#i was torn apart between so many

[blueparadis]

bella belaaaaaaa I'm rewatching hq too but with my brother so we were discussing about our favs and i couldn't pick one. not even from one team sooooooo.... since you're rewatching hq i would like to know your fav from each team,,,, the catch? You can pick only one 😏

Alright.alrightyy. here we go.

karasuno::

Seijoh::

nekoma::

fukurodani::

dateko::

shiratorizawa::

inarizaki:: suna.

[luthienne]

hey lovely hi! I wanted to ask you something about writing. First of all i love love love the way you write matt and Frank! So on point and detailed and so well observed. I wanted to know how do you understand them i mean what are your ways to study a character?

I hope I'm making sense and im sorry for being a bother 😭 love you.

hi first of all i love you sm for this oh my god?? you're not a bother at all, i could talk about matt forever. writing him true to character is the highest compliment i could ask for 🥹

several thoughts come to mind — first i think of the characters as they are individually, then as they are tied to one another; once tied together through the threads of the story, there is no separating them. just as there is no separating the choices they make now from all the choices in the past that led up to this moment. where do the boundaries of the character as laid out in the source material brush up against the boundaries of the character as i understand them & what archetypal role are they fulfilling (if relevant).

also the mutability of the boundary between archetypes: i.e. matt descends into 'hell' to bring frank out, orpheus role; matt hears & carries everything, god-like role; matt accepts this as a call to action, hero; matt takes it upon himself to punish these 'evildoers', devil; matt takes these sins upon himself, christ figure; matt is wounded in his noble pursuit, martyr figure. & how do his roles change in relation to the characters he shares a scene with — fisk (god-like in seemingly limitless influence) / matt (hero/martyr).

what life is there for a hero outside of their duty in a story like this? what room is there for him to be human? that's what i want to know. so i take what we know from what we've been given:

matt is the son of a boxer -> he grows up with the inherent understanding that two things can be true at once: hands capable of love can also be capable of violence

matt, as a child, saves an old man and loses his sight -> he accepts at a very young age the concept of heroic acts & their consequences (inevitability)

matt’s father chooses to die a 'hero' rather than live as a flawed but present father -> better to be a hero, to live and die by those familiar consequences than to be a flawed but present person (2nd ex. of heroes and their consequences, inevitability)

matt’s next father figure is violent but it is through that violence he learns to navigate an overwhelming world -> violence = love

stick leaves, like his father left, like his mother left -> to love is to lose (inevitability)

matt is only human, after all, it's what's most compelling about him as a character. and the show really did let us sit in those long moments of quiet witness to matt's undeniable humanity. he is flawed, he stumbles in fights, he can’t catch his breath, his faith buckles under the weight of his grief; he doesn't understand how to be human, how to maintain relationships, how to reconcile the darkest parts of the world and of himself with his faith in humanity and belief in redemption. the world is overwhelming to him on every sensory level. every touch is a modified blow? he lives that. he looks outside of himself for light (foggy, faith). when he reaches his breaking point, he breaks rather than turn to the people he loves because of the lessons he internalized as a child. stick left because matt loved, despite everything. despite everything, his love > his rage (bc his rage is his grief & his grief is another face of his love).

even after foggy finds out matt's secret life of physical violence, he still refers to him as "my soft-hearted partner" because it's true, matt cannot help but love & recognize humanity in others. it's because of this that he feels called to balance two unsustainably contradictory lives: using his voice to fight for redemption in court; taking it into his own hands when the law fails. taking their blood onto himself, by himself.

and that is the only touch he allows himself to experience—violence. blood on his knuckles, in his mouth, in his throat. and when his body is torn open and his secrets bared through his wounds, we get another glimpse into the reality of heroes and their consequences. foggy is not treated as an audience stand-in to giddily marvel at matt's abilities and how cool they are, he's heartbroken. he’s fucking devastated. his best friend is bleeding out on his apartment floor. he doesn't want matt to die. he doesn't want matt to be daredevil, he doesn’t want matt to be a hero — because foggy, more than anyone, understands matt's humanity and mortality. and foggy, more than anyone, selfishly wants matt to be his friend first. let hell’s kitchen take care of itself. why should matt die for a community that doesn’t love him like foggy loves him? that doesn’t know him like foggy knows him? he knew matt before he became a story. their time at columbia grounds their friendship & grounds matt to a life that is as close to normal as any comicbook story. they stay up late studying, they drink a little too much, they live together and achieve a kind of domesticity that comes easy to foggy but utterly incomprehensible to everything matt knew before foggy. we see a glimpse at a life with foggy that represents a gentle kind of safety and happiness — everything matt has been denied in his life until then. everything that the momentum of the story demands matt cannot keep (as hero).

and then there's frank. composed of rigid codes and immovable beliefs, just as much as matt, but on the other side of the line matt has drawn in the sand. that line represents matt’s faith in humanity and belief in redemption. despite living the worst of it, despite bearing the brunt of it. matt can't lose frank because matt never had frank; and yet matt and frank hold an inherent understanding of one another that no one else can. two sides of the same coin: unwavering & fatal sense of duty that walks them in a winding but inevitable line toward their respective fates; acceptance of the roles life has given them in what life has taken from them. it's not that they want to die, it's just that they’ve lived so long in the depths of their own private grief that they can’t see living outside of them.

so of course foggy doesn't want to matt to be a hero because there is no story where the hero comes home unscathed, there is no story where the hero is not brought to his knees. to love matt is to accept he could lose matt. either through death or through his inevitable transformation into something foggy may not recognize.

(now matt's unwritten rules by which he lives are bleeding into other characters' lives, consequences spiraling outward & outward)

a perilous thing began with wanting to explore this idea: a story that revolves around the moment when the hero is brought to their knees (figuratively & literally) that marks the separation of who they were before and who they must become after (transformation), if there is to be an after -> internal vs external consequences; forced passivity; how does the hero come back from that & who is he if/when he comes back from that. is he recognizable? i also wanted to look at the hero & the story through someone else's eyes, someone who could be more objective than me, more objective than foggy (whose love for matt clouds his observations, as it did in light perception). and who could objectively understand matt's actions & motivations better than frank? the anti-hero and matt's foil.

so i first look at the character through the lens of the story that’s been told and then the story i want to tell, i look at him through the lens of other characters and i assemble a picture from there. i look at matt through the events of his life, through his relationship with violence & his relationship with his very mortal body. unlike other superheroes he is not invincible, he is not bulletproof, he is not capable of flying, or softening a long fall; he is not capable of throwing his adversaries across a room, he is barely capable of saving himself from his own self-destructive choices. he has a damaged & unbearably human body. everything he can do he has fought tooth and nail for. he doesn't have superpowers like telekinesis or lasers that come out of his eyes; he has loss, he has grief, he has rage. we can all relate to that. he has a voice that is capable of giving a second chance to others (in court) but he lives and dies a thousand deaths inside of the silence at his core he can't find his way out of. his inability to communicate his grief or desires in a bearable way.

perhaps he finds redemption through saving others because he doesn't believe he, himself, is otherwise worthy of redemption. if he did, he would relinquish his duty as hero, he would live a quiet & happy life of domesticity with foggy. perhaps in another world he does. he lays down his mantle, or he lives in a world where he never had to take it up. he's just matt, foggy's soft-hearted partner.

[starbuck]

by far my WORST ~mental illness symptom~ is being unreasonably sensitive about being reprimanded for something i didn’t do… someone will make a general criticism aimed at no one in particular and my brain is like “i don’t do that” and i have to be like “okay, so they’re not talking about you” and my brain’s like “no, you don’t understand, i DON’T do that!! how dare they say that??????” and i’m like “okay, but some people do do that and they’re allowed to make that criticism” and my brain’s like “but i DON’T, tho!!!!!!! why do they want me to die???????” and i’m like “YOU LITERALLY AGREE WITH THIS POINT, WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?????????????”

[crown-ov-horns]

Ch. 2 of And the Sea became Blood will probably take it's time, I mean, more scenes than not are still pretty much skeletons.

But, we must appreciate a supportive brother. ❤ Especially after she called him Dr. Phil.

Also, I'm seriously thinking about Charlize Theron as Lucifer's faceclaim.

They'd look great together, no?

[buckyalpine]

I want more mob bucky teaching a shy bambi to touch him cause she’s scared and hesitant and his sweet little princess has never touched a man before, not until she met him. (Disclaimer: all consenting adults here, reader is naïve and inexperienced but absolutely wants him just as bad)

-

“Are you sure?”

“Of course Bambi” Bucky purred, keeping you in his lap while sitting in his office chair. “You’re not doing anything wrong”

“But-

Your eyes flicked to his thick erection, the bulge in his pants making your stomach flip. You’d never admit out loud how many times you’d secretly glanced over, heat pooling between your legs whenever you’d catch a glimpse of his length pressing painfully hard against his pants.

You instinctively pressed your thighs together, biting back a whimper, struggling to ignore the pulse you felt between your now very soaked folds. Your parents told you over and over again that was a no no area. No one was ever to touch you there ad you definitely were not to touch someone’s private’s.

“I was told I’m not allowed” you shyly whispered, blinking innocently.

“Not allowed to what” Bucky smirked, knowing what you were talking about but he loved to make you squirm, “what are you now allowed to do baby”

“Touch-touch you there” you stuttered out, avoiding his darkened gaze.

“Awww princess, but daddy gave you permission, remember?” His nose nudges against your cheek, “I told you you’re allowed to touch me right here baby”

He guides your hand down to his clothed cock, letting you feel how hard he is for you. He presses your shaky palm against his length, holding it there while your fingers twitch with uncertainty. What if you did something that hurt him accidentally? Bucky could see the wheels in your head turning, tilting your face to kiss your lips.

“You won’t hurt me Bambi” he cooed, working at his belt buckle, letting it hit the floor before pulling his cock out. He was so thick and leaky, his silky pink tip wet with his arousal.

“But daddyy” you whined, worried you’d do something wrong, too nervous to touch him there. “That’s- we’re not allowed to touch that place, it’s your p-

“I’ll teach you, Y’know it feels good when you touch me there, C’mon, daddy’s cock is so hard baby, stroke it better, it’ll make me feel good” He’d told you countless times he’d love when you play with his cock and no one else but you is allowed to anyway. Only his Bambi can see and touch him there. You let him wrap your hand around this throbbing length as he guides your hand up and down while keeping you on his meaty thighs, the warm skin of his cock pulsing with each stroke.

“Fuck bambi” Bucky moaned, his head hitting the head of the chair, thrusting his hips up while he helped you jerk his cock, loving the way your eyes were fixated on his length, experimentally gripping him harder, "That’s it babygirl, stroke it nice and hard”

You whimpered at his words, the combination of his heavy breaths and raspy moans making that spot between your legs throb. Which didn’t go unnoticed by him the slightest. He let go of your hand letting you take over for a bit before moving you off his lap to stand between his legs.

“Daddy?- before you could finish, he hushed you, lifting you with ease to sit on his table in front of him. “Daddy, what are you-

“Shhh baby. Why are you all squirmy, hm? Are you all wet now Bambi?”

You whined in response, torn between wishing he’d do something and feeling conflicted over if this was okay. Bucky kissed up your thigh, sensing your hesitation.

“You’re not doing anything wrong baby, let me see princess” he moved you to lie down on his table while he spread your thighs apart, pulling up the dress of your skirt to reveal your cotton panties. “You’re such a good girl” he whispered, rubbing the soaked material up and down the middle of your clothed cunt.

“You made a mess in your panties baby” Bucky smirked, pushing them aside, the sight of your soaked folds too much for him to bother with restraint. He needed your pussy fully exposed to him, pulling them down your legs and shoving your thighs apart. "Look at that Bambi, my poor baby is soaking"

You pouted at him while he groaned at your sweet scent, leaning down to part your folds, pressing a soft kiss right onto your clit making you gasp. His warm lips were soft on your most sensitive parts, the sensation addicting as he kissed you there again. "Your little button is so precious baby, are you gonna let daddy play with you there?"

"P-please" you nodded, choking on your words when he sealed his lips around your bud, suckling with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the table.

