#and to write something in second-person future-tense

[bookshelf-in-progress]

Stars and Shadows: A Fairy Tale

An extremely experimental piece I've decided to submit for @inklings-challenge.

If you wait patiently, there will come a day--in a month, in a year, in a hundred-thousand hopeful days--when you will stare outside into the deep blue-black of a cold winter night and not be able to tell the snowflakes from the stars. It will call to your heart and pull you from the warmth and light of home--wrapped up in coats and boots, scarves and gloves, and one thick woolen blanket thrown over your shoulders like a cloak--in the hope of becoming, even for a moment, a part of the beauty of this moment of creation.

The cold of night will bite your face and steal your breath, but in a moment, you will find yourself racing across the white expanse, snow crunching beneath your boots, soul expanding toward the shining heavens in one upward rush of joy. As soon as home and family are safely out of view, you will slow from your sprint and find yourself content to amble, and wonder, and be, with the shy, slender moon watching patiently above.

You will carry no light, for the world will be light, with the moon and the stars and the snow wrapping all the world in bright illumination. Your breath will shine before you in delicate white clouds, your very life made visible for the fragile, lovely thing it is. In the silence you will hear the snowflakes fall, hear the hushed sound of your footfalls, feel every beat of your strong and pulsing heart.

And then, if you close your eyes and listen long enough, just at the moment when your heart is near to breaking from the beauty of it all, you will hear a cry. For a moment you might think it a phantom of thought, your own soul giving voice to all the aching loveliness that surges through you, but then, you will hear it again. Over and over, thin and wailing, the cry of a child newly born horrified to find the world so great and cold.

The sound will travel like an arrow in that crisp, cold air, and you will follow it without hesitation--over a rise, down a hill, through a twisting stand of trees and countless banks of snow, and at last to an old well, such as you've only seen in illustrations--a construction of wood and stones, covered with moss and aged with time, that you can say with certainty was not there a day before.

Standing by that well will be, not an infant, but a child. A little girl three years old, reaching desperately for the rim of the well and crying for water. Everything about her--her skin, her hair, her eyes--will be white as the snow she stands in, and she will gleam faintly with the light of the stars above, and she will wear nothing but thin, white rags, torn at the edges and singed at the ends, a ragged line of ash the only color in her form.

You will notice all these things and think it strange, and then you will forget everything because the child is crying. You will find a wooden bucket on a chain by the well, and in sheer desperation you will throw it down, though there will be nothing but ice in an open well on a night so cold.

But to your shock, you will hear a splash, and you will pull up a bucket full of liquid water that looks like light itself. You will give it to the girl--you would not dream of taking even a drop for yourself--and she will drink with cupped hands and lapping tongue, and gaze at you with silent gratitude.

When she has drained the last drop, the faint gleam of light around her form will become a white glow. She will seem a bit taller--perhaps a bit older than you first assumed--and for the first time, she will seem to feel the cold. She will shiver and wail and curl in on herself, and you will suddenly understand--or at least bless--your mad impulse to take a blanket out into the night. You will take it from your shoulders and wrap it round her form, head to foot, with only her shining white face peering out. Then you will take her in your arms, settle her on one hip, and carry her across the vast expanse of snow toward your home.

It will be a long trip--you have walked a long way--and before you have gone far, the child will grow too heavy for your strength. You will look to her and find that the blanket you have wrapped around her no longer seems so large, and clings more closely to her form--like something between a deep blue dress and cloak--so you will feel safe in setting her on the ground and letting her walk beside you, her thin white hand in yours.

You will wonder for a moment if you've fallen into a dream, for all seems so strange and perfect--the light, the snow, this silent child--but the bite of the cold and the burn of your legs will assure you that you remain in the waking world. Yet you won't think to question the child--who or what she is, or from whence she arrived--because she is so like the snow and the light and the stars of this crisp, cold night--things that do not become, but simply are. Your wonder make peace with the night's mystery.

The way back will seem longer than you remember--the trees taller, the stars brighter, the air colder. The night will seem large and you so very small, but you will not be afraid, for there is one beside you too innocent for fear. You will walk in the tracks you left on your way, stretching between footfalls that seem much more distant than you expected. Yet the moon will look larger, and you will take comfort in that. You will need the comfort before long.

For just when you are in the very midst of the trees, you will hear a sound from the shadows--dark and dangerous, like the growl of a wolf or the rumble of a distant train. And then the shadows will seem to take shape, growing arms and legs, teeth and claws, and they will gather in a great black wall that blocks the way you mean to take.

The voice that speaks will be less of a voice, and more like the clench of fear in your chest, the monster that mocks you as you lay awake at midnight with all the shame and sorrows of your wasted youth.

We will have the child.

You will know that the voice promises death for disobedience, and you will know to the depths of your soul that you would rather die than obey. You will hold the child close, and she will cling to your neck, and you will sprint with all your strength back toward the well. The shadows will surge and swirl around you, grabbing at your clothes, tearing at your face, and once--only once--drawing blood that drips a red path upon the snow.

You will sprint through the snow and twine through the trees, each step seeming a mile, each moment a lifetime. The shadows will gather--closer, darker--and the light of the child in your arms will fade with fear.

At last, you will see the well at the base of the hill, seeming to shine in a circle of light. If you can reach it, you know, you will be safe--every childhood game seeming suddenly like training for this very moment.

And yet, at the very edge of the clearing--somehow you always knew this would happen--you will lose your footing and fall face-first into the snow. You will shield the child's face from the snow by holding her close, and you will shield her body with your own. The shadows will fall upon you, tearing you to pieces. Your very body will seem to dissolve in pain.

Through their snarling, the shadows will promise relief, if you will only relent--the child's life for yours. Not so great a sacrifice, is it, for a child you've known for mere minutes? These words will tear at your mind, but it is your heart that will reply, drawing strength for defiance from you know not where. And you will. not. move.

You will feel the night fading--the stars and the snow and even the cold growing distant, like some faraway world in which you have no part. Even the pain will seem like something happening long ago and far away to some ancient hero in a dusty, tattered book. Yet you will feel the child beneath you, her beating heart still alive against yours, and that hope will keep you clinging to the tatters of breath in your body.

Then, at last, there will be light. So bright that it blazes white even through your closed eyes. The shadows will crumble like ash, retreat like the dark from a flame, and the destruction of your battered form will cease. The child you shelter will cry with joy.

A gentle touch will lift your shoulder so you lay on one side, and attempt to pull the child from your arms.

With a cry of defiance, you will hold her with what remains of your strength.

But then a voice will flow through you, lovely and feminine, like water and winter and moonlight given tongue. Peace.

Peace will come, perfect and pure, and you will release the child without fear. But without her presence, your need for strength will fade, and all your pain will come rushing in upon you, dark and hot and crushing, and you will have no strength to hold it back.

Absurdly, you will be most aware of an all-consuming thirst. Tears will pour from you--precious, wasted droplets. Then it will be you, and not the child, who cries for water. Then it will be the child who will draw water from the well and put the shining liquid to your lips.

You will drink, and the first mouthful will bring the cold climbing back upon you. But you will welcome it as re-entry into this world, and drink deep, again and again, until you find yourself freezing, but wholly alive, your wounds as if they never were. You will sit and gaze up at a woman dressed in midnight blue, as white and glowing as the child, who clings to her as she would to a mother, and you will find yourself alight with the same glow.

You have served my daughter well, that lovely inner voice will say again. Come and be at peace.

She will turn your eyes toward the heavens, and offer you a place there in the shining light, far from the troubles of this dark world. It will draw you as the snowflakes drew you from the warmth of home, so many long moments ago. Yet you will find yourself standing, and bowing your head, and with utmost humility refusing the honor. You will not leave this world, be there ever so many shadows, while there is still more beauty to behold.

The woman will smile, pleased with your answer, and the light surrounding you will fade. And you will see your home alight on a nearby hillside, waiting for your return.

You will say your farewells to the child--who embraces you with gratitude--and turn your path toward home. The child and her mother will do the same, fading as the sunset fades with the coming of night. And you will notice two stars in the sky above where you had noticed none before.

You will smile up at them and walk home--warm, alive and fearless. There will be no more shadows lurking along your path. But high above, and all around, you will know there is--and always will be--light.

[allywthsr]

WRONG PERSON | (l.norris)

summary: you send a sexy video to some tinder guy, until you realize you tapped Lando‘s contact instead, you both help the other to finish what you started

wordcount: 2.4k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, talking about toys, details about masturbation, phone sex, dirtytalk

notes: inspired by this!!! Tell me what you think, I‘m still scared to write smut, hope you all like this🫣

You were working for Quadrant, it wasn’t like you were some important boss or something, you mostly dealt with customers and sometimes got to plan a video, but Lando still took the time and got to know you. When the whole team went out for dinner, Lando talked to everyone for at least twenty minutes, he wanted to know who was working for him and his brand.

There was no denying you found him handsome, everybody thought he was pretty, but you needed to hide your excitement in your panties whenever he was near you. Not only did he make eye contact every time you two talked, but he also smelled delicious, you wanted to rip his clothes off, the whole time he was near you.

But back to where you were now, laying in bed naked, at almost one am, with your phone in your hand. You were single and desperate, texting with guys from Tinder, who were not worth more than a quick fuck, but you were young and had your needs.

With your phone in one hand, and your left boob in the other, you recorded a small video, where you were squeezing your boob and moaned slightly. You‘ve been snapchatting with a guy you met on Tinder, both of you were horny and needed a release, so why not help each other? You quickly wrote a text to the video, to make it more seducing, ’ You make me so wet…‘ and taped on the slot on Snapchat where he was for the last few snaps, before you could double check that you selected him, you hit sent and threw the phone next to you.

While you waited for his answer, your hand slowly made its way to your pussy, circling your wet clit. With a moan, you teased yourself and kept stopping the sensation in your most private area. When you heard the Snapchat notification tone, you took your phone in your hand and only saw that Lando send you a snap, it wasn’t unusual that he would snap you, you two were streaking after all, but at that time was a little odd, because you were kinda bored and waiting for your guy to reply, you withdraw your fingers from your wet cunt and opened Lando’s snap.

With a gasp, you threw away your phone, the first photo was a normal snap, a picture of his bedroom with some series on Netflix playing, but when you tapped on the screen to exit the snap, a new picture popped up. You could see his hand holding his boxershorts clothed dick, he was hard and big, long and thick. He also wrote a little text, you had to read it twice, making sure your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you, ’was this meant for me, babygirl?‘

You didn’t know what to do, so you did nothing for a few seconds, you didn’t feel horny anymore, suddenly aware of the cold air hitting your still-hot pussy. Should you reply and apologize, saying how you accidentally sent your boss a nude, and look him in the eye at the next dinner? Impossible.

You thought about leaving the country and starting all over again, where no one knew Lando, but that wasn’t a solution either, you had to face him and say that it wasn’t meant for him. But how can you get rid of the image in your head of his dick, the only thing that was roaming through your brain right now was how lucky his future wife would be. With a dick like that, she sure would be happy for the rest of her life.

You excited the snap and took a deep breath, what were you going to say, sorry I send you a nude, but your dick looks nice? No. It took you at least two minutes to think about it and when you took a picture of half your face and started writing a paragraph of apologies, your phone showed you an incoming call.

Lando Norris.

Shit. Your whole body tensed, you couldn’t answer, you just had to pack your things and go, leave London and Lando behind, but something in you didn’t want that, and after what seemed like hours, you did answer the call.

”Hey Lando, look uhm, I‘m sorry I sent you that video, it wasn’t meant for you, obviously. B…But thank you for responding, I mean that picture was nice, but I don’t think that this uhm professionalism between us should be broken. If.. if you want me to leave Quadrant, I‘ll do that.. uhm I’m sorry for sending you that, and I-“

”Y/N, will you stop rambling?“, his voice sounded like he was out of breath, you started shaking when you heard him speak.

”I‘m sorry, for rambling and sending you the video.“

He chuckled, ”Don’t be, maybe you could’ve seen by my response, that I wasn’t mad about it. Sure having your employee suddenly sending you a video where she squeezes her boob and moans, isn’t something I‘d expect, but you have beautiful boobs.“

You didn’t know what to say, so the only thing that came out of your mouth was a: ”Thank you?“, you could hear your heartbeat in your chest, the silence on the other line panicked you.

”But, maybe this is unprofessional of me now, but you left me in a kind of hard situation, Y/N. I bet you’re still wet if your fingers would slide between your legs, aren’t you?“

Your breath hitched, was this for real? Was Lando Norris, your boss, dirty talking to you?

”I..I don’t know, it was a pretty big shock to see you replying, I‘m not as horny as I was ten minutes ago.“

”Then I want you to glide your hand over your boobs and stomach, down to your pussy, I bet it’s pretty, and then tell me how wet you are.“

With a small sigh, you did what he told you, gliding over your boobs and stomach to your pussy, you touched your entrance slightly and felt yourself pulsating, you may not be as horny anymore, but your wetness said otherwise, maybe a part of you already found it hot that Lando actually replied to you.

”Fuck, I‘m so wet Lando.“

You heard a moan from the other line and some sheet rustling, ”Baby, I want you to touch yourself like you would do without me. Finger yourself, rub your clit, do whatever satisfies you. I‘m hard as a rock baby, I need to touch myself too, I wish you were here to do it for me.“

You did as Lando told you, rubbing your clit in circles and feeling yourself come closer to the edge, this whole situation was so hot, it turned you on so badly.

”Please touch yourself, Lando, I wish I was there to help you.“

”I could eat you out until you’re crying and begging me to stop because you would be overstimulated.“

Another moan escaped your mouth and slowly you let your fingers slip into you, which was no problem due to your wetness, but it wasn’t enough, you needed more, thankfully Lando seemed to know what you were thinking when he heard your unsatisfied moans.

”Do you need more baby? Are your fingers not enough, you need my dick to stretch you out?“

You let out whiny and breathy ’yes‘, this situation was so bizarre but hot at the same time.

”Do you have any toys, Y/N? I want you to use a toy on yourself.“

”I..I do.“

”Show me.“

”Can we switch to FaceTime? It’s easier, and I want to see you.“

Lando hummed and muttered a quick goodbye before the screen with the call disappeared, the only thing you could see on your phone now was the picture you took a few minutes ago, and before you could do anything else, the FaceTime call from Lando came in. You answered without thinking about it and you were greeted with a big and girthy dick, and your mouth watered a little. You held the phone up, so he could see your face and your boobs, which he commented with a quiet ’fuck‘.

”Show me your toys, baby.“

You quickly got up and propped the phone against your lamp that stood on the nightstand, while you looked under your bed to fish out the box with your toys. It wasn’t like you were some pornstar and had thousands of toys, but over the years you had collected a fair amount of little helpers.

By now Lando had switched back to his face, so you could see his little beard and his eyes, he kept biting his lower lip, while watching you.

You opened your box and grabbed the first toy you saw, a standard dildo, it was skin-colored and a bit longer and thicker than the normal ones. You showed it to Lando and he groaned, tilting his head back, ”Is that your favorite?“, he asked.

You shook your head and pulled out a pink satisfyer, it was a mixture of a vibrator and dildo, but it also had a clit sucking element. That one was your favorite, you had spent hours with this beauty, and it never left you hanging. ”This is my favorite, you don’t know how good this feels.“

”Tell me about it.“

”It’s so fucking good, Lando. This clit sucking thing? It feels like heaven, it gets me there within a few minutes, the fastest I‘ve ever had an orgasm.“

”I bet I could get you there faster.“

That statement left you with a smirk, only the thought of Lando going down on you, made your head spin, you needed that.

”I can see that you’re imagining it right now, I bet you taste amazing, I would finger you, while lapping at your clit, you would be so full.“

You shut your eyes, and whined, your pussy clenching around nothing.

”What else do you have in there?“

”I have a wand“, you lifted the typical wand and dropped it on the bed, ”I also have a rabbit vibrator, and this“, you lifted another pink vibrator, but this one was smaller.

”You know what this is for, Lando?“

”I‘ve seen it in porn“, he smirked, ”have you ever let someone control it while being somewhere public?“

You nodded, it was a vibrator that you would insert into your pussy and it could be controlled with an app, you‘ve only used it once with someone.

”I was on a date with someone from Tinder, and we‘d been sexting for days and I gave him the app and he controlled it over dinner, it was an experience and I loved it.“

”I want to control it in our next meeting, seeing you tremble over some video ideas is going to be fucking hot.“

Another wave of pleasure rushed through your body, you couldn’t believe you were talking that way with your boss, unbelievable.

”I want you to use that rabbit on you.“

You chuckled, and held the rabbit vibrator into the camera, ”This one?“

Lando nodded eagerly, with a smirk you opened your mouth, dared your tongue out, and licked a long stripe over the part that goes inside of you. After a few licks, you put it fully in your mouth and started sucking it.

You could see how Lando started touching himself again, his eyes closed every now and then and he let out small whimpers. This was your sign that you needed to touch yourself too, so you laid on the bed and flipped the camera to your lower part, where the vibrator was circling your clit. Lando also flipped the camera and you saw his dick that was already leaking pre cum, he moved his thumb over his tip every now and then while moving his cock through his fist, collecting the white fluid. Due to your wetness, the vibrator slipped inside of you with ease, you turned it on and gasped when you felt the vibrations.

”Do you like that? Having your pussy stuffed.“

”Yes, Lando, yes. I need you here next to me.“

”I need you too, wrapped around my cock, you would be screaming and keeping up the neighbors all night.“

With a loud moan, you could feel yourself getting closer to a release, the tip edging your clit made you almost scream and the way you moved the vibrator in and out of you, made you see stars. Lando also was about to cum, he saw that your pussy got wetter and wetter, your fluids squeezing out of your cunt every time the vibrator left it.

”I’m about to cum, Y/N. Show me your face, are you cumming soon?“

You moaned loudly again and flipped the camera, just like Lando did, “Yes, Lando, I wish it was you filling me so well.“

With a loud moan and a lot of curses, Lando spilled his cum all over his hand and stomach, he quickly flipped the camera again, now showing you the mess he created, “That’s all for you, baby, I wish it was inside of you instead on the stomach. Cum for me Y/N, let go.“

While he said those words to you, you felt yourself falling over the edge, with moans and grunts. Lando was sure he never heard something so sexy, those sounds alone made him horny again, he needed to feel you close.

When both of you came down from your highs, you two let out a laugh, realizing what you just did, you had phone sex with your boss, but it felt right and good, and the way his cum sat on his stomach, made you horny again, you needed him.

“You feeling better now?“

“Lando, you’ve no idea, so much better than the weird Tinder guy the video actually was for.“

“I bet, but I still need you, Y/N.“

“Are you in London?“

He hummed.

