#I meant what I said grammarly

[razzygoat]

Yeah, man, those are decidedly not the same thing at all actually

[your-girl-mj]

hi darling! alright i was wondering like y'know when gwen said “in every other universe gwen stacy FALLS for spiderman. and in every other universe it doesn't end well.” and then i was wondering if you could do a fanfic where the reader is in danger and literally FALLS but at the end miles saved her

i got you. [1610!miles x f!reader]

summary: gwen stacy always falls for spiderman. at this case, [name] is miles' gwen stacy.

warning: sensitive content, fluff and maybe angst. bad grammar, missed spellings (grammarly is starting a villain era)

note: takes place where spot finally attacks miles' universe. she/her for reader, he/him for miles.

created: august 17, 2023

published: august 19, 2023

[earth-1610]

gwen and miles sat on the edge of the clock tower, gazing over the city upside down. "y'know, i heard from someone that gwen stacy is spiderman's true love." she started. it made miles to steal a glance at her, wanting to know what's she's implying. "and in your universe, i bet [name] is your gwen stacy." she throws him a teasing stare.

miles chuckled, looked back to the city—eyeing a spot where her neighbourhood is located. hoping that she's doing well, smiling softly at the spot "yeah, i guess you're right."

the way miles looked talking about his significant other made gwen feel some sort of guilt in her heart. "in every other universe, gwen stacy falls for spiderman..." her eyes flattered close, many deaths of her alternate version of her selves always made her shudder, "and in every other universe, it doesn't end well."

not understanding the meaning behind her words, miles could only give her a look of sympathy, thinking she meant about her other alternative selves.

[name] read a book, as she waited for miles to come back. she told his parents to keep him company and to talk about what happened earlier at the party, which made them let her go.

the girl could only pursue her lips when she saw the room empty with the window open. seeing an orange sweater by his bed, which she had never seen before, it made her confusion even deeper. [name] figured she'll ask miles once he comes back and fold the sweater by the foot of his bed.

as the [h.color] hair girl turned her page, she heard a series of laughers from outside the window, and one of them is her boyfriend's. miles poke his head in the window, checking if his parents are around, and the white outline of his mask squint into a happy expression as he sees her. "[nickname], hey!"

she was scooped in his arms before she could even greet him back, erupting a pit of giggles from her lips. "miles!" he sat her down to his bed, letting her pull off his mask, exposing a wide grin under it as he looked at her lovingly.

"miles! you know i'm not from around here, why did you lef— oh." a familiar looking stranger is standing near his window. her arms seem to be tacked by her side. it seems like she's almost uncomfortable in the being in the room. it made [name] look at her in questioning why she looked familiar.

"uh, hi!" was all gwen can utter. it feels wrong to see her like this and not limp like what she saw, she wants to start a conversation, but don't know how; she feels a small pit of guilt and blue down to her stomach.

"[name], this is gwen, one of the other spiderpeople i told you about!" realization hits her instantly, muttering an understanding noise. a bright smile tug her lips.

"hi, i'm [name] [last name]. i knew i've seen you before. it's nice to finally meet you!" thrusting a hand, gwen shook it as she took her mask off. the gap in her teeth is seen as a timid smile plastered in her features.

"nice to meet you too! have we met before?" she asked, thinking a reason why [name] said she looked familiar.

"can i tell her about the sketchbook?" the girl whispered to miles, smiling sheepishly at her boyfriend, yet gwen heard every word. she found it adorable how sweet they interacted, the horrible feeling is coming back once again.

"sure, she already saw it, though." gwen snorted at miles' words, thinking back how he tried to take the sketchbook from her. her look soften as [name]'s beam get wider, and took gwen's sweater from the bed and gave it to her.

she hook her arms with spiderwoman as they walked to the living room, chatting away. happy to have a female friend to be with.

"i knew you look familiar, i saw you once at his drawings. he really misses you guys, y'know." [name]'s muffled voice can be heard through the walls. th

"yeah, i missed him too. speaking of his drawings, i saw a lot of your face in there," miles could only shake his head at them as he put on his jacket, a smile is present.

unknown to what gwen is truly feeling at the moment.

—

[spider-society]

"[name] is my gwen stacy." miles repeated the phrase from hours ago, as he looked at gwen. betrayal is seen in his features, that made spiderwoman turn away from his eyes. "you knew about this."

it feels like the world is crumbling as he learned his girlfriend's death. falling to her death in three days, worst of it he saw it— he saw it in a vison spot gave him. witnessing her body go limp made his body lost its soul.

and knowing that gwen knew about it and she acted like nothing is wrong when she and [name] interact, made him feel almost sick.

"miles, i tried to tell you.." gwen's voice trailed as miles turn away from her, a lump build in her throat. gwen feels disappointed to herself when she didn't have the courage to tell him let alone, her. as the two girls talk, the gloomy feeling is started to consume her more and more. "i know you wanted to want to save her, i do too! but—"

"but it's her fate." miguel interrupted, hands on his hips as he gave miles a blank stare, "you can't mess up what's the universe has set for her."

no. miles can't have that, he needs to go home. now.

—

[spot's ambush]

everything was out of control, ever since he came back to his world.

civilians panicking, scattered around to find shelter; a safe place to avoid the chaos. other spiders did their very best to keep them safe while some fought for the fate of the universe. spot is destroying earth-1610. his home.

he spent too much time in earth-42, it feels like he's running out of time.

everything was a blur, high pitch rang in his ear as he particularly searched high and low for her. for [name]. panic is starting to bubble up, it's slowly eating him up.

"miles!" faint voice in the crowd is heard, he search for it spinning in circles before his eyes caught sight of her. "miles!" her hands are stretching out reaching for him as she run towards his direction.

[name] almost lost her footing as miles dives into her, embracing her real to him, mumbling something in a relief voice she doesn't seem to catch. she hugged up just as much, kissing the side of his mask.

"are you— are you okay? y'alright? p-please tell me you're alright—!" miles blurbs out, stuttering over his sentences. his eyes was swift as he scan all over her body, she have few small scratches that he should be treating to not get infected. he's too paranoid to think straight.

"miles!" she called out again, the warmness of her palm made him realised she cup his cheeks to make him look at her. "i'm okay! I'm doing just fine. are you alright? oh, baby... " it was the same [e.color] eyes that he swore he could get loss in every single time.

[name] craddle him in worry, he have a huge gash on his shoulder, his suit is ruin, blood is spilling from his wounds. "we need to get out of here," she starting pulling his arm with her, guiding him to the a much safer area.

"no, mi vida." miles stayed in his position, making his girl spun to him in worry, "you have to get out of here. gwen is with mom and dad, if peter or hobie fin9pld you in the crowd they'll take you with th—"

"what about you?" she breaths heavily, "i can't leave you, the other spiders can handle it, you need to be patch up." [name] knew reasoning with him won't change his mind about fighting, but his next answer wasn't what she expected.

"he's here for me. for you." he blurbs out, hold her firmly by her arms. panic is still present to both of their bodies. "we're the one he's after and i can't—" he paused, white like eyes on his mask widening in alert.

"mile—" he pushed her behind him, arms out ready to fight. her hands gall to his shoulders.

"oh would look at that." a new voice called out, a black figure floats from the ground, hovering over them. white spots are all over his body, it seems to be glitching. portals opening and closing behind him. "that's real sweet." the figure commented, pointing a finger on the two.

"what is that?" [name] thought out loud, she'd seen mutants before in the news that spiderman capture, but this one. she never seen anything like it, or figure out what it is.

the figure snap its head to look at her. that one big white circle in his face is moving. it feels like her soul is being sucked in.

"what am i?" he taunts, tilting his head at them. it feels like the world as stopped, as the villian focus on the two. "well, let me tell you."

the black figure hovers forward to them, miles backing up, causing the villain to make a portal on the ground to stop them. [name] squeal as she almost lost balance.

the portal shows the top of the clock tower, the tower that is all familiar to miles. the one where he hang out with gwen upside down.

"i'm the one who spiderman thinks a joke," his head glitched, ticking into its place. drawing more and closer to the couple. "i'm gonna show you i'm no joke." the figure thrust his hand forward, attempting to grab [name], but miles was quick to move a punch. too angry to think the spot can lay a single finger on his girl.

sadly, the villain caught up to him and made a portal to in his face. miles punched himself that was hard enough to made him feel a concussion coming.

he punch too hard thinking that the fist wasn't for him. miles lose his balance, leaning into [name] a bit — big mistake.

"wait no, no, no, no!" [name] lose a footing as his weight drops on her chest a bit, she screams as she falls from the sky to the top of the building. she hugged miles tighter into her.

her scream causes miles to snap out of his pain, he was quick to shoot a web by the side of the tower. panting as he held the two of them two together.

"are you okay? you got scratched or anything, tesoro?" her arms are wrapped around his neck as her legs clang by his waist, mimicking a koala. his arm have a dense grip by her waist, their forehead rest on the other. [treasure]

"i'm alright, what about you?" she caressing the side of his neck, looking at him with scared and worried stare.

miles only sighed, peaking her forehead through his mask, he did his best to climb up till they're the top. letting her rest for a bit, calming her down.

yet, it was the calm before the storm. spot once again appeared before them. to make matters worse, the sky was getting darker and darker. "i'm the spot. and i'm your mortal enemy, spiderman." spot started, [name] can feel her heart dropping deeper as the black figure getting closer and closer to them.

"look, man. the collider did this to you, i didn't make you like this!" miles desperately tried to explain, getting infront of [name] shielding her from the villain. "and she has nothing to do with this!"

"i know." spot paused, looking almost expressionless. "but every villain has to take away one of the heroes' loved ones, and i happen to get her first."

a bus appeared in front of them, almost crashing the two. miles swift swept her off her feet, climbing to the top of the tower. the glass roof made her feel a little nauseous by how deep the bottom looked from up there. "i need to get you out of here," miles muttered to her, he was look all over the place. his senses are highten up, so much so that he can hear her loud and fast heart rate.

a mail box was dropped from the top of the two, spiderman easily dart it as it was aimed badly at them.

but to his horror, he saw the glass beneath [name] cracked and let her fall inside the tower with a bloody murdered scream. "no!" miles exclaimed.

"oh, there she goes." spot said, witnessing the scene from below him.

miles dived to the hole, his eyes fixed on her and only her. he expertly dogde the portals spot made for him in order to not save her. words of miguel and the others rang in his head as his eyes only meet hers, and nothing else.

"[name] is your gwen stacy." did the other spidermans experience this too? too late to save her. living while the guilt and burden lie heavily in their chest.

"its her fate." is there nothing he can do? he can possibly do? he wants to live his life it her. he doesn't want to end it like this. no, please. please.

glass shard was falling with them as well. her arms were stretched to reach him. it feels like everything was in slow motion. her life flashes right through her eyes; and worst of it, miles can see it as well. she doesn't know how long she's been falling. she hates how she's gonna die, just like this.

their hands touched.

even when it was only a millisecond, miles already have an iron grip on her hand hard and shot a web by one of the flatforms inside the tower. her feet only inches from the ground.

the couple feel water works burst in their eyes, too relief about their miracle. "i got you, it's okay, you're okay. you're okay, amor." miles chanted as he pulled her up to him.

her hand landed on his chest, briefly feeling his rapid heart and embracing him tightly. she was at her final point that she cried in his neck, scared about her life just a second ago.

she cried, thinking that was her final moments with life and she'll never see him again.

she cried, relieved that she's with him. alive. and being craddle in his arms.

miles gently landed at the bottom of the clock tower, he have her envelope in his arms. he took off his mask as he couldn't calm his own breath. he feels his legs give up and kneel on the ground with her still in close to him.

she's not letting go. and neither does he.

"i thought i was gonna die..." she sobbed, her shoulders shudder as a hiccup coming up her throat.

me too... he thought. miles gave her head a peak, "i got you, tesoro. i got you." [treasure]

this is my first ever request that i posted. im not usually do request but i have an idea about this one, so why not write it, yeah?

anyway, thank you for reading! comments ans reblogs are deeply appreciated <33

[billybob598]

Hey I was thinking of a FWB with either Alexia Putellas or Ona Batlle ( doesn’t have to be smut if you’re not comfortable) where they’ve been fwb for a few months and the reader and one of them have a crush on each other. One day, one of the ( reader or one of them ) confesses their feelings than they start dating!!!

Sorry if this is bad I’m horrible at making requests!

Have a wonderful day!!

Friends With Consequences (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

So, thanks to the anon who sent this in! I've got like 5 or 6 more requests I'm gonna try and do this week sooo yeahh... Also big shout out to Grammarly for correcting all 999999 writing mistakes I made in this one. Again any feedback good or bad welcomed! Have fun reading!

Word Count: 1.7k (Boom)

As you stare longingly at Alexia, your thoughts wander to the current predicament you’re in. You and Alexia had been friends with benefits for a couple of months. At first, it was just the consequence of a night with a few too many drinks in it. Then, it was celebrating Barca winning the league (again). After three “one time only” nights, both of you knew there was a little something more. That’s when Alexia came up with the brilliant idea of friends with benefits. Alexia also came up with the idea that there would be no strings attached, no caught feelings, you guys would be fuck buddies and teammates, nothing more. If one of you called upon the other, they would be there, but the next day there would be no bringing up what happened the night before. Sure, you liked her as more than a friend, but anything to keep her in your life while also having a little taste of what it’s like to be with Alexia.

As you guys started preparing for the World Cup you would usually be excited, however, with the Spanish teams' current state a.k.a Jorge Vilda you weren’t nearly as excited as you should be. Jorge was being quite hard on players part of the “Las 15” that had come back. While you didn’t take part in the rejection of call-ups, you openly supported your teammates. 

As the tournament progressed, you tried your best to keep a distance from Alexia. Not that she noticed, she was under so much pressure from the media, fans, and Jorge. It didn’t help that her knee had started to bother her during the group stage. The team, despite all off-field events, had been performing well. You guys cruised through the group stage, finishing top of the group. Unfortunately, Spain lost in the quarterfinals. Everyone was heartbroken, and of course, Vilda was not very happy. After the game, Vilda said some terrible, terrible things to the team and you specifically. You had not played your best game ever, but for him to blame it all on you? It made Alexia’s blood boil. 

Throughout the tournament, Alexia realized just how much you meant to her. She was able to admit that you were important to her. She, however, refused to believe that her care for you ran deeper than just friends, who occasionally fucked. So, as the new season at Barca began the two of you kept your current relationship the same. You knew you were in love with Alexia, at this point, there was no denying it. Alexia, on the other hand, kept denying and denying her feelings for you. 

“So, how’s it going Alexia?” Ingrid asks. She was probably your best friend on the team and the only one who knew about your current situation.

You sigh, “I don’t know Ingrid, every time I feel like she likes me back she goes and says something about how she thinks the friends-with-benefits idea is perfect for us. Or as soon as I think that I might have a shot with her, she’s talking about her latest match on some dating site.” 

It was no secret that Alexia was on multiple dating apps. She was always going on dates with different people, it seemed none of them ever stuck for more than two or three dates. It bothered you to no end, here you were ready to do anything for Alexia, willing to drop everything if she ever called, yet you know she wouldn’t do the same for you. 

“Well, maybe just give her signs that you like her and want to be more than just friends with benefits,” the Norwegian suggests.

“Signs? What does that mean?”

“Doing things for her, to you know, show her that you care for her in a different way than friends.”

You think about it for a couple of seconds, “So just like, be extra nice to her?”

“Yeah, basically,” Ingrid says with a shrug. You nod. You can do that. That’s easy, just show her that you care about her.

Over the next couple weeks, you did everything you and Ingrid could think of to show Alexia you like her. Bringing her coffee in the mornings, her favourite candies left at her locker, buying her food whenever the team ate out, anything you could do you did. It was so obvious that even some of the rest of the team started to pick up on it.

“Why don’t you ever buy me coffee, Y/N?” Mapi whines with a cheeky grin. One that quickly disappears after receiving a sharp glare from her girlfriend. You turn red before stuttering out a comeback,

“I don’t know Mapi, but maybe you should think about your girlfriend before asking other women to buy you coffee.” The look of true fear that crosses Mapi’s face is enough to distract the rest of the team enough for you to slip out of the locker room and onto the pitch. 

“So you really like her, huh?” You are startled by the voice, thinking you were the only one out here. When you turn around you’re met with Keira giving you a soft smile. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you say quickly, hoping to avoid the question.

“So?”

“So what?” You try to play dumb.

“Do you like Alexia? And don’t try to lie Y/N,” Keira asks, pushing you to tell her.

“I think I love her if I’m being honest. She’s in my head 24/7, I can’t stop thinking about her,” you admit shyly.

“Then why not tell her that?” 

“I’m scared. What happens if I ask her out and she says no? I think I would have to move clubs,” you say in a joking tone, but both you and Keira know it wasn’t a joke. She looks at you sympathetically,

“Let’s say that does happen, you get that initial embarrassment over with and then you start getting over her. I know it doesn’t seem like it now, but if she rejects you there will be other people. It’s not like she’s your only chance at love, mate.” 

You ponder over her words for a bit before speaking, “I guess you’re right, I should ask her out. Should I ask her out? I shouldn’t ask her out.” Your mind races, then Keira puts her hands on your shoulders and gives you a look. “Okay, I’ll go ask her out.” You walk away feeling nervous and confident at the same time if that’s possible.

As you approach Alexia’s door you feel nervous as hell. The second you knock on it you know there is no going back. So, when she opens the door and sees you, fidgeting with the flowers in your hands, you want to immediately run away. At this point, though, you have to see it through, no chickening out now. 

“Hey Ale,” you can’t keep the nervousness out of your voice.

“Hey Y/N, what’s up?” She senses your nerves and takes hold of your hand to try and calm you down. Smiling at the contact you take a breath before spitting it out,

“Wouldyouliketogoonadatewithme?” Confused, Alexia asks you to repeat what you said. You sigh and say slower,

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You then hold your breath, as Alexia processes what you said. Then, an expression comes across her face that you can’t quite explain, it’s almost a look as if she’s in pain and then apologetic. 

“Uhm, Y/N, I’m really sorry…” She trails off. When you get the gist of what’s saying, your shoulders slump and your face heats up with embarrassment.

“Yeah, no that’s okay. Don’t worry about it, Ale.”

“I’m really sorry, I just don’t like you like that,” she says feeling worse and worse every passing second.

“I get it, anyways these are for you,” reaching out and giving her the bouquet of flowers you were holding before turning and walking away, head hanging low. 

Alexia couldn’t keep her mind off of you for the next couple of days. Anytime she saw you in training she would try and catch your eye. It seemed, though, that you were determined not to speak to or even make eye contact with her. The entire team saw it, how you slowly cut yourself off from everyone, how you refused to come to team bonding nights, how you stopped going out with the team. For you it became, go to training and go home, nothing more. You had always been relatively quiet, but you didn’t even speak to anyone unless you were on the pitch. This concerned everyone, and Alexia couldn’t help but feel responsible for you isolating yourself. It was also around this time that Alexia started feeling like she made a mistake. Every date she went on she would always imagine that it was you across from her. That you were the one holding her hand and kissing her. So, as the January transfer officially opened, Alexia decided she was going to ask you out.

She originally planned to catch you after training, but you weren’t there. When she asked Ingrid about you the Norwegian just shrugged and said she hadn’t heard from you and that you probably were just not feeling well or something. Now, as Alexia walked up the stairs to your apartment she took note of how nothing was hanging off your front door. Usually, you had some sort of wreath or decoration hanging, she shook it off and put it down as you just forgot to put a new one up after Christmas. She knocked and stood waiting for a couple of seconds. That’s when she saw that your door was slightly ajar. She slowly pushed it open,

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Fully entering the apartment, she let out a gasp. It was completely bare, with nothing more than a couple of boxes and trash bags left. At that exact moment, she got a notification from Instagram. Tapping on it, her heart sank as she saw the post on your account announcing your transfer to Bayern Munich.

Alexia sank to her knees and started sobbing uncontrollably.

Hope you enjoyed this one! Do we want a part 2?

[alinawritess]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐥𝐝 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 ❀

❀ pairing. Vinnie Hacker x fem!reader x Matt Sturniolo

❀ synopsis. Four years ago, Vinnie and you, were once deeply in love, but had to part ways as both your skyrocketing careers in Hollywood and LA strained your long-distance relationship. The breakup was heartbreaking, leaving Vinnie with unresolved feelings. Now, at a glamorous Hollywood party, he unexpectedly encounters you, his former flame, who is now with the charismatic YouTube star Matt Sturniolo. As old emotions resurface, their polite yet charged interaction hints at unresolved tension and nostalgia.

❀ word count. 3.2k

❀ warning(s). Heartbreak┆︎ Emotional Distress ┆︎ Long-Distance Relationship Challenges ┆︎ Regret┆︎ Unresolved Feelings ┆︎ Nostalgia┆︎ Emotional Vulnerability┆︎ No Use of Y/N.

❀ authors note. Was I high writing this? very much so! (who knew what 4 Advil pills can do to a girl) ┆︎ If there are any spelling mistakes- blame Grammarly, girly was supposed to fix them!

Four Years Ago

Vinnie and you had been together for two wonderful years, just starting out in the influencer industry. Nobody really knew you two were dating; it was something private, a decision both of you had made. People and fans knew you were both seeing someone, but they just didn't know who. Your relationship felt like a perfect fit, filled with love and understanding.

Today, as you come through the apartment doors, exhaustion is written all over your face after a long day of practicing your lines for your upcoming movie. The filming is in Hollywood, and you haven't figured out how to tell your beloved partner that maybe you should take a break while you're filming. After all, he had his days where he seemed busy too. To say that your relationship was perfect would be a lie; recently, both of you had been busy with your hectic schedules, barely having time for one another.

As you walk through the door of your shared apartment, Vinnie looks up upon hearing it open.

"Hi, love," he greets you with a smile.

"Hi, Mr. Hacker," you say, playfully using a new nickname.

Vinnie chuckles. "That's a new nickname. Not really your style to be calling me by nicknames," he adds.

He walks up to you and gently wraps his arms around your sides, but you pull back slightly. "Do you hate it?" you tease lightly.

"I never said that," he says, planting a kiss on your forehead. "So, what's on your mind today, my love?" he asks, seeing your hands fidget and sensing your distracted thoughts. He truly knew how to read you like an open book, understanding your every emotion.

"We need to talk," you say, slipping from his embrace. Vinnie's teasing expression fades into worry and concern.

"A talk? Is something wrong, love?" he asks.

"I feel like we're not on the same page in life as we used to be," you say, your voice tinged with concern.

Vinnie's expression becomes gentler. He lifts his hand to gently caress your face. "Oh, love... What makes you think that?"

"You've been pretty distant with band things and photoshoots," you explain, "and I guess we only see each other once or twice a week. None of us have even brought it up; it's like we don't care that our schedules mess our relationship up and we don't even try to fix it or talk about it. Every time we do see each other, we just act like we're some perfect couple, like nothing's tearing us apart beneath the surface."

Vinnie takes a deep breath and nods, understanding what you mean. "You're right... I've been distracted with band stuff and photoshoots. I never meant to make you feel like I was neglecting you. I'm so sorry," he apologizes sincerely, his voice quiet and gentle.

"It's fine," you reassure him. "I'm not saying stop chasing your dreams. Go for it. But what if we took a break?"

"A break? You mean from the relationship?" Vinnie's voice is barely a whisper, his expression one of heartbreak.

"Yeah..." you hesitate. "You know, maybe try things, chase our dreams."

Vinnie stands frozen, his wide eyes looking at you with disbelief. He clearly wasn't prepared for this conversation.

"You... want us to break up?" he asks, his voice cracking.

"Kinda," you admit. "Maybe you'll finally be the model or singer you want to be. Maybe your band will finally hit the top 100 charts, maybe even number one. And maybe, just maybe, I can be on TV."

Vinnie's expression falls even more, and his eyes plead with you. "But what about us? What about what we have? We're good together, aren't we?"

"We are, but the truth is we've been so distant from each other. We barely have enough time for this relationship," you explain. "I'm going to be in Hollywood for a while for my upcoming movie, and you're going to be in LA. Is it truly going to work?"

Vinnie's jaw clenches tightly in disappointment, tears welling up in his eyes. "But... I love you," he whispers quietly, almost like he wanted you to hear him but not at all at the same time.

"I thought... you loved me like I loved you," he continues, and now tears roll down his face. "But I guess I was wrong... I'm sorry I wasn't enough for you..."

"Vinnie, it's not like that, you know it," you say softly, trying to comfort him.

"I really don't," he chokes out, shaking his head. "How can you just throw away everything we had? What's wrong with me that you don't love me anymore?" He lifts his palms to his face and scrubs away his tears, though they keep spilling out in endless waterfalls.

"I never said I don't love you," you clarify, "I just don't think I can do long distance."

"So... this means I'll never get to hold you again? Or touch you? Or kiss you? Or hear your laughter and jokes that make my day?" Vinnie's voice cracks as he struggles to hold back his tears.

"I don't know, Vinnie," you admit, tears welling up in your own eyes, "I don't know what the future holds. I know because of this movie role, I'm going to be away for a long time."

Vinnie nods slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of sorrow and acceptance. "Yeah... long distance is tough. I'm just scared of what happens if you... you know... find someone new while you're away?"

"If I come back and we both have the same feelings for one another, maybe we could be... maybe," you suggest tentatively.

He nods ever so slightly again. "I guess this is it then," he whispers, his voice cracking as he struggles to speak. "But... can we at least have one final kiss? To cherish this moment and keep it forever?"

"How about a hug? A kiss would feel too intimate, don't you think?" you suggest.

"Yeah... a hug," he chokes out. Vinnie steps forward and wraps his arms around you in a firm embrace. He buries his face in your hair, his whole body trembling as he fights away tears.

"I'm sorry," you say softly, tears streaming down your face.

"No, I'm the one who's sorry I wasn't what you needed," he whispers, his voice cracking once more. "I loved you so much, and I promise I always will. I hope you find everything you're looking for."

"I hope you do too," you whisper back.

He holds you tightly for a few more moments, the embrace feeling like a bittersweet mixture of love and pain.

Eventually, he releases you, his expression a mix of sadness and acceptance. "Goodbye, my love..."

"Bye, Vin," you say softly.

Vinnie slowly walks towards the door and opens it, pausing for a moment to look back at you one final time. His tear-filled eyes meet yours for a few seconds before he steps out the door, disappearing into the unknown.

Present Day

Four years had passed since you and Vinnie had gone your separate ways, but the memories of your time together still lingered like ghosts from the past. You found yourself at a lavish Hollywood party, surrounded by the elite and celebrities, trying to navigate through the crowd with Matt Sturniolo, your new boyfriend. Matt was introducing you to various people, his hand possessively on your back as you made your way through the crowd.

Amidst the glamorous chaos, you spotted a familiar face—the one you thought you'd never see again. Vinnie stood out among the Hollywood elite, his charismatic presence and undeniable good looks drawing attention wherever he went. He was surrounded by people, laughing at his jokes and eagerly listening to his stories. It was clear he was thriving in the industry.

As if sensing your gaze, Vinnie glanced up and briefly met your eyes. For a moment, time seemed to freeze as memories flooded your mind. But all too quickly, he tore his gaze away and continued chatting with his entourage, as if nothing had happened.

Matt brought you in front of Vinnie, and you had to muster all your strength to act as if this was your first time meeting. Your eyes locked onto Vinnie's, and you could see a flicker of recognition in his gaze, but he played along.

"Hey, nice to meet you," he said smoothly, offering a polite smile and extending his hand for a handshake.

You politely declined Vinnie's handshake, keeping your hand firmly clasped with Matt's as he introduced you as his girlfriend. Vinnie glanced at your intertwined hands, a subtle flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he quickly masked it with a neutral expression.

"Ah, got yourself a nice catch, Matt," Vinnie joked, his voice casual but his eyes betraying a hint of envy. He gave Matt's hand a firm shake before turning his attention to you. "Congratulations to you both."

As the conversation continued, Vinnie tried his best to maintain his composure, engaging in small talk with you both. But beneath the surface, he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing and regret. He had lost you, and now, seeing you happy with someone else hurt more than he had anticipated.

Matt turned to Vinnie and asked, "So, have you found yourself a special someone yet, Vinnie?"

Vinnie chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a hint of humor. "Oh, you know me, Matt, always the bachelor. Haven't found the right person to settle down with yet."

"Ever did?" Matt asked.

"Well, there was one person," Vinnie admitted, his voice quieter, the hint of a smile playing on his lips. "We had something special, but life took us down different paths. Sometimes, I wonder if what we had could've been something more."

"What happened?" Matt asked, as you looked away, clenching your hand tighter around Matt's.

