#any time I'm not included in something I feel like I'm starting to disappear

[sneaky-story]

>is only free some weekends and has to travel a lot for it

>carefully plans to see my friends because it's my only occasions

>they get sick and can't come

[messylustt]

౨ৎ ‧˚

𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨 (𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥) — 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬

miguel o’hara x fem!reader. 1.3k words

fic masterlist pt one next part

i’ve gotten some help with my spanish and have approved/fixed accordingly (if you have any suggestions on the spanish please speak up!); enemies to lovers trope; not obvious, but subtle jealous miguel; human(not spider-person)!reader; spanish term of endearment ‘chaparrita’ — miguel o’hara has never liked you—a human—joining the team as the ‘person in the chair’. he’s made his distaste for you clear. but when he speaks certain spanish words you don’t understand, he reveals that his annoyance of you is by the fact that you make him feel ‘hot’. soon, a deal surfaces, his promotion benefitting you both.

Miguel watches as you fiddled with the different tech machines, tapping with a focused gaze. He tilted his head, staying by the large spider, having spread out screens filled with the many mission's info.

He had a slight scowl on his face, his expression usually one considered moody. But this time he had a reason for it. You.

You were a pain to Miguel, far too nice to every spider-person. He hadn't liked having you here the moment a few of them recommended you. They described you as the 'person in the chair'. You were smart, sure, but Miguel didn't think you belonged here. You weren't a spider-person like the rest of them, you were human.

He jumped down, landing beside you. You look to your left, having to tilt your head up at his sheer height. You gulp. You've always been nervous around Miguel O'hara. You didn't think he once smiled, his gaze only seeming to harden, especially when you would speak.

So, you kept it minimal. Only talking to him when it was required. "O'hara." You nod, turning quickly back to your work. "Anything I can help you with?"

"Nothing you can help with, y/l/n." His small jab at your inability in many areas, such as swinging from buildings with web, made you straighten your spine.

You ignore his tone, again not daring to meet his gaze. "Then, I'm sure Jessica will be here soon to help with anything."

Miguel's eyes wander your stiff posture. He could tell that he made you nervous, and part of him relished in that. It helped him think that you knew your place.

When you noticed that he wasn't leaving, you go to say something else, when Hobie and Peter burst into the room. Both yours and Miguel's attentions shift. Hobie easily moves towards you, making you smile. He reached his hand out as you did what many would call a typical 'bro handshake'. But Hobie instead chose to call something far from normality, in his prominent british accent.

Hobie was one of the ones who recommended you for this job. And you've been beyond grateful since.

"How's ya bloody borin’ shit goin’?" Hobie asks, leaning down to see whatever nonsense you had typed up.

"Describe 'boring shit'." You say, your tone turning smug.

He scoffs, eyeing the screen again, before giving up and grabbing your chin to turn back to the tech. "Keep working."

You chuckle, just as Miguel speaks. "Aren't you supposed to be out?"

Hobie looks to Miguel, straightening his guitar strap. "What—should I start callin’ ya boss, and kissin’ ya boots?"

Hobie has always been one to 'do his own thing' and completely bypass the rules. Miguel looks unimpressed, as Hobie holds his hands up in fake innocence. Peter chimes in. "He doesn't wear boots."

Hobie glances at him. "Thanks Peter. I didn't know."

Peter doesn't have time to respond before he's running after his swinging daughter. "Just get back to work." Miguel says. "That includes you, Peter. And didn't I say not bring her here?" He sounds exasperated, as he pinches the bridge between his nose.

You spin in your seat watching as Peter sends back a 'sorry', as he disappears, running through the large exit door. Hobie is quick to follow sending you a nod and a smile.

You wave them off, feeling the tension flood back into the room now that it's just you and Miguel again. You swiftly spin back in your chair, your fingers going back to tapping, as your legs spread comfortably.

Miguel looks back at you, before running his hand down his face, muttering. "No abras las piernas como una invitación." (Don't open your legs like an invitation.)

You pause, glancing at him. "What was that?"

He glances back at you, eyeing your confused expression. You, of course, didn't know spanish.

He places his hands against the desk, leaning a fraction closer to you, his gaze fluttering across your features. "Podría decirte cualquier cosa en español y no sabrías lo que quiero decir." (I could say anything to you in Spanish and you wouldn't know what I mean.)

"You know I don't know spanish." You mutter.

"I know. And the thought of you being so unaware, makes me want to tell you..." He leans closer to your ear, making your pulse beat rapidly. "....cuanto me haces arder, cariño. (how much you make me burn inside.) And it’s beyond annoying.”

You sigh, pushing slightly away from him. "Look, I know you find me annoying." You begin. "That's fine. But just...can you at least give me somewhat of a chance?"

"Do to what?" He asks, crossing his arms, as he leans back against the desk.

"To prove I'm helpful."

"Helpful?" Miguel asks, tilting his head. "You want to be helpful?"

"Of course."

"Then find a more suitable job." He stands to walk away.

"If you want me gone, then why don't you fire me?"

He pauses for a moment. "Sadly, I need a proper reason for that. So, if you want to be helpful to me. Then fuck something up."

"But while you're here being useless you should probably learn spanish." Miguel says as he walks out the door.

You huff, staring after him, watching as his back muscles contracted in a way that made you look away, gulping. Fucking Miguel O'hara.

;;

You sit, feet up by the tech, as you tapped away on your phone. You got a congratulatory 'ding' whenever you got a word or sentence right, and a rather loud 'booing' sound when you got a word or sentence wrong.

Yes, you're trying to learn Spanish. You sadly hadn't remembered word for word what Miguel had said to you, so you couldn't put it through translation. He must have purposefully spoken fast so you wouldn't have time to catch each word and remember.

'Me gusta ir al museo.' Your phone spoke. It translated to 'I like going to the museum' You had gotten it wrong, putting ‘park’ instead.

You groan, your head knocking back as your eyes shut in annoyance. You were only smart in certain areas. You let your phone drop to the desk, as you stretch, keeping your eyes shut tight, as if you could find the Spanish language hidden behind them.

"Spanish?" A deep voice spoke, making you jump, swiftly getting to your feet and spinning.

Miguel stands in his signature spider suit, your phone in his grasp. "I didn't think you'd actually listen to me."

You snatch it back, switching it off, as you scratch the back of your neck. "I was just..." You drift off sighing. "I like this job."

Miguel watches you closely. "You're committed, I'll give you that."

You smile, the word 'progress' swirling in your brain. "I learnt a sentence." You say, brows creasing in remembrance. "Me gusta...ir al...musio?" (I like going...to the...musio?) You say this more so as a question as you meet the amused gaze of Miguel.

"Ir al museo." (To the museum) He corrects, knowing the generic 'hobbies' sentences most kids learn.

"…I was close." You say, smiling, before you realise who you're talking to, your nerves returning.

Miguel nearly kicked himself for feeling warm at the small smile that you gave. You were trying to learn spanish—loosely—for him. "Can I make you a deal?" He suddenly asks.

You narrow your eyes a fraction. "What kinda deal?"

"One where we can help each other." He mutters, stepping closer. "You want to stay, correct?"

You nod.

"Then you're gonna have to convince me that you'd do anything for a mission."

You straighten, eyes widening at the chance to prove your worth. "I lead most missions, so loosely, you'd have to do anything for me."

He's much, much closer, eyeing you. "But we can make this a ‘give and take’. Let me teach you Spanish—something you'll need working here, close by me, and in return for every lesson, you have to do something for me."

You eye him. "Like what?"

"Anything." He answers. "Because you'll have to do anything that's required for those missions. Call it practice, or proving your worth, chaparrita."

You lick your lips thinking. You can't see anything inherently wrong with this 'deal', so you nod. And that earns you the very first smile you've seen from Miguel O’hara.

i know this is short, but I just wanted to see if any of you guys would be interested in a full fic like this…

also if you would like to be in a taglist for this story — just comment

[faithisyours]

Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

[burnthatbridge]

if you love him let him go (if you love him let him know) 

pre-buddie, bucktommy | T | 3k | angst, pining tommy needs to tell eddie something not on ao3 atm because i can't figure out if this is done or if i'm continuing it - please let me know your thoughts! now on ao3 because i hate not having all my fic in one place

“Can I get you another beer, man?”

Eddie checks his watch. It’s only a little after nine thirty. He’s kind of hoping to get home before Chris goes to sleep, but he’ll not be heading to bed any time soon, will likely stay up later than Eddie. Friday night means he disregards his supposed bedtime — not that he sticks to it that well on school nights, now he’s sixteen. “Sure, thanks.”

Tommy nods, disappears into the kitchen, returns a moment later with a can of IPA in one hand, a bottle of lager in the other. They’ve already finished the six-pack Eddie brought over, but trust Buck — well, Buck and Tommy — to have Eddie’s favorite beer in their fridge. Tommy hands over the can, already cracked open, and Eddie takes a sip as Tommy settles down at the opposite end of the couch. He doesn’t turn to face the TV, sits twisted towards Eddie instead, but he does pick up the remote and turn down the volume, the post-fight commentary rendered nearly unintelligible. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Eddie twists towards Tommy himself, something not-quite-anxious-but-almost flaring in his chest. Over the years they have been friends, he and Tommy have spoken about lots of things, including those not so easy to discuss: their respective experiences in the army, Tommy’s tough childhood, Eddie’s difficult parents, the hard aspects of the job. But they’ve all been topics that have come up naturally, raised organically. Tommy has never led into anything with such a pointed opener before.

Eddie studies him. He has one knee pulled up on the couch cushion, foot poking out off the end, the other foot planted on the floor, nearly parallel to the base of the couch. One arm is up on the backrest, the other relaxed, beer bottle in that hand, resting on his thigh, dripping condensation painting a charcoal ring on his — probably Buck’s, in fact, given how tight the fabric is stretched over the muscle of his leg — grey sweats. He’s not tense, but he’s not smiling, and there’s something about his expression that Eddie can’t place. It’s not that he hasn’t seen this look before, because he’s pretty sure he has, witnessed it in flickers across numerous occasions over the years, there and then gone, present for but a heartbeat. But he’d never known what it meant any of those times and he certainly doesn’t now.

“'Course,” Eddie says, when Tommy doesn’t go on, seems to be waiting for some kind of sign. Then adds, feeling like it’s necessary given the gravity he can feel pulling this lightsome evening down to something more serious.  “Anything.”

Tommy sighs, bites his lip like he doesn’t want to speak, even though he’s the one who said he wanted to talk, then shakes his head and takes a pull of his beer.

“Is everything okay?” Eddie’s starting to feel worried now. He mentally scans back over the past few weeks, trying to remember if Tommy has mentioned anything about work that could be a problem. He saw him at basketball last week, and nothing had seemed off. Plus, Buck hasn’t said anything. Not that he’d necessarily tell Eddie about an issue Tommy was having, not if Tommy wanted it kept private, but Eddie can usually tell when Buck’s concerned about someone, and he hasn’t picked up on anything, not at all. 

But maybe this isn’t about a problem Tommy is having. Maybe this is a Buck problem, something Buck has kept from Eddie. It would make sense why Tommy would bring it up with him; sometimes a concerted, multi-person effort is the only way to get through to Buck. And Tommy’s more likely to bring in Eddie first, and then expand the team to include Maddie, Chim, more, as needed. 

“Is Buck okay?” Eddie asks, something like panic constricting his throat, making the words come out a little strangled. 

Tommy actually laughs at that, a small, choked thing, an exhale of sound and air. He shakes his head again, but not a no. More like an extension of the laugh, a motion to accompany it, to better convey the disbelief — not humor — contained in it. “He’s fine.”

It’s a relief to hear. Buck had seemed physically okay, when Eddie had seen him briefly before he left the house, since he’d maybe purposefully waited to order his Uber until Buck pulled up in his jeep outside, despite Christopher’s insistence he didn’t need to wait for Buck to arrive, despite the fact that his kid is more than old enough to be left in the house alone for the twenty minutes it would have taken Buck to drive over, while Eddie was ferried the opposite way. But there could still have been something, Buck could have been fighting through pain, much better at hiding any hurt of his body than he is at masking his emotional distress. 

“But,” Tommy says, and that one word is enough to have Eddie’s muscles tightening once more, “It is Evan I wanted to talk about.”

Again, Tommy doesn’t follow it up with anything. Eddie has found, in their time as friends, that Tommy is not often a man lost for words. Quite the opposite, in fact. He usually says what he means, means what he says, and is an expert at listening and delivering sage advice. This reticence– it doesn’t feel like it bodes well, has the hair on the back of Eddie’s neck prickling.

“Alright,” Eddie says, a feeble prompt. “So, Buck?”

Tommy nods, like he’s gearing himself up for something, to face a challenge, to take a punch. Eddie is expecting something bad, so the words he says catch him even more off guard than they would have. “I want to ask Evan to marry me.”

Maybe if Tommy had seemed eager, excited, when he turned to him, Eddie could have anticipated the blow, could have felt a creeping suspicion this is where Tommy was headed, could have been provided with enough of a heads-up to brace himself. As it is, he doesn’t see the hit coming, takes it full force to the chest, so hard it steals his breath, knocks the wind from him. His mouth goes slack, and he feels his fingers slide against the slippery sides of his beer can, almost spills it over Tommy and Buck’s lounge carpet before he gets a hold on it, on himself. He forces himself to smile. “That’s– that’s great,” he makes himself say, only faintly aware that Tommy isn’t smiling back, like this moment should call for. “Did you–” he swallows around the bile climbing his esophagus, “Do you want help planning the proposal?” He wishes he could take the words back the second they’re out. Because this — just hearing that Tommy wants to ask Buck — is torture enough. To be involved with it, to help enable it, Eddie will be lucky if it doesn’t kill him. Maybe not his body, but certainly his soul. 

“No.” Tommy shakes his head. “No, I want to ask him to marry me. But I’m not going to. At least, not now.”