“Well, my bed is cold without you in it, if you want, my pussy is ready for you, Lando.“

“Send me your address, I’ll be over in ten minutes, you better not start without me, or you’ll get punished.“

Part two

taglist: @millinorrizz @jamieeboulos @loxbbg

[erosiism]

GENSHIN MEN AND…

prompt: HOW THEY WOULD REACT IF YOU SACRIFICED YOUR LIFE FOR THEM

character(s): diluc, zhongli [part one] childe, ayato [part two, out]

warnings(s): angst ofc—mention of blood, my first post on tumblr so my writing style may be a little icky, inaccuracies since I haven’t looked up genshin lore for a hot minute 

note(s): male reader, second person, present tense, not beta read

DILUC

There’s a lot of things you haven’t told him yet. Things you wished you had told him—but everything’s fine, because in this single action you are willing to do for him—your feelings will come inevitably with it and it’s a torrent of emotions that you’re about to burden him with.

He’s been your childhood friend for seventeen years now. All those times you have seen him, smiling, his merry laughter carrying over the breeze, his lips purple from sampling grapes, to the time where that very laughter and smiles disappear to smoothen into a stone face. After the death of his father, Diluc has become reserved, cold, and rather distant. Bitter.

You two were close, once.

You two had a bond that many could not quite interpret— it was as clear as day that you both trusted each other fully, but each always had secrets to hide. Some say proximity is the reason why both of you got close — your manors were near to each other, but truthfully, it was as simple as it was: you two had the same social standing. Both you and Diluc were, for each of their families, supposed to be close for the sake of future alliances and unions, but the friendship soon turned genuine, only for it to crumble under the weight of guilt and grief.

Only for it to crumble on the day Crepus died.

You still remember it vividly; in all its sickening, gruesome, heart wrenching detail. You were fortunate enough not to witness it, but etched in your memory, all you can think of is Diluc’s ravaged expression when he trembled before his father’s corpse.

You were helpless then. You could have extended an arm, you could have done something.

You didn’t.

But now would be different. You know the archons have it in for him when the incident happens the same way it happened with his father: via a carriage incident. 

You laugh then at its bitter irony.

Bandits come, a whole load of them, and this time Diluc fights while you are there helpless once again, trembling when you hear the clash of swords and arrows. When you hear his claymore smash against flesh. You don’t have a vision. Diluc has. You don’t have any particular skill in handling a sword; Jean has tried to teach you once, but it has failed. Your brain may be quick and witty, but your steps aren’t. 

The bandits have delusions. The archons really are cruel.

You see it before he does. There’s a burst of electric power that he's battling, the elementals clashing with each other—you’re still lagging behind, barely missing the whizzing arrows that skim your flesh, your heart wrenching as you see Diluc’s pained expression. You know what he’s thinking of, and it isn’t you. His memories are reverting back to his father’s death. His birthday. And perhaps that’s why his usual sharpness is wearied down.

You see the sword about to plunge his back before he does.

You scream to tell him.

Your body moves before anything.

Your fingers fumble to clasp the fabric of your clothes, before you tug him out of the way. You feel the weight of a sword against your back; you feel the way it slices through your skin before it presses against your flesh. You taste blood on your tongue, before a myriad of colors burst out; crimson, carmine. All the shades of red. You wobble then, choking out blood, before you stumble. You hear a few slices; razor, swift sharp ones. Then the last of the assailants falls down, and you are made aware that your decision has been the right one.

Diluc has survived. 

You stumble. You feel your body hit the ground. Murkiness runs your vision.

“[Name],” you hear a soft, whispering voice carry to your ears. You try your best to cling onto the words. But pain is burning within you—it’s ironic, how they feel more scorching than Diluc’s flames have ever felt. You try your best to swallow down your pants and your pained noises, but it ends up slipping from your mouth in broken, mottled syllables.

Your blurry vision makes out a face.

He cannot be Diluc. He’s crying. And the last time you have seen Duluc cry is when—

Oh.

“Don’t cry,” you say weakly. “Don’t cry, Diluc. I’m sorry I wasn’t of much help.” You try to reach out to his cheek. You regret it a split second afterwards because blood stains his cheeks wet from tears. You end up smearing red all over his face.

“Why?” Diluc says, and it sounds guttural, like the words have been punched out from him. “Why, [Name]?” You hear a flurry of footsteps behind. You assume it’s some surviving witness who has gone to call for backup. But you doubt you’ll survive.

You don’t even know why. To begin with, you aren’t even sure if you are in love with him. The swirling butterflies that flutter about when you see him tells him you are, but society’s expectations push those down. You have been in love with him for as long as you can remember; you have loved him. You have annotated every inch of him down to your memory, every contour, every bit. In your dreams he visits you, smiling sweetly. And you try to remember him when you wake up, trying to pretend that he’s still there, that he’s no longer bitter. 

“I don’t know.” Your words come out broken, punctuated by the gurgling of blood from your windpipe. 

It’s a half truth. You love him. You don’t know if you do.

“I’m sorry.”

Diluc is sobbing now. It’s uncharacteristic of him. You are brought back to the night when you saw him break down in front of his father’s corpse. And you aren’t yet a corpse: your heart is still beating faintly, your lips are still moving, your body is still trembling. “There’s a lot of things I wanted to tell you, Diluc.”

“Don’t die,” he pleads fervently. His lips graze your forehead, then—and before you know it, he’s embracing you, his tears wetting your shoulder. His begging is childish. Does he not know that the Archons have long abandoned their people? Does he know the sky is empty, and that no amount of pleads can bring a person back to life? You doubt so. “Don’t die, [Name]. I love you.”

He loves you. You smile. He loves you. Words have never felt so sweet befor, and it curbs the bitterness of death upon your tongue. “I love you, [Name]. I love you, so don’t die.”

He loves his father too. But still his father had perished. Similar to you.

“I’m so happy to hear that,” you smile weakly. Your finger starts to fall. “I’m really happy to hear that.”

You don’t have enough time to say those three words back, but it’s fine.

Your actions already did. 

ZHONGLI

note(s); reader is an adepti, takes place during archon war

A God has seen their fair share of grieving. So have Adepti. Some come with age—it’s normal for mortal alliances to die before those who are immortal, after all. There is also the Archon War, which has already torn away Zhongli’s beloved companion, Guizhong. And everyday he chokes down the bile in his throat and continues to annihilate and fight. He’s always been built for this, after all, he’s an Archon. He’s a ruthless one at that, known for his brutality and his power. And everyday he looks at you and can only pray again and again to Celestia, that you remain alive.

Guizhong and you have both been his favorites since you two have met. It was Guizhong and you first, before Zhongli met you. Both you and Guizhong were best friends; almost; like sisters and brothers. Guizhong was gentle and sweet, reprimanding at times. You were sweet too, but could be more uncouth. Strong language littered your sentences at times, and Zhongli would see it then; the way Guizhong tugged at you to scold you, or the way you would smile at her. Brother and sister.

Naturally, when Zhongli grew close to Guizhong, he grew close to you. It was funny to see that you hardly knew much about history, though Guizhong clearly loved it. And so it was almost a cycle. Whatever Guizhong taught Zhongli, he taught you. Guizhong had remarked a few times, what an incredible person he was to make even you listen to facts you had earlier called boring.

(“You mellowed a lot, Morax,” Guizhong had told him once. “[Name] mellowed you. You really do care alot for him, don’t you?”

“I suppose.”)

Gods aren’t meant to be mellowed. They are meant to be powerful. Strong enough emotionally so as to not bat an eye when it comes to deaths.

But everything falls apart when Guizhong dies.

He sees you fall to the ground, sobbing and sobbing and crying at the loss of your beloved sister. He sees the way  you touch her statue, turned to stone, cradling her face and wishing you were touching soft skin, instead of cold stone. Not sister by blood, but sister in name. He sees the way you break apart after that; Zhongli feels a human sense of emptiness and pain that comes with her death.

It’s all right, he told himself repeatedly. In his grief he has started to flood himself with reassurances. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. I still have [Name]. 

He sees the way you lose yourself in battle after that. Your attacks become sloppy, you become more careless. You become more injured. Zhongli never bothered with your skill. You were talented and strong enough. But now he finds himself protecting you the times you stumble, the times you start to choke out sobs during battle, the times you go wild and bloodthirsty against those you assume have contributed to her death. 

Guizhong has said once that he loved you. Zhongli never bothered to think about that. He assumed he would know it himself, when time came. He didn’t need to worry about being in what mortals called a relationship—he would get this war finished with you, become a mortal, and love you freely. It didn’t matter if you didn’t love him. Zhongli could love you at a safe distance. It would all be all right. 

He never imagined your declaration of love towards him would come so easily and devastatingly.

Zhongli sees you struck by a burst of elemental power before anything. He sees the way you shoved him inside; he sees the irony. He was so preoccupied with watching you. He hadn’t seen the enemy crawl up to him or nearly kill him. Like how he was watching you, you were watching him. And now his care has killed you.

“[Name].”

There’s an avalanche of emotions. First, he’s furious. He will leach out the killer and will inflict a thousand times more pain on them. Second, he’s heartbroken. He’s terrified of losing you. He can feel your life ebbing away with each passing moment, and he has seen enough wounds to know no healer can save you. He feels your pulse thrumming beneath your skin and he knows you’re dying.

You smile. It looks more like a grimace. “Just survive this goddamn war.”

Zhongli isn’t sure if he will. He feels like he might kill himself, that he might lay his body down next to yours, so that after death your souls would be intermingled, of sorts. It sounds romantic, but there’s absolutely nothing romantic about your death. He does what the Gods are not supposed to do. He feeds into his humanity; he cries.

“Afterwards, just live as a human. I don’t know. Be a dusty collector of antiques. Be a funeral planner or something strange like that. Just live, okay? You look like you want to die.”

You continue to ramble on. Your sentences become connected with each other. Your eyes start to flutter. Your words become faint and faltering.

“I can’t live with you,” he whispers. “First Guizhong, then you…” it’s all his fault. He should have seen it. He should have been more aware. He should—he should…

It’s too late. You’re dead, and he mourns just like a human; sobbing, aching, and dying a little inside.

For a brief moment Zhongli isn’t a God. 

hope everyone liked it! it’s my first post so im apprehensive haha be sure to like/reblog & leave a comment if u can

[lovemyavatar]

Hello, pretty! First of all your writing is so good, I'm hooked! And if u don't mind can I request a fluff (maybe smut?) of Neteyam being so clingy in public, that man can't keep his hands to himself fr and I know for a fact that he would always rub it in people faces (especially the one's who failed to court you) like he would throw a glare when he notices someone staring at you for a second too long before kissing you on the spot while looking straight into their eyes.

Mine

Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: jealousy, possessiveness, mild angst, fluff, lil hint of smut

Yours (part two)

Neteyam still can’t believe you chose him.

Despite being the future Olo’eyktan and a skilled warrior, he has a tendency to view himself as less than. But you…you are easily the most beautiful and sought after woman in the clan. So, despite the fact that you’re already mated, that you’ve chosen him for life, he constantly feels the need to assert his claim in the presence of other men.

Like in the morning, when you’re helping with meal preparation. You’re always in the same spot, washing the newest collection of fruit, so he’ll easily settle against your back without so much as a hello.

“Morning, yawntutsyip (darling).” A soft smile pulls at your lips, cheeks warming under the public display of affection.

Neteyam nuzzles against your shoulder, humming lowly as his lips caress the skin of your neck. His hands completely dwarf your hips, long fingers curling around them before gently guiding you closer to him. You instantly relax against the warmth of his chest, a contented sigh adding to the quiet morning bustle.

What you don't notice is the way his eyes scan the area, pointedly glaring at every man who dares glance in your direction. It's mostly accidental, really, few would openly challenge the future Olo'eyktan for his mate, but Neteyam doesn't see it that way. Every single look, touch, conversation is something he needs to monitor closely, ensuring it doesn't go too far.

When you sit with his family for meals, he crowds in close, until his arm presses against yours and his tail firmly wraps around your waist. If you'll be with any of his siblings for the day, he practically threatens them into watching you closely too.

On the rare occasion that he can't be physically near you, he does his best to remain within eyesight. His attention locks on you, on anyone who approaches you, mentally daring them to even try acting out of line. He isn't a violent person, but Eywa, he wouldn't hesitate to protect what's his.

He's always finding ways to touch you, and you love it. You aren't fully aware of his true motives, simply appreciating how smitten he seems to be. No matter how busy he is, he makes his adoration known with a simple brush of his hand along your back in passing, or a quick peck of his lips on yours before his father inevitably rips him away.

It's mostly innocent, his little routine, until someone who once courted you pushes him too far. There are only a few who dared vie for your affections at the same time as Neteyam.

Truthfully, you didn't pay any of them much attention, only accepting their courting gifts politely as you're expected to do. From the beginning, he had your heart, your decision was made early on and there wasn’t any real competition.

But still, to this day, if one of them gets too close, lingers for too long, Neteyam is instantly on high alert. Like right now.

He's absolutely seething, jaw clenched so firmly he fears he might crack a tooth. His short nails dig into his palms, fists tightened at the ready.

“Mawey (calm), Neteyam.” His grandmother demands roughly, forcing his fingers apart as she works on his battered chest. “You are too tense for wrapping.”

He lets his hands fall onto his thighs instead, fingers splayed and pressing harshly into his skin. His head sways side to side, peering over her as she kneels before him, tending to the injuries he suffered on the latest supply run.

He doesn't pay her poking and prodding any mind, full attention locked on you across the clearing. You're helping, as you always do, dutifully patching up the wounded. He had every intention of being the one beneath your gentle hands, but his grandmother got to him first. He tried, he really did, but there's no arguing with Mo'at.

His jaw grinds as he watches you rub yalnabark into a warriors shoulder. But not just any warrior, of course, it's one of the men who once tried to court you. His heart thrums harshly between his ribs when your head tilts back ever so slightly, a beautiful laugh twinkling from your lips.

Your lips that should only ever part that way for him. Your hands that should only ever touch him. A dangerous possessiveness brews deep wtihin his belly, whispering that everything about you is his. His to claim, to touch, to protect. Just simply his.

In an instant, he's on his feet. Completely ignoring his grandmother's protests—which he knows will get him into trouble later—but he can't find it within himself to care. There's no way he can endure this for even a moment longer.

He approaches swiftly, fists clenched all over again as he stalks toward you from behind. His face is marred with a dark glare, chin dipped, gaze molten beneath his thick brow.

“That's enough.” He barks roughly, large hand covering yours to peel it from the man's skin.

A tiny gasp lodges in your throat at his sudden presence, shoulders stiffening at the firm grasp. Your muscles relax a fraction when wide eyes find your mate, but the relief only lasts for a few seconds as you take in his furious state.

“Neteyam?” Your voice is gentle, questioning, as you place a comforting hand on his bicep.

He doesn't even glance your way, the full force of his wrath locked onto the other warrior.

“Find someone else to finish.” He orders, tone dripping with finality.

The man looks up at him with a blank expression, undeterred. “She's just patching me up, man.”

Neteyam's vision blurs, red dotting his periphery as his chest tightens with rage. Where you see a man simply defending the fact that what you were doing was completely innocent, Neteyam catches the way his lips twitch into a defiant smirk. Sees the challenge swelling just below the surface.

“Like I said, find someone else to do it.” Neteyam steps forward, spine straightening as he towers over the man, ready to pounce at any moment.

“‘Teyam...” His name is a warning under your breath as you move closer, urging him to calm down.

“What? You don't trust your girl or something?” Now, it's clear that was a direct challenge, and it makes you gasp in shock.

Neteyam doesn't hesitate, jerking forward until his fingers wrap firmly around the man's throat. You can't help but cry out, hands moving to cover your mouth as the situation quickly escalates. The man’s good arm instantly claws at the tight hold restricting his airflow, eyes widening in horror.

“Neteyam, please!” You hiss, pulling at his shoulder, panic gripping you as a few curious eyes drift your way.

Finally, he relents, releasing the man and letting you jerk him away. He’s trembling with pent up emotion, muscles coiled tight, but he doesn’t want to cause a scene. Not now, while the clan is regrouping after such a stressful mission.

“Disrespect my mate again, and I’ll show you what a real warrior is capable of.” He doesn’t even sound like himself, voice deep, the warning accented with a ferocious growl.

The man simply watches you drag Neteyam away, stunned that the always docile future Olo’eytkan actually fought back.

You don’t stop until you’ve reached your shared tent, practically shoving him through the entrance. It flaps shut harshly behind you as you stomp in after him, hands resting on your hips when he turns to face you. His ears flatten at your agitation, head dipping in shame.

“What the hell was that?” You snap, fiery gaze boring into his pointedly.

“I didn’t like the way you were touching him.” He knows he took it too far, knows you did nothing wrong, but there’s no escaping the anger that still courses through him. He fights to keep his tone even when he speaks to you, desperate not to make the situation worse.

“You mean when I was tending to his wounds?” Your hands wave animatedly in exasperation, scoffing at the absurdity of it all. “I’m the future Tsahik. What do you want me to do?”

He growls low in his chest, stalking forward until you’re face to face, a mere few inches between you. “You are mine. You agreed to that when we mated. I have every right—”

“You have no right!” You can’t help but shout as frustration curls in your stomach. Your fingers shove against his chest lightly, careful to avoid his freshly wrapped injuries. “You don’t see me threatening other women for simply existing in your presence, do you?”

He forces a tense breath through pursed lips, trying to calm down. This is quickly turning into a fight between the two of you, which is the last thing he wants. He reaches out, fingers gently curling around your arms to stop you from pacing before him.

“I’m sorry, yawne (beloved). I just…I can’t stand the thought of anyone…taking you from me.” His voice is soft, quiet, face tightening as the words leave him. It’s difficult to admit this, to bring attention to his deepest insecurity.

He is the son of Toruk Makto, a mighty warrior, and the future leader of the clan. He isn’t supposed to feel such things, to worry about losing you to another. He’s supposed to exude hard edges and confidence at all times. Not weakness, like he shows now as he stands before you, bearing it all.

“Oh, Nete.” You coo, eyes rounding as you cup his cheek softly. He leans into the touch, eyes fluttering closed with a heavy sigh.

You had no idea he held this turmoil inside, was fighting to remain stoic while watching your every interaction with another. It all makes sense now, his constant desire to keep you close. It wasn’t coming from a place of love, but rather uncertainty.

“I am yours, okay? Come here.” Your gentle touch guides him those last few inches closer, until his lips brush yours in a light caress.

He responds eagerly, relief flooding his system at the fact that you aren’t upset with him, that you understand. His palms skim down your arms before releasing you so he can engulf your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

His tongue parts your lips, laying claim to your mouth as he groans slowly, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. The kiss quickly becomes feverish, passionate as the desire to assert his ownership of you becomes overwhelming.

You pull away suddenly, fingers tangling in his braids to tug his lips from yours. He growls in protest, chasing your touch as you lean back a few inches. Your heavy-lidded gaze meets his, chest heaving as your heart thrums wildly.

“How do you want me?” You purr, sultry eyes blinking up at him through thick lashes.