"We both had dreams and aspirations," Vinnie explained, his expression tinged with a hint of sadness. "I was focused on my music career, and she wanted to pursue her dreams in Hollywood. We tried to make it work, but the distance and our conflicting schedules made it challenging. In the end, we had to make a choice to follow our own paths."

"So, did you find what you were searching for, and did you ever see her again?" Matt asked.

"After her, I've had a few relationships here and there, but none quite like ours," Vinnie mused. "As for her, our paths have crossed at a few parties or events over the years, but we've kept our distance. Maybe one day, fate will bring us back together."

"It was nice chatting with you both," Vinnie said, his tone laced with a hint of sorrow mixed with acceptance. "Enjoy the party."

Matt nodded in agreement, expressing his parting greetings as well, and gently led you away to find a quieter spot for that much-needed breather. As you walked away, Vinnie found himself lost in his thoughts, unable to shake off the bittersweet memories of what once was. He took a deep breath and pushed the past aside, plastering a smile on his face as he turned back to the party, trying to revel in the present instead.

The rest of the evening passed by in a blur for Vinnie, his mind preoccupied with the unexpected encounter. Seeing you with another man had stirred up a myriad of emotions within him, forcing him to confront the lingering feelings he still harbored deep down. He tried to engage in conversations and interactions, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you, the one who once loved him. As the party drew to a close, Vinnie felt a sense of relief mixed with a bittersweet tinge. He knew that seeing you tonight had only served to reopen old wounds. As he made his way out of the venue, he couldn't help but wonder if fate would ever bring the two of you together again.

Sitting on the steps in your black dress, you wondered what was taking Matt so long. He had told you to meet him outside, but he still hadn't appeared. You contemplated whether you should go back into the party and search for him, even though everyone appeared happy in front of you, things were going wrong inside their relationship. As you looked up from the steps, there he was, looking down at you—an old love.

"Hey," he greeted softly, his voice tinged with both warmth and hesitation. "Mind if I join you?"

"Go ahead," you replied, a hint of bitterness in your voice. "It's not like my boyfriend is anywhere, and it's not like the spot's reserved."

Vinnie let out a small chuckle at your remark, sensing the hint of bitterness in your words. He took a seat beside you on the steps, respectfully leaving a little space between you two as he gazed out at the cityscape before you.

"It's nice out here," he commented softly, before adding, "Not much of a party person, are you?"

"Never was, even with you," you replied, a wistful tone in your voice. "But neither were you."

Vinnie smiled softly, the corner of his lip curving up in a bittersweet smile. "You're right, I never was much of a party person," he admitted, his gaze distant as he reminisced about the past. "I guess some things never change. Neither of us was meant for the Hollywood spotlight."

"I don't know about you, but I look great on the big screen," you said, trying to inject some lightness into the conversation.

Vinnie chuckled and nodded, his eyes gleaming with pride and admiration. "No doubt about it," he agreed. "You shine bright like a star on the big screen. It suits you. I always knew you were destined for greatness."

"Even if it caused our relationship to end," you said quietly, your voice tinged with regret.

Vinnie's expression turned solemn as he nodded slowly. "Yeah, the industry can be demanding," he admitted. "It took a toll on our relationship, on both of us. We had different dreams, different paths. Sometimes, I wonder what would have been if we had chosen differently."

"Like normal people with ordinary jobs," you added, a wistful tone in your voice.

Vinnie let out a deep sigh and nodded. "Sometimes I miss those simpler days," he confessed, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "Just the two of us, living life without the fame and the busy schedules. It was simpler, I guess. But who knows, maybe things happen for a reason."

"Maybe," you said softly, not entirely convinced. "Though I'm surprised there's no lovely woman by your side tonight."

Vinnie chuckled, a sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, I could have any woman I wanted," he joked, feigning confidence. "But maybe I'm just waiting for the right one to come along. Someone who appreciates the real me, not just the celebrity persona."

"You mean the anime nerd behind all that mystery," you teased, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Vinnie's laughter filled the air, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "You always knew me too well, didn't you?" he said, a hint of warmth in his voice. "Yeah, the big secret no one knows is that I'm just a regular anime nerd underneath the glitz and glamor."

"Wouldn't that be what we would have been doing right now, four years ago? Fighting over either Attack on Titan or Sailor Moon?" you mused.

Vinnie grinned wider, his eyes lighting up as the nostalgia washed over him. "Yeah, those endless debates over which anime is the best," he mused. "You and your love for Sailor Moon, and me passionately defending Attack on Titan. It was always a tie between us, wasn't it?"

"I don’t know, feel like I won most of those rounds," you said with a playful challenge.

Vinnie chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with playful mischief. "Maybe you won a few, but I still hold my ground that Attack on Titan is the superior anime," he quipped, a hint of a challenge in his voice. "I mean, come on, the story, the characters, the action – it's just unbeatable!"

"Come on, like you didn't drool over Captain Levi every time he was on the screen," Vinnie teased.

"Levi Ackerman, huh? Can't blame me there," you admitted, a playful shrug. "He's a hot badass, for sure. But let's be real, even he couldn't steal me away from you."

The light-hearted mood shifted suddenly as Matt's voice interjected, "Steal who from who?" cutting through the conversation like a gust of cold wind. Vinnie turned to face Matt, a flicker of surprise crossing his features.

"Baby, what took you so long?" you asked Matt, kissing him on the cheek as he pulled you closer to him.

Vinnie watched as you kissed Matt, a whirlwind of emotions stirring within him. He forced a strained smile, his eyes betraying a hint of jealousy and longing hidden beneath the surface.

"So, what were you talking about?" Matt asked.

"Just catching up with Vinnie. After all, we did work on that one music piece," you interjected.

"Yeah, just catching up on the old times," Vinnie managed to say, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. He cleared his throat, attempting to divert the conversation away from the awkward tension. "So, how's the industry treating you, Matt? Any exciting projects coming up?"

Matt talked about his YouTube channel and the one he shared with his triplet brothers, Nick and Chris, who appeared behind him. Chris gave you a pat on the shoulder, commenting on how lit the party was, joking that you'd be his sister-in-law soon if you kept up your relationship with his brother.

Vinnie nodded intently, listening to Matt's excitement about his growing success on YouTube. He managed a polite, encouraging smile despite the gnawing feeling of jealousy brewing within him. As Matt's brothers appeared behind him, their presence created an even more convoluted atmosphere, with Chris's comment about you being his future sister-in-law making things even more awkward.

Matt turned his head to you and Chris as he heard his comment and whispered, "Maybe one day, my love," kissing your cheek. But all you could think of at that moment was Vinnie as he stared at you. Matt's comment brought back memories for both of you, as "my love" was Vinnie's favorite nickname for you.

You remembered the first time he called you that name, back in high school. The wind was blowing hard, and the flowers had bloomed even though it was the first day of spring. You were supposed to meet at the botanical gardens for your first official date. As you tried to find where he was, a soft, comforting voice said, "Hi," tapping your shoulder and causing you to turn around. Before any word could come out of your mouth, he picked a leaf that had gotten stuck in your hair and spoke gently, "I think something got stuck in your hair, love." That was the first time anyone had called you that, and at that time, you really believed he would be the only one calling you it. Snapping out of your thoughts, you smiled softly at Matt to reassure him. Vinnie interrupted the moment, reminding Matt they were in the middle of a conversation.

"That's great to hear, man. I hope your channel keeps growing. You've got a long road ahead of you," Vinnie responded, his voice neutral despite the emotional turmoil roiling inside him. He tried to focus on the conversation, asking questions and engaging in small talk, but his thoughts kept circling back to you, the one who once loved him. As the conversation continued, Vinnie began to feel increasingly out of place, his presence becoming more of a hindrance than anything.

His mind raced, weighing the options for escape. Glancing around, he subtly scanned for a way out. Seeing an opportunity, Vinnie excused himself abruptly, offering a hasty excuse about finding the restroom or chatting with his manager—anything to leave this awkwardly tense situation.

"Take care Vin," you say as Vinnie passes by you once again.

"Thanks, you too," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of unresolved emotion as he walked away, leaving you to grapple with the memories and emotions that had resurfaced.

[ghostlynachopanda]

Hurtful Words

a/n: I tried angst so i put this one into Grammarly and it told me it was ass. I believe it, but I went through the effort of writing it so you get to suffer too. Here’s this one pals