Eddie squints at him. The news that Tommy wants to marry Buck might hurt Eddie, but it’s not exactly surprising. Eddie’s seen how much Tommy cares for him in the years they’ve been together, has seen the way he looks at him, the way they look at each other. Has felt the way it burns him, the scorching heat of flame, the searing cold of ice. He doesn’t understand what Tommy is saying, doesn’t understand why this proclamation seems not to be a happy one. “Why not?” Eddie asks, almost grateful for the opportunity to present confusion, curiosity, rather than forced pleasure at the thought of one of his closest friends and his– best friend marrying each other. “You guys are serious. I mean, you live together.”

Tommy huffs another laugh, still more disbelief than humor, really the opposite of humor. “His lease was up.”

“Right. But he chose not to renew it. He chose to move in with you,” Eddie says, slow, struggling to understand, the pounding of his pulse not helping him think clearly, see through the puzzle that is everything Tommy has said so far and the way he has said it. 

“He was never going to renew it,” Tommy tells him.

And that’s– that’s something Eddie didn’t know. He hates it when he learns information about Buck from Tommy, always has, even though he fights with everything in him not to feel like that. Tommy is Buck’s boyfriend, of course he’s going to know things about him that Eddie doesn’t, know him in a way that Eddie doesn’t. 

“We hadn’t spoken about living together,” Tommy says, eyes on Eddie. “But he’d said he thought the loft was too expensive and he was spending nearly every night at mine by that point. When he wasn’t on shift. Or at yours.” Eddie pulls his eyes away, takes a sip from his beer for something to do, even though the bitter taste is turning his stomach. “He said he wasn’t going to renew it, that he’d look for somewhere new, cheaper. But this was too close to the end of his lease to find a place before he had to move out. I asked where he was going to stay in the meantime.”

“And he said with you,” Eddie guesses, more a statement than a question.

But Tommy shakes his head. A smile curls his lips but his eyes– his eyes don’t match. “He said he’d crash on your couch, actually.”

Eddie takes another mouthful of beer, holds it there, on the back of his tongue. He didn’t know any of this. Buck would, of course, have been more than welcome. Likely why he hadn’t asked in advance, why he planned for it without seeking permission. 

“I said he could stay with me, instead. That he’d be able to sleep in a bed here.” Eddie swallows, the beer somehow thick and cloying in a way that it shouldn’t be. “And then when he started making noises about looking for a new place, I told him he should stay.”

While it’s not how Eddie had, unwillingly, pictured it in his head — Tommy and Buck mutually agreeing that Buck shouldn’t renew his lease, deciding they wanted to live together — it still doesn’t explain what Tommy has said. “And he did stay,” Eddie says. “So, why aren’t– Does Buck not want to get married?” But that can’t be it, that can’t be right. Eddie is certain Buck does want to be married, only he’d tried hard not to think of Buck wanting that with Tommy, with anyone. Anyone else. 

“No, he does,” Tommy confirms it. He leans over and deposits his beer on the coffee table. Then sits back, still turned to Eddie, but arms crossed over his chest, like a protection of himself. “We’ve spoken about it, discussed it. And he’s told me he’s always wanted that, to get married, to be part of a family.” Tommy pops one hand out of the fold of his arms to hold it up, out, quelling, like Eddie has protested. He hasn’t, but his heart is doing something approximating a riot at the idea of Tommy being Buck’s family. “And I know he has a family. He knows he does. In you and Chris, in Maddie and Jee, in the 118. But–” Tommy breaks off, tips his head to the side, gaze boring into Eddie’s face so strong that Eddie wishes he could turn away, duck and run. “You know how much he’s always wanted to belong somewhere.”

He does, Eddie thinks, the thought almost violent in its intensity. He belongs with me. Except, he doesn’t. Not really, not how Eddie wants, not the way he does with Tommy.

“And I want that for him,” Tommy goes on, tucking his hand back in, squeezing his arms tighter about himself. Eddie’s never seen him like this, hunched in on himself, curled small. Tommy is usually so open, larger than life. “I want to be the one to give that to him.”

Eddie wants to be the one to give that to him. Desires it desperately, a secret need he’s tucked as far inside himself as he can. He can feel it now, raging to be let out, to be set free. But he can’t, he won’t. Buck is with Tommy, he’s happy with Tommy. Tommy who is so warm and kind and good, Tommy who is better than Eddie in every conceivable way, who brings so much to Buck’s life, who gives all of himself to Buck. Who wants to give him even more. Wants to, but apparently won’t.

Eddie doesn’t understand. “Then, if you want to, why won’t you ask him?” he questions, trying to. 

“If I ask him now, he’ll say no.” Tommy states it like indisputable fact, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world that Buck would refuse him. 

Eddie shakes his head, understanding even less. “But he loves you.”

Tommy smiles again, then, larger than he had before, but as devoid of happiness, as empty of cheer. This smile hurts to see, reflects the way Eddie felt inside when Tommy had said I want to ask Evan to marry me. “I know he does.” Tommy’s tone is sure, but wistful. “But he loves you more.”

It’s like– It’s like nothing Eddie has ever felt. Or maybe it’s like everything he’s ever felt. The shock of a residual lightning bolt, the joy of being a part of the 118, the pain of a bullet ripping through his shoulder, the awe of holding his son for the first time. Eddie wants Tommy’s words to be true maybe more than he’s ever wanted anything. But he also cannot believe them, has no trust that they are true. Because they can’t be. Buck loves Tommy. Not Eddie. 

“We’re friends. Best friends,” Eddie points out. “Of course, he– he loves me. But not more. Not like he loves you. He’s in love with you.”

Tommy sighs, arms uncrossing, palms coming to rest on his thighs, body taking on a posture Eddie is familiar with, the one he falls into when he’s talking someone through something, the one he adopted when Eddie came out to him some six months ago. “Eddie, he’s in love with you.”

Eddie shakes his head. It’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear, but coming from the wrong lips. Spoken by not by Buck himself but by Buck’s boyfriend, oh god. “He isn’t. Tommy, he can’t be.” 

But Tommy is nodding, nodding like what he’s said is true, like he wants Eddie to believe it. 

“He’s not,” Eddie says, hears the denial, the disbelief spill from him. Buck doesn’t love him. He doesn’t. But Eddie– Eddie loves– “I’m sorry,” Eddie says, almost a gasp. “Tommy, I’m sorry, I–”

“It’s not your fault,” Tommy cuts him off. “I knew what I was getting into. When I started seeing Evan, I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. I just–” Tommy sighs again, scrubs his palms along his thighs. “I didn’t expect it to get this far. I thought we’d just be a fun, easy thing. Something to ease Evan into his sexuality, that new part of himself. I didn’t expect it to go like this. I didn’t expect to feel like this.” Tommy closes his eyes, lashes falling to his cheeks. He breaths in and out, while Eddie’s own breath is caught in his chest. When Tommy opens his eyes, he says, “But I don’t have to tell you how easy it is to love him.”

Fuck. Tommy knows. Because Eddie does. He loves Buck, loves him so endlessly he doesn’t know where the feeling starts and where it ends. Doesn’t know when it started; doesn’t think it will ever end. “I’m sorry,” Eddie whispers, needing to say the words again, needing Tommy — his friend — to hear them. 

Tommy lifts one palm from his thigh, his wrist pressing into the muscle as he cuts his fingers to the side in a dismissal. “Don’t apologize for it. I’m certainly not going to. I’m never going to be sorry for loving him.” He drops his hand back down, pats his leg, emphasis of the point. “But it is a problem.” He smiles, rueful. “I thought I’d be able to break up with him, if he didn’t break up with me. I should have, ages ago. I certainly should have when you came out.” 

Eddie, selfishly, had hoped Buck would break up with Tommy then. But it had seemed like a farfetched fantasy. He had told Buck he was queer after Buck had already moved in with Tommy. He’d admitted it to himself, to Frank, before that, but hadn’t told anyone else for weeks. In hindsight, sometimes he figures he’d left it too late, but most of the time he didn’t think it would have made a difference at all. But now, with what Tommy has told him, maybe it would have. It’s a knife sliding between Eddie’s ribs to think maybe. Maybe.

“But I didn’t.” Tommy looks resigned, shoulders drooping. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Eddie needs to know. It seems like Tommy has known for years that Eddie has loved Buck. Loves Buck. I knew there were going to be three people in this relationship. So why is he only bringing it up now?

“Because I didn’t. Because I can’t. I can’t break up with him. But I want to move forward. And I want to do so with him, for us to further our life together. But if I ask him to marry me when he doesn’t know for sure that you’re not an option, he’ll say no.”

Fear freezes Eddie’s insides. “So, what– what are you asking me to do?” Because Tommy is asking something of Eddie, wants something. Something Eddie fears he will have to make himself give.

Tommy straightens up, shoulders rolling back. He’s serious, solemn but not demanding or pleading when he says it. A devastating request. “I’m asking you, as my friend, to let him go.”

Eddie could be sick, he thinks, could vomit up the three and a quarter beers and the half a dozen chicken wings he’s consumed since he got to Tommy and Buck’s place. Could spill the mess of his insides up all over himself, all over Tommy, all over their lives. Tommy is his friend, was his friend before he was ever Buck’s boyfriend. Eddie should do this thing for him. Should give Buck his blessing to marry Tommy, give Buck up, give him over, completely, to this man who has loved him so well for the past three years. Eddie should; in his gut he knows it would be the right thing to do. But his heart– his heart is in revolt. It’s Buck. He loves him. How can he ever let him go?

Tommy leans forward, places a hand on Eddie’s leg, squeezes his fingers around the ball of his kneecap, until Eddie lifts his gaze and meets his eyes. “Or,” he says, somehow even more serious, “I am telling you, as your friend, to go and get him.”

[itsjunear]

Unspoken words

Note: Hey loves! I'm sorry for disappearing again, I was on vacation, and I'm terrible at managing my time. I finished my first semester at university and have started the second one (send help, please 💀), so all the accumulated stress made me want to write. Thank you for taking the time to read this! 💙💙 I'm sorry if it's a mess, but I hope it entertains you a bit! I've discovered that I enjoy writing angst, so I think that's my path.

P.S.: Azriel will always make me sigh, but I admit that Cassian is my favorite bat boy, so I'll include him everywhere.

Anyway, I love you all!💙💙 Every like and reblog is appreciated! Just a reminder that English isn't my first language, so if there's any mistake, don't hesitate to tell me!

Words: 1k+ Warnings: None, just angst Summary: The reader saw at the family dinner how Azriel and Elain worked together. It made something inside her stir, and the feelings she had been hiding became painfully unbearable.

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

For the Mother.

It was the only thought that came to mind before I dodged Cassian's blow. My reflexes definitely weren't at their best today, and we both knew it. So, I just rolled my eyes at the smug smile on Cassian's face.

I had slept less than three hours because every time I closed my eyes, the image I so desperately wanted to get out of my mind was the only thing I saw. So, I had tossed and turned in bed until dawn, which is why my body was so exhausted and dodging blows felt like torture. I wasn't even trying to attack him, just to hold my ground. That's how pathetic I was being today.

I didn't even anticipate Cassian's move until I felt his legs sweeping mine out from under me, and my back hit the ground. I gasped as the air left my lungs and let out a groan from the impact.

"What the hell is wrong with you today?" I heard his voice ask before his wings spread out above me, shielding my eyes from the direct sunlight.

I sighed, exhausted, and gave up, stretching my arms out and relaxing my muscles. He just crossed his arms and looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Since when are you so bad at fighting?"

I huffed and pulled my limbs in until I was sitting up. "Don't feed your ego too much. I'm just not having a good day."

I felt him scrutinize me with his eyes, narrowing them before he sighed and dropped his body next to mine.

"What's going on?" he asked softly, even his hazel eyes had turned gentler.

I could tell him, I knew I could, just as I knew he would keep quiet. But verbalizing what I felt, how I felt, would make everything more real.

"It's nothing. It's just my head, you know" I lied, downplaying it.

Cassian stayed silent next to me for a few seconds before I felt his hand press my shoulder. Of course, he had read the lie.

I sighed. Maybe I could tell him what I had seen yesterday, the connection between a certain shadow singer and the youngest Archeron sister at dinner, but telling him would mean explaining why it affected me so much.

"It's nothing, Cass. It's just that…" I paused to think a bit. "Have you ever felt cornered? Like you're running away from something you don't want to face… But once everything happens before your eyes, there's nowhere left to run."

I looked at him uncertainly, trying to hide the feeling of desperation and sadness. He came closer to me and put one of his arms around my shoulders, ignoring how sweaty we both were, before giving me a look of understanding and nodding gently.

"It's not a pleasant feeling" he agreed. "But I also know that if there's no place left to run, all you can do is face it, or whatever is haunting you will devour you."

"It's not that simple."

"It never is," was his only response before he shrugged "Being over five hundred years old doesn't make things easier."

"It's just that…" I swallowed thickly and finally decided to show him my vulnerable side. "Yesterday…"

However, before I could utter a word, the sound of boots hitting the ground alerted me, and I forced myself to keep my mouth shut. Cassian reacted by frowning and turned to see who it was. I mimicked his action, and when I saw a pair of wings accompanied by dark tendrils, I tensed a little.

I understood that Az had wanted us to hear him coming. So, I didn't flinch when he stood there studying us for a moment.

"Am I interrupting?"

I gave Cassian a quick, discreet glance, trying to convey that we'd finish the conversation later. He looked at me confused, but I shook my head, and he nodded in agreement without insisting.

He pressed my shoulder again before changing his position, still on the ground, but his attention now directed to his brother.

"So, your ass remembered we had training today and decided to show up, huh, Az?" he let out, instantly changing the mood of the place.

"I had a meeting with Rhys" Azriel replied simply, with one corner of his mouth lifted. "You look defeated."

Cassian's wings twitched, and I had to hold back a smile to speak. "He kicked my ass, actually, and now he's here on the ground pitying me."

Az smiled, and for a moment, I had to remind myself that this was nothing, that I shouldn't get any ideas in my head that would only go one way. He was off-limits, and continuing to think that way made my chest ache, so I forced myself to look away and focus on his shadows, some roaming the space, others coiling around his neck, whispering things in his ear.

"Hard to believe after the beating Rhys gave you yesterday" he mocked.

"That's not true" Cassian made an indignant noise before getting up from the ground and heading to the secluded area where we could rest for a while.

