving your arms. “Hey! I’m right here!” Bob rushes to hug you, and it’s so tight that all your words are kind of muffled. “Guys I got the whole search party? This is actually really flattering.” Bob pulls away after a while and he’s immediately worried again when he sees the bruising all over you. You make a “You should see the other guy” joke, but everyone knows you’re not kidding. They really don’t want to see the other guy.

[not-neverland06]

Hey! Your writing is amazing! I’ve been checking daily for new fics lmao

I was wondering if your requests were open would you be able to write some angst with a happy ending w/ Peanut?

Perhaps a Shy!Reader who has flirty banter with Logan. They’re on a mission and Logan has to make a quick decision on who to save — Reader or Jean and he saves Jean without thinking. Reader ends up surviving with a few injuries but her and Logan’s relationship starts to deteriorate. Logan’s not good with verbal apologies so he does acts of service — bringing reader food/drinks etc. reader is stubborn and Logan starts to get frustrated. He eventually proves himself to reader.

I’m sorry if this is confusing!! I’m not creative enough to write it myself and you’re really really skilled. Love your work x

a/n: I read this request and then read them together and my brain imploded because I loved it so much, no smut in this one Summary: Logan saves Jean on a mission and it's the wake-up call you desperately needed to understand that you will never be her. You can't stand to look at him anymore and he doesn't understand why you've stopped talking to him.

“What’re you thinking of doing after this?”

You shrug, leaning back on the uncomfortable bench seats and looking over at Logan. “Not sure, got any plans?”

Logan smirks and you immediately know whatever he’s about to say is going to send you spiraling. “Yeah, whatever you’re doing, sweetheart.”

Oh. My. God!

You know you’ve got it bad when something as simple as that has you swooning. It’s so easy to fall into this routine with him, to pretend you’re more suave than you actually are. Despite your usual tendency to fade into the background, you find it nearly impossible to do with him. 

Where someone else might let you stay quiet and go ignored, he seeks you out. He makes you feel seen and heard. Some days you don’t know if you appreciate it or despise it. You laugh a little, trying to hide just how affected by him you are. “Sounds good, Lo.”

He smiles and leans back on the seat, his arm coming around the back to rest lightly over your shoulders. You can tell from the look on Storm’s face that she’s trying not to laugh at you. You can’t blame her, you’re sure your eyes have tripled in size and you look absolutely stunned. 

Flirting isn’t out of the usual for you and him. Lately, though, he’s upped the game. Touching you more than usual, spending more one-on-one time together. You can feel it all building up to something. You’re shy, not stupid, you know when a guy’s going to ask you out. 

But it feels like he’s dragging it out longer than necessary like he’s enjoying teasing you a little too much.  “Alright,” Scott stands up and moves towards the back of the jet. “We’re almost there, get ready.”

You, very reluctantly, pull away from Logan and get to your feet. He walks past you, briefly squeezing your hand before joining Scott by the ramp. You grin, flexing your hand by your side and trying to memorize the feeling. 

The ramp lowers to the ground and Scott and Logan lead the way out. You’re expecting this to be simple. Stake out the area, find some information about the people running the warehouse, and figure out what exactly it is that they’ve been doing. 

The air is bursting with moisture. It’s suffocating, how humid it is, how it makes the material of your suit cling to your skin. You know the rest of the team can feel it. That it’s irritating them just as much. 

None of you want to be out here in the peak of summer, trying to be stealthy in these ridiculous costumes. Your thighs squeak every time they rub together. It’s beyond embarrassing. You know that that’s what has you all distracted. 

You’re struggling through ankle-deep mud and sweating buckets. So none of you are paying any particular attention to the area around you. Technically, you shouldn’t have to, you’re still about a mile out from where you need to be. 

You duck, hands coming up to cover your ears as Charles’ voice screams through your mind. It’s a trap!

Even with the warning, there’s no time to prepare. The ground around you explodes, grass and dirt flying through the air. Logan grabs your arm, he shoves himself in front of you and takes the brunt of the bullets. Splatters of blood hits your cheeks and he runs you both behind a tree for cover. 

The other three have all found their own cover and they’re struggling to figure out where the shots are coming from. You spot something in the underbrush and scream, “Behind you!”

It’s more of a warning to duck than it is to move. You throw your hands up, shoving the man away from them and sending him flying into the trunk of a tree. You swear you can hear the snap of his spine as it hits the bark. 

You look to Jean and nod towards the small clearing of trees. “Don’t,” Logan warns. But you’re already slipping out of his grip and solidifying the air in front of you. It provides enough of a cover, absorbing the bullets, and giving you all time to figure out a plan of attack. 

Jean moves beside you, eyes narrowing on the perimeter of your cover. “There are too many of them, more than I can count.” 

“How did they know we were coming?” Scott snaps, keeping an eye on the area behind you. 

Your arms struggle under the weight of your power. The more bullets they shoot into your cover, the harder it is to keep up. You’re forced to absorb their energy, push it out tenfold to try and keep the blockage solidified. 

“Guys,” you snap, “we need a plan. I can’t hold it much longer.” You grit your teeth, taking a step forward to try and push against the strain. It does nothing but make your bones ache. Logan shoots you a concerned glance, coming up behind you like he wants to take the weight off your shoulders. But there’s nothing he can do. 

There’s movement behind you, a boot snapping a twig in two. You can’t risk looking back but you can hear the worry in Jean’s voice. “Ten of them-”

You can tell by the sounds of their movement that the others don’t give her much of a chance to finish. Ororo, Scott, and Logan all shoot forward to deal with the threat. Ten isn’t much to worry about. But that doesn’t change the fact that the men in front of you haven’t let up and you’re about to weep from the weight of keeping the wall up. 

Jean stays beside you, brows furrowed in concern. She places her hand on your shoulder and closes her eyes. A second later you feel something like a cool blanket laid over you. The tension in your arms and core eases just enough for you to stop clenching your jaw so hard. Some of the strain eases away and you know she’s sharing it with you. 

But just as quickly as the relief was given, it’s yanked away. Jean jumps back with a gasp, “Flux, we need to move!”

“I can’t,” you shout, fighting to be heard over the sound of bloodshed and gunshots going off in front of and behind you. The others are steadily moving through the people surrounding you, but their numbers are still overwhelming. “It’ll all come crashing down,” you tell her. 