“What?” He pants, breathless from the insinuation beneath your words alone. His tail twitches to attention at his back, swaying with excitement.

“I will prove that no other man could even come close to taking me away. Now, how do you want me?” Your fingertips trail down the column of his throat, causing a shiver to roll down his spine.

“On your knees.” The command is gritted through clenched teeth, cock already straining behind his loincloth.

You instantly obey, slowly kneeling before him, hands smoothing down his broad chest and tight stomach on the way down. Your fingers make quick work of releasing his pulsing length, gaze flicking over the huge appendage eagerly as it springs free. Sharp teeth catch your lower lip, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation.

Your eyes catch his just as your mouth closes around his swollen tip, watching in satisfaction as a long moan rumbles his chest, head tilting back at the feeling.

You settle into the floor, finding a comfortable position, ready to show him just how much you belong to him, and only him.

let me know if you guys want a smutty part two 👀

[atinysunbaby]

Request from : @ateezluvv

⌛Ateez Maknae line having a crush on you⌛

Hyung line

🖤Choi San🖤

You have been working at KQ for a few months now, as a songwriter and you were assigned a personal space with a desk, computer and everything needed for the process of your job. During the first few weeks, the manager wanted to test your capacities and see how well you work in a group project. He sent you through days of endless work and you managed all the pressure quite well.

Your coworkers helped in making your integration easier by being nice and friendly and you adapted better than you would've expected, and the atmosphere in the workplace is always pleasant. Up till now you've participated in the writing of a few songs and small projects for both ateez and xikers, meeting ateez only briefly during a meeting.

You're first impression is that they are polite and hardworking boys and although you were aware of their beauty, you weren't ready to be hit by such powerful visuals.

Later, you were told about a project coming up and you were proposed to work with San on his solo. You meet for the first time in your studio, San's dimple popping out and greeting you early in the morning and it instantly warms your insides.

"Good morning~ I brought you a coffee, I don't know if that's alright?" He asks, sleep lingering in his voice, you can tell by the deep and raspy tone that makes goosebumps rise on your skin the moment it hits your eardrums. "Oh yes that's perfect! Thank you, really."

Your answer seems to please him, as his teeth make an appearance and his eyes almost close from the strain. He sits next to you on the extra chair you bought a few days beforehand, preparing for this day and maybe future tasks. "Let's begin!"

Now over two weeks working together with San and you can't help but feel a bit sad that the song is almost ready, having spent a lot of alone time with him made you grow attached to the kind hearted and endlessly charming man. "I think we might be done."

Those words hit you harder than you thought, it feels like a train ran you over. You don't like the way your heart aches, but it is what it is. "I enjoyed working with you San, thank you."

He smiles for the nth time, but something's different about this one, it doesn't reach ihs eyes and the dimples aren't as defined. "Yeah, uhm.. me too! I hope we can do this again in the future."

The next few minutes are filled with a tense atmosphere, the only sound heard being the shuffling around as you both clean up and gather your things. "Actually."

You almost jump at the unpredicted sound of his voice, turning your full attention to him and it shocks you to find him fumbling with his lyrics sheets, ears and cheeks red, lips pressing together making his cute dimple face unresistible. "I was wondering if you'd be interested t-to go on a date with.. me?"

You freeze for a second, being surprised and absolutely pleased from the unexpected request. "I'd be happy to, of course San."

💚Song Mingi💚

The boys decided to go out tonight and blow off some steam, drinking and dancing through the night. Mingi wasn't really up for it at first, his perfect night would have consisted of reading mangas or watching animes while eating some snacks before going to bed early, but the others convinced him and he ended up not regretting listening to them.

He's been watching you for a while now, having caught his eye almost immediately after he sat down in one of the booths, telling the others he would start the night by staying back for a bit. Now he has the perfect excuse to analyse every single details about you and he finds you absolutely stunning, you might just be the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

He notices your smile first, so bright and full of grace, it makes his heart flutter uncontrollably and he loves it. Then his gaze trails over all of your features, your lightly made-up eyes sparkling under the dimmed lights and the way they hold so many emotions at the same time, your adorable button nose that moves whenever you talk and your lips, round and plumpy with a coat of rosy gloss for an even more seducing appearance.

He swears your hair probably smells like heaven and he wants to run his fingers through it, massaging your scalp to feel you relax under is touch. "Yo Mingi! Min- Guys we lost him, poor dude."

Your black lacy bustier, revealing just the right amount of skin to leave more to the imagination, your cropped blazer hugging your frame perfectly, the short leather skirt with a small slit on the left side, tight around your juicy thighs making him lose his mind and cute little boots to contradict the rest of your sexy look.

"What the hell dude, what even is this?" Wooyoung shrieks in disgust, elbowing San in the ribs while watching one of his best friend drooling over some bartender he's never met before. "I don't know, might wanna wake him out of his fantasies though."

"Yeah, that shit's on another level of creepiness." Yeosang states while bitting his nails in concern, his eyebrows scrunched and a judgy stare directed at Mingi. "You troublemakers leave Mingi alone, it looks like he just fell in love."

"Seonghwa. If Mingi wasn't handsome, everybody would find it creepy and don't try to deny it." Seonghwa looks at Yeosang, defeated. "Yeah, maybe you're right."

"Ok enough of this." Yunho grabs his friend by the shoulders and briskly shakes him out of his daze. Said boy looks puzzled for a minute, no clue as to why he's being disturbed. "What?"

"Are you serious? You have no idea why I had to intervene from whatever delusion was going on inside your head, like you haven't been checking that girl out for the last hour?" Mingi instantly flushes red, his thoughts having cut out most of his rationality and he had no idea it had been that long. "Just go talk to her."

"No. I can't." Mingi refuses without a second thought, feeling anxiety creep up inside of him and being powerless against it, his limbs paralyzed with fear. There's nothing he wants more than to run over to you and strike a conversation to hear your most likely angelic voice and be blessed by your beauty up close, but unfortunately for him, his body had another plan. "Hello there~ Did you guys need anything?"

"Oh yes! I think my friend here had something he wanted to ask you?" Said friend being Mingi, is ogling you and seems to have lost all of his brain cells. You're even more perfect than he imagined, your features are enhanced and the aura that surrounds you is enough to enlight his senses. The distance between you both is so short that he can smell your sweet, fruity perfume and it calms his nerves a little bit. "Umm yeah. Hi I'm Mingi."

"Y/N~" You say with a smile, waiting for him to continue with intrigue. With a sudden boost of confidence, Mingi speaks up in hopes to be rewarded for his effort. "You're absolutely gorgeous and seem nice so I'd like to take you out on a date sometime- if you want to of course! Would you mind if I gave you my number?"

❤️Jung Wooyoung❤️

"I don't mean to tell you how to do your job, but I think this step is wrong." Wooyoung speaks up with uncertainty in his voice, it looks like he doesn't want to offend you, which is not the case. You've been teaching him a choreography for a new dance cover and have been at it all day, somehow you're tiredness must have taken control over your body, because you're usually fully focused. "Yeah you're right sorry."

"No that's ok, don't worry about it. Hey do you need a break- or we can stop for the day?" He's genuinely so sweet, you're supposed to be the one taking care of him, but he's taken that part very seriously. Making sure you stay hydrated every once in a while, getting you some snacks in order for you to have enough energy, checking the time to make sure you take breaks over the span of a few hours and whenever there's a slightly sudden movement in the routine, he checks up on you through the mirror, making sure you didn't hurt yourself. "No need, all good- Well, do you want us to stop though?"

You turn around, facing away from your reflexion to look at the boy, only to find his concerned stare already on you, searching for any sign of discomfort through your features. "We can keep going for a bit, but let's finish up soon."

"Alright then, let's start from here." You press play on your phone, the music coming through the speakers and you immediately get to dancing, Wooyoung following suit.

He did notice how exhausted you look and it doesn't help that he 'accidentally' heard the conversation you had with your best friend over the phone while on your lunch pause. You were whispering, but he couldn't help being nosy as usual and found out that you've had a bad recent break up, barely sleeping and eating, your nerves hard to control at times.

For the rest of the day, he felt a foreign sentiment in the pit of his stomach, there's also a familiar anger. One thing he's sure of, it's that he wants to pay a visit to the person who hurt you this badly and do much worse to them. "Wooyoung? Hey, are you ok?"

You wave your hand in front of his face, heart beating rapidly because of fear and worry, he's been standing still for over a minute, eyes fixed on the floor and filled with an emotion you can't quite make out. "Wooyoung!"

You try to step back, as he suddenly grabs your wrist. You seen to have woken him up, out of his weird trance, but you end up almost bringing the both of you on the hard ground as a result. "Shit! Are you alright?"

You can't focus on any word he's saying, the muscular arm that's wrapped around your waist and the feeling of his strong fingers squeezing your hip making you feel a bit dizzy. "Y/N?"

You look up at the soft call of your name, liking the way it came out of his mouth. For the following moment, you just look into each other's eyes, no words needing to be said, until Wooyoung breaks the silence. "Can I kiss you?"

🧡Choi Jongho🧡

"Cut! Jongho you need to look into her eyes, got it?" Jongho nods his head in agreement, saying a soft 'understood' to further show his understanding, but from next to him you can easily make out the faint blush spreading from the tip of his nose, all the way to his ears and the side of his neck.

For this scene, his character has to gaze into your eyes while confessing and keep a confident front, but Jongho keeps failing, not being able to keep eye contact with you for more than a few seconds. "Don't be nervous, just look at me and you'll be fine."

You try reassuring him, ignorant to the fact that you just made him even more of a nervous wreck and no matter how much he wants to be able to calm down from the sound of your voice, he can't. The truth is that he's started to develop the biggest crush on you and it's the first time he can't hide his feelings.

Everybody knows how good of an actor Jongho is, ense the reason why the staff and even you, are pretty surprise at his lack of self-control. "Why don't you guys take a ten minutes break? Maybe, go over a few lines together."

"Thank you!" You bow to the director and grab your co-actor's hand, unconsciously interlacing your fingers and the boy follows without fussing. With no doubts, he cherishes the moment, especially as you're the one who initiated the skin contact. Although he knows there isn't any another motive behind it, other than bringing him with you to a specific destination.

You find a quiet and slightly closed space, in hopes to make him feel more comfortable, but he actually appears to have the opposite reaction. Having for mission to keep a big distance between you two, Jongho almost rams into the wall behind him when you step forward to start a conversation.

His heart aches the moment he has a glimpse of the hurt expression on your face, you're quick to mask it, but it's already too late. You glance at him through your lashes when you hear a deep sigh coming out of him, followed by a nervous laugh with a hint of pain in it.

You watch curiously as he runs his hands over his face and he straight up looks at you without flinching away this time. "I like you. I did for a while now, but it's too much for me to keep hiding my feeling anymore."

"Wow you did it! I knew you could, but you know that's not exactly your line right? You're supposed-" He gasps like a fish out of water, trying to comprehend the situation. Only to painfully realise that you thought this was him acting and he suddenly feels like throwing himself off a building. "N- No wait that's not- I wasn't practicing.."

"Oh.." You immediately shut your rambling mouth, confused more than anything, but eventually, grasping the seriousness in his demeanor and hoping to make the poor guy's life a little easier, you speak up. And he's almost on the verge of imploding at the time your voice rings in his awaiting ears. "Well then, you probably wouldn't mind practicing the kiss scene?"

[the-greatest-8]

Obi-wan has had visions before, even when he was in the creche. It was a simple fact by now. Master Yoda had even offered comfort before, after a particularly difficult one. Obi-wan was well aware the risk of reading too far into them- because that simply wasn't how they worked. 'Always in motion, the future is.' Obi-wan knew this.

However- Obi-wan had one vision, one, that he hoped so desperately would become true. It always started the same, he would feel so light, so free- It was a comfort he has clung to in his darkest moments. He would be in bed, warm, and content. He would hear the sound of rustling next to him, before arms would wrap around him. Obi-wan always remembers how he sinks into, how he'd fall back asleep. That's how the vision always ends. It was never enough- not enough information.

Obi-wan wanted so deeply to know how to make that vision real. He knew it wasn't proper; He was just a man though, he tried so hard to follow all the rules- but oh, how he wanted. That feeling never left, even during the war he was in now. If anything, it made him wish even more, for a warmth to keep him grounded around all the deaths. Around all the sorrow after battle, Obi-wan just wanted to feel safe, like in the vision.

It wasn't often, he wouldn't mope, not when he was needed at his best. It was moments like this, however, when the desires in him felt suffocating. The last mission him and his men went on was successful, very successful. Morale was high, and so a stop into town to celebrate was made.

Obi-wan had been corralled into joining, as had Cody. It was enjoyable, even, he drank plenty with his men as they all laughed and told stories. Obi-wan was even sporting a buzz, he was happy, he had realized. Here, with his men, next to his loyal Commander. It made him pause for a second, surprised. Cody, vigilant as ever, took notice and sent him a look, feeling questioning in the force.

Obi-wan smiled at Cody, "I'm fine, Commander, I simply was surprised at something." Obi-wan said exasperatedly. Cody hummed, "If you don't mind me asking General, what was it?" He asked, and sipped his drink. Obi-wan huffed, "I just realized I'm enjoying myself, that's all my dear." He says. Cody smiled then, a soft expression that momentarily made Obi-wans heart flutter.

"I'm glad, sir, we've all noticed you've been tense." Cody said, his worry in the Force being replaced with a soothed, content feeling- and the gentle flames of fondness. Obi-wan almost stuttered, his face flushing slightly. Obi-wan felt warm, his heart raced while he worked on keeping his face straight.

The Force was entirely unhelpful, almost mockingly it made him more aware of how soothing Cody feels to him. Obi-wan decided then he was far to sober for this, and ordered another drink. He doesn't remember a single thing after.

Obi-wan awoke feeling warm, and content, surprisingly without a hangover too. He must have filtered his blood through the force before bed, he thinks distantly. He was sleepy, not entirely certain what woke him, so he just let himself feel. He was floating in soft feelings, he felt light and free, his troubles seemed all the more distant. Obi-wan doesn't remember feeling like this, not in a long while at least. Obi-wan hears rustling next to him, and before he can panic about another person in his bed, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. "Go back to sleep, General.." a half asleep Cody mutters, before he fully succumbs to his rest once more. Obi-wan pauses, his heart thudding in his chest, and face ablaze.

Obi-wan decides this is a dilemma for future Obi-wan, and sinks into the embrace. He fleetingly thinks about his vision, but is unable to put more thought into it as he drifts off once more. A smile on his lips.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Authors note-

Honestly I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. Maybe I'll try again later, but I had to write my idea down or I wouldn't be able to to remember it lol. Hope you like it 😊.

[yandere-sins]

Yan-Poll Results #1 - #4 (5)

As promised, here is the first batch of conclusions I would draw from the choices you guys have made on our weekly polls! Thank you all for participating and please mind the disclaimer before reading! ^-^

I've linked all polls in the titles.

Disclaimer: All polls are hypothetical questions and different factors could influence the results, ranging from your own personality to that of how you imagine the yandere to be. Writing these conclusions is not supposed to limit you in your fun or imagination of future polls, these are only how I imagine the stories I came up with to end. If you feel like reading these results will take away the fun from you, please abstain so you may enjoy future polls, thank you!

General Warnings for Yandere, Sexual Content, Violence, Kidnapping/Stalking, Abuse, Psychological/Physical Torture, Possible Character Death Mention

Yan-Poll #1

Run and try escaping or finding help.

♡ You push the door aside, running down the hallway as quickly as you can. With your yan not close enough to react, you don't waste a second to escape. However, you didn't realize that your door being open meant any other door in the apartment would be locked tight. Frustrated, you rattle the handle to the front exit, desperate to get out, when you hear hurried footsteps behind you. Banging your hand on the door, you start to panic, hoping someone will hear your cries for help as you scream, but just moments later, a hand clasps over your mouth, and you are dragged back to the bedroom you had been locked in, crying and screaming. The bell rings, a concerned neighbor checking on the household as your yandere has to take drastic measures to shut you up, pushing a pillow over your head until you have no air left to fight.

Stay and prove I am trustworthy to fool them later.

♡ You eye the front door, tempted to try and slip out unnoticed. But you decide it's better to wait it out and not risk losing all the trust you have built with the yan until now. Going to the living room, it's empty, so you move on to the kitchen, finding your captor. You are hesitant to speak to them, but you watch them fill bowls with snacks and prepare drinks. When they notice you, they smile, pushing two bowls of gummy bears and pretzels in your hands, asking you to bring them to the living room table. Three board games are stacked on the table as you arrive, and you realize what is happening. With a grin and a sparkle in their eyes, your yan tells you to sit down and choose the night's first game. The atmosphere grows less tense the longer you two play. You win some rounds, and they praise you for it, although you notice them letting you win at least once. You tell them not to cheat, and they beat you in a brutal game of Monopoly. Reflecting on it later, it was surprisingly fun, although you feel bad for entertaining your captor. The door to your bedroom stays unlocked.

Yan-Poll #2

Let them feed you whatever it is they're serving.

♡ ♡ It's not a gourmet meal, but you eat a few spoons, relieved to find it edible. It has the consistency of soup, with chunks of meat and vegetables. The meat is tough to eat, perhaps overcooked or low-quality, but the vegetables are satisfying in taste. It seems your captor checked to get good quality food for you, even if the meat is tough. You ask what all of it is, and they smile, telling you it's a family recipe before questioning if you like it. You shrug, and they utter a short "Aw" in disappointment. However, they look content just eating with you, smiling softly throughout the meal. "Did something good happen?" you ask them, trying to make the silence less awkward. "Mhm, you could say that," they reply, but won't tell you more. You give up. Later, as the yan clears the table, you notice some blood stains on their sleeve and point them out. "Silly me," they reply, laughing out loud in embarrassment. "Must have happened when I prepared the meat." The rest of the day is uneventful, but you feel full after the meal. You hurry back to your room after whispering a very quiet "Thank you," and your captor looks after you with surprise on their face before they beam at you happily.

Refuse it, no matter the consequences.

♡ "Too bad," they sigh. "And after your best friend went through all the trouble producing the meat for this meal." You perk up at the mention of your best friend, furrowing your brows in confusion. Your captor never talks about anyone else but you two. It's very unlike them as they always seemed jealous of anyone else around you. "You asked them for help?" you wonder, perplexed as you look down at your plate. Did that mean your best friend now knew where you were? Was your best friend aware that he was talking to your kidnapper? You were probably getting your hopes up for nothing, but hearing some news—any news!—of the outside world was such a relief. Breathing out, you nod, encouraging yourself to stay positive. Pushing the plate further away, you get up, announcing, "I'll go back to my room," before walking out hungry. You can feel the daggers your captor glares into your back, but you don't care. There was still hope you could be found. There were still people who loved and missed you and would keep looking. When you wake up the next day, you find a copy of the local newspaper on your nightstand. Curious, you browse through it, eventually stumbling over a page where the police asks for help finding a missing person. The picture of your best friend make tears well up in your eyes as you try to read the text around it. There is no mention of you.