He's actually such a menace though. Cause imagine he gets you to touch his cock whenever he wants. Doesn't matter where you are or what you're doing. He'll push his hips forward letting you know how hard he is for you, pulling it out and helping you stroke him till he's cumming all over your hand. You're always so shy about it and he gets off on the way you try so hard to not stare even though your mouth is watering.

He plays with your clit like its his own personal toy. Whenever you're in his lap, he's sneaking his hand into your panties, rubbing lazy circles around your silky skin. Sometimes its not even fast enough to make you cum. He just loves the moans you make when he's touching you somewhere no one else is allowed to, rubbing your most intimate parts like he owns you.

Imagine the day he lets you to put your mouth on him. His precious Bambi scared to suck cock but he's there to help her, parting her little pouty lips to slip his swollen tip till it hits her throat.

Don't even get me started on the day you first have sex. How much he's gonna coddle you in bed, reassuring you theres nothing dirty about the fact that his dick is stretching your cunt apart, all while playing with your clit making you squeal. Theres nothing filthy about how much cum he's going to flood you with. Nothing debauched about the way his heavy balls hit her ass or about the way it all feels so good, he's gonna fill you up again.

"D-daddy, are you sure?"

"Very sure Bambi, you're still my good girl"

After all how can something that feels this good be wrong?

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Him (Them)

( So I decided 'fuck it' pitch pearl babyyy, I've seen other people do this ship and decided well why the hell not right. Anyways have fun!)

~

Phantom and his council were finally in the end processes to a peace treaty with Earth,

As years went on from what was once only the USA with their Ecto-Acts got worse. The GIW began opening in other countries without them truly realizing what they were allowing, until the Infinity Realms were at the point of declaring war on all of Earth itself.

The only reason that managed not to happen was because of Phantom finally being able to contact the Justice League and sit them down to have an actual conversation about everything that was going on.

That's where they were right now the world leaders, the 3 founders of the JL , and High King Phantom with his council arguing back and forth the peace treaty.

Phantom turned as one of the men stood up

" And just how are we supposed to truly trust you and yours to not take over or cause harm to our people?"

Others began chiming in, arguing that there was no true guarantee in what Phantom was saying.

Until a voice towards the back called out an idea

" Marriage! To truly unite our worlds in peace King Phantom must marry one of our own!"

Phantom subtly tensed the idea of a loveless marriage to a complete stranger made his core tremble with rage.

He glanced around seeing the looks of the people around him, he saw their greed for his power and status, their point for the marriage would be to control him or at least give them an advantage.

Phantom tuned out the arguing between the JL and the rest.

Thinking of what to say to get out of this situation without risking the treaty.

Snapping back to attention holding back a sharp smirk.

" Gentlemen if what you fear is the safety of your people then do not fret I have protected and saved your people and world since my creation, as for your request of a marriage to unify our world then I have wonderful news for I am already married to one of your people and even have children with him."

Phantom looked at the shocked faces around him, a couple grimacing or frowning at their missed opportunity to have control and access to him by one of their chosen.

A rather stupid man for what else could he be with what he said next.

" Then divorce him and marry someone that we find more suitable!"

Phantom's form distorted around him as he processed what he had just heard.

" Divorce? You wish for me to Divorce my husband, the one who I cherish above all else, the one I have shared my core the very being of myself with. The one who I gave my very being and soul to create our children. The one who is half my being, the one who if not for him we wouldn't be speaking at this moment because it was only his word that kept me from declaring war on your world."

"Make no mistake I do wish for peace between our worlds, many of my people are from this world and would like to continue to stay or visit especially for their loved ones, and I would like that for them without the danger of being hunted and torn apart."

"For if I wished war your planet would not stand a chance for what is a few million of your soldiers compared to my infinite soldiers that only would continue to grow as yours died."

"For him I fought and won against the previous tyrant King for daring to to cause him pain, the very King who only was defeated previously by the combined efforts of the strongest in the Infinite Realms, The very same King I defeated alone."

"So please do continue talking against my husband."

"..."

"What is his name?"

"Danny Fenton."

~

Just an Idea

[bet-on-me-13]

Ghost Zone Breakout Au

So! Danny is missing. Maybe it's a Vivisection AU and he ran away, maybe he got trapped by one of his Rogues, either way, Danny is gone and his Rogues are free to spread across the planet.

Walker in particular has an interesting adventure.

After Danny trashed his Prison and broke Wulf out, people realized that it wasn't as impenetrable as he made it out to be. And what's an army of Immortal Criminals to do when given all the time in the world? They test each and every method they can to break in or to escape.

Danny's actions caused a Domino Effect that lead to Walkers Prison being torn apart from both the inside and the outside. He lost his Territory, his Power, and most of his Guards. So he decided to start again in the Mortal Realm.

And he found the perfect New Haunt.

Arkham.

He's never seen such a sorry Prison in his AfterLife (It's an asylum). Criminals breaking in and out every other week, no prisoner staying for longer than a month at most, and nobody is doing anything to fix it.

He needs to remedy this.

So one night, he and his Army of Ghostly Guards attack the Prison. They Overshadow whatever guards are on Duty, take control of the Prison Systems, and Initiate a Total Lockdown.

Walker then sends out a Message.

"People of the Mortal Realm. I an Warden Walker, the new Head of this here little Prison. We have seen how terrible this sorry excuse for a prison is, and decided to take it upon ourselves to fix it. From now on, we will be the Guards of this Arkham. Send your prisoners here, and they will stay here. Try to break in, and you will never leave. Try to force us out, and you will join our undead Ranks. This is not a Negotiation, this is not a Request, this is an Announcement. If you have a problem with this, then I will be happy for personally meet you. I am in need of new employees after all."

After this message, many tried to stop him, but none were successful. He didn't seem to understand that a Prison is meant to hold Prisoners for a determined amount of Time, not forever. Or that it wasn't a Prison in the first place, it was an Asylum to treat the mentally ill.

The Bats could do anything either. Any time they tried to take back the prison, they were beaten back by the Possessed Guards and Ghostly Guards patrolling the grounds. And they didn't want to hurt the Hostages.

They needed a solution, so they got to digging.

Apparently they weren't the only ones who were dealing with Ghost Related Issues. All across the world, powerful Ghosts were claiming large areas of land as their new Haunts, weaker Ghosts were running Rampant in the spaces in between, and JLD was being run ragged as they tried to help wherever they could.

It was a worldwide issue, and they needed to find the Cause.

After a lengthy investigation, they found that all the Ghosts originally came from one Place. A small town in Illinois where they had been trying to break into the Mortal Realm for years, but they had been stopped by another. A Ghost who protected the Mortal Realm from the powerful Spirits of the Dead.

If they had any hope of containing this threat, they needed his help. They needed to find Phantom.

[nellasbookplanet]

Book recs: Queer science fiction, part 1

There is a lot of queer sf out there, and I read a lot of sf. When I started working on this list, I quickly realized it was impossible to include all that I've read and enjoyed in one single rec post. Thus, this is the first of so far three queer sci-fi book rec posts.

A note: queer here does not necessarily mean "guarantee of an f/f or m/m ship with a happy ending", but rather simply a significant presence of queerness. Some of the books feature no romance but has a same gender attracted/trans/a-spectrum lead, or features an m/f relationship with bisexual, trans or aro/ace characters, or simply features a world-building which is heavily queer inclusive in ways that don't always compare to our own ideas of sexuality and gender. I have however disqualified works where the only queer presence is along the lines of "gay best friend" or a blink and you'll miss it confirmation that never comes up again.

Previous book rec posts:

Really cool fantasy worldbuilding, really cool sci-fi worldbuilding, dark sapphic romances, mermaid books, vampire books, many worlds: portal fantasies, many worlds: alternate timelines, robots and artificial intelligences, post- and transhumanism, alien intelligences

For more details on the books, continue under the readmore. Titles marked with * are my personal favorites. And as always, feel free to share your own recs in the notes!

The Light Brigade by Kameron Hurley*

Dietz is a soldier in the war between Earth and Mars - to travel to the battle front, she and her fellow soldiers are broken down into light to be able to quickly travel across space. But something keeps going wrong with Dietz's travels; her memories don't match up with the mission briefs, as she experiences time itself turning in on itself. Is she going mad? Or are the things she's learning skipping through time the truth - and the war that's stealing her life the lie? A mindfuck of a book that's scathing in its critique of fascism and war. Features a sapphic lead but no romance.

A Psalm for the Wild-Built (Monk and Robot duology) by Becky Chambers

Novella. Long ago, robots, upon gaining sentience, simply laid down their work and walked into the wilderness. Long after, a tea monk looking for purpose follows after them into the wilds, where they come across one of the robots seeking its own sort of answers. While not plotless, this story focuses more on character and vibes over plot. Also has a nonbinary main character and features conversations on gender between human and robot.

Meet Me In Another Life by Catriona Silvey*

Thora and Santi are strangers, brought together by a coincidence and torn apart just as abruptly when tragedy strikes. But this is neither the first nor the last time they meet - again and again they encounter each other, as friends, lovers, enemies, family, every time recognizing in each other a familiarity no one else carries. But with every new life, a mysterious danger grows ever closer, forcing them to find out the truth of their connection. This is a puzzle-box of a story that goes some entirely unexpected places in a very wild ride, featuring a bisexual co-lead.

The Archive Undying (The Downworld Sequence) by Emma Mieko Candon

In a world where AI gods sometimes lose their minds and take entire populations down with them, Sunai was the only survivor when his god went down. In the 17 years since, he has wandered on his own, unable to either die or age, drowning his sorrows in drink and men. But his attempts to flee his past comes to a stop as he is forced back into the struggle between man and machine. Featuring some pretty wild world building and narrative techniques, this book will definitely confuse you, but it is worth the experience.

The Paradox Hotel by Rob Hart

January Cole works security at the Paradox Hotel, last stop for tourists heading for the timeport, which allows them to travel to and witness any moment in time. But years of proximity to the timeport has left its damage on January, making her unstuck in time, letting her relive memories of her dead lover even as her sanity slips away bit by bit. As she starts witnessing proof of a horrible crime in the hotel that no one else can see, January must race against her own mind, a killer, and time itself to solve it before it's too late.

A Fractured Infinity by Nathan Tavares

Hayes Figueiredo is a struggling film-maker who wants to finish his documentary, whose life gets turned upside down when handsome physicist Yusuf Hassan enters his life, claiming an alternate version of him is a great inventor who’s sent a mysterious device to their universe. As Hayes gets drawn deeper into the conspiracy - and his feelings for Yusuf intensify - he has to decide just how far he’s prepared to go to win the life and the love he wants. Featuring a very gay and very morally dubious lead, this is a creative and strange read.

Bridge by Lauren Beukes

When she was little, Bridge and her mother Jo used to play a game - one where they traveled to other worlds, inhabiting the bodies of their other selves. Now Jo is dead, and as Bridge is cleaning out her apartment she finds a strange device: a dreamworm, the very thing that supposedly makes inter-dimensional travel possible. Suddenly faced with the possibility that multiverse travel is real, Bridge is struck by a different question: could her mother still be alive? Scifi spiced with a healthy dose of body horror and some absolutely wild twists, Bridge also features a bisexual lead (however this is a blink and you’ll miss it moment) and a nonbinary co-narrator.

The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (Wayfarers series) by Becky Chambers

Rosemary Harper just got a job on the motley crew of the Wayfarer, a spaceship that works with tunneling new wormholes through space. With a past she wants to leave behind, Rosemary is happy to travel the far reaches of the universe with the chaotic crew, but when they land the job of a life time, things suddenly get a lot more dangerous. A bit of a tumblr classic in its day, this is a cozy space opera with an episodic feel and vividly realized characters and cultures. While pretty light on romance and focusing found family, there is a main f/f relationship.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon

Life on the lower decks of the generation ship HSS Matilda is hard for Aster, an outcast even among outcasts, trying to survive in a system not dissimilar to the old antebellum South. The ship's leaders have imposed harsh restrictions on their darker skinned people, using them as an oppressed work force as they travel toward their supposed Promised Land. But as Aster finds a link between the death of the ship's sovereign and the suicide of her own mother, she realizes there may be a way off the ship.

Ninefox Gambit (The Machineries of Empire trilogy) by Yoon Ha Lee*

Military space opera where belief and culture shape the laws of reality, causing all kinds of atrocities as empires do everything in their power to force as many people as possible to conform to their way of life to strengthen their technology and weapons. It’s also very queer, with gay, lesbian and trans major characters, albeit little to no romance.