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

words: 1.6k

~~~

Wednesday hadn't realized just how much you were integrated into her daily routine. She refused to acknowledge the feeling of loneliness that came with your absence. Wednesday was simply too prideful to admit it; and because of that, Wednesday was miserable.

She hadn't meant for those words to come out of her mouth — no, she didn't mean for them to affect you the way they did. You were supposed to be used to Wednesday's words, you were supposed to know she never meant you any harm. But the way her words were carved out of pure anger and hatred made it feel like it was directed only at you. That scared you.

After she had said those few sentences you walked out. You had originally planned to let her emotions settle before going back to talk to her — but the more you thought about going back the more those words echoed in your head. The longer you thought about what she had said the more your heart broke. So, you decided on the only logical thing you could think of, avoiding Wednesday Addams.

Wednesday knew. She knew what went wrong, knew she should outwardly apologize to you. However, she also knew she wasn't good with words or displaying emotions. So, she settled on showing you she was sorry.

The next morning Wednesday went to the cafeteria a little early, rehearsing things she could possibly say when you showed up. She was one of the first to go through the lines, grabbing the things she wants and grabbing the cereal you preferred. She sat in your usual spot, eyes trained on the entrance, waiting for you to walk in and come greet her so she could give you the cereal as an apology.

Wednesday was halfway through her food when she realized you were taking longer than usual to show up. You would've shown up by now, sending her a blinding smile before going to grab your own plate of food. She decided to eat slower, maybe she was just hungry. But, when people started filing out the doors to make their way to class she knew you weren't coming.

She threw the cereal out, went to grab a granola bar, and stuffed it into her bag. The walk to class was unbearably long. Normally, the silence would be filled by your voice talking about a dream you had or how you were excited about the class. Except, you weren't there.

Wednesday sat in her normal spot at the front of the classroom, once again eyeing the door. No one dared take the seat next to her. Everyone knew that spot belonged to you; it didn’t help that she glared at anyone who got too close.

You walked in close to when class was starting. Wednesday hates to admit she became livelier at the sight of you. She sat a little straighter and reached into her bag for the granola bar. When she glanced up, you were already walking past her to the spot next to Yoko. Leaving the seat next to her cold and empty.

Wednesday looked at you whenever she could. She wasn't shy about staring at you, but you never once looked in her direction. You were never diffident about meeting her gaze. It became obvious then that you were avoiding her.

When class ended she stood up and waited for you, as she does in every class. She silently hoped one class period was enough for you to come back. She was forced to watch you ignore her and walk out with Yoko.

From that point forward, Wednesday was painfully aware of your presence. Whether it be in class across the room or somewhere in the quad talking with your friends. She watched you from a distance, noticing how you seemed just a little downhearted but you masked it well. Because Wednesday was forced to watch from a distance she became increasingly aware of your absence.

Whenever Wednesday would catch sight of you with someone else she immediately noticed you weren't next to her. The feeling of loneliness and abandonment rapidly crept up her spine. The feeling continued to worsen when she would catch a glimpse of you with someone else.

Rationally, Wednesday knew you wouldn’t leave her without a proper discussion first. She knew you were mature enough to give her that. Even so, all these horrid thoughts rushed through her head. So much so that she felt like crying. Tears pricked at her eyes and she hated that.

So, Wednesday did the only thing she knew to do in these situations, she let those feelings morph into anger. Not towards you, just at the way you were making her feel, towards the people who are taking you away from her. She was determined to get this sorted out before the day ended; aware she let this situation fester for far too long.

In the following classes, she would stare daggers into those who were close to you. She watched, satisfied, as some did tuck their tails and turned the other way. The others, stubborn or oblivious, stuck with you like glue. So she waited for your free period to come, knowing no one else but she shared the period with you.

When class ended you, once again, ignored her. You could feel her heated stare on your back as you walked out. You knew she would follow you wherever you went, knew a discussion was coming sooner rather than later. The pounding of her footsteps behind you was loud and evident. Obviously, she's not trying to hide the fact she's following you. You sigh and take the time it took to walk to the library to fortify yourself.

 Wednesday watched as you walked to your favorite part of the library before stopping to settle down. She needed this to go well, to go the way she wanted. She might kill someone if it doesn’t.

"Come to yell at me again?" you start, finally bringing your eyes to meet her own.

"I didn't yell at you," she said, face stoic even when nervousness was bubbling in her chest.

"The tone you used says otherwise," your voice is cold, something Wednesday isn't accustomed to.

The intensity of your gaze makes her want to look away. Her lips part to speak but nothing comes out causing her lips to quiver slightly. The sight makes you want to take your words back. You stay silent though, waiting for her to say something.

"I didn't see you at breakfast," she says instead of addressing the elephant in the room.

You scoff, "Wasn't hungry,"

Your words make her look at her shoes. She was nervous, the coldness of your voice and gaze not helping. You huff, seeing the internal debate, and say, "Look Wednesday, I'm not alright with being your verbal punching bag. If you're not going to apologize then leave."

Your words make tears prick in her eyes. She clenched her jaw to stave them off, not wanting you to see how this affected her. As much as she wanted things to go back to normal, she couldn't voice her thoughts. She was starting to feel helpless. It was humiliating.

Wednesday reached into her bag to pull out the granola bar she got you. She looked at it for a moment before giving it to you.

You looked between her and the granola bar for a few seconds,

"What is this?"

"A granola bar"

 "Obviously, but why-"

"It's your favorite.." she trailed off, trying to keep her voice from cracking.

"You got me a granola bar as a peace offering?" you laughed humorlessly before continuing, "Unbelievable. Honestly, I'm impressed,"

She let your words wash over her. Silently wondering if this is what you felt last night.

"I apologize," she said so softly you almost missed it.

"you're sorry?"

"Yes... I know I'm not good at conveying emotions unless it's negative but," Wednesday's voice trails off again. Thinking through her next words carefully.

You're conscious of the fact this is difficult for her. Wednesday does refer to feelings as 'emotional morse code'. The silence is tense, almost unbearably so. You sigh,

"Wednesday listen-"

"No, let me-" she huffs, "I'm not good at this, I know that but-" she looks up at you with tears in her wide eyes.

"I am sorry, truly. I know I shouldn't have said those things, much less to you." Wednesday feels like there's barbwire wrapped around her throat. It's hard to speak, but seeing your eyes widen with understanding pushes her to keep going.

"But, you need to know I would never say those things to you. I would never intentionally hurt you. Not in any way." the raw emotion in her voice makes you want to wince. Having never heard her speak like that is almost enough to make you tear up.

You rush forward, wrapping her in a tight embrace. One she eagerly returns, still talking.

"You have to understand, tell me you understand. I can't-"

Wednesday is shaking, trying so hard to not let her tears fall. You guide her head into the crook of your neck, slightly calming her. The air is quiet, almost back to the comfort it was prior. You spoke up,

"It's alright-" her grip tightens on your jacket.

"No. It's not"

"You're right. What happened was not okay, but you apologized. Everything will be okay now."

"I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you" she whispered, bringing her head up to look at you for a moment, "If I ever do that again I want you to cut my tongue in two." she said, being completely serious.

You chuckle, "I don't think I'd do that"

Silence ensues, but this time it's comfortable. The embrace isn’t broken, it's something both of you desperately need.  

"I'm sorry" she whispers.

I know it’s sucks and I’m SORRY

tags: @alexkolax @rainbow-love4ever @o638 @tundra1029 @greyscxle-is-taken

[mountain-in-springtime]

somethin' stupid (like i love you)

pairing: sam x reader | word count: 5.3k | warnings: kissing, language, alcohol consumption | my masterlist

summary: you and sam have been best friends for years, but the presence of three little unsaid words could be enough to tear you apart.

author's note: Y'ALL this is my longest fic ever like what is happeningggg?? anyways, this fic is almost entirely unedited aside from whatever grammarly told me to fix lol but i love her anyways. i was unsure of how to format this, and i was kinda worried that it was corny, but i think i'm really happy with this one. it makes me so very soft. also it's based off of the song somethin' stupid, which is one of my songs of all time and is also linked below!

*******************************************************

The icy night air stung your cheeks as it whipped around you, making your hair tumble from its carefully done style, and you were sure that you would wake up with a cold in the morning with the way the weather turned you into a sniffling mess. You guessed it was partially your fault for not grabbing a jacket when you and Sam had snuck your way from the cramped, sweltering space of your high school gym, but in your defense, you hadn’t had a lot of time to think it over. You were laughing and dancing with one of your friends, swaying with giddy delight when you felt a hand grasp your own. After whipping around, you saw that it was your best friend, his expression pleading as he made his request.

“Let’s get out of here,” he had said, and you followed without a single question as to why. Next thing you knew, you were walking hand-in-hand down the empty streets, wandering aimlessly in silence. Occasionally, you would hear a quiet sniffle from him, and you couldn’t be sure if it was a product of the environment or something else entirely.

After many minutes of wordless strolling, the two of you came across a playground. Void of any of the childish giggles and shrieks it usually fosters, it was almost an eerie sight. Still, you went with Sam as he turned toward the old, rusty swing set. The seat creaked as he sat down, and the chain on yours squeaked as it gave with your weight. You turned to your friend, studying the serious expression he wore as he gazed downward and kicked the pebbles that littered the ground below him. 

“You okay?” you prompted, hoping for him to open up. He kept his eyes away from your own but held his hand out beside him. You reached your own out to him, and he linked his pinky with yours. It was a small gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by you. Even when he was hurting, Sam was sure to give you reassuring bits of affection, making it clear that it wasn’t you he was upset with.

“She dumped me,” he finally said after a long moment. His voice lacked any of its characteristic light, and his eyes stayed trained on the ground. The long waves of his thick hair hung like curtains that obscured his face from your view, something you figured he was grateful for. 

You sighed and reached out a sympathetic hand, resting it on his arm. “Oh, Sam,” you mumbled, “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” 

“I know. That’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you. I… couldn’t,” he answered, his voice quiet and strained. 

A moment of silence fell between you as you took in what he had said. “Why?” you finally asked, and you could feel the weight of the question hanging in the air the minute you uttered it. 

Sam let out a long sigh before answering. “Because… you never liked her anyway. I thought if I told you, you’d just rub it in my face that you were right.” 

His confession hit you like a ton of bricks as you say there, feeling like the biggest jerk in the world. “Oh, shit, Sam. I… I never meant to make you feel like that. I’m sorry,” you whispered, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he replied through a deep breath. You knew he could tell how bad you felt. Sam was always so in tune with your emotions, quick to lift you up when you were down, but in this moment, you couldn’t let him do that. 

“No, it’s not,” you corrected, shaking your head, “It’s really not, Sam. I’ve been a shitty friend. I thought that I was looking out for you, but I was just being a jealous asshole. I think seeing you so happy with someone else… it made me feel left out, y’know? But that’s not your problem, it’s mine. I made you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about your relationship, and that’s messed up. I’m sorry.” You turned to face him and were surprised when he was already looking at you. 

His grip on your pinky moved to your entire hand as he laced his fingers with yours. He wore a gentle smile as he shook his head softly. “No need for an apology. I already forgave you, silly,” he mumbled, brushing stray hairs from your forehead. His hand cradled the back of your head and pulled you forward. You sighed softly as his lips grazed your temple. “I could never stay mad at you, y’know,” he said quietly. 

You nodded. “I know,” you teased, “You love me too much.” 

He let out a small chuckle and looked down at you. “You got that right. You’re the best friend I have,” he answered. His arm rested across your shoulder, pulling the two of you close despite the groans of the swings you occupied. You tilt your head up, your chin resting on his chest as you meet his gaze. You wished that you could keep this moment in a capsule and return to it over and over again, but you knew that there was more that needed to be said. 

“Sam? You wanna talk about it? The breakup, I mean,” you offered, not wanting to pry but also desperately wanting to be there for him. 

He gave his head a small shake as he continued to smile down at you. “Nah, it’s okay. I kinda knew it was coming.,” he explained, “She was pulling back. I just tried to ignore it. Told myself I was making it up, y’know?” He said it more like a fact than a question, punctuating it all with a long sigh. 

“I’m sorry,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You looked down at his hand in yours, turning it over and examining his long, slender fingers. You thought about how funny it was that even up close Sam was so beautiful and warm. He was perfect down to each minutia of his being. Your fingers traced along his knuckles, transfixed in the dips and curves between them. You grazed his fingertips and felt the rough calluses that had formed there from years of practice and passion. It was like you had fallen into your own private world as you stared at the canvas of your best friend’s palm. 

A small chuckle from Sam pulled you from your daze, his laughter vibrating through his chest and flowing into you. You wore an expression that fell somewhere between amusement and confusion as you looked up at him. “What?” you asked with a soft giggle. 

He shook his head as he held his fond expression. “Nothing,” he answered, “You look pretty when you’re all focused like that. Your brows get all scrunched, and your face gets all serious.” He tried and failed to mimic your expression, falling into a fit of wild, bubbling laughter.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a playful look. “That doesn’t sound pretty, Sam,” you chided jokingly, “You make me look like a doofus.” You shoved him lightly, making him only laugh harder.

He shook his head, fighting off his persistent chuckling as he placed his hand on your cheek and tucked a windswept strand of hair behind your ear. “Trust me, sweetheart. You look so pretty right now,” he whispered. Your heart jumped at how shamelessly he said it, making it impossible to not believe him. You swallowed thickly in an attempt to calm your racing pulse. 

“Yeah?” you questioned teasingly, “You’re not too bad yourself, y’know.” Your cheeks felt hot as you said it, and you could feel creeping regret encompass you as you were suddenly afraid that you had gone too far and ruined the moment, but a small laugh from Sam calmed you instantly in a way that only he seemed able to do.

He mirrored your question, “Yeah?” His gaze pierced your own, freezing you in place despite your desire to look away and hide your growing bashfulness. You felt completely bare before him, like he was seeing every piece of you, and you weren’t sure if you could handle it or if you even wanted to. Just when it became too much to bear and you moved to turn away, you felt Sam’s fingers grip your chin, keeping you facing him. “You scared?” He asked quietly, his voice even and sincere.

You hesitated before answering, unsure of what the honest answer was. Your heart was racing faster than it ever had, and you felt like you were seconds away from passing out, but as you stared up at Sam, you had never felt safer. You were scared out of your mind, but you knew that he would never lead you astray. You shook your head. “I’m alright, Sam,” you answered shakily. 

He smiled softly. “Good,” he cooed as he leaned forward, stopping when his lips were only centimeters from yours. His eyes flitted up to meet your own, silently giving you one last chance to back out. You let out a nervous breath and smiled at him before closing the gap between you, hesitantly locking your lips with his. You heard Sam gasp quietly in surprise, and he stayed still for a moment of pure shock before kissing you back in earnest. His hand on your cheek moved to the back of your neck, pulling you close with all of the gentle passion in his body. You squeezed his hand as you sighed softly into his kiss. Everything around you melted away. There was no playground, no icy wind, and no pressure to be anything but yourself. It didn’t matter where this went or what it would mean for you and Sam tomorrow. All that mattered was this beautiful, messy, perfect moment between the two of you as you made your undefined and unexplored love for each other tangible between squeaky swings and shuffling rocks. 

*

Sam may not be right about a lot of things, but he sure was right about one: you really needed to learn to pace your drinking. You stumbled about Josh’s house, placing your hands on empty walls, wobbly shelves, and innocent party-goers in an attempt to steady yourself. Occasionally, you would spot someone you recognized and slur out a desperate “Where’s Sammy?” to which you would get pointed in a direction that never seemed to be where he actually was. After a few minutes of aimless wandering you gave up and decided to make your way to the kitchen. Your stomach had been growling endlessly for about fifteen minutes, and you had ignored it for just about as long as you could in your drunken state. As you crossed the threshold into the kitchen, your foot caught onto a statue near the entryway, sending you tumbling downward. You yelped and braced yourself for impact, but at the last moment, you felt strong hands grip your arm and waist and pull you back up. You mumbled out a quick thanks before turning towards your savior and seeing a familiar face.

“Oh, Sammy!” you gasped, “There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” You giggled softly and pulled him into a crushing hug, making it his turn to give a surprised yelp, which was followed promptly by his signature, good-natured laugh. 

“Looking for me? What do ya need me for?” he asked. He kept a hand on each of your arms as he talked to you, making sure you didn’t take another dive toward the hardwood floors. 

You stared blankly for a moment before shrugging. “Don’t remember,” you answered before a look of realization crossed your face, “Oh, yeah, I’m drunk. And hungry.” Your stomach growled loudly, cementing your latter point. “See?” you added, pointing to your belly.

He let out a bark of laughter before he looked at you with a smug grin. “Lemme guess, you didn’t listen when I said that doing all those shots with Jake and Josh was a bad idea, huh?” his voice had a tinge of prideful victory, and it was putting a serious damper on your excitement at finding him. 

You let out a groan and stuck your lip out in a pout. “It’s their birthday, Sammy. What kind of friend would I be if I turned down shots?” 

“A sober friend,” he countered with a chuckle, “Besides, they’re professional alcoholics. No one can keep up with them.” He pulled you into his side and ruffled your hair slightly.

“Hey!” you whined, swatting his hand away from your now-tangled hair, “You know, I think you only say that no one can keep up with Jake and Josh because you’re a lightweight.” You look up at him, wiggling your eyebrows in an act of challenging playfulness. 

He rolled his eyes. “Watch it there, sweets. Don’t wanna bite the hand that keeps you from falling on your ass,” he quipped, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as he felt you shift your weight from one foot to the other. 

“Whatever,” you dismissed with a scoff, “You know I’m right, though. That’s why you never drink much at these parties.” Now it was your turn to look up at him smugly, your nose scrunching slightly. 

He brought his other hand forward and tapped the tip of your nose with his index finger playfully. “You wish,” he said with a smirk, “I don’t drink because I know you’re gonna get wasted and beg me for a ride home. What you gotta say about that one?” His gaze on you was triumphant as he expectantly waited for you to answer.

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped as your cheeks flushed, and your face grew into a half-hearted glare. “Can we get Taco Bell on the way home?” you finally asked defeatedly. 

You felt Sam shake with laughter as he nodded, “Sure,” he agreed, “Now, c’mon, let’s go say bye to everyone. Don’t wanna be bad guests, now do we?” You nodded in reply, and he started to guide you out of the kitchen in search of his brothers. Finding them proved to be anything but a difficult feat, considering that all it took to find Josh was to listen for the loudest person and head in their direction. Jake, of course, was right beside his twin, Josh’s arm wrapped affectionately around his shoulders. After wishing them goodbye and a happy birthday and assuring them that while, yes, you’d love to stay, you really did have to go home, you set your sights on finding Danny. He was just as easy to find as the twins, pouring himself another drink and making friendly conversation with some of the other guests. You and Sam bid him farewell and began to make your way out of the house. You clung desperately to Sam’s side as you made it through the living room, and only three extra goodbyes and one near-faceplant later, the two of you had made it outside and all the way to Sam’s car. He unlocked the car and opened the passenger door for you, helping you climb inside. 

“Thank you, Sammy,” you mumbled, “You’re a real sweetheart.” You gave him an affectionate pat on the arm, which he returned before shutting the car door and moving to the driver’s side. 

“Alright,” he said as he sat behind the wheel, “You ready to go? Got your seatbelt buckled?” 

You gave a gasp of realization, “Oh!” The seatbelt made a loud zipping sound as you pulled it across your body. Sam watched with fond amusement as you tried again and again to click the buckle into place, finally nailing it on your fourth try. “Got it!” you exclaimed, all giggles and excitement. 

He laughed along with you as he backed out of Josh’s driveway and set off down the road. You let the time pass between you, an ever-flowing stream of consciousness pouring from you as you shared anything and everything on your mind. Sam listened to every word, never interrupting or making you feel silly for your drunken rambles. It was the kind of thing that you’d really appreciate and probably comment on if you were a little more sober. 

Eventually, you felt the car slow down as Sam pulled into the Taco Bell drive-thru. An excited squeal left your throat as the car rolled to a stop. He rolled down the window, and a few moments later the metallic voice rang through the speaker, asking for your order. You heard Sam ask for a moment before he turned to you with a lopsided grin. “Alright, what are you having, sweets?” he asked.

You gave a loud, exaggerated hum as you thought it over, staring at the menu through the windshield. “Ummm, quesadillas,” you finally answered, “Oh, and a Mountain Dew, please. A big one.” You held your hands up and mimed the shape of a comically large drink. Sam rolled his eyes and chuckled softly in response, ordering quickly and driving up to the window. You leaned over and reached down for your purse. As you picked it up with a victorious huff, you stuffed your hand inside, fishing around for your wallet. However, your movements stopped when you felt Sam’s hand on your arm.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told you, shaking his head as he pulled out his own wallet from his pocket. He moved to take out his card but stopped with a sigh as you shoved a few bills his way. 

“Lemme pay, Sammy,” you pleaded, “People are gonna think I’m a gold digger if you’re always buying.” You hoped your attempt at a joke would make him give in, but it seemed that the odds weren’t in your favor as he shook his head again, pushing the bills away. 

“Nice try,” he said as he handed his card to the woman at the window, “Besides, we’re not even dating. No one’s gonna call you a gold digger.” He laughed, mostly to himself, and took his receipt from the cashier. You pouted slightly as you heard her tell him to pull into a parking spot, letting him know that the food would be out in a few minutes. 

You were about to open your mouth to complain about how hungry you were, but when you looked at Sam, the thought was erased from your mind. The glow of the parking lot lights washed across his features, making them seem beautifully sculpted and impossibly soft all at once. His lips looked plush and full as he sang along quietly to the radio, and the way his lashes fluttered with every blink was enough to make your heart beat out of your chest. 

Before you could stop yourself, you reached out with one hand, gently touching his cheek. “You’re so pretty, Sammy,” you whispered as your thumb brushed along the smooth skin of his cheek. He laughed softly and thanked you, but you shook your head, feeling a burning need to make him understand. “No, I mean it,” you insisted, “You’re beautiful. The light makes your face look so good.” You leaned over the center console, craving to be close to him. 

You didn’t notice the soft flush of his cheeks, but you felt his hand grab yours softly and place it back in your lap. “Thanks, sweetheart,” he answered with a small smile playing across his lips, “You look really nice, too. Even if you’re a little sauced.” 

You sigh, ignoring his playful dig at your current state. Your gaze stayed trained on him for a few more lingering moments. “You look the way you did in the playground that one time,” you mumbled, and you felt your cheeks heat up even as you said it.

“Yeah?” he asked, tensing slightly and gripping the steering wheel tighter with his left hand, his right one drumming on the gear shift. 

You nodded. “Yeah. I think about it a lot. Do you?” you asked with such unfiltered candor that Sam couldn’t deny you the truth. 

“Yeah. Sometimes,” he uttered, his eyes staying trained forward, unable to face you. It was only when he felt your soft grip on his chin that he turned. 

“I wanna kiss you, Sam,” you blurted. The words hung in the air, and you desperately wanted to take them back, but it was too late, and as much as you could try to deny it in the morning, they were all true. 

He searched your face for a few seconds, confusion and heartbreak dancing over his features. “No, you don’t, sweets. You’re drunk,” he muttered with a shake of his head, “You’re just getting in your head and saying things that you don’t mean.” His hand firmly but gently gripped your wrist, pushing your hand away. You moved it back immediately, your face holding a look of vulnerable want. 

“No,” you protested softly, “Drunk or sober, this is what I want. I just… I’ve never been brave enough to say it before. Please, Sam, you know I love you.” You leaned forward slightly, praying to whatever powers that be that maybe he would feel the same way, but he only shook his head, placing his hand over yours. 

His voice came out in a pained whisper, punctuated with a shake of his head, “I love you, too.” They were the exact words you wanted to hear, but you never knew how painful they could be. What you thought would be a heartfelt confession became the biggest rejection of your life. You opened your mouth to speak back, to ask why he didn’t want you if he loved you so much, but you were cut off as a woman approached the car, knocking on the window and handing Sam your food. You sat in a terrible silence as he placed your drink in the cup holder and handed you the brown paper bag. He stared ahead for a moment before sighing and putting on a half-hearted smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Alright, sweets. Let’s get you home.” And just like that, the moment was over. 

*

Hot tears poured down your cheeks, burning your skin and making you choke with every sob. You wiped your nose with your sleeve, not caring how gross you would normally find the habit. Your knees were pulled tightly to your chest as you sat perched on your couches. After a few moments, your breathing slowly evened out, and you took a deep breath before reaching for your phone, dialing quickly and praying for an answer. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you heard Sam’s voice from the other line, full of cheer and affection. The sound of him alone was enough to pull fresh tears from you, pouring out in loud cries. He responded immediately with concern, “What’s wrong?” His question was simple. He never pushed too far, and it was something you appreciated now more than ever. 

You sniffled loudly for a few moments before answering. “I dumped Austin,” you sobbed, “Can you please come over?” 

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do you need anything?” He asked, his answer swift and to the point. 

After a few moments of silent thought, you whimpered back, shaking your head, “No, just get here as soon as you can, please.” Your grip on your phone was tight and desperate as if holding it close would bring Sam to you faster. 

“Alright. I’ll be there soon. You hang in tight, okay? I love you,” he cooed, slowly easing your nerves, making your breath still.

“Okay,” you sighed, “Thank you, Sammy. I love you, too.” You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. All you wanted was to ball back up on the couch and scream, but you decided that you should try getting yourself together before Sam arrived. You were sure he wouldn’t mind if you were a blubbering mess, but it wasn’t like he could help you much if you could barely speak. 

You walked into your kitchen, throwing open your freezer and grabbing a tub of ice cream. It made a soft thudding sound as you dropped it unceremoniously onto the counter and swung the door to the freezer closed. Next, you pulled open the drawer nearest to the stove, grabbing a spoon for yourself and an extra one for Sam. The old barstool that was posed near your kitchen island screeched as you dragged it towards you, and it creaked loudly when you sat upon it. You mentally reminded yourself to look for new barstools and yanked the lid off of the ice cream, scooping a large spoonful and shoving it into your mouth. The sugar truly did little to lift your spirits, but at least it didn’t make you feel worse. At least that was what you were telling yourself when you heard a knock at the door, signaling Sam’s arrival. 

You got up from your place at the counter and plodded to the door. As you opened it and saw your friend’s face, you fell into his arms in a tight, bone-crushing hug. “Hey, Sammy,” you mumbled into his chest. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he answered. You felt his hand splayed out across your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting gesture. After a moment, he spoke again. “You okay?” he asked, his voice full of gentle concern. 

You let out a long sigh. “Yes. No. I don’t really know,” you whined, “I feel so bad, Sam. He had no clue it was coming.” Your head fell forward, landing in your palms as you rubbed your temples in frustration and uncertain grief. You slowly moved back to the kitchen and plopped back into your chair. 

“I thought things were going really well,” Sam asked, following you and sitting beside you at the counter. 

You nod as you take another bite of ice cream and nudge the extra spoon in his direction. “It was. I mean, he was so sweet and nice. He would come to all my family stuff, even when he knew he didn’t have to, and he was always doing all these sweet little things to make sure I knew he cared. Flowers, chocolates, the whole nine yards, y’know? He was the best boyfriend I ever had,” you shared, one long stream of consciousness pouring out of you. 

Sam sat in silence for a moment, taking in what you had to say. Then, he gave a long sigh and finally answered, “I don’t understand then, sweets. Why’d you dump him?” 

It was your turn to give a sigh in response, paired now with a shake of your head. “I didn’t love him,” you said quietly, “I tried. I tried so hard to love him. I mean, why not, y’know? He was a nice guy, the kinda guy I should consider myself lucky to be with. But I just couldn’t do it. No matter how hard I tried.” Tears started to roll down your cheeks again and your shoulders started to shake as Sam pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his chin on the top of your head. 

“Hey, it’s alright. You don’t have to love anyone. You know that? Besides, any guy who’s with you is the lucky one, not the other way around,” he cooed sweetly to you as he gently patted you on the back, swaying slightly. 

You gave a small huff, leaning into Sam’s embrace. “It’s like this every time. I meet a nice guy, and I try to love them, I really do, and it always just blows up in my face. God, what’s wrong with me?” you cried as you buried your face into the crook of his shoulder. 

He shushed you softly, “Oh, now, come on. You know nothing’s wrong with you. You’re the best gal I know, and you shouldn’t try to force yourself to love anybody. That’s not the way to go about it. It’s not fair to yourself.” You felt his head tilt downward to look at you. “What’re you doing trying to make yourself love all these guys anyway?” he asked, no mocking tone in his voice, only a genuine desire to understand. 

“It’s embarrassing, Sam,” you replied with a shake of your head, “I can’t….” Your sentence trailed off and you kept your face pressed against his body, unable to answer. 

He nodded, “Alright. That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to, but just try to remember that things are gonna work out, okay? You’re gonna find someone out there who’s gonna really knock your socks off.” A small chuckle rumbled in his chest as he tried to slowly lift your spirits. 

“No, I won’t, Sam,” you muttered, “I’ve tried over and over. It’s not gonna work out for me.” 

Your words only made him tighten his grip on you. “Now, that’s crazy talk,” he chided softly, “Why would you think a thing like that?” 

“Because you don’t love me.” 

Your words hung between the two of you, Sam being the first to cut through the thick tension they left behind. “What?” he asked, his voice bearing incredulous confusion, “Of course I love you. I tell you I love you all the time.” 

You gave a frustrated groan and pulled yourself away from him. “God, Sam, you just don’t get it. I don’t mean love like that. I mean love. You might love me, Sam, but you don’t want me. Not the way I want you.” 

A painfully loud, blaring silence filled the room as the weight of what you said rested on the man before you. He didn’t say a word, his eyes staying locked on the floor. 

“See?” you continued, “I’ve always loved you, Sam. I thought it was pass, but… fuck, I love you, Sam. And you just don’t love me. You never did.” 

You opened your mouth to say more but was cut short as you felt warm, soft lips pressed against your own. Your body went rigid with shock for a moment before melting into Sam’s kiss. Deep, hungry sighs of relief flowed between the two of you as you desperately grabbed at each other. His tongue slotted itself between your lips, coming to meet with your own as his hands combed through your hair, gentle need filling him as he cradled you to his being. Your hands rested upon his shoulders and acted as an anchor to prove to yourself that this was real and not some sick joke your brain was playing on you. 

After you could hardly breathe and had exhausted yourself in the raw passage of love you shared, you pulled back, looking Sam in the eyes. “I’ve always loved you,” he confessed, “I loved you since that night we kissed our senior year. I just… I was scared. The way I feel about you, it’s bigger than me. Hell, it’s bigger than the both of us put together, and I was scared that if I told you, if I really put my money where my mouth is and just laid it all out, it would ruin what we had. I could never afford to lose you. I still can’t. I just always told myself that I’d do whatever it takes to keep you around, even if it meant I couldn’t love you the way I wanted.” 

You were almost moved to tears at his words as you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. “Oh, Sam, you’re so stupid. Stupid and wonderful. How could I ever not love you? And how could a love like ours ever go bad?” You tilted your head up and kissed him again, feeling so free just to know that you could. 

A loud laugh rumbled through his chest as he held you and kissed you back. “Yeah, I guess love makes us all a little stupid, doesn’t it?” he asked and looked down at you, his playful, lopsided smile plastered to his face. 

You giggled with unbridled delight. “I guess you’re right on that one,” you conceded, “At least we can be stupid together, right?” 

“Right,” he answered, leaning in and kissing you sweetly. You smiled into his kiss, happy in the fact that you and Sam were both incredibly, undeniably stupid and unmistakably, absolutely in love.

taglist: @westernwoods @sunfl0wer-power @gold-mines-melting @alwaysonthemend @andtherestishistory13 @writingcold @sunandthemoontwinflames (send me an ask/dm if you wanna be added to my taglist!!)

[monpalace]

fem! twilight/fem! reader. non-graphic descriptions of a wound. twilight licking said wound like it's a kiss. she's a little feral. lime on the citrus scale. checked with grammarly. 762 words. my three (3) irls, you don't see this.