She glances towards the bullets, finally spotting the way they’re slowly, but steadily, moving through the thickened air. The second you let go you’ll be riddled with holes. “Shit,” she hisses. “Look, we can’t stay here much longer-”

She’s cut off by a loud bang. You’re so disoriented by the noise your hands drop to your sides. At the same moment, you hear wood splintering and cracking beside you. What has to be the largest tree in the forest creaks before it begins its descent down towards you both. 

You don’t what happened, or what they used, but it doesn’t matter. The wall in front of you is fading. You have seconds to get out of the way of the bullets and the tree, you’re not sure either of you is going to make it. 

“Jean!” There’s a flash of brown hair and Jean’s being tackled to the ground, safely out of the way of the tree and bullets. You feel something stinging against your shoulder and know the first bullet’s made its way through. 

You also see the tree is almost over top of you. You’ve always been a fight response in flight or fight scenarios. But when there’s nothing to fight, when you have nothing to go up against, you freeze. It’s horrible, you know it, but there’s nothing you can do about it. 

Even as you’re desperately screaming at yourself to just fucking move, all you can do is watch as the tree topples down on top of you. “Flux, duck!” The words trigger something in your brain just soon enough to drop to the ground. 

Scott releases a red beam, blasting through the tree and knocking it off course. You don’t even register the smell of burning flesh as you lay in the mud. Your blood is rushing so fast in your veins, there’s so much adrenaline pumping through you, you can’t focus on anything except the sound of your heartbeat. 

You let out a breath of relief, slowly lifting yourself up to your knees. You don’t hear any more fighting and you figure whoever they hadn’t taken down before, the beam took care of the rest. 

You look down, checking yourself for any bullet holes or serious damage but you can’t find anything. Something warm trickles down your shoulder, it drips across your arm and down your hand. 

You look at the blood curiously, it seems to steady a flow from the simple bullet graze you’d had earlier. “Oh my god,” Jean whispers your name and you turn around with a concerned look. 

You want to ask her what’s wrong but your eyes are trained on the way Logan’s arms are bracketing her. He’s practically on top of her, only now getting up to check on you. You get it, it was a stressful situation, he acted fast. 

But that doesn’t make it any easier to swallow the lump in your throat. It doesn’t ease the burn of betrayal. He saved her, not you. He chose her even though she doesn’t want him. The anger you’re feeling only makes it harder to be aware of your surroundings. 

It’s not until Scott kneels behind you a presses a gentle hand against your back that you lurch forward with a loud cry. The pain slams down on you all at once. The wind blowing gently against your back feels like someone’s dug razor blades in your skin and ripped. 

Feet rush towards you, someone kneeling beside you and grabbing your shoulders. Logan forces you up and makes you look at him before his gaze turns to your back. “What the fuck did you do?” He practically growls, lunging towards Scott. 

He grabs him by the collar and shoves him into the dirt. Ororo and Jean leap forward, trying unsuccessfully to rip him off. You try and keep your eyes open, try and stay focused. The pain is too much, you don’t want to be awake for this anymore. Every nerve on your back feels like it’s being forcefully exposed and plucked at. 

Your brain forces a shutdown and you slump into the mud, the world going black. 

When you wake up, you’re on your stomach. You’re a little dazed, not fully remembering how you got here. You try and sit up but there’s a steady grip around your wrists stopping you. “Don’t move,” Jean warns from somewhere behind you. 

You try and look for her but you can’t move much. Your head feels like it weighs a hundred pounds, stuck to the pillow beneath you. “What happened? Why can’t I move?”

Her shoes appear in front of you and then she’s kneeling down, a slightly worried look on her face. “We needed to make sure you didn’t roll over in your sleep.” Her brows crinkle and she frowns, “You don’t remember?” You shake your head minutely. She sighs, lifting her hand to your face and pressing her chilled fingers to your temple. 

The images rush towards you. You see it all from her eyes. The way Logan had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground, checking over her and not once looking at you. How Scott had tried to stop the tree from breaking your spine. His beam had just barely grazed your back as you had ducked. But it was enough for there to be serious damage. 

Through her view, you can see the way your skin had bubbled up and blistered. How horribly damaged it was. You have limited healing abilities, but it was enough to stop the nerves from being permanently damaged. 

She lets you go and you groan, the pain slowly registering in your brain. It’s dulled and you don’t know if they’ve given you drugs or if your abilities are still working to help you. “How’s Scott?” 

She chuckles and shakes her head while she undoes the restraints around your wrist. “He feels awful. He keeps coming by to check on you.”

The thought of him sitting beside you while you were strapped down to the bed makes you feel a little bad. It wasn’t his fault, he’d helped you. It was more than Logan had done for you. 

You frown, hating yourself for being bitter. If he hadn’t helped, Jean might not be here next to you. He had saved your friend. The thought didn’t bring much comfort, though. “I’m not mad at him.”

Jean eases you onto your knees and slowly helps you sit up. It causes minimal pain, but it’s still uncomfortable enough to grit your teeth and dig your nails into your palms. “I know, but he’ll probably be coming down here a lot to check on you.”

You almost ask her if anyone else has visited. If Logan had, but you don’t think her answer would make you feel any better. “He did,” she tells you and you click your tongue in irritation. 

“Out of my head,” you warn. She releases you with a small grin. “I don’t care,” you tell her, trying to appear nonchalant. 

She tilts her head, eyes narrowing on you. “Yes, you do. And I don’t need telepathy to know.” She walks towards your IV bag, fiddling around with something on the line. “He was here whenever he could be, practically lived beside you.”

“Don’t care,” you tell her again, but there’s less conviction this time. 

Jean frowns and you hate how guilty she looks. It’s not her fault he’s desperately in love with her and not you. You can’t force someone to love you or choose you. And you don’t want to. You want someone to love you for who you are, not because they couldn’t have their first choice. 

“Don’t,” you say lowly. “Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault.”

She doesn’t get a chance to say anything before the door bursts open, both Logan and Scott sliding into your room. Scott lets out a relieved breath when he sees you. He breathes out your name and approaches with a guilty smile, “You’re awake.”

“Charles told us,” Logan informs. You offer him a brief glance before diverting your attention to Scott. 

Petty, you’re aware. But you don’t want to see Logan right now. You’d put so much effort and time into your friendship with him. It doesn’t even matter if he doesn’t feel the same way about you. You two are best friends, and he didn’t even try to help you when you needed him the most. 