Yan-Poll #3

Settle on the floor for the night.

♡ You dread the thought of the cold, hard flooring being your only companion for the night. Looking around, there are no other blankets or pillows to take with you, so you have no choice but to find some space far away from the bed to curl up in. You hear the yan grumble as you come to terms with the awful sleeping arrangements, your body already hurting from fighting all day, but at least you'll have your peace. No way that maniac would come down here instead of using the bed, right? Wrong. Next thing you know, the warmth of your blanket falls over you, and your yan lifts your head to push the pillow under it. But what is even worse is the feeling of their body slipping next to you, settling perfectly against the curve of yours and spooning you. You want to cry as they wrap their arm around your midriff, pressing their face into your back and taking a deep breath. They say nothing else, but you know they're smiling, happy to be with you, no matter your choice.

Share the bed with the yandere.

♡ Reluctantly, you slip your legs under the covers while your yandere giggles giddily at your choice. You think about turning your back to them so you won't have to see their sparkling eyes and infatuated expression, but you decide against it at the last minute. Not wanting to be vulnerable when you could keep your eyes on them. The bed is so comfy, especially after a long, exhausting day, and although they try to inch closer, you quickly call them out and tell them to stay on their side, or you'll leave. Disappointment is written all over their face, but eventually, they concede, and you feel better with this small win. Your eyelids are growing heavy, even though you want to wait until they fall asleep, but soon enough, you are lulled into your dreams by the warmth. You don't even notice when they inch their hand towards yours, entwining your fingers and holding on to it the whole night, not minding the lack of sleep when they can watch you for hours instead.

Yan-Poll #4

Jump off the cliff into the water.

♡ There's no turning back now. You plunge into the water, so determined to end this, to finally get away. The ice-cold wet surrounds you, and your body stiffens, but you immediately paddle up towards the surface, just in time to hear and feel the splash of another person behind you. Part of you expected it. You didn't think they'd let you jump and begone, but when you force your eyes open, you see the horror etched in their face. The horror of knowing they don't have the strength to swim back up to you. Their hand is outstretched in a last, desperate attempt to reach you, but they keep sinking while your air supplies are waning. You can't help them, lest you endanger yourself. Gasping for air, you reach the surface, the experience nothing short of traumatic. You tell yourself to push on. You swim along the cliffside, hoping, praying for somewhere to get out of the water. You didn't die jumping in, but the cold and waves are a different kind of torture than you've gotten used to. Your yan comes to mind as you try to survive, and you try to push the thought away, although the guilt seems to want to kill you. When you finally reach a sandy beach, people see you from their houses and come to help you, and you think you finally made it. But they are still on your mind. They'll always be.

Go back to the yan.

♡ You can't bring yourself to leave them. Cursing under your breath, you are by their side instantly, supporting them as you ask them which way to go. Your yan smiles at you as if you have already saved them, but you notice the dullness of their eyes, and your panic makes you careless. You rush through the thicket you have come from, asking—begging for them to tell you where to go! But the yan remains silent on the whereabouts of the nearest house or phone you could use. You feel their body sacking more and more against you, their blood loss gnawing away at their life. You keep pushing on and trying to help and fix this. You don't even like them! Don't even know one good thing about them! You don't... When they call out to you suddenly and sternly, you are reminded of all the times they scolded and got angry with you. Your body halts and tenses instinctively, like so many times before. But instead of hitting or scaring you, they simply ask you to put them down. You want to argue, but looking into their eyes, you know arguing would be pointless. You settle them down on the ground, and they thank you. Tears shoot into your eyes, and you don't even know why as you hold their hand. Time passes. Time spent with them telling you how beautiful you are and how much they love you. You don't. You hate them. Even though you want to leave, you can't bring yourself to get up. You should feel the relief and happiness of finally being free when they are gone. It will take a lot of therapy to overcome the dread you feel, but first, you have to go and find your way out of the forest. Wouldn't want to join them for all eternity, right?

Yan-Poll #5

I, uh... I think I skipped 5 as a number. Honestly heartbreaking because it's my favorite number but the post doesn't exist so apparently I just went straight for 6. My bad, sorry :')

[Your own thoughts, ideas, and reactions are welcome in the comments and asks!]

[mechanicalpiper]

Hey so I know your busy doing important things (And hearts out for whatever your doing) but I just had another idea come to mind that maybe you could put in a catalog for the future!

"Villain has just been defeated in a long battle by Hero and has decided to try a bit of seduction to win the day. However, Hero is Touch Starved to hell and back and cries at the slightest nice touch/caress"

Bonus points for some heart clenching fluff

Yours truly!

Cooper

You ever procrastinate so hard you start and finish an entirely different project?

By FAR the sappiest and most hurt/comfort-y I've done and was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy :3

Snippet #8

The sounds of strike after strike rang out through the empty city street.

Hero and Villain were once more locked in a tense brawl- nothing new, of course. It had become second nature to them by now- when you spend almost every other day scrapping with the same person for years, it's not hard to get used to it. Hell, with how familiar the two had gotten with each other's fighting styles by now, it was easy for either of them to just let their mind wander while they brawled if they just weren't feeling too up to it that day.

Hero was certainly having one of those days.

They semi-consciously blocked Villain's strikes and threw blows back, less like they were brawling for the safety of the city and more like they were doing a boring day job. An entirely different focus was on their mind... one that had stuck around for a while now. A thought? A worry? A feeling, or the lack of one? Hero couldn't tell by now.

They quickly ducked out of the way just in time as Villain threw a kick at their head, knocking them out of their train of thought and back into full consciousness.

Yeah, fuck, they were fighting Villain. Almost forgot.

Villain certainly took notice of their sudden attention. "Oh, THERE you are. C'mon, can't you at least focus? It's so much less fun when you zone out like that."

"Whuh-? Pff, fun? I'm here to stop you from committing murder, not for a little playdate." Hero grumbled back at their rival, still not fully back at attention.

"Hm. Certainly not the attitude from our first battle. Losing your touch, maybe?" Villain taunted back.

"You wish."

"I don't think I need to. You seem to be dulling just fine without help."

"Still sharper than you. I was winning without paying attention! You couldn't beat my subconscious, how do you expect to beat the rest of me?" As Hero shot back, a tiny smile began to form on their face. Wow, it's been a while since they've bantered in combat like this... it felt nice to just speak with someone, even if that someone was Villain, of all people.

"PFFFF. Winning? The only reason you're not bleeding out on the concrete right now is because I'm having fun with this. I spared you there, y'know~" Villain taunted, a confident grin on their face.

"Yeah, riiiight. How about you actually do something threatening before making simple empty thr-"

Hero was cut off by a sudden feeling- they brought a forearm up to block a strike from Villain, but instead of the expected punch, they felt a grab.

A... grab?

Hero froze in place for the slightest moment.

It was only a split second, but it felt like ages, as if their brain was desperately trying to to cling onto the brief moment. The slightest sensation.

Villain's touch was soft.

Yet, despite everything, the moment was still over far too quickly. Hero hardly even considered why Villain would go for a grab in the moment- by the time they processed the fact it was an attack, it was far too late.

Villain turned around to throw Hero against the concrete wall of the building behind them.

They let out a yelp of pain as they slammed backwards into the wall. After the touch, the motion of being thrown, the hard hit... Hero was far too disoriented to get back into action, let alone stay balanced. Unable to stand up, they just slid down against the wall with a small groan of pain until they found themself at a sitting position, defeated.

Villain let out a small, cocky giggle, stepping closer to Hero to look down at them.

Hero, while still rather disoriented, looked up to see Villain towering over them. ...Wow.

"Is that 'threatening' enough for you, sweetie~?" Villain taunted once more, looking down at the defeated Hero with cocky confidence. God, they loved the feeling of the weakened Hero looking up at them. Always felt nice to win against them.

Hero was already ignoring the pain.

Their brain latched onto that one word- one Villain didn't so much as emphasize saying, like it was nothing special.

Sweetie??

A pet name. A pet name??? Villain called them a pet name??? Sure, they've heard of it being used for taunting before, and really never thought much of it, but- but something about it felt so, so different. When was the last time they were acknowledged like that? Was there a last time? Why did just being acknowledged feel so good? Fuck, they shouldn't like this, they were beat up and lying against a wall with their arch nemesis towering over them, taunting them, but- but not k-killing them? It shouldn't feel... c-comforting, should it?...

...'Sweetheart'...

Villain just looked down at Hero, their cocky expression switched to mild confusion. They certainly didn't react like they were in much pain... Hero's face wasn't that red before, was it?

"Hm. Losing focus agai-"

Hero shook their head 'no' almost instantly, cutting Villain off in mild surprise. They were definitely paying attention, alright, but...

Villain slightly cocked their head at Hero, thinking for a moment. The pause was only a second or two, though. They were quick to get back to teasing, assuming they were simply overthinking a weird reaction.

"Hmmm~" they muttered, crouching down to get level with their defeated rival, keeping that same smug, satisfied look.

"See? I could've taken you out like that aaany time I wanted~"

Hero looked off to the side, as if trying to hide from the other's gaze- Villain's confidence only grew seeing the embarrassment they wanted out of Hero.

At least, what they saw as embarrassment. While that certainly was an aspect of it... it wasn't why Hero's attention diverted like that. Their thoughts weren't the feelings of humiliation and defeat Villain assumed.

An entirely different focus was on their mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling, or the lack of one?

It could be any of them. It could depend on the circumstance. It could technically fall under every one of them, with the right logic.

Hero didn't know nor care.

All they knew is what it felt like right now.

It's a fear.

A fear of this. This emotion.

The first time in memory they've felt so... acknowledged, so strangely comfy- the only time they could have this feeling was when their nemesis was using it to taunt them. The only thing they were ever really seen or known for is their protection of the city. The Agency was obviously impersonal and corporate, other Heroes saw them as an antisocial business partner, the citizens of course only liked them for the protection, and they had nobody else outside of that despite their years of previous efforts.

The only value others saw in them was the tangible benefit they provided. The only value they saw in themself was just that. They so, so badly wanted this feeling of comfort, but they so, so deeply believed they didn't deserve it.

Believed the only way they could ever be worth loving is when it was a punishment like this.

All Villain saw was Hero looking off to the side. Zoning out again? They mumbled something to themself, leaning down just a little more.

Hero didn't always used to do that. It had them worried, honestly. It only began somewhat recently, but it was absolutely constant.

Villain felt bad. Yeah, their public motive was always money or power or whatever evil plot they had for the week would accomplish, and while those certainty were good benefits, they weren't the reason they did it.

They did it for Hero.

They weren't joking when they said they were messing with them for fun earlier. It started as just a want to fight, but the second they came across Hero, they couldn't keep themself away. At first it was simply their fighting style being fun, as Villain justified it to themself. Then the wit in their banter was more entertaining than others. Then they provided the biggest challenge. Then... well, Villain couldn't deny a sense of warmth when they were around Hero.

They had so much personality, so much energy, but as time passed it felt like they got less so. Villain was almost scared to watch it. Not because it was more fun to fight them, but rather... well, they had to admit to themself they just didn't want to see Hero so thoroughly unhappy. So sapped of life.

Villain took one hand and gently swooped it under Hero's chin, turning their head back to face them and lifting their chin a little. Hero flinched a little, but didn't pull back.

"Hey. Pay attention, sweetie."

Hero's breathing got slightly quicker. Shallower. Starting off subtle, it ramped up.

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, hOLY SHIT, HOLY SHIT.

The feeling of Villain's hand was the best thing they'd ever felt. In their life. They didn't know anything could be this soft, any temperature could be this comforting and warm, that any grip could be so firm yet gentle, that any gaze could be so powerful yet soft- they were completely hyperventilating, tears welling in their eyes. They didn't want to trust it, but they wanted the comfort too badly to treat this rationally. They'd never felt anything so unbelievably wonderful. They wanted it so, so bad.

Villain couldn't stop themself from gasping. They certainly weren't expecting that reaction, but seeing Hero just break down like that, they were absolutely overcome with the heat of the moment need to just... protect them. Comfort them.

Only a moment later, the two simultaneously fell into an impulsive hug.

Villain squeezed Hero tightly against them as Hero buried their face in Villain's shoulder. Hero completely stopped thinking about their doubts- only one thing mattered right now, and that was Villain. It was so unbelievably comfy, warm, happy, soft, safe... years of built up serotonin was flooding out all at once, and it only got better as Villain brought one hand up from the hug to run it through Hero's hair.

They'd never been this much of an absolute mess. They'd never been this happy in their life.

Villain just continued holding Hero tight.

Minutes passed. Neither wanted the moment to end.

But finally, after what felt like years, Hero's breathing finally began to get deeper again. Villain let out a relived sigh, though didn't quite let go yet, allowing Hero's tears to dry and breathing to fully steady. Villain stayed patient as Hero got calmer and calmer until their desperate squeeze against Villain finally relaxed.

Hero felt the safest they ever had, and Villain couldn't be happier. The idea that they were rivals didn't even cross either of their minds- it just felt so right.

"...How're you feeling?"

Hero answered in a quiet, vulnerable, satisfied whisper, more emotion in their voice than Villain had ever heard.

"...n-needed this."

For the first time in ages, an entirely new focus was on Hero's mind.

A thought?

A worry?

A feeling?

They were certainly leaning towards it being a feeling.

That feeling was love.

[b1rds3ye]

a farah or valeria × reader perhaps? love ur writing btw ^_^

THANK YOU ANON!! Ngl I would've preferred more detail but I needed to write something for the gals ✌️

Taking What’s Mine

With the 141 being done with Valeria, she’s handed off to you and the Vaqueros to be sent to custody. You should have known better than thinking she would forget you.

Pairing: Valeria Garza x GN!Reader

Genre: Drama, Canon-Compliant, Enemies to more

Word Count: 2.1 k

Warning: Canon typical violence, yandere-ish Valeria? (Valeria's just generally a menace but better safe than sorry)

A/N: Italic sentences are meant to be characters talking in Spanish

You hop out of the driver’s seat of the black transport van to open the back door. Pulling back the door, you offer a mock bow, knowing whoever is entering is the infamous cartel leader, a rabid animal now restrained.

You barely have time to look as Alejandro all but shoves the package into the back seats. Only when you’re behind the package do you peer into the van at the poison of Las Almas. Turning around, she locks eyes with you. Your hesitation is quickly masked as you put your hands on your hips.

So this was the famed El Sin Nombre, who you now knew to have the name Valeria. She was formidable. Even sitting down, arms pulled behind her back, her attention on you had your hand instinctively covering your holster. Everywhere her eyes went was a purposeful action, picking apart every piece of the environment, every person. It settles on the space between you, Rudy and Alejandro - or the lack thereof - and you can see the gears turning in her mind. This was undoubtedly a seasoned fighter, finding potential weaknesses within a moment’s silence. Finding bonds, calculating potential damages. With no other form of retaliation, you slam the door shut, unable to see her reaction from the tinted glass.

Offering goodbyes and good luck to the rest of the 141, Alejandro and Rudolfo brief you for your next mission outside the van when your new allies leave. You’ll be personally keeping guard of Valeria for the foreseeable future until better arrangements can be made to detain someone in such high demand.

Alejandro drives, Rudolfo takes shotgun, and you’re given the unpleasant seat in the back beside the druglord. You figured the ride would be tense simply because the others had served together. Betrayal made the air heavy, it had Rudolfo dipping his head and exhaling heavily. Alejandro, ever the passionate one, was a lit fuse, jaw constantly clenched and screwing tighter with every second.

You were sure they had plenty to discuss, but what you didn’t expect - and prayed to not happen - was Valeria’s interest in you. You kept your head to the side, the back of the head is far less identifiable than the front. But you could feel it, the Nameless inspecting every aspect of you down to the pores of your skin, probably taking note of how you had forgotten to secure one of the velcro straps on your uniform. Amongst the silence of the van your swallow was audible in your ears and you swear she could hear it.

“I remember you,” Valeria states and you flinch. You can hear the smile in her voice. “I don’t remember faces often, they’re disposed of before they do anything memorable.”

You dare turn your head to look straight forward, only greeted with the back of Rudolfo's seat.

“Two months ago, southeast port, you sabotaged my shipment. You were pretending to be an independent vigilante taking matters into your own hands.”

You’re hyper aware of every process in your body. Every inhale takes a little more effort and your back is now straighter with every bump on the road unpleasantly smacking your spine. And you’re also aware that Valeria is tracking every single response, even the ones you're not conscious of, down to the hairs on your arm that now stand up straight.

“You don’t have the patch but I know a vaquero when I see one.”

Valeria turns back to the front, Rudolfo is eyeing her as Alejandro keeps driving.

“Alejandro. Dios mío, making your own a mercenary and having them do your dirty work. I thought you were better than that. I thought the Vaqueros prided themselves on cleanliness.”

“You can’t offer better,” you retort on behalf of Alejandro, to defend his honour. It came out before you could stop it but Valeria raises her eyebrows at you in amusement and you’re cursing yourself.

“I never said I could, but I don’t corrupt. Las Almas does that for me.”

Valeria shakes her head dismissively and she rests back in the seat. There’s a small smile on her face and it’s as dangerous as it is pretty. If you didn’t know any better you would think it was a smile of fondness.

“You even held me at gunpoint. Do you remember, vaquero? But then I begged and begged to return to my family and you took pity.”

There is only the sound of the van engine exerting itself through the crumbling terrain of Las Almas. You’ll no doubt end up discussing your mission once again with your colonel. Through the rear view mirror Alejandro spares a glance at you but there’s no disappointment, only understanding.

You grimace at the memory, that night at the port. It was early into your mission, the cartel weren’t even aware you were there hidden behind freight containers, save for (who you thought) was a single sicario stumbling into your little hiding spot. Even though you lost the element of surprise, you managed to bring her to her knees, gun pointed to her temple. But you did not operate like a cartel, you could not kill indiscriminately. You succumbed to those wide eyes that gazed up at you, frightfully admitting they were prey, and so upon taking all her weapons and military gear, you sent her off.

You realise now that you only shed off the sheep’s clothing and were now staring straight at the wolf. You can no longer call yourself a hero who delivered forgiveness. You mistook the shine in her eyes for tears when really it was the gleam of malice like a blade under the moonlight.

“How do you feel now, knowing that you were so close to ending El Sin Nombre but only lost from your own cowardice?”

“They have nothing to do with you.”

Alejandro’s grip on the wheel tightens until his knuckles are white. You want to speak up, to tell him it’s okay and that you can defend yourself, but you knew what Valeria wanted and you refused to give anymore.

“Oh but they do,” Valeria snaps and she regards you once again, you can see it in your peripheral vision. “You take away my profits and I will get them back."

Your square your shoulders, shifting in your seat. Your next swallow is so dry it hurts.

"See, I don’t forget fighters like you. People like you are risky for business. Like a cockroach you corrupt my supplies and never die.”