It was an ugly gash. You'd held a branch out of the way for Warriors and let go of it before you'd fully moved past it.

You hadn't even noticed it cut through your clothes until Legend pointed it out.

An accident.

One that Twilight had decided to take as her personal task— but an accident no less.

She'd helped you wrap it up with the bandage wrap you kept on your person until camp was set up.

The temporary fix was cut away once she was able to pull you away to a running lake. She'd brought you down to sit between her thighs, bare legs dipped into frigid water was a sharp wake-up to the way her eyes hooded over as she looked at the bloody wound.

The gash was on your back, somewhere you couldn't comfortably reach without straining a muscle.

She's picking at the dried blood left behind by the now scarlet bandage. Her other hand busies itself with squeezing your waist in a pattern you can't make out.

You don't know if it's meant to be comforting or predatory with the way her breath tickles your neck.

"Twilight?"

She doesn't respond with words. Instead, some guttural groan leaves her belly and you can't help but think of the wolf that sometimes accompanies you when she leaves.

You hesitate to speak again. If she were caught somewhere in her head, you don't want to bother her, but you're shirtless by such a cold lake, and your back was starting to ache from being hunched over, and you could feel the way your gash was starting to pulse with heat, and—

The tongue that lathes at your wound is slippery yet slow. It's hot, but not painfully so like the touch of your injury.

Split ends and a boyish cut are all you can see when you look over your shoulder. The overwhelming heat on your waist is instead cupped over your chin, forcing you to look forward again.

Another lick, this one instead followed by an open-mouthed kiss to the bloody cut.

The air feels muggy and you're not sure if it's because of the heat in the air or the way she panted so heavily against your skin. Your nerves were struggling to tell the difference between her hot and heavy breaths, her messy strings of saliva, and your own sweat.

Her teeth feel sharper than what you've seen and you think of that wolf again. She gently bites at the serrated skin, either trying to coax more blood from it or show her appreciation for its offering.

You don't jump or jolt or gasp or sigh even when the skin feels like it's been rubbed raw. Her tongue is exploring the surrounding expanse of skin as though she were entranced by it and you can't bring yourself to stop her.

Your nails dig deeply into the balls of your hands, making the skin raw. Past the thought the last time you cut them, you wonder if she'd let you grip onto some part of her body to alleviate the tension building throughout your body.

The way she gripped your chin earlier only tells you she'd manhandle both wrists into a single hand and force you still until she was done.

You squirm at the possibility.

When Twilight finally pulls away, you don't realize it at first. It takes her rubbing a digit on the overworked skin for you to gain some semblance of clarity.

She's muttering under her breath and licking around wherever her tongue can reach inside her mouth and on her face.

"'m sorry doll, I didn' mean t' go at ya' so hard, you'll be okay pretty girl, you'll be okay, I had to get ya' right before I fixed ya', you'll be right as rain soon, got that girlie?"

What was meant to be words of comfort sounded more like drunken rambles. She's petting along your spine and pushing her nose behind your ear, her free hand reaching somewhere at her hips.

A rip sounds through the air and you wince at the contact on your wound. Cool air and searing spit are suffocated beneath what you can only assume is the bandage.

Twilight wraps it around your shoulder round and round and round, tight enough to keep it in place yet loose enough to not restrict movement.

She's pressing her lips to whatever piece of skin she can reach, hands gingerly groping at your sides every now and again.

"Now let's go, yeah? 'm sure the others 're worried."

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

The Song We Are Drawn Towards; Azul Ashengrotto

A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.

Main Character: Azul Ashengrotto

Supporting Roles: Mama Ashengrotto, Jade Leech & Floyd Leech

Content: Soulmate AU (I use the term soul match instead), gender-neutral reader, hurt/comfort but comfort is only at the end, can be read as familial, platonic, or romantic and that was done on purpose, wet cat Azul, 99% genuine fic 1% crack (actual math said 0.002%)

Content Warning: mentions of injury, brief mention of divorce (Mama Ashengrotto), self-doubt/self-loathing on Azul's part, mention of an age gap but there isn't one

Word Count: 5.5 K

Author's Note: Please do not repost my works to other websites or into AI software. I may or may not write parts for other characters; if you want to be tagged for those please let me know. I am not sorry for the ending. I switch between third and second-person point of view, if that bothers you, sorry. Spell check done by Grammarly. I wrote this in like one or two days, help.

Jade's Story | Floyd's Story

Once a year, during the week of the largest full moon, merfolk are forced out of the ocean at night, their aquatic halves melting into legs. The process itself was not a pleasant one, often described as stepping on broken glass for the entire duration. This annual week-long nightly excursion typically starts the year in which the merperson turns sixteen, corresponding with the age at which the mermaid made a deal with the Sea Witch to go on land and try to be with her soul match.

Some considered it as a blessing, as a chance to find their soul match beyond the waters they knew, to find the singer of the silent song that rested in their hearts. To find the person that they felt magnetically drawn towards, no matter the distance that separated them, like that of the moon and the tides. 

Others, however, viewed it as a curse, as there was a catch alongside the pain of walking. If their soul match happens to not be a merperson, one of the parties would have to leave their old life behind in order to be with the other. The surface dweller would have to trade their legs for fins, or the mer would have to trade their aquatic half for legs. Permanently. Such a steep price had some mers taking drastic measures to avoid that fate, not wanting to be forced to leave the life they knew behind or wanting their soul match to leave theirs, even if it meant they would both live their happiest years together. In the search for answers, some were able to concoct an elixir that would stop the transformation for that year. Unfortunately, there was also a drawback to it as well. If a mer were to take it for three years in a row, they would no longer be able to go on land, even with the aid of potions. They would be bound to the sea for their life. It is easy enough to avoid, but it was still tiresome.

But what of mers already living on land? What happens to them during this week? 

For those mers who call the land their home, they revert back to their merform during sunlight hours, regardless of how many potions or spells they may try. They only get their legs back when the sun sets and the moon rises. It is more of an inconvenience than anything else. 

And this cycle of returning to land would continue until they found their soul match, forged a bond with another, their match forged a bond with another or their match died. But they would feel when their match died the instant it happened, as the pull would stop and their inner song faded into silence. And for those who had lost their match, they were never the same again. It was considered as one of the most painful experiences a mer could live through.

Mers would be able to feel their soul match and hear their song by their sixth birthday. If they did not, it was often seen as a bad omen, as it was an extremely rare occurrence. And looks of pity and sadness were given when the child disclosed this information, but no one outside of their family would answer their questions.

… ... ...

Azul could not fall asleep, no matter how many songs his mother sang, or how many stories she told him. The little cecaelia stayed awake, his tentacles subconsciously mussing with blankets.

“Mama, what did it feel like for you?” He murmured, trying and failing to suppress a yawn, eyelids drooping. “Did it feel like the mermaid’s from the story? Can you tell me it?”

Miss Ashengrotto held onto her son’s little hand, rubbing her thumb gently across his palm. “Hm, well it felt like there was a rope tying me to someone. I couldn’t see or touch them, but I knew they were out there somewhere.” She hummed, placing a kiss on Azul’s forehead. “But it was the song,” she placed a hand on top of her heart and then placed one of her tentacles on Azul’s chest. “It sings from here, and in theirs is where the harmony is complete. It felt like…” A wistful sigh left her lips, “It felt like home. Not quite like the mermaid’s, but similar in a sense.” A soft smile graced her lips as she looked tenderly at her son. “And I met him six years ago. I met you, my little cuttlefish.”

Azul giggled at the nickname. “What about dad? I thought he was your soul match?”

“He’s not,” she frowned slightly, knowing that she would have to tell him eventually about the divorce, but not wanting him to go through what many children of divorce had to. Especially not now. “But that’s okay. We can love people who aren’t our soul matches. Plus soul matches can come in very many ways. They can be romantic, like the mermaid’s, friendships, or familial, like you and me. Some people even have more than one. For every person, there is a different kind of soul match, no two are the same.”

Azul leaned into his mother’s touch, and clung onto her side, “I love you, mama.”

“I love you most,” and she attacked his face with kisses and raspberries, making him squeal with laughter. “Now, you should really try and get some sleep, love. Tomorrow is your birthday after all!”

Azul wrapped himself into a blanket cocoon, “Okay, mama. Night night.”

Ms. Ashengrotto gave one final kiss to his forehead and turned off the light. “Sweet dreams, Azul.”

He looked towards the skylight, seeing the gentle light softly radiating from the full moon above. He wondered if they saw it too if his soul match was seeing the same beautiful moon that he was seeing now. He wondered if they felt like the warm gentle kisses of the sun's rays on skin, or perhaps the cool embrace of the moon’s light. Maybe they felt like something completely different. Azul let out a happy but nervous giggle and waved goodnight to the moon before falling into the land of dreams.

…

Azul woke up the next day, but his excitement morphed into worry and then panic. He didn’t feel the pull. He didn’t hear the song. He was supposed to wake up on his sixth birthday and feel the pull and hear his soul match’s song, but there was nothing. Nothing but silence and his own thoughts and racing heart. He buried himself back into his cocoon, tears starting to threaten to fall.

“Azul, honey?” His mother poked her head into his room and saw that he was still in his bed. “Come on, love, time to get up. I made your favourite breakfast! Azul?” Her chipper tone toned down as she heard the small sniffles, and instantly was at her son’s side, holding out her hand if he wanted to hold on to it. “I’m here if you want to talk, baby.”

Azul slowly pulled the blankets down, eyes bloodshot from crying, and a bit of ink leaking out. “It didn’t happen, mama,” his voice cracked, and he let out a little cough. “Why didn’t it happen?”

Ms. Ashengrotto wiped away some of the stray tears and gently held his face. “That…” she paused, trying to come up with something that would help him but also be true. “That happens sometimes, love. It doesn’t always happen exactly on everyone’s sixth birthday. It might mean that they aren’t here yet.”

Azul rubbed at his nose, “But Rielle said-”

“Tch, tch. Last time I checked Rielle is Rielle, and you are Azul, my sweet, smart, and charming Azul.” She placed a kiss on each cheek, earning a small giggle in return. “So ignore Rielle. It will happen eventually Azul. Besides, you’ll always have me. Now, would you like some breakfast as we wait?”

Azul grabbed onto his mother’s hand, “Maybe just a little…”

And they swam hand in hand towards the kitchen, but both of their minds and hearts weighed heavy at what this could possibly mean.

… ... ...

Azul sat at his desk in the Mostro Lounge VIP room, going over some contracts even though the new school year hadn’t even started yet. Normally, he would be more smug about the whole ordeal, but his mind was elsewhere, wandering. No matter what contract he tried to make to find his soul match, it would always lead to nothing, nothing but a bitter feeling and a restless night of sleep. Ever since he turned six all those years ago, he still hasn’t felt the magnetic pull or heard the song play in his heart that he overheard others talk excitedly about. Perhaps it was a lost cause… Perhaps he was meant to spend this lifetime alone… Perhaps he wasn’t good enough for someone despite all he has accomplished… 

A familiar rapping at the door caught his attention. Pulling himself out of his rapidly tunnel-visioning thoughts, Azul dusted himself off and straightened up his appearance. There’s no use in dwelling in the past and on what-ifs, there are more important dealings at hand. “Come in.”

“Azul, the carriages have started arriving,” Jade spoke, opening the door. 

Azul adjusted the hood on his robe and joined Jade in walking towards the mirror chamber in silence. Floyd was probably off somewhere looking for a source of amusement while the house wardens and vice wardens saw that their new underclassmen got situated. As long as he didn’t have to repay for damages he didn’t mind what shenanigans the other Leech twin got into since it could always be smoothed over at a later date. 

As he was walking down the stairs though, he nearly fell, pausing dead in his tracks and clutching onto the bannister. Something was pulling at him so strongly that he nearly toppled over. And he could hear singing so loud that he could almost hear nothing else save for his own rapidly increasing heartbeat. His soul match. He wasn’t alone. Everything else seemed to disappear, nothing else mattered. But the moment of shock, awe, and soul-shattering happiness of finally knowing that there was finally someone out there, broke. Shattered into a thousand pieces. If it was happening now that would mean… it would mean that his soul match just entered into the world. That happiness morphed into bitterness. He would be at least seventeen years their senior, and he instantly felt ill. 

Jade had noticed the odd behaviour and stood there waiting and watching. Seeing the different emotions flash across Azul’s eyes. “Hmm? Something the matter?” A coy smile slowly made its way onto his face, amused at whatever had caused the brief moment of clumsiness.

Azul’s face flushed blue, but he cleared his throat and continued on, ignoring the stare that was practically searing a hole at the back of his head. “Nothing for you to be concerned with,” he stated cooly. He was anything but cool though, quite the opposite really. He wanted nothing more than to retreat back to his office, even considering hiding away in his octopot after all of these years. Jade, however, did not need to be privy to any of this, lest Azul wanted to be teased for admitting to such a thing. “Now, let’s move along. We shouldn’t be late.”

The magnetic pull and song did not stop, if anything it kept on growing stronger. Azul had to grit his teeth to avoid his carefully crafted mask from falling. But there was a small part of him that wanted nothing more than to follow the pull, to find them. A part of him reasoned that soul matches were not always one type of relationship, some are purely platonic whereas others took on a more familial role, like what his mother told him many years ago. But no one was the wiser of his thoughts as he entered the mirror chamber, people more focused on first-day nerves and sorting out their new charges. 

“New students,” he started, putting on a welcoming yet calculating smile. “Allow me to be the first to congratulate you on your achievement. As dorm leader of Octavinelle House, I am honoured to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.” He looked around the new sea of faces that would call Octavinelle home. That’s odd though, the headmage seems to not be here.

Other dorm heads started muttering about the headmage’s absence, but soon enough he appeared, dragging along some grey creature and a new student in their robes. Azul winced, the song was deafening and despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t focus on what was being said.

But upon hearing, “I sense no magical powers from this one. Soundless. Colourless,” that piqued his interest and the song faltered slightly. “Shapeless. Utterly vacant. Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.”

But the moment of silence was ruined, trying into chaos, since the grey creature decided to get loose and spew blue fire everywhere.

“Everyone,” Riddle shouted, “get down!”

The others were not much help, taking to bickering amongst themselves or trying (and failing in some cases) to not get licked by the flames.

Azul cleared his throat, “Allow me to handle this, Headmage Crowley. If none of you are up to the task of catching a small animal, I will accept the responsibility.” He would recount to others that he remembered the proceedings of that day, but he would be lying, as he could only recount the pull and the song that made it hard to hear or focus on anything else. Even the snarky banter with Riddle was forgotten. It was only the song that occupied his thoughts.

… ...

The song had quietened since it first showed up, now just a constant humming in his head. The pull though would vary in strength, meaning that his soul match was closer to him. He wanted nothing more than to run to them, but he knew better than to go into this blindly. He told himself that he would wait for six years, and talk to their guardian about him being in their life as a familial bond. The only inkling that Azul was thinking all of this was the occasional far-off look in his eyes, or singing the same song under his breath.

“That’s new,” Jade hummed. 

Azul faltered, realizing that he had been singing his soul match’s song unknowingly. “I suppose it is,” he said, measuring his actions carefully. He knew that Jade would see through any lies he attempted, so he knew that telling the truth was a far better option. It would just have to be handpicked truths though, as to make sure not to lay everything bare, as he wasn’t ready for that yet. “I heard it recently and haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

Jade placed a cup of tea on the desk, careful to avoid any papers that were strewn about. “That so? I don’t recognize it.” His smile turned sharp, calculating, but he tampered it down to something more cold and polite. “Perhaps we can find the person who made this song?”

Azul stopped what he was doing, and looked at Jade with a raised brow. “There is no need for such… drastic measures,” he said, wanting nothing more than to hide away. Of course that damned eel would notice his off behaviour and put two and two together. “Besides,” he brushed himself off, “it would be foolish.”

“It would be foolish not to,” Jade replied. Soon the sharp smile returned, “Speaking of fools, there has been talk of the new Prefect of Ramshackle. Apparently, they have… won over Riddle and Leona. And they seem to keep rather interesting company as well. They seem intriguing.”

Azul pushed up his glasses and faintly recalled the face of the Ramshackle Prefect from the mirror chamber. “The magicless Prefect? And by company you mean those two first-years in Heartslabyul and that cat creature? Hmm, they did just sign these the other day.” He pulls out the three contracts, looking up at his friend(?), fellow business associate(?). “And that dorm, as… rustic as it is would work wonderfully for our latest business venture.” A small smug smile starts to bloom. “Let’s see how foolish they can be.”

… ... ...

When Azul overblotted, the song returned, practically screaming in his head, and the pull felt like he was next to a black hole. That’s all he really remembers from the incident, the rest of it being filled in by the others. But why was the song so loud? How was the pull so strong? He groaned, dragging his hands across his face. “Why is this happening,” he breathed out, staring up at the ceiling of his room. “Why now?”

And on top of all of this, the largest full moon of the year is happening next week, just his luck. At least the professors were understanding and gave the merfolk the week off of studies, and even if they could attend classes, everyone would have been too distracted to focus on the subject material. Perhaps he could take this week and work on revising the Lounge’s menu.

He sighed, it was no use trying to get any sleep at this rate. “Sea Witch,” he huffed, “why did you spin me this fate?” No one answered, just the calm light of the moon falling down from above, painting everything in cool silvers and blues. Perhaps a walk around campus would help clear his swimming thoughts and allow him to at least get a few hours of decent sleep before his first class of the day.

As he walked through the empty halls, Azul hummed the song that never ceased in his mind. He let the gentle pull of his soul match guide him. He knew it would lead somewhere, and he would stop himself from going any further if he felt it get too strong. What he wasn’t expecting was to hear someone else humming the exact tune, the same lyrics, harmonizing perfectly with his, echoing off of the corridors from out of site.

Both parties stopped. The gentle tugging now felt like a gravitational pull. And Azul was conflicted; should he continue ahead or turn back? His soul match had just happened this year, if they had indeed just entered into this world they shouldn’t be here, at the college, let alone at this hour. And by the tone of their humming, he would guess that they were around his age, not an infant as he first thought. Then why did it take so long for the song and pull to happen? What did that mean?

But the hurried footsteps which fled in the opposite direction of him were an indicator enough; they weren’t ready. They didn't want to meet him.

A lump formed in his throat. His soul match was here? For all this time? At the school? A slight panic arose. Did they know? Were they able to tell who he was based on the faint humming? Is that why they ran away? Because they knew and wanted nothing to do with him? After all this time why should he think any differently? Of course, his soul match would choose to run away from him.  Why wouldn’t they? After his overblot, he wouldn’t expect them to stay. If he were them, he would have run away as well, far far away. He couldn’t blame them. He would have run away from himself too.

… ... ...

The week of the full moon came far sooner than Azul would have wanted. Instead of going home as many of the others did, he stayed, holing himself up in one of the private pools in the Octavinelle dorm during the day or his office when nighttime came around. Of course, he wasn’t so lucky to be the only one who stayed. Jade and Floyd had stayed to ‘keep him company’, but he knew that they only stayed to tease him even though they had their soul matches out there somewhere.

“Jade told me that you’ve been humming a little song,” speak of one the devils. Floyd poked his head into the crevice that Azul had crammed himself into at the deep end of the pool. “So you’ve been hiding the little siren song from us, that’s not fairr!~ Come on, sing, Azul!”

Azul glared at the intruding twin, “It has nothing for you to be concerned with.” He tried to push Floyd out of his personal space, but he just took it as a challenge to try and shimmy his way in further. “I don’t meddle in your… affairs,” he hissed, finally having enough of the meddling eel-mer and punching him in the gut with a tentacle, shooting him out of the rocky cavern and his personal space. “Now leave me alone!”

“Eh? Tch, whatever, you’re no fun like this, moping about,” Floyd pouted. His eyes soon lit up though, and he turned to his brother who was lurking in the background. “We should grab Little Shrimpy tonight! I wonder how they would react if we pulled them in for a swim?~”

Jade chuckled, “Their reaction would be quite amusing I imagine.” He swam over to Azul’s hiding crevice, and shot him a look that he knew too well; he was planning something, something that was sure to give him a headache.

Floyd swam about excitedly, twisting and turning, turning up the sand at the bottom and clouding up the water. “Swimming with Shrimpyyyy,” he sang with glee. “Heh heh, wonder if Shrimpy has their own song?~ Eh, but humans only have the song if their match is a mer…”

Azul groaned, what with Floyd’s babbling and the song being stubbornly loud today, he could feel the beginnings of a migraine. Why couldn’t there be large enough pools in their bedrooms so he could avoid all of this? “Seven’s, put me out of my misery,” he grumbled to himself. 

“Ah, Azul,” Jade tutted, “we can’t have that now. After all, your match is around here, somewhere.” That earned the eel a tentacle punch as well, much like his brother. “No need to be rude now. We’re just trying to help is all.” But that smug shit-eating grin of his said otherwise. “Floyd, let’s go, the sun is setting. We’ll retrieve the Prefect closer to dawn.”

And finally, Azul was left alone. But the brief moment of peace was broken, hissing in pain. The transformation was happening. Upon completion, he poked his head out, making sure that the coast was clear before making his way towards his office and bolting the door shut. “At last,” he sighed, sagging against one of the sofas. “Some peace and quiet.”

As he busied himself with revising contracts, the day’s earnings, and going over notes on what subject matter to study for an upcoming test. But he wasn’t all there. Despite how hard he tried, he couldn’t ignore the song, and the tugging was strongest during this week. But after that night, when he heard them run away, he didn’t know if he wanted to find them anymore. What if this… whatever it is that the Sea Witch gave him, wasn’t right? He could have been content eventually, content with knowing that he didn’t have a soul match out there. But this, knowing and having one but having heard them run away before he could properly meet them? That was almost worse. He would always know that they were out there, and they had run away before even really getting to know him. Could they have been happy? Could they have been a friend? Could they have been like family? Could they have been… in love?

Eventually, he had to return to the pool, as he didn’t want anyone seeing him crawl back in his mer-form. When he got back he noticed the twins were still gone, but they would be back eventually, so he took this time to properly stretch out. Yes, being in tight spaces gave him a sense of security, but it felt nice to stretch out his tentacles and relax without worrying about someone interrupting him or making a rude comment. It felt nice to take up space.

“Come on, Shrimpy!” Floyd’s yelling alerted him, and he quickly went down to his hiding crevice before he was spotted. “Let’s go for a swim!~”

The door to the pool room opened with a loud bang, Floyd carrying the Ramshackle Prefect over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Even from under the water, Azul could hear them shrieking in protest. “FLOYD! Put me down!”

He hid further in his hiding spot, not wanting them to see him like this. He also clutched his hands over his ears, the song only increasing more and more. And the tugging at his soul grew even stronger.

Jade was of no help, just watching the chaos ensue. You shot him a glare, but he just chuckled at the action.

“Eh? Okay then, Shrimpy, if you insist,” Floyd got that familiar glean in his eyes, the kind that meant no good.

 “Floyd, do not throw me! Don’t you dare throw me,” but he had already made the decision for you, and you could do nothing to stop him. He threw you into the pool, following suit by splashing in after you, drenching Jade in the process who shot his twin the side eye. “Why?” You seethed.

Floyd swam up beside you, now in his mer-form. “Cuz it’s more fun like this,” he sang, poking your cheek with the tip of a claw. “Right, Jade?!”

Jade was now also in the pool and swimming towards you. “While I wouldn’t personally throw them in, it was quite amusing.”

“You two are awful,” you sighed, giving into your fate. Despite being just thrown in, the water was quite pleasant but you wouldn’t admit it, since they would tease you mercilessly. Jade chuckled, and Floyd gave you a large smile, but neither of them denied the statement. 

You went and laid on your back, floating and staring at the ceiling. To others, it would look like you were relaxing, but you did this not to relax, but rather to stay afloat. As you felt like an anchor was trying to pull you into the dark depths of the pool. There was nothing pulling you down physically though, and other odd things have also happened since you showed up at Night Raven College. Yes, a world filled with magic, merfolk, fae, and beastmen was quite the shocker, but none of that explained why you felt like something was always pulling you towards something, and the same song kept on playing in your head. And now, alongside the pulling, it was the loudest it has ever been, even louder than during Azul’s overblot when it felt like it was rupturing your eardrums. But it was more pleasant this time, not painful.

You hummed, “Just curious, but does everyone hear… a song in their head on repeat all the time?”

Floyd stopped splashing about and was in your face in a millisecond. “SHRIMPYYY!!!” And he tackled you into a hug that would definitely be leaving some bruises later. You should have been used to this kind of behaviour, but you still winced with him nearly screaming in your ear and the pressure of his squeezing. 

Jade had also swam into your personal bubble, eyes filled with curiosity. “Oh, that’s rather strange. Have you always heard this little song of your’s, Prefect?”

You wiggled out of Floyd’s grasp, sputtering out some wayward water that had managed to get into your mouth, leaving behind the taste of salt. “No,” you grimaced, spitting out some more water. “Which is why I’m asking.”

Azul peered up, this exchange catching his attention, but still kept himself hidden.

“It means you have a soul match!~” Floyd giggled.

You frowned, “A soul match? Never heard of that.”

“A soul match is something rather common here,” Jade said. “For humans, it is quite rare. It is far more common in beastmen, fae and merfolk. The fact that you have such a bond is…” he paused for a moment, “rather interesting.”

You heaved yourself out of the water, as you didn’t feel comfortable staying in the pool what with the pulling and the off chance that it did eventually pull you underwater never to surface again. “Cryptic as always, Jade,” you raise a brow at the eel-mer. “Just answer the question please.”

Jade put a hand over his heart, “Oh, how you wound me.” He saw you roll your eyes, and he decided to elaborate on your request. “Mers are gifted soul matches by the Sea Witch. A song rests in the heart, calling out to the one who completes the harmony. Their match pulls at them, as the moon does the tide.” He leaned in close, eyes flashing. “So, to answer your question, Prefect-”

“Shrimpy’s match is a mer!!!” Floyd interrupted with glee, throwing his arms out, splashing you in the process. 

Jade sighed at his brother’s antics. “Which is what I was going to say before you interrupted me, but he is correct. You have a soul match with a mer.”

You blinked in confusion. You, with a merperson? “But why? How,” you questioned, looking at your reflection in the water. Why me?

“That, I believe, is for you to discover on your own,” Jade hummed. You shot him the side eye. “Oh, don’t give me such a look, Prefect, you know I can’t give away everything. Besides,” he peered down into the depths, “if you follow the tug, and sing the song, you will find them eventually.”

With that, Jade dove into the depths, calling Floyd to follow him. You were left alone at the edge of the pool, with nothing else to accompany you but your dripping clothes and racing thoughts. And of course, the song that played in your head.

… ...

Somehow that night, Jade and Floyd had managed to pry Azul away from his desk and paperwork.

“Leave me alone,” he protested, glaring at them. “Go look for your soul matches without me!”

Floyd flung his arm across Azul’s shoulder, effectively trapping him into joining along. “But Azulll, we should find them together!~” Why did he insist on being so? So?! So annoying?! “Plus, I wanna see the look on your face when you see them for the first time! Maybe you’ll turn blue, or even spew ink!~”

Why did he befriend these two again? “I will do no such thing!” His voice cracked, going up an octave and he felt his face flush. And Floyd wore an even larger grin, poking at his cheek.

“See! Already proving to be fun!” He ran ahead suddenly, leaving Azul alone with Jade. 

Azul massaged his temple, trying to regain whatever composure he had left. Didn’t he just say they would be searching for their soul matches together? Why in the Sea Witch’s name did he just run off without them? 

Jade walked behind him, making sure he couldn’t just return back to his office and hide for the night. “Floyd is just a bit excitable is all,” he answered Azul’s silent question. But he knew that the eel was plotting something.

The pulling was getting stronger, and the song blocked out everything else. Azul had to close his eyes and dig his nails into his hands. He was not running away. He wasn’t the same little octo-mer that hid away from the world. 

Just as soon as he had left, Floyd was back, and he had a tag-along. “And Shrimpy is joining us in the hunt!~”

Without thinking, both Azul and you stepped forward, being drawn together by an invisible force. And suddenly everything was silent. Sing. Azul’s mouth opened and shut, but nothing came out. He didn’t have to start though, as you sang the first notes, and he joined in. The two of you stood there, humming your harmony. And all those thoughts that plagued his mind earlier vanished, knowing that you were the right one. That the Sea Witch knew that you were the only one for him.

…

Bonus!

Jade and Floyd looked at the two of you curiously, with Jade having to hold back Floyd from interrupting the tender moment.

“Wondering if Shrimpy will stay human or decide to turn into a mer,” Floyd whispered to Jade. “Would they be a shrimp or octo-mer, to match with Azul?”

Jade turned his attention away from the two soul matches, “That’s for them and Azul to decide, we shouldn’t meddle.”

Floyd shot him a pout, “But when you meddle it’s fine? How did you even know they were soul matches in the first place?”

“It wasn’t all that hard,” he quipped. “I heard the Prefect sing some of the lyrics under their breath, and I also heard Azul quietly singing them as well.”

“See, meddling.~” Floyd looked at his brother expectantly, “Well, what were they?”

Jade looked at you and Azul, still humming the song to each other, a soft smile coming to rest on his face. “I believe it was, ‘Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down.’ Quite sweet if you think about it.”

Floyd also smiled, looking at the two soul matches. “Heh, it suits them.~”

. . . . .

Fin!

Now I dare you to read this again, knowing full well what the song is, because I swear it will make you see it in a different light and have you cracking up in parts. Please don't kill me, love you!

Link to Masterlist

[sailoryooons]

Carved | Four | jjk (m)

→ Summary: Hundreds of years after the Underworld wins the war, Vaesen - demon kind - rule the Realms. The Vanir - creatures of light and the Heavens - are hunted and enslaved by Vaesen. When the demon prince Jungkook is given one of the Carved - angels who have been stripped of their wings - he has no idea what to do with you. You, however, have plans you are determined to see through. Even if it means death in the end.

→ Pairing: demon!Jungkook x angel!female reader

→ Rating: NSFW & 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging with this content. Any minors discovered interacting with adult content will be blocked immediately.

→ Type: Series

→ Genre: dystopian, urban fantasy, enemies to lovers, angst

→ Pairing: 8,254

→ Warnings: Graphic depiction of violence and fighting, graphic depiction of death and gore, depictions of death (including, but not describing the death of a child and family members), semi-complex fight scenes, mentions of manipulation and power imbalance, reader purposefully seducing Jungkook to get what she wants, mentions of something similar to subspace and reader taking advance of Jungkook in a subspace like state mentally, explicit language, power imbalances and mentions of enslaved creatures, Jungkook and reader get a little violent with one another but like.. in a pleasure able way so here we go for the sexually explicit warnings, reader goading Jungkook, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, Jungkook kinda gets right too it, rough, slapping and biting, Jungkook being pretty rough and slamming reader around and shoving her into things, vulnerable mental states and manipulation, mild dirty talk tbh this sex scene is incredibly mild in terms of what I usually do, ummm I don't know guys it's a dark urban fantasy with weird shit, unedited should be a warning because I did a grammarly check and nothing else oops. ALSO PLS KEEP IN MIND THIS SEX SCENE IS BLAND BECAUSE OF THE SPECIFIC SCENARIO THEY ARE IN. I ASSURE YOU MUCH MORE DETAILED AND EXPLICIT SMUT IS IN THE FUTURE, BUT IT WASNT THE VIBE HERE

→ Main Masterlist: here

→ Series Masterlist: here

→ faq 

A/N: IT'S FINALLY HERE. Sorry this was so delayed. I was dealing with writers block pretty severely, work has been really crazy and demanding, I've been really tired and also my mentally manipulative ex-boyfriend decided to unalive himself so that was a weird week, I was trying to find new apartments and yeah this chapter has been re-written at least 5 times. Also I apologize I said fuck it we ball and this is absolutely only edited with a grammarly check. I will edit in full tomorrow but I do not have the brain capacity to do it right now, she is Tapped Out but I promised I would post this mf chapter tonight. Does any one have any theories as to what's going on yet teehee.

©2022 haliiimede. all rights reserved. Reposting and/or translating is not allowed, even if you credit the story. Works are only crossposted on AO3. Find my AO3 here.

Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgement or representation of real life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. BTS is not BTS culturally, intellectually, physically or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.

/ PREVIOUS / NEXT CHAPTER /

Screams split the air. For a second, you hesitate, turning to the source of the chaos. It erupts beyond the door, startling several Vaesen inside of the room. You react first, shooting toward the door with Taehyung and Jungkook on your heels.

The sound that greets you is a symphony of shattering glass, surprised screams and varying degrees of carnage. A table flips in front of you as you enter the main ballroom. You sidestep it easily as it fractures against Taehyung, who hardly flinches before vanishing into the surging crowd of running and swarming Vaesen and Vanir.