So, you smile at Scott. You forgive him and you tell him you're fine. You chat with him and Jean while Logan just stares at you from the other side of your bed. You can’t make yourself face him. You don’t want to look at him, it makes you sick to your stomach.

Eventually, Scott’s guilt is slightly assuaged and he and Jean leave for the night. Logan is a heavy presence beside you, one you no longer can ignore. You shift around, pretending to fluff your pillows until he grabs your hand. 

“What’re you doing?”

You look at his hand and then at him. Whatever look is on your face is enough for him to release you and back off. “Getting comfortable,” you spit out, more venom in your voice than necessary. Something clicks for him, you can see it as it happens. 

He backs up and narrows his eyes down at you. “Right.” He frowns and sucks on his teeth, nodding his head silently. “I’ll come back when you’re feeling a little better.” You don’t miss the hidden dig underneath it all, the way he’s calling out you’re unusual behavior. 

“I think that’d be best.”

He scoffs and shakes his head, slamming the door behind him as he leaves. You jump at the noise and it makes you hiss as a twinge of pain shoots down your spine. You feel slightly guilty about the whole interaction. Then, you remember the way he’d been cradling Jean and you feel slightly vindicated. 

You’re sure he doesn’t even give a shit. He’s probably pouting in his room, wishing Jean was in bed beside him. 

What the fuck?

It’s all that’s been playing through Logan’s head since he returned from your room in the medbay. He’s waited days for you to wake up, so he can finally take a breath and let go of the anxiety that’s been plaguing him. 

He’d thought that he’d lost you in that forest. When he’d gone for Jean, he’d assumed you’d just be able to use your powers to knock the tree out of your path. Or make it melt around you. 

Honestly, he can’t put a finger on what exactly he was thinking. But he knew that you could protect yourself and that would be your priority. So he’d moved without really thinking and grabbed the person who would be collateral damage if your powers went haywire. 

And then you hadn’t saved yourself and all he could smell was your burning flesh. The smell has been stuck in his nose since you were brought back to the mansion. He can’t escape it. Everywhere he goes, he sees you burning and hears your screams. 

He’d thought that you were dead and there was a moment where he genuinely was so lost he could do nothing but watch as the others swarmed you. He couldn’t move, couldn’t help you. He could only stare at your still body and pray to anybody who could hear him that you weren’t dead. 

He didn’t know what he would do if he lost you before he ever got a chance to love you. 

He’d, irritatingly, imagined all the different ways he would finally tell you how he felt when you woke up. He’d prepared himself for every possible reaction, except this one. He hadn’t expected you to reject him before he ever got the chance to confess. 

Anger stews within him as he paces through his room. He knows that it’s unfair to be upset with you. You’d gone through something horrific and there had been doubts about your recovery. Of course, you’d act off. 

Except, you only seemed to be directing that at him. Had you been just as dismissive to Scott, the person who actually hurt you, he would have looked past it. He’s tempted to go back down and see you again, maybe try and make you see some sense. 

Instead, he decides to give you both some time to calm down. He doesn’t want to do anything he might regret while he’s pissed off. He’ll see you tomorrow and, hopefully, you’ll be back to normal. 

You’d thought Logan might have gotten the hint with how you behaved earlier. That was not the case. He’s back today and you can smell the breakfast food he’s brought you. The smell is wafting deliciously from an inconspicuous brown bag. 

But you know it’s from the restaurant that’s twenty minutes out of his way. You’re not petty enough that you can’t appreciate the forty-minute round trip he’d taken for you, but you still aren’t excited to see him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he smiles at you despite your clearly hostile energy. He tugs the chair towards your bed, ripping open the bag and pulling out enough food for the both of you. 

You think it should be considered a form of manipulation to call you that while you’re pissed at him. He has such a clear effect on you. You know he’s aware of it. He knows that when he calls you something sweet like that it makes your heart race and stomach flip. 

You turn your gaze towards your blanket. You pretend the thread pattern is the most interesting thing in the world so you don’t have to look at him. You’re sick of giving your all to men who couldn’t care less about you. 

You’re tired of being the second, third, fourth choice. You want someone to choose you first for once. And you genuinely thought Logan would be the man to do that. But he’d chosen Jean. You should have known. 

“Alright,” he huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at you. You’re pissed off that he’s acting like he’s the one who was hurt. “What the hell is your problem? You’ve never been this mad at me before.”

It’s his tone of voice that really grates on you. He genuinely does not understand what he’s done wrong. He doesn’t even comprehend the possibility that you might be mad he left you to die. Have you really become such a doormat?

Yes, you’re shy and generally reserved with the people you meet. But he is so different. You two met and it was an instant connection that you thought was reciprocated. You hadn't realized that you'd become so complacent in the relationship he thought he could get away with something like this with no repercussions. 

“You left me to die,” you snap at him, voice taking a pitch it never has before. You’ve never truly gotten angry at him. Pissed off sometimes when he teased you a little too much. But you’d never plainly shown anger at him. “You fucking left me behind and expect me to, what,” you scoff and shove the food back towards him. 

“You think some shitty breakfast is going to fix this?” His face contorts. It screws up into something like hurt and you worry you might have been too harsh. He doesn’t know how you feel about him. He doesn’t know that this would hurt you so bad. 

But, it doesn’t matter. You’re still his friend. You should have at least warranted a little concern. 

Just as quickly as it appeared, the hurt is washed away by his own anger. “I thought you could take care of yourself. Isn’t that what you’re always bitching at us about?”

If you weren’t so upset you might find it funny how quickly the two of you turned on each other. Clearly, there was something repressed between the two of you. Some brewing resentment that neither of you had ever acknowledged. The words are coming quickly now, without thought.

“Fuck you, Logan,” you snap back at him. “You didn’t give a shit whether I lived or died. You only cared about your precious Jean.” You spit out her name with so much venom it stings as it leaves your tongue. 

He laughs, getting out of his chair. He shakes his head and glares at you. His anger is always a physical thing. You know he’s pacing so he doesn’t do something worse, like destroy the entirety of the room. 

“That’s what this is, you’re jealous? Don’t blame your fucking incompetence on me.” You hate the way he’s speaking to you. Like you’re a little girl who's incapable of understanding even the most basic of concepts. He has such a patronizing look on his face, you want nothing more than to wipe it off. 