Her tone is teetering on a dangerous balance between spite and admiration. You suppose it’s not everyday someone screws up her orders and lives this long to tell the tale. Such skill and luck would be ideal to work in a cartel, you muse and just maybe you’re starting to piece her together as her unwavering gaze freezes the side of your skull. She’s already poking and prodding with her words, seeing if you can break, no, bend around this lawless nation. Las Almas can corrupt anyone, after all.

“I could make use of someone like you,” Valeria pursed her lips in contemplation. “I suppose you could say there are a few slots left open.”

Alejandro and Rudolfo had warned you of Valeria. In particular they warned you of her fire. She burned hotter than the buildings that baked under the Mexican sun. Her tongue held a venom that she inflicted liberally to anyone who dare cross her. And yet there was no aggression in her words. Her tone was deceptive all the same, but the sickly sweetness had you wondering what the hell you ever did to deserve such different treatment.

“I lost some of my best that day,” Valeria huffs like a child that lost their toy.

“My condolences,” you grumble half-heartedly as you focus on the individual fabrics of the back of the car seat. One piece of fluff is sticking out and you’re itching to pull it off, fingers twitching over your holstered pistol. “But you have the wrong person.”

But Valeria does not relent. Instead, she leans towards you, across the small middle seat that divides you and as far as her restraints will let her. Her breaths are heavy, strong enough that the tail-end of it warms your skin. Your cold sweat feels ever colder.

“Let me remind you, that I do not lose. I trade, cariño.”

“Leave them alone!” Alejandro bellows as he dares peel his eyes off the road and back at Valeria. His reaction is enough for her to pull away from you, bound wrists up in mock surrender with a satisfied smirk on her face.

“You’ll learn to accept losses,” you state, easing back into your seat in a pathetic attempt of confidence. “Solitary confinement teaches you a lot.”

“If anyone is learning anything, it will be you,” she argues. Shooting you one final look, she then switches her attention to the window, idly watching as the rugged yet beautiful terrain of Las Almas pass her by. “I’ll be out within twenty-four hours, and your precious vaqueros will be gone in half of that.”

So perhaps Valeria lied that time. She can only sigh upon running into her own men, almost mistaking them for other prison guards amongst the flashing red lights of a prison break. Months of suffering in a tiny cell that was as empty as your threats of solitary confinement, but even then the bite in your words provided her plenty of entertainment until the next time you’d pay a visit to her cell to make sure she was indeed still there.

“What the fuck took you so long?” She snarls at her own, already walking past them as they try to blurt out excuses for their tardiness. She only switches the safety of her rifle off in response and the rest of the cartel hurriedly follow her towards the exit of the prison. Stepping past fallen bodies and only narrowly avoiding the pools of blood that could dirty her boots, Las Almas cartel always knew how to make a statement. A sadistic smile settled on her face at what the Vaqueros would think of their parting gift.

Her reverie is broken by the distant call of her title and Valeria stifles a groan, stopping in her tracks.

“Is this the one?”

Valeria rolls her eyes before looking back at one of her lackeys, curses already on the tip of her tongue until she sees the little gift her subordinates prepared for her - upon her orders of course.

A man walks up to Valeria, hauling you in tow. He kicks the back of your knees, shins cracking against the cement floor. Your whole body joints at the pain, and you further jerk your bound wrists in a vain attempt to get free, but he only tugs back to contort your arms into an impossible angle.

“Fucker took out seven of us,” he spat at you, and even through the fear of being held captive you feel proud of the disdain in his voice, even as you feel the back of your head catch the offset of his saliva.

Valeria tuts as she walks up, spending a good moment with you having no choice but to look at her boots. Until her hand grips at the back of your collar like a baby animal, she yanks your uniform back to look at her as she squats down to your level.

“You are taking more of my assets,” she mutters and despite the chastising tone that coats her voice she doesn’t sound entirely disappointed. Her face is now closer to you as she inspects the blood that is dribbling down your temple.

With her other hand she wipes it away with uncharacteristic sweetness. She takes her time, as though there wasn’t a prison break and you weren’t her prison guard for the last half year. Even the dribble of her own subordinate is wiped off by her as she reaches over to the back of your head. The red lights cast shadows over her face as she looks down at you, but even through the darkness you can tell her features hold a smile only for you as her unkempt fringe falls across her face.

“Fortunately for you, that only increases your worth in my eyes, cariño.”

With no time to even question her, Valeria jerks her head as a sign for your handler to haul you back up to your feet.

“Damage the package and you will only be another ghost to The Nameless.”

You warily check the other cartel members but none of them look confused in the slightest, only nodding at the new orders. A bag over your head obscures your vision entirely and you’re shoved forward, being led to what you can only assume to be the depths of hell.

Call of Duty Masterlist

[aewinty]

The way you hurt me

Wednesday Addams x fem reader

Playlist

Part 2

When Wednesday entered her dorm, back ridged, stiff steps, you almost immediately knew something was on her mind. She situated herself harshly on her seat, eyes never meeting yours once. The slight crinkle of her eyebrows and clench of your girlfriend’s teeth served as a reminder that you shouldn’t disturb her. A reminder that you ignored. You bookmarked the book you were reading, setting it down on her bed before getting up.

You could physically feel Wednesday tense when you set your hand on her left shoulder, looking over at what she was writing with her typewriter.

“You should get some rest.” You murmured, clearly seeing the dark circles under her eyes.

“No. I don’t need any.” Wednesday responded almost instantaneously.

“How about you slow down for today so you can sleep, then you can start fresh tomorrow early in the morning?” You said, attempting to reason with her.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she blankly stared at the keys on the typewriter for a quick second before ignoring you and returning back to typing.

You sighed, stroking her clothed back and began “I know you want to clear up the case, but-“

The sharp sound of her wooden chair against the floor brought you back. You looked up to see Wednesday striding towards the exit of her dorm room. When Wednesday opened the door, she came face to face with none other than Enid Sinclair.

“Hey! Wednesday! Y/n! I was just looking for you where are you headed?” She exclaimed, clasping her hands together, clearly not noticing the tension present in the room.

“I’m leaving for the library, as I obviously can not have any personal time to myself since someone pronounced themselves as an underlying annoyance to me.” Wednesday snarled, hinting the latter was you.

Enid audibly gasped, her eyes flitting towards you, attempting to assess your reaction.

You were stunned to say the least. You had thought of yourself to be a burden to Wednesday to some extent, but hearing her flatly say it out was like a sharp needle being stuck into your stomach.

“I was just trying to help?” You sputtered once you regained your voice.

Wednesday turned to face you. Her fists clenched and unclenched, her eyebrows furrowed as she stared straight at you.

“Helping me does NOT include presenting yourself as a disturbance to my work. Instead, you can assist me by taking your leave, as you are not much of a HELP in this circumstance.”

The blood rushed to your head, but only one thought was on your mind: to fire back at her.

“If HELPING you does not include me caring for your HEALTH, how you are FEELING, then what is it? Because last time I-“

You were interrupted once again. “IF YOU KNOW ME SO WELL, YOU SHOULD KNOW TO STOP INTERFERING WITH MY ACTIVITIES BECAUSE EVERY TIME YOU DO, I JUST GET MORE IRRITATED.”

“Then I’m sorry I’m such a disturbance to your work. If you just told me that, then I would’ve happily obliged.”

“Well maybe you should just leave now. You ARENT providing any help right now and I suspect you won’t be much in the future either.” She spat out. “Honestly Y/n I’m tired of you. You act as if you know the best for me. Hence, I have a word for you. You DON’T. I don’t appreciate how it couldn’t get through to you. I don’t NEED your help. In fact, the most help you could offer would be for you to just GO.”

Each word stated was like a metal stake stabbing you repeatedly in the abdomen. The blood rushed to your cheeks and your heartbeat resounded as the only thing distracting you.

Wednesday’s face was flush red and her chest heaved up and down rapidly as she breathed heavily.

She intensely stared back into your eyes, full of unshed tears, finding it to be a mixture of anger, despair, but mostly hurt. Wednesday softened for a bit but snapped right back when you started walking towards her.

You passed by Enid who shot you a look wordlessly inquired ‘You okay?’ In which you nodded yes.

The door closed with a thud and Wednesday could faintly hear your footsteps getting fainter as you descended the hall.

After a few minutes of silence, Enid started- “Wednesday why would you say that to Y/n? She’s your girlfriend of course she would care about you.”

Wednesday didn’t respond, instead choosing to sit back at her desk to finish her writing. Enid sighed before grabbing her coat and heading out presumably to catch up with you. In the spur of the moment Wednesday honestly couldn’t care unless both of you were out of her hair.

Hours passed and Enid had not yet returned to her and Wednesday’s dorm. Wednesday could not bring herself to reach out to you, feeling as if her pride came first in this situation. The moment didn’t last long when she finished brushing her teeth and changing her outfit to a more fitting one to sleep. Wednesday moved towards her bed only to find it tousled from before with your book still sitting firmly on it. Her eyes burned holes into your book, dissociating herself while she thought of the events that happened throughout today. Bile surfaced to her throat when she remembered the look you gave her before leaving the room.

Wednesday curled up into her sheets, eager to swallow the regret she had for you down. When she reached up to place your book on her nightstand, that was when she really knew she messed up. On her dresser sat a note with a container of assorted fruits saying:

Don’t stay up too late and don’t forget to eat!! I snuck these out of the cafeteria for you incase you get hungry.

Eat well!!

Love you

-Y/n

A/n

Hey first post yayy

Honestly I don’t know what I’m doing I just did this impulsively at 03:30 in the morning, but I hope this is alright for you guys. I have a few ideas for part 2, but feel free to comment any improvements I can make in my writing. Tbf, I’m only writing this to prepare for my SAT essay lmaoo

But yea i also don’t know how to make a master list so someone help me out there - and a tag list whats that 💀💀 also how do I add my playlist into a redirect link? This gigantic Spotify thing isn’t cutting it;;

Again thank you everyone for reading have a nice day !!

[nobodylikety]

Pack by fate 🐾

I quite liked @dmndtears 's idea about what to write about for my Hybrid!New Jeans AU, so here's another fic (not so mini) ! I hope you like it <3

tags: Hybrid! New Jeans AU x Fem!Reader (you can see it in a romantic or platonic way), fluff.

featuring: Bear!Minji, Puppy!Danielle, Bunny!Hanni, Cat!Haerin, Fox!Hyein.

summary: The adoption day at the hybrid shelter is the best option to bring home a new friend. Or maybe five.

Bunny!Hanni 🐰

The hybrid shelter building is full of all kinds of noises, from barking and meowing to some roaring and growling. A much bigger bustle than usual, taking into account that it is the annual adoption day.

Some hybrids are outside playing and doing their own things, some playing in groups outside or perhaps enjoying their own company, as is the case with Hanni. With a shy personality, the hybrid bunny has poor social battery when it comes to large crowds, so at the first opportunity she chose to retreat to her room, take a break, and recharge her energy. She could then return to the crowd of future adopters.

So she is lying on her tummy, with the laptop resting on the bed, and her little floppy ears on either side of her head. Her cotton tail wags with excitement from time to time, in reaction to what she sees on her screen. Hanni loves movies, they are her favorite thing. And there's nothing that can make her take her attention away from her laptop screen.

Or maybe yes.

Her little nose catches a scent. One that smells good, that is sweet and inviting. How can something smell so good? what is it?

Hanni's floppy ears twitch. She takes the remote control and pauses the movie, heading to the door of her room. She pokes her head out slowly, to see what's going on and maybe, with a little luck, discover the source of that smell. In the hallway she sees the owner of the adoption center, chatting animatedly with someone whose face she cannot see. So for Hanni she is still a faceless adopter, an anonymous person, but her smell gives her away.

Hanni's nose twitches slightly, recognizing that that pleasant, sweet aroma is that person's. It's your smell. It's you.

Mate.

The words resonate in her head and make her body tense at the idea, the possibility of having you in her life. It may be so? That you are her mate? At that thought, Hanni's cheeks are beyond rosy. Oh my god, it's a full color blush. And it gets worse when you turn around, so that both you and the owner of the hybrid shelter are looking at her.

And Hanni can't think of anything better than to scream and sneak back into her room, because she's panicking, and her heart is racing, over the top. She can't believe you're real. But there you are. Which, in turn, raises more doubts in her racing, panicked brain: what if it's a dream, and she wakes up again without a mate? What if you don't want her as your mate anyway?

"Hanni," the sweet voice of Yunjin, the owner of the hybrid shelter, brings her out of her thoughts. With her hand she gestures for her to come closer and she does, although she trembles from head to toe. “We have a visitor, do you want to meet her?”

Hanni stands between you and Yunjin, not saying anything. She smiles shyly, and her cheeks are delicately colored a shade of pink.

"She's shy, but she's a good hybrid to have around." You nod, while smiling. Hanni's gaze only rests on you for a few seconds and she looks away, nervously. In an attempt to calm her down, you reach into your pocket. Without needing to see what it is, she knows it. She smells it. They are treats! Yummy.

“Hi, Hanni,” You greet, showing her the small brown heart-shaped treat. You throws it to her and clumsily—Hanni is not the best when it comes to physical activities—she catches it in the air.

Hanni looks so happy as she chews, her nose wrinkling cutely with each bite, and her happy feet tapping. You laugh when you see her, touched; those floppy ears and that cotton tail can easily become your favorites.

“I'll let you spend some time with her, she seems to like you,” Yunjin smiles. “I'll be away with the other hybrids, but call me if you need anything.”

Yunjin walks away, tapping her heels softly, until she disappears from your field of vision. Then you turn to see Hanni, who approaches timidly but cautiously. There is a glint of curiosity in her eyes. Her closeness is nice, but it still makes you crack a nervous smile, because this is new to you.

With a docile gesture she sniffs your hands and then moves up your wrists, following the trail of your scent with great concentration. She then gently rubs her face against your hands and wrists, as if nuzzling it. It's a sweet and adorable picture enough to make your heart burst.

“Mate,” she murmurs under her breath, but you manage to understand what she says. This is not a coincidence, or a listening error. She called you her mate. And it feels right, for some reason. Totally right.

You gently run your fingers behind her floppy ears, scratching her.

"Say, do you want me to take you home?" You ask, hesitantly. You're afraid she'll say no. But from the way she shyly presses herself against you, it's all yes.

Puppy!Danielle 🐶

Dani likes to be with other hybrids and people, a social butterfly if you will. She always has a smile on her face to cheer up and play with others; Even if she's not the oldest, the way she acts has the vibe of being the cheerful big sister of the shelter.

Her dream has always been to one day have a home with a family that loves her, but it has always been difficult due to her hyperactivity. That is why she always tells others that they will adopt them or encourages them, although she rarely thinks of such a fate for herself. She prefers to play and have fun, to avoid thinking that that opportunity may never come.

And oh boy, Danielle likes to play a lot! That's why they had to build a new playground just for her and hybrids like her, who are hyper but playful.

Today said play area is empty, leaving Danielle with no one to play with. The adoption journey is going very well, and many of her friends have already found good new homes. So in the absence of a playing partner, Danielle approaches the device that automatically threw the ball, which is almost as entertaining as having someone actually throwing the ball to her.

That's the dream! have someone to play catch with.

“Woof!” Danielle barks happily as the ball launches, running after it. In the middle of the race the ball hits the corner of one of the tables, which makes it change direction towards the door. And Danielle does the same.

As she approaches to the door, and to her surprise and joy, the door opens just as the ball lands in said area, rolling along the floor until it settles and stops between someone's legs.

Danielle runs to chase and catch the small tennis ball, only to be caught by a sweet, pleasant smell herself. Dani has never known the meaning of 'stay still', so her attempt to stop dead isn't very good, and she practically lands on her belly, sliding to the person's feet, where her ball is in the middle of them.

Her ears perk up, and her tail wags. That puppy tail wags like crazy, as she looks up and sees you. Dani smiles at you, a wide, goofy smile, as she bends down to pick up the ball.

The sweetened scent is yours, Dani manages to sniff it more clearly as she bends down. Will you have any treat somewhere? Will it be steak flavor? Oh, she hopes it's steak flavor. It's a heavenly smell, like it was made just for Danielle.

Mate.

Danielle is in game mode, looking with her big eyes and smiling her goofy smile at the ball. Her tail wags expectantly, as you look at her, smiling.

“Do you want me to throw it to you?” She asks, grabbing the ball and shaking it slightly.

Danielle's long tail slaps against the ground, panting. Thump thump. "Yeah! throw the ball, throw the ball!"

“Go catch it!” You throw the ball past her, hoping it doesn't collide or hit anything, as Danielle darts away like an arrow. Like a hyperactive and playful arrow.

Scurrying and jumping, Danielle catches the tennis ball between her teeth, biting and chewing it, turning to look at you. Her tail wags again. She then turns to you in time with her wagging tail, with an aura of pride as she puffs out her chest.

She drops the ball at your feet and sits on the floor, panting louder as she tries to catch her breath.

“What a good girl,” You praise her as you bend down, running your hands through her hair and her ears, rubbing them. You do it gently, giving her the option to move away from her if she wanted to.

But she doesn't turn away from you.

"Hey Hey hey! I’m Danielle!” Without warning she jumps up and knocks you down, circling around you with barks of joy. You smell too good! and you called her a good girl! you are the most perfectly perfect choice of mate for her!

The hybrid puppy you just met is way to different from the peaceful hybrid you already own, Hanni. You laugh, trying to stand up, following the wide circles Danielle makes as she runs around, you with your eyes. Her smile is so wide that you see her teeth perfectly white, and just a little bit sharp yet.

Brushing off some of the dust and dog hairs from the floor that sticks at your clothes, you finally stand up. Danielle is taller than you expected, considering that she is still young. She's nothing more than a huge puppy, and the thought makes you smile. Even blush a little.

"Are you here to adopt?" she asks, but now more cautiously. She stops and she lowers both her ears and her tail, less energetic. She looks sad, for some reason. You wonder why she is sad.

"Yeah, that's why I came," You see her looking at the ground, a sad smile spreading across her lips.

“Whoever you adopt will be very lucky, huh,” Danielle doesn't even mention herself among the possible hybrids to adopt. It's like she's ruling out that possibility. As if because of her hyper nature she was not worthy of adoption.

The heart in your chest breaks at her tone. You reach a hand towards her head, tentatively. "And would you be willing to be adopted? You're such a good and playful puppy, so cute..."

Those words light her spirits. The sparkle in her eyes reappears, as does her happiness.

Next thing you know, her arms are around you, pulling you close and licking your cheek with her tongue. You pat her head, “I’ll take that as a yes.” You thought you were only going to find the hybrid of your dreams once, with Hanni, but you realize it turns out to be two. Danielle is the hybrid of your dreams as much as Hanni.

"Mate! I’m going home with my mate!” Danielle barks, releasing you and spinning in circles. The carefree, yet loving way of saying it makes you tense up a little. Danielle also thinks you're her mate, like Hanni? and again, it doesn't sound bad. In fact, hearing it sounds good. Sounds perfect, fits.