Grateful for the distraction from my own thoughts, I laughed as Az approached, and my joy faded a bit when I noticed he was stretching out his hand to help me up. I looked at him and hesitated, but I didn't want him to misinterpret my hesitation, knowing how his mind would tell him it was because of his scars. So, I took his hand, preferring my pain over his, even though these small gestures were what hurt me the most at the end of the day.

I thanked him without looking at him to soften the blow and prevent him from noticing my expression.

"I'm ready to fight you. Whenever you want" Cassian said as he drank water and tied his hair again with the leather strap Nesta had given him.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the competitive flame ignite in Az's face. Then I knew it was time to leave and pray to The Caldroun that neither of them would bleed today.

I walked over to Cassian, with Azriel on my heels, and took some water too, while looking for a towel to dry off. Az guessed what I wanted and handed me one that was next to him.

"Thanks" I repeated again without looking at him.

I said nothing more because I feared the lump that was slowly forming in my throat, but I could feel his gaze scrutinizing me. Nevertheless, I ignored it. I was determined to get rid of all the damn feelings.

As much as it hurt me more than I let on.

"I have to go, Cass. See you later" I said, patting his shoulder.

He nodded, smiling, looking for my gaze. "I'll look for you in the library" he replied, referring to finishing the conversation.

I nodded, and he returned to the training ring. So I turned to Azriel, who was already taking off his shirt, and I had to swallow hard. Seeing him in all his glory was always breathtaking, seeing his bronzed skin, every sculpted muscle, scar, and Illyrian tattoos.

But I would have to learn to forget him. There was no other option.

"See you later, Az" I said, also saying goodbye as I walked past him.

Or rather, trying to. Because he gently took my arm and spread his wings a bit, halting my path and blocking my way.

I had to hold back a shiver and looked at him, full of confusion.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

I could feel his eyes searching for answers in mine, even the cold brush of one of his shadows on the arm he still held. The only thing I could think of was to look away and nod.

"Yeah, why?" I replied in the calmest tone I could muster.

He said nothing, but I could still feel him trying to decipher something. As if he were searching for answers somewhere in me and couldn't find them anywhere.

"Are you sure?"

I nodded without saying anything, trying to bury my feelings deep inside. I was terrified; nothing good would come of letting anything surface. I'd rather spend a thousand years in The Prison than ruin the peace that existed in everyone's lives.

Still, I knew I hadn't convinced him that everything was fine, but I also knew he was kind enough not to push me. So finally, after a moment of doubt, he let me go and lowered his wing to let me pass.

"See you later, Az" I said again, escaping so quickly that he had no time to hold me back again or even say anything.

Once a few steps away, I felt the tension leave my body, and I let the expression of concern take over my face. I tried not to look back, I swear I did, but before going down the stairs, I turned my head a bit, only to find Az's worried gaze.

Maybe I should have bothered to change my expression, but, anyway, it didn't matter. Nothing would change, so I just continued my way down the stairs while a feeling of sadness took over my chest.

Let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list. I wasn’t sure if those who had previously asked still wanted to be included, so just let me know if you still want to be tagged!

[bedoballoons]

I read both mitsuri!reader head cannons (love them)!!! I was wondering if I could request if they met the readers EX who called her all those names and made her insecure.

Thank youuu!!! Also I have been thinking about that and oh my gosh I'm so glad you requested it!!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Insecurities~༺}

CW: Angsty with comfort!, F! reader gets called names, character helps, established relationships, cursing, and some mentions of weight shaming/eating disorders! (Pet names: Lyney: Mon amour!)

Also I only wrote 4 characters with this one because it was soooo longggg!!

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, and Wanderer!)

Past Demon slayer/Genshin fics:

Mitsuri reader pt 1

Mitsuri reader pt 2

Mitsuri like reader X Lyney

Tokito Muichiro reader

Shinobo Kocho reader

Shinobo Kocho reader

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

You smiled happily, pink green strands of hair flowing in the wind as you lounged on the blanket Diluc had laid down, the subtle scent of the apples he was cutting for your picnic sweet and tantalising, but sadly enough to make your stomach gurgle uneasily. You wouldn't say it out loud...especially not in front of him, but even despite both of your best efforts you were still finding it difficult to actually consume food. It had become a torture to eat...even when you were hungry or it was your favourite dish...those words just kept coming back.

"Oh my archons...look who it is. Didn't think I would be seeing you outside the gates of Mondstat, especially with the owner of the infamous wine industry."

Your whole body went cold, eyes shooting to the direction of the familiar voice...the voice that had said the words that changed you, that made you see your own body as a mistake. "I-i...ahem, he's my boyfriend." You silently cursed yourself for having such a shaky tone, if Diluc hadn't figured it out just by your reaction...he definitely had when you started to speak.

He stood up with crimson eyes that had gone dark, a menacing look decorating his features as he stared the other man down, "Don't believe we've met, who are you?" You glanced between the two of them, feeling like your presence was steadily growing smaller as they stared eachother down...the situation was making you feel sick to your stomach.

"I'm her ex boyfriend. Honestly I can't believe she caught the owner of the winery, are you some type of chubby chaser?"

That name...it hit you like a ton of bricks, any thoughts of recovery slipping away as tears filled your eyes, but you weren't alone this time. You jumped as Diluc grabbed your ex by his shirt, pulling him close so his fist would be inches away, "If you ever, call her that again...I will find a way to make you disappear, do you understand me? She's perfect the way she is and I love her more than anything else, besides your opinions don't matter...there's only two people who should see her for how goregous she is. Me and her."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney swung your intertwined hands gently, humming a soft melody while the two of you walked through fontaine. It had become a routine now, taking a walk together after his show and sharing a meal, it was one of the few times you enjoyed eating...mostly because you weren't actually focused on the food. Your attention was drawn to Lyney, the way he always seemed to be glowing with love and excitement after a show, the way he talked with adoration and he never once failed to mention how you'd inspired one of his tricks, it was so calm...that just for a moment you forgot everything else.

"Oh mon amour! Look a new shop has opened up, how about we eat there?" You tiled your head to see past him and sure enough there was a new shop, bustling with customers. "Oh Lyney...it's so crowded though." He chuckled, pulling you into a warm embrace, his eyes meeting yours as he placed a kiss on your lips lovingly, "I won't force you, but...we could just get something to eat and then find a nice quiet spot, it would be different...in a good way."

A light blush dusted your cheeks as you let him lead you to the crowd, silently agreeing to his adventurous ideas like you always seemed to.

"No way...is that you?! You haven't changed one bit have you?"

You stopped dead in your tracks, emotions all but gone at the sound of that voice...the one that haunted your nightmares and used to make you feel so small...treat you like you were nothing but a number on a scale. He seemed to be waiting for your response, but you couldn't bring yourself to say anything...you were frozen in place, heart racing.

"Mon amour who's this?" You glanced at Lyney, wondering if he could tell you were uncomfortable, but he didn't appear to have any difference in attitude...had he really not noticed?

"I'm the one who was trying to keep her out of these foodlines so she wouldn't get any fatter, looking out for her health like a good boyfriend should do...guess you can't say the same."

For a split second you thought Lyney was going to strike him, instead he chuckled and lowered his voice to almost a whisper, a terrifying tone seeping into his words as he spoke, "You should really stop talking....I happen to be apart of the fatui and truthfully, if you utter one more word about my perfect girl, you won't be able to say anything at all by the time we are done with you."

𑁍༄Albedo:

Klee held onto your hand tightly, pulling you through the crowded streets with Albedo trailing not far behind. The air was filled with the delicious smells of baked goods and fresh made dishes, and the streets were decorated with stalls that held bottles of wine, toys, banners, anything you could imagine. It was a festival like no other and you couldn't believe you got to be apart of it.

"Come on come on!! We are almost to the stage! Dodoco wants to see it all decorated!!" You giggled happily, following the little girl as she lead you up to the big stage in the center of all of the magic. It really was a sight to see, ribbon and cecilia's hung up with fairy lights, a sweet bard strumming away on his lyre while he sang of a hero from another land and to top it all of, there were dancers not far away, each of them moving to the melody with their partners.

"Wow...this is incredible." You stood in awe for a second as Albedo lifted Klee onto his shoulders, her hands holding dodoco in the air so it could watch along with her. It was a picture perfect moment,...one you wanted to remember forever...until it was ruined. Your eyes landed on met that of a person walking towards you...a familiar face you had thought you'd left in the past.

You crossed your arms over yourself protectively, hoping he wouldn't say a word to you, but of course that would only be to easy, "Heyy look who it is...see you got yourself a new partner to shove food in your mouth. He's clearly feeding you right isn't he?"

Your breath caught in your throat, your clothes suddenly feeling tighter and your previous small meal you'd barely managed to take a few bites of rumbling in your tummy.

"Im sorry what was that? Clearly you must be blind, she's truthfully a work of art and without a doubt the most stunning woman I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. Perhaps you should go get another plate of food, actually make it two since you look like you could probably eat both, and stop bothering everyone with that tragic excuse of a voice you have."

"A-a-albedo?!"

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer huffed quietly as you pushed away your plate of food, less then half of it missing and yet you were already feeling queasy? It bugged him to no end,...no matter how many times he said you were perfect and argued with you that your weight was never a issue...you still thought it was. He begged you, something he never thought he never thought he'd do, to try and see yourself from his perspective, but it didn't work.

"You want some of mine? Maybe you'd like it more if it was different? Hey? What's up with you?" Wanderer waved his hand in front of your face, surprised to see fear in your eyes and goosebumps forming on your skin, you didn't even look like you were breathing you were so deathly still. It actually freaked him out a little, could humans just die like that?

"Hey stop that, you're making me all worried. What are you looking at?" He tapped your hand, but with no response he turned to follow your line of sight...it was just some guy? That's what had you all scared?, "Who is he? Did he beat you up? I won't let him hurt you if that's what you're afraid of." You shrunk into your chair, footsteps drawing closer as the some guy made his way to your table...

"If it isn't my ex girlfriend. I really didn't think I'd be seeing you at a restaurant...actually I did completely, I'm more shocked you don't have three plates finished yet. Piggy. Even got the pink green hair to prove it...and who's this clown, his hats bigger than he is."

You covered your face in embarrassment, trying to hide away from the situation...not let either men know how much it bothered you, but Wanderer was to clever for that and he took no shame in starting something...

"How about I take my big hat and shove it so far up your ass you see actual pigs fly. Maybe then you'd know the difference between when you should keep your mouth shut and when you should open it. Oh and moron, she's clearly not a pig cause she looks nothing like you."

He stood up with a grunt, pushing the guy so harshly he was sent backwards falling to the ground with a satisfying thud while your boyfriend grabbed your hand and lead you away, telling you more than once how beautiful you looked as you made your way home.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

[httpswritings]

Poison Paradise — Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

Warnings: none.

Word count: Around 1,1k

Summary: Enemies to lovers (?) after a match.

Aitana tried to forget about how nervous you made her, but deeply inside, she knew any effort would be in vain. 

Spanish camp had been a stressful environment way before Aitana could remember, and that was key to getting closer with you.

Playing for Real Madrid against Barça had always been hell, but something shifted the last time you had to.

Aitana came up to you with a shy smile as she bit her lower lip.

Her eyes were widening and showed a mixture of victory and compassion.

She enjoyed playing against your team, relishing every victory against the historic rival in men's team history.

But watching you console your teammates as the first captain of your team was crushing her heart. You had walked all over the pitch, shaking hands with the Barça players, including Aitana, to then shift your focus to your teammates. 

Some of them were on their knees, others were crying or walking off the pitch as they stormed out, and some others did not care at all.

At one moment, the stadium felt way bigger than before, as the crowd sounds seemed to penetrate your ears until you were only able to hear a high-pitched sound. 

If you had been more aware of your surroundings, you'd probably have experienced a panic attack, but you were numb, and after another defeat against Barcelona, no one could blame you for not feeling anything anymore.

That's what Aitana noticed. She saw you looking at her as she approached you. Her soft smile quickly disappeared after noticing your blank stare. 

“Let's go inside? Do you need anything?”

She only got more worried after not getting any response back, quickly holding your hand to guide you as you both walked off the pitch.

As the two of you headed to your changing room, she got nearer you, her lips dangerously close to yours.

You started to feel more alive as her eyes looked at you.

Aitana looked visibly concerned.

“Let me get you some water.”

You harshly stopped her from leaving your side—maybe too harsh, as she bumped into you.

Your eyes widened, and you quickly apologized, thinking she was going to get mad, but she stayed quiet, looking from your neck to your lips.

You instinctively licked yours.

Your mind tried to regain focus, but could you blame yourself for not being able to?

She brushed your arms softly, as a way of easing you, but your thoughts had turned into a mess of neediness for her body.

You rolled your eyes when your teammate Maite approached you.

Maite had been Aitana's friend for a while, as they both had met some years ago during national camp.

She was visibly affected by the loss, too, so Aitana shifted the closeness of your body to Maite's, leaving you in a state of jealousy.

You weren't a jealous person; you didn't like Aitana, and you couldn't start having feelings for your biggest rival.

Surprisingly, Aitana had managed to get Maite head to your changing room.

She felt awful for brushing her friend off, but she needed to have a moment with you.

“Are you leaving now?”

You nodded.

She was running out of time.

Everything happened so fast.

The game, the aftermath, but somehow whenever she looked into your eyes, she felt time stopping, you being the only source of life.

Her hand rested on your waist.

“I'm proud of you.”

You rolled your eyes. 

Not at her words, but at the thought of the match you had just played.

“I appreciate it, but I don't feel like talking about this.”

She nodded and pulled you into a warm hug.

Her embrace made you almost cry, until you tilted your head, finding her neck.

It was an innocent move, the best way you found to stop the tears falling down, but as your nose softly brushed the skin of her neck, you noticed how she shivered and hissed in a low volume, even though you were able to hear it.

You separated a little bit from her, trying to figure out if she was feeling the same way as you.

You took as a confirmation the way she looked around, just in case someone was approaching.

It was not safe to do anything there, so Aitana grabbed your hand and pulled you into her team's changing room.

You froze at first, not wanting to enter the place where the players had been celebrating the victory, but you gave in and let her guide you through it.