The tables beside you tremble, the vases of flowers rattling against the wood. “I’m your friend, Logan. You could at least pretend like you cared about me.”

He leans against the end of the bed, tilting himself forward until he’s aggressively imposing your space. You shrink back against the pillows, narrowing your eyes in disdain. “Don’t fucking pull that shit with me. I knew that your priority would be to save yourself and I acted accordingly. This wasn’t some goddamn ploy to get into Jean’s pants. Grow the fuck up, Flux!”

You flinch back at the volume of his voice. Unwillingly, tears pool in the corners of your eyes. It’s an involuntary response. Sometimes you just get so enraged that you have no other way to get rid of it than to cry. It’s infuriating to see the moment someone stops taking you seriously and starts to think you’re nothing more than a crybaby. 

Logan’s face pales and he winces, backing away from you. “I didn’t-”

“Enough,” you stop him, voice thick with unshed tears. He never calls you by your X-men name, it’s an unspoken agreement between the two of you. That’s a formality reserved for the other members. To each other, you’re nothing more than two people who care deeply for one another. 

Or, you had been. Before this one moment had blown your life and your back up. 

“I appreciate how much faith you have in my abilities, but the fact that your first instinct wasn’t even to protect me says a lot.” You take in a deep breath and shake your head. “Thanks for the breakfast, but can you please just leave?”

He looks like he doesn’t want to. You know he doesn’t want to leave. You two never fight like this. Even if there wasn’t a lot said, it’s still not normal for you. Maybe that should have been your first hint that things weren’t what you thought. 

It’s healthy to fight, to a certain extent. Sometimes it's needed. You two never have before and you know it’s just been brewing for a while, waiting to blow up. “I-”

“Get out,” you shout, and the tables beside you finally crumble under the weight of your emotions. They drip to the ground in an inorganic form of liquid wood. “Shit,” you hiss, glancing over at them. You wave your hand and they return to their normal state, but it doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t have lost control at all. 

The door slams and you look up to find the room empty. You sink back against your bed and run your hands over your face. You ignore the way the skin of your back screams in protest. 

You embrace the pain, the fiery shocks running up your nerves as the bandages chafe against the wounds. You focus on that instead of how things have ended with Logan. You always had such high hopes that he might be the one you finally man up and confess to. 

You should have known you were wrong. You should have known that it would never have ended with him picking you over her. 

You’re permitted to leave the medbay the next day. You don’t see or hear from Logan for the following week. You can’t confirm if he’s purposefully avoiding you or not but you have to believe he is. You both live in the same hall. You don’t know how it’s possible to have gone this long without even catching a slight glimpse of him. 

You force yourself to suffocate the part of you that misses him. You picture the side of yourself that longs for his presence and imagine shoving a pillow over her face. You don’t want to ache and cry over someone who doesn’t give two shits about you. 

You keep reminding yourself over and over again that when things got rough he showed you his true colors. But it’s more difficult than you imagined to just completely disregard so much history with him. 

Besides, you hadn’t realized just how little you interacted with the others until Logan was out of your daily life. It’s so difficult for you to bond with people that when you’d connected with Logan you’d latched onto him. 

It’s a little pathetic, honestly. Being grown and eating lunch alone because you only had one friend. You wonder if your feelings for him were genuine or born from a desperation not to be alone. You don’t let yourself linger on the question for long. 

It’s as your training with the students that you finally see him again. 

“Has he made much progress yet?”

Jean shakes her head and purses her lips. She watches as Billy, one of the newer students, struggles with the logs in front of him. He was a firestarter, a very inexperienced one who had only ever set his curtains on fire. 

His powers were more focused on the mental aspect of things rather than the physical. Which is why you and Jean were in charge of helping him. He couldn’t start anything on his own, he only really seemed to be able to activate the ability when he was emotionally stimulated. 

That meant whenever he was mad or sad, or anything in between, everyone in a fifty-foot radius was in danger. He was a risk to the other students and you were both trying to be gentle with him. But you’d been working with him for so long and there was so little progress. It felt like he wasn’t trying sometimes. 

He’d asked Rogue out a week ago and when she’d said no, her hair had caught on fire. You know he could have been hurt and lashed out without thought or malice behind it. But you’d seen the look in his eye. 

You’re fifty percent sure he knows exactly what he’s doing. This little act he puts on is just to get himself out of trouble. You hadn’t brought the issue to Charles yet because you’re trying to give him the benefit of the doubt. 

“Billy,” you call out. His head whips up and he sends you a vicious glare. You can’t help the sneer on your lips. “Just take a deep breath and try again. There’s nothing wrong with struggling, we all did.”

You put on your normal teacher voice, calm and collected. Assuring. But the little shit in front of you isn’t buying it for a second. He gives you a sarcastic little grin, “Right. Sorry, I forgot you’re a fuck-up just like me.”

“Billy!” Jean snaps, taking a step forward to reprimand him. She doesn’t get far before there’s a fireball shooting out of his palms and hurtling towards the both of you. 

There’s no chance to react before something slams into your side and is tossing you to the ground. Your head nearly snaps against the grass but there’s a hand underneath your skull softening the blow. 

You smell something smoking and look up to see a large scorch mark right where you’d just been. Jean’s standing over it, palm outstretched as she keeps the fire subdued. She gives you a worried look, “Are you okay?”

Surprisingly, yes. You glance up to see Logan hovering over you. He backs off when he notices you’re okay, getting to his knees and offering you a hand. Wordlessly, you slip your palm into his and let him help you into a sitting position. 

“You alright,” his hand hovers over your shoulder like he wants to pull you closer. But he resists, backing off and waiting for your answer. You nod your head, still a little dazed from the failed assassination attempt. 

He narrows his eyes, searching your face for any sign of head trauma. When he’s properly assured you’re okay he jumps to his feet. “Billy!” His voice booms across the courtyard and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen that little asshole scared. 

He’s barely on his feet before Logan is stalking towards him, jerking him forward by the scruff of his neck and dragging him towards the mansion. “We need to have a little talk,” the tone of his voice has you a little scared and you’re not even the one he’s mad at. 

Jean walks towards you and helps you to your feet. “Is your back okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod and brush your clothes off. You have to physically shake the shock of what happened off. “Yeah, I’m fine. I can’t believe he did that.”

Jean scoffs and glares towards Billy’s back. Your eyes widen in shock when you see the large scorch mark across his arm. “Jean! He got you, are you okay?”