"Okay, let's go so we can go to the office," After you saying it Dani protests in a whining tone, then hugging you tighter around the waist and pressing her face against your back, between your shoulder blades. You realize that she refuses to let you go, because it is the first time she has had a person. Someone who doesn't mind her dizzy, hyper nature.

She can't let you go like this.

You roll your eyes, laughing with a comical snort.

“Okay fineee, you can come with me, but I need to walk” Danielle's laughter vibrates against your back, huffing out the last note.

So your trip to the office to legalize this new adoption results in Danielle practically glued to you, her arms never letting go of your waist for the world.

In contrast to Hanni's gentle, quiet and shy nature, Danielle is clingy, protective and hyper. And yet, both are your home. There is no other puppy for you but Danielle.

Bear!Minji 🐻

Minji is a hybrid who likes to take naps, since her ursid nature is strong and therefore makes her prone to naps as a form of brief hibernation. In addition to that, sunlight can make her fall asleep anywhere, no matter the location.

Although of course, her favorite place to take a nap is to plop down on a person she likes, so from time to time she gets together with some hybrids, especially the cuddly and calm ones, so she can take a nap with them. Minji has a simple life: wake up, snuggle, eat, nap, snuggle, repeat.

Today Minji's favorite place is in front of the door that leads to the yard, so close that she could be hit if someone opened the door all the way. The bear hybrid didn't take that into consideration when she went to sleep, since if she had, she would have moved a little further away. Although she wanted to explore the place and decided on that place because the warm sun was filtering through a large window, so she decided to give it a try.

Minji is sloppily curled up, her teddy bear ears and tail twtiching subtly, just out of habit. Although when you open the door, you don't see the hybrid behind you, but rather a vaguely defined lump wearing a large hoodie, and from whose head pokes two fluffy brown ears. You stop, and without pushing the door further, you enter through the gap and stick your head out to see more clearly the bear hybrid lying there.

Her dark brown hair, which looks incredibly soft like a stuffed animal. Her tail is little like a cotton ball with brown fur. She is beautiful, a teddy bear come true. You smile and push to the back of the room and close the door as quietly as you can, trying not to startle her. You surround her body and kneel a few centimeters away from her, beginning to gently call her to come closer.

“Little bear, please wake up,” you click your tongue at her as you shake her shoulder a little, repeating that phrase over and over again. Minji only snores loudly in response, as would be expected from a huge bear hybrid like her.

But finally, and dazed by your shaking, Minji slowly opens her eyes with a yawn, confused at having no idea what's happening. She runs her hands through her messy hair, her eyes barely open to look at you. You laugh at her curious expression of 'I just woke up and I don't know who I am, where I am or what year it is.'

“I'm sorry, I didn't want you to get hurt. You were sleeping in front of the door,” you explain to the bear hybrid, gesturing towards the door to show her what you meant. She just looks at you with an unreadable expression, probably because she's still half asleep.

But in reality, Minji is freaking out inside. As a bear hybrid she is somewhat nearsighted, since she doesn't see as well, but her sense of smell is very good. And it is her sense of smell that picks up your scent. That smell of yours drives her crazy! She just wants to fall on top of you and snuggle in your scent. Those sleepy eyes of her can't stop staring at your pretty face.

What is this? Why does you smell so good and so sweet, like the honey she loves to eat? Do you have some kind of magic to cast a spell on her? Oh, you smell so sweet and so divine that her mouth is watering…

An echo resonates in her brain, with a sound like the snapping of fingers, realizing what you are to her.

Her mate.

The ways fate works are funny because it brought you two together, but you found her, and Minji didn't have to find you. What good luck to her!

“Hey, hi?” You wave your hand in front of her face, making her react. She blinks, and smiles. It's a goofy, sleepy smile. It's cute how she always looks like she's sleepy.

"Call me Minji," her voice is more of a hum, soft and slow. It's different from Hanni's way of speaking, soft but squeaky, and Danielle's, energetic and fast. In greeting you extend your hand, which she doesn't hesitate to pick it up and sniff it. She's a little rougher because she's big, but in no way violent or that could potentially hurt you. She's just a big, chubby teddy bear.

Your scent is very pleasant to smell, calming to the point of making her drowsy again. She presses her nose against your side, sniffing you. She inhales deeply, as if filling herself with your scent. And xhe growls, she growls like a bear cub when she finds the comfort of her mommy. It's unexpected how a bear as big as her is as gentle as a teddy bear. But it is like this.

“Adopt me,” Minji asks you, just like that. Her direct way of asking makes you choke on your saliva, before laughing.

"We just met, don't you want to meet me first?" You ask her coughing, half laughing and half choking. Most hybrids take at least a week before becoming comfortable with an owner, or at least a full day.

"I know everything I need, duh. You're my mate, of course!" Minji pushes your hand with her nose, her cottontail waving to a lively rhythm.

That word again.

Mate.

How many mates can a person have? can you have three? Hanni, Danielle and…Minji?

"Mate?" You ask, smiling a little.

"Uh-huh, I smell you. We hybrids have mates…, or some do, and mine is you," she smiles while she shrugs, as if it wasn't a big deal. Then she yawns loudly, rubbing her face with her hands. “Now, I'm tired. Could you go do the paperwork so I can go back to my nap?”

Minji is the middle ground between the gentle Hanni and the hyperactive Danielle. She just wants to take naps on you. How could you say no to such a giant teddy bear?

Cat!Haerin 🐈‍⬛

While you and your hybrids—Hanni, Danielle, and Minji—are having a sweet time in each other's company, there's a black cat hybrid named Haerin who's fuming. Her twitching ears, bristly tail and slightly arched body, along with a clenched jaw in a sign of indignation, is enough evidence.

She doesn't seem interested in being at the hybrid shelter's adoption day, and she looks down with disdain at the rest of her fellow hybrids and the potential adopters, occasionally hissing under her breath. She flatly refuses the idea of being adopted, since until now, all the potential owners she has seen speak to her in baby-like tones and seem like idiots, and that does not appeal to her. She doesn't want anything to do with any of those airheads. So Haerin takes refuge on top of the roof of the yard, which is made of old, hard reddish tiles, which warm in the sun and are very pleasant to lie on at that time of day.

Or at any time, especially when you want to avoid socializing. Just like Haerin, right now.

She simply lies on the half-warm tiles, watching the entire scene from above. From up there she doesn't have to deal with stupid babbling or hyper hybrids, like that stinky puppy Danielle, until she catches a scent. A scent so good, so appealing, a one that she likes so much (especially since Haerin never likes anything), that makes Haerin want to tear her nose off with her hands.

Because she knows what it is.

Oh god, how annoying, she curses with another hiss, now for the tenth time in just a quarter of an hour.

Haerin knows that that smell is that of her mate.

And she has never wanted a mate.

Quite the contrary, she has always wanted to enjoy her solitude. And you, even without knowing what you are to her, precisely, are ruining that plan. She wants to go scratch with you, like the good hybrid cat that she is. She has to solve this, because she can't have a mate!

So she decides to go down. With a jump, she gracefully lands in a quieter, less crowded area of the shelter courtyard, so she can walk over and begin to infiltrate the crowd and hunt you down. Not literally hunt you down though, just finding you and convincing you (or maybe convincing herself) that it is not necessary to be mates.

And she finds you.

You are simply relaxing in the shelter, watching your hybrids play, smile and laugh. They are getting along well with each other, learning to live together because that's how it will be when you take them home. They have to get used to each other, and they are doing it really well!

"Hi, what's up?" You ask, smiling softly at the hybrid that approaches you. She has black hair, and the fanciest ears you've ever seen.

"Listen. I smelled you and we are mates. But I don't need you. So go back the way you came and don't adopt me, thank you,” And just like that, after making such a statement, Haerin decides to leave. But you grab her by the wrist, stopping her from leaving.

“Why can’t I adopt you?” You ask while tilting your head, without understanding.

“Oh, believe me. You don’t want to adopt me.”

“But if we are mates, the logical thing would be for us to be together, right?”

“The logical thing is that you leave me alone, cheap human, before we scratch each other to death like a cockfight” Haerin has claws. You just noticed it. Glup.

“Hey! why are you so angry with me?” Trying to appeal to her heart, you pout. It's ridiculous how you're trying to get Haerin, who is also your mate, to not reject you.

But she's getting defensive.

“Why do I want a mate, anyway? Besides, you're pathetic. You look you're going to cry” It is easy to notice that Haerin has a sharp and snarky tongue. What is difficult is trying to see beyond that seemingly inaccessible attitude, which seems like a mask that masks what she truly feels.

"I'm not going to cry! I was just being nice," you point out in defense, letting go of her wrist. You wait for her to pull away, but she doesn't. Although she is as stiff as a branch, looking at you with some hostility, beyond the initial caution. "What's your name? If you're going to make fun of me, at least let me know who you are."

“My name is Haerin,” Haerin replies grumpily. It is evident that this hybrid is not very sociable, so to speak. And as you take a closer look at her sullen demeanor, you begin to understand Haerin; she has a big emotional shell over her, but maybe if you dig deep enough, and with effort, you could get to her heart.

But yeah..., she doesn't seem like the type of hybrid girl who just gives herself to someone. It's like she first puts you on a kind of trial period, allowing you to get to know a little more every day the fragments of the real Haerin, before giving herself completely to you. You think it won't be easy, but you still have nothing to lose if you try.

Haerin snorts, rolling her eyes. Her black furred ears twitch slightly.

“Listen. I know we're mates, but even if we are, don't expect anything from me because…” And before Haerin has time to react, Danielle suddenly hugs her while barking 'HI, NEW FRIEND!'. Her tail wags like crazy, barking with joy, to which Haerin hisses. In any case, the puppy does not accept the reference, so the hybrid cat has no choice but to uncomfortably return the hug.

You are now a few steps further back, with Hanni gently leaning on your shoulder with shy and calm expression, while Minji keeps yawning and half-flopping on your back, hugging you from behind.

Haerin decides to approach you to try to ask for help and get rid of Danielle. "HEY, YOU! GET HER OFF ME!"

But Hanni gets scared by her sudden scream and hides behind you, and Minji does react, but only to see Haerin slightly confused. Why does such a dwarf cat scream so loudly?

“Come on, Dani, let's leave Haerin alone. Be a good girl, mhm?” You tell her as you run your fingers behind her ears, scratching her gently. She whimpers with pleasure, backing away. She knows she has to control her hyperactivity, and what better incentive to calm down than for you to pet her?

"Control your snotty dog," Haerin hisses, her tail bristling. Then it swings behind her, in a defensive attitude. "And leave me alone"

"But owner!" Danielle whines, nudging you with the side of her head on the arm. "She's our mate! I smell it!"

Oh, great, the snotty dog knows it too, Haerin snorts.

"I'm not!"

“Then why does she want to adopt you?” Minji asks, in turn. She is the biggest, practically dwarfing the others.

“I mean, yes I am. But I don't need a mate."

"I think you're too stubborn to admit that you do need your mate," Hanni now comments, in a soft tone. She doesn't want to get into trouble, but she believes it is necessary to shed some light on the matter.

That under Haerin's cold 'I don't need a mate' mask, there is a cat hybrid who, although she wants to live with her destined mate, is afraid of being vulnerable.

"I'm not stubborn," Haerin clicks her tongue, her tail giving a sort of whiplash. She's grumpy, it's already clear. "So you can see, I'm going to show you..., HEY, TRASH HUMAN!"

What a cute pet name, 'trash human.' Yeah, totally loving.

"Yeah?" You ask softer, a smile barely hinted at. You don't want to exalt Haerin and have her jump on you with her claws.

“Listen, adopt me. But stop looking at me like that, you look like an idiot” Haerin blurts out without thinking, out of the desperation of the moment, hoping to silence Hanni and Minji about her not-being-stubborn-thing.

"Really?"

"Holy damn cat litter, are you deaf or something? I told you yes, adopt me" Patience isn't a virtue in Haerin either, but you appreciate the effort. Or the attempt that she is listening to you and responding to you, instead of scratching you.

"No, I'm sorry, I was just distracted," You shake your head slightly, before offering her a real, radiant smile. "But it makes me happy that you want to join. Seriously. So I'm going to get the adoption papers, and you stay here with the girls in the meantime"

It's too risky, but you reach out and scratch behind her ear. Although you almost assume she will say something, probably in a sarcastic tone, she just purrs. Like she enjoys your touch, only she won't admit it. But a gesture is worth a thousand words, and you simply know it.

"I'll be back"

While you go, for the fourth time to the hybrid shelter offices to make another adoption official, Haerin remains in the custody of Hanni, Danielle and Minji.

“I suppose that if she is going to adopt you now too, you have a c-c-commitment to us. I hope you know what that means, and maybe one day you will enjoy it and it will become something you like,” Hanni suggests, with an adorable half-stutter, moving her floppy ears to one side. She smiles shyly, as two rosettes form on her cheeks. "W-we already like you, so I think we'll be f-fine."

"And the most important thing, and perhaps the only thing you really need above any cat item, is love, Haerin. May you be part of us because we are a family now and we love each other, not because it is your obligation."

Danielle, as much of a goofy, giddy puppy as she is, is an occasional fountain of wisdom. And now she shares a little of her wisdom with Haerin, planting the seed of an idea that hopefully can germinate and grow. She had known Haerin since they were both baby hybrids in diapers, and she knew that life had hardened her heart to resist adversity and pain, and now she hopes that with you (and with them too) she can find a way to have a normal and, hopefully, happy life again.

“We'll see what happens,” Haerin murmurs, as she tentatively approaches you, once you get back from the shelter offices. You watch her body language, still tense and somewhat grouchy, but there's a glimpse in her eyes that she has softened.

Just a little.

But she's being soft.

An yeah, maybe Haerin doesn't get along at all with Danielle, Hanni and Minji yet, and she still has reservations about you despite the fact that you are certainly her mate, but she still allowed herself to be adopted. Why did the only girl whose heart is locked let you adopt her?

You don't know it yet, but maybe you are the key to that locked heart.

Fox!Hyein 🦊

Hyein has been watching. Her hybrid friends at the shelter, in one way or another, have met an owner who will take them home with them. All of them, except her, who was perhaps the one who wanted it the most.

She had approached some people, but they either rejected her or approached someone else, which only increased her discouragement. People tended to look for hybrids of domestic animals, like dogs and cats, at most a bunny, but a fox hybrid, like her? Too exotic for most people's tastes.

Hyein lets out a whine, her slightly fluffy tail curling up. It has no point, no one wants to adopt her. Is it time to give up and throw in the towel? But then Hyein lifts her head, sniffing. There are many different smells; she still can't be discouraged to think that no one will adopt her, if there are still so many people.

That makes her regain some of her courage.

She has a goal, and she is going to accomplish it. Even if it takes a little while, it's worth it.

So Hyein agilely climbs up some stands (Hyein has always liked toys that stimulate her agility, so she has no problem with this type of thing) located as a rest area, strategically positioning herself at the highest part, because from the height she has a better view of the site.

She observes carefully, easily distinguishing the hybrids from the humans, focusing on the individuals of the second group that are seen alone. There are a few. There are still possibilities.

She decisively stands up, although given the sudden change in pressure she has to stay still for a few seconds, before recomposing herself and starting to go down. As she descends, her mind works overtime in an attempt to make a plan on how to achieve the goal she has already set for herself. But how to act? what to say? She doesn't know that yet, but is in it. She just hopes she doesn't make a fool of herself.

And when her feet touch the ground she immediately sets off, walking through the crowd of people, with the idea of her “ideal owner” clearly outlined, which gains more and more strength.

“Excuse me, excuse me…” Hyein makes her way through the people, she alerts for any non-hybrid person who appears in her field of vision. In passing she spots Jake, one of the puppy hybrids jumping and playing around a young man, who looks at him as if he were the most beautiful and adorable thing in the world.

Hyein wants something like that, to be able to give all the love she has accumulated to someone special. But first, she had to find someone special and that's what she's in for.

Trying.

She still hasn't found a person who catches her attention to be her owner, but she sees Hanni, one of the hybrids she knows. They're not that close, but she likes her. And since she is older than her, maybe she can help.

And the best thing she can think of is to run in her direction.

“Hanni!” Hyein begins to shout her name, drawing the attention of the bunny hybrid, who turns to look at her with a surprised expression, as if she was not sure if Hyein was referring to her.

"Yeah?" she asks in a soft voice, in a very low and shy tone, as if she doesn't want to attract attention.

Hanni's little cotton tail wiggles restlessly, looking for you to come to her rescue.

“What's wrong, bun?” You arrive just in time! Hanni is nervous about Hyein's presence, not because she is a fox hybrid, a predator according to the food chain, but because she is taller and she was shouting her name.

And, Hanni gets nervous when people shout. Her floppy ears get all stiff, and she starts to get kind of fussy. And that means she will demand your attention for some good hugs.

"Who are you?" Hyein asks, tentatively sniffing around you. Oh, you smell good! What does it mean that you smell good?

Hanni knows why, as does Danielle, Minji and Haerin. But Hyein is still too young to know it, or understand it. Hyein is barely a fox cub, she still doesn't know anything about mates.

“I'm Hanni's owner,” You introduce yourself, holding out your hand so she can sniff you better. Hyein likes the way you smell! From her expression, it's like your smell is becoming familiar to her. Like something she knows, something she likes. Something that gives her a feeling of belonging.

“Hello,” She greets, her fox tail somewhat tense, due to her caution. A little shy, too, with a barely hinted smile.

You recognize those gestures of caution, of shyness, and how underneath it all, there are flashes of innocent hope. You saw it in Hanni, Haerin, and Hyein herself.

And that's because many of the shelter's hybrids share the same trauma: abuse and abandonment. Some came from the streets, others from abusive homes, a couple even came from circuses, where they were presented as freaks, and that not only had harmful consequences on a physical level, but also emotionally.

That is why many hybrids are scared, distrustful and even reserved, because they feared that they would be hurt again, so you understand that Hyein looks at you with some suspicion, distrusting your intentions, although there is also something in her gaze. That glimmer of hope, as if she expected something from you. For you to make a move.

You just don't know what kind of move.

"Hi, little one. What is your name…?" You ask with a smile, trying to be as welcoming as possible. You want her to trust you.

“Hyein”

“What a nice name, Hyein.”

...Okay, this small talk isn't working. Because Hyein's restless gaze continues to rest on you. Expecting.

And in a heartbeat...It just happens.

"I can go home with you?" She finally asks. Hyein likes you, even though she doesn't know you. Because she knows you scent. You're her mate, although she's too young to care about mates, and she doesn't understand that either.

But you are a protective figure, like an older sibling. Someone who will take care of her. A different type of mate. But just as important.

"You sure?" The awkward and indecisive smile on your lips gradually dissolves, giving way to a more radiant and broader one, reflecting how delighted you are to hear that.