The players looked curiously at you, not understanding why you were there or the quickness of Aitana to pull you into the bathroom.

“It's an emergency,” she informed her teammates, causing the opposite of what she had in mind, as they approached you both, who were already into a bathroom facility.

“Yes, she's fine. Don't worry.” 

You had to stop laughing as you shook your head, not being able to believe all the mess Aitana had done just to have some privacy with you.

She looked at you and slightly tilted her head to the left as a way of asking for permission, and you nodded.

With her hand placed on your left cheek, Aitana pressed her lips against yours.

Adrenaline rushed throughout your body.

You knew this was wrong; everything about this was awfully wrong.

But you couldn't get enough of the poison paradise Aitana's lips were. 

How could something so forbidden taste so good?

Her lips guided you through the kiss.

It started roughly, slowing down as you kissed.

Her knee pressed against your core as she was quick enough to cover your mouth.

You could hear the other players talking in the bathroom.

“Tell me you have some time left before you have to go. You don't know how much I've thought about this,” Aitana whispered.

You had to leave in about ten minutes, and you hadn't even showered.

“I can't...” 

She sighed.

“I've wanted this for a long time, too.”

Aitana looked up and smiled when she saw you smiling, warming her heart knowing the day you've been having.

She placed her head on your chest, “This is so wrong... Like so wrong.”

You laughed.

“I think we both know. But I really want— need to kiss you.”

Aitana looked at you as she licked her lips, and you laughed again, making her roll her eyes.

“Do I need to ask you?”

Aitana nodded, enjoying your desperation to feel her lips.

“Can you kiss me, Aitana?”

She softly grabbed your head, bringing it closer to hers but tilting it to the right, so she could reach your ear.

“As you wish, beautiful.” 

And with that, she linked her lips to yours, both of you tasting the bittersweet taste of rivalry.

[bigification]

Handlebars

Day 1:

My first day of college was a lot more stressful than I thought it would be. I finally made it to residence last night, which only gave me one night to get settled before classes started. I was nervous to meet my roommate because of all of the horror stories I had heard about them in the past, but it ended up being so much worse than I expected. In my mind, the worst outcome was some lazy douche who never cleaned up after himself. So you can imagine my shock when I knock on the door and a full grown 30 something year old man answers the door.

"Hey, buddy. The names Mike, come on in."

He looked and sounded like a jock in a college movie, but when the actor is actually 30. His voice was deep and buttery, it almost gave me butterflies. I just smiled awkwardly and walked past him through the door.

"I'm Oscar by the way." I introduced myself.

"Cool, I'll just call you Handlebars." He said, without a care in the world.

He sat down on his bed, and that was the extent of our interactions for the day.

Day 7:

It's been a week and all my other worries about roommates came true. Not only is he 15 years older than me, he's a slob. He gets home from the gym drenched in sweat and throws his gym clothes wherever without cleaning them. He doesn't do his dishes, or any chore for that matter. In fact it seems like he intentionally keeps the place dirty after I try to clean it. And whatever musky cologne he wears attacks my nose every time I open the door, it feels like the smell seeps into everything, including my clothes.

The few times that he actually wants a chore to be done, he just asks me to do it, or rather he just tells me to do it. Normally I would be happy to tell him to go fuck himself, but I always find myself doing whatever he asks. I hate it.

"Yo Handlebars, be a doll and clean the dishes for me."

"Yo Handlebars, I ran out of clean gym clothes, mind running em down to the laundry for me."

It's like he's casting a spell whenever he talks.

Day 15:

I've started to settle into routine. The things that used to bother me about Mike seem a bit more trivial now. We've even started to become pretty close. I get enthralled by his conversations about business. He goes on and on about his father's enterprises, and how they'll be his soon.

I even started going to the gym with him lately. He lent me some of his gym clothes, even if they're way too big. It just made me appreciate him more. I never really clocked how jacked he was, sometimes he goes to the gym shirtless and it shows off his massive pecs and thick biceps.

Since joining him, I've noticed my body has improved quite significantly. I used to be skinny and lanky, but there is definition starting to show throughout my body.

Day 30:

Just a month into school and I was already on my way to failing out. I just don't care about it anymore, but Mike gave me a solution. He said I could just switch programs and do business with him, and his dad would even pay for it. How could I pass that up.

Now that I've switched, it's like all stress in my life has disappeared. Business is so easy, and now I have more time with Mike. We usually have a routine of going to the gym after our last class of the day.

"Yo Handlebars, you're lookin strong man. I'd kill to grow as fast as you."

He shouted at me from across the gym, when he caught me staring at myself in the mirror. Butterflies flew through my stomach when he said that. And he wasn't wrong, I've been noticing a lot of changes in my body. My face has matured, my eyebrows are thicker, my nose is bigger, and my jawline is more square. I even have to shave now, when I never had to before college. A five o'clock shadow engulfs my face by the end of the day, especially above my lip. The rest of my body has gotten hairier too, especially around my pecs, arms, and legs. And that's not even mentioning my progress at the gym. I actually look like I belong there, my biceps have a nice roundness to them and my chest actually sticks out from my body. Those gym clothes that Mike gave me look smaller and smaller every day.

Life in the dorms has also been a dream. I've been wearing that cologne that Mike loves, and it's like I unlocked a whole new level of confidence. People seem to love listening to me talk, and people seem to respect me more.

Day 60:

This past month has been the best month of my life. Now that I'm in my mid twenties, I can drink whenever I want. Mike and I go out raves and frat parties basically every night, my body is basically used to every drug at this point. And with Mike's dad paying for college, I literally don't need to show up to lectures and I get straight A's.

"Fuck, bro. I think you're bigger than me Handlebars."

Mike said with a shocked face when we were snapping pics at the gym. We flexed beside each other, and it was obvious. My biceps dwarfed his, and his gym clothes had become really tight on me lately. The shirt was skin tight against my upper body, showing off my juicy pecs and my growing six pack. And the shorts looked like they were about to burst under the pressure of my ass cheeks and thighs, to the point that the outline of my dick was constantly visible.

"Here bro, take this."

Mike handed me a package. It was filled with gym clothes and jocks.

"Just for you Handlebars."

I yanked him in for a bro hug, I could feel myself blushing.

"You got this all for me bro?"

"Fuck yeah, man. You've been grinding it out in the gym, don't think I haven't noticed my clothes straining against those muscles. And you need something to contain that snake in your pants before we get campus security called on us."

Mike chuckled, his laugh was infectious.

Day 100:

I started in the mirror. Sometimes I barely recognize myself. The confident and cocky mask goes away when I'm alone, just leaving the caring gym bro that's on the true inside.

Damn, I think to myself, Mike is making me too sappy. I give myself a cocky smile after shaving my face, leaving me with a thick moustache. I flex, admiring my guns and bouncing my pecs. Man I look good for a man pushing his thirties.

"Fuck, handlebars. Since when were you so hairy?" Mike asked me when I left the bathroom.

"What? Are you jealous I'm manlier than you bro?" I taunted him by opening my button up wider, revealing the thick pelt of hair that covered my body.

"Nah, it's got me feelin something tho." He smirked at me.

"Hah, I fuckin knew it. You want a piece of this." I bounced my pecs.

"Don't make it gay bro, it's not like that. Just a dude admiring another dude." He blushed.

The tension between us had been building for weeks. He would stand too close when spotting me at the gym, and I'd catch him staring at me in the mirror. Not like I haven't been doin it too. We also wear less clothes around the dorm. I still got that jock strap Mike gave me a while back, I'd be lying to myself if I said it fit but I don't care, and it seems like Mike doesn't mind either. And sometimes I wear an open button up just cuz it makes my pecs pop.

Day 120:

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this." Mike whispered in my ear. His breath was heavy as he threw me against the wall. His dick was bouncing with excitement against my ass.

For context, a few hours ago we were at the gym like normal. At this point, we didn't even go to class, it was just gym and parties now. The tension had been growing at the gym forever, sometimes we'd release by foolin around in the showers, but it never went further a quick handjob when no one was lookin. It was different this time, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Broad daylight in a busy gym, his hands would be far down my shorts, teasing.

At first I was dismissive. We already got caught multiple times by campus security, so close to getting kicked out of school. If it wasn't for Mike's dad being a rich alumni, I think both of us would be long gone by now. But he knew how to push my buttons, he always has. I gave in, but had the decency to drag him by the collar to the showers. At least there we could be naked.

Ok, back to the point. I grunted as his thick arms held me in place. Mike had been working extra hard to catch up to me, and it was showin. It turned me on, feelin his muscled forearms against my shoulders. But I wasn't gonna let him win that easily. What Mike seemed to forget was the near decade I spent in the Navy before comin to college.

I whipped around, using the hot water against our skin to slip out from his pin. I pushed his shoulder, sending him tripping over my foot, which I had conveniently placed behind his. I caught him like a damsel in distress, so there was no doubt in his mind who was on top.

Within seconds, it's like my training kicked in and I had him pinned down on his stomach. The bristles of my thick mustache rubbed against the back of his ear as I whispered, "You really thought you could top me?" I asked with a chuckle.

He moaned like a twink when I stuck my cock up his ass. It took a moment for his ass to adjust to takin a beatin rather than dishin one out, but he'll get used to it. The wet fur on my forearm slid across his back as I rode him like a bull. I could almost feel his organs rearrangin to fit my 10 inch rod.

I groaned as I felt months of sexual tension release in seconds, shooting my seed all through Mike's body. He was mine. And by the looks of it, he enjoyed the ride too. A trail of his cum ran from under his pinned body, to the drain in the middle of the showers.

"You're mine."

I whispered in his ear with a shit eatin grin.

"Now clean this mess up before you dare come back to my dorm."

I pushed off his back to get to my feet. I continued rubbing my cock as I walked away, making ropes of cum cover the showers. I walked right out of the showers and into the locker room, making sure to wink at campus security on the way out. Someone always calls them, and we always get away with it Scott free, so I think they gave up. It just feels good to make people know they're beneath you, and to do it while rubbin one out.

I cleaned up and walked alone to my dorm, sat on my couch, and waited for Mike to come back. After a few minutes, he walked in without a word. He walked over to me and laid in my lap as I turned on football. I smelled his hair, making sure he actually cleaned up like I ordered.

"Good boy." I reassured him while massaging his pecs.

Day 150:

I finally moved our stuff out of my shitty dorm. Mikey's father just decided to pay for our diplomas outright, instead of trying to turn all of our F's into A's.

We moved to L.A. and I fuckin love it here. I just walk around in nothin but a jock, and people love me for it. And there are so many entrepreneurs like me, so much money to be made.

Everyone just calls me handlebars, I can't remember the last time anyone called me my name. Now that I think about it, I don't even remember what it was, but who the fuck cares. I'm handlebars, the life of the party and the best fuck in this city.

[iamthat-iam]

Immortality 💫✨

This is no shade to any teachers specifically, I'm just pointing out something I've noticed in the community and studying the law of consciousness and non dualism.

Think about it. You're God. You are awareness and awareness is infinite. Even when you are asleep you never stop being aware, you are just aware of being unconscious. When the human body "dies" you aren't going to disappear, you are going to return to the state of awareness you were in before taking on a human body and going through life. You have always been here and will always be here. So technically you are already immortal.

But with that being said, when we are fully awake to our power, why do we still entertain the idea of the body dying? To each their own, I guess, but I know that for me, I don't feel like going through another experience of forgetting who I really am and going through life believing I'm separate from everything, searching for happiness outside of me. Conforming to whatever society tells me I should be doing or how I should live. That's exhausting.

The universe was created by you. The idea of death was created by you. So who's to say you can't drop the idea of death? Just like we've come to understand that time and space aren't real, just made up concepts to make sense of the human experience. Death isn't any different.

You can live (or rather, occupy a body) for as long as you want. You want to experience your dream life as (insert name) and live for 1000 years? You can do that. Want to live forever? You can do that. If you decide you get bored with your current body/ego and want to start over with a new life, you can do that too. But it's YOUR CHOICE. You have a choice in EVERYTHING.

Nothing is above you or outside of you, there are no outside forces, including death, that you must abide to or accept. Period.

[akutasoda]

Hey! I've never requested anything like this before but I saw that your requests were open and I thought I'd give it a go. I've been really sick for the past two weeks and I've had this terrible insomnia and I've just felt really kinda alone and abandoned lately. Can you write a soft Alhaitham x reader thing where he tucks reader into bed and cuddles and holds them and reassures that they're loved and safe and wanted? It would be really nice if you could also have reader relax into little space and be referred to as a guy, but if you aren't comfortable writing that then don't worry about it.

But yes so soft Alhaitham comforting needy and hurt reader please and thank you

his way of comfort

synopsis - he's noticed you're not quite yourself lately, so he tries to help

includes - alhaitham

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, slight angst, maybe ooc, wc - 705

a/n: this was actually req by @c1evererer, i hope you get better soon! no matter how alone you may feel, there will always be someone there for you!! please take care of yourself!

if alhaitham was anything, it'd be observant. he could have a keen eye on anything around and still pay attention to what he was doing, although sometimes he did choose to block out his surroundings with the trusty help of noise cancelling. although, alhaitham wasn't exactly a people's person. he couldn't care less about others around him, those that he associated with were barely excluded even though he'd still deny it.

however, no matter what, he would care about you. he never imagined caring about someone the way he did for you, but sometimes love made you do crazy things. alhaitham would willingly keep an eye on you at any time and even more so when he started noticing your mood shift into something sour. admittedly, he wouldn't intervene for a while as you may have simply had a bad day. but he couldn't ignore it after you seemed to get worse by the day.

your usual demeanour seemed to disappear by the day, in its place was a kind of sadness that seemed to make you slightly distant. alhaitham wouldn't pry, he knew it probably wasn't his place to, but he couldn't stand seeing you in such a state for any longer. he wasn't the best, or even knew where to start, when it came to comforting people but he wanted to try. something was plaguing your mind and he wouldn't sit there and do nothing.

he soon found you swiftly after returning home, immediately he asked if you had anything left to do for the day and at one shake of your head, he urged you to come with him. you weren't going to reject his offer, even if you would, you simply didn't have the energy.

you followed behind closely as he brought you to your shared bedroom. you let him lead you into bed and indulged in the way that he tucked you in, doing whatever would make you comfiest, uncaring for his own later - it didn't matter what he wanted, if it would help you feel better he'd do it. it felt nice. your usually stoic lover being so caring.

it wasn't too long after before alhaitham himself laid down beside you and brought your figure, covered in blankets, into his embrace. one hand found its way to yours as he laced his fingers with yours while the other reached to cradle the back of your head as he gently rested his on top of yours.

you two laid in a comfortable silence for a while before he broke it. “if you don't want to talk about it, we don't have to” he paused slightly in hesitation before adding “as long as you know that i'm always here for you, whenever and for whatever”

another beat of silence. he pulled away slightly to look at you, “right now, i just want you to know that you're here, you're safe and loved” you could see his features softening ever so slightly.