With careful movements, you slid out of your heels, feet pressing against broken glass. It doesn’t bite or cut your skin – only real weapons can do that – but it’s uncomfortable as you take a defensive stance, aware how vulnerable you are in a tiny, sheer dress and no weapon.

Blood-slicked floors greet you. The screams of the Vaesen make your lips twitch upward slightly. Chaos has erupted in a tableau of overturned tables, shattered champagne glasses, pearl-draped demons hiding behind fractured, round tables, and a dark, wet hissing sound.

Whatever creatures have entered the room smell wrong, like honey gone sour or sweet cream curdled. Your eyes sweep the painting of chaos before you.

And then you see them.

Your heart stills for one painfully long second, stretched like skin pulled too tight over bone. They’re… seraphim but not.

The creatures have dark, pitted eyes with black veins rippling over sallow skin. They’re naked and feature no distinct gender, appearing stitched together. Their ribs are prominent and you’re unsure if it’s by design or emaciation. There are mismatched wings on their bodies, opening and closing uncontrollably at awkward intervals and angles like they don’t know how to use them - or maybe can’t.

A creature lets out a screech and cuts a vampire lord in half, blood spraying the wall like watercolor on canvas. There is a dozen of them, and they all have swords, crudely shaped but you can almost taste the adamas in the swords.

Fucking hells. They have swords of Heaven.

Jungkook appears at your side, dark eyes scanning the room as the Not-Seraphim spread throughout, cutting through screaming party goers who are unarmed beyond their own fangs and teeth. You can scent gore in the air and your blood hums: it smells like a killing pitch.

“Reaper.” Jungkook says the name like a command. The name is both yours and not yours. It is one of many names. One of many people you are. His voice slithers down your back, eliciting a shiver. He holds out a dagger. Reaper is the person Jungkook needs you to be. “Find my niece.”

You take the dagger and come alive. The hellstone throbs in your hand, metal carved from the deepest pits of the underworld and forged in hellfire. You tighten your grip and move forward.

One step and you’re in front of one of the Not Angels. It cocks it’s head and pauses, a series of clicks slipping through black, jagged teeth and a weeping mouth.  

A second step and death follows you.

Flesh burns. It singes your nose, something like spoiled flesh and rotten eggs. You can taste the sulfur as the creature wilts to the floor, body still twitching after decapitation. You bend over, snatching up the poorly made sword. It’s sharp enough, but the handle is crude and the blade is splotchy, mixed with many metals.

It hums in your hand, a pulse of power crawling through your palm and fingers like an electric current. You recognize the feel of adamas, a metal only found in Heaven realms deep in cloud-ringed mountains. For a moment your mind drifts, suspended between memory and imagination. You can almost see it: tangerine pink skies, the smell of orange blossoms, wind that is neither cold nor warm.

A creature lunges at you and the dream melts away. You duck under the blow, striking out with the dagger. It plunges to the hilt, a wet crack sounding as you puncture its ribcage. It screams and spittle flies. It doesn’t react to the knife, clawing toward you and opening a split maw of blood and black.

Cringing backward, you push with the dagger, shoving the creature away to provide space for the swing of your sword. The head severs, hitting the ground with a thud before rolling away. The body jerks, remaining vertical for a moment. Ripping your knife out, you send the lifeless body to the ground where it remains dead.

Interesting.

Another creature replaces the felled one, no weapon in hand but claws raking out at you. You shuffle backward, ducking away from the swiping talons. The creature flaps its wings once – the only one with functional wings, it seems – and surges forward, catching you off guard.

It knocks into you with the weight of a brick wall. The air leaves your lungs and you go down with the creature, it’s talons catching the flesh on your right bicep. You scream at the burn and fuck it burns. You look at where your skin burns black and wilted in three, jagged lines.

A blue-sparked flame catches your attention on the creature’s hands as it gnashes at you. You grab it around the throat, keeping razor teeth away from your face as drool and something else drips on your face. Your eyes zero in on the flame that comes and goes like it can’t control the heat on the tips of its fingers.

Hellfire, you realize.

Your mind expands, a searching radar for Jungkook. You sense him immediately, his mind like mist and rain tinged with hatred. His emotions are in turmoil, a churning storm of icy rain that bites into your thoughts and razor-sharp wind. There is a sense of no control, Jungkook’s churning storm ripping through his energies with something like feral-laced panic on the edges.

Jungkook, you call to him, feeding him your emotions as you shove back at the gnashing teeth of the creature pinning you down. He ignores you, his storm too volatile to sense you. You push harder, imagining that you’re brushing cool water down the bridge of your connection.

Jungkook flinches when he feels you. The storm pauses, like passing into the eye as the chaos settles around him. You use the opportunity to speak again. They can use Hellfire.

It takes a moment for him to respond. Understood.

Pulling away from the connection, you keep your minds tethered. The crackling energy and harsh storm stirs again when you pull from his mind, but it’s not as out of control as before, the thread between you an anchor as he refocuses on his own task.

Lightning crackles under your fingers as you shove with your hand, putting all your force into where you push back on the monster above you. The creature topples backward as you roll to your feet, movement fluid. Your dress is ripping near the throat, threatening to tear. You curse, begging the fabric to stay on a little longer.

You have no intention of fighting while spilling out of your dress.

Electricity charges in the room. Unchoked, you feel the thunder of your power looming on the horizon. Every time you call the lightning to you feels like a rush of adrenaline, the sparks dancing along every nerve of your body, lighting you up from the inside out.

This is your power. There is a moment where you consider letting it all go. You could supernova right where you stand, destroying everything within several miles. You know you have the capability – it's something you’ve dreamed of doing for years.

But it’s just a dream, and your dreams do not align with your goal.

Reigning in the urge to destroy destroy destroy, you instead focus the lightning on the creatures closest to you. The bolts let out a loud crack as you direct the energy to your targets. There is a flash and the smell of burnt skin and corpse, but you ignore it, pushing toward a forming group in the corner of the ballroom.

There is a concentration of fighting Vaesen, screaming and creatures near where you remember seeing Jungkook’s niece last. A body topples in front of you, and you step over it- later you will remember that it was a collared Vanir, naked and still tied to a chair on its leash.

You see Jihoon– he's covered in something black and slick, kicking out at one of the creatures. He has a single dagger in his hand, a retinue of guards dead at his feet, and you can hear the high-pitched scream of his daughter behind him. A single step in their direction is blocked by more creatures, hissing and clicking at you.

Jungkook appears at your side, covered in gore. His hands are black to the wrist, dripping in... something. You realize he’s fighting without a weapon.

“Are you ripping through them?”

“I gave you my knife,” he snaps. His mind brushes against yours, a torrent of chaos and loud noises and anger so hot you waver. You toss the dagger to him, spinning your new sword in your hand. “I think beheading them is the only thing that works.”

“Yeah, I discovered that thanks.”

A vampire gets turned to mist and splatter in front of you. You feel the hot blood hit your face. It smells metallic and like Synth from his last meal.

“Can you-”

You see it in his mind. The lightning that you can summon to destroy worlds. You nod once, summing the crackling energy inside of you.

A high-pitched scream interrupts you. Your eyes zero in on Kita, hiding under a table as her mother pulls the girl tight against her chest, baring her teeth. There's a red aura around her as she snaps her teeth at one of the creatures, a red arch of fire snapping out.

Fox fire.

Kita tries to imitate her mother, crying through barred teeth and a tiny flicker of flame humming around her. There are creatures closing in and you feel the snap of your power, targeting the creatures in a large area.

Power ripples in the room. You feel the urge to kill kill kill again. To destroy. To light the entire room up and burn it all down. You’ve done it before. You know the taste and smell of annihilation. You know the feeling of death brushing past you as he collects his dead.

The crack of a whip. A scream of agony. Blood in your mouth your hands your ears your neck, your arms-

You push away the desire to rebel. It burns bright, a hot coal ready to catch fire but you smother it. Pretend it isn’t there.

Rising up at the wrong time does nothing. Freeing yourself a long game. Giving in to your rage means failure, and you have failed and failed and failed and failed and -

The room flashes bright. Colors dance behind your eyes as you let go of the power. For a moment, everything is silent. The world is warped, the sulfur air charged with electricity. You feel the static tickle the nap of your neck, your arms, your mind.

You look around. There are no more creatures standing, black wisps of smoke curling toward a scorched ceiling. Dust motes float down. You stick out a hand, finger pointed as one lands on your finger. You realize it’s soot, the leftovers from the creatures you’ve thoroughly crisped.

Around the room, life – or what’s left of it – begins to stir. Glass crunches beneath feet and the sound of tables being righted sounds booming in the silence of destruction.

Jungkook and Ji-Hoon are on their knees, ducked under the table as they coax Kita and her mother from their hiding spot.

You assess the damage, eyes scanning the room and catching on golden collars. Diamonds resting on the hollow of still throats. Snapped gossamer wings under a broken body. A platinum leash tangled in a chair, its nymph counterpart missing her lower half.

There are more Vanir than Vaesen among the dead. Caught up in leashes and collars. Stuck in a brass birdcage. Shackled to a table. Your stomach turns but you don’t focus on the faces. Committing them to memory makes them mean something and nothing means anything to you.

“Reaper.” Jungkook’s voices radiates the space between you and the space unseen, echoing in your mind. You turn to look at him. He has a firm grip on Kita, the child pressed to his side as Ji-Hoon argues with his wife silently. “We are escorting them out.”

“We’re with you.” The oily voice makes you stiffen. You don’t have to turn to see Taehyung among the aftermath. You do see the kitsune lingering off to the side, his dark eyes flickering from the ashes to you. “Both of us.”

Jungkook bows his head. “They were concentrated around Ji-Hoon and none of his men remain. It’s safe to assume he’s a target. Reaper and Yoongi with Kita and Daiyu. Taehyung with us.”

Taehyung moves past you, no longer interested in teasing you. Jungkook presses close to his brother and you press Kita and Daiyu between you and Yoongi. The huli jing looks at you skeptically, holding her daughter’s hand fiercely. You don’t give it much thought, following Jungkook’s lead as he leads your group through a service entrance.

It smells like sulfur and rot. Damp air clings to your skin, forming a sticky second layer. You grimace. The clack of dress shoes is loud against the tile floors. The hall is too narrow for you to walk in groups, meant for only a few Vanir to come and go at a time. You move quickly in single file line, Yoongi at the front with Kita and Daiyu between you.

Jungkook’s mind waivers on the edge of yours. You can feel that he’s aware of you, as though he is turning over his should to see if you’re still there. You can’t see him from the back of the line, but he doesn’t severe the connection.

Probably don’t know how.

Servant corridors are long and complicated. When Jungkook approaches a split, he takes one hall over another confidently. You peek into his mind, seeing the flash of blueprints and memory of a layout on a screen.

You know the layout of the servant halls, you observe. Down your connection, you sense him flinching. You knew you would be attacked?

No. His voice is curt. His mind is a dark storm, words cutting through hissing rain. But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But what?

Focus on your task.

Your lips twitch and you feel him draw away from you a bit. But what? You wonder. He was hiding something and that just wouldn’t do. Cutting into his mind would be as easy as clipping the wings of a butterfly. But you leave Jungkook alone for now, following the dark hall, Taehyung and Jihoon’s hushed voices drifting toward you.

A small door in the hall, nearly invisible leads to a tunnel. You can still see flitting images and thoughts across Jungkook’s memory. He has no control to his thoughts, no way to block you out. He is unaware of the danger you present to his mind, laid open for the taking.

And yet you don’t.

The ground slopes beneath your feet. Your press your fingers on the wall, casting your senses. There’s damp, empty air on the other side of the wall and you can hear the hush of slow floating water. Above you, the ceiling vibrates. You’re in a tunnel in the sewers.

Your eyes drift to Jungkook. He was trained in escape routes in the building. And seemed to be one of the few Vaesen armed at the party.

Unarmed Vaesen. The thought leads you somewhere between pleasure and contempt. Only the creatures of the Underworlds could be so arrogant as to think they have nothing to fear. In a way, they don’t. Demons and their kind are the apex predators, the top of the food chain.

But even among themselves, enemies lurk.

The sheer stupidity is comforting – the knowledge that it comes at the expense of how little of a threat Vanir pose, is not.

A cool awareness brushes against the nape of your neck. You pause, the echoes of shoes and Kita sniffing silently ahead reverberating off the walls. Your instinct flickers and you turn your head a fraction, angling your ear toward the way you came.

Silence stretches and stretches. You frown, stretching out the net of your mind. It’s a strange feeling, opening that barrier and sense of other. It’s not a psychic ability as much as it is sensing energy, magic, and existence, something many Vanier and Vaesen alike can do.

At first, there is nothing but empty space. Ahead of you, your group pushes on. They don’t notice that you’ve stopped entirely, head cocked and tense.

Then you hear it – or at least perceive it. A soft hiss, the smell of death.

They’re here, you hiss down the tether between you and Jungkook. You feel his surprise and then his anger as you turn to face the back of the tunnel. Keep going and let me know when you’re out of the tunnel. If I light up in here, you’re going down too.

Good to know you care.

You scoff. I still have use for you, Dominus.

Something like irritation and resentment slithers down the connection from Jungkook. It makes you smirk, pleased at offering opposition. It’s been a long time since you could openly oppose someone the way you now can. It’s a risk, but it’s a calculated one.

Sometimes you must let the monster in to give it a sense of comfort. You remember the lesson. You think about the Vaesen who so easily move about the world without weapons.

Yes, letting Jungkook see parts of you is necessary. Dangerous, but ultimately worth it.

Shuffling, stilted movements echo toward you. Sliding your feet apart and bent slightly at the knee, you wait in a defensive stance. You leave the connection to Jungkook open. As you wait for the creatures to reach you, you periodically drift to observe Jungkook and the others. They’re making quick work rushing through a network of tunnels, moving faster now that there is a threat.

Lightning will do you no good in an enclosed space. While you won’t kill yourself, the walls of the tunnel are reinforced with metal rods and bracketing, a perfect conduit for electricity. With the running water crisscrossing in the sewer system just behind, you’re positive you’ll light up half of the underground network if you try it.

So you wait. Sword in your hand. Poised.

The first creature slides into your line of sight. The corridor is dark and without light, the shapes of the bent wings in a small space almost comical. They cannot move more than one at a time, a single file line of twisted limbs and rotten smell.

It sees you and pauses. There are soft clicks, the sounds bouncing back and forth. You frown, watching as they all stop moving, the clicks drifting between them at different intervals and cadences like… a language.

They’re speaking.

Whatever they are, they have some sort of intelligence. The humanoid shapes are all wrong, but you can vaguely sense something thrumming inside of them that is both like you and not. Your stomach flips at the implication that you can sense the creatures the way you sense Jungkook stopped at a fork in the tunnels, unsure of which way to go.

The clicking stops. You turn your attention away from Jungkook, narrowing that feed of awareness tied to him to the barest thread. For a moment, you and the first creature stare at one another. The next moment, it’s charging forward faster than you expect.

You duck as the creature slams into you. The breath leaves your lungs, feeling as though you’d been hit with the force of a thick wall, but you push up with your back as the creature topples over you, sending it sprawling. Your sword hand is fast, flicking in an arch to sever the head as the creature stumbles to regain balance.

The narrow space immediately becomes a problem. The next creature is on you, teeth snapping hungrily as you back up, stepping and slipping slightly on the ichor leaking from the dead body beneath your feet. There’s no room to swing your sword, so you’re forced to twitch the blade back and forth, parrying sharp stabs from your assailant.

Just like the creatures in the ballroom, these are uncoordinated. Their stabs aren’t fast enough, joints cracking and twisting awkwardly in lurching motions as they attack. Cutting through them is difficult in the lack of space. They press in on you, making you track backward to give yourself more room to fight. It’s not ideal – you’re leading them toward where Jungkook and the others have started moving again.

“Fuck,” you snarl, tasting foul ichor on your tongue as it sprays you from a sharp wound on the neck of one of them. It bellows and claws forward.

Summoning air in the tunnel you thrust a hand out, punching toward them with wind. It rips through the halls, whistling as the air rushes past you in violent torrents. It slams into creatures, propelling them backward.

While they’re crumpled and disorganized in a pile, you take ground back, advancing on them. They clamor over one another, shrieking and twitching their wings as they regain a sense of control. You summon wind again, ready to send another blast when a raw scream rips down your mental tether with Jungkook.

It’s violent and invasive, prying open your connection and funneling unfiltered pain and wrath into your own mind. Your vision goes white for a second as the emotional tidal wave of Jungkook overwhelms you, unexpected and uncontrolled.

A spark of blue is the only warning you get from one of the hellish creatures. You barely react in time, summoning wind again at a greater force. It screams toward you, quick enough to meet the blue flame of Hellfire as it fills the hallway.

Heat scorches against air. You scream in alarm. For a moment, you think your makeshift airwall won’t be enough to keep you from being turned to soot.

It holds, a steady wind current coming down the tunnel. Dust, dirt, and mice get picked up in your vacuum, spinning and slamming into the solid, opaque wall of air. You keep your energy focused on the wind as much as you can, Jungkook’s mental screaming almost too much of a distraction as you try and close the mental door between the two of you.

But Jungkook is untrained and the son of Sariel. His connection to you is strong and whatever he’s experiencing on the other side of the tunnel system is a deeper well than you knew he was capable of.

Gritting your teeth, you dig down into your well of power. It’s always there, a bottomless pit of energy and ability to use your gifts. Some witches call it magic. Faeries call it glamour. Angels call it grace and there is a spark of it there, tiny and imperfect, but enough for you to sustain the wind and shut the door on Jungkook just enough.

Snippets rush by you. They’re at the mouth of an entrance somewhere – almost out of the tunnel system. But they’re fighting – you sense more creatures and… others. Demons. Jungkook’s rage is a storm, battering down on your connection to him and exploding out of him as he fights.

Get out of the tunnels, you demand. Jungkook I need you to at least get out of the tunnels.

There is no acknowledgment that he’s heard you. There’s only screaming wind, the song of his fury, and heat building up on the other side of your wall. You smell molten metal and realize the creatures are going to bring everything down.

Jungkook, you scream at him. There is nothing on the other side, just anger threatening to swallow him whole. Jungkook!

Nothing.

Gritting your teeth, you shift a few steps back. You take a deep breath, feeling the heat on the other side of your air wall, and you shove hard through your mental tether. You feel Jungkook’s awareness, fire and rain. He feels you now.

Get out the fucking tunnel or I will kill all of you. This is your last warning.

And it is. Jungkook is useful. Using him is easier than the alternative, and having to come up with an additional plan after killing him while trying to escape the city is far too complicated, and near the realm of impossibility.

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You feel the slick on your legs and your palms, the air over-warm. It continues to get hotter and hotter, kicking up several notches. Azure swims on the other side of the air you feed into your protect. It flares, growing stronger off the oxygen you provide it, but you have no other choice.

Silver drips from the ceiling. You look up, spotting liquified metal oozing through the earth’s ceiling.

Go. Jungkook’s voice is nearly a whisper. You realize you’re screaming with the force of the power you’re feeding into your wind. His words are like a release, a flip switching as you dive headfirst into the electric current of your lightning.

It’s an explosion. Heat and electricity meet in a caustic battle, the walls and floor rumbling as your lightning pulses from you more like a wave than bolts. You hear the crack, feel it vibrate your ears, and then there is only loud ringing as you stumble backward.

Dust, ash, and metal fill the air. You’ve brought down half the tunnel and you’re splayed on your ass.

Rolling over on your stomach, you try and push yourself to your feet. You slide in dirt and darkness. It’s difficult to breathe, the air filled with static and heated enough that your skin feels like you’re on fire. You manage to find footing and retreat towards where Jungkook and the others have gone.

Nothing follows you.

The high-pitched ringing does not leave you. A bit dizzy, you follow the thread of Jungkook’s existence, feeling the thread between you pull you toward him. His rage has turned to agony, and you know someone is dead, though you cannot discern who.

When you finally reach the surface, you understand.

There are masked Vaesen littered around an empty warehouse. You’re close to the Celadon River, the taste of salt in the air as it filters in from the sea. You cannot hear beyond the scream of your damaged ears, but the wind here is cool, coming in through a giant hole in the ceiling, freshly singed.

Similar creatures that hunted you into the halls lay in pieces. Jungkook stands expressionless, ringed by bodies. It seems the fight was centered on him, death laying quietly at his feet. Yoongi and Taehyung stand a few feet away, expressionless. Watching.

A single shaft of moonlight shines on Jungkook through the broken ceiling. It paints half of his face silver, his eye rimmed silver. The rest of his face in shadow. It’s an eerie picture, half of him light and dark, split between two worlds. A child slithers down your spine as your eyes drift away from the thunder in his expression to his feet, where his eyes are fixed and you see the source of his unending agony.

Jihoon and his family are no more.

-

Namjoon is the only other person at the apartment. You eye him warily as he stands in the living room, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watches the holoscreen. Images of the party flash on the screen. There are videos from security cameras, starlets filming the chaos while at the party, and media drones outside of the building as the police force descended on the scene.

Reporters stand in the carnage. There are still broken bodies of Vanir, stepped over as the reporters lead their filming drones through the rooms. You can see Vanir tied to leashes on chairs. Again, you don’t look at their faces.

After appearing from the tunnel to find Jihoon and his family dead, you were ushered home immediately. You went without negotiation, casting a single look at Jungkook. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, his expression flitting between exquisite pain and nothingness.

Sensing your presence, Namjoon turns his head a fraction to look at you. His eyes harden and his jaw flexes, onyx eyes not leaving you for a second. You remember your perceived place with him, casting your eyes to the screen to ignore the way he burns holes through you with just a look.

“Go away,” he grunts. “Your presence is bothersome.”

“I’m sorry, dominus.” You make your voice light and airy. “Why has master not come home with me?”

Calling Jungkook master burns your tongue. You make yourself look small, tucking your chin to your chest and curving your shoulders inward, like you’re bracing to be hit. You play with the hem of your shirt, which is too big like the rest of your clothes.

Namjoon scoffs, not buying it. “Because he has to deal with this fucking mess.”

“I should be with master- “

“Drop the act. Whatever you are, it isn’t Carved. If Jungkook wants to keep you and do whatever he wants with you, that’s fine.” You glance up at him. He stares you dead in the eye. “But I don’t like you and I don’t trust you. Stay in your lane, I’ll stay in mine.”

Namjoon leaves the room, the holoscreen casting blue light on the empty space. You listen to him go. He goes to his own room at the far end of the apartment and shuts the door loudly.

“Dick,” you mutter, entering the living room proper to look up at the screen.

The sound is muted, only showing the chaos. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name,” the apartment system responds, voice cool and clear. You recite your name. “Unregistered user.”

You snarl. “Elide, volume on.”

“State access name.”

“Jungkook.”

“Voice recognition failure.”

“Just turn the fucking volume on!”

The elevator door opens behind you. You whirl on your heel, teeth bared in frustration. Jungkook walks through the door, barely sparing you a glance as he says, “Stop yelling at the technology. I didn’t program you into the system.”

“I noticed.” He walks into the kitchen, tapping the corner of a cabinet. It unlocks and pops open, revealing shelves of liquor. He removes a bottle and taps the cabinet shut. “Didn’t think you needed it.”

“Well if you’d like me to get bored and burn the apartment down, that is an option.”

“Be my guest. I have others.”

“Humble.”

Dark rage hums under the surface. Jungkook moves around his kitchen slowly. He places a glass delicately on the counter, pulling the cork from the bottle before pouring himself amber liquid. You sniff. Whiskey of some sort.

Jungkook is silent, but his mind is a torrent of emotions. Blood pounds beneath the surface, a beast begging to escape. You can almost taste the chaos within him and yet… he keeps it there. Sipping his drink and leaning on the counter as he looks at the floor.

“Namjoon thinks I should kill you,” Jungkook mentions.

“Unsurprising.”

“Yoongi does too.”

You shrug. “The way of the fox is unknown to me.”

Jungkook’s mind is wide open. You reach for it while he sips his whiskey. He doesn’t register as you brush against his thoughts, trying to sort through them. His mental is in chaos, thoughts racing through his head and flashes of his brother being cut down. Of Kita’s screaming.

“Do you know what those things were?”

You picture the creatures at the party. Their staggered steps, their rotting breath. “Something made, not born.”

“What does that mean?”

“That means I’ve seen a lot of creatures for the hundreds of years that I have been alive, but I’ve never seen whatever those were. Those things are not natural.”

“Most of what is in this world isn’t natural.”

“They are not natural to any plane. I felt…” You trail off and shrug your shoulders.

Navigating his mind while it’s in chaos is hard. You’re looking for the thread of conversation from earlier that night, trying to understand what Jungkook had been talking about when he trailed off about being prepared for assassination attempts. But it’s convoluted and murky.

Jungkook glances up at you. His face is a mask. You must admit you’re impressed by the way he looks calm and collected with the storm raging inside of him, threatening to crack the façade at any moment. “Felt what?”

“You didn’t feel them? Like the way you feel me?”

“Are you telling me you’re one of- “

“No,” you cut him off. “Not in the sense of they are me. But you couldn’t feel them like… dots on a radar. Little signatures of something?” He shakes his head. You hum for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air before you say, “Your untrained mind nearly got me killed.”

A ripple of anger goes through him and his thoughts become more confusing. You sense him boiling under the surface, a steady tremor building and building and building.

A frenzy. Jungkook is nearing a frenzy. If you could get him to fall into it…. you examine him. Coming down from a frenzy would put him in a state of compliance and exhaustion, making his mind open to sift through like forgotten paperwork.

You decide to incense him.

 “I mean it,” you snap when he doesn’t answer you. You square your shoulders and let your power drop into the room. “Your level of incompetence is worse than seraphim children. Total lack of discipline and an embarrassment to someone who was sired by Sariel.”

A flip switches.

Jungkook is pushing off the counter and moving toward you but you stand your ground, chin lifted, gaze cutting. His mask has slipped a fraction, lip curled. “What did you just say?”

“I said that your utter lack of control is insulting and beneath your station.”

“You are in no position to speak to me like that.”

You splay your hands. Jungkook heaves a few feet away from him. You see the wheels turning, sense his adrenaline shooting upward. You needle him further. “I think we both agreed that here, I’m in a position to do whatever I want.”

Jungkook is fast. He’s in front of you in moments, hand shooting out to grab you by the throat. You’re not surprised by the action as he slams you against a wall, sneering. But you are surprised by the giddy delight that shoots up your spine as his fingers close tightly around your base.

When he squeezes, it isn’t to cut off your air supply. You recognize the sign of dominance, the grip he has on a vulnerable part of you. It’s the most instinctual form of an alpha trying to regain the upper hand and you’re so delighted that you laugh.

“I own you,” Jungkook whispers. “Whether you want it, or whether I want to. I signed your papers. You are legally mine.”

You lift a leg and wrap it around Jungkook’s waist, tugging him toward you. He balks, hand going slack around your throat as your hips press against his. A wave of pleasure rolls through you but you focus on the way Jungkook stutters, pulling back from you.

“Yeah?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You have the upper hand, dominus?” His fingers tighten but he doesn’t respond. You roll your hips into his, feeling the confidence from a moment ago slip through his fingers like sand. “What happened? I thought you owned me?”

“You are walking a dangerous line.”

“You’re doing nothing about it.”

“What do you want from me?” he grits out, teeth clenched. He’s shaking, loss of control so near.

“You own me?” you goad. “Then fucking use me, Jungkook. You’re two seconds from a fucking demonic frenzy and you don’t even have the sense to fall into it.”

“I don’t do that.”

You lean forward. He leans away but you crowd his space, eyes searching. You notice a mole just below his flush mouth, something you’ve never seen before. It’s soft. Endearing. You ignore the observation as your mouth brushes close to his, sharing breath.

“You’re afraid of your demon,” you purr. He says nothing, breathing heavily as he watches you, pupils dilated. “Weak.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then feed the demon, Jungkook.”

Jungkook hesitate. You watch him, his jaw working and his eyes staring at you. You see the moment he gives over control to the demon part of him, pupils turning into saucers as his hand grips your throat tight. He leans forward, pressing in on your space until you’re chest to chest and his mouth is at the shell of your ear.

“If you wanted me to fuck you, why didn’t you just ask?”

Your hands go to his biceps, digging your nails in. He hisses, fingers pressing into the sides of your neck to restrict your breathing. “I thought you owned me,” you taunt. “I’m allowed to ask?”

It’s the final push he needs.

A shift happens in Jungkook. Swiftly, he drops you and flips you, slamming you chest first into the wall. It knocks the wind from your lungs, making you gasp as he crushes himself against you, nosing your ear. His breath is hot, sending chills down your spine. You grin, knowing you’ve got him going in the right direction.

You press your ass backwards into him, feeling his semi-hard cock in his pants. In his state, it doesn’t even need to be you Jungkook is attracted to. His demon side is wild, hungry to do anything to destroy, to fuck, to kill.

Demon frenzies enhance lust and violence, like adding fuel to a fire. Jungkook’s flame is stoked, his agony over his family members and his frustration blinding him as he rips the back of your shirt open, your scares and flesh on display for him.

“You want to be fucked like I own you?” he asks, voice low. “Fine.”

It's nothing new, being fucked like you’re owned. But this is different – it feels different. When Jungkook’s hands brush up your spine, they’re not violent. They’re inquisitive. Callused. You shiver under his touch, eyes shutting as he pulls the fabric of the ruined shirt off you.

Your nipples are pressed to the wall, providing friction. You give into it, letting that blissful stimulation bloom inside of you as he nudges your head to the side with his nose.

“Spread your legs,” he demands. His voice is barely a whisper. You do. “Not so talkative now, are we?”

“Is my commentating part of fucking me like you own me, dominus?”

A loud rip splits the air. Jungkook tears through your sweats, warm hands seeking the flesh of your ass. He grips your cheeks firmly, massaging the flesh as he ruts against you slightly. You moan, surprisingly not for effect but at the way you feel.

Rare is the occasion in which someone made you feel good during sex. It isn’t what you’re after, but it’s a bonus, letting Jungkook slip his hand between your legs to brush his finger through your folds. You're not dripping for him, but you let out a breathy sound as pleasure unfurls low in your stomach when he does it.

Even out of control Jungkook shows restrain. Your fascinated, split between panting against the wall as Jungkook’s skill fingers circle your clenching hole, gathering your wetness to slip toward your clit, applying light pressure as he circles the bundle of nerves.

Jungkook dedicates time to getting you worked up. His breath is warm against your ear, low grunts shooting more arousal straight to your core. For the first time in years, you’re dripping for someone. You can feel the slick on Jungkook’s fingers, your pussy warm and swollen for him as he continues to play with you.

Taking control of Jungkook’s thoughts is far from your mind now. You're distracted, fists pressing into the wall as Jungkook slips a finger into your entrance. You gasp, the pad of his finger brushing against your front wall, massaging your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you swear, seeing stars.

It becomes clear Jungkook knows what he’s doing, fucking his finger into you. You can hear the wet-slap of his hand against your pussy, worked up for him now as his clothed cock presses into your ass cheek.

“Such a tight fucking pussy,” he mutters. He doesn't seem to be talking to you as much as himself. “Cock is never gonna fuckin’ fit in here. Hmm. Oh well.”

He pulls his finger from you. You let out an angry sound, eyes flying open to glare at him over your shoulder. He pops the finger in his mouth, momentarily dumbing you as you watch him suck the shine from his finger. He doesn’t look at you when he’s done, hand working to pop the button on his jeans and tug his cock out.

When you look down, you realize that Jungkook is right. He might not fit, and it sends a little thrill through you, watching the way his heavy cock bobs against his shirt, dabbing it with precum as Jungkook only pulls his pants down enough to fuck you.

You’ve spent years tirelessly bouncing on a variety of cock and diving between the legs of mistress after mistress. Sex is not a stranger to you. Sometimes you remember vaguely enjoying a thing or two. Sometimes even when you didn’t like it, your body at least orgasmed.

Being used is something familiar – but you’re not being used now. Even if Jungkook thinks you are. Even as he thumbs the precum from the dark tip of his cockhead to spread it down his thick shaft, Jungkook isn’t in control.

You remember that as Jungkook leisurely pumps himself before brushing the tip through your now sticky folds. You press your cheek against the wall, sighing as he teases you. It feels good. You reach out with your mind, brushing Jungkook’s sightly. His walls are down, vulnerable. Your sneer turns into a loud moan when Jungkook pushes into your pussy on the upstroke.

The stretch is painful, your stomach plummeting as Jungkook splits you open. The glide isn’t slow. His instincts take over and he immediately fucks into you hard and deep, slamming your hips into the wall with his full weight with every thrust.

Jungkook fucks the breath out of you. One hand presses your face into the wall, your cheekbones and jaw throbbing with the force of it. His other hand grabs your hips, holding you in position as he fucks himself into you hard.