Hyein nods. She smiles a little, and in an outburst both innocent and childish (she is one of the youngest hybrids, after all), she puts her arms around you and snuggles gently. It's funny to Hyein how holding you feels warm and nice, giving her a sense of security she's never experienced before.

“Hug...” Hyein whispers sweetly, clinging to you. "This is nice. Really"

“I can take you to meet your new friends, if you want” Hyein has already seen Hanni, but you want to introduce her to the rest of the hybrids who, to anyone's surprise, are your mates. Not just one, but all of them.

“Maybe they want to be my friends too, do you think that's the case?”

“I'm sure it will be, the girls are going to love you.”

You take Hyein's hand and guide her through the crowd, ready to take her to the rest of the group. For the first time, Hyein isn't walking these halls alone. And she never will be again.

Now you're here.

“I'm sure I'm going to love you very much,” Hyein says, subtly leaning against your side as she walks. Her ears brush against your arm, and you feel the urge to caress them gently.

Woah, they are soft, you think as you do it. They have a vague smell of dog shampoo, like Danielle also has. Surely dog hybrids and fox hybrids, since they are similar, have the same care and use the same personal hygiene products.

Hyein brings your hand to her lips, leaving a little kiss. You smile.

“Yeah, I also think we will love each other a lot. Like a pack, huh?”

Like a pack, yes.

Hanni. Danielle. Minji. Haerin. And little Hyein.

A pack by fate.

[djarins-cyare]

✭ Series Masterlist ✭

Languishing in a dull and lonely existence on the forest moon of Endor after travelling there to help salvage Death Star wreckage, a nearly fatal encounter with a mysterious bounty hunter out in the forest heralds an opportunity to utilise long-forgotten skills and develop something more profound than you ever thought possible.

Second person POV, present tense. Set post-season 2, diverges from Canon events before TBoBF and season 3. This is a novel-length, exceptionally slow burn with an original plot, worldbuilding, and fully-developed characterisation. SWU concepts and lore are accurately researched.

WORDS: 406,560

PAIRING: Din Djarin x Female Reader/You

RATING: Explicit (18+)

CHARACTERS: Din Djarin, Reader/You/Female OC, Original Non-Human Character(s), Original Human Characters, Greef Karga, Cara Dune, Leia Organa, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Peli Motto

TAGS: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Romance, Love, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Smut, Sex, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Dark Past, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, Bounty Hunter Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Smart Din Djarin, Soft Dominant Din Djarin, Ewok Species, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language, New Razor Crest, Thoroughly Researched, Worldbuilding, No use of y/n.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This took me almost a year to write and four months to edit/proof. Each chapter is prefaced with specific tags and (where necessary) warnings, plus word counts. End notes contain translations and comments… this baby is thoroughly researched, so I’m sharing context where appropriate. I’ve also added definitions of in-universe terms so people less familiar with the franchise won’t be left wondering what the hell certain words or references mean. This is a slow burn (adult themes), and although the explicit content only occurs in the latter half, when it does, it warrants the ‘E’ rating. Basically, the first half is a love story, and the second half gets spicy. I hope you enjoy it!

READ THE COMPLETE STORY ON AO3:

(Chapters containing explicit content marked †)

Chapter 1: The Obstacle

Chapter 2: The Interrogation

Chapter 3: The Covenant

Chapter 4: The Snare

Chapter 5: The Strike

Chapter 6: The Groundwork

Chapter 7: The Genesis

Chapter 8: The Progression

Chapter 9: The Hide

Chapter 10: The Beast

Chapter 11: The Adjustment

Chapter 12: The Storm

Chapter 13: The Broadside

Chapter 14: The Intercourse

Chapter 15: The Village

Chapter 16: The Confession

Chapter 17: The Reprieve

Chapter 18: The Fortification

Chapter 19: The Ambush

Chapter 20: The Meridian

Chapter 21: The Homestretch

Chapter 22: The Union †

Chapter 23: The Overture

Chapter 24: The Crescendo

Chapter 25: The Harmony †

Chapter 26: The Cadence †

Chapter 27: The Ride †

Chapter 28: The Veneration †

Chapter 29: The Spree †

Chapter 30: The Tribute †

Chapter 31: The Courage

Chapter 32: The Feast

Chapter 33: The Exhibition †

Chapter 34: The Reward

Chapter 35: The Binding †

Chapter 36: The Synergy †

Chapter 37: The Match †

Chapter 38: The Flag †

Chapter 39: The Foundling †

Chapter 40: The Future †

✨Additional Media✨

@burntheedges has written a spectacular little drabble detailing what Din was up to during the paragraph break near the end of chapter 1 (*SPOILERS* you don’t find this out until chapter 27).

@roughdaysandart has sketched a fantastic study of chapter 33 and it’s absolutely perfect (*SPOILERS* cliffhanger ending for the chapter).

@djarin-desires has created some awesome AI images of a few scenes using Midjourney.

I spent a stupid amount of money on the Hot Toys official Din Djarin action figure, simply so I could photograph him in poses from my fic 🤷🏼‍♀️ This is just a taster of what’s to come, but here he is offering to help Reader climb onto the speeder in chapter 8.

🧡💚 Thank you for reading! 💚🧡

➤ MAIN MASTERLIST

Dividers by @samspenandsword

[boozye]

Ask me again.

Satan x Asexual reader (pronouns you/yours, no gender specified)

Comfort? IDEK

Established relationship

Word count: 971

Cover art by me (recycled)

Someone needs reassurance from societal pressure and expectations! (you, you fucking do ((me actually)))

Guess who spent 2 hours writing nonstop instead of sleeping? Here, have the fruits of my insomnia. Not proofread, didn't bother checking punctuation, good luck soldier.

________________________________

Oh it was one of those days, wasn't it? When your confidence wavered. You've been through this before. You knew what you needed. But would this be the last straw for him?

In vain you attempted to carry on as if nothing was amiss within you. But he noticed. Of course he noticed. He's arguably the most observant person there's ever been, of you at least. Yet so tactful about it.

You tried to hold his hand as usual. Let him touch you affectionately without tensing up. Be close to his face and his body without hesitation. But you couldn't really help it. And who knows how many other signs you weren't even aware of he had picked up already.

Was this more aggravating to him than if you just asked for what you needed? The thoughts swarmed your mind. Again. Again their buzz overtook reason. You had been doing so well too... So you just started preparing, mentally, for what you had to say.

Meanwhile, Satan was figuring things out at his own pace. Were you growing scared? Of him? Well he could see why. His temper still got the best of him sometimes. And he knew that what to him and other demons was just a mild grumpy spell, to a regular human could be rather violent or scary.

Yet whenever he talked about it, you reassured him that no, you weren't afraid of him. You held him so lovingly and told him. Told him that you knew he'd never hurt you or try to again.

His thoughts were interrupted by you, in the flesh, of all things. You sat by him in the library and looked him in the eyes. Your expression wasn't upset but he could see you were going to say something important.

"Can we walk back home? Whenever is okay. I'll just hang around here until you are done."

A calculated request, he deduced. But you were asking for him in a way. It was a relief. He sighed with a soft smile and answered:

"Sure, I couldn't focus on what I was reading much today anyways. Let's just go."

With that, you calmly picked up your bags and left the building.

Your walk started out casual enough. Barely anyone on the streets at this hour, something you both prefer. But Satan saw you were bracing yourself to say something.

"Satan," you sighed "do you remember what I said when we started dating?"

He blushed very faintly. "You said you were really happy and you hugged me so hard... And then you grabbed my face and kissed m-"

You gaped for a second in surprise before interrupting him. "Nooo, not that."

He looked back at you, expecting to hear what you meant. You cleared your throat and elaborated.

"When I asked if you were really okay with me being asexual?"

He looked back at you a little puzzled "I believe I said that I was perfectly fine with that?"

You nodded, "yes, well, right after that."

He aimed his gaze down trying to remember. The bliss of the moment might have made him dismiss anything he didn't immediately figure out.

In the meantime, outside his head, the words itched in your throat, you planned to just remind him, but this conversation was turning excruciating for you. Just as he remembered, your voice next to him echoed his memory:

"Can I ask again in the future?"

He looked at you with a mixture of realization and curiosity. You continued.

"You told me that I could, Satan. So..."

You took a few seconds to still your resolve.

"Are you okay with it?"

There it was, the prickle in his expression. You didn't want to see it. You knew this question could be bothersome. But you needed this.

"Y/N, of course I am! Did I overstep your boundaries in any way? Please tell me so I don't repeat it again. I apologize, I truly didn't mean to..."

He trails off. But you are already raising your hand and trying to wave his concern away. Ashamed, you reply.

"No, no Satan. Listen. I just needed to ask again. You didn't overstep or anything. I like touching you, and being touched by you as well."

He nods, but stays silent for you to continue.

"But, well... I just didn't want to raise your expectations with that sort of contact. It's happened before with other people and it hasn't ended well."

He sighs and rolls his eyes. "Humans are so fickle."

You look at him wideyed, clearly hurt.

"Wait, not you, I didn't mean you!" He drags his hand down his face "Sorry, sorry" before continuing, he gathers his thoughts, "what I mean is that that is not something you have to worry about with me."

"Was it wrong of me to ask?"

He looks forward, wideyed with full realization. Then he stops walking and faces you with his entire posture as you stop a couple steps after him. He puts a hand on your shoulder and solemnly says " Y/N, never feel bad for needing reassurance. It is not wrong. How many times have you reassured me? That you aren't afraid of me? I didn't realize at the time that was what your question meant. But yes, you can ask me again. As many times as you want. It won't only not bother me, I will tell you that I love you every time and mean it. I love you."

You put your hand on his, getting misty eyed. Before your tears take over, you lean forward and kiss him briefly. Then you part from his lips and hug him, squeezing as hard as you can. He hugs back, pats your head, then chuckles and leans back, lifting your feet from the floor briefly, making you chuckle as well.

[yunacoeur]

loser in love - kim taerae

a/n: i’ve been working on this for about a week now and it’s still shorter than i expected it to be. oh well, let me know if you like this! also who do i need to bribe at wakeone to give me jeonghyeon bc i miss him!!!! need him so bad

word count: 3.8k

zb1 | kim taerae, sunshine x grumpy au, angst, cute ending, communication issues trope, he fell first but she fell harder trope, college au, reader kinda sucks but they mean well <3

—

your professor assigns a two-person project in your philosophy class. it’s a paper on whether or not socrates was innocent or guilty of corrupting the youth.. or something like that. given you got a decent partner, it would take just a couple sessions at the library to get it done. you’re not even paying attention until someone walks up to you while you’re reading something on your phone. you look up to see a guy from your class you haven’t spoken to yet, though his reputation precedes him (yours must as well. he seems like he knows who you are). 

his name is taerae, you… think. he’s in the same friend group with sung hanbin and kim jiwoong, which already means he’s popular and well liked if he’s good enough to hang around with those kinds of guys. he’s always got this bright smile on his face, like a literal ray of sunshine walks through those doors every monday, wednesday, and friday. 

“hi,” he says to you, “i’m taerae. you’re my partner, right?” so you were right.

“yep,” you respond plainly. 

he awkwardly waits for you to maybe say something else, but when you don’t, he says, “are you available to meet at the library today? so we can get a headstart?”

yeah and did i mention he’s an amazing student? you couldn’t even imagine doing an assignment the day it was assigned, let alone actually do it, but it’s one less thing to worry about in three weeks and your future self will thank you.

“yeah, i can do 3,” you say and he smiles that bright smile that could make your heart flutter.

“alright, i’ll see you then!” he says, and then he’s off. 

you’re left right where you started, sitting at your desk, staring at your phone. you look over at the couple next to you, being way too excited that they got paired together. they’re doing way too much pda for a classroom and it reminds you, once again, that love is weird. not your style.

—

the first time you go to the library is 3 weeks before the due date.

“so which argument should we use? i think guilty would be more interesting to write about, but innocent is probably the easier side to defend.” he says, looking over at you after going over all his papers with that stupid smile again. it’s kind of annoying how immediately likable he is. 

“i don’t care. up to you,” you mumble, getting your laptop setup to write up your guys’ outline. 

he seems discouraged that you’re only responding to him shortly, but he refuses to give up, much to your dismay, “i want you to pick.” he says, small smile this time. his dimple is still visible, of course. 

“fine. we’ll argue that he’s innocent. what’s your email so i can share this doc with you?” you say, looking up at him, making brief eye contact. 

he’s silent for a second, just looking at you. 

and then suddenly it’s like his soul comes back into his body. “oh, sorry,” he says lamely, typing in his email on your keyboard and handing your laptop back you. he gets quiet for a second, and it makes the atmosphere weird and almost tense.

you feel the need to break it, “do you want to write the introduction and then first two arguments and i’ll write the third argument, the counter, and the conclusion?”

he smiles. you don’t even know why he would be smiling right now, but he has this look of fondness on his face, “sure. let’s work for an hour and then take a break. okay?” he says and you nod. 

you pretend not to notice the way he keeps looking at you, opening his mouth like he has something to say, and then giving up on that thought and going back to typing. 

—

“hi bestie,” you say as you walk up to taerae’s usual seat in the library. and there he is as always at this time. he doesn’t even know himself how he got you to show up here everyday (even if you barely did any work. you had finished your parts of the paper a week ago, but keep showing up to accompany him until he was done.) he can’t figure out why you keep showing up but he wont tell you to leave. 

“hey,” he says, not looking up from his laptop. 

“i got you something,” you tell him. he looks up, curious. 

you got him coffee when you got one for yourself, the exact thing he told you he liked last time.

it makes his heart skip a beat. maybe more than one.

—

“do you believe in ghosts?” he asks you as you type up a different assignment. the question catches you off guard, and you choose to stop your assignment and humor him for a second. 

“i guess so? why?” 

“why do you believe in ghosts?” he asks.

you laugh breathlessly, considering the true answer that you believe, “it just makes sense that they do. especially if their soul had unfinished business.”

“like what?”

“i dont know,” you shake your head, giggling at his persistence, “maybe they left someone they loved dearly behind, and they have to watch over them.”

loved… to love someone so dearly that you soul won’t rest until they find peace. your peace connected to theirs. how beautiful…

—

“do you ever feel like you’re missing out?” he asks, suddenly. a part of you almost already knows what he means. you were always more similar than you gave yourselves credit for.

“what do you mean?”

“i’ve never been in love. always so focused on music and my studies,” he admits, looking over at you, “am i missing out? it is nice to be in love?”

“well, unfortunately for you, you picked the one wrong person to ask,” you laugh at his defeated face, “ i’ve never been in love and i don’t really think i want to. it sounds lame. like i just wanna love my friends and myself. i don’t think romance is for me.” 

“yeah..? that sounds lonely,” he comments, but you shake your head.

“not lonely, just no one to break my heart.”

—

“if we keep going at this rate,” you say as you walk up to him and pull out your laptop, “we’ll probably only have to come to the library one more time. so this is what it’s like to be a good student.” you laugh to yourself as you sit down. he smiles faintly.

“yeah, for sure,” he says. almost looking down, like what you said upset him in some kind of way. it doesn’t make sense why. why would he want to keep working on philosophy assignments more than they have to?

— 

the supposedly ‘last’ time you go to the library is d-5 from the due date.

“do you really hate romance?” he asks, bringing up the topic again. he seems weirdly hung up on it.

“no, i never said i hated it. just not for me,” you sigh, “i’m not really a people person anyway. there’s no one i’d want to date even if i wanted to be romanced.”

ouch.

—

it’s d-day. a beautiful wednesday.

“hey!” taerae says, catching your attention as you get up to leave class. 

“what’s up?”

“can you meet after your classes today? would 3 work?” he asks, knowing full well you just submitted that paper with both your names on it. it was a+ material, what could be wrong about it?

“why? the project is over,” you say bluntly. he smile falters just a bit, but he catches himself and continues on.

“i… need your help to study,” he says, like he came up with it on the spot. 

‘you need… my help?’ you wanna say, but you don’t. you don’t call him out. 

“okay,” you say, “but i’m not staying long. just long enough to ‘help’ or whatever. see ya, tae.” you get up to go, but his hand stops you, grabbing your arm. 

“hey... uhm.. please come,” he says sincerely. something about this feels deeper than just ‘studying’. his eyes are showing how vulnerable he already feels. 

 “i will, taerae. i promise,” you say, “i'm honestly offended you think I'm gonna stand you up.”

he laughs with a bittersweet smile, “sorry!” as you walk off to your next class.

–

he’s sitting at one of those benches outside the library when you walk up to him. he doesn’t notice you at first, just playing on his phone. he looks so peaceful. 

and then he notices you, and smiles that signature smile, “hey! thank you for coming,” he says.

it’s just a tad bit confusing why he’s so hellbent on the idea that you wouldn’t want to come see him, or that it’s so important that you’re here. 

“i’m taking it that you don’t need help studying,” you smile back at him, and he shakes his head, “didn’t think so. you’re a star student.”

“i try my best,” he says, and you scoff at him. he barely tries. he’s just good at everything (except for math. but that’s math’s fault for being too complicated for him).

you shake your head at him, “okay, what did you wanna do?”

“i actually wanted to tell you something,” he starts. that smile of his fades when he gets anxious. he puts his hands in his pockets to hide how clammy they’re getting. you urge him to continue but he’s struggling to find the words, “i-i’m sorry, it’s hard to talk about.”

“it’s okay, tae, just breathe,”

he frowns, seemingly gaining the courage to say his thoughts, “i- i know this is- this is not what you want to hear because you’ve told me how you’re not romantically interested in anyone and you don’t want a relationship. you’re really clear about that and i respect that.”

he closes his eyes as he braces himself for how vulnerable he’s about to feel. he’s preparing to bare his heart out to you, when he knows you can’t care for it like he needs. 

“and i don’t want to make you feel pressured, but it feels wrong to hide it from you while i monopolize all your time,” he says, lowering his face to hide it from you. you can still see how red his ears are getting though, “i had to go and fall for the one person i couldn’t fall in love with.” he says it more to himself, like a criticism. ‘how could i do something so stupid, so self-destructive?’ he’s probably thinking, "I have feelings for you. i'm sorry."

“taerae…” you whisper, coming closer to try and comfort him, putting your hand on his arm. 

he shakes his head again, looking up with you with those darling eyes that make people fall for him left and right, “and it’s not fair to you, but it’s not fair to me either. you don’t want to be in love? that’s fine. but you can’t go and take my heart and write your initials on it like it belongs to you, and expect me to not feel it pounding in my chest for you. that’s…” it’s ironic that so many people probably have feelings for him and yet he’s here, baring his soul out to you, “cruel.”

his eyes, intentionally or not, are piercing into your soul in turn. it’s like he can see every last piece of your being, and it’s frightening to be that known by someone else. they’re pulling you in like a siren song, making you want to give it a chance, give him a chance. his eyes are doing every last thing to make you his, promising you to only ever be yours, to never hurt you, to always make you happy. 

maybe that’s why you left him there with nothing more than a squeeze to his hand and a “i’m so sorry,”. it was easier than looking into those beautiful eyes and tell him no. easier than watching his heart (with your initials on it) shatter.