“i don't know what i’d do without you sometimes, how dull my life would be without you, i never imagined it but now that i have you, i wouldn't have it any other way” he leaned in again, pressing a small kiss to your forehead, and letting you rest. eventually, you both drifted off in each other's embrace listening to his words of affirmation - alhaitham would claim it was the worst sleep he's ever had, but you would say the opposite and that's all he cared about.

alhaitham wasn't a people's person. he wasn't the best at comforting someone, but when it came down to you, he would try his damn hardest.

(for the following weeks, alhaitham became incredibly doing. ensuring that you returned to your normal self that he fell so hopelessly in love with)

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @frankiesteinn

[fallenneziah]

How they are in bed

Includes John "Soap" MacTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick.

CW: pretty self explanatory, NSFW

Soap 🧼

He can be a Dom and a sub, just say the word. He loves to be dominate but can let you take the reigns no problem at all.

Has a mommy/daddy kink when subbing.

Sloppy oral. Super oral fixation and whether he's given clit or cock he will lose himself on you. Sloppy and greedy he'll could make you cum six times and he's still not satisfied, holding you down and lapping at your cum through your sensitivity.

Absolutely a brat and will try to provoke you.

Loves to wear clothing he knows will make you want him then and there.

Will also try to fuck you on mission a lot. One big horny brat.

He's down for any position but loves when you'll pretzel/saddle with him. It just gets his heart going in ways he's never felt.

Eye contact or not, if there's no intimacy to the interaction he cannot enjoy it. One night stands will him to an orgasm probably, but he doesn't truly enjoy himself without the intimacy.

Your nipples also fit into his oral fixation. They could be sore and sensitive but he'll suck and bite your sensitive nipples until he can't get anymore.

The kind of guy to get so drunk he's spilling nonsense before you are. loves watching you roll your hips, thrusting along his cock so nicely. How your insides clench and tighten around him so greedily. It makes him feel so good.

If he's subbing you must pull his hair. "Mommy/daddy!! I'll be a good boy for you, I promise- augh!!" Once you start pulling his mohawk it's over for him. He's cumming regardless.

Loves orgasm denial no matter what way it goes if you're torturing him or vice versa.

Loves rough sex but will also wake you up early in the morning, ready to soak in your presence with gentle love.

He loves to call you his sunflower (gn), mommy/daddy, and the more teasing and playful name Sud. (Get it, like, soap suds?? Ok, I'll go)

Ghost 💀

He hates being called daddy. If you call him daddy he will immediately lose all arousal in the interaction. But if you call him sir, or lieutenant, he will lose his mind over you. "Sir- I'm so close, please l-lieutenant!!"

He doesn't want to disclose it but he's kind of kinky. He never wants to hurt you, and despite popular belief he is not a sadist unless he has your full consent eight times over. Consent is so important to him you don't understand. If you have not confirmed to his face in simple words you like something, he will not do it.

Impact play. He loves to bend you over doggy style and slap your ass until it's red and sore with his handprints. They're like his way of marking you even if they will disappear soon.

Doesn't have much of an oral fixation but will mark you with so many hickeys it's impossible to hide them.

Bites your inner thighs. Before he takes you in his mouth to give you the most heaven forbidden, bone hollowing oral he will nip and bite your inner thighs and along the soft flesh under your ass.

He does not sub. He's not always a strong Dom unless he's in the mood but he does not like to sub at all. He likes to be in control at all time and a lack of such will immediately pull him out of the experience and turn him off.

Fucks like an animal. He enjoys consent but once he's getting it he will fuck you until you forget your own name. He pulls your hair to arch your back and wraps his hands around your throat.

He could fuck you Doggystyle or have you on your back facing him, your legs resting on either of his hips.

He doesn't like to fuck in clothing. It's just weird. He will only wear his mask or his gloves to fuck you and nothing else.

If you wear one of his balaclava's in bed- sorry but you will be getting zero rest.

He does not have a very high sex drive but he's the kind of guy who can get you to orgasm eight times by the time he cums.

He calls you his precious whore, baby, love, and his only.

John Price 🥃

Definitely Doms. And he Doms hard.

He likes to tie you up in his office while he does his paperwork, disregarding you except for you needily grinding your wet cunt on his shoe or rutting your erection into the sole of his boot.

Loves to be called daddy. It goes right to his cock. Will praise you throughout sex or daily tasks. When you finish up a ton of paperwork he will kiss your neck and mutter "Such a good girl/boy."

"When you're finished up your tasks, daddy has a reward for you." And that reward is fucking your throat.

He enjoys watching you squirm helplessly with him. Lighting up a cigar while you grind against him, trying so hard to come while he refuses to touch you.

Strokes his fingers through your hair while guiding you down on his cock.

When you're in the privacy of his room he likes to fuck you in front of the mirror, forcing you to watch your entrance stretching and welcoming his cock. "See how I wreck you sweetheart (gn)?? Look at your hole taking daddy so well."

Is always open to trying new stuff with you as long as it does not involve hurting you too much.

If you bug him while he's in his office he will either make you fuck yourself on his cock while still sitting in his chair or he'll pick you up like you weigh absolutely nothing, slam you on his desk and demolish your hole while you scream his name.

Although he really enjoys sex when he can admire you doing all the work. Touching you during sex depending on the. He instance isn't always a huge turn on.

He loves cowgirl, watching you writhe on his cock, shifting your hips, your thighs burning in exhaustion to keep yourself going while Price does absolutely nothing to help you.

Eventually when you give in he'll take your hips and proceeds to fuck you silly.

Loves receiving oral over giving but when he does give oral he sends you to heaven for a quick checkup before you come back to your body and realize you just came so hard.

Calls you his good girl/boy, daddy's whore, princess, darling (gn), beautiful.

Gaz 🧢

Can dom and sub. He isn't always a strict Dom but you will be reminded he is in charge.

Loves to control what you are allowed to do during sex. If you are reading a book and he wants to delve himself on some oral, you better not say a fucking word.

He loves giving and receiving oral, keeps it's clean for the most part but when he makes you cum he laps at your delicious spend, all for himself.

Loves to mark your beautiful skin with hickeys and nip at the sensitive patches, hearing you gasp and whimper.

Doesn't have any special names he likes, if you want to call him daddy or Kyle, it all does the same things to him.

Also the type of guy to fuck you in the mirror and make you watch your own face as he gives you what you want.

Hard sex, rough, desperate, carnal sex. He's rearranging your insides, especially if it's after a mission. The rare occasions when he's gentle is in the mornings when his cock is pressed between your thighs or lazily dragging in and out of your tight hole.

Can and will spit down your throat. If you open your mouth for a prolonged amount of time he is lubing up your throat with his own saliva.

Can get absolutely bottom drunk like Johnny. Lapping at your pre-cum and licking you through your overstimulating. Loves to nip your clit or your balls just to be a bit meaner while you writhe from just seeing your life flash before your eyes.

"Look at you, absolutely destroyed by my cock. Look at your beautiful face sweetheart. Such a beautiful face ruined on my cock."

Loves for you facing him, legs over each of his shoulders or sometimes both legs over one shoulder while he fucks into you.

Aims to please you over himself 9/10.

Loves to call you sweetheart and babe most.

[ahgasegotarmy116]

Seven Days to Fall Again | Saturday | Jeon Jungkook

Inspired by the MV "Seven" by Jung Kook ft. Latto (obvi lol) Summary: Life is meaningless without you. Who knew a broken heart could be shattered twice? Pairing: Reader x Jungkook (almost exes to lovers lol) Word Count: 3.2k ~ (sorry I took forever to update) Warnings: Explicit language, angst, mentions of an accident and death (nothing too crazy) a/n: Hope you guys like this one! I wasn't sure how I would go about including the whole funeral thing in the mix but I think I did alright lol Lemme know what you think! Start from the beginning

After finishing my shower last night I didn't even bother drying my hair or putting clothes on. All I could manage to do is barely make it to my bed and once my head hit the pillow the sobbing just wouldn't stop. 

I don't know how long I laid there, sobbing and sobbing and sobbing until my head was pounding and I couldn't push any more tears out. Something about last night shattered the fantasy of being able to move on with my life and feel happy without him when the truth is I don't think I can. 

Even though this whole week has been nothing but him barging into my life and always doing something to make things more difficult it's as if deep down I was happy he was still trying, happy that he wasn't gonna give up on us. 

I love him. I love him so much that being with him was the only thing that ever mattered. 

I wanted him to want me just as much as I wanted him but with how our lives have been recently I just felt like I was just there. Just another person that he interacted with and nothing more. It hurt to have him come home and have nothing to say to me, no time to do anything and not even an ounce of energy to spend on me. 

He my boyfriend for fucks sake! We should be spending time together and eating together and laughing and smiling together. Why have simple things like that disappeared almost entirely? 

I love him, I love everything about him but if it's come to this point that I have to question myself day after day if I'm the one who has done something wrong, done something to make him treat me like this...then I don't think we're meant to be together. 

Relationships are about trusting and loving each other and being able to give them your love. But he hasn't shown me that he loves me at all with the way he's been acting and he hasn't given me the opportunity to show him my love either. 

I just don't understand!

Reaching out for my phone I jump at the feeling of it vibrating right away, showing me that I have an incoming call.

After taking a quick glance to check the caller ID it's already got me on edge. "Hello?" I say groggily but am cut off by the sounds of heavy breathing and hospital noises in the background. 

"Y/n, y/n please you have to come quick he-" "Okay slow down take a deep breath and tell me what's going on" I coach Jimin when I hear the panic in his voice. He takes a big gulp of air and lets it out before continuing with a shaky voice. "It's Jungkook" he says and my heart stops. 

"W-what do you mean it's Jungkook? What happened?" I say, throwing the covers off of me and running around my room, grabbing clothes and franticly throwing them on. "I don't know I just, they said that there was an accident and they brought him here but there was so much blood and-" "Did he make it?" I question and I'm met with silence on the other end. "Damnit Jimin is Jungkook okay?" I shout, shaking and gripping onto the phone until my knuckles have gone pale. 

"He-he didn't make it. They said it was too late that there was nothing they could do..." he says but my arm drops and with it takes Jimin's voice. My breathing picking up as it starts to sink in. 

"Oh God what have I done?" I whisper to myself, my whole body shaking and my vision getting blurry with the tears that are bound to never stop. 

"Y/n! Y/n answer me! I'm coming over" I can hear him shouting at me from the other side and I pick it back up and let out a silent 'okay' and hang up the phone before my knees give out and I fall to the ground. 

"If I wouldn't have let him go, if I would've just asked him to stay he would-" I say aloud but cut myself off with a sob and rest my head on my bed, the sheets muffling the sounds of my screams. I'm never going to be able to forgive myself for this, I shouldn't have been so hard on him I should've just heard him out...

~~~~

Once I feel as if my sobs have died down I take that as an opportunity to get a glass of water but before I'm able to get there I hear a panicked knock on the door. I rush to open it and grasp onto him as tight as I can and not daring to let go. 

"Shhh, shh I know" Jimin comforts me, rubbing my back as he walks in, still holding onto me and guiding us both over to the couch. "Jimin h-he was here last night and I just let him walk away and I-" "Hey, don't do that, you couldn't have known that this was going to happen" he says, holding me tighter in his embrace, telling me not to go there. 

"Do his parent's know?" I ask after I've calmed down again, pulling away and sitting up to face him. "Yeah they do and they're on their way already. They're having the funeral today" he says while pushing the tear dampened strands of hair out of my face.

"Today? They can't have it today! What about the rest of his family?" I question, surprised that a funeral could even be put together so quickly. "They want to have a small intimate gathering for now and then tell everyone later. It's just too painful and they want it done quietly" he says and I nod my head, respecting his parent's wishes. 

"What time does it start?" I question, wiping away the tears that keep falling. "At five" he say, cringing at the time constraint we've been left with. "Jimin that's two hours" I say, shocked that they would be able to even be emotionally capable of setting everything up so quickly. 

"I know but this was the only spot they had available" he says and I nod my head, not bothering to ask for more details since nothing else really matters right now. "Will you take me to the funeral?" I ask, knowing for a fact that I wouldn't be able to make it there on my own. 

"Of course" he replies placing a hand on my shoulder and giving me a sad smile. "I'm gonna go home real quick and change and then I'll come back for you" he explains, placing a quick kiss on my forehead and heading out the door. I sit there and let a few more tears fall before pulling myself together and getting up to get ready. 

I don't bother putting on any makeup since there's no reason to. My boyfriend is gone and I'm not going to hide the sadness that I feel or cover up the gaping hole in my chest that once held my heart. The heart that always belonged to him and will forever stay with him. 

How could I have been so stupid? I should've made him stay. Maybe then things would be different. 

~~~~

As Jimin and I walk into the little chapel they're holding the funeral in I first lay my eyes on Mrs. Jeon who is putting up a stronger front than I thought she would. It probably hasn't hit her yet, the fact that her youngest son has been taken from her. 

Mr. Jeon is the one that notices us and comes over immediately and gives me the warmest hug I've ever received. "I'm so sorry" is all I can manage to choke out, not being able to hide my tears as I feel them start to form again, my vision going glossy. 