The Left Hand of Darkness (Hainish Cycle) by Ursula K. Le Guin

1969 classic. Genly Ai is an emissary sent to the planet of Winter, meant to help facilitate Winter's inclusion in a growing intergalactic civilization. But he's unprepared for Winter's citizens, who spend much of their time genderless or switching between genders, making for a culture wildly different from that Genly is used to.

Too Like the Lightning (Terra Ignota series) by Ada Palmer*

Centuries in the future, humanity has deliberatly engineered society to be as utopian as possible, politically, socially, sexually, religiously. Written in an enlightenment style and featuring questions of human nature and whether it’s possible to change it, and what price we’re prepared to pay for peace, this book is simultaneously very heavy and very funny, and written in a very unique style. While still human, the society presented often feels starkly alien.

The Stars Are Legion by Kameron Hurley

This book fucked me up when I read it. It’s weird, it’s gross, there’s So Much Viscera, there are literally no men, it has living spaceships and biotech but in the most horrific way imaginable. Had I to categorize it I would call it grimdark military sf. It’s an experience but not necessarily a pleasant one.

The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling*

Possibly one of the most unsettling books I’ve ever read, and definitely the most claustrophobic. Gyre, a caver on an alien planet, ventures into the dark and dangerous underground, guided only by a woman who has no compunctions on using and manipulating Gyre as she sees fit to obtain her secretive goals down in the caves.

Escaping Exodus (Escaping Exodus series) by Nicky Drayden

While my feelings on Escaping Exodus were mixed, it cannot be denied that the dynamic between the two leads and the way they go from childhood best friends to enemies on different sides of a class and power struggle is very delicious. It also features some really cool worldbuilding of living, alien generation spaceships and the human culture that has developed inside them.

The Doors of Eden by Adrian Tchaikovsky*

The Doors of Eden is something of an experiment in speculative biology, featuring versions of Earth in which various different species were the one to rise to sentience, from dinosaurs to neanderthals. Now, something is threatening the existence of all timelines, dragging multiple different people and species into the struggle, among those a pair of cryptid hunting girlfriends and a transgender scientist.

Ascension by Jacqueline Koyanagi

Ascension follows Alana Quick, an expert Sky Surgeon who stows away on a spaceship in hopes of landing herself a job. But the ship and its crew are in deeper waters than she expected, facing threats emerging from a whole other universe, all of them searching for the same person: Alana’s spiritually enlightened sister. Undeniably a bit of an odd read, Ascension is also very creative and features polyamorous lesbian relationship.

Contagion (Contagion duology) by Erin Bowman*

Young adult. After receiving an SOS, a small crew is sent on a standard search-and-rescue mission. But what they find are not survivors awaiting help, but an abandoned site, full of dead bodies and crawling with something... monstrous. No romance, but features one sapphic co-lead and one who can easily be read as demisexual (however this doesn't show up until book two, which has more romance).

A Memory Called Empire (Texicalaan duology) by Arkady Martine

Mahit Dzmare is an ambassador sent to the center of the multi-system Teixcalaanli Empire, where she discovers that her predecessor has died. Trying to protect her home, an independent mining station, from being taken over by the empire, Mahit struggles to find out the truth of her predecessor's death while carrying the voice of his ghost in her head, guiding her as best he can. Light on the romance but does feature a sapphic relationship.

The Outside (The Outside trilogy) by Ada Hoffman*

AKA the book the put me in an existenial crisis. Souls are real, and they are used to feed AI gods in this lovecraftian inspired scifi where reality is warped and artifical gods stand against real, unfathomable ones. Autistic scientist Yasira is accused of heresy and, to save her eternal soul, is recruited by post-human cybernetic ‘angels’ to help hunt down her own former mentor, who is threatening to tear reality itself apart. Sapphic main character.

Dawn (Xenogenesis trilogy) by Octavia E. Butler*

After a devestating war leaves humanity on the brink of extinction, survivor Lilith finds herself waking up naked and alone in a strange room. She’s been rescued by the Oankali, who have arrived just in time to save the human race. But there’s a price to survival, and it might be humanity itself. Absolutely fucked up I love it I once had to drop the book mid read to stare at the ceiling and exclaim in horror at what was going on. Queer in the sense that the Oankali doesn't follow human ideas of gender and relationships, which is mirrored in their romantic relationships with humans. It is, however, pretty dark, with examinations of agency and consent, so enter with caution.

Remnant by Kate Genet

One day, Cass wakes up and finds everyone else is gone. Not dead, just gone, leaving her in a world which nature starts taking back with a dangerous, unnatural speed. But as she tries to survive this new normal, Cass realizes she may not be alone after all - but who else is out there, and are they a threat?

The Scorpion Rules (Prisoners of Peace duology) by Erin Bow*

Young Adult. Featuring a dystopian future in which an AI forcibly keeps world peace by holding the children of world leaders hostage. If anyone attempts to start a war, their child will be executed. Greta is one of these children, kept in a school with others like her. But things start to change one day when a new, less obedient hostage arrives. A unique, slowburn take on the YA dystopian craze, also featuring a bisexual love triangle.

Iron Widow (Iron Widow series) by Xiran Jay Zhao

Young adult. Zetian is a citizen of Huaxia, where mecha aliens are constantly trying to breach the Great Wall. To keep them at bay, couples of men and women pilot so called Chrysalises, giant transforming robots. But the pilots are not equal - the women almost always die, sucked dry by their co-pilots. When Zetian sets herself up to become a concubine-pilot, she does so with the plan to assassinate the male pilot who caused her sister's death. Features a polyamorous main relationship.

Bonus AKA I haven't read these yet but they seem really cool:

Survival Instincts by May Dawney

Lynn Tanner has been surviving the post-apocalypse alone with only her dog for a long time, trusting no one. But when she's forced to travel the dangerous remains of New York City alongside another woman, her priorities are challenged. Is staying alone really the best way to stay alive?

These Burning Stars by Bethany Jacobs

When con-artist Jun Ironway gets her hands on possible proof of the powerful Nightfoot family, controllers of interplanetary travel, committing genocide, she has in her hands a chance of taking them and their monopoly down. But the family and their allies won't go down easily, and sends two brutal clerics to stop her.

Everfair by Nisi Shawl

A neo-victorian alternate history, in which a part of Congo was kept safe from colonisation, becoming Everfair, a safe haven for both the people of Congo and former slaves returning from America. Here they must struggle to keep this home safe for them all.

[fathomlessgaze]

artistry: you paint colors all over zayne's skin before he has to leave

very suggestive mdni + maybe some fluff+angst, zayne/reader, ~1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, making out, lots of hickeys/marking/bruises, they're both possessive tbh, an innuendo, implied to take place before medical rescue with allusions to things discussed in it but no spoilers for what happens in the card itself, allusions to foreseer lore, use of yn, pet names (my love, darling)

an: zayne in turtlenecks...the dawns shadow card......yeah...

pulling back, you take a look at your handiwork, the colors and splotches scattered over zayne’s neck. with his face tinged an uncharacteristic red and his collarbones no longer an empty canvas of pale skin, you think he’s nothing like the rumors that fly around the hospital. it doesn’t take much at all to reduce him to putty at your fingertips, so long as that person is, well, you.

you lace a hand through his hair, only further tousling the ruffled strands and causing a little groan to fall from his lips. on instinct, his hands fly to your hips, lowering your frame that straddles him to his lap. “yn,” he breathes, “please, hold on.”

he pants as he raises his lowered gaze to meet your eyes, his hazel orbs boring into your own with a sternness that makes you bite down on your lip. “just because i’m not in the hospital this week doesn’t mean i won’t be going outside at all,” he sighs.

pouting, you bring your palm to his jaw, brushing over his cheek. “i’m just…i’m gonna miss you.”

“we will see each other in a few days, won’t we, my love?” 

you drape your wrists on his shoulders and lay your head down in the crook of his neck with a quiet sigh. “i don’t like waiting…” 

there’s a quirk to his lips at your words and he turns his head to plant a kiss on the crown of yours. “it’s just a couple days, and i’m sure you have a lot of preparations to do at work in the meantime.” 

while you know you’re being petulant, you can’t help it. you think zayne and his presence have bled themselves into every part of your life and being. you can’t remember what you did before him, and knowing the frequent power outages near the mountain and both of your busy upcoming schedules, you probably won’t be able to talk much. what are you supposed to do without him? what are you supposed to do when one day feels like a year? when a week brings an air of deja vu that makes a pit form in your stomach, as if you’ve been torn apart without him beside you before?

“i guess,” you mumble, sniffling.

“don’t cry, yn,” he exhales. he brings a hand from your hip to your face, thumbing away the small droplet that falls from the corner of your eye. 

“what if something happens to you?” your murmur.  

“nothing will happen,” he whispers. “i will be okay; i have done these rescue missions many times before.”

you let out a small whimper as you kiss the corner of his mouth, letting your own linger, your breaths practically becoming his. “promise me you’ll take care of yourself.”

even though he tries his best to downplay the way your care and concern reach his heart, you know him better than that, the faintest blush of pink building on his hot cheeks. he attempts once more at a serious expression as you discuss safety, a topic he wishes you would yield more to, but alas… pondering his options, a small smirk sneaks past his attempt to put on a nonchalant facade at your words. “i will promise that…but only if you promise me the same thing first.” 

“fine.” you pout, a much quicker agreement than he was expecting. “i promise.” 

you lean in close, your small exhale lingering between the two of you before your mouths meet once more and you gently nibble on his lower lip. a small moan escapes him, vibrating through your kiss and to your own body, but even he can’t make you forget your purpose. not this time, at least.

steeling yourself, you put on a stern glare as you pull away and ignore the pang from your separation that blooms in your gut. “your turn.”

he stares with a quiet intensity as you pull away, trying to feign impassivity despite his round pupils that watch your movement carefully, giving away everything you may want to know. taking your fingers in his own, he brings them to his lips, locking eyes with you all the way. “very well then. i promise.” 

knowing him, you can predict how his business trip will begin without you there and you shoot him a pointed look. “and the first thing we’re doing when i get there is having a meal together.”

his hand reaches for your jaw and cheekbones once more, cupping your face tenderly in his large palm. “alright then.” 

when you finally are satisfied with his response, resting your head back on his shoulder, you pucker your lips to his skin once again, pressing lazy kisses along his jaw. his muscles stiffen beneath you as you continue adding new colors and marks to his skin, his head falling forward to rest on your shoulder as he caves in.

“yn,” he warns lowly, the last bits of rationality trying to claw back at what’s taken over the rest of his thoughts. “at this rate everyone will know what we’ve been up to when i get to the base.”

“good,” you hum, the vibrations echoing along his skin. “i don’t know who’ll be there.”

maybe this was always a losing battle.

“so maybe that’s what i want.”

this was definitely always a losing battle, he decides. zayne would like to think he’s very diligent in whatever he decides to put his mind to, but if there’s anything he just can’t do, at least not without extreme difficulty, it’s saying no to you, especially when you give him your signature cute little look or use some of your other equally persuasive methods. 

your eyes flicker to his before you resume your work, painting warm splotches along his neck and collarbone. “maybe everyone should know you’re mine. just in case.”  

he moans at your words, tightening his grip around your waist, but he admittedly tilts his head, giving you more room to continue your efforts. 

a beat passes before you pull away to admire the latest artwork you’ve added to the collection of marks you’ve made tonight. “you look really good in that turtleneck anyway,” you whisper, pressing one last gentle kiss to soothe the spot before moving to the next inch of his skin to tease. 

something in your words jumpstarts what’s been hiding, lying low, in the back of his mind. his gaze hardens at your words, his hands finding and squeezing your hips to still you so he can flip you both and is hovering over you. “oh, darling, you better believe i won’t be the only one who will have to cover up marks and bruises.”

sure, he’ll have to get up earlier and do a lot to hide all the work you’ve done on his collarbones for the next few days at minimum…at least until you arrive and can help him conceal all of your “art” on his skin. but there’s no way he’s going down without a fight. and when he plants his lips under your jaw, hovering dangerously close to your pulse point that thuds along to the unsteady rhythm in your ears, you know it’s over for you. it’s gonna be a long night. not that you mind exactly…

[comfortscripts]

The Way I Love You ¬ Coriolanus Snow

Plot - All you want is one night with Corio, the real him. Pairing - Young!Coriolanus Snow x Best Friend!Female!Reader Notes/Warnings - Corio is ooc in this, but the idea is that he is slightly hinged for her and he is aware of his redflags. Possessive? Mentions of deaths. Reader is lowkey just blind to Corio's darkness. First fic back so let's see how it goes! Word Count - 1,443

9pm

“You promised!”