She glances down at her shirt and frowns. “Yeah, practically a sunburn.” She gives you a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine.”

As shitty as this sounds, you’re not concerned for her. You can only focus on the fact that she was in just as much danger as you and Logan had tackled you to the ground. You glance back towards the mansion, more fucking confused than ever. 

You’re not sure what compels you to follow Logan, but you’re running after him before Jean can stop you. He’s barely got a minute headstart on you, you’re not sure why you can’t find him. You’d gone through every inch of the first floor. 

You don’t know where he would have dragged Billy, but it’s nowhere you can find. After about ten minutes of looking for him, you give up on the hope that you’re ever going to figure out what’s happening inside his brain. 

You let out a defeated sigh, running a hand over your face and trying to shake off the funk of the day. You can’t believe that little shit tried to roast you. You’re not comfortable with the fact that he’s just roaming around inside the mansion somewhere. 

You turn out of the living room and nearly slam into someone. His hands shoot out, grabbing your shoulders and gently stopping you. “Logan,” you give him a strained smile. “I was looking for you.” You glance over his shoulder and frown. “Where’s Billy?”

Logan sighs, his hands linger on your arms for a moment before he takes a step back. “Wheels got to him before I could do anything.”

You laugh a little, the noise involuntary. “What were you planning on doing with the sixteen-year-old?”

He doesn’t find the question amusing if his expression is anything to go by. “He was really trying to hurt you.”

His words sober you up slightly and you drop the flippant attitude. “Yeah, I wanted to,” god, it feels like you could choke on the words. Just last week you were screaming at him for not helping you. Now, you could barely thank him because he had. 

“You’re always my priority.” He tells you before you can struggle any longer. Your head shoots up and you stare at him with confusion. He groans, the noise tired and resigned. “Saving Jean was a mistake. I mean it, kid, I just thought you could handle yourself.”

You open your mouth but he stops you before you can argue. “I know, that’s not the point. I should have saved you, no matter what I thought you could or couldn't handle.”

“No,” you stop him and shake your head. “No, Logan, I shouldn’t. I,” your mouth opens and he stares at you expectantly. What you were going to say gets stuck in your throat. This is a horrible idea. 

“I liked you in a way you didn’t like me and it was unfair of me to push my expectations onto you.” You wanted it to sound better, and more intelligent. Instead, it came out in one rushed breath and you’re not sure he even understood half of what you said. 

His brows furrow in confusion for a moment before a smile breaks out on his face. You’re not sure if it’s a good or bad thing that he’s smiling. You can’t tell if he’s mocking you or about to profess his undying love. 

You don’t have to wonder for long. He moves closer towards you, leaning forward until you’re practically sharing the same breaths. Unconsciously, you’re drawn into him, hands braced gently on his chest as you chase after him. 

“What are you doing?” Your whispered words brush against his lips and he gives you a small smile. His hands travel up your waist. He tugs you closer, his other hand looping around your neck and craning you up. 

“I’m gonna choose you every fucking time, kid.” His lips brush across your own and it’s like a switch is flipped in you both. Your arms twine around his neck, pulling him down until you’re practically melting into him. 

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted and so different at the same time. You always thought your first kiss would be after some cheesy first date. He would have taken you out to dinner. Something would have inevitably gone wrong, you spilled something on your dress or the waiter brought the wrong order. 

You would both worry that it was a sign that nothing would work out between you. And then, at the end of the night, he’d tug you into his arms and kiss you like you were the most precious thing he’d ever held. 

That would be nice, but this is better. He’s not holding you like you’re something fragile or something too precious for this world. He’s kissing you like you’re the very air he needs to survive. He’s greedy with his affections and demanding with his wants. 

You’re being consumed and devoured. And you never want to stop. This is all you’ve ever wanted with him, from him. 

Sadly, you do have to breathe. You’re the one that forces the stop, you’re sure he would have happily suffocated if it meant he could keep touching you like this. You pull back, the air coming in short pants between your parted lips. 

You can already feel them swelling, the slight irritation on your cheeks from his stubble. You don’t mind, you quite like the feeling. He speaks before you can, a pleased smile on his face. “Forgive me yet?”

You chuckle, a little impressed by how cheeky he is, still slightly pissed off. “Why don’t you do that again and I’ll think about it?”

He rolls his eyes but you can see the smile fighting against his firm glare. “You’re really gonna make me work for it, huh?”

You smile and nod, leaning into him again. “You’re never gonna hear the end of it,” you whisper before dipping down and kissing him again. You can’t believe you ever doubted just how much he cares for you. 

He didn’t choose Jean over you. He’s just a dumbass. 

a/n: I had to resist putting in a “pick me, choose me, love me” line in there bc that would have just been too much lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral  @wolviesgirl ♡ 

[bizarrelovetriangel]

lonely + touch starved mc when they first make their relationship with the boys official? like they're scared to ask for more but desperately need it, since they've been missing it for so long

love your writing btw, thank you for posting it!!! no pressure if this request isn't your thing! :))

sylus

- even before your relationship became official, you and sylus have always been somewhat touchy. hands bumping against each other, fingers ever so slightly grazing, and bodies casually brushing up upon close proximity — it's always been there. his touch, no matter how simple, makes you feel so warm and so special. you haven't felt so wanted, in such a long time, maybe ever. the way he makes you feel is one of a kind, and you can't help but crave for more.

- you decided to be subtle and nonchalant about it, thinking sylus was going to tease you if you ask directly. the 'accidental' touches linger for a little too long, and the amount of times you'd playfully and casually hold him had increased. but maybe you didn't do a good job at keeping it low key.

- sylus pays attention to you more than you think. it didn't take long for him to catch your longing gazes to his lips before looking away, and the way you fiddle with your hands after accidentally touching his.

- "if you want something from me, don't hesistate to claim it. i'm all yours, sweetie." he told you after once again noticing your not-so-subtle-gazes at him. "i'd be happy to give you whatever you ask for. anything at all." that's just what sylus does. he's always encouraging you to be unafraid and boldly go after what you want. do what you want to do without shame.

- and so, with his encouragement, you dared yourself to kiss him. and from the second he kissed back with even more passion, you realized that you have nothing to worry about at all. he wants you just as much as you want him.