"Me too" he responds and leads me over to Mrs. Jeon who pulls me in close right when she sees me and that's when I lose it. "I know, it's gonna be okay. Don't worry love it's gonna be alright" she says while stroking my head, trying her best to calm me down. I choke back the sobs as much as I can but no matter how hard I try, the tears never stop. 

After a few more moments with them Jimin escorts us to our seats, just one row back from the front and I notice that I don't recognize the people in front of us, or anyone else for that matter. I brush it off and take a tissue out of the box that's placed in front of me and take deep shaky breaths in and out, finally quieting down as soon as the officiant walks up to the podium.

"Who is that?" I whisper to Jimin, taking in the gorgeous woman who is presiding over the ceremony. "Not sure but she's beautiful" Jimin says, while checking her out. I elbow him in the side and he holds back a groan in pain from the contact. 

"Not the time nor the place for that Jimin" I scold and he apologizes quietly before we continue to listen to the ceremony and as soon as she opens up the floor for people to come up and say some things that we remember about Jungkook we all watch in horror as the lid to the coffin opens and out comes a perfectly healthy Jungkook. 

We all just sit there stunned, not knowing what to do in this situation so Jungkook decides to break the silence. "Thank you so much everyone for coming. I'm sorry to have sprung this on all of you but your dedication has truly moved me" he says while climbing out of the coffin. 

"Y/n" he says, everyone now turning towards me and watching my every movement. "Please don't hate me for this but I just hoped that in doing this you would see how much we both love each other still and how I truly cannot live without you" he says while everyone sighs, acting as though this is somehow romantic. 

"Please will you give me another chance?" he asks, holding his hand out to me and I'm still frozen, flabbergasted that he would go this far. 

Jimin pokes me in the side to bring me back to reality and whispers a quick "Say yes" in my ear, encouraging me to take his hand. I take a deep breath and stand up, smiling at him sweetly and his eyes light up, waiting for that answer he's desperately been hoping for. 

"Go to hell" I growl and walk down the aisle, storming out of the place, not bothering to look back even as a commotion starts to settle in.             

"Y/n wait!" I hear Jungkook call after me, grabbing my wrist to keep me from getting to far but I rip it out of his grasp and turn around to face him. 

"You know I cried for you. I cried so hard I didn't know if I would ever stop. I cried for you last night and I cried even harder when I found out. I blamed myself for your death. I told myself 'If I just would've made him stay then he would still be here' I woke up thinking about how much I really love you and how I wanted to be with you again and then I get the call and it rips my heart out. I never would've forgiven myself" I shout at him, utterly heartbroken by this. 

"You know, something like this might've worked for your little actor friends but this is probably the worst thing you could've ever done to me. Jungkook I thought you died! You let me believe that you were dead and made me feel guilty about letting you go. Don't you see how fucking sick and twisted this is?" I continue, letting out angry tears as my voice gets louder and louder. 

"Y/n I'm sorry it was never supposed to be like this I jus-" "You just what? Huh? Wanted to see how broken I would've been without you? Wanted me to see how I don't want to live without you? Well you got your wish! Mission accomplished" I scoff, turning to leave and he stays frozen in place, this time letting me go. 

Jimin chases after me, begging to let him give me a ride home which I agree to because honestly I want to get out of here as soon as possible. Leaving behind that fucked up charade he pulled and made everyone play into. 

~~~~

"He never meant to hurt you you know?" Jimin says once he pulls up to my apartment complex. "Well he sure as hell has a funny way of showing it" I scoff, reaching for the handle to open the door. "He just doesn't want to lose you. I know he's been trying but he doesn't know what else to do" Jimin continues, leaving me leaning back into my seat again, knowing that he won't be letting me leave that easily.

"So his solution was to scar me for life?" I say, cocking an eyebrow at him and he turns away, guilt written all over his face. "Was everyone in on it except for me?" I question and he cringes before nodding his head slowly. "Great, just great" I mumble, opening the car door and slamming it behind me. 

"Just hear him out, please" is Jimin's last sentiment but I don't give him an answer as I turn and make my way to my apartment. If he thinks he's getting another chance after he's pulled a stunt like that then he's even more delusional than I thought he was. 

~~~~

Clearing my head is proving to be a lot more difficult especially when Jungkook's been blowing up my phone ever since I left. I don't understand how he could possibly think pulling a prank like that would make me want to take him back. He's just grasping at straws at this point but I guess I'm partially to blame since I really didn't give him a chance to say his piece. 

If I give him a chance now he's gonna think shit like that works on me but maybe I should just scold him and make it clear that that's not gonna get him anywhere with me. I groan and throw my head into my hands, sitting on the couch and stressing about what my next move should be and when I hear his all too familiar knocks on the door I know that I've run out of time. 

"Come in" I call out, full well knowing he still has his key on him and so I'm met with the sound of him unlocking the door before closing and locking it behind him, making his way into the apartment and onto the couch as carefully as he can. Doing whatever he can to keep me from blowing up on him. 

"Why would you do something like that to me" I say quietly after we've sat in silence, close to tear again with all the events of today and last night running through my mind all over again. "I'm so sorry Noona I just, well I didn't know what to do. After last night I was going insane. I was running out of ideas and so I stupidly thought of this plan at like three am and... I guess you know the rest of it" he trails off, full on admitting to his stupidity. 

"Anything decided at three am is probably a bad idea" I scoff, now understanding his mindset. He nods before hanging his head in shame, continuing to realize how idiotic this whole train wreck was. "What I did was stupid and insensitive and traumatizing and I apologize. I had no intention of hurting you" he says, placing his hand on top of my knee in an effort to show sincerity. 

"I know you didn't" I mumble, getting up from the couch and walking out onto my balcony, gazing up at the night sky. I take a few deep breaths to clear my head and calm my nerves before bothering to say anything else. 

As soon as I open my mouth though I'm met with two strong arms wrapping around my waist from behind and a head balanced on top of mine. "I'm so sorry Noona" he whispers, voice cracking, almost as if he was crying which from a few moments later after feeling a tear drop fall on my head I come to realize that he actually is. 

I turn around in his hold wordlessly and grasp onto him, holding him as close as I possibly can while we both cry, needing each other to really be able to heal. "Can we please talk now?" he asks and I nod my head into his chest before letting go and taking his hand while guiding us both over to the couch. 

"I just want you to know that I've thought a lot about what you said about me not being here or spending time with you and I've started to realize that I really have been distant. I haven't been taking time to appreciate you or love you so I just want to apologize for that. After what you said I started to realize that your love languages might be physical touch and quality time and I have fallen short on both sides. Now that I've realized that I'll pay closer attention to making sure your needs are met because I never want you to feel unloved by me. Ever" he says, squeezing the hand that he's still holding before continuing. 

"I know I've been busy on set with these last few episodes being filmed but that's still no excuse for not being here and I know that. I just have such a work minded attitude that I forget about the rest of my life sometimes and I know that a lot of that falls on you. If you give me the chance I really want to change and love you right this time. The way you deserve to be loved because if I could I would devote all of my time and attention to you. Every hour, every minute, every second because I never want to lose you. I don't want to give up on us" he says and I look up from my lap to see where our hands are connected when I feel a teardrop fall on them. 

"What can I do? What can I change to make it right? I'll do anything just please, don't leave me" he says. I look up at him and see a brilliant galaxy in his eyes, glassed over with crystal clear tears and my heart just breaks at the sight of him. 

I didn't realize until now just how hurt he might've been by this breakup too. I never wanted to acknowledge how heartbroken he looked every time I rejected him because I was too focused on me and my feelings. 

"Baby I'm sorry" I let out through choked sobs before pulling him in and resting my forehead against his. "I'm sorry I didn't even think about how this might've been hurting you too and I just, I want us to be together. I won't leave you Jungkook I promise" I sob and he pulls me in closer and smashes his lips against mine, kissing away our sorrow and pain and frustration and everything in between. Mending the shattered pieces of our hearts and making them one. 

Friday / Sunday Series Masterlist

Taglist: @jkslipppiercing @trina864 @kaitieskidmore97 @goddesofimortality @coolbluedude @00frenchfries00 @bangtans-momma @coralmusicblaze @pastelpinkjoon @joonwater @marvelbun @j3nni-rs @evidive @beomieboi @forevrglow @jesssssmaybankk @teugiie @chaconnelatte @whoa-jo @snehal @xumyboo @mindurbuzznezz @diorh0seokie

Join my Taglist!

Feel free to fill out the form or just comment on any of my fics to be added :)

[live-laugh-lenney]

omg i’ve just had the sweetest thought😭

arthurtv letting his gf sit on his lap during their streams together and just playing video games together and being all cute

please, this is adorable! i think i have a small blurb on here somewhere that has a really small scene where she goes and sits on his lap during a filming session...

newbie.

that's what her friends called her whenever they were on a stream on discord during a gaming session. even though she'd been streaming and gaming for a few months now, and knew the ropes on when the best time was to stream for her followers and what games they would enjoy seeing her play, the nickname stuck.

before she met arthur, she worked a normal 9-5 job in a local shop that was a short walk away from her london flat, getting up early in the mornings with a routine planned out for her entire day. but the more and more she was seen in arthur's videos and the more she was featured in his vlogs and the more she appeared on their friends' youtube channels, the more people wanted to see her doing her own thing.

so she took up streaming, where she held gaming nights with the two arthur's and george and chris and where she held nights where she would just waffle about her life to the camera, just to get a feel for it. to see whether she enjoyed it. to see whether it took off or whether it wasn't worth the hassle in changing to her career. coming home after a busy day at work, having dinner, before she disappeared to sit in front of her computer for a couple of hours.

george let the nickname slip.

once.

during a game of fortnite because it was a game highly requested by her followers to play in a squad match with her friends - to the point where she would even venture out of her circle and play with some of her followers who requested a chance to be in her team. and she was terrible at it; she claimed any form of shooting game or games that required skill were never her forte and that she was simply doing it for the entertainment factor as people loved to see them all in a joking manner with banter being thrown around.

and it stuck.

she couldn't shake it off, months later. not that she minded, at all. she found it quite endearing and sweet how she was loved and welcomed into arthur's circle with wide-open arms by his best friends, like she'd always been a part of something special, as if she'd known them her whole life. because the last thing she ever wanted was to be placed as an outsider by his friends, know as just 'arthur's girlfriend' who led her own life and never involved herself as a part of their group or was never included in their plans.

they loved her, and respected her, and that was all that mattered.

and they'd been her biggest supporters from the moment she chose to make streaming and content creation her new career path. they were with her the moment she quit her job, they helped her to create her own gaming setup in her spare room, and they gave her tips and pointers on making videos and editing, giving her as much help as they possibly could to kickstart her new start. and she was incredibly thankful for all of them.

there was something she loved about making money off of having fun with her friends, her boyfriend and her followers. and, as time passed, she felt lucky to have been given the platform she had been given and never took it for granted.

"i'm going to save the last two episodes of this story for the stream tomorrow," yn says to the camera propped up before her, suddenly feeling the hefty weight of the headphones sitting upon her head and she could feel her ears getting hot from the padding, "i think we did good tonight, we completed almost all of it in two hours."

she watched arthur play a couple of episodes of lego star wars on a stream, not too long before, and she found something therapeutic about re-completing a game that she had already played before. how she used to love playing it when she was younger and that it was something nostalgic for her... so she'd asked him to show her how to stream herself playing it which he had no issue with doing.

"i can smell dinner, i think arthur's cooked for me," yn grins at her screen's monitor, her belly rumbling from the wafting scent of some form of seasoned meat in the air, "he's a cutie. in case you haven't realised, this isn't my usual setup."

she took a look behind her and, if people were clever enough, they'd see arthur's setup just behind her in his own spare room.

"arthur created a little space for me in his office so we can game and film videos together sometimes," she grins widely, reading all of the sweet comments that came through on the screen; some vibing with her and how cute arthur could be to others sending in games for them to play together, "he said he had a surprise for me when i came over tonight and he showed me this. i could have cried on the spot."

her eyes glazed over the comments, flowing in constantly, and it was hard for her to keep track of what people were saying.

"maybe we'll do a little setup tour for my youtube," she suggests and shrugs at the camera with a nonchalant grin on her lips, "maybe it'll be with you guys in the next couple of days. maybe not. you'll just have to wait and see."

she closed the game from her monitor and let a blank screen fill the space, her own face appearing in the bottom corner as she prepared to close down the stream for the night.

"same time tomorrow, troops. i'll see you then. love to you all," she blew a kiss to the camera and waved, "bye!"

she made sure everything was closed down before she stood to her feet, sliding her headphones off of her head and hanging them up on their little stand beside her screen, stretching out her back from the aches and the cricks that were forming from her hunched position over the last couple of hours. she tucked her chair back underneath her desk and grabbed her water bottle before leaving the room, into the open space of his living room, which was filled with the smells of something delicious.

she noticed the table was set with plates and cutlery before she saw him standing at his kitchen island, dishing everything into bowls so they could help themselves to however much they fancied that night, pan in his hand as he scooped beef strips into a ceramic bowl.

"good stream?"

"the best," yn grins widely as she took her seat at the table, "we hit 2k viewers about an hour ago."

"oh, that's brilliant," arthur gasps proudly and he supports the most genuine smile on his lips, looking at her as she grins proudly, "i told you you'd get there eventually."

"they loved the setup, too," she smiles, watching as he set the pan down in the sink before he picked up the plate of wraps and the bowl of beef strips, leaving behind the salad on the bar that he was going to go back and pick up once he set his full hands down on the table, "i might have to stream here more often now."

"that was the plan," he admits, setting the bowl and the plate down before he went back to the breakfast, not without passing her by and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, "i'm really proud of you."

"couldn't have done it without you," she says.

he sits down at the table beside her, both of them in a position to see the sun setting over london, painting the surface of the thames with oranges and pinks, the last of the sun shimmering on the windows of the buildings opposite.

"i've got a video to film tonight, do you fancy being a part of it? could do a watch-along together," he suggests, filling up a wrap with beef and some salad, wrapping it all up with a fajita-style fold before he took a hearty bite from the top, "people have been asking for you to make another appearance."

"only if you're fine with that," she says, following his actions as she filled her own wrap up, "what are you watching?"

"it's just a short video from reddit about nature and animals," he says and she laughs softly, "what?"