“And when exactly did I promise this?”

He watched as her fists clenched the corners of her skirt, breath dripping with exasperation. Calmly watching from the comfort of his leather chair, nursing a glass of amber whilst his eyes followed the milky fabric adorning his best-friend’s figure. Almost 30 minutes of her attempting to convince him to leave his opaque penthouse.

“Last year, when you were too busy on my birthday, you promised me that I could choose whatever I wanted to do for one da-” Stilling her movements, frozen as realisation washed over her. “You sneaky fucker! Not once have you forgotten a promise between us.”

Corio wanted to laugh as her face scrunched with faux anger, but all he did was cock his eyebrow as a gentle smirk settled on his lips. “Of course, I didn’t forget. However, this little song and dance has been quite amusing.”

Resting his drink to the side, he rose to full height and reached his delicate hand out towards the girl. “I will agree, purely on the premise that nothing we do could harm either of our reputations.”

A smile brighter than freshly fallen snow crept onto her face.

“You have my word.”

1am

Corio may have noticed the ache in his legs if he didn’t have such a captivating distraction hanging from his bicep. After aimlessly strolling through the Capitol, the myriad of hues illuminating their faces as they spoke of the most mundane aspects of their adult lives to giggling at memories of their youth. Having known one another since the tender age of 10, there is little left unsaid between the pair. Perhaps only one thing.

“I’ve missed you Corio”

Shifting his head to where her figure was pressed against his side, their tandem steps slowed. Only those who understood the inner works of Coriolanus Snow could see the cogs turning behind those azure eyes. Flickering across her face, attempting to decode her words.

“Don’t be silly. We see each other constantly; your office is barely 20 steps from mine.”

 The young woman bit back a sigh. In all the years she had known Snow, he excelled in many things but struggled with matters of the heart. “No, I see Coriolanus Snow constantly. Future President of Panem, prodigy Gamemaker. I can barely remember the last time I had a conversation with the real you, Corio, before tonight.”

Stilling completely, allowing her arm to slip from the loop of his. It was a rare occurrence for the young man to be devoid of words, only having ever been rendered speechless by the very same woman only a touch away. In all truthfulness, he yearned for her presence. He longed for the sound of her laughter, the way her eyes sparkled with delight when indulging in dessert, her uncanny ability to understand his thoughts, and most importantly, the way she allowed him to be himself.

He missed her too.

Perhaps it was his silence, or perhaps it was the cool air that unsettled her. Bubbles of anxiety began to rise in her stomach, fearing that she had overstepped or somehow offended the blond. “I only mean that you have sides to you. Whilst I like all of them, the one I care about most is the real you. I’m sorry, but I miss my best friend.”

“I barely know the real me anymore.”

It was truth. Being betrayed by Lucy Gray, the blood on his hands, the character he has had to play since; it was exhausting. The darkness swirling inside of him corrupting his daily thoughts, paranoia and greed clouding his mind. It was all too much to expose to her.

She embodied life, a breath of fresh air in a world torn apart by capitalism and violence. Coriolanus could never understand why she cared for him, why she befriended him. But he could never jeopardise losing her. The darker side of him wishes to lock her up in the Penthouse, so her sun only shines for him. Keep away the prying eyes of men who wish to glimpse the sweetness of her smile. But alas, he cannot. An innocent fragment of his soul forbids his darkness from tainting her, even if he must create distance to do so.

“After all that has happened, the Corio you know barely exists anymore.” Those stormy eyes refusing to meet her gaze by fixating on the gleaming silver ring adoring his finger. “If only you knew, you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

The warmth of her hand sliding into his captures his focus. “If only I knew about what happened during the games? If only I knew about Lucy Gray, and those people you killed? If only I knew how dark your soul feels? I know Corio.”

Snapping to meet her gaze, he feels as if she had knocked the air out of his lungs. How could she possibly know? Why would she be standing here with him? Was she going to hold this over him? A flurry of thoughts stormed behind his eyes, as she only tightened her hold on his large hand.

“Did you really think you could lie to me? I know you better than I know myself. When you came back from District 12, I could see behind those lies you were spewing. I saw the hurt she caused, the trauma you had witnessed, and how it broke the light inside of you.”

For the second time tonight, Coriolanus was speechless. Perhaps she didn’t know whose blood coats his hands, or the exact details of what happened those years ago, but she knew enough. And she was still standing there in front of him.

“And you still care about me?”

“I will always care about you Corio.  Now come on, I want to take you somewhere!”

And with that, she pulled him further into the night.

2:45am

Neither of them had uttered a word since their conversation.

Laid side by side on the refreshing emerald blades of grass as they look towards the stars above, only their subtle breathing filling the air. Despite the silence, the interlocked fingers expressed a thousand words.

A hitched breath broke the still atmosphere of the hilltop.

“Do you love me?”

Her words stopped his heart mid-beat.

“What? Of course, I love you. You are my best friend.” His words flow smoothly, as his thoughts run erratically to concoct the perfect lie.

The grass shuffles as she turns her head to face him. “No, do you love me like I love you?”

Corio continues staring straight towards the constellations, knowing that her alluring eyes could weaken his resolve in mere seconds.

“Because the way I love you is more than someone who loves a best friend. Almost as if you are the only person who makes my heart dizzy with joy. If you don’t love me the same way, it’s okay. Just needed to finally tell you.”

The breeze acts as a ticking clock, emphasising the lack of response from the young man and amplifying the anxiety building in the woman as she faces the stars once more.

Its almost too quiet to be heard, a whisper in the wind, but she hears it clearly. “I do love you the way you love me.”

Turning in unison to face one another, his free hand reaching to caress the toasty skin of her cheek.  Gentle strokes of his chilled fingers, drawing without destination on her skin as the blond builds the courage to speak once more.

“The way I love you terrifies me. You are the only one who brings me happiness, the only one who knows my sorrows, the only one I would sacrifice for. I obsess over you. I want to hold you and protect you. I wish to possess you. All because I love you the way you love me.”

Searching his irises for any fragment of dishonesty, her smile grows as she finds none. Inching closer to the man who has held her heart for a decade, his minty breath invading her senses.

With lips mere millimetres apart, a light whisper leaves her mouth “I’ll be yours Corio, for as long as you are mine. We can possess one another.”

As if those were the only words he ever craved, he intertwined his lips with hers. Soaking in the feeling of ecstasy as his hold on her tightens. She embraced the overwhelming sensation of complete bliss, revelling in every single second as her fingers interlock with his porcelain-locks.

Her lips fit with his so perfectly, it was clear that they were made to possess each other. And now that Panem’s king had his Queen, nothing could break him.

[lustfulslxt]

Hellbent - Chris Sturniolo

summary : y/n and chris, so incredibly in love with one another, yet ruined by self sabotage.

warnings : angst, swearing, fluff, smutty, heartbreak, self-harm (if you squint)

a/n : this is the one :)) regular italics are flashbacks.

—

so who do i call now? i'd give it all now, just to be fighting in the kitchen and hearing the crash of broken dishes. thought it was bad then, this heartache is hellbent.

“Why are you pushing me away?!” She shouts, tears brimming in her eyes as the ache in her chest grows.

The two of them were everything and nothing at the same time. So head over heels for each other, but almost doomed from the start. Chris; scared to take things to the next step. Y/N; wanting nothing more than to take it further.

They were both in love with each other, but Chris couldn’t voice his concerns, instead, opted for trying to make her hate him. It was unconventional, yet it made the most sense to him. He loved her with every fiber of his being, and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. However, the thought of furthering their relationship, making it real, scared him to death. There were so many factors in which caused him to pull back. Though, things would have been better off if he had just explained his worries, he chose to make things harder than they needed to be.

Y/N loved Chris more than any and everything in her life. She loved everything about him, and she wanted to be with him, more than what she had. She didn’t just want sex and casual conversation, she wanted love and passion. She could feel it between them, the most amazing love and deepest passion, but there was still a barrier between them. It was easy for her to read Chris, well usually, but their recent encounters had thrown her for a loop. She could feel the love from him, yet the unexplainable distance he put between them and the impenetrable walls he put up only made her head spin.

“Chris.” She half sobs, after receiving no answer from him.

He can’t bring himself to look at her. He knows the sight of her torn apart will break his heart, especially because he’s the cause of their wreckage.

“Look at me.” She begs, “Please, Chris.”

He deeply inhales, his eyes frantically darting around, unable to lift his head. His heart feels heavy. He knows he has no right to be sad, considering this is all his fault, but he can’t help but feel melancholy.

The sound of loud sobs spring through the air, and the sight of Y/N falling to her knees in his peripheral causes his head to snap over in her direction. There she sat, her body shaking with every weep that left her mouth. Her rosy cheeks glisten with a tremendous amount of tears, and her lips pull into the deepest frown he’s ever seen on her. Her eyebrows are furrowed and her eyes clenched shut.

Chris can feel the lump forming in his throat as he takes in her appearance, utterly heartbroken. Knowing he’s the reason she’s so distraught brings tears to his eyes. Hurting her is the last thing he ever wanted to do. His mind is racing; he’s unsure of what to do. He wants to take her in his arms and hold her close, profusely apologizing and taking it all back. Yet, part of him feels it’ll only make it worse. Without another thought, he joins her on the floor, his arms wrapping around her as he tries to console her.

Her cries only worsen as she fights to push him away, “Why are you doing this?”

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, repeatedly, like a mantra.

Her reluctance to accept his embrace continues, only for him to try harder. Tears inevitably slip from his eyes, he hates the predicament he put them in. He can feel her struggling die down as the energy diminishes from her body. Her body still shakes with sobs, but she can no longer put up a fight against him. There they sat, her body slump against his as his arms wrap around her.

“I am so sorry, Y/N.” He mutters, his voice croaking.

A few moments go by before she responds, “I just don’t understand. Things were going so well between us, and you can’t say that you don’t feel something deep for me. I know you, Chris. We’ve spent almost every day together for the last year, I know you inside and out. But what I don’t know, is why the sudden change? Why are you pulling back?”

Again, he doesn’t answer, which only infuriates Y/N. She harshly pulls herself from his hold, turning around to face him. His face is ridden with sorrow as he looks at her with sad eyes.

“You’re giving me absolutely nothing! You’re leaving me in the dark about it, I do not deserve that. I’ve been nothing but good to you despite how you’ve been the last couple of weeks. The least you can do is tell me what changed.”

He sighs, struggling to find the right words to say. He can’t bring himself to tell her the truth, and he knows whatever he says won’t matter. She’s going to be hurt regardless. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, letting his head fall back.

“I don’t feel anything for you.” He lies through his teeth.

“Bullshit.” She snaps.

Even though she knows he’s lying, his words still hurt. She doesn’t understand why he can’t just be straightforward with her. He’s never lied to her before, why now?

“I don’t feel anything for you.” He repeats, his eyes now staring into hers, looking void of emotion.

Her heart feels like it’s shattering all over again. She’s never had to deal with this type of hurt before. She’s never felt the way she feels for him for anyone else. Despite never being in a relationship before, she knows she’s in love with him.

“Get out.”

“What?” He asks, unsure if he misheard her.

“Get out.” She repeats through gritted teeth. “Get out! Go! You don’t feel anything for me? You want to push me away? You want to call it quits? You want to leave? Then leave! Just leave, Christopher.”

He doesn’t want any of that, it’s the last thing he wants. And knowing that once he walks out the door, she’s going to spiral, makes him want to stay even more. But the whole point in him pulling back is to make her hate him, because he knows he won’t be able to leave her. He needs her to leave him.

Without a word, he gets up from the ground and makes his exit. She watches him leave, the door shutting behind him. She hopes and hopes that he’ll turn back around and apologize for everything. She hopes he’ll finally admit to her that he loves her and that he wants to be with her, but she knows it’s won’t happen. It’s done. It’s over. They’re over.