- with every day you spend together, you become more and more comfortable in asking for physical affection. just as he said, you don't even really need to ask him — just do it. so, eventually, you've come to a point where, if you want kisses, you just kiss him and he will return with a million times more than you could ever ask for.

caleb

- he's basically a puppy. and puppies are naturally affectionate. even before you were official, physical affection has always been one of his main love languages. headpats, pokes, picking you up, grabbing your waist, ruffling your head, giving you massages, putting an arm around your shoulders, using you as a headrest.... he simply cannot keep his hands off you.

- once you became an official couple, however, while you're grateful that his usual handsiness didn't go away, you started to want more physical affection that are a little more intimate. but you wonder, how could you bring it up without sounding greedy or demanding or awkward? knowing him, he'd tease you and you'd rather not have that right now.

- so you start giving him more longing touches but nothing further. they're like invitations for him to make a move: 'if you want more, then do something' kind of touches. you'd rest your hand on his hands, chest, back, arms and shoulders, hoping that you have some effect on him that will make him want to touch you in return.

- as smart as he is, caleb doesn't catch on right away and fails to fall for your traps, and so eventually you lose patience. "hurry up and kiss me already, dummy" and only then did it click to him that you want more. that you are comfortable to take your relationship a step further in regards to physical affection.

- in truth, he was taking it slow around the time your relationship began because he doesn't want to overwhelm you. he's been in love with you for so long, he'd shoved all his feelings in a box, thinking he'd never be able to act on them. he was afraid of opening that box and overwhelming you with his feelings, so he thought he'd wait for you to get comfortable with his touches as your lover.

- and now that he knows you've been waiting for him, caleb is relieved. at last, he doesn't have to hold back. "if you don't mind, i'd like to be a little more greedy now."

zayne

- your relationship started off slow in general because you're both still testing the waters and learning how to act around each other as a couple. you'd start off with holding hands in private, giving kisses on the cheek, and eventually, kisses on the lips. zayne was quite reserved at the beginning, and so there wasn't as much intimacy as most couples would have at the starting stage.

- although you don't mind the slow pace, you secretly longed for more of his touches that are so gentle and warm, like a sweet embrace. his kisses, despite being brief, are always so passionate and they make you want to melt. his cuddles are even better than your most comfortable blanket. you want to be in his arms forever. but of course, you don't want to seem desperate or scare him away by coming off too strong, so you say nothing.

- little did you know, zayne is just as nervous and touched-starved as you. he wants to feel you and he wants to be held by you, and he wished he was more experienced just so he could be more confident that his actions won't be foolish and wrong. because it's you, he wants to get everything perfect.

- for some time, you two stuck with minimal intimacy. however, both of you have also become impatient rather fast, feeling as if you want more and more of each other every day. you'd wish that those goodnight kisses lasted just a little longer. you'd wished that you'd cuddled more while watching movies. you'd wished that you're next to each other as you fall asleep after talking about how your days went.

- with time, you two have gotten out of your comfort zones together and soon enough, neither of you would get nervous about wanting a kiss, and sleeping next to each other wasn't so terrifying anymore. it's all about timing and getting comfortable with each other. eventually, both of you grew confident with physical affection and intimacy, up to a point where you won't be any need to ask. if you want kisses, you just do it. after all, you're his, and he's yours.

rafayel

- rafayel is so pretty he makes you nervous sometimes. in the beginning of the relationship, you'd find yourself in disbelief that that man is your lover, and that he is in love with you, out of everyone in the deepspace. every time he holds your hand, gives you a kiss, and hugs you, you feel like you're not worthy of such warmth.

- and yet still, you need more. more kisses, more hand holding, more cuddling, even just sitting closely together. you just love that tingling, comfortable, warm feeling that he shelters you with. he makes you feel so loved and appreciated. you feel greedy and clingy at the thought of demanding more of his affection, so you kept it all inside and just took what he gave you.

-but rafayel is someone that made you comfortable so easily. he's often playful and lively, and he tends to move around, a lot. there's a lot of playful touches involved — him locking his arms around yours, holding your shoulders, bumping your hands, and various other little casual physical contact, which greatly helped with intimacy.

- eventually, your nervousness went away and you learned to take initiative, knowing that rafayel will never mind all the physical affection as long as it's with you.

- although, if anything, rafayel might just be a little more touch-starved than you, because he'd been waiting for you for so, so long, and every time you hold him, he's met with a sense of belonging — like everything is going to be okay, and that this life is good, after all. and so, don't be afraid to approach him first because he will always welcome and appreciate your touch, and he will absolutely return it all by a tenfold.

xavier

- he'd be the one to take initiative. you won't even have to ask for more because he wants you even more than you could possibly want him. he can be greedy when it comes to you. even in the beginning, he'd find excuses to be around you and touch you, so you won't ever feel lonely.

- but of course, there comes the times when you're feeling needy for more of him. with xavier, the best thing to do is to be direct and upfront, no matter how scary it seems. you found that the best time is when he's sleepy. he is so cuddly. all you need to do is lie down next to him and he'll gradually get closer and closer into cuddling with you until eventually you're spooning. he'd usually make the first move and ask, "is this okay?" or sometimes he'd just do it and read your expressions. if you like it, he'll do it more. if you don't, he'll stop right away.

- if you want to make the first move, he's always been open and inviting with you. he'll always make sure you're comfortable. he's very approachable, so it doesn't take long for you to become confident with what you want from him.

- but mostly, xavier will always want to give than take more, so you won't ever have to worry. with him, you'll always know that you are loved.

[amazinglyashy]

Hi hi I just found your blog like an hour ago and I’ve been scrolling and am obsessed with the way you write for the l&ds!! ❤️❤️ if you don’t mind I love a little angst and was wondering if you could write the boys reacting to MC showing up at their doorstep heavily injured from like a fight with a wanderer.

Oh my gosh thank you!!! And I don't mind at all, my friends make fun of me for how much I enjoy hurt/comfort and angst :'D Thank you for the request!

LaDS men react to you appearing on their doorstep, injured and bleeding

Xavier -

If you end up at his door, it's more than likely because your unconscious decided to hit the button for his floor rather than your own. You just wanted to get home, not bother anyone, but he's stood right there. Having just come home from grabbing a late night snack from a nearby convenience store, you stumbled out of the elevator right as he's unlocking his front door.

He drops his keys and his bag.

It's a good thing too, because your legs gave out right then, so it's much better for him to catch you if his arms are free.