Pain-laced pleasure shoots through you. The sounds that drip from your mouth isn’t for show. Your toes curl and your head swims at the way he takes control, fingers pressed into your flesh, cock pressing deep deep deep.

You lose yourself in the slap of flesh on flesh and curses. He spits insults at you, and you growl in response, biting one of his fingers that strays too close to your mouth. You taste blood, grinning as the salt and iron tinged with honey pulls on your tongue. He smacks your mouth, the stinging making you trill with high-pitched laughter.

“Crazy Carved bitch,” he slurs. “Is this what you fucking wanted? To be fucked like this?”

“Fuck me harder, Jungkook.”

He presses your skull harder into the wall. For a moment, you think it might crack under the pressure. But you don’t break, and Jungkook listens, driving into you at a pace that would break anyone else. Anything else. But it doesn’t break you and it feels good to know that it doesn’t. To feel the way your pussy flutters around him as he fucks you with abandon.

So many people have tried to break you. So many. Many have almost succeeded, and yet you prevail. You keep going. You survive. You move on. You wait. You win.

Your orgasm mounts. You feel it building inside of you like the same electricity that gathered in that small hall to destroy. It coils and coils and coils. You become short of breath, sucking in hair as you tremble under Jungkook’s weight. His mind is flayed open and raw for the taking but you wait. Not yet not yet not yet.

Jungkook picks up speed. You feel his pace get sloppy and the change in rhythm pushes you over the edge. You come around him with a scream, vision going white as you hold your breath. You feel your entire body seize up, thrashing under him. Jungkook presses you against the wall, trapping you and making you take it as he thrusts one – two – three more times before coming with a curse.

The pace slows. The sweaty tension between you begins to dissipate. You feel Jungkook pull himself out, cum immediately running down your legs. His energy is lower now and when you manage to catch your breath and look at him over your shoulder, he’s swaying on his feet, fucked out expression on his face. He’s flushed, tip of nose red.

Your legs are shaking and sticky. You take a step toward him feeling the slide of your thighs against one another, made slippery by cum. You hold out a hand and he stares at it, eyes wide, expression blank. He’s in the fall after a frenzy, somewhere dazed between thoughts in his head.

Tentatively, Jungkook takes your hand. You leave the torn clothes on the floor, you leave everything. Namjoon surely heard everything, but the Hellhound minds his business as you lead Jungkook to your room. The half demon, half angel is suddenly pliant for you. Soft at the edges. Mute.

You sit him on the bed and he stares at you. Unmoving. Unthinking.

Brushing your mind against his, you feel nothing but static. The buzz of his thoughts is unorganized and sleepy. You keep the connection open, stepping into the bathroom to wash the cum from your legs, the sweat from your back and the blood from your face. You had not even realized that he split your lip.

In your room, Jungkook doesn’t move. He is listless and calm, steady breathing letting you know that he hasn’t gone to sleep just yet, but that he’s not entirely present.

Slipping into clothes and back into the room, you stand in front of him, eyes flickering over his face. Jungkook looks at you but he’s not really there. A tiny part of you hesitates. Knows that to violate his mind has always been your greatest fear of yourself.

But life isn’t fair, and you have been a slave for hundreds of years. You have suffered and you will suffer again in the future. And though you see something in Jungkook that you recognize, you know that to spare him is to admit weakness.

Pain is inevitable. Pain is constant. Pain is power.

Jungkook knows nothing of these tenants. Knows nothing of the life his mother lived before him, her principles, her heritage.

Sympathy is something you cannot afford to give him. So you push into his mind, seizing his thoughts. He doesn’t put up a fight. He hardly knows what you’re doing as you begin sorting through what’s there.

Minds are unique to each person. Though some of your fallen companions had similarities in the way their memories and thoughts were laid out, everyone had something unique. Jungkook’s mind feels like a thunderstorm at night, soft with the threat of something more. Something melancholy plays there, a tune that is familiar, but you cannot place.

You sift through the night's events. You see things through his eyes. Feel the contempt for those around him. Feel the apathy for the Vanir leashed to chairs and in cages. Feel the unfettered spark of adoration when he sees Kita. Feel the love for his brother, though you had not sensed it upon meeting Jihoon.

And there is love there. Maybe not in the form that humans or texts perceive it. But you taste the sweetness of the affection, and you understand that there are positive emotions when Jungkook looks at his older brother, no matter how complicated.

You sift through to running through the tunnels. Jungkook feels glad that he prepared. They had been worried as of late – there were confirmed movements of the rebel group Libram in the city. Confirmations of assets destroyed and vanishing members of the local government.

This surprises you. You were not aware that the rebels were so familiar with the city yet. The thought of the free cities is so distant from you that it feels odd to conceptualize that there are members of their organization in Lythos.

You follow the thread of Jungkook’s conversation with you from earlier.

But we are always prepared. It’s not often that someone tries to assassinate us, but...

But Jungkook had known that there was a growing presence of Libram in the city. And Belial had tortured you repeatedly for information on Libram, looking for any connection to the rebellion. To Michael. To the last remaining seraphim across the worlds.

You take a sharp breath. Jungkook’s feelings regarding Libram were wary. Laced with uncertainty and fear. You follow those thoughts, flipping through his memories looking for more information. Four assassinations on government officials. The destruction of one of the Kim’s synth mines. Liquidation of accounts that belonged to Belial through unknown methods and hackers.

For as long as you had belonged to Faustus to fight, you had kept your head down. You focused on living. Small moves and counter moves. You had not been looking for any news of Libram or their existence in the city, and until now, you had thought there weren’t many in the city. Whispers of the potential but nothing like what you’re seeing in Jungkook’s thoughts.

Carefully, you extract your mind from his and sit on the bed. With him tired and swaying, you offer him a nudge to go to sleep. He lays backwards, dark lashes fluttering shut. You watch him for a while, thoughts ruminating on the new information.

Libram being in the city is a factor that you did not calculate. You chew on your lips as you think of your next move. One way to gather the information you need would be through your Vanir contacts. You have so few. But the best way to get good information is through your Vaesen contacts, which are even fewer.

You think about the twisted creatures that killed Jungkook’s family. They did seem like... angels and demons twisted together. Like the stitching together of things that didn’t belong. Half-demons, half-angels were rare to begin with. But it was like they were trying to make something else.

Belial’s question comes back to you about Lilins. The children of Lilith herself, born from her savage rape of the Heavens, but specifically, the archangels. Unique creatures, with the perfectbalance. Enough demon blood to hide the angelic blood, and enough angelic blood to hide the demon.

The flicker of familiarity you felt when fighting those creatures sends a sinking feeling to the pit of your stomach. You look at Jungkook, asleep. He looks gentle in his sleep, lines smoothed out on his face. Round and childlike.

In the morning, you’ll go back to pretending. But for now, you pull your knees to your chest, setting your chin on top of them as you consider the options before deciding that you need to follow the sick feeling that twists your gut.

Because if you’re suspicions are right... Libram made those creatures that killed Jungkook’s family tonight, targeting Belial and his children. It puts you in a dangerous position, but also a favorable one if Libram discovers your existence and grows curious about how useful you might be.

Yet none of it relieves you. Because if those creatures are what you think they are, there are seraphim in the world that are trying to bring Lilins back to the fight. Lilins, the creatures solely responsible for bringing the Heavens down.

-

D E F I N I T I O N S

Adamas - metal made from the Heavens, favorite in weapons used by angels and fae

Carved – angels who have had their wings surgically removed and sold for ownership. The possession of an angel’s wings gives the owner power over the angel’s grace, thereby giving them power over the angel.

Collared – a Vanir who is owned as a slave. They are often identifiable by the custom collars their masters put on their necks.

Dominus – term used by a slave to their male identifying master

Huli jing - Chinese fox spirit; similar to the Kitsune

Lilins - the offspring of the First Demon, Lilith, an the seraphim, most notably with the angels Uriel and Raphael. They are the perfect balance of Vanir and Vaesen and were used as spies during the war.

Seraph - a single angel, one of the seraphim

Seraphim - species of angels associated with Christian heaven, soldiers of God

Triumvirate – the three Lords who rule the Realms – figures of the Underworld

Vaesen – creatures associated with Underworld Realms such as demons, daevas, sorcerers, vampires, wraiths, and monster-like creatures

Vanir – creatures associated with Heaven Realms such as angels, faeries, witches, dragons, demigods and any heavenly-like being

-

I am no longer doing a tag list. After several attempts to get this tag list to work and Tumblr refusing to tag correct/process the post, I just took them off. I'm removing taglists for 2023 anyways because of how difficult tagging has become (incorrect usernames, Tumblr eating tags, copy and pasting not working).

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[dcangel]

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

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

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

8238 words (what thee actual fuck)

29– Thomas

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

The last few days were… something else. Like clockwork every month, another greenie arrived, but to you that just meant another person bugging the shit out of you until they got over it. What were you supposed to tell them? That you just felt like coming up into the maze and trapping yourself here for two years just because you were bored? Every single greenie, without fail, always pestered you like a small gnat swirling around your ear each day; “why are you the only girl? Why are you here? Is it hard being the only girl?” And of course the alarmingly obviously questions that crossed every new shank’s mind, but only few braved to ask.

You mostly managed to steer clear of the lewd obscenities, letting the few friends you made take care of it for you since it got to be an irritable subject for you very quickly. But, unfortunately, there were some that wanted to ask the girl herself. Some that didn’t even know your name, yet still approached you with a supercilious guise thinking that it would somehow win you over. Each time it made you wonder what they put in these new greenies before sending them up; they just kept getting worse and worse.

Majority of the gladers knew your name, but then again how could they not? Some knew it but just decided to call you whatever you wanted; as if you being a girl made you less human and more of an object. Those were the boys that could only dream of touching a girl, never mind even being able to hookup with one.

You were surprised by the amount of people that actually treated you as equal, even though it was the bare fucking minimum. Sometimes you found it ironic how Chuck—the youngest glader here—didn’t even think twice about your humanity status when half the so-called “men” in this place treated you like scut. The boy having stated many times that “you’re a human too, just like the rest of us. We each play our part and at the end of the day; work is work. It doesn’t matter how old you are or if you’re a guy or a girl.” You think one of the reasons you were such good friends with the boy was because he could easily relate to your struggles; him being the youngest glader and always treated like a baby who couldn’t comprehend the simplest things, and you being the only girl who’s treated like shit because apparently women can’t possibly be able to do the same things as men. You were both deeply misunderstood, and that served as a foundation for one of your closest relationships.

Of course the leader, Alby, had always said the same; you were to be treated as equal. He’d even brought up the fact that it was dispiriting that the matter was even a question at all. Some days were worse than others, only granting you the energy to will yourself out of the small hut Gally and few others helped you build, at the last possible second and skipping breakfast as you trudged your way over to the gardens, taking your place by Newt. From there, maybe you’d have an occasional conversation about the dirt that constantly flung into your eyes, automatically irritating both your sight and your mood, or maybe about how brutally the blazing sun treated your reddening shoulders and face.

But on those days—the bad ones—you kept silent, doing what you were told when you were told, taking part in the roles that made the glade work. Maybe you’d join the rest of the glade for supper, sitting with the very few people you called ‘friends’ but at the end of the table, hoping to avoid conversation that inevitably reeled you in. More often than not, bad days usually warranted you to take the meal to your hut after a quick ‘thanks’ to Frypan, then making the isolated trip to the comforting confines of your own space.

You tried keeping to yourself, afraid to get too close with anyone that wasn’t Chuck or Newt, but of course your name was brought up quite often. It never made sense, though; you rarely interacted with anyone, even the people you exchanged words with on occasion, not much was known about you. You even tried to avoid being seen as often as possible in hopes that your absence would somehow make the gladers forget about your existence.

Yet every month when a new greenie was sent up, terrified and questioning their entire existence, it also started a new uproar around your name. So with Thomas, it was no different. Well, almost no different.

After he showed up, he wasn’t subtle with his intentions like most were—always asking anyone he could about anything that might make you more 3-dimensional in his eyes. So when he saw you talking to Chuck and ruffling the young boy’s hair, he used their already-forming bond to his advantage.

“Hey, Chuck, who was that?” He pretended to be oblivious as if he hadn’t been staring at you all day every day, the way your hair was always tied back in a single low braid, how the small strands that were too short slipped from the crossed-pattern and framed your face, how your sun-kissed nose scrunched whenever some minor inconvenience passed your way or the way your head tilted ever-so-slightly as a way to show your confusion.

He was well aware that this most certainly happened with every new arrival; the pestering questions, the intrusive thoughts, yet he was infatuated with wanting to know absolutely everything he could.

“Who? Her?” Chuck followed the older boy’s gaze, quickly losing interest once he saw where it led.

Thomas’s gaze, however, didn’t falter. He couldn’t decide what part of you to focus on. Maybe the way you effortlessly carried buckets and buckets of whatever the hell was needed for gardening, but it looked heavy enough to make him stare in awe. He was shameless. “Yes her. Who is she?”

“A person.” Chuck answered, being frustratingly vague.

Thomas finally pulled his brown eyes from you, landing them on the smaller boy beside him. “What’s her name?”

“Why does it matter?” The young boy was all too familiar with the questions of each newbie, most greenies coming to Chuck for the same thing each month that became almost a routine to give out as little information as possible to protect his friend.

Thomas sighed, mentally rolling his eyes. “Because I wanna’ know.” He answered bluntly.

“You wouldn’t care what that guy’s name is,” Chuck pointed to a builder named Dan. “So why do you care what her name is?”

The greenie squinted his eyes, jaw clenched in slight irritation, the veins on his neck becoming more prominent than before. “Because I just want to know?”

“Y/N, her name is Y/N. There.” Chuck’s bitter tone was definitely a eye-opener, the boy usually sweet and happy to make new friends.

“Thanks.” Thomas managed to get a small thumbs up in return as Chuck walked further away, obviously done with their conversation.

. . .

The next few days left Thomas’s curiosity at a higher peak, even worse than when he first got here—before he knew about the girl. Luckily Chuck had told you each time the greenie asked another question, and you couldn’t express how grateful you were for the young boy since he never answered them.

However, despite Chuck’s anguished attempts at telling Thomas to leave you alone, the greenie pursued his interests in getting to know you more, although it was nearly inevitable that this would happen.

On this particular day, though, he couldn’t seem to find you. Much to his dismay, you were in the Deadheads, sitting by the small brook that always seemed to flow despite the enclosed glade. It was night, the sun long gone although the heat never seemed to leave. You liked the Deadheads, specifically the brook. It was quiet, nothing but the sounds of water trickling over small rocks and folding in on itself, and maybe the occasional leaf falling to the forest floor. The peaceful sounds were a drastic difference to the clanking of shovels on rocks that seemed to peeve each gardener, or tools hammering wood that echoed across the entire open glade.

It was rare, but sometimes you’d accidentally fall asleep in the woods due to the calming nature, serving for an aching back and sore neck that shot pain thorough your whole body when you craned it the wrong way. It would’ve been one of those nights, except the sounds of leaves crunching and twigs snapping under someone’s foot brought you back from your half-asleep state. You sat up against the tree, your legs crossing as you looked around. The only people who knew you came out here were sure to be asleep by now, Chuck always falling asleep the second the second he laid down on his hammock, and Newt knowing you didn’t like to be bothered out here.

You thought back to when Ben had been stung and was chasing Thomas through the Deadheads, and you thought the same was about to happen to you. Grabbing a small stick by your side— that would probably snap if any pressure were applied— you stood up and looked around the dark forest. The plush foliage provided little to no light, which left your eyes desperately trying to adjust to the darkness as quickly as possible.

You held the stick out in front of you and slowly backed up, occasionally spinning around to check behind you, the stick swinging through the air like it was wielded by a maniac.

The lack of light confused your senses, and somehow you didn’t you didn’t hear the cracking and snapping of leave and twigs, or feet the heat behind you getting closer and closer until your back slammed into something that scared you so bad you almost yelped as you whipped around to threaten whoever it was with the flimsy stick that almost snapped when you turned. You were greeted with an unfamiliar face, one that wasn’t just another in the sixty something faces in the glade that you had yet to learn the name of. It was a new one.

“Shit— sorry.” He muttered quickly, large, outstretched hands already on your shoulders to steady you.

You back up slightly, hoping his grip would fall off, and it did. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy automatically took to fiddling with his fingers, a nervous habit you guessed. “I, uh… I was looking for you, actually. Chuck told me you might be out here.”

You squinted your eyes slightly, not believing him since Chuck knew better than to tell a random greenie where you’d most likely be during your free time. “Did he?”

The greenie struggled to come up with an excuse, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the ground.

“Or did you just watch me come out here earlier with the plans of following me, hoping I’d still be here after you were done with your job?” You added with a raised brow, a clear annoyed tone evident in your voice.

“Wel— No that’s not— I mean… well, you’re probably used to the newbies bothering you—”

“Damn right I am. And I don’t expect you to be any different, so unless you have anything important to say, then I’m just gonna leave.” You got straight to the point, not caring to sugarcoat or be nice to him since you’d tried that before with other greenies, and it usually didn’t turn out well. You dropped your stick and started to turn away from him when you heard his footsteps following you again, his voice following soon after.

“Well, no, but I just wanted to talk to you. I don’t know you v—”

“So let’s keep it that way, yeah?” You said, sounding as if you were talking to a child.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, a small habit of his. “Could you just stop cutting me off?”

“Why should I?” You said, brown raised in annoyance as you crossed your arms, shifting your weight onto one leg.

“Because I fucking asked? It shouldn’t be that hard to be nice to someone.”

You scoffed, his attitude impressing you since it almost matched yours perfectly. You eyed him before opening your mouth to speak. “You’re right, it shouldn’t be. So why’re you making it so difficult then?” You asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, your head tilted coyly.

He let out a quick sigh, jaw clenching in irritation. “Because, all I did was try and talk to you and you’re being a bitch about it.”

Your head jerked back slightly, your eyebrows automatically raised with a taunting smile of disbelief creeping up. “You just can’t help it with the foul language can you?” You said with a laugh, one that seemed to get on his nerves even more. It was almost impressive how irritable he was. “Maybe you should try talking to directly instead of bugging my friends—especially Chuck— about me. Y’know, like a conversation or something? Maybe start off with a small introduction like your name or something a little less hostile.”

“Fine, I’m—”

“I know who you are.” It wasn’t intentional but you realized that you had cut him off again. But instead of apologizing, you almost wanted to see how pissed he could get before stomping off.

He was definitely contemplating it, almost losing interest since your attitude made him want to smash his head against a rock, but his pure stubbornness was what kept him standing there. “Again with the cutting me off! Is that all you ever do? ‘S that why you don’t have any friends.”

Being the only girl in a glade full of boys made this seem like nothing compared what else you’ve heard, so his little insults and slight temper tantrum did nothing. “Well you said you wanted to talk to me, and I’m assuming you wanted to get to know me more since all you ever do is bother Chuck.” You said with a shrug. “Come on, you can do better than that, I know you can.”

Something about your tone, the way it was taunting him, teasing him in a way that he couldn’t tell if he should hate you or want to slam you against a tree and— he shook his head, seemingly getting rid of whatever was going through his mind. “Why, you want me to insult you? Treat you like a piece of shit like everyone else does?”

You didn’t respond. Rather, you just stood there, not bothering to move as he subtly took a few slow steps toward you.

“Or maybe it’s something else?” He said, head tilting in a certain way that allowed the small streaks of moonlight peering through the spaces above that weren’t covered by trees to illuminate the beginnings of smug look on his freckled face.

Of course you knew what he looked like, he was a gardener the first few days so you had the displeasure of working near him, but something about him being up close and the way the shadowy brightness of the moon cast a perfect gleam allowed you to really notice his features. You had to admit, he wasn’t a bad looking guy; short brown hair, a perfect nose that could make anyone jealous, pale skin littered with moles and freckles that didn’t seem to be on just his face, golden-brown eyes that looked darker than in the daylight, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the tree coverage or some other reason…

“I bet it’s something else, isn’t it?” His voice was what snapped you from your thoughts, your eyes focusing back in on his darkening gaze.

“Huh?” You said, your eyes practically in slits at this point. You couldn’t tell if your question was actually a question, or if it was because you’d already forgotten what he asked before.

He took a step closer, yet he wasn’t actually that close. It was simply the darkness of the Deadheads and the way your other senses tried to account for your poor vision that made it seem like he was towering over you.

Or maybe he was.

“I said, are you just always a bitch like this, or do you do it because you like the way people respond. The way they get irritated and go off on you or treat you like shit all for you to complain about it afterwards.” You almost couldn’t believe his words. But what was less believable was the feeling that resonated in the pit of your stomach. One that had you thinking things you shouldn’t be.

“What? What the hell is wrong with you?” You spat out, trying to act offended.

His smirk grew, telling you that you reacted exactly how he expected. “You didn’t answer my question.” He took another step forward.

“I don’t have to.” You stepped back.

He noticed your slight step back, he also noticed the tree behind you—he same one you’d almost fallen asleep against earlier—getting closer each time. “I think it’s only fair that you do, so, go ahead. Answer it.”

Now, there were two ways you could’ve answered this. Which one did you choose? The one you knew would get the better reaction, of course. “Make me.”

One step later, you were already back up against the tree, seemingly nowhere to go (you could easily step to the side), and Thomas right in front of you, head tilted downwards to look at you because of the height difference. “I don’t think you really want me to. You’re just saying that.”

“Oh yeah? Try me.” You whispered lazily, a small gleam in your eyes as you looked up at him.

He brown ones bored into yours, an almost-mischievous glint behind them. He leaned down, his mouth inches from your ear, his hand against the tree on the other side of your head. “Maybe I will.”

You couldn’t help the way your knees felt weak, something about his voice; the raspiness embedded in his low, deep tone. “Maybe you should.” You breathed out, watching him pull back, his eyes flicking between your eyes and somewhere else.

His other hand slid around your waist, large palm being a source of heat as if the night air wasn’t already warm enough. It was torturous, the way his lips ghosted around your skin, every area he passed felt empty after the heat of his presence left, the way you felt his breath brush her face when he laughed at his own teasing actions.

His hand slid around to your lower back, pulling it forward in an arch as your upper back stayed against the tree. Thomas looked down at you, the very tip of his nose so close to yours that the heat radiating from him felt like he was actually touching you. You bit the inside of your cheek, never good with the whole ‘patience’ thing.

Thomas, on the other hand, could’ve dragged this out all night. But when he met your gaze, the look in your eye let the thought slip from his mind. It was when you whispered some words that didn’t quite stick in his brain against his lips, that’s what got to him. He bent down and connected your lips, the kiss wasn’t a slow, savoring-every-moment type of kiss. It was a hungry, sloppy, impatient kiss that made it seem like he was devouring you.

It was needy and heated, more teeth-clashing and tongue-tangling than anything. His lips were chapped and rough, but then again so we’re yours after two years in the glade.

His lips trailed down your cheek, then your jaw, then right under your jawline, nipping at the surprisingly soft skin. His lips followed your jawline until they were right under your ear, finding a sweet spot you didn’t even know you had.

You breathed out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as your head tilted backwards, hitting the bumpy bark of the tree. To your left was his outstretched arm that he used to hold himself up against a the tree, and to your right was his head, slightly buried in the crook of your neck as he peppered the spot with little nips as kisses. He freehand—the one that was on your lower back—slipped down to the curve of your ass, squeezing all around the plump skin.

“How’s this for getting to know you?” He breathed against your skin.

You bit your lip, just a little, but enough that his scrutinizing gaze caught it. “I think you, uh, you should get to know me just a little better, y’know?” You said, a small lump in the back of your throat that wouldn’t go down.

“Hmm, think I should, huh?” He teased.

“Mhm, yeah… y-you should.” You nodded, teeth gliding over your own bottom lip as you tugged his hair gently so he’d look up at you.

The heel of Thomas’s palm dug into your ass, prompting you to jump up a little. To jump right into his arms. Your thigh hitched up on his waist, his hand gliding from your ass to under your leg, finger tips reach the the inside of your thigh. Your other foot steady on the ground— well, would’ve been steady if you hadn’t stepped on a tree stump. Your footing faltered, twisting your ankle in the process and you pulled from the recently rekindled kiss to wince.

He chuckled and lifted up your other thigh, practically holding you up until you got the hint to wrap your legs around his waist. Your back was pressed into the tree, bare shoulders are partially-bare upper back collecting scratches and green moss smudges.

Thomas didn’t waste anymore time, the fingers of his free hand already sliding down your torso and half under the waistband of your jeans. He only stopped for a brief moment, looking up at you as you nodded back—maybe a little too eagerly.

He didn’t even bother to unbutton them or unzip them for the time being, his fingers twitching with the thought of touching you in mind. While he was just as impatient as you, he still managed to find the will in him to tease you. Two of his veiny fingers swipes over your panties, starting at the beginning of your wetness and dragging them all the way up to your cloth-covered clit. You couldn’t deny nor hide it anymore, you were soaked—rather, your panties were.

“Damn, this all for me? Guess you liked the idea of me proving you wrong, huh?” He taunted.

Your eyes bore into his like you wanted to say something snarky, but you literally could not lie. He felt it. He felt what he did to you. He knew the slight power he had over you—although you were sure he didn’t quite know just how much power he possessed.

Reluctantly, you tenaciously nodded up at him, just a very slight head movement that you hoped he’d miss, but of course he didn’t. You were grateful he didn’t respond, with words anyway, but you could see see the glint in his eye that made you want to kick him, slap him, anything you could to get your point across. But he made you weak in the knees, figuratively and literally since one of his hands was under your ass holding you up, your legs raveled around his waist and connected at his lower back.

At first, when you felt his hand leave your ass, you couldn’t decide whether to be disappointed by the loss of touch, or to expect your body to hit the ground. But it didn’t. He had you pinned against the tree, your legs already locked tightly around him, your arms slung around his neck.

His, now free, hand glides around to the front of your thigh, up your stomach (it would’ve gone under your shirt if he didn’t have other plans), over your tank top-covered breasts, fingers stopping momentarily to knead the dough-y flesh, and making their final stop around your throat just below your jaw—palm pressing against your airway loosely, pointer and thumb fingers settling below your ears on either side of your head.

The fingers caressing your sopping panties also became more active; drawing slow lines up and down.

“T-Thomas,” you stuttered, not because he hand was that tight, but simply because it was tight enough to warrant a gasp present in your words. “Don’t tease me.”

You were really in no position to be the one saying commands, but it was the sheer stubborn-confidence that impressed him enough to consider the choked out words. “As you wish.” He spoke, slipping two fingers past your panties, the material bunching to the side, and right into you without any warning. Well, to be fair he did give you a warning, just no time to process before you felt his long, slender fingers gliding against your walls.

“Fuck— Thomas.” You breathed out, your tone a little whiny. You were almost embarrassed at how easily you gave in, how easily you let him get you this way.

He gave your throat one last little squeeze and dropped his hand down to one of the straps on your tank top. He was considering sliding it under your shirt, but then he’d have to go through more trouble to get it off seeing as you were leaned against a tree. So, Thomas decided to take what he knew you’d give, and he tugged at the straps.

You knew your standards were low when consent made your heart swoon, feeling the nervous hot-and-cold sweats rack your body. But being the only girl in the glade, you were glad someone other than your friends was showing you respect…ish.

After seeing your nod, he slid the strap down and you pulled your arm back and through the thing fabric piece, the same was done on the other side. Thomas’s fingers were barely moving, too slow even for his teasing pace, but his brain had a little more focus on what he was trying to do with one hand.

A few seconds later, and you were gasping at the sudden coldness you felt against your pert nipples. It was an odd sensation, the glade was always hot yet when your bare chest was exposed, the air felt cool.

The chilled breeze caused the buds to instantly harden, making something of Thomas’s harden as well. “Shit, angel, no bra?”

You hadn’t worn a bra since today was one of those days— the ones with low energy, restless sleep barely giving you enough stamina to will yourself throughout the day. “No…” you admitted, almost shamefully.

Before you could even think, lips were wrapped around the sensitive buds, a tongue flat as it pressed over the top. You let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a small moan, finger tangling in his hair automatically.

Thomas simply couldn’t leave your other side untreated, so he rolled your other nipple between his fingers while fucking you with the other hand. Every sound you made, whether it be a sigh, a moan, a whimper, a small whine of his name, each and every one of them seemed to be egging him on more. Like small pleas and begs for more of his touch.

And whether you knew it or not, that exactly what they were; your body whining, aching for anything he’d give you, grateful for the plainest stroke of his digits in your wet cunt, or the effortless drag of his smooth tongue across your pebbled nipple.

Somewhere between small praises and straight-up degradation, you manages you end up without any clothes and Thomas’s pretty face between your legs as you stand there against the tree; teeth clenched, thighs trembling, fingers scratching at his scalp leaving a stinging sensation in their wake. It felt good— the burn of your jagged nails against his already sensitive scalp, the sun un-ironically taking part in making sure it would hurt him.

The tree bark dug into your bare back as you simultaneously pushed yourself up on your tip-toes, squirming at the sensation of his tongue on your clit becoming too much, yet tugging his face further between your wobbly thighs with the grip you had on his brown hair.

Thomas decided he liked you best when you were like this; a sweaty, moaning, whimpering, indecisive mess for him— despite only speaking his first words to you less than an hour ago.

And quite frankly, you couldn’t care less. The only thing spurring you on, giving you the shamelessness needed to give yourself up like this was the undying need to cum. He had be fucking edging you this whole damn time, yet you couldn’t complain. Not while he was pleasuring you at least. Your protests came after you didn’t—after the way he’d suck on and swirl his tongue around your swollen bud, getting you right there, only to pull away as you were about to topple over the edge.

It might not have been verbal, but maybe you’d give his hair a particularly harsh yank, or dig your nails into his raw scalp with as much strength as you could muster. Unbeknownst to you, Thomas enjoyed it. He loved the way you whined and squirmed, body begging for a release even if your mouth was too stubborn to communicate it. He loved the pain you inflicted on him, the pricking sensation hurting so bad—yet not enough—that it felt good.

“Did I get you to change your mind yet, Angel?” Thomas spoke against your cunt, lips glistening with you juices, eyes dark as he looked up at you with a captivating stare that you fell prisoner to time and time again.

You bit down on your lip brutally, the discomfort not even phasing you anymore. You were sure your lips would be bruised and possibly bloodied in the morning for more than one reason. “Thomas… please,” There it was. The first real plead that spilled from your lips. Not the desperate whines or frustrated grunts you’d given him earlier, but an actual word that put your need on full display.

And it sounded better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“What’s wrong, princess? Am I not good enough for you?” He cooed, tone mocking your desire so damn condescendingly that if it were anyone else you’d send their skull flying against the maze walls.

But you couldn’t resist, he had you under his spell, wrapped around his finger. And you knew it. You both knew it. “Fuck me, make me cum… just do something for fucks sake!” Your voice held a guise of irritation and rage, but just behind that was the exact whininess that he was looking for.

“I think I like the sound of you begging for me. It’s pretty.” He whispered, whether to himself or you, you couldn’t find it in you to give a fuck anymore.

Thomas stood up, large hands sliding up the sides of your bare body, soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. A whimper slipped from your swollen lips, the feeling of his hands setting your body ablaze, leaving goosebumps only the chilly day’s managed to give you in their wake. You felt like you were sweating buckets, yet the warmth radiating off his wide hands (or maybe you were just small) left the rest of your figure feeling frigid.