-

It’s been a week since Y/N and Chris have spoken. A week since he left. The hole in her chest only grows bigger with every passing second. She misses him so deeply. Part of her just wishes she could just go back to their last moment together. It was hard and it hurt, but she’d rather have that than nothing at all.

Going from seeing each other all the time to not having any type of communication was more difficult than she anticipated. She knew it wouldn’t be easy, but God, did her heart hurt.

Chris was in the same boat; distraught from the loss of her. He was stuck grieving their relationship and the guilt he felt was tremendous. He knew that the downfall of them was his fault, he accepted responsibility. There was nothing more that he wanted, than to go to her house and apologize, and tell her how he really feels about her. He loves her more than anything. He’s not sure he could ever not love her. Everything about her just calls out to him, he finds perfection in the simplest attributes of her being.

Leaving her behind caused him physical pain, but he couldn’t bring himself to give in. He was scared of fully committing, taking the next step with her and making it real. Although, it felt real, there was just something about giving all of himself to her that struck him with fear. Maybe it was the fact that he knew how his fans would react. They would chew into Y/N like they were starved animals and the only thing to satisfy their hunger was to eat her alive. He didn’t want to put any kind of negativity on her.

So, there both of them lay, alone in bed. Eyes glued to the ceiling, cheeks stained with tears, lumps in their throats, anxiety brewing in their stomachs, and heavy chests. Two different homes, yet exactly the same all at once. Eerie silence, so loud they can feel the echo of their painful heartbeats in their ears. The more they think back on all of their time together, and what came of them, the more frequent and louder their sobs got.

-

Chris and Y/N both lay on the couch, their legs entangled together while she rests atop of him. Their fingers are intertwined as she has her face buried in the crook of his neck. Every so often, she would deeply inhale the scent of him, feeling intoxicated by the way he smells. She can never get enough of it.

"Are you smelling me?" Chris asks with a chuckle, his chest subtly shaking with the vibrations from his laugh.

Y/N playfully rolls her eyes, moving to look up at him. "Yes, what about it?"

"Nothing." He smirks, shaking his head. "You're just odd."

"Hey!" She gasps, defensively. "You smell good. Is it a crime to enjoy it?"

He laughs once more, "A crime? No, but it's definitely odd."

"Shut up. Don't think I haven't caught you doing the same thing to me. You're not slick, Christopher."

His cheeks darken with a rosy color, warming up in slight embarrassment for being caught without him realizing it.

"You've seen me smelling you?" He asks, his voice timid.

"Please. You practically breathe me in." She teases, enjoying the state of him being flustered.

"How come you never said anything?!" Chris questions, his jaw dropped.

She shrugs, resting her head on his chest, listening to the rapid beating of his heart. "It was never that deep. We like the way each other smell, so what?"

He doesn't reply, instead, flips the two over, so that he's now on top of her. She looks up at him with wide eyes before he smashes his lips against hers, taking her in a deep kiss. Their lips move together as if it's the easiest thing they'd ever done. In reality, it probably is.

One of his hands softly grips her jaw, the other resting on the bare skin of her waist. Her hands cup his face, deepening the kiss, until he pulls away. His lips trail down her cheeks, meeting her neck with soft kisses. His nose grazes her skin, brushing over it as he takes a deep breath through it. Her sweet scent fills his nostrils, rushing him with dopamine.

"You're such a weirdo!" She laughs, pushing his face away from her.

"Hey! You said it's not that deep!" He defends.

She giggles, shaking her head, "Come here, you dork."

Her fingers softly grasp his dangling chain, pulling him into her for another loving kiss that the two of them both melt into.

-

Y/N's pillow was drenched with her tears. With every happy memory surfacing, came a thousand more tears. She was incredibly distraught. She didn't know what to do, she felt so lost. Never in a million years did she think she would lose Chris. It never even crossed her mind.

Her house was dark and quiet, the only sounds being her cries. Her fingers gripped the roots of her hair, tugging in frustration. The burning sensation couldn’t compare to the aching in her chest. Maybe on the outside, people would assume she's being dramatic and should get over herself, as well as the boy she's so bent over. But on the inside, she truly felt so utterly heartbroken. She hadn't spoken a word aloud since she told Chris to leave. It's been seven whole days since she uttered a single word.

She had no one in her life aside from Chris, his brothers, and their friends. No one has reached out to her, but she couldn't blame them because she hadn't tried reaching out to anyone either. She simply turned her phone off, attempting to shield herself from the world.

She didn't know how to cope with the loss she was feeling. She knew it wasn't good to stay in bed and shelter herself from any and everything, but she couldn't bring herself to get out of bed. All she wanted was Chris. She wanted to rewind time to go back and have him again. Unfortunately, she'd rather have their messy situation than have nothing of him at all.

Tear-stained papers were scattered throughout her sheets, handwritten notes from Chris. She reread everything he's ever wrote to her over and over again, wishing for him to say the words out loud to her. She could tell from his letters alone; he did love her. She could tell from his actions and how the way he treated her, he did love her.

So, why on earth could he not just voice it?

Why, instead of telling her he loves her, would he push her away and make her feel like none of it mattered to him to lose?

-

“Chris!” Y/N’s yells, her laughter filling the atmosphere as she runs from said boy.

The two have giant smiles on their faces, joyous sounds emitting from both of their mouths as they run around the house. A can of silly string rests in his hand, determined to empty it on her.

“I swear it’s all gone, look!” Chris fronts, attempting to sway her just to cover her in it again.

“You’re lying!” She laughs, running around the counter.

Chris catches her on the opposite side, causing her to shriek in fear. His free hand wraps around her waist, holding her close while his other hand sprays the silly string all over her. At that point, she accepts defeat and pouts at him.

“Chris.” She whines, feeling the substance coating her head. “My hair!”

The grin never leaves his face as he pulls her flush against him, one hand on the small of her back, the other hand softly grasping her chin. His eyes stare down at her in adoration, love swelling in his heart as he takes her in.

“I’ll wash it for you.” He offers, closing the gap between them.

Their lips meet, soft and tender together. She melts into the kiss, savoring the way they mold together so perfectly. Her hands trail from his biceps to around his neck, her fingers, instinctively, playing with the loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck.

Y/N pulls away, only to be met with a frown on Chris’ lips. She breathily laughs, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the direction of the bathroom.

“What are we doing?” Chris asks, following in suit.

“We aren’t doing anything. YOU, are washing my hair like you oh so kindly offered.” She grins, locking the door behind them.

He chuckles in response, immediately accepting with no hesitation. He turns the faucet on, adjusting the temperature just how he knows she likes it. While they wait for the water to heat up, he grasps the hem of her shirt and pulls it over her head, tossing it in the hamper.

The innocent look in her eyes as she stares up at him with love ridden on her face makes him feel like putty. He can’t help but capture her lips in a sweet kiss once more.

They continue to undress, discarding their dirty clothes with the rest of them. Chris helps her into the shower, joining her seconds after. He held her close, the hot water drenching both of them equally as they stood in each other’s embrace.

“I love this.” He mutters into her hair, his hands gently caressing her body.

“You love what?” She asks, looking up at him.

His beautiful blue eyes fill with admiration as he gazes back at her. His wet hair slick against his forehead and his lips a soft pink. He smiles at her, brushing the soaking hair out of her face. His touch against her incredibly tender and sweet, full of love and passion.

"Being here, like this, with you." He whispers, his voice soft and delicate, almost as if he is worried of scaring her away.

Y/N's lips pull into a rather large smile, her stomach fluttering with butterflies. His statement was so simple, yet it has her weak in the knees. She doesn't say a word, only clasps her hands around his neck and pulls his face into hers. Their lips meet in a longing kiss, both of them savoring the deep connection between the two. Chris' hands wrap tightly around her waist, tugging her against him, desperate to feel all of her.

After a moment, they pull away, breathless. She smiles up at him and lays her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat echoing in her ears. His cheek meets her hair, enjoying the feeling of her embrace. His hands run through her hair, massaging her scalp as he does so.

Suddenly, she pulls back and looks him in the eyes, "I love you."

He smiles, "I love you too."

She shakes her head, biting her inner cheek. "No, Chris. I love you. I'm in love with you."

He feels as though time stops, everything frozen around them. The running water muffles, and all he can hear is the sound of his erratic heartbeat. His eyes are wide as he stares down at her, his voice caught in his throat. He wasn't expecting this. Though, looking back, he should've realized it would be happening soon.

Her lips started falling, curving into a frown, before quickly pulling them back up in a tight-lipped smile. "It's okay."

He opens his mouth so say something, yet nothing comes out. She softly shakes her head, her fake smile growing in an attempt to reassure him, even though her heart is slowly breaking at the thought of him not loving her back. Not loving her the way she wants to be loved, the way she loves him.

"You don't have to say anything."

And so, he doesn't. He clears his throat, proceeding to wash her hair like he intended. The silence between them is loud, awkwardness filling the air. Y/N can't help but feel regret for saying those words. Although, they were nothing but true, she now feels as though she messed things up.

-

That was the beginning of their destruction. Everything changed the moment Y/N said those five little words. Chris pulled back and put his guard up. Y/N was so lost and confused, unknowing of why things changed. Using her head, she knew it was because she admitted her feelings, but her heart ached every time she attempted to understand why it changed. It was obvious to everyone that knew the two, Chris was undoubtedly in love with her. Why wouldn't he just say that?

The next couple of weeks after Y/N's confession were looming with uncertainty and inevitable ruination. Chris was snappy and seemingly far away, trying to put as much distance into them as possible. He could see what it was doing to her, and it made his chest tighten in agony. She wasn't the same happy girl she usually was. At times she would try to hide it, but he could read her through and through. She was sad.

No matter how many times Y/N tried to address the elephant in the room, Chris would always be extremely dismissive and standoffish. She could barely even get two sentences out before he was either interrupting her, or simply walking away. The pain she felt was excruciating. Every time he just left her there, she felt like he was taking her lungs with him, because she suddenly found it hard to breathe.

Chris was her person. Without him, she had no one to turn to. She couldn't reach out to anyone for advice, simply because there was no one else. She was stuck enduring the heartache he was causing, unaware of the fact that he was going through the same feeling. He didn't want to be cold towards her, he didn't want to leave her drowning in a pool of unwanted emotions, but it's what he felt he had to do.

Ever since their last communication, the skies were dark. It was as if the universe was following in suit of the two of them. The world seemed gloomy around them. Either that, or their overwhelming negative emotions clouded everything good in the world.

"Chris, bro, you have got to leave your room!" Matt's voice was heard from the other side of the locked door.

Chris doesn't respond, only continues to look off into the distance, reminiscing about the girl he loved and hurt all at the same time. His bedroom door shakes with the pounding from his brothers, both of them desperate to reach him. Suddenly, the furious knocks stop, leaving just a moment of silence before the lock clicks and the door flies open.

Chris turns his head, his dead eyes meeting Nick and Matt. The two of them look back at Chris, their faces morphing into sadness and confusion. They have no idea what's causing Chris to be so detrimental to his own health.

"What's going on, Chris?" Nick asks, "You have to talk to us. We're your brothers."

Chris can't even find the words to respond. Just by his features, Nick and Matt can see that he's absolutely devastated. However, they have no idea why. When he doesn't answer, Matt walks forward and sits beside him on the bed, engulfing him in a comforting hug. That seems to have an effect, because Chris bursts into tears, his entire body shaking as he silently cries. Nick gasps and rushes over to the other side of Chris, joining in on the embrace, desperate to help soothe the pain of his brother.

"Shh." Nick coos, "It's okay. It's gonna be okay."

Chris violently trembles, as his sobs grow louder, "I fucked up. I fucked up so bad."

"Chris, tell us what happened. We can help you fix it." Matt says.

He shakes his head, "It's too late."

Nick and Matt share looks of concern, completely bewildered by the state of their brother. He had never ever been like this before, and quite frankly, they were unsure how to handle it. They just continue to console him to the best of their ability.

“Is this about Y/N?” Nick asks, sharing another look with Matt.

“We’ve noticed she hasn’t been around this last week.” Matt adds.