"nothing, i just love your little fascination with the animal kingdom," she admits and he blushes, looking down at his plate, "it's cute. i find it fascinating when you talk about anything like that. all the facts you tell me. it's like having my own walking, talking encyclopaedia."

and when it comes to filming, she finds comfort in sitting closer to him as they watch the reddit videos together. she's wrapped in one of his throw blankets, in her comfiest clothes (which was a tee from his wardrobe and a pair of black cycling shorts peeking out from the bottom), settled on his lap with his arm wrapped around her waist to keep her steady on his thighs.

"an orca slapping a dolphin straight out the sea," he reads from the screen and, as the two of them watch nature take its course, they're both completely enamoured by the scene before them, "oh, jeez. the amount of air that thing gets is insane."

"they're the bullies of the ocean," yn adds and she remembers arthur saying something like that previously, when they'd been cuddled up in bed with a documentary about the ocean playing as they wound down for the night, "i bet that was an incredible thing to witness happen though. being that close to a dolphin seems amazing but to be that close to an orca, too? it's a bonus, a two in one special."

"have you ever seen a dolphin?"

she shakes her head and cranes her head to look at him, "never. it's on my bucket list though. that and to see the whales off the coast of gibraltar."

"maybe we'll take a trip," he says, "one day. i think i'd love to see that, too."

she leans back a little more comfortably on his lap, her back resting against his front as she brings her knees to her chest, tightening the blanket around her body to keep her from being too exposed to the camera and to keep her a little warmer, his arm helping to bring her closer to him.

"that was probably his killer instincts coming out though," yn explains and arthur cocks an eyebrow, confused, at her, "what?"

"they don't eat dolphins?"

"they do," she nods and he's genuinely surprised by her little bit of knowledge on orca's and their food chain, "they don't just eat seals and penguins, arthur. they eat dolphins and other sea creatures, too."

"look at you, eh?" he teases softly and, in that moment, they forget the camera is rolling and that they're actually filming a video for his second channel, "you're just as nerdy as me when it comes to the animal kingdom. my interests are rubbing off on you."

"i have my surprises," she grins and brings a hand up to poke a finger into his nose, "i know it might not seem like it sometimes but i am interested in your interests, silly." xx

[ineffable-endearments]

The Crow Road by Iain Banks

I finished The Crow Road and had a little time to think about it. I'll put my thoughts under a Keep Reading in case anyone is trying to avoid spoilers.

As I speculated before, I think it's likely that The Crow Road is more related to Good Omens in philosophy than in plot. I mean, it's not that the plots necessarily have nothing in common, and we could be very surprised in the end of course, but now that I've read the whole book, its philosophical commonalities with GO are both apparent and kind of inspiring. Also, if I were a writer, I'd be more interested in dropping hints about what themes are important than telegraphing my whole plot ahead of time.

So here, I will describe the book and point out themes that I believe may reappear in Good Omens 3.

This is a long post. If you read it, make a cup of [beverage of choice].

Update on 4/20/2024: I made a second post: The Crow Road and Good Omens: Further-Out Thoughts

Below are mentions of suicide, death/murder, and sexual acts.

The Crow Road centers around a character named Prentice McHoan, a university student in Scotland who starts to sort out his complicated relationship with his complicated family as he explores the mystery of his uncle Rory's disappearance. Although the book is mostly from Prentice's perspective, the narration jumps around in time with the McHoan family. There are quite a lot of important characters to keep track of; the bare-bones summary I put below doesn't even include some of the important ones. I wanted to make the summary even shorter and simpler than this, but the truth is that this book is not short or simple, and if I made the summary any simpler, it might be downright misleading.

There are at least three major cultural aspects of The Crow Road that I am inexperienced with: the overall culture in the 1950s-1980s (I was born in 1988, so of course wasn't here for the relevant decades), the international experience of the Gulf War (again, born in 1988), and the history and culture of Scotland itself (I'm USAmerican with only reading as a source). As a result, I'm sure there are important dimensions to the book that I've missed. If someone has a different perspective taking some of these things into account, I'd love to know about it.

Also, keep in mind, there is a great deal of descriptive writing in this book. There are a lot of pages about the geography of Scotland, and about Prentice as a kid, and about Prentice's father and uncles hanging out together in their youth, and about various family incidents, and about Prentice spending time with his brothers and friends. At first, these passages seem to just make things more confusing, and in my head, I accused them of being "filler." But they definitely serve a purpose. They're a way of showing and not telling the characters' attitudes and relationships to each other. More importantly, because we get to actually live these experiences with the characters, they are what give all the plot points below their deeper emotional impacts. In other words, the everyday experiences give the plot its deeper meaning. They resonate with one of the core themes in the novel: that our experiences in life, rather than any supposed existence after death, are what matters.

The Crow Road's story is like this:

Prentice is rather directionless in life, and he seems to have trouble investing any energy in his own future as he moons over his unrequited feelings for an idealized young woman named Verity. Soon, Verity ends up in a romance with Prentice's brother, Lewis, and Prentice feels that Lewis "stole" her from him. Prentice has also become estranged from his father, Kenneth, over spirituality. Prentice believes there has to be something more after death because he feels it would be incredibly unfair if people didn't get anything other than this one life; Kenneth is not only a passionate atheist, but is offended by the notion of an afterlife.

Prentice's uncle Hamish, Kenneth's brother, has always been religious, although his religion involves a number of bizarre and offbeat ideas of his own, with inspiration from more traditional Christian notions. Prentice is not really sure about this ideology, but he's willing to talk to Hamish about it and even participates during Hamish's prayers, whereas Kenneth is openly scornful of Hamish's beliefs. Hamish interprets this as Prentice being on "his side."

Prentice has a few opportunities to go back and talk to his father, and is begged to do so by his mom, Mary, with whom his relationship is still good. Mary doesn't want either of the men to give up their inner ideas about the universe; she just wants them to agree to disagree and move on as a family. Prentice says he will visit, but he just keeps putting it off and off and off.

Prentice acquires a folder containing some of his missing uncle Rory's notes in the process of hooking up with Rory's former girlfriend, Janice Rae, who seems to have taken a shine to Prentice because he reminds her of Rory. Using the contents of the folder, Prentice wants to piece together the great literary work that Rory left unfinished, which Rory titled Crow Road; however, it becomes apparent that Rory didn't turn his concepts into anything substantial and only had a bunch of disconnected notes and ideas. He hadn't even decided whether Crow Road would be a novel, a play, or something else. The few bits of Rory's poetry for Crow Road read are bleak and depressing.

Prentice also spends a lot of time with a young woman named Ash. They've been good friends since childhood and seem to have a somewhat flirtatious dynamic now, but they aren't in a romantic relationship; mostly, they drink and hang out together. Ash tells Prentice bluntly to get his life back on track when she finds out he's failing at school, avoiding his family, and engaging in shoplifting. She is a voice of reason, and when Prentice insists to her that he's just a failure, she reminds him that actually, he's just a kid.

Prentice's efforts to figure out Rory's story or location stagnate, and he continues to fail at school and avoid his father. He then receives word that Kenneth was killed while debating faith with Hamish. In fact, Kenneth dies after a fall from a church lightning rod, which he was climbing in an act of defiance against Hamish's philosophy when it was struck by lightning; Hamish is convinced that Kenneth had incurred God's wrath. Ash is there for support when Prentice finds out about the death.

With Ash's help, Prentice returns to his hometown again to help manage Kenneth's affairs. Prentice speaks with a very shaken Hamish, who is handling Kenneth's death with extreme drama and making it all about his own feelings. Hamish tells Prentice that Kenneth was jealous that Prentice shared more in common with Hamish's faith than with Kenneth's lack of faith. However, this isn't really true, and as he contemplates his father's death, Prentice begins to internalize one of the last things Hamish reported that Kenneth had argued: "All the gods are false. Faith itself is idolatry."

As the chapters go on, Prentice is compelled by some of the meaningful items related to Rory that he discovers in his father's belongings. He gains a renewed sense of purpose trying to solve the mystery of where Rory went and what happened to him. Among the interesting items are an ancient computer disk of Rory's that Prentice can't access with any equipment he can find; Ash uses her connections in the US and Canada to find a computer expert who can finally open the files on it. This takes quite a while, since the disk has to be mailed and Ash's connection is investigating the disk only in his free time.

Prentice also discovers that his feelings for Verity have changed. He no longer feels angry with Lewis for "stealing her." At first, Prentice's narration describes this as his feelings "cooling" as a result of the trauma of losing his father, but interestingly, this soon means Prentice gets to know Verity as a sister-in-law without getting caught up in jealous romantic feelings. Verity gets along well with the family, and Prentice is actually happy to discover that she and Lewis have a baby on the way. Prentice's relationship with Lewis improves greatly as well, partly because he is no longer jealous and partly because he realizes he does not want to lose Lewis, too.

Ash's connection who was looking at Rory's computer disk comes through and sends the printed contents of the files to Prentice. The files reveal to him that Rory likely knew Prentice's uncle, Fergus, murdered his wife by unbuckling her seat belt and crashing their car. Rory had written out a fictional version of events and considered using it in Crow Road. I'm not clear on exactly how certain Rory was about Fergus's crime, or whether Rory would have intentionally reported Ferg, or whether Rory even had enough proof to publicly accuse Ferg of murder, but people would likely have connected the dots in Rory's work and become suspicious of Ferg. For this reason, Prentice believes Ferg murdered Rory as well.

Prentice confronts Ferg. He doesn't get a confession and leaves Ferg's home with no concrete proof of anything; Ferg denies it all. But Prentice is soon physically assaulted in the night, and it seems Ferg was almost certainly the culprit, because he hadn't been home that same night, and he had injuries (probably from being fought off) the next day. A day or two later, Ferg's body is found unconscious in the cockpit of a plane, which crashes into the ocean. It's uncertain whether this was a suicide, but Prentice suspects it was. Rory's body is then soon recovered from the bottom of a waterway near Prentice's home, where Ferg had sunk it years ago.

As the mysteries are solved, Prentice realizes his feelings for Ash are romantic love. However, it's too late, he thinks, because Ash is about to take a job in Canada, where she may or may not stay. Prentice also hesitates to approach her because he's embarrassed about his previous behavior, venting all his angst about Verity and his father. He isn't sure she would even want to be in a relationship with him after that. But the very night before Ash leaves, she kisses Prentice on the cheek, which leads to a deeper kiss. They finally connect, have sex, and confess their mutual feelings. Ash still goes to her job in Canada, but says she'll come back when Prentice is done with his studies that summer.

The relationship's future is somewhat uncertain because something could come up while Ash is in Canada, but Prentice is hopeful. The book ends with Prentice getting ready to graduate with his grades on track as a history scholar, fully renouncing his belief in an afterlife while he acknowledges the inherent importance of our experiences in our lives now, and enjoying his time with Lewis and Verity and his other family members.

What's the point of all these hundreds of pages?

Well, look at all of the above; there's definitely more than one point. But the main point I took away is that we get this one life, with our loved ones in this world here and now, and this is where we make our meanings. There is no other meaning, but that doesn't mean there's no meaning at all. It means the meaning is here.

It's not death that gives life its meaning. It's the things we do while alive that give life its deeper meaning.

The Crow Road is described (on Wikipedia) as a Bildungsroman, a story focusing on the moral and philosophical growth and change of its main character as they transition from childhood to adulthood ("coming-of-age novel" is a similar term that is interchangeable, but more vague and not necessarily focused on morality/philosophy). And, indeed, all of the plots ultimately tie into Prentice's changed philosophy.

After his argument with Kenneth, Prentice feels childish and humiliated, and as a result, he refuses to go back home, which leads to a spiral of shame and depression. Kenneth dies and Prentice realizes it's too late to repair the relationship, which also leads him to realize it's what we do in life that matters, and that therefore, his father's argument was correct after all.

At the end of the novel, Prentice outright describes his new philosophy. However, I can't recall one specific passage where Prentice describes the process of how he changed his mind (if anyone else can remember something I missed, do let me know). There is, however, a moment when his narration indicates that Hamish seems less disturbed by his own part in the incident that led to Kenneth's death and more disturbed by the notion that his beliefs might actually be true: there might actually be an angry, vengeful God. In other words, Hamish's philosophy is selfish at its core.

My interpretation is that when his father died, Prentice realized three things: how utterly self-serving Hamish's devout faith is, how Kenneth's untimely death proves the importance of working things out now rather than in an imaginary afterlife, and how much profound meaning Kenneth had left behind despite having no faith at all. After these realizations, a determined belief in an afterlife no longer makes our lives here more profound like Prentice once thought it did.

Also, it's worth noting that this incident changes Prentice's idea of partnership, too. He loses interest in this distant, idealized woman he's been after. In love as in the rest of life, Prentice lets go of his ideals, and in doing so, he makes room for true meaning, both in a sincere familial, platonic connection with Verity and a sincere intimate, romantic connection with Ash.

But what about the sex scene?!

Yes, indeed, at the tail end of the story, Prentice and Ash have sex and admit they want to be in a relationship together. Prentice's narration describes them sleeping together and having intercourse not just once, but many times, including some slow and relaxed couplings during which they flex the muscles in their private parts to spell out "I.L.Y." and "I.L.Y.T." to each other in Morse code. This is relevant because earlier, they had been surprised and delighted to discover that they both knew Morse code; it isn't a detail that came from nowhere.

I didn't get the impression that this scene was trying to be especially titillating to the reader. It was mostly just a list of stuff the characters did together. I felt the point was that they were still anxious about being emotionally honest, a little desperate to convey their feelings without having to speak them out loud, and awkward in a way that made it obvious that their primary concern was the feelings, not the sexual performance. They cared about each other, but they weren't trying to be impressive or put on a show; contrast this with previous scenes where Prentice would act like a clown in front of Ash to diffuse his own anxiety. I've always thought that being able to have awkward sex and still enjoy it is a good sign.

Okay, so what does this all have to do with Good Omens?

Here's where I have to get especially interpretive. I'm doing my best, but of course, not everyone reading this will have the same perspective on Good Omens, the Final Fifteen especially. I believe similar themes are going to resonate between The Crow Road and Good Omens regardless of our particular interpretations of the characters' behavior and motivations, but I suppose it could hit differently for some people.