His lips wet lips met yours, hand meeting your throat as you gasped lightly at the taste of yourself on his tongue as he poked and prodded at your own. You didn’t even have to think about how easily you let him in, you blatantly followed his command no matter what form in came in without a second thought.

Fingers feeling needy, you reached for his belt and he slotted his knee between your thighs, pinning you against the tree for the umpteenth time tonight. However, you didn’t hear a protest or receive a firm look coded with a not-so-hidden message, so you proceeded with your actions, fingers fumbling with the flimsy metal piece until you hear the telltale clanking sound of his belt slithering through the denim loops and clashing against the dirt floor.

His jeans dropped next, nothing to hold them up or keep them in their place as you unzipped them. His shirt had been discarded earlier, just before he got to his knees in front of you, so it was one less article of clothing in your way.

But that didn’t matter, the only one you care about was still on him. Dainty fingers lightly brushed over his bulge, your eyes dropping for just a second to catch a glimpse of his clothed size before you had to tilt your head back up due to the hand holding your throat. It was dark, but your eyes were well adjusted by now; well enough to see the tent his erection formed as you unintentionally teased him.

Your hands were impatient, your whole being was impatient, but you could at least do something about the need to have your hands around him. After practically grabbing his hard-on through his boxers, palming it roughly for just a second, you didn’t even wait to get your hands inside his boxers. Immediately, you tugged your hand up his length, his impressively long length. He groaned, cock already throbbing, twitching at the thought of being buried inside you.

The noise almost took you by surprise, and you were almost proud of yourself for being the cause. You brought your left knee up his thigh, situating it comfortably in the groove of his hip, and pushed down the remaining fabric. His free hand assisted you and helped slide the other end down until he kicked away the item that he’d be searching for in the darkness later.

Digits finding his hardness again as you continued to make out, your thumb carelessly swiped over his slit as you handled his tip, collecting the bead of precum that had you wetter than the brook you were settled by during previous hours. He felt the heat of your fingers disappear, only to return moments later with arousal that couldn’t’ e been just his.

You coated his shaft with your sticky mixture, eliciting a deep groan from the back of Thomas’s throat. Regardless of you having the last few touches that made gave other pleasure, he still wanted to remind you who was really in control.

His fingers tightened around the column of your throat, his body pressing you into the tree even more, hard enough for you to feel each ridge of wood jabbing into your back. You felt his knee pushing up against your cunt, your slick automatically coating his thigh as you couldn’t help but grind yourself against him. He smirked—you didn’t see—, your actions appearing needy, so much so, that they were almost pathetic.

“It’s hot as fuck knowing I made you this wet, that I got you to the point where you don’t give a fuck about how pathetic you seem, the only thought in your brain is the desire for pleasure. For me to fuck you, huh?” His words were spat with hot breath waving against your cheek, it was hard not to give in and accept his words.

“Please, Tommy… need you inside me,” until the words came out, you weren’t aware of how shameless they’d be, of how much you sounded exactly like he described. “‘nd I know you do too.” you added shortly after in an attempt to recollect some of your dignity. Didn’t work. He saw right through you.

But what did work what the whine you put on his name, the one that few called him, but only you could have him contemplating between fucking you like a normal person, or fucking you for so long and hard that neither of you could walk straight or have any cum left to give. Obviously there was only one choice in his eyes, but you couldn’t see it. You could only see blown pupils, so wide that just a sliver of brown, lust-tainted color rimmed the pitch-black darkness.

You resumed the position you were in earlier; legs squeezed tight around his waist as if your life depended on it, ankles locked in the back, heels digging into his spine a few inches above his tailbone. Your arms wrapped around the nape of his neck, while his hand was settled at the base of yours.

Striving to be a tease, Thomas watched your reactions while he rubbed his tip up and down your wetness, starting from your hole, up to the top of your clit, then back down. Something about the moves, so calculated, so precious, so damn taunting that it almost seemed like he was mocking you, it was all becoming too much. He had been edging you all night—well, enough to to feel like it was all night—that you knew he was nearing the end of his limits as well.

Impatient by nature, Thomas merely gave your throat a warning squeeze before he slipped his tip inside. He may have been ruthless with his teasing, yes, but he wasn’t heartless. He waited, kept his hips still against his own will until you nodded or squeezed his hair each time you wanted him to push in just a smidge further. He praised and affirmed you with words you didn’t even process since the only thing your mind could focus on was the contrast of pleasure with a little bit of sting. You wanted nothing more for him to be fully sheathed inside you, fucking your stupid—and so did he—, but you decided it best for you to take it slow. At first.

Once his hips were flush with yours, hard cock filling you in ways you didn’t even know existed, you adjusted your legs around his waist, shifting until the discomfort went away mostly. You didn’t even nod or give and indignation before you bucked your hips against his, causing a sigh to fall from his pink, kiss-bitten lips, while a light moan fell from yours. He took that as his sign you were ready, and he slowly pulled his hips from yours with a semi-gentle test thrust first before he saw you were okay, then he picked up his pace in a matter of seconds.

“Fuck, angel, you’re so tight.” He groaned against your neck, hot breath symbolizing a warning before his lips were all over the soft skin.

You whimpered, your hands automatically lacing in his hair and tugging at the roots, nails occasionally scratching at his scalp. You don’t know how long your hand stayed like that before realizing you needed something better to grasp, to hold on and cling to like your fate was dependent on it.

One are tucked under his, the other following suit, and soon both hands were clawing down his back, the feeling prompting Thomas to pound away harder. Teeth against your neck let you know that you’d have to wear your hair down for the next few days, and possibly skip meals at the homestead to avoid being seen as well. Even so, you didn’t care right now. You were to wrapped up in the way his fucked into you, mercilessly pounding away at you pussy, the wet squelching sounds coming from where the two of you were connected absolutely sinful.

You knew the gladers had gone to sleep however long ago, but you also knew that a few had a hard time sleeping. Thank god Chuck had knocked out before you came out here.

The threat of getting caught is what caused you to bury your face in his shoulder, head leaning against his outstretched arm that was holding the tree for support. You nips and suck at the skin of his collarbone right where it connects to his shoulder, albeit much weaker and definitely less effort put in than him, but it gives you something to do, along with practically gouging your uneven nails down his sweaty back, to keep your mind off the seething moans that threaten to rip from your throat.

After awhile of hearing you go silent and feeling the pressure of both your lips and fingers on his skin increase, Thomas grows annoyed with your lack of sound. You feel his hand leave your throat, but you don’t exactly process it, your brain overwhelmed with too many things to worry about the loss of touch, but you do feel where it ends up. Your head is abruptly yanked back, yet somehow as gently as possible although is still leaves a pained sensation. Thomas’s fingers were in between the weaves of your—now very loose and incredibly messy—braid, forcing you to look at him as he fucks you. He seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“Don't muffle yourself. Let them hear your whiny voice, baby. Everyone should know how good I'm fucking you.” Without a barrier to block your noises, you let out a moan at his words alone. And then everything comes crashing down. You give up on trying to quiet yourself, only having enough left in you to chase that feeling that leaves you whining incoherent words that maybe he understands, digging and clawing at any available surface you can get you dainty little fingers on (which is most likely his back or shoulder), and letting yourself go completely—letting him take care of you.

And boy does he know how to take care of you. For someone you’ve never spoken a word to until tonight, he knows how to fuck you right. He knows how to have you in his arms, body practically limp and a deadweight which only impales you more on his dick. And when he hears that you’ve given in to more than just his one request by letting your jaw fall slack, any moans or whimpers just free to waltz out, he leans in close to whisper in your ear, voice deep and slightly raspy; “Good girl.”

He feels the way your fingernails grips his shoulders harder, possibly hard enough to draw blood, and the way your already-tight walls clench around him even more. Something in his mind clicks for him that doesn’t for you, probably because your too busy with the way he fills you up so damn well his tip kisses your cervix each time you come back down on him and he fucks back up.

“You like being called a good girl, huh? You like being told how good you feel around me, being praised for doing what I say like the good girl you are?” He knows what he’s doing at this point. But that was stop you from enjoying it nonetheless.

“F—yeah, fuck, I do.” You agree with what little sanity to have left, mustering a nod that almost spends every ounce of energy.

Your eyes have him in a trance; watery, pupils blown, looking up at him with the most innocent looking eyes he could ever think of. Except he knew you weren’t innocent.

“I bet no one else fucks you like this, huh, angel? No one else gives you princess treatment because they’re too busy trying to find a way to get in your panties to even think about treating you right. But a part of you likes it, don’t you?” You merely whined, words failing you as he smirked and kept going. “You like the fact that half the guys here probably jerk off to the thought of you when they’re alone, think of you as some little slut that everyone gets a turn with in their minds. The glade’s own whore, hmm?”

“F-Fuck, Thomas,” you whimper, the feeling his words give you turning into physical pleasure, not just for yourself, but for Thomas as well when he feels your warm walls squeezing around his shaft.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it; just whoring out and fucking every guy in this place? But your so damn innocent—too damn innocent, it’s why half the guys here can’t seem to get their mind off you.” He grunts between thrusts, as if his hips slamming into yours punctuates each word. “Don’t worry, after tonight I think enough people around here will have learned who got to fuck you. I’ll treat you right, princess.”

Both hands clenched at whatever they can, and Thomas feels the crescent-shaped nail marks already imbedding themselves in his shoulder and nose of his neck.

You were getting undeniably closer, and you were afraid that he might edge you again. Hell, you were afraid that you let him have that much power over you. In spite of your efforts, your own voice adding to the ringing in your ears as you bucked your hips downwards— if even possible with the force he had you pressed against the tree with. “Don’t stop… please, please don’t stop, Tommy.” You begged, pathetically desperate for him to finally let you release.

“Only if you keep making those pretty little sounds, angel.” And you did; effortlessly obeying his commands, when in reality it was inevitable that your sounds escaped at some point. You just didn’t hold back at all. At least you didn’t talk to very many people, otherwise they would’ve been suspicious of your barely-there voice if the hadn’t already heard you screaming the night before.

His thrusts became irregular, and at first you thought he was going to tell you that you didn’t do well enough for him, seize yet another orgasm from you like he had been doing all night. What you didn’t realize was that he was slowing down to edge himself, not wanting to cum to early or before you did.

Thomas decided you wouldn’t mind a few scratches on your back, maybe a few splinters, ‘cause it sure as hell looked like you wouldn’t give a damn right now, so he took his supporting hand off the tree and encased it around your throat, admiring the way his hand seemed to swallow you whole. His free hand fled to your clit, rubbing circles against the sensitive bud as you cried out his name. It was mindless, you hadn’t even realized it. That’s what made it so fucking hot.

Time and time again, you continued to impress him with how easily you could be controlled, completely fucked out to the point you only knew his name and the word ‘please’. “Atta girl. That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking you like this.” You whimpered his name again, the word simply rolling off your tongue without a thought. He wasn’t even sure if you said it because you followed orders so well, or if it was really the only thing you could say.

“T-Thomas, shit—fuck, I’m g—” your sentence was left unfinished since you couldn’t breathe, your lungs on fire just like the rest of your skin. It could’ve been from the way Thomas’s hand was unconsciously restricting your airway a little too much, though, once he noticed he eased up. Either way, he got your message loud and clear. And he could feel his own release brewing in the pit of his stomach.

“Please… please don’t stop this time. I-I can’t take it anymore… need to cum.” You whined between shallow breaths before he could even speak.

His pace and force picked up to almost inhuman speeds, basically fucking you into the tree behind you. “I won’t, I promise.”

As if the words didn’t register, mindless pleas were pouring from you, “I have to—’m so close, Tommy, please.”

“I know, baby, I know. Me too, alright? So your gonna be a good girl and cum for me, yeah?” It wasn’t until his thumb pressed against the bundle of nerves he was previously circling, did his words finally sink in.

Along with his gentle demand came your orgasm that you didn’t know had been so close the whole time. Your walls enveloped him so tight he was sure his dick would slip out, but it didn’t. It stayed inside your warm, velvety wetness, twitching but thrusting sloppily throughout your high as his neared.

You were seeing stars, and you were pretty sure they weren’t the ones in the night sky above you. Your nails dug so harshly into his chest and back that your fingers aches, and you could only imagine the number you’d done on him. The feeling was euphoric, sure you’d never come down from the drunken-high feeling. Your thighs shook, muscles spasming as your nerves felt like they were frying at the slight overstimulation he was giving you.

Feeling you cum around him, his cock twitched inside you, soon giving into the demands of your velvety warmth and wet squelching sounds. “Fuck, shit—such a good girl, angel… such a good fucking girl for me.” He moaned out, his voice the softest it’d been yet, but still somehow possessing the same roughness as before.

You felt a hot-warmth gush inside you, your face already buried deep in his shoulder again as you physically could not keep your head up. “Just for you.” You whimpered, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled to the brim, his hand coming off your throat to slide around the back of your neck in a somewhat-comforting hold. The feeling of being taken care of.

[8aji]

do you think he’ll think i’m really pretty? // s.s.

pairing: shinichiro sano x baji!reader, ft. little brother baji

wc: 1.6k

synopsis: harmless threats will get to you eventually, but you’ll tolerate it as long as he helps you pick out between silver and gold, and a pair of heels.

tags/cw: fluff, gendered terms used on reader (nee-chan), baji is reader's little brother, cursing, baji/reader dynamic centric, shin appears at the end, mentions of knives but in reference to a meme, reader does her makeup and wears earrings, heels aren't explicitly mentioned i just put it in the synopsis, typos, grammarly lied— let me know if i missed anything!

a/n: im so tired idk what to say LMFAO but i hope you enjoy as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 i adore baji so much and he deserves the world. thank u @thelastoreo for helping me figure out my crisis and @guav your flaco shinichiro MWAH!

m.list 𖥻 tags 𖥻 byi/dni

Tunes were tuning, and you were laser-focused on the mirror, ignoring the indescribable mess sitting on the counter. Keisuke sat on the green step stool he used to brush his teeth, cheek smushed against his fist with a bored expression looming on his features. He couldn't help but roll his eyes every time you groaned in discontent, rubbing with your fingertips at the smudged makeup.

“I can’t believe Shinichiro-nii asked you out,”

You whispered a shut up under your breath, rolled your eyes at him and continued flicking the blending brush against your skin. Despite putting together a nice outfit, a dashing makeup look and picking out a couple of accessories, your inherent indecisiveness when it came to impressing Shinichiro Sano was too much for you to handle on your own. 

“He’s too good for you anyway,” He huffed, pouting.

Biting your lip to hide the cheesy smile threatening to grace your features, you ignored his taunt and grabbed both pairs of hoops sitting in front of you. One gold and one silver, you let them dangle on your fingers enjoying the coolness of them both for a bit, before holding them up in front of him.

“He’s so cool and you’re…you— I like the gold ones better.”

The urge to smack the back of his head, overpowering, but you held back. Instead, you agreed with his choice, following him blindly through your wishy-washy decision-making tendencies. 

“You know he rides a motorcycle, right?— I like the red one the most—you can’t even get your driver’s licence,”

You went to pick the colour he was referring—or the one you thought he was referring—to, humming along the song under your breath until you felt his hand smack yours. It didn’t hurt, per se, but it did make you flinch in surprise, almost gasping in disbelief. He stood up, hands on his hips, annoyed, a disproving look in his eyes.

“I meant the other red, see? You’re dumb.”

How silly of you, almost as if the lipsticks you had shoved under his nose for him to pick were all varying shades of the same colour, red.

“I’m dumb? You can’t even write your own name, stupid.”

“You didn't— Mom! Nee-chan called me stupid!”

“Shut the fuck— I didn’t! Keisuke’s lying!” 

“I’m not! You said— oh, pick that sparkly one.”

All it really took to calm him down was to show him a couple of highlighter options for him to choose from, little fangs poking his bottom lip as he grinned. He’d never admit to it out loud, but even if you didn’t force him to work as moral support, he’d willingly keep you company while you got your makeup done, entranced with the way different products sparkled under the bathroom lights, entranced with the way you seemed to be using your face as a canvas.

He sat back down, legs dangling back and forth. Cute, anyone would think, but the smugness behind those evil-manipulative-child-sized eyes made your blood boil, frowning because you knew, he knew you needed him on your good side, play nice with him for reasons like a) needing his help, and b) if you wanted your mom to let you hang out with the love of your life. And, you knew, he knew, you knew that; he’d be stupid not to exploit this opportunity.

“Where are you guys going anyway?”

“None of your business.”

“Remember that time you broke the tv?” He asked, eyes sparkling as if he didn’t know what he was doing. “you had to use my piggy bank to buy a new one before mom got home, do you think she noticed the colour change?"

“We’re going to a party.” Muttering the answer between gritted teeth, your response made him sparkle with joy. He looked uncannily similar to the smug cat from that one meme.

“What kind of party?”

“Why do you care?”

“I think the pan you threw at me once still has a dent on it.”

Vibing to the music coming out of your phone’s speakers was getting progressively harder, you could almost feel a vein pop out on your temple, you could only take so much teasing without being able to ‘jab back’. Even if you asked him how the hell he got so annoying, he’d probably Uno-reverse-card you, tell you he learned it all from you.

“When are you leaving anyway? I don’t wanna see your ugly face anymore—”

“Keisuke,” you cut him off, making eye contact with him through the mirror; he shuddered. You could handle being threatened with a death sentence, AKA him snitching to your mom, but would not tolerate this little shit (endearingly, and only slightly threatening) calling you ugly. “Rephrase that.”

“Sorry,” he disliked getting scolded, but even he had to admit he might’ve gone just a little too far; breaking the unspoken rule of never mocking each other’s appearances. “I meant, when is Shinichiro-nii getting here? I wanna see him.” 

Right after mentioning your beloved his best friend’s brother, the roaring sound of a motorcycle engine broke through the music, catching the both of you off-guard. It was only when it shut down that you looked at each other, making eye contact in a state of despair.

“Grab me a pair of heels while I finish here.”

This time he didn’t try to playfully exploit his role as an executive assistant, instead going straight to your closet and picking a pair of shoes that went the best—or at least good according to a child’s standards—with the outfit you chose, helping you fasten the straps on your ankles as you finished spritzing some setting spray.

He ran out the door, screaming SHIN-NII!!!!!! as if he hadn't seen the older boy in forever, jumping onto his arms and making him lose his balance as the both of them laughed. 

“I missed you!” He exclaimed, beaming as Shinichiro ruffled his hair after putting him down. “Can I please sit on your bike?”

Their laughter could be heard from inside the house, and after you let your mom know you were heading out, you were met with the wholesome scene of Keisuke sitting in front of Shin, as the older tried teaching him the correct way to hold onto the hand clutch, how to switch on and off the light, and so on. 

You didn't dare intrude on the moment, though announcing your presence wasn't necessary because as soon as you entered your brother’s peripheral field of vision, he called out to you.

“Nee-chan! Look! Shin-nii is teaching me how to ride a bike!”

The sudden intrusion made his companion stumble, trying to stabilise the bike as Keisuke tried to stand on the seat. Still, even after regaining his balance, he fumbled, hard, as soon as he took a moment to take in the sight of you, almost missing the bike when he tried leaning against it, in a very nonchalant, very not Shinichiro, way.

“Hey,” he prays to anything out there that you didn't notice the subtle voice crack that accompanied his words; news flash, you did. “You look really neat, nice, I meant nice.”

“Just nice?” you teased, not letting the opportunity of taking the upper hand go; he was cute while flustered.

“I– no, I meant that I think you’re really pretty.”

“Thanks.” You beamed, soaking in the praise like a cat would roll around in the sun, though trying to keep your cool regardless. After all, You were as weak for him as Shinichiro was for you.

But good things don’t last, because of course he saw the opportunity to tease you back, even if his teasing sucked and left him a bigger flustered mess.

“So you agree?” another one of your boys looked like the smug cat with a knife against his throat. “You think you’re really pretty?”

“I’m never showing you the shit I like again.” 

Ah, Shinichiro Sano, to get lost in his eyes was not only the ultimate fantasy but a very plausible reality, that was until Keisuke tugged on your hand, shaking the jar he had taken from the kitchen in what seemed like milliseconds.

“Swear jar,” he prodded. You rolled your eyes, once again basking in Shin’s chuckle as you searched in your purse for some loose change. “You said ‘shit’.”

The clatter of coins filled in the comfortable silence, it seemed to satisfy your brother enough because without any other words he took the jar back inside.

“Shall we go now?” you cocked your head lightly, holding back the urge—how many urges did you need to hold back today, huh?—to kiss him right there and then. “‘Don’t wanna be later than we already are.”

"Sure, but, uh, movie references aside," he joked, running his hand through his dark locks. He grabbed the spare helmet hanging from the handle of his bike and fastened the straps against your neck, the slight touch making your heart flutter. "I do think you look really pretty, all the ti—”

“Wait!”

Neverendless energy giving him what seemed like a boost of speed, Keisuke made his way back to you, side-eyeing Shinichiro—in the oddest fashion possible because this man was something akin to an idol to your little brother—and signaled for you to lower your head to his height, wanting to whisper something in your ear.

“I’m sorry for calling you ugly,” he mumbled, though his whispering voice was still something that needed some tweaks here and there because Shin could hear the message loud and clear. “I think you’re always pretty.”

And after a quick hug, careful enough for you not to tumble over, and an enthusiastic wave, he was gone.

That’s what Keisuke was for, moral support.

“Okay so, this shirt,” he said, raising the hanger a little higher to emphasise his options. “Or this shirt.”

“They’re both white shirts.” Manjiro deadpanned, speaking despite the lollipop poking at his cheek.

Shinichiro rolled his eyes, a groan threatening to leave his throat in discontent. He would’ve asked Emma for help, she’d give him pretty decent advice, but she was hanging out with some friends from school. So Manjiro it was, and he could use all the advice he could get regardless of what, or who, the source of information was; he too, could be indecisive when it came to you. 

“They’re not,” He retaliated, pointing at one of the shirt’s sleeves with his eyes. “This one is longer than the other.”

Manjiro sighed, laying completely flat on his brother’s bed as if he had given up on helping the unhelpable. 

“I don’t understand why y/n nee-chan said yes to you,” already having the habit of teasing the shit out of his big brother, the jabs that left his lips came out way too flawlessly. But because Manjiro, despite being a little shit, knew his brother was struggling so he decided to go a little softer on him. 

“Nee-chan is so cool and,” yeah, going a little softer on Shin would work, he wasn’t heartless after all. “You suck.”

Yeah, Shin should've just begged Emma to stay.

© 2022 SHINACHIRO ; Do not repost my work. Do not recommend my work outside of tumblr. Do not translate my work.

[mxmspeedster]

sfw alphabet with oscar piastri

mentions of male reader and toxic relationships but nothing graphic. and swearing, but your here so thats on you. fair warning, i'm mildly dyslectic but i had grammarly to help me this time so i should be better than the last one lmao.

auto correct saved my life on this one, i wrote in two hours listening to viva la vida but lofi on repeat.

a- affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

hugs !! my god does this boy love to hug you. his driver room? hugs. middle of a flight? he will hug you. cooking? back hugs. he will do anything for a hug. he also loves to give you small, everyday things that remind him of you. he sees a flower shop with your favorites in the window, he’ll by them for you. soft toy of your favorite animal? he’ll get one, put a little bow on it and gift it to you. he would so give you a little ring with ‘81’ on the inside, if you played a sport/raced he would have a matching one with your number in it. and if you didn’t, he would put your initials. vv sweet baby.

b- best friend (what would they be like as a best friend? how would the friendship start?)

he would drag you to his house to watch every single race when you were kids. you’d be forced to sit next to each other in the seating plan and became fast friends, especially if you’re good at math, (why do you think i have so many friends?) he would miss a lot for racing so you’d take extra notes for him so he would buy you a little trinket at every race, and you’d put them all on a shelf. (your parents had to take you to IKEA and get new shelves, just for the trinkets.)

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

little spoon. even better if you’re taller than him. if you disagree, you can talk to the rock wall as i climb it. (i’m a rock climber btw, this isn’t meant to be a joke)

d- domestic (do they want to settle down? how are they at cooking and cleaning?)

he cooks and bakes a lot. (in Australia, you have a class (i had to take if for two years but that varies) on cooking, he would thrive there). he would do all the cooking because he loves it so much, so you would always clean up to share the work load. he would so want to by a little cozy house, maybe on a hobby farm, and adopt kids with you. you would take in sibling sets so they wouldn’t get separated in the system. i can see him doing that later in his career (after he wins a WDC maybe), and he would be a stay at home (working form home) dad for your little family (of like 10 kids across four adoptions and a surrogacy) while you worked full time.

e- ending (if they break up with their partner, how do they do it?)

he would let them down gently. he wouldn’t break up with someone for no reason, so if it was out of his control, he would by flowers and do it somewhere privet but with no real sentimental value to anyone. he’d cry doing it too. but like i said, unless they cheated of him, bby wouldn’t break up with anyone, ever. it probably meant he had a toxic high school relationship that one of his sisters had to get him out of because he didn’t want to make anyone upset :(

f- fiance(e) (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they be to get married?)

if he won an aus gp he would so take you out to dinner at his favorite place (he looks like the kinda guy to take you grilld at any and every opportunity) and propose to you at a park with ice cream afterwards. i think he would have no problem settling down. it’d give him some peace of mind that he always had someone in his corner to go home to after a bad race or stressful day.

g- gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he would treat you like glass, even if you could kill him with your bare hands, he’d still be so so so gentle with you. he’d always ask you how you’re feeling, and would tilt his head while listen to you talk about your emotions. the king of communication. 100%.

h- hugs (do they like hugs? what are their hugs like?)

he loves hugs. i will not be elaborating. (especially if you lay on top of him, he loves it, it makes him feel so safe.)

i- i love you (how fast do they say the l-word?)

depends on how long he’s known you. if you met as kids, he’d probably say it to you before you got together (in a platonic way.) but otherwise he’d wait until you said it to him.

j- jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

he gets jelous so easlity, but he wouldn’t show it. if someone was flirting with you, he’d go all quite and moody as he holds your hand tighter or hugs your waist. he won’t outwardly do anything to anyone because he trusts you so much, he knows you would never do anything.

k- kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

he loves to kiss you. he would kiss your cheek then blush and run away. if you had tattoos, he would so kiss them. if you kissed him, anywhere, he would melt into a pile of goo and mark would have to stop him spacing out every five minutes for the rest of the day.

l- little ones (how are they around children?)

he loves children. did you see him with the grid kids at the aus gp? he didn’t look like he stepped on lego for once. if you had to baby sit a small child (between 4yo and 10yo) he is so coming with you. he’d probably enjoy the toys/shows you give to the kid than the actual kid.

m- morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

if you had a whole day off, you would just never leave the bed. he’s be so cuddly and soft. if you try moving before 10 am he would complain that it’s too cold without you. then you’d make breakfast and eat on the balcony/porch together. until lando or logan comes over unannounced and insist that you all play a video game.

n- night (how are nights spent with them?)

so so so soft. he goes to bed a 7 pm on the dot every day. the golden light from the setting sun would be so cute. he’d look like a teddy bear. he’d also insist that he childhood toy would sleep with you guys.

o- open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything at one or wait a white to reveal things slowly? )

he’d be so mysterious and would suddenly drop lore like he’s a dad or something. you wouldn’t know anything for months, then you suddenly know his favorite flower is a daisy and he once had to go the hospital because he ate a dandelion. then you have to wait months for any new information.

p- patience (how easily angered are they?)

he is a saint. unless your lando, logan or fredrik, then he is perpetually annoyed at you. if you had a disability (both visible or invisible) he’d be so so patient with you if you were slower to get somewhere/do something/understand him. and if you spoke a different language, he’d learn it in secret so you could talk. he’d probably be more comfortable talking in your native language than in english, he gives me the vibes of “i don’t like speaking English to people i’m close to, it doesn’t feel special enough for them.”

q- quizzes (how much would they remember about you? do they remember every detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

he would remember every little detail you ever tell him ever. your favorite pen brand you mentioned as you walked though officeworks or your Favorite teacher from when you were 5. he will remember everything. until you ask him, then he forgets his own name.

r- remember (what is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

when you brought him flowers for the first time when he was still in f3. you brought them for him when you went on your first in person date since covid started and he took them home and pressed them so he could put them in a frame and keep them forever. he’d set the photo of you two from that date as his wallpaper and would always show it to people like “look at my man :D”

s- security (how protective are they? how would they protect you?)

he would wrap himself around you entirely when he wants to protect you but he also cried when he almost killed a spider so i don’t think he’d be capable of anything else.

t- try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts everyday tasks?)

he puts so much effort it making things special for you were ever he can but it’s all or nothing. it’s either pizza on the living room floor with a shitty film, or the most expensive wine he could find with a home cooked, three course meal on a balcony in Paris. he’d always make is special for you, but it depends on his mood and what he can do.

u- ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he’d bite your fingers if you put them too close to his mouth. he’d get the overwhelming sense of love and would bite your fingers to keep your hands on him or at least close to him because he would cry otherwise. this wouldn’t be a problem for you if it weren't for the fact he has sharp teeth and a strong jaw.

v- vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

he does not care. he does not give two fucks about how he looks. until it’s a fancy date, then he cares. he’d learn how to do eyeliner so he’d look extra good for you. (him in eyeliner, i’d pay money to see that)

w- whole (would they feel incomplete without you?)

absolutely. he would cry every night he couldn’t be with you or call/talk to/see you. he would take your clothes so he could feel even just a little but closer to you.

x- xtra (a random headcanon for them)

he’d call you ducky. no reason for it. he just called you that one day and never stopped.

y- yuck (what are somethings they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

he wouldn’t want someone who would always one up him or treat him like a baby. he also wouldn’t want someone who always did all the cooking and cleaning while he just did nothing. he’d probably cry if the work load wasn’t split evenly.

z- zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs)

he’d take all the blankets. even in an aussie summer, he insists on sleeping with three blankets and you’ll always wake up at 3am with no blankets and again at 6am with him (and all the blankets) on top of you.

[literaticat]

What is your thoughts on AI as a tool for writers? Say, a writer can’t get a sentence quite right so they enter it into AI to get some ideas for a better more concise sentence. Is that considered wrong? I don’t use any AI for my writing, but I was playing around with it this weekend and wondered where that fine line is. Grammarly is an example of this. If my dream is to be published is it better to steer clear of all of it completely?

Grammarly, to my understanding, is kinda like... spellcheck, or autocorrect, no? I think those tools are OK, as long as you, the human person, understands WHY it is telling you XYZ, and actively engages with whether or not to take its advice.

I just ran that through Grammarly, and it came up with:

Grammarly, to To my understanding, Grammarly is kinda like… spellcheck, or autocorrect, no right? I think Those tools are OK, as long as you, the human person, understand WHY it is telling you XYZ, and actively engage with whether or not to take its advice.

This edit is technically probably more grammatically correct or "better", but I'd leave the first sentence because it sounds more me-ish -- and I'd probably leave "I think" because this is just my opinion -- but I probably WOULD make "understand" and "engage" singular, since I said "you" even though I meant it as "one" (the collective "you") -- because "you understand and engage" makes more sense -- but I'd take out "the human person" and the ellipses and one of the commas even though it didn't tell me to, because those didn't help. So I'd end up with:

Grammarly, to my understanding, is kinda like spellcheck or autocorrect, no? I think those tools are OK, as long as you understand WHY it is telling you XYZ, and actively engage with whether or not to take its advice.

That is better. Thanks, Grammarly! I took some of your advice, but didn't take the rest, and added some other changes myself. Fair enough! It's one tool, it can be helpful if used judiciously, it's not better than my brain.