Chris doesn’t say anything, so Nick continues, “Did something happen between you two? It’s not like you guys to go so long without speaking to each other.”

Chris’ cries only seem to get louder, indicating the two of them made correct assumptions. Matt rubs Chris’ back in another effort to comfort him.

“Chris, if you want to talk about it, you know we’re always here for you. No judgement, no criticism. Just here to listen, and if you want advice.” Matt softly states.

Slowly, but surely, Chris’ finally gets himself together enough to stop sobbing, however, the tears remain a steady flow. He lifts his head up, looking back and forth between his brothers with a frown on his lips.

“I told her I didn’t feel anything for her.” Chris finally admits.

“Why would you lie?” Nick questions, receiving an elbow from Matt, pulling a groan from his mouth.

“Go on.” Matt insists.

Chris sighs, tossing his head back in frustration with himself. “She told me she was in love with me the other day. I didn’t say it back.”

Nick and Matt look at one another, realization dawning upon them.

“I don’t know why, I just couldn’t say it. The words wouldn’t come out.” Chris adds.

“But you do feel the same, right?” Nick asks.

Chris nods, “I love her more than anything. I’m so in love with her, it hurts. But I’m such a fucking idiot. I pushed her away, I made her hate me.”

He lets out another sob, Matt quickly jumping in, “I’m sure she doesn’t hate you. It’s Y/N, she could never hate you.”

“You weren’t there.” Chris shakes his head, several tears falling from his eyes. “I looked her in her face and told her I don’t feel anything for her. I watched her fall apart. I could see it in her face, what my words did to her. I’ve never seen her so sad before. She told me to leave, and we haven’t spoken since.”

“Oh, Chris.” Nick sighs. “You’ve gotta fix this.”

“Dude!” Matt counters, nudging him again.

“No!” Nick cuts, “I know we said we’d listen, but come on. Chris it’s so obvious you love her. Look at the way you’ve been distraught over this! You haven’t left your room in a week. We’ve had to use old unposted videos just to give our fans content because you’ve been sulking. I get you’re upset, I understand that. What’s stopping you from telling her the truth?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know, you’re just lying to yourself.” Nick snaps. “Accept it, Chris. Just say the words out loud.”

“I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?” Matt encourages.

“I’m scared of fully committing. I’m scared of giving her all of me and not being good enough!” Chris shouts, feeling exasperated.

Nick sighs, “Kid, look back on all these years. She’s been head over heels for you for as long as I can remember.”

“Plus,” Matt starts, holding a finger up. “You’re still committing to not being with her. So, therefore, it’s not commitment you’re afraid of.”

Chris shakes his head, a small chuckle leaving his mouth. “It’s not just that. What if after everything, she doesn’t love me like she thinks? And our fans would go insane.”

“Fuck our fans!” Nick exclaims, receiving a pointed look from Matt. “Okay, that sounded harsh. But seriously, if our fans can’t be happy that you found someone that makes you happy, then they’re not real fans.”

“I don’t want them to hurt her.”

“Like you’re doing right now?” Matt points out.

Chris frowns, knowing Matt is absolutely right. He is hurting Y/N, and that alone, makes his stomach drop.

-

Y/N’s phone had been going straight to voicemail, and none of Chris’ texts were delivering. He assumed she blocked him until he tried having Matt and Nick call her, but to no avail, neither of them got through. So, either she blocked all of them, or her phone was off.

Regardless, Chris was ridden with panic. He worried immensely about her. He knew she was hurting, and he was scared of her doing something stupid. Which brought Chris to where he is now; standing outside of her door.

He’s been on her doorstep for about five minutes, contemplating what to do and what to say. Part of him wants to turn around and forget about him, but he can’t bring himself to do so. He needs to talk to her. So, his hand reaches forward and, before he can talk himself out of it, he knocks several times. So much, in fact, that he yanks his hand back and curses at himself for being so stupid.

It feels like forever has gone by, like he’s been standing there for eternity, until the door opens and snaps him back to reality. His head lifts up and he’s met with Y/N. Her eyes are bloodshot, cheeks red and puffy, and she looks incredibly miserable. Chris still finds her beautiful.

Her eyes widen in surprise before they’re replaced with anger as she frowns at him, “Can I help you?”

The way she talks to him like he’s a stranger makes his stomach twist and he’s suddenly ten times more nervous than before.

“Y/N.” He sighs, unable to form another other words.

“Christopher.”

He takes a deep breath, washing his anxiety away in order to speak to her. “You were right. You were right about everything. I was a complete asshole. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, the way I pushed you away. I lied. I do feel things for you. I feel so much for you that it terrifies the fuck out of me. I’ve never felt this way about anyone and I didn’t know how to deal with it. So, when you admitted your feelings for me, I panicked. I was scared, I’m still scared! I don’t know how to be in a relationship, I’m worried I won’t be good enough for you. I’m scared you’ll realize that you don’t actually love me the way you think you do. I’m scared I’ll ruin everything good between us, if I haven’t already. You’re so fucking amazing, I can’t even wrap my head around how you want anything to do with me. I do love you, I’m so fucking in love with you that it hurts. I’m so incredibly sorry for the pain I caused you, it breaks my heart that you had to endure that because of me. Because I’m an idiot. I’m sick for even jeopardizing us because I was an idiot and couldn’t use my words like a big boy. I do love you, and I want nothing more than to be with you, to have a family and grow old with you. I want to go to every single doctor appointment for our children. I want to have cute gender reveals and baby showers. I want us to have a cute little house with the white picket fence. I want us to have a cute little garden and a play-set for our kids, and a little doggy house. I want to go to sleep with you every night, and wake up with you by my side every single morning. I, so badly, wish I could take back the last few weeks, but I know it’s not possible. But please, if there’s any part of you that still wants me, I want nothing more than to be yours.”

By the time he’s finished speaking, he’s breathless. The two of them had tears running down their cheeks, never breaking eye contact for even a moment. Chris feels so much relief for finally getting that off his chest, he just wishes he had done it sooner rather than later.

“Do you want to come inside?” Her voice speaks up, softer than before.

“Please.” He nods, letting out a breath of nervousness.

She opens the door wider, allowing room for him to enter. He does so, turning to her once she shuts the door. The two stare at each other, no words spoken, causing Chris’ anxiety to spike.

“Will you say something?” He asks, “Please.”

Instead of speaking, she steps forward, yanking him into her. Her arms wrap around his neck, his arms going around her waist. She buries her head in the crook of his neck, and he places his head on hers. Both of them sigh in contentment, finally back in each other’s embrace. Their hearts swell with love as relief floods their bodies.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” He repeats.

“Shh, come on.” She says, reluctantly pulling away and beckoning him to her room.

He follows her in, watching as she gets on her bed. He stands there, almost unsure whether to join her, until she pats the space beside her. He wastes no time in lying right next to her, their bodies molding together once again. Her head on his chest, his arm around her, keeping her in place as their legs entangle and fingers interlock.

“I missed you so fucking much.” He whispers, pulling her impossibly closer in fear that she’d disappear.

She squeezes her eyes shut, gripping onto him tighter, like when she opens her eyes, she’ll find herself alone and realize all of this was a dream.

“Please never do that again.” She croaks, swallowing the lump in her throat.

He instantly lifts her head up, coming face to face with her as they lock eyes. “Never again. I promise. I’m never leaving you again. I want this, I want you. I’m sorry it took me so long to admit that, but I promise this is what I want. You’re what I want, what I need. I’m here to stay.”

It’s like his words flipped a switch because she could suddenly see right through him again. He’s being sincere.

Her hand slowly makes its way to his cheek, rubbing the soft skin with her thumb, before pulling him into her and pressing her lips against his. It feels like heaven. This is what both of them have been longing for, being together in the way they are meant to be.

Their mouths move in sync, the kiss deepening with each passing second. Y/N hooks her leg over him, sliding herself on his lips, to straddle him. Chris’ hands, instinctively, meet her hips, holding her in place.

He suddenly pulls away, “Wait, I don’t want you to think I just came over here to get my dick wet. I-”

“Please shut up.” She breathes, melting into his lips once more.

Their kiss becomes feverish and desperate, as if trying to make up for lost time. Chris’ hands move downwards to her ass, tightly gripping it as she grinds her hips against his. Almost instantly, she can feel his bulge against her core. Her lips part from his and continue trailing down his neck, leaving open mouth kisses, sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin. His breathing picks up, now heavy in her ear.

With one quick motion, he flips her, leaving him hovering over her. His lips meet hers again, their tongues exploring each other’s mouths like it’s the first time ever doing so. His hand softly grasps her neck, his hips rutting against hers, eliciting a soft moan from her.

“God, I’ve missed that sound.” He mumbles against her lips.

Her hands reach the bottom of his shirt, tugging it upwards and placing her hands on his chest as he fully removes it. Her fingers roam his torso, goosebumps arising on his skin beneath her touch. His lips work on her neck, kissing down towards her exposed collarbone. He pulls the loose strap of her tank top down, exposing more skin, his lips following in suit. Soft, breathy moans fell from her mouth, enjoying every sensation he’s giving her.

Chris grabs the hem of her tank top and swiftly pulls it over her head, leaving her topless. His hands caress her bare skin as hers tangle in his hair. He lowers his mouth, peppering wet, open mouthed kisses along every inch of her upper body. His lips trail down the valley of her breasts, both hands cupping each one, giving them a tender squeeze.

“God, you’re so perfect, baby.” Chris groans into her chest, his lips wrapping around her nipple.

Her back arches, pushing her chest more into him, her panties growing more wet with every touch. He takes turns with each nipple, sucking, biting, and pinching them. Airy moans left her mouth, fueling Chris’ desire to hear more of them.

His fingers hook in the waistband of her bottoms, pulling them down and off her feet in one quick motion, tossing them across the room. Y/N’s left bare in front of him, he can’t help but admire the sight of her. Butterflies erupt in her stomach at the loving look in his eyes, her cheeks heating up under his stare.

“So fucking pretty.” He mutters, placing another kiss on her lips.

His hands trail down, groping at every one of her curves, softly massaging the plush skin. They make their way down to her thighs, caressing them with passion. He pulls them apart, her core glistening with her arousal, causing him to lick his lips. She’s completely mouth watering to him.

“Need you so bad.” She moans out, the cool air hitting her right where she needs him most.

He lowers his body in between her legs, softly kissing and nibbling her inner thighs. The moment she bucks her hips up, in need of friction, Chris lurches forward. His tongue glides through her folds with ease, causing her to let out a loud moan. His lips wrap around her sensitive bundle of nerves, gently sucking.

“Fuck.” She moans out, her face contorting in pleasure.

He pulls away, his finger taking his place. It rubs her clit in soft circles, before trailing down, gathering her juices. He leans up towards her mouth, placing his lips on hers, and sinks his finger into her entrance, causing her to moan into the kiss. His finger continues pumping in and out of her for a moment, before he adds another. He speeds up the pace, fucking his fingers into her and curving up just right, feeling that spongy spot he knows she loves.

“Oh my fuck.” She moans, grinding into his hand.

He continues this, his mouth now working on her neck once again, marking her up just how he knows she likes. He knows her inside and out, quite literally. His thumb rubs her clit in circles while his middle and ring finger thrust in and out of her, leaving her a moaning mess. Very quickly, her legs begin shaking and she clenches around him.

“Fuck, baby. Gonna make a mess for me, hm?” He whispers in her ear, sucking on her earlobe, and placing a kiss on it.

Unable to form a sentence, she frantically nods, her hands grasping his arm as he speeds his hand up. She gasps, feeling nothing but euphoric. The knot in her stomach tightens, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Fuck, right there!” She moans out, “Please, don’t stop. Please, please.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He speaks, quickly bringing his mouth back down to her heat, his lips easily wrapping around her clit once again.

Just as his tongue flicks over it, her hips are bucking as her orgasm rushes through her. Her legs tremble as she releases, her juices flying out and drenching the sheets as well as Chris. He moans into her center, his tongue working to taste all of her as his fingers slowly help her ride it out.

“Taste so fucking good.” He moans, pulling his fingers out of her and placing them in his mouth, sucking her fluids off of them.

Her legs continue to twitch as she tries to catch her breath, a goofy smile dancing on her lips as she watches him through heavy eyelids. She pulls him into her again, her lips easily molding with his, the taste of her juices still on his tongue. She can feel his clothed erection pressing into her, causing her to pull away.