—

and so you continue on with life. soulessly, you suppose, but every day keeps coming whether or not you want it to.

you keep checking your phone. it doesn’t even make sense why, because he’s probably too embarrassed and upset to text you. and he has every right to be upset at you right now. you left him when you got scared and haven’t even tried to say sorry, much less give him a proper response since that day. he has every right to be pissed at you.

and the shitty part is you know he’s not. because he’s taerae. because he was never mad at you. not when you bugged him when he tried to study. not when you barely worked during your library meetups. not when you were late and not when you were rude to him when you first had to start working together. 

he’s never been mad at you and you know every time you walk past him, he stops to look at you, hoping you’ll turn around, and the fact that you don’t is breaking him even more. all you know is that if he uses those puppy eyes on you one more time, all your resolve will crack. 

not falling in love was your main goal during college. years of being alone, part by choice and part by circumstance, made it so you felt you were better off by yourself. it’s hard to want other people when you’re not used to feeling wanted, and being in love just seems so scary.

were you in love with taerae? that was the real question, wasn’t it?

because he wasn’t that close of a friend. you had barely known he was more than an npc a few weeks ago, and you didn’t really know him that well. he was an enigma, a being you knew existed but nothing beyond his existence. and he wasn’t particularly charming. he was awkward. he was dorky. he didn't dress that well. he was really passionate about things and those things completely consumed him. he initially seemed like an anti romantic up until now, too focused on his passions and life to even think about love.

but every time he had said a dumb joke, you laughed. every time he tried to impress you with how cool he was, sure, it was kinda dorky, but you were impressed. and when he smiled at you, it felt like the world was okay in that instant. he gave you his jacket when he was cold once, he got your coffee before your study session once, and he cheered you on. 

maybe you did love him, but he must have given you no other option. nothing else you could do besides helplessly watching as he fundamentally changed who you were.

was it so bad to be in love with taerae? he’s beyond kind and has endless good will to give the world. and of course it was scary to be in love, but taerae wasn’t scary. he wouldn’t break your heart, he’d give you peace of mind and comfort. 

—

nothing sways you to talk to him quite like another person trying to flirt with him does. they’re attractive, a little mysterious, and intriguing from the get-go- if taerae’s crush on you was indicative of a type, they’d be his perfect match. 

they’re so clearly into him, you wonder if you looked like that when you hung out with him. maybe passerbys thought you were a couple before you were even friends. 

and he’s so clearly letting them flirt. he’s not making moves, but taerae doesn’t make moves like that. he wants to move slower than that. he doesn’t want to get into their pants, he wants them to romance him. he wants to feel courted. you’re not sure what you did to romance him, or how exactly your attitude made him feel courted. 

and it’s so hard to watch him be flirted with because you were the one who left him there. that could be you right now, but it’s not. taerae is letting someone else flirt with him and letting someone else tell him jokes and smiling that bright smile at someone else. that’s what really hurts. 

but you let them be while you jealously sip your coffee, talking to your friend sitting next to you.

“you need to talk to him,” they say, “you need to tell him about your feelings. even if you’re scared. he deserves honesty and you deserve to be happy.” 

and they’re right. you know they are. friends tend to be right about this kind of stuff.

and it takes all day to build up the courage. the second you think you could do it and make it out alive, you run over to his dorm room. it’s across campus, and you really could have just walked, but that means more time left alone with your thoughts, which is a big no no right now. 

—

it’s early in the evening, but even still you’re grateful that junhyeon took pity on you and took you to his dorm room that he shares with taerae. he left you guys alone to ‘talk’ he says with a smirk. if only you were sneaking in for something fun like that. and not to pour your heart out onto his floor and just hope that he’ll be okay with cleaning up the mess. 

“taerae!” you say as you burst into the room, locking the door as soon as junhyeon annoyingly shouts, “you're welcome!”. he looks up like a deer in headlights from his desk to see you tired, out of breath, holding the door against junhyeon until he gives up. he furrows his brows in confusion.

“what’s going on? are you okay?” he asks, "what's wrong? did someone say something?" he's got this look of protectiveness in his eyes. you wonder briefly if he thinks someone hurt your feelings and you came running to him for comfort. it's charming.

you shake your head, “i made a mistake and i came to fix it,” you say, that look in his eyes coming right back. like you’re back in that moment at the library. like it’s that fateful day again, with light wind in the forecast and pollen in the air. you remember nothing but how beautiful kim taerae looked and how painful it felt to run away. 

“i’m listening..” he says, trying to get you to continue, to say your side of everything, because you’re lost in thought and forgetting that he’s standing right in front of you.

you sigh, thinking maybe it’s best to back out, turning around to try the door. hopefully, junhyeon didn’t put a chair outside to keep you trapped so you could do 'things'. you almost commit to leaving, telling taerae you didn't have anything to say at all. it was easier than facing him. that’s when you see it. 

“what’s this?” you ask, pointing to the new bracelet in his pile of usual jewelry. 

“oh… my friend just got that for me, actually. i don’t think you’ve met that friend yet,” he says.

“was it the friend in the courtyard?” you ask, looking up at him. he can’t decipher the look in your eyes, but he nods. you’re half expecting a ‘how did you know i was in the courtyard?’ but you know he’s not going to pry like that. 

“taerae, i-” you start to say, and he looks up again, that hopeful look in his eyes. if you were a better person, you would have noticed how he looked at you the first time and never, ever let someone hurt him. even yourself. 

but you weren’t that person. you’ll learn to be that person now, though. his pretty smile depended on it. 

“i’m so sorry for leaving you there,” you say, getting right into it, “i’m sorry i never gave you a proper response to what you told me, and i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to gather my thoughts. i’m so sorry, i feel horrible for how you must have felt when i left after you said all of that.” 

“it’s okay,” he tells you. it’s not and you both know it, “you don’t have to feel the same about me. that was my fault for falling for you and coming on so strong about my feelings. you weren’t ready for it and i scared you. i was in the wrong.”

and it hurts to know he’s still going to apologize after all of this. he’s too kind and too pure of heart. 

the bracelet comes back to your mind. and you have no right to be jealous because that person did nothing wrong. they were honestly probably a good distraction for him while you were being a coward. but the bracelet, a marker of something of theirs being on his wrist. the thought left a disgusting feeling in your stomach. it was clear in that moment exactly how you felt. 

you come closer to him, suddenly emboldened by the jealousy of a gift another suitor got him and the fact that he was so wrong in his assumption of how he felt. he takes a step back when you get a little too close, like he’s nervous. not scared, but timid about what’s going on. his breath hitches when you look down at his lips like you could devour him. you were so obvious. 

“taerae,” you say, and one last time, he looks up at you with doe eyes, “i thought i didn’t have feelings for you. and then i watched myself break your heart. i knew right there and then that these emotions couldn’t have been caused by anything other than me having feelings for you. i didn’t want to admit it, to you or myself, but…” you trail off, forgetting the last words of your sentence when his eyes find your lips, like he wants to have you now, finally knowing there’s shared emotions there, “i thought i didn’t feel anything romantic for people at all, like i was soulless, and you proved me wrong.” 

“...why did you run?”

“i was scared. i’ve always been afraid to fall in love. i kept thinking, ‘what if he broke my heart?’. i realized how dumb it sounded because… it’s just so unlike you,” you smile at him, seeing all the innocence and kindness in his eyes, and wonder how you ever could have felt scared to fall for him, “and i saw them flirt with you. i told myself i couldn’t be jealous, but it’s hard to not be. i wanted you first, kim taerae. i know it’s not up to me, but they couldn’t have you. i couldn’t let that happen.”

“...come take me then,” he says, still staring at your lips. he really won’t make the first move, will he? you smile to yourself as you step closer, pressing your lips to his briefly, pulling away, and then again, just… not so briefly this time. he pulls away first because lord knows you couldn’t have, “so what happened to ‘i never wanna fall in love’?”

“i didn’t want this initially, you know. falling for you was never a choice,” you say. he laughs with all his chest.

“such an anti-romantic. glad i could turn you,” he smiles, “i’m just happy, in all your hatred of romance and pickiness for people, you picked this loser.”

oh taerae, you’re not a loser. you’re just in love.

[sometimes-love-is-enough]

Every time you talk about giving yourself writing challenges, I think about how it would be fun to have a 'handicap bingo'- where you get a random writing 'handicap' like not being able to say any character's name, and have to write a full story with it. Idk. I think it would be fun

Min's Writing Challenge

Rules: Roll a d20, accept your fate, write a fic of your choosing and follow your fate to the letter. (Creative workarounds encouraged.)

Roll twice; you have to use both. If you roll another 1, the extra challenges compound accordingly.

Pick a single letter, A-Z. You're not allowed to use it for the entire fic. (Bonus challenge: E.)

Every sentence must be under ten words long. (Bonus challenge: five words.)

Pick a poetry/lyric style (sonnet, terza rima, ballad, etc). The whole fic must be written in that form. (Bonus challenge: keep it still obviously a normal fic, with appropriate tropes and narrative conventions.)

You must write in future tense.

You must write in first-person POV.

You must write in second-person POV.

Take your least favorite fanon concept/trope, and make it into something you want to write. (Bonus challenge: play the trope entirely straight - no subversions! - and make it enjoyable anyway.)

No character names allowed. (Bonus challenge: no dialogue tags either; you can't use descriptive phrases like 'the man in the prince costume' to work around it.)

No dialogue allowed. (Bonus challenge: no internal monologues allowed, either.)

Dialogue only - playscripts encouraged.

Epistolary fic - only letters, emails, notes, etc.

Write an AU, but the alternative universe is a profession!AU that you know nothing about. (Bonus challenge: no research allowed.)

Unreliable narrator. (Bonus challenge: the narrator is good at being unreliable, to the point that they might legitimately fool a reader.)

Whatever fic concept you have, you can only write the very ending of it. (Bonus challenge: you aren't allowed to use any exposition to explain how you got to that point.)

Write any AU of your choosing, but you must choose at least one major canonverse event/plot point and adapt it accordingly to your setting of choice. (Bonus challenge: Make the canonverse event and AU of choice absurdly incompatible.)

Must start in medias res, with a 'yep, that's me. Bet you're wondering how I got into this situation!' moment. (Bonus challenge: Don't plan what the in medias res situation is before you write it. Force yourself to resolve whatever bullshit you come up with on the spot. I've definitely never done this in my life, ever.)

You must write in outsider OC POV - no canon characters allowed. (Bonus challenge: No Sanders Shorts/related characters allowed.)

Pick a fairy tale, fable, or myth. The fic must be a retelling or reinterpretation of it. (Bonus challenge: you aren't allowed to reread or reference any version of it while you're writing - from memory only!)

Dealer's choice - pick from any of the above.

Good luck.

[lostdreamr-blog1]

Nightmare of a Roommate Part 2

Pairings: Jake Seresin x Reader

Word count: 2k

Summary: When you are forced to share an apartment with the notorious Bagman, life seems to be harder than it should be. But what difference does a few weeks together make?

Warnings: Fluff ahead, mild swearing

A/N: Part 2 is here!! I wasn’t even thinking about writing a part 2 until you all asked for one! And it made me so excited to extend this one for you. Thank you so much for all the love you showed me with this piece! I hope you all love this one as much as the first!!

Part 1

You had skillfully crafted yourself a false sense of security while rooming with Jake. Every night, good or bad, you would find yourself wrapped in his arms with nothing but comfort surrounding you. The future wasn’t anything you bothered to think about or that this was eventually going to come to an end. Only that you were safe with him and that was good enough for you.

At work, the two of you slipped into a “friend” role which confused the team. Just weeks ago, you were contemplating murder and recruiting Natasha to help hide the body. So, seeing the two of you laughing together and not at the other person, had the team knowing something had changed. As much as they poked and prodded about what happened behind closed doors, neither of you gave in. But the funny thing was, saying “nothing is going on” or “we are just friends” wasn’t a lie. Neither of you had wanted to bring up the change in chemistry between you. It was a mutual understanding that you needed help and he was willing to be whatever you needed.

But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.

Before you knew it, the apartment was packed up and you had both received your new orders. Not being stationed together was something you knew would happen but being sent to opposite sides of the world stung a bit. You didn’t think leaving him would be this hard.

It was the morning you were both set to be leaving and not a single word had been exchanged. You knew the second you opened your mouth you would start a downward spiral of unwanted emotions. Jake had seemed to pick up on the cold shoulder and kept his distance until the time left between you had dwindled down to mere minutes.

“Sweetheart, we need to talk about this.” Your eyes glanced over to him, but you focused your attention back on the cup of coffee in front of you.

“There is nothing to talk about.” You knew pushing him away wasn’t going to work, but you had to at least try. It was always easier to run away from your feelings than admit them.

He let out a short chuckle, “That’s a bunch of shit and you know it.” He rested his arms on the counter in front of you, willing you to look up at him. He watched as your shoulders tensed and your mind seeming to run a mile a minute.

“You said that night you wouldn’t bring it up. That I could let you in because you didn’t know me.” Your words were almost a whisper, but he heard them loud and clear.

“Is that what you want? To pretend like none of this ever happened?” He was trying to keep his voice light, but you could hear the hurt in it. That is what caused you to finally look up at him.

You shook your head, more at yourself than him. “No, God no. But saying yes would be so much easier.” Your eyes stayed on him as he walked around to your side of the counter, eventually standing in front of you, blocking you from being able to move.

This was another first. The affection you showed each other had only happened when the sun was gone for the day. There was something secretive about being close to one another when the door was closed, and the blankets were up. We allowed ourselves to be free and vulnerable when the only light in the room was the reflection of the moon through the window.

But now, being sat nearly between his legs and face inches from yours, you felt more exposed now than you ever did those countless nights before.

He brushed a stay hair from your face and gave you a soft smile. “Never in my life did I think I would find myself in this position.” He paused for a moment and then asked, “What do you want to do?”

It was a loaded question no matter which way you looked at it. You wanted nothing more than to wake up every morning next to him, knowing that he was only an arm’s length away. This man proved to be nothing but kind and compassionate even though others would say you were wrong. But knowing that the two of you would be separated for who knows how long, you knew what you had to do.

“I can’t ask you to wait for me. Hell, I don’t even know what the two of us are right now. But with something as new as this, I can’t expect you hold out for me.” The response you got was a soft kiss to your head and a smile you almost considered sad.

It was the last interaction the two of you had before you walked out the door.

A few months went by, and you wish you could say things were going well. You had just finished up one assignment and were leaving to head to the next, stopping by TopGun on your way between.

Sleep had been this nonexistent thing ever since you found yourself alone in bed. The amount of caffeine you consumed on a daily basis made you wonder how you hadn’t had a heart attack yet. But it was the only way you could manage to stay awake during the day.

The bags under your eyes were covered heavily by makeup and the new tremors in your hands were something you learned to hide in front of others. It was clear as day that you were slowly spiraling, but there was nothing you could do about it at the moment.

Finding yourself sitting at the bar of the Hard Deck, Penny slides you a drink and gave you a warm smile.

“Been a while since I’ve seen you around here. How have you been?” You gratefully grab the drink from her and take a small sip of the burning liquor.

“Just passing through before my next assignment. Things been okay here?” She gives you a head nod and glances over ot the door.

“Things around here are always interesting. Give me a shout if you need something.” She walked away to the other side of the bar leaving you confused at the interaction.

That was until a southern voice next to you said, “Well I’ll be. Y/N, as I live and breathe.”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the voice, and you saw the man you considered home standing next to you.

“Jake.” His name came out more of a whisper than anything, but he didn’t miss the desperation that laced it. His eyes looked you up and down, making sure you were still in one piece, but paused when he saw your hands trembling.

“What do you say we get out of here and catch up?” He had a smirk on his face, but you saw the concern in his eyes. The two of you started out as strangers not too long ago, but very quickly did he come to memorize every detail about you. You were now an open book to him and there was no more hiding how you were doing.

There was nothing else to do but let him lead you out of the bar to his truck. Part of you wanted to protest that your car was here, but it would’ve fallen on deaf ears. The two of you didn’t say a word as he started the truck up and drove out of the lot.

He drove for a few miles before turning off the road and onto the beach. It was a secluded spot that you would normally find romantic, but you were filled with nerves as his truck came to a stop. He got out of the truck and you follow suit, not exactly knowing what to expect when the two of you sat down on his tailgate.

“How did you know I was there?” You looked out at the small waves breaking on the shore.

“Penny texted me. Knew I was in town after stopping by yesterday. Said you looked like you needed a friend.”

You almost scoffed at the word “friend”. You had no idea what you and Jake were, but “friends” didn’t seem to fit the picture.

“What’s going on, darlin’?” You could feel his gaze on you but turning to look at him just screamed that it was a bad idea.

And because of that, you missed the way his eyebrows were drawn together with concern. Or how he noticed you were wearing more makeup than usual. That the trembling in your hands only seemed to worsen and worry started to build up within him.

“Please talk to me.” You closed your eyes at his plea and took a deep breath in.

“Walking away from you was the thing that broke me. I know it was neither of our fault with our jobs, but damn Jake, I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you weren’t there.” At that, you looked over at him and saw him studying you. The next words made your breath hitch.

“Marry me.”

Silence filled the air as you processed what he just said.

“I’m sorry. What?” He was sitting there with this look of determination, and you still couldn’t believe what just came out of his mouth.

“You just said we can’t be together because of our job. Well, the Navy can’t spilt us up if they knew we were married.”

You had to laugh in disbelief of what he was saying. “We haven’t even gone out on a single date. I’m confused on how you think legally binding us together is going to solve anything.”

He leaned toward you and asked, “Have you been with any other guys since we roomed together?” You rolled your eyes and shook your head, no.

“Have you felt as safe with anyone else as you did me?” Again, you shook your head.

“That day you walked out the door, you said you didn’t want me to wait for you. Well darlin’, I hate to tell you this, but you’ve been on my mind every day since we left TopGun. If things were different and we were stationed together, would you have stayed with me?” You had to nod your head at this question. By the end of that deployment, he was your home. He was the only person in the world who could make you feel as safe as you did.

He was also the reason why you had been struggling to keep your head above water recently.

“When you look at the future, who do you see next to you?” You looked down at your hands and shook your head.

“Eyes on me, sweetheart.” His hand lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

“You, Jake. I see you.” His face broke out into a smile and leaned in to kiss you. It was a soft, but meaningful kiss. One that reassured you that you weren’t crazy for saying yes to this man.

He pulled away and asked the question again. “Marry me?”

Tears pooled in your eyes and fell onto your cheeks as you nodded your head.

Who knew the roommate from hell would turn into the best thing that had ever happened to you?

A/N: Thank you all so much for all the love and support I got with this mini-series!! It truly means so much to me! -C

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