He's calling your name, and while you're still conscious, you're not really processing anything anymore. You're in too much shock, and you've lost too much blood by now.

He'll get the door unlocked and rush you inside his apartment, setting you down on his couch as he runs for a first aid kit, calling the association for emergency services while he does so.

"You're going to be okay. I promise. Just continue to breathe, alright?"

Xavier doesn't know if he's saying that to comfort you or himself, but he also isn't stopping to think about it, as he rapidly administers first aid to your wounds to at least slow the bleeding until help can arrive.

It's three in the morning but he's wide awake sitting next to your bed at the hospital, something unnatural for someone so sleep deprived usually.

He can't bring himself to shut his eyes though.

It's not work the risk.

Not until you wake up first.

Zayne -

It's like his brain splits into two the moment that he sees you standing there.

One side is his medical knowledge rushing forward as he moves to catch you as your feet stumble beneath you, trying to impossibly assess the extent of the damage before even getting to see it all. It's the half that's taking you to his kitchen table, because it's the easiest workspace for him right now. The one that's pulling out his doctor's bag from the closet in the hall, and the first aid kit from the cupboard in the kitchen as he cuts your shirt open.

The other side?

Oh honey, his heart is breaking.

If you think there's a day at work where he doesn't pray to any existent or nonexistent god that he doesn't see you today, spread out on a gurney or operating table without warning due to your unconscious state, then you'd be painfully wrong.

It's amazing how well he works while panicking on the inside, his skilled hands patching your wounds after meticulous sterilization, any sutures needed placed perfectly even through your pained groans tugging at his heart.

He knows he needs to get you to the hospital, even though he's taken good care of you in his own home. But he needs to sink to the floor for a minute, his back dragging against the wall as he heaves a deep sigh. It's a heavy toll feeling the stick of the dried blood on his hands- your blood on his hands.

With all his knowledge, he knows you'll be okay. He knows he himself will be okay. But right now-

He's not.

Sylus -

The N109 zone is beyond dangerous, mostly due to the criminals and leeches lurking in the dark shadows, but there's also no shortage of Wanderers, including ones that have been genetically altered to be even worse than they normally were.

So when Sylus sees you stumbling at his doorstep, bloodied hand reaching for the knob as he glances at the camera feed, he's not sure he could say he's ever moved so fast in his life otherwise. "Sweetie-" He breathes, as he catches you, scooping you up and rushing you inside as quickly as he possibly can without aggravating your already extensive injuries.

Luke is already running for first aid, and Kieran is already contacting the doctor. Mephisto is shrieking in the hall as he follows Sylus to his bedroom, protesting the fact that Sylus had needed him for surveillance of a target today instead of watching you.

Sylus knows.

He knows this is his fault.

If he had had someone keeping an eye on you, this wouldn't have happened.

His eyes are glued to your barely conscious form in his arms, the guilt in the recesses of his heart digging deeper with every slather of red that painted your skin.

Sorry to say, you're going to have your work cut out for you when you wake up. It's going to take a lot of heavy lifting on your part to convince him that he's not at fault for what happened to you.

And you will be waking up.

Sylus will make sure of that.

Rafayel -

Don't make his nightmares a reality.

Not again.

He's catching you before you can even begin to sway, and he'll be lucky if he remembers to shut the door behind him, his body melding against yours as he picks you up and runs down to his car.

"No, no no no. You stay awake, cutie."

He's definitely breaking at least a dozen laws just trying to get you to Akso hospital as quickly as he can. His mind is racing as fast as his car is moving down the streets, wondering what could have happened to you, what he should be doing right now, if he should have administered first aid to you before taking off-

But he's there so fast, it would have been nearly identical on the clock regardless of him still choosing to rush you to the hospital, or run to get and administer first aid for you from within his home.

He's there until you wake up- wide awake no matter how long it takes. It could be minutes, hours, days- he can't sleep. The image of you dying before him- the image of you standing on his doorstep as well- etched on the back of his eyelids every time he tried to close his eyes.

He talks to you even when you're not awake, stroking your hand, your cheek, the side of your neck- trying to make sure you're as comfortable as he can make you.

When you wake up again, he has to hold himself back with everything in him from squeezing you too tightly. He doesn't want to burst your stitches or harm you, but his body and arms are all-encompassing on you as he hugs you firmly, his face buried in the crook of your neck.

He really doesn't need you to see him cry.

[1999hiru]

୨୧ cw. perv! ellie, ellie being creepy, perv! reader　

⋆˙⟡ loser! ellie is a pervert... but maybe you are too.

─────────────────────────

loser! ellie who can't help but take a peek under your mini skirt when you have to pick something up. you're studying together for a chemistry final and you're weirdly clumsy. somehow you always doze off and your pen falls out of reach! it's not her fault... you are wearing something that barely covers your ass.

loser! ellie who visits your dorm room for the first time. she's in awe seeing how pink is the only color she can see, as well as the concerning amount of stuffed animals covering your twin sized bed. she wonders if you've ever used one of them to get yourself off, wetness pooling between her thighs when she imagines you humping one of your ridiculously large bears. she thinks she spots a stain on the stomach of it, but she can't tell.

loser! ellie who steals your favorite panties, pink cotton decorated with pretty white lace on the top and bottom — a pink ribbon right in the middle. you're digging through your dresser for a top when she stuffs it in her pocket. you didn't notice pulling out one of your undergarments, carelessly leaving it on the floor. you're completely oblivious. once ellie got back to her room that evening, she gags herself with it and touches herself until she cums all over her fingers, moaning your name around your panties.

loser! ellie who secretly takes pictures of you when she stays the night. you always wear a cute little tank top, and because you move around a lot in your sleep, your tits are barely covered by the time you've settled. what else is she supposed to do? you just look so pretty, unconscious and unaware. your body is on display for her and just her. she doesn't know how many times she's fucked herself to those pictures, overstimulating herself until she cries.

loser! ellie who purposely runs into you anywhere on campus. you're grabbing a quick coffee? she couldn't sleep the night before and can't stay awake, she needs a coffee too! on your way to student support? she suddenly needs to speak to someone about her classes. ellie needs to see you at least once a day for her to feel good. she gets carried away sometimes and finds herself following you to your classes, almost missing hers.

loser! ellie who is asked to help zip up your dress. her cheeks flush with a bright pink at the request. she's so close to your skin, and she can properly see your lacy pink bra on your back. she wonders if you're looking for the missing pair... oh well, hers now. the color matches your skin perfectly, and ellie can't help but stare for a few moments before slowly running the zip up the tightly fitted dress. her hands linger on the clothing before pulling away.

loser! ellie who doesn't know what to say when you confront her about her behavior. you've seen everything. her obvious glances at your ass, the pictures of your tits on her phone, the fact that she's always somehow around you no matter where you are. she goes dizzy when you confess you've been acting this way on purpose. you lean over to her ear, your chest pressed against her body. "els, you're such a perv... you wanna fuck me, don't you?"