Her fingers grasp the drawstring of his sweatpants, slowly pulling them loose. He gets the hint and pulls them down, adding them and his boxers to the pile of clothes discarded on the floor. His hand wraps around the base of his dick, sliding it up and down through her folds, coating it in her arousal. He places himself at her entrance, both of his hands interlocking with hers. Looking into her eyes, he slowly sinks in, loud moans coming from both of them as he bottoms out.

“Mm, missed you so much.” She moans out, her fingers tightening around his.

“I missed you.” He groans, slowly pumping in and out. “God, you feel so good around me, baby.”

As he thrusts into her, her hands guide his to her breasts. His hands engulf them, tightly squeezing them as she claws at his back. His strokes become faster and harder, desperately fucking into her as deep as he’ll go. Her eyes roll into the back of her head as her mouth falls open, broken moans emitting.

He grabs one of her legs, lifting it over his shoulder for better access. The deeper he gets, the louder the moans are, falling from her lips. His free hand comes down, rubbing her clit as he fucks into her at a delicious pace.

“Chris, baby, I’m so close.” She moans with a whine, her fingernails digging into the skin on his back. “You fuck me so good.”

“Let go, mama. Wanna make you feel good.” He groans, his thrusts meeting her just the way they both need.

The tightening in her stomach indicates she’s close to releasing, causing her to tightly clench around his cock. That causes his thrusts to grow sloppy, him feeling his own orgasm sneaking up on him. He recomposes himself, his hips rutting into hers so perfectly, instantly snapping the metaphorical rope inside of her. Lewd moans fall from her mouth as she lets go once again, her juices coating his dick.

“Fuck, so good to me, baby.” He groans, pumping in and out of her before his own release hits him, his hot load painting her walls.

His thrusts slow down before he pulls out altogether, their mixed fluids dripping out of her. Both of their breaths were erratic, their skin flushed mixes of reds and pinks. Chris collapses beside her, their hands immediately connecting as they attempt to regain themselves.

“I love you.” Chris suddenly announces, “I’m gonna remind you every chance I get. I’ll never let you forget it, or doubt it. I love you, I’m so in love with you. I wanna be yours and only yours, forever.”

-

a/n : lolzzz there ya go <3 wasn’t sure if i liked the ending but i got lazy and someoneee wanted a happy ending. it’s not my fic without a lil nasty 🤭 hope you enjoyed it xx

@worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie

[thepeonysbackup]

"Just one round.."

Alastor x Human!Reader

Summary: You wanted to get out some frustration, thinking a roleplay scenario would help your needs. But you didn't expect the sigil to summon a deal maker.

Part two

Request: Yes/No

[Warning, pure horny. A rough idea that popped into my head.]

Slammed back first against a sudden pentagram on the floor of your apartment, disheveled comfy clothes shifted and ripped off by the thick black tentacles pooling out of the lines in the floor, you let a shriek out as the appendages curled and coiled around you. They slithered and slid across your skin, feeling hot, almost boiling as they worked your supple flesh, kneading, and groping with a desperate clutch as you writhed against them feverishly. You never thought the summoning spell would work, wondering how many weeks it had been since you'd tried to summon them. It had been nearly a month, but how you ended up walking right into them at the perfect moment in the middle of the night was a mystery.

Each appendage glowed a subtle green, wrapping tighter around your legs and thighs, closer, closer, and closer to your mound that was merely covered by a pair of loose cotton panties. Once noticed, they were torn to shreads, your heat now free to the open air which erupted a squeak of surprise from your lips. "W-woah! Woah, woah wa-wait, wait a minute! Slow down, time-out!" A voice, graced with static tickled your ear everso slightly, interrupting your protesting almost immediately. "Why struggle? Cause my dear isn't this what you wanted? Wanted to be taken? Like what you had so deliciously begged for when you started that ritual?" The voice was salivating, seething through their teeth it seemed, gasping out their words as if it were a game. How charming they sounded even so. "How all you wanted was to be enraptured by something your disgusting little mind couldn't even comprehend. Something so foul that all you'd need would be.. Only.. one.. round...~" You whimpered at his voice as it dipped in tone, eyes widening as you tugged at your restraints, pathetically really because you could barely move from the lewd position you were being pinned in. "I could.." He drawled, a thinner tentacle trailing over your breast tugged at the fabric covering them before it merely started to roll and envelope one of your plump peaks. "Provide that experience if...-"

You cut him off, "Fuck- Please, yes yes, whatever you want-" You shouted aloud, head lulling to the side on the floor as your back arched with need into the feeling, your eyes finally noticing a pair of reddened boots beside you as well as a cane. As your eyes blearily drug up the figure you noticed his red suit with its white trim, monocle adorning his right eye as an ever present grin was plastered on his face. He looked more then amused with this situation to your shock. Weren't demons suppose to enjoy this kind of thing?

"Anything?" He cheerily inquired to you while tapping his cane against your face, head turning so that you'd see him better as he leaned over to peer down at you like one would to a bug. "Anything! Anything, please!!" You begged harder, voice void of any shame, you were such a needy little thing.

His silence made you shudder, a sudden feeling between your thighs rubbing perfect circles against your lower lips that edged you to moan wantonly before jutting your hips forward as a rather long piece of paper appeared before you and a quill hovered about. Now, one of your hands were free to take hold of the pen and you didn't waste a single second before signing it. "It's a deal then."

[ereawrites]

Hey gurl✨ I’m in my wife era rn so maybe some Shisui and/or Tobirama husband/jealous husband hcs?🫣 I loooovee your writing and tbh your thoughts are my thoughts so no pressure😩 If you not feeling it feel free to ignore me babe🧚🏻‍♀️

YOU HAVE FED ME SO GOOD MISS GIRL! under the cut for length

shisui

this isn't too relevant but I have to include it. it's too cute. I definitely see shisui getting married pretty young, like early 20s. if he finds his person he's going for it. probably gets a lot of shit for it from his family, but he doesn't care

loooong honeymoon period. in part because they're still a young couple but also... shisui is just a really devoted husband. he loves the married life. insists on kissing her goodbye every morning, eating together every night, stuff like that

LOVES DECORATING THEIR HOUSE are u kidding me. let's say they get a kinda shitty place right after they get married, and put a tonne of work into doing it up. he gets so into painting, building the furniture, even starts up a little herb garden in their kitchen

finds so many ways to drop his wife into conversation lol. he's down bad even after the honeymoon period ends, so he wants to show her off. his FAV is when she swings by his workplace to bring him his 'forgotten' lunch. he turns around to the rest of the guys like. yeah. that's my WIFE. isn't she hot.

very much a believer in keeping the romance alive. he wants to keep making the effort with her until the day he dies. veryyyy good at remembering anniversaries, scheduling regular date nights, etc. always makes sure she has fresh flowers in the house

obviously it isn't all perfect though. especially while they're young (and presumably both still active, high-ranking shinobi) their schedules keep them apart a lot. and this hits shisui really hard tbh. he hates coming back to an empty home after a long mission, knowing he might not even see his wife before he has to leave again

work is probably where most of their arguments stem from, actually. I don't see it being a regular thing, but it's easy for resentment to build in those kinds of situations. shisui is very torn between his love for his village, and his love for his wife, and the fact he can't prioritise both. thankfully shisui is a good communicator so they make things work.

in terms of jealousy... I don't see it being a common thing. maybe before they get married he tends towards it a bit more, but once she's his wife, why would he worry? she's his entire world and he knows she loves him just as much

the only way I rly see him getting jealous at all is if they're going through a bit of a rough patch for the reasons mentioned above. maybe they haven't seen each other in weeks, and they both get back from a mission on the same day. and there's some kind of event/function that evening that they have to attend

so they barely have a chance to acknowledge each other, before they're pulled apart again by the crowd. so if shisui sees some random guy getting a little too close and flirty with her, he gets more annoyed than he'd like to admit

even then though.. he's not necessarily jealous as much as he is upset. like goddamn just let this poor man have his beloved wife to himself for a night. in this situation he's more likely to behave more rashly than usual, and he might just make some excuses and take her home lol. he gets a little bit pouty until she gives him some attention

overall, though, he's very chill. he trusts her implicitly, and expects the same from her. they need to have a very honest, respectful relationship if he's going to wife her up

god okay and in old age they're so cute together. I bet they have a bunch of kids (probably accidentally tbh lol) so then they end up with a whole squadron of grandchildren. he's that fun grandpa who sneaks them sweets when the parents aren't looking. all the grandbabies want to sleep over at their house. and they LOVE it.

to sum up: very good husband. very relaxed, communicates well, makes her feel loved every day. why did he have to die I want to throw myself off a bridge.

tobirama

first of all. good job to this woman. wrangling tobirama into marriage is not an easy job. he's so fucking ANNOYING. it probably takes him years to confess he even has feelings for her, let alone ask for her hand in marriage

but once he gets there. it's pretty cute. he doesn't really act very differently for the most part - he'd already decided his heart belonged to her well before they married, and wholly committed. so his behaviour doesn't change much, and there isn't much of a honeymoon period. sorry. he's like marriage is just a contractual agreement why would it change anything between us

he does make a few little indulgences though. he gets this smug little look every time he introduces her as his wife. he's actually just a lot more prone to 'showing her off' in general, and more likely to show some physical affection in public. for tobirama that's maybe a peck on the cheek lol. but it's progress

he's definitely a lot.... gentler?idk. with her once they're married as well. he makes an effort to be more patient and less snippy, and shows his appreciation for her in a lot of quiet little ways. for example, he'll be sure to leave work on time no matter how busy it is if he knows she's putting a lot of effort into dinner that night. or if she spends a second too long looking at a new dress in the store, he's buying it for her

on that note. tobirama is such a provider once they're married. he does have that traditional idea of providing for his wife. he'll probably ask her if she wants to become a stay at home wife tbh. if she says yes, he still expects her to get out in the community of course. he'd love if she did volunteering work, maybe at the hospital or with kids or something. but he's also equally happy for her to keep working. power couple vibes very strong

they have a nice, quiet little house away from the village where no one bothers then and they loooove it. especially tobirama, his wife and their home are his sanctuary. everyone else gtfo

other than that, not much is really different from before their marriage. they probably actually lead quite independent lives, to the point where people don't even know they're married until tobirama drops it into conversation a few months later. they're very private and lowkey.

unfortunately for her, tobirama's paranoia also persists. he's a bit delulu sometimes lol and she knows this going in. but it does inevitably cause some issues, especially if she's headstrong (which is definitely the type of woman he ends up with)

he trusts his wife more than anything. he would never doubt her for a second. but other men? the enemy. not to be trusted. they're all dogs. it drives him absolutely batshit crazy to watch them ogling her, or god forbid trying to flirt with her. which is actually kinda common bc they're such a lowkey couple, so people assume she's single

tobirama isn't one to make a scene per se, but this definitely leads to a few awkward situations in public, and she probably ends up embarrassed a few times. and there's 10000% arguments behind closed doors. I don't see either of them being good with this lol. he acts like she's his political enemy he's ridiculous

but because he loves her so much, and he actually really wants to put work into the longevity of their marriage, he'll come around. he's a lot softer and more willing to compromise when it comes to her. but she can't point that out because he's mortified

over time, he chills out a lot more. they're one of those couples that just get stronger and better with time. they grow a lot together, and although they probably continue to disagree a lot throughout their marriage, it's always in a way that leaves their relationship stronger. and he only gets softer for her. people (hashirama) even start to point out how devoted he is and he can't even deny it. cute

overall a kind of difficult husband, because he is an exceptionally difficult man, but my god he loves her so much. he would do anything to make her happy.

[pinkanonwrites]

Hands-On Learning (Rodimus Perspective)

Read 'Hands-On Learning' Here!

art by @archie-sunshine

Rodimus/Human Reader, NSFW, First Contact AU, AFAB Reader, GN Pronouns, G/T, Experimental Sex, Fingering, Oral (Receiving)

I was asked many a time for Roddy's perspective in 'Hands-On Learning', so here it is!

NSFW Below The Cut!