The TL;DR: I see similar themes between The Crow Road and Good Omens in:

The importance of mortal life on Earth

Meaning (or purpose) as something that we create as we live, not something that is handed to us by a supreme being

Sincere connection and love/passion (for people, causes, arts, life's work, etc) as a type of meaning/purpose

Relationships as reflections of philosophy

The dual nature of humanity

Life on Earth as the important part of existence is a core theme in Good Omens, and has been since the very beginning. We all already know Adam chose to preserve the world as it already is because he figured this out, and we all already know Aziraphale and Crowley have been shaped for the better by their experiences on Earth. But Good Omens isn't done with this theme by a long shot. I think this is the most important thematic commonality Good Omens will have with The Crow Road. Closely related is the notion that we create our meanings as we live, rather than having them handed to us. Isn't this, in a way, what Aziraphale struggles with in A Companion to Owls? He's been given this meaning, this identity, that doesn't fit him. But does he have anything else to be? Not yet.

Partnerships as a parallel to the characters' philosophical development also resonates as a commonality that The Crow Road may have with Good Omens. Prentice's obsession with Verity goes away when he starts to embrace the importance of life on Earth and makes room for his sincere relationship with Ash. Note their names: "Verity" is truth, an ideal Prentice's father instills in him; "Ashley" means "dweller in the ash tree meadow" in Anglo-Saxon, according to Wikipedia, and "ash" is one of the things people return to after death. Prentice literally trades his high ideals for life on Earth. We see in Aziraphale a similar tug-o'-war between Heaven's distant ideals and Crowley's Earthly pleasures, so I can see a similar process potentially playing out for him.

I don't particularly recall a ton of thematic exploration of free will in The Crow Road. However, there is a glimmer of something there: Prentice feels excessively controlled by Kenneth's desire to pass down his beliefs, and part of the reason Prentice is so resistant to change is simply his frustration with feeling censored and not being taken seriously. As the reader, I do get the feeling that while Prentice is immature, Kenneth made major mistakes in handling their conflict, too. And Kenneth's mistakes come from trying to dictate Prentice's thoughts. There is likely some crossover with Good Omens in the sense that I'm pretty sure both stories are going to take the position that people need to be allowed to make mistakes, and to do things that one perceives as mistakes, without getting written off as "stupid" or "bad" or otherwise "unworthy."

Suffice it to say that the human characters in Good Omens will also certainly play into these themes, but it's hard to write about them when we don't know much about them except that one of them is almost certainly the reincarnation of Jesus. This also makes me suspect perhaps the human cast will be 100% entirely all-new, or mostly new, symbolic of how Aziraphale and Crowley have immersed themselves in the ever-evolving, ever-changing world of life on Earth. Alternatively, if we encounter human characters again from Season 1 or 2, perhaps the ways they've grown and changed will be highlighted. For example, even in real-world time, Adam and Warlock have already, as of the time I'm writing this, gone through at least one entire life stage (from 11 in 2019 to 16 in 2024). They'll be legal adults in a couple of years, and if there's a significant time skip, they could be much older. If characters from Season 1 do reappear and themes from The Crow Road are prominent, I would expect either some key scenes highlighting contrasts and changes from their younger selves or for stagnation and growth to be a central part of their plot.

The more I write, the more I just interpret everything in circles. Hopefully this post has at least given you a decent idea of what The Crow Road is like and how it may relate to Good Omens.

I'll end this post with a quotation that feels relevant:

Telling us straight or through his stories, my father taught us that there was, generally, a fire at the core of things, and that change was the only constant, and that we – like everybody else – were both the most important people in the universe, and utterly without significance, depending, and that individuals mattered before their institutions, and that people were people, much the same everywhere, and when they appeared to do things that were stupid or evil, often you hadn’t been told the whole story, but that sometimes people did behave badly, usually because some idea had taken hold of them and given them an excuse to regard other people as expendable (or bad), and that was part of who we were too, as a species, and it wasn’t always possible to know that you were right and they were wrong, but the important thing was to keep trying to find out, and always to face the truth. Because truth mattered. Iain Banks, The Crow Road

[djarincore]

Hello! I saw requests were open and thought you may like this prompt

Imagine reader was in some way, shape, or form really good at flying a ship. It doesn't matter what kind it is, they can fly it. And din and reader are being chased by pirates or something like that, and the reader takes over flying while din goes off to do something, and all of a sudden their doing Barrel rolls and death drops making all the cargo fly everywhere (it would be hilarious if this is new information to din and he didnt know reader could do this)

This is just a silly little thought i had. You can add onto it and change it however you like (if you could add like mild tension of any kind i would be very grateful!) Love ya!

-H

TAGS: slight angst, injury mention, misunderstandings?, happy ending

A/N: hi H!!!! I loved this request and I'm sorry it took so long. I got sucked into the dragon age rabbit hole and just managed to crawl out after finishing origins lol hope you enjoy it!!!

—

Din’s breathless voice came through the com, “Get the ship started.”

You could tell he was running from the sound of blaster fire. Another failed bounty, you could only assume, for the third time in a row.

Things weren't looking so good for the two of you. Your partnership with the bounty hunter started with Grogu, getting him to the Jedi safely, and with Grogu gone now, things were tense. You didn't know where your partnership stood anymore, what it meant now that the mission was done.

You bring the engine to life with the flip of a few switches absentmindedly.

When you heard the clamoring of boots against steel, you shot up from the pilot seat and took your place in the co-pilot seat. Din came in seconds later, sliding into the pilot seat and getting the ship in the air.

“Hurt?” you muttered, fingers twitching in your lap as you await an answer.

He didn't respond, but his fingers curled around the wheel.

“I don't think they're following us. I’ll be back.”

He slipped out of the chair, switching into autopilot, and the door with a slight limp, disappearing down the ladder.

You sighed. He always lets you patch him up, at least before. Was it really time to move on? Was this his way of telling you he didn't need you anymore?

In your wandering thoughts, you failed to notice the tailing ship until shots blasted past the wings of the ship. Your mind and body jolted into action, slipping into the captain's chair.

Sharp, calculated maneuvers had the ship diving and twisting to avoid being shot.

You could hear the clamor of things in the cargo hold being thrown around, including Din. He was cursing, grunting, being shoved against the cramped walls of the hold.

Eventually, you managed to lose the pirates once again, settling back into the pilot's seat and hearing Din clamor back up the ladder into the cockpit.

“What the hell were you doing?” Din snapped, spinning your chair around.

His tone made you bristle. “Saving our asses. Those pirates were on us,” you retorted.

“Yes, but your piloting was reckless. You should've called me.”

“Sorry if I'm a little rusty,” you huffed. You hadn't been able to practice your piloting skills since Din always flew. It was his ship after all, and you were always busy with Grogu to chip in. “If you don't like my piloting, then I'll go. Seems like lately, you don't need my help with anything. So, what am I still doing here?”

There it was. The topic you'd been too afraid to broach. Your throat tightened, and suddenly you realized the fatigue in your muscles pulling your body to the ground.

You're glad you don't have to see his face. The silence is enough. You had to go.

“I'm going to bed. I'm sure you’ve got this handled.” You left the pilot seat and brushed past him.

—

Sleep didn't come easy which was why you could hear Din approaching your cot. He paused at your bedside, and you could feel his gaze on your back.

You turned over and looked at him with narrowed eyes, waiting for him to speak up.

“I didn't know you knew how to pilot,” he started, easing down onto one of the crates. You picked up on the faint hiss he let out and the way his body slumped to one side.

“Well, you don't know a lot about me.” You didn't mean for it to come out so harsh, but maybe it's a truth the both of you needed to hear. When you reflected on your journey together, neither of you had ever been open to one another. As someone who only ever had themselves to rely on, being vulnerable was foreign to you. Now you were losing Din because of it.

Just when your chest started to constrict, he finally said just enough for you to hear, “I'd like to.”

Your eyes widened, your mouth moving to speak, but the words were lost. In reality, you didn’t know how to say you wanted that too.

“I don't want you to leave. We… work well together,” he confessed.

You sat up, heart hammering in your chest as you stared at him, and nodded. “Okay, I'll stay.”

There were a lot of things the two of you had to work on, but you were glad this wasn't the end.

[itsuki-minamy]

"LSW - EPILOGUE"

TRANSLATION: NARU-KUN

"Hey, Yata, did you know? Scepter 4 members live in dormitories."

That happened when he was eating with Totsuka at the bar counter. Totsuka suddenly said something as if he had always had an idea.

"What is this all of a sudden? I know... that guy told me."

Yata replied with a loud pout.

One day, half of the luggage suddenly disappeared from the room the two had been living in since the end of high school, and then moved into the Scepter 4 dorm, a statement that made him question his sanity. Was this the trick of the cat ears and earthworms?! He thought afterward as he stomped his feet.

Soon after, Yata also left that room. Every time he went to bed, he would notice the emptiness above his head and couldn’t help but feel nauseous.

"So, since it’s a dorm, does it have a dining room or something?"

"Eh? I don't know..."

"I wonder if he's eating enough food. You know, Fushimi is a picky eater, so I don't think there's much proper set menu in the cafeteria. What do you think, Yata?"

"I don't know! Why do I have to worry about the traitor's food?!"

When Totsuka continued to talk insensitively, Yata got angry and slammed his fist on the counter. The plate bounced off and the cup fell over, flooding the counter with water. Fortunately, Kusanagi wasn't there, so he was saved from punishment.

Totsuka looked surprised and took a step back. Feeling awkward, Yata looked down and pulled both fists, including the spoon in his right hand, out from under the counter.

He kicked the empty loft from below dozens of times above his head and fell headfirst onto his bed, clutching his legs and saying, "It hurts!" He yelled at himself... He just couldn't control his anger. He went crazy for a while, venting his anger outside of himself, but when he felt empty and stopped, something suddenly rose up in his throat and he felt an incomprehensible feeling of regret. Although he said he was sorry, he didn't know exactly what he was sorry for. However, for Yata, it was nothing more than a feeling of regret.

He regretted it. He grabbed a pillow and pressed it hard against his face, gritting his teeth so hard that his mouth cut and regretting it no matter what.

"Ah, if that guy changes his mind and apologizes, and says he wants to go back, we'll bow to Mikoto-san together. He's not the type to bow to anyone, so I'll bow to him, and if Mikoto-san doesn't feel satisfied unless he hit Saruhiko, then he'll hit me along with him."

"Well, if King really hits you, will Yata die?! Are you okay?!"

Totsuka was surprised at how over the top he was, so he flinched and said, "Ugh!" For Yata, coming into contact with Suoh's suspicions is scarier than any ghost story or horror movie.

"I... Still, I'm ready. I won't let Saruhiko get beaten up alone."

His voice was hoarse. However, he clenched his fist tighter, stared at the counter, and finished his sentence.

"Yeah, well, I think it's manly to be prepared for that, but isn't it a little one-sided? I wonder if that's what Fushimi wants."

"...? What do you mean? Don't say things like you already know them..."

He felt strangely angry and glared at him. Totsuka had a calm smile on his face as always.

"This is what King and the Blue King look like."

Then, he suddenly started talking again.

"It's not like they're just fighting each other like you think, Yata. Well, it seems like there's a lot going on in Fushimi's position, and it would be nice if we could talk someday... Even... If I say this now, Yata, you still don't get it, right?"

When he laughed at Yata, who asked indignantly, "Are you making fun of me?" Totsuka raised his hands in surrender and said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Well, remember what I said someday, somewhere. Even if I'm not there at that time."

"Hey, please don't say things like you're going to die someday. That brings bad luck."

When he said that in a particularly grumpy manner, Totsuka simply smiled.

++++++++++

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

No Blood, No Bone, No Ash!

As he excitedly waved his fists in the air, stamped his foot, and raised his voice, his surroundings became warm. Yata looked left and right with teary eyes.

He didn't know where they came from, but before he knew it, sparks were dancing all over the area.

It wasn't that... there was light. All around him, his friends were shaking their fists and chanting the same words in unison, and from each of their bodies light was born, like little lives separating. As if calling out to one another, the light gathered, dyeing the white landscape red as it rose into the sky covered in snow clouds.

"Ah..."

When he looked at his chest, he saw that the mark on his body was also exuding a soft red light.

Another light was born from within him and he let himself be carried away by the light of his companions.

He felt that Suoh's flame still resided deep within the mark that remained on his body. The flame filled his body with a gentle warmth. It was as if the fierce anger that Suoh had held within him as a wild king was dissipating and beginning to crumble.

"Mikoto-san..."

Following the light, Yata raised his tear-soaked face.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No Bone, No Ash...!!"

He held the spot tightly and let out a loud voice as if to let go of the emotions welling up within him.

Looking up from there, he saw a line of armored vehicles with blue markings stopping on the railing of the bridge that connects Gakuenjima and the mainland. He saw a light gently floating above the bridge, moving away from the group of lights of his companions.

Fushimi was holding the same place as Yata with his hand, looking up at the sky with a strange expression on his face, as if he had lost some of his poison.

(Oh, shit...)

Yata cursed in his heart.

Why is he remembering that now? Totsuka-san, did he know he would leave one day? Was he talking about this moment?

Now that he can't do that again, he realized that he should have taken the plunge and asked Suoh what the Blue King meant to him.

He wanted to ask Totsuka what he really meant when he suddenly said something like that and said that Yata still didn't understand, but now that he can't do that again, he realized.

It's annoying for Yata to admit that, but if there's something that can help him, it's...

He's alive. They can still meet as many times as they want, express their doubts and anger, and try to talk.

"No Blood, No Bone, No Ash! No Blood, No... Idiot Monkey! No Ash!"

He doesn't know if he heard the insults mixed with his anger, but Fushimi glared at him.

The two exchanged glances on and off the bridge.

As everyone continued to chant in unison, Yata glared at Fushimi without taking his eyes off. He raised his voice even louder, intending to smash him into the bridge. He kept screaming even when his voice was hoarse, he pounded the ground even when he couldn't feel his legs anymore, and he kept swinging his fists even when he couldn't lift his arms.