[darkmatilda]

𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I’ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was. 

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

[sunsburns]

honestly i feel like joaquin gives best friends to lovers vibes. and the moment you realize he likes you (meanwhile you've liked him for years) is gonna be in the middle of one of those heated arguments you have with each other bc he's jealous of the new guy you're seeing but one of you is stubborn and doesn't wanna admit it. idk if this counts as a request but if you like the idea i'd love to see you write something abt it!!

yes yes! i feel like it would be even better if the two of you had been working together for soo long too. like you’re in the middle of a stakeout or a mission and he’s suddenly bringing it up for the first time, trying to be all suave and subtle and you’re like ????

the stakeout had been dragging for hours.

the two of you were stationed in an unmarked van on a dimly lit street, watching the back entrance of an old warehouse where your target was supposed to show. you and joaquín torres had done plenty of missions like this before—long hours, bad takeout, and enough banter to keep you both from losing it.

except this time, he wasn’t talking.

not really, anyway. he was pretending to be busy, fiddling with the comms setup even if it had already been working fine since the start of the op.

the van was cramped, parked just far enough from the target building to stay out of sight. the only light inside comes from the dim glow of yours tablet and the occasional flicker of streetlights through the tinted windows.

and then, out of nowhere—

“you never did tell me how your date went last week.”

you barely heard him over the quiet hum of the surveillance feed. your attention is fixed on the warehouse across the street, waiting for movement, but his words pull you out of it.

you glance over, catching him looking away the second you do. subtlety had never been his strong suit.

“i didn’t think you’d want to know,” you said, testing the waters.

“of course i do.”

something in his voice made you pause. it wasn’t the usual teasing or lighthearted prodding—it was earnest. which was odd, considering the first time you brought it up there had been no jokes and joaquín had not been this curious. if anything, he’d gone uncharacteristically quiet, then changed the subject entirely.

but you’d brushed it off at the time.

still, you decide to humour him. “it went well.”

silence. then the soft creak of leather as he shifts in his seat.

“so, is there a second date coming?”

the casual tone didn’t fool you.

you smiled, mostly to yourself. “maybe.”

you expect some kind of quip, a halfhearted joke to brush it off. but you didn’t miss the way his jaw tightened, how his fingers flexed against his knee.

for someone who was an expert at recon, joaquín was terrible at hiding his tells. always had been. every thought he had crossed his face before he could stop it, which is why you’ve never had to second-guess him.

but that? that was weird.

“why? do you care?” you ask, turning slightly toward him.

“i don’t,” he said too quickly. “just wondering if i gotta learn this guy’s name or not.”

your smile grew wider. “oh? so you do care.”

he finally looked at you, “that’s not what i—“ he exhaled sharply. “forget it.”

you couldn’t.

you studied him for a moment, the furrow in his brow, the slight clench of his jaw. this was the longest conversation you’ve had outside of mission chatter in a week. and now he suddenly wanted to know about your love life?

“joaquín,” you started, voice slower now. “if there’s something you wanna say—“

“i only care when it affects our work.”

that made you bristle. “oh. am i too distracted for you?”

“that’s not what i said.”

“it’s exactly what you said.” you turned toward him fully now, forgetting about the stakeout for a second. “you didn’t have a problem last week when i was watching your six, but suddenly i go on a date and now i’m not focused enough for you?”

“that’s not—“ he stopped himself, dragging a hand down his face. “tu—you’re impossible.”

“like you’re any better,” you fired back. “you’ve been acting weird ever since i mentioned this guy, and now you’re bringing it up in the middle of a mission like it’s relevant intel? what’s your deal, torres? what’s going on? what are you trying to say?”

he pressed his lips together, clearly debating something. you knew him well enough to see the war happening behind his eyes, the push and pull of something he'd been trying to keep locked down.

“i’m not—i’m not trying to say anything,” he muttered.

your eyes narrowed. “bullshit.”

his lips curled into something sour, “i don’t get you sometimes.” his voice was lower now, “you’ll pick up on the smallest details in the field, but when it comes to this?” he gestured vaguely between the two of you, frustrated, “it’s like you’re choosing not to see it.”

that stopped you cold.

because for a second—for one stupid, fleeting second—you let yourself think about it. really think about it.

like the way joaquín always made sure you had the last protein bar on long missions, even if it meant going without. or the way he always covered your blind spots in a fight, positioning himself between you and danger without hesitation. the way his voice changed when he spoke to you, softening in a way it never did for anyone else.

the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention.

god.

your stomach twisted. you had spent so long convincing yourself that none of it meant anything. that it was just who he was—loyal, protective, a damn good partner. that was the only way you had managed to push your feelings down, to keep yourself from ruining what you had with him.

because the truth?

you had been in love with joaquín torres for years.

and it had been eating you alive.

the only reason you had gone out with someone else at all was because you had needed to move on. you couldn’t keep wanting something that wasn’t yours. couldn’t keep looking at him like he hung the damn moon when he was always just out of reach.

but now—now—he was looking at you like he was waiting for you to say something. like he wanted you to see it.

like maybe you hadn’t been crazy all along.

“joaquín.”

he just shook his head, frowning like he was mad at himself for even saying anything. “doesn’t matter.” the frustration drained from his voice, leaving behind something hollow. “forget i said anything.”

then he turned away like the conversation was over.

but it wasn’t.

because now, there was no taking it back.

and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to.

before you could respond, sam’s voice crackled over the comms.

“guys," he said, slow and unimpressed. “you do realize your mic is on, right?”

heat flooded your face.

joaquín scrambled to reach for the radio, red in the face. “sorry. must’ve turned it on by accident.”

“glad we’re getting some entertainment while we wait, sam continued, and you could almost see that grin on his face. “but unless you two wanna keep broadcasting your love confession to the team, maybe save it for after the mission?”