TL;DR: It would be a TERRIBLE idea to use AI to come up with creative ideas, or do research, or actually write your work for you. IMO, it's not terrible to use spellcheck or Grammarly or similar tools to make sure that you are not making silly errors or creating comma havoc, etc, as long as you are not letting it override your own common sense and style.

(And Hey, Autocorrect: I NEVER mean "DUCK"!)

[honestlywtfisgoingon]

Let Me Show You —

Alex Law (Shallow Grave)

alex law x reader

description: sure, it was years before you knew either of them, but learning that your friend used to sleep with your boyfriend isn’t easy.

warnings: language, smut, fluff, david being a bitch, i didn’t rly edit i just ran my shit through grammarly and called it a day

a/n: shallow grave is one of my top ten fav movies and ewan is my top one fav human + there’s a serious drought in the alex law fic department so here you go *hands you this bullshit* also this ended up being sorta long for me, idk how that happened

words: 5,301

These past couple of days, you all groaned when you heard the jingle of keys that meant David was about to walk through the door. He had been coming home from work extremely tense and none of you really knew why. It could’ve been something very serious and personal, or something absolutely ridiculous. Either way, you all had to deal with it. While he had been pissy towards Juliet too, it was mostly Alex who got the brunt of his mood. You hated it, glaring at David anytime he sent a derogatory remark in Alex’s direction. David didn’t feel comfortable enough to go after you, therefore it was an effective enough defense, but it never seemed to shut him the fuck up for more than 15 minutes. Alex told you just to leave it as he was afraid that eventually David would treat you the same way. He could handle him, but God forbid anyone go after his girlfriend.

You all had hoped that the dark cloud that was David was lightening up as tonight’s dinner had been void of any conflict so far. There had been simple conversations exchanged and little jokes here and there, then David decided he had had enough. Maybe it was the non-existent look between Juliet and Alex that David had imagined or maybe she had laughed a little too hard at one of his jokes. He had always been attracted to her (no offense to Juliet but it’s not like he had many other options) and harbored subconscious jealousy over her and Alex’s past fling.

“Oh David, have a bit of fun! Lighten up,” Juliet encouraged him as he began to frown. All he did was come to the decision that this was the perfect time to bring all that up. Lovely.

“You’re having fun with Alex I think. I remember you used to have a lot of fun with Alex actually,” it wasn’t David’s actual words that got under Alex’s skin, it was the fact that he had said them in front of you, and for that purpose only.

Alex stood up from the dinner table abruptly. His hands were flexing, knuckles flashing red and white as he tried to control himself.

“Now you fucking—”

“What?” you cut him off with a small word. Alex looked at you, concern and a swell of other emotions in his eyes; worry, anger, panic—love. Of course, you knew what David was implying, but somehow it wasn’t clicking. These were people you knew, and this was something those people would never do. It just didn’t fit.

“David,” Juliet scolded him harshly, but her expression softened completely once she had turned to you. She hesitated, opening her mouth and then closing it quickly, clueless as to how to approach the subject. She took a deep breath in before saying, “It was a long time ago y/n. I’d forgotten all about it, it didn’t mean anything,”

so it did happen

“You didn’t want to tell me this?” you turned to Alex. your tone wasn’t angry, sad, or disappointed even, and that scared him. You were always hard to read, but over the course of your relationship, he had worked to understand you, to be there for you. At this moment it suddenly seemed as though everything he had learned was useless. All your little expressions, the inflections in your voice, anything that usually told him how to proceed, were gone. You had shut him out and purposely taken those with you.

“Juliet’s right, I’d forgotten about it—“

“That’s alright,” You said. You felt as though you had shut yourself out if that was even possible. It was as though your brain just gave out. You didn’t know how to feel about suddenly being told one of your friends had slept with your boyfriend. Before you knew either of them of course, but it was still there. You weren’t even jealous. You just wanted to retreat within yourself, not trusting what you knew anymore.

“y/n I need you to understand—“ he sat down so that he was eyeline with you.

“I do,” you gave a small smile that never reached your slightly melancholy eyes. It had begun to hit you, and he saw it. Alex knew that all he could try was to take his time when speaking to you.

“y/n please—“

“I do,” you said firmly. He hated this, and he hated David for it. The hand that he had laying on the table was now clenched just as his jaw was. If his priority wasn’t you right now he would be punching David into the floor.

You ate a couple more bites of your food, each spoonful carrying barely anything up to your mouth, and then announced that you were tired. The drag of your chair across the floor was uncomfortably loud amidst the painful silence. As you turned, Alex placed a gentle hand on your arm, trying to make you stay. He kept it there until he could no longer reach it as you continued to walk further away from the dinner table.

Alex couldn’t contain himself as soon as he heard the click of his door being shut by you, raising his voice as he said, “David you fucking prick. Saying shit like that in front of y/n. Making it sound like…like… Do what you like, but you shouldn’t have made her feel like that,” While he was fuming, Juliet just sat there, head in her hands, the only sound coming from her was a low groan. Alex was mildly disappointed that she was just letting David get away with crossing a line, but then again Juliet only ever did anything for herself, and going against David wasn’t in her best interest.

“It’s not my fault you never told her” David shrugged nonchalantly, but there was an all too satisfied look in his eye. “You know, keeping secrets doesn’t make for a healthy rel—“

“Shut the fuck up,” Alex said aggressively before stalking off to his room. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath before opening the door, not wanting to scare you by coming in so heated. He closed the door behind him quietly when he saw you on his bed, or rather just your face. You had buried yourself under the covers of his bed, only your head poking out. In any other circumstance, he would’ve thought it was adorable.

You were staring at the ceiling, eyes focused on nothing. You had been overthinking for the past couple of minutes, wondering if Alex had lied to you about other things if he lied to you because he had loved Juliet, or if he secretly enjoyed sex with her more. Every happy moment with Alex played over and over in your head as you tried to figure out whether or not they were tainted secrets the whole time. The more time you spent thinking about it, the more insecure you became about your relationship. If left to yourself, you would’ve formed a whole map in your head with red threads pinned all over it, connecting things that you would’ve thought ridiculous yesterday. That was just how you worked, but Alex wasn’t going to let your anxieties get the best of you.

The mattress let out a soft squeak as he crawled onto the bed with you, laying on his side with his head propped up so that he could look at you. He looked at you while you chose to continue staring up at the empty air above you.

You didn’t know if you were ready to hear a speech, but you were always going to have to eventually.

“It was so long ago. It was empty. I was empty. When I met you, you changed that…” he started. Your silence gripped his heart and began to choke it, but he couldn’t do anything besides continue. He needed you to hear him, if only for you to hate him, but he could manage a whole lot better if he was sure you knew that he would never purposely hurt you. “I’d never fallen in love with anyone before you, and I’ll love only you… You’re stuck with me you see. I’m your little leech,” he said with a little nudge to your shoulder. You couldn’t help but smile at another one of his stupid comments. You always did, even when you were angry, although it was against your will most of the time. It made you lose your point, which had the unfortunate effect of making you even angrier. This time though, it helped to loosen some of the tension in your muscles that you didn’t realize you were holding. His brows loosened when he saw your expression, hoping that it meant you were loosening up. All too soon, your smile left.

“I know Alex. I know you love me,” you said it as a fact, something you could just repeat, but not necessarily feel. In your mind, you knew he did, but what happened at dinner had made your heart doubt against your will.

“Except you don’t,” he whispered, “Because I don’t show you enough. What was in the past was physical, but with you, oh darling I’d give you my soul. If you asked me to give up anything, honestly Juliet even, I doubt she’s a human anyway. She’s one of those classic empty shell types,” You let out an actual laugh this time. It was small, but the sound filled his chest. “I’d give it all up because all I need is you. you’re my world. Nothing in the past present or future could change that”

“Alex, I wouldn’t ask that of you. It’s not about her it’s about you not telling me,” you meant it. He could’ve slept with David for all you cared, all you wanted was a reason, and even then, you didn’t know if you’d believe it. “You can’t hide things like that,”

“If David hadn’t done what he did, I would have told you openly if it ever came up,” he jerked his head in the direction of the door, referencing the event that had just happened outside. He curled his lip a little at the thought of the man.

“I don’t know if I can trust that, if I can trust when you say that I mean something to you,” you were extremely wary at the moment. You knew he could be very convincing, using all the right language to charm, he was a writer after all. At the end of the day, all it was was bullshit, and you weren’t gonna take it.

“You mean more to me than I can express, and I’d give anything to have those words,” It was as though he heard your thoughts this time, not even daring to sweet talk you. He then dropped his voice to a gentle whisper. “But I want to try and show you.”

“How?” you couldn’t deny, you were genuinely intrigued.

“Of course, you can say no, you always can. You have rights and all that sort of thing,” It was the start of a ramble. He was nervous, and it was almost…sweet. Whatever he was about to say, he meant it, because he was about to be vulnerable and offer himself up to rejection, which was something he could not handle otherwise. He sucked in a sharp breath. “Let me show you that it’s more than sex, it’s a connection. Let me make love to you. Please,” he turned his face to where his nose grazed along your cheek, and you could feel his lips just barely make contact with your jaw. It was different, you could tell he was waiting for permission, a change from the usual Alex who could never wait to be all over you. You couldn’t deny that you weren’t immediately tempted by the idea. Your sex drive often rivaled Alex’s, which was saying something. You hesitated, thinking of his offer. You realized that you couldn’t figure out for the life of you what his idea of making love even was. He was always so rough and, well, slightly perverted. Was it going to be a quick fuck that confirmed your fears? But what if you didn’t regret it? In the end, you trusted yourself, your instincts, and faced him to where your nose almost touched his and nodded silently.

He sucked in another small breath, scared you would change your mind, then slid off the bed to stand up. He grabbed your hands and pulled you to sit up, making it easy for him to lift the edge of your, well, his graphic tee actually, and slowly remove it. Cold fingertips brushed against your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body. your hair was already fluffed up a bit by pulling the shirt over your head, and he was looking forward to seeing it even wilder after he was done declaring his love for you. He took turns, placing a kiss on each breast, his hands behind you as he unhooked your bra. It was something he had done before, but it still took him a little bit to figure out the “awful contraption”, as he called it. Still, he left no time to waste by sucking hard on your breasts. Purple marks will surely have bloomed in the place of each kiss by the time you woke up tomorrow, marks that said “his”. Looking down, you giggled when you saw his mildly frustrated expression while he continued toggling with the clip. When it finally released, he had a sort of kiddish excitement. The straps had begun to slip off your shoulders when he suddenly pulled it off completely, throwing it somewhere in the room. He smirked up at you.

well it’s not like she’ll be needing that

He proceeded to kneel and slid his hands up your thighs, feeling the smooth skin underneath your skirt. When he removed them they were slightly warmer from the heat of your skin, which you appreciated when he touched your stomach again as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of your skirt and tugged. You lifted your hips in order for him to pull it off completely. The way you arched off the bed brought his face closer to exactly where he wanted to be. He swallowed hard when he saw what you were wearing, or barely wearing. When you lifted your legs so he could take off your underwear, you hooked one of your knees over his shoulder, bringing him even closer. The coolness of the air met your now fully exposed cunt, causing you to bite your lip.

He looked down at the lace in his hands. It was part of one of your prettier sets of lingerie, and you often wore something nice underneath your clothes in the very likely case that Alex would be ripping it off you later.

“Yeah I’m keeping these,” he smirked. Evidently, he really liked these new ones, placing the dainty cloth in the back pocket of his jeans with a wink.

“That’s new!” you have a little tug on his hair.

“Oi! I’m trying to make love to you,” he gave a light slap to your wrist as he smiled, but you could see his eyes darken as they always did when you pulled his hair. He laid his cheek against your thigh, placing a kiss on it with the corner of his lips. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him continue to lavish you with more affection. More open-mouthed kisses were bestowed on your thighs and down your calf, leaving wet marks from his tongue. Once your socks were pulled off and discarded as well, you were completely naked for him. To punctuate the moment, he placed one last kiss on your ankle.

Large hands caressed up the silhouette of your body again until he was fully stood up. You would miss the image of him on his knees for you, but you were looking forward more so to what he was going to do next.

The act of him cradling your head and lacing his fingers through your hair made you close your eyes, finding pleasure in the simple touches. The way he was holding you with such care made you melt. He leaned in and got close enough to where only the very tops of your lips touched, just breathing you in. You could barely even feel him until he pressed them against yours firmly, but not harshly. The kiss felt…whole.

His lips remained on your mouth as he ran his hands over your upper arms, eventually making their way up to your own hands, which had been pressed flat against his chest. He laced his fingers with yours and held them up to the sides of your head, using them to push you gently back onto the plush sheets of the bed. He didn’t let go of your hands even when he lifted himself over you, nudging open your legs with his knee in the same movement.

You couldn’t deny his profession of love was very revealing. Alex was being so soft, so careful with you. He was worshipping you; giving attention to each and every single part of your body. You knew this part of him existed, but that facet had never been on full display. It was getting you wetter by the minute.

A sense of great injustice overtook you when you saw that Alex was still covered in his clothes while you lay fully exposed for him. How could you admire the arms that would prop him up as he thrust into you if there was a jumper in between you two? In an attempt to remedy this, you slipped your hands under the hem with a whine and he pulled back to remove it quickly. It seemed as though he felt the same urgency to be skin to skin with one another as he hastily unbuttoned his pants and yanked them off. There was a thud of denim hitting the wooden floor and you could feel a flutter between your legs in anticipation. He slowed back down from his hurried stripping so he could reposition himself above you once more.

You enjoyed the smoothness of his back, running your fingertips along his spine, giving him chills. He took a moment to stare at you, tucking your hair behind your ear before kissing it, trailing down your neck, his fingers playing with your nipples at the same time. Leaning your head back, you savored the sensation, which only multiplied when he moved to flick them with his tongue. Heavy sighs earned from you became a frequent noise as he continued his ministrations. His chin glided down your stomach as he crawled backward. The feeling of his barely visible stubble was rough enough to raise your skin, giving you a slight burning but pleasant feeling. Strong hands gripped the inside of your parted thighs, massaging them as he looked up, now settled between them. Small love bites were given to each thigh, making you hiss. His tongue slid out between his lips, the tip finally making contact with your aching clit. There was no way you could avoid biting down on your lower lip as a small moan slipped past them. You found that you were unable to look away. When he flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth before kissing your clit once more, you felt the fleeting beginnings of an orgasm with each movement. It was only spurred on as he began to suck lightly on the most sensitive part of you as he slid his fingers in between your folds, feeling out how wet you were before one of his fingers slipped inside of you. You moaned and he hummed in response, overjoyed to know that you were already dripping for him. He was glad to know what he was doing was working.

He licked up and down your pussy as he curled a finger, enjoying the wet sound that came from pulling it in and out of you. Already lost in the pleasure of his touch, you couldn’t exactly say when he added another finger, but that’s what did it for you. A few more pumps of his fingers, twice the size of yours in length and thickness, and you were cumming with a shout of his name, legs spamming beside his head, bucking up and into his still open mouth.

When he lifted his head you could see his tongue dart out to lick the slick of you that was left all over the lower half of his face, including his nose. Something about him covered in you while he tried to catch his breath made your face grow hot. You clapped your hand over your mouth suddenly.

“Do you think they heard us?” all he did was grin widely at you while he crawled up on top of you to place a deep kiss on your lips. You smiled against his lips as you tasted yourself mixed with his own flavor.

“You’re cute— but sticky,” you giggled, realizing just how wet you must’ve been for him to be as completely drenched in you as he was.

“Mind you, that is your fault,” he wiped his face with the back of his hand, “and about the others hearing…well, I have no problem with them knowing how lucky I am to get you to make them. Do you?” he said as he caressed your features. You closed your eyes, still smiling, as you shook your head enthusiastically. “Just as I thought. Oh and,” he pressed a soft kiss on ur nose that had you blushing, “I love you,”

“I want all of you to show me,” you gave him a sweet yet seductive look. One thing he didn’t need to show you was how ready he was, as you felt it against your thigh. He felt so painfully hard, but you were just as excited for the pain that came from taking all of him in you. You’d never get used to how he stretched you, and you knew this to be a fact because if you weren’t already, there’s no way you ever would.

“Oh, my girl will have anything she wants,” a devilish smile was sent your way. Your face grew hot and you looked away as though you were shy, but the truth was: you couldn’t handle the intensity.

Pressing his forehead against yours, he reached down in between you to position himself. Wanting to help, you wrapped your hand around him as well. He only laughed at how impatient you were being.

“I’ll give you want you want, but I’d like to take my time with you,”

He pressed against your entrance slowly, kissing you passionately as he placed the tip inside. It was a tease when he pulled out what he had barely put in, but you forgave him when he began to push into you once more. his fingers could never prepare you for the sheer size of him, and it was pretty. oh, how he filled you, adjusting you to accommodate him agonizingly slow. it caused your eyes to screw up at the sting, earning heavy pleased sighs. Going deeper with each thrust, he pulled you close to him until the bones of your hips met and your bodies formed one.

You could tell he was using all his self-control, tempted to slam into you full force, but he wanted this to be about you. Not that you would’ve minded, but you could always have it that way in the second round if you really wanted to.

Only once he had finally buried every single inch of him inside of you did you fully release your breath. He filled you up to where you could feel the fullness all the way up in your stomach and began to pick up the pace. His forearm rested above your head, propping him up while one of his hands reached to hold your face in his palm, thumb running over your lips. You wrapped your hand around the arm above you, gently squeezing on his bicep. You had a thing for Alex’s arms. It wasn’t like he was built or anything like that, but the muscle he did have made him nothing short of an adonis to you. There was a similar beauty he saw in you, one that had a similar effect on him to where even that slight touch caused his eyelids to go heavy and light moans to escape him.

You opened your lips to extend your tongue so that the tip of yours met his before he was eagerly curling it inside of your mouth, moans mingling with each others’ as you continued to kiss. When he pulled his tongue out, it was only out of necessity so both of you could let the oxygen refill your lungs. He wasted no time though and began to suck on your bottom lip as he pulled your leg over his shoulder. You moaned loudly at the new angle, and the way your eyes began to flutter only encouraged him to speed up a little, breathing heavily with each thrust. An even pace had been established by now, allowing you to feel every ridge of his dick with each solid stroke.

“Alex please!” you repeated until the words only came out as a stutter. You pulsed around him with every drag of his cock and he dropped his head into your shoulder with a deep groan. His lips met the shell of your ear, his breath tickling you.

“Oh love—I can’t—oh fuck—you’re heaven—” Alex was whispering sweet and staggered praises into your ear as you began to feel the peak of pleasure creeping up. The only thing you could do was clutch his hair and burrow your head into his neck like you were holding on to him for dear life.

“I love you,” you spoke in a small gasp.

“I love you. I’m yours,” he breathed out. Already twitching inside you, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, but he still made sure to lift his head to see you before you came. You tried hard not to shut your eyes, desperately wanting to gaze into his blue ones, almost black as his pupils expanded.

“God y/n I—“ he said before you pulled his face down to kiss him with all the passion you could muster. At that very same moment, your nerves lit up and white hot euphoria washed over you. Alex whimpered against your lips and you felt his muscles tense as he was no doubt experiencing the same feeling, filling you up to his hilt as his cum flooded the deepest part of you. Both of your highs lasted longer than usual, but that also came with the consequence of being more exhausted than usual as well.

His body went limp but he rolled to the side before he could collapse on you, pulling your waist at the same time to bring you with him. The auburn in his hair was shining with sweat as you ran your hand through it. His cheekbones, his lashes, and all the other high points of his face were lit up by the moonlight streaming through the window.

my beautiful boy

He kissed your lips softly. When you and Alex opened your eyes, both of you paused for a moment before falling into giggles. Sex and life in general couldn’t stay serious for long with Alex. Now that you think about it, he probably just broke a record tonight for how long he’s gone without making a sarcastic comment, and yet, you realized you wouldn’t have it any other way.

He had shown that he looked at and loved you in a way that he never could with anyone else, and now you were excited to be able to go off laughing and pissing off other people together, now that your fears were soothed considerably. Sure, there would always be more obstacles to come, but not right now. You had become part of each other, and you could trust in that.

He laid on his back and you migrated to laying your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as it began to return to a normal pace, chest still rising and falling quite heavily. Both of you were sticky with sweat, but neither of you cared. It was a mix of the two of you and there was an intimacy about it. Of all the senses, smell triggers memories more than any other, and you both hoped that soaking in the scent of your bodies would help imprint this moment in your brain. It would be hard to forget no matter what.

“I love you,” you whispered once more against his neck.

“Do you believe that I love you? Truly?” he was genuinely asking, able to pick out the tiny sliver of nervousness in his voice.

“Yes, I do.” you answered. “Alex Law is madly in love with me!” you laughed while cupping your mouth, pretending to shout.

more than you know, y/n

Gently moving you off of him, Alex scooted off the bed. You sat up with a confused and still dazed look in your eye. He was searching the room for something on the floor and walked back over the jumper he had stripped off earlier. Pulling the covers off of you, he parted your legs and cleaned you off carefully. You gazed at him with admiration. Neither of you usually minded skipping that step, but he wanted to take care of you. When he was done he casually tossed the cloth in the corner of the room.

“Wait Alex, that's your jumper!”

“Eh fuck that. It’ll be fine,” he told you as he crawled back on the bed and pulled the covers over the two of you.

“Are you really gonna wear that now?“

“It'll be fine. All I want right now is to cuddle my girl, and you’ve been such a good girl.”

He knew the effect those words had on you and you were more than happy to oblige, shimmying even closer to him. He was quick to curl his arms around you, settling to hold your waist while snuggled into the rather comfy spot on his chest you had found a while ago, tucked just under his chin. The palm you placed flat over his heart felt the release of an exhausted sigh mixed with the steady rhythm of his heart. It was one of your favorite things about cuddling with Alex; the feeling just comforted you. Another one of your favorite things was how much of a goddamn furnace he was. The weather was often cold, and so were you, but clutching onto Alex offered so much warmth. Your legs were tangled together as neither of you could tolerate any space between you two at this moment. You were the first to fall asleep. Not only were you absolutely spent from your body reacting to his touch, but the safety you felt with him allowed you to relax and slip into a peaceful slumber.

Unbeknownst to you, he could feel your own heart beating against the side of his chest where you were laying. He placed his hand over where yours was on his own and felt that they were in sync. When kissed the crown of your head and closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but smile. Before finally drifting off, he was thinking about how this wasn’t truly over, how it was a temporary fix, but he was ready—no, eager to work so that you never had to doubt his trust or his love again.

[starkidblogs]

Coming Back

Chapter Three

A/n: FINALLY HERE BABY! Hello there! Sorry, it took away too long for me to post it. I had struggled to find a good plot or storyline to follow. No matter what I did, it didn't feel right, and I end up restarting. It happen about 3 times. But now i have a good storyline and how it would end. Then there was just Grammarly which gave me useless mistakes that change nothing! So to end this note with the usual. I am so sorry for any spelling and grammar errors.

Let's begin!

You wake up in a cold sweat, huffing and groggy. As you focused on your surroundings, you sighed. You were home, in your small apartment on top of your boutique. You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. “God. Another one of those dreams…” you said to yourself. Every night you had dreams about a family. Most were happy and lovely, but it always ended the same. Those cold blue eyes stared at you with emptiness. When trying to remember the girl and man, it becomes difficulted. “I need to see someone about this.” You said as you got changed and ready for work. Today you were meeting with a new client. Your assistant told you he seemed more interested in you than in the outfits. You were puzzled by what they meant by that but waved it off as nothing.

You walked out of the building with headphones in your ears and listened to a lofi music to wake up. ‘Man, I need to eat. Which place to go to?’ You thought about it and soon remembered a restaurant that your friend recommended. Pigsy Noodles. You searched for the address and walked till you saw the Pigsy noodle sign. As you walked and were greeted by a pig demon. “Welcome to Pigsy noodle! I’m Mk! What would you like to eat today?” A boy with a headband and yellow jacket popped in front of you. He startled you, but got over it and took a deep breath. Heard him apologize as you sat down. “It’s fine,” you said and looked at the menu. Everything looked amazing. You could not decide on what to eat. "Uh, this is my first time here. Is there a dish you would recommend?" You asked him. He smiled and said he'll be back. ‘I hope I made the right decision,’ You thought as you watched him talk to his boss.

You waited for a bit, scrolling through your phone and seeing what plan you had today. There wasn’t much but fixing clothing, the appointment, and cleaning up the store. It would be a long day. You didn’t notice a podium set up in the middle of the restaurant, and a man with a seemingly nice suit. Mk came with your bowl of Ramen and tasted the amazing noodles. As you ate, you looked up to see a person announcing that as the mayor, he was giving Mk being a hero the key to the city. You didn’t focus on what he was saying, but you were staring at him. He seemed familiar. You couldn’t tell, but your mind was sure you meet him before. As you finished and were about to get up and ask him a question, in a blink of an eye, he vanished. “What happened to the mayor?” You said and a girl with a green dragon jacket responded. “I don’t think that’s the mayor, and he disappears in an instant, leaving in a blue cloud of smoke.” You felt defeated because you wanted to talk to him. Even if he didn’t seem normal to the other people there. “Damn.” You said under you breathe.

You paid for your food and told Mk his choice of noodles was amazing. You mentally planned on coming back in hoping to meet that mayor guy. You walked back to your store to open, getting ready to meet your new client. As you cleaned up, you saw outside and how seeing an odd shadow coming from the tinted window. They looked so large and had so many muscles. ‘They looked well built,’ You thought before they entered and saw an average person. You were so confused but shook it off as still being tired. A man with blackish-grey hair with a horizontal light blue streak walked into your store. He wore a black suit with blue stripes on the jacket, a blue shirt, and a dark blue tie.

When you met his eyes, you realized it was the mayor from earlier. “Hello there! You must be the new client my assistant told me about.” you smiled as you looked into the planner and saw the name it was on. Trying to keep your cool and acting like you never saw him.”Your name is Chief, right?" You look at him. He grins and nods. “Yes, that would be me, my dear!” He said and extended his hand to shake yours, “And you must be the stunning and talented (Y/n)! I have heard a lot about your clothing.”

You heard him say as you shook his hand and another wave of déjà vu hits you. You held on to his hand longer. Your fingers creased his. You didn’t realize you were staring before he snapped you out of it.

“I know. I am quite handsome.” He chuckled as you let go of his hand. You felt embarrassed and said, “I’m so sorry for staring off into space!” “Oh, don’t worry, my dear! I’m here looking for a better suit. I had to one for what feels like centuries!” He laughed it off and showed his suit. It had small holes and even a sleeve becoming undone. “Don’t worry, we have many suites ready to go, or if you like, I can make a custom one tailored to you.” You smiled.

“Hmmm, I would love a new one tailored to me!” He exclaimed. “Alright, I will have one of my associates take you to measure-“ you explained how it would happen, but he stopped you. “But, I want a hand made by you and you alone!” He exclaimed. His request surprised you. “Um, if you don’t have an issue with it?” You agreed. Soon you felt strong arms around you as he hugged you. How buff was this man, you thought! You felt your face heating up.

“Well, let’s get to work!” Smiled as he twirled you around. “Okay, but please can you put me down?” you said, looking away, not wanting him to see your bashful face. He placed you down carefully as if you were made of porcelain. “I’m sorry, I am just excited,” he laughed. “It’s alright. I’ll take you to the back to get the measurements.” You said as you showed him the back of the boutique and stand in front of three mirrors.

A while in and you talked to him about the color and patterns he wanted. You took out the measuring tape and placed it around his arms, legs, waist, and chest. It was quiet, too quiet. You wanted to say something, but nothing came out. What you didn’t know, his eyes were on you and only you, even as you wrote down measurements.”Uh, Mister Chief?" You said softly, catching his attention. “Yes, my dear?” He said in a sweet voice.

“Have we met before?” You said, he responded quickly. “Why yes, of course! In the noodle restaurant! I saw you there, and you looked adorable.” You felt your face redden from embarrassment. Did you not notice him looking at you? You shook your head and said, “I know I saw you there, but I mean somewhere else? Cause it feels like I have met you and know you.” You scratch your neck in nervousness. “I don’t know. Maybe, I’m too tired.” You chuckled in the hope the awkwardness would disappear.

“Maybe, in another life. Maybe we had met or even fallen for each other.” He explained. “Do you believe in a past life, miss (Y/n)?” He asked after getting closer to you. It went unnoticed as you write small notes and details to add to the suite. “maybe, I mean, I do believe in soul mates as well. But it’s just hoping and probably not true.” You sadly grinned because you wanted to believe in it so badly. You turned around to see him smiling in the same place he was standing for his measurements. “well, I got it down. Now you would have to wait for a while. But we can sell/rent you suits if you have any upcoming occasions.” You gave a soft smile as he nodded in agreement.

“I do have a celebration coming up. Mind showing me your best and favorite suits?” He asked you. You thought for a moment and got out three suits of different shades of blue. “I hope these outfits are good enough to wear.” You grinned at him. One suit caught his eyes. “I think I found the one. It looks well made.” He said as you looked at it. It looked like his original outfit. He went to a changing room and came out looking more handsome. He wore a black suit with blue stripes on the jacket, a light blue shirt, and a dark blue tie. “This is perfect!” He exclaimed and turned to you. “How much would it be to buy it?” He asked you, and you were awed by how he looked in it. You mentally slapped yourself back to reality before he noticed you staring again.

“Well, with this and everything else, it would be $1,500. For the handmade suit, it’s half up front.” You said it and are about to tell him the price. But out of nowhere, he just handed you a brick of cash! “Awe, would it be alright if I pay it all upfront? I do trust you and your skillful hands.” He said as he gently grabbed your hand and kissed it. You were becoming a blushing mess and almost fainted. “Um, are you sure? You just met me?” You say, avoiding his eyes a bit. But his hand met your cheek and made you look at him.

“I know, but maybe we did meet in another life.” He said as he let go of your cheek when your assistant finally came to the store. “Hey (Y/n)! I need some help with inventor-Am I interrupting something?” You snapped back to reality. You were about to say something the mayor beat you to it. “No, I was paying for these lovely clothes and asking (Y/n) for her contacts. I want to know if something happens to the suits or her.” He coolly said, as if he didn’t turn you into a blushing mess. You nodded your head. “Yup! That is it! I’ll be with you (A/n). Just need to finish this up.” You laughed nervously as your assistant looked confused but shrugged it off.

“I hope we can meet again. Maybe somewhere more peaceful and quiet.” He said as he handed a small black and blue card with his contact information. You took it and gave him yours. He smiled and did a bow before leaving the store. “Miss (Y/n).” He said midway through the door. “If you are in trouble, please do not hesitate to contact me.” He turned to you with a sickeningly sweet smile. You nodded and said goodbye as he soon disappeared as he did in the restaurant.

Your mind broke whatever charm you were on. You blinked a few times before screaming at yourself.

“WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!”

Words: 1,840

Part one / Part two/ Part three (Here!)

[real-grammarly]

Uhhhhhhhh hate to break it to you but-

You said in your pinned post that “this paragraph is correct, but it’s wordy” but it’s not actually correct, you have “Writings not easy, but Grammarly can help”

That’s kinda sorta wrong

Writings is like the the stuff written by someone like my writings or Plato’s writings, what you meant to put was “Writing’s” for the contraction of “Writing is”

So yeah sorry about that

It was just bugging me especially because you’re Grammarly

Mod note: I literally had to read this 5 times to comprehend the entire ask, but I did end up fixing that. I wrote it at like 6am so it was bound to have errors. I did fix it tho so yeah ty