“You're real eager, aren't you? Taking off all your little coverings so fast.~”

If Perceptor, or Megatron, or, Primus forbid, Ultra Magnus knew he was doing this, it could easily be a one-way ticket to the brig. Or Rung’s office. Whichever was closer. The first time had been an accident, sure. A misunderstanding. Something that, if it were to get out to the other mechs aboard, Rodimus could easily brush off as a miscommunication between different species. A miscommunication that wouldn't end with him being questioned about particular fetishes or slapped with a warning about ‘interface misconduct.’

But this? Cupping your soft, unarmored body between his massive digits? Teasing and squeezing your plush organic mass while you wriggled in his grip? This is something he could actually get in trouble for. This was something dangerous. 

And Rodimus loved ‘dangerous’.

Your soft skin yielded so easily beneath the press of his servos, each delicate touch bringing these tiny bumps rippling to the surface of your skin, microscopic hairs standing on end as he stroked you. Your thighs fell apart as he trailed a digit up the length of one, revealing your slick, uncovered valve. 

“Cute.” Instead of following your invitation, he instead poked you in the side of your squishy thigh, chuckling as your muscle shifted beneath his digit. There was far more yield than metal mesh usually gave, warmth molding into the crevices of his joints when he squeezed you again. You let out a soft whimpering noise, grabbing for the seam of his wrist and directing him up, up, until one of his digits was pressed flush against your valve. Once it was there you crooned, hips jerking at the faint rumble of his engines coursing through his frame.

“Yes? You like that? Must feel good pressing up on all your soft spots, huh?” His optics flickered between your face and valve, torn between watching the subtle twitches of your expressions trying to hold back your pleasure, and the slick you were now drooling all over his knuckle.

“Yes…” You cooed, along with another string of babble he didn't yet understand. But you kept rocking your hips up against him, huffing and whining with each ex-vent. He gave the slightest roll of his digit, and even that sensation was enough to have you gasping in his servos.

“So cute.” He reaffirmed, letting his other servo stroke and fondle you while you got yourself off on his digit. With his thumb resting on your chassis he could feel the thud, thud, thud of your fuel pump hammering away, seeming to rev up faster and faster the closer you came to overload. Your little pedes scrabbled uselessly against the surface of the table, pushing your hips up harder, more desperately against his digit as you moaned. Rodimus could feel your valve clenching around nothing as your overload hit you, helm lolling back against his palm with a soft thunk. 

“Careful.~” He teased, digit finally slowing to a stop as your moans began to pitch up into overstimulated whimpers. You blinked up at him with unfocused, glassy optics, slick and limp and looking utterly content in his servos.

“Rodimus…”

The heat pooling in his tanks and behind his modesty plate bellowed, a gush of steam venting through his parted dermas as his engine snarled.

“Slag… You’re so slaggin’ cute.” His digits slunk lower, prodding and massaging at the slick opening of your valve. Your soft skin gave way so easily, stretching far beyond what he could have possibly imagined until, with a wet pop and a sharp, staggering gasp from you, the tips of two of his digits were snug in your little valve.

“Rodimus!?” You yelped again, surrounded by a garble of unfamiliar language as you twitched and shivered in his servos. Your own little digits dug into the sensitive crevasses of his paneling, helm tossed back in ecstasy as he prodded further into your impossible warmth. Rodimus could swear that with each minute curve of his digits he could see the soft bulge of your tank from him prodding within, transfluid spilling out and dribbling down the curve of your aft and into his palm. Rodimus found himself transfixed by the milky substance, unable to tear his optics away from your valve as lubricant pooled beneath his glossa.

“Messy too… Don’t worry, sweetspark, I’ll clean you right up…”

The first lap of his glossa across your valve was electrifying. There was a heady, almost metallic tang to your transfluid, like the powder at the bottom of a box of rust sticks. And each time he teased your tiny node your hip struts would jump right off of his palm, practically humping his open intake. But the best of all had to be your noises. They were even more obvious now, hitched little in-vents and primal mewls as you writhed and gasped and shivered in his cupped servos. The urge to disengage the locks of his interface panels prickled at the back of his processor, drowned out and brushed aside by the mere euphoria of your organic taste. The cling and scrape of your tiny servos against his helm chevron was little more than a buzz in the back of his pleasure-fogged thoughts.

You sobbed out his name again, another spurt of organic fluid spilling from your valve and across his glossa as you clenched around his digits. He lapped at your sensitive node just a few more times before finally pulling away.

“That might have just made you more messy though. Hanging in there, bud? Good?”

Slippery with arousal and coolant and oral lubricant fluid, you lifted your servo weakly to offer him an exhausted thumbs up. Rodimus beamed, squishing your soft cheek beneath the prod of his digit tip.

“Ha! Good. Better get you cleaned up before you get all grimy though, huh? I wonder if you'd fit in one of Mags’s mugs…”

[serpentandlily]

Butterfly Fly Away

Butterfly Fly Away - Platonic!Reader x BatBoys

Summary: You’ve been bestfriends with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel since childhood but with the new additions to your Inner Circle, it's starting to feel like you are being replaced. When confronted, your three friends brush off your concerns, leading you to believe it’s time to move on and start a life of your own. But once you’re gone, the three brothers begin to realize just how much they need you in their lives. 

Based on this request.

Warnings: A mix of angst and fluff. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

Butterfly Fly Away

❀⊱♡⊰❀

You let out a long shaky breath, sitting on the edge of your bed, looking around your now empty room in the Townhouse. You had packed up everything. Your clothes, your trinkets, the parchments full of scribbles from Nyx, the painting Feyre had gifted you of the whole family together. All of it.

Your chest felt hollow. The silence and emptiness was deafening. So many memories were made in this room, down these halls, in this city. The thought of leaving that all behind made your heart ache but the thought of staying here hurt worse. 

You had met Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian during your youth and struck a friendship with them. A friendship that had grown and grown into what felt like an impenetrable bond between the three of you. 

And they had always stressed how much importance you had within the family. The peacemaker, the mediator, the one who could end fights between them before they even began. Your magic was able to read the emotions of others, making you adept at talking others through their own feelings—of helping them understand why they felt the way they did. 

It was really the only thing you were good for. You weren’t a skilled fighter, or strategist, or politician. All weakness you hated considering your family was made of the most powerful fae.

But when it came to matters of the heart? Well, you were an expert. For everyone else anyways, considering yours was currently being torn apart. 

You had been there for each of them during the best and worst of days. Through the war, through Rhysand losing his family, through the forty-nine years without him. The four of you with Mor and Amren included had built a small family together. 

A family that was no longer around because they had all found another. And you had been left with none. 

Slowly but surely they had completely erased your spot in the family with the Archeron sisters. It wasn’t even that you didn’t like the three sisters. Each of them had a special place in your heart. But they changed the dynamic of the group so drastically. 

And you no longer felt like you belonged. 

Mor had felt it too, which was why she was more than happy to be sent to the continent to work on alliances there. Amren had found herself a lover and seemed content with keeping him all to herself. 

But you…you had nothing without them. Or at least, that’s what it felt like. 

You had tried to bring it up with them, had tried to hint that you felt a bit left out and neglected. But they had brushed you off, telling you it was time you “found a life of your own like they had.” You thought you did have a life of your own already. Here. But apparently that was not the case. 

You let out another sigh as you stared at the last three things you had to pack. You picked up the first one, a smooth rock—a red creek jasper. You still remembered the day Azriel had given it to you when you both were only eleven. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

“You can do it, Az!” you shouted. 

You were standing underneath a very large boulder, holding a hand over your eyes as the sun shone down on you and Rhys. Cassian and Azriel were both on top of the boulder, wings spread wide as Cassian tried to direct Azriel on how to fly. 

Azriel’s face was nearly white and you could tell even from where you were standing that his hands were shaking. You took a few steps closer to the rock, holding your little arms out. 

“I’ll catch you if you fall,” you yelled up to him. “I promise!”

It was at that moment that Cassian decided he was over waiting for Azriel to jump and pushed the boy off the rock instead. Azriel shrieked, a sound he had never made before, and frantically tried to pump his wings but it was no use. He crashed right into you, sending you both sprawling on the ground.

“Y/n,” he gasped, rolling off of you. “Are you okay?” 

His eyes were wide with both shock and concern. They only widen more when you burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. It hurt, a lot. You were both eleven but Azriel was already bigger than you. 

“I told you I’d catch you!” The look on his normally unreadable face sent you into another fit of giggles. 

Later that day, Azriel had gone to the nearby creek and dug around for hours looking for the perfect rock to give you, knowing you liked collecting the cool ones you found. He had apologized numerous times, even though it had been Cassian’s fault, but he still felt guilty. He finally stumbled on a tiny, smooth rock that was a mixture of dark orange and red swirls.

When he came home that night and offered it to you as another apology, Cassian and Rhys had laughed themselves nearly sick but you had just smiled at the shy boy and squeezed the rock in your hand, holding against your chest. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

It was the first gift Azriel had given you and it had stayed with you all these years. 

You wrapped it back in the silk handkerchief you kept it in and placed it in your bag. 

Your eyes moved to the next item. A scarf made from various scraps of fabric. Definitely not fashionable, but it had been a special gift from Rhysand.

❀⊱♡⊰❀

“Why do you carry that old blanket around with you still?” The thirteen year-old Rhys was peering at the dirty blanket in your hand with a sneer. “We’re not babies anymore, y/n. You should get rid of it.” 

You pulled the blanket closer to you—a blanket made up of random scraps of fabric, the only thing your mother could afford at the time. It was ratty, falling apart at the seams, but it was special to you. 

“It’s the only thing I have left of her,” you said, quietly, blinking away the tears that started forming in your eyes. 

Your mother had passed away years ago and your father, who had never loved her in the first place, had tossed out all her belongings. You had only managed to get your hands on the blanket before it was taken away.   

Rhys had said nothing else about it until winter solstice came around that year. You hadn’t noticed that he had snuck into your room and taken the blanket—bringing it to his mother to make into something a little better for you to carry around with you. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

He had given you the scarf that night and every single snowfall, it was the first one you pulled out. You packed it away with a heavy heart. You were moving to the Day Court, something you had already discussed with the Inner Circle, and you would hardly have use for it there. 

The last item sat on your dresser, a white, stuffed pegasus toy—a gift from Cassian. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

A knock sounded on your door but you ignored it, rolling over in your bed and wiping your tears.

Another knock.

“Y/n! Open up! I know you’re in there,” Cassian shouted through the door.

“Go away, Cass,” you managed to croak out through your tears. “I’m not in the mood.”

There was a pause before he shouted through the door again.

“What’s wrong, y/n? I can tell you’re crying!”

“Nothing, just go away!”

The door burst open and you shot up in your bed, cursing at yourself for not making sure it was locked. Cassian walked into your room, his eyes widening as he took in your appearance. 

“Y/n?” He asked, quietly, shutting the door behind him. “Why are you crying? What happened?”

A tiny sob broke through your lips and Cassian was at your side instantly, wrapping an arm around you. You both were only sixteen, but Cassian was already starting to look more like a male than a boy with how big he was getting. 

“Cyrus b-broke up with me,” you choked out. 

“Oh thank the gods!”

You glared up at Cassian, shoving him away from you.

“Get out if you’re going to be like that.”

He held up his hands in surrender. “Sorry, y/n, I just mean… Well, we all think you’re too good for him, you know. He’s an asshole.”

More tears poured from your eyes and Cassian pulled you to his chest again. “I am really sorry, y/n. I know how much you liked him.”

Cassian had stayed with you that night, holding you until you cried yourself to sleep. When you woke up the next day, a tiny stuffed Pegasus was waiting on your nightstand with a note attached to it.

‘I hope this little guy helps you feel better. But if you need to let off some steam, come find me in the training ring—Cassian.’

❀⊱♡⊰❀

You hugged the pegasus to your chest for a moment before dropping it into your bag with the last of your stuff. 

You were supposed to leave in the morning after a goodbye breakfast with the whole family, but the trip down memory lane had you feeling too upset.

You didn’t know if you could handle seeing them all, especially when they seemed to have no qualms about you leaving. 

Cassian didn’t need a secondary sparring partner to Azriel anymore now that he had Nesta. Rhys didn’t need help reading through correspondence now that he had Feyre. And those serene walks through the woods with Azriel? Well, those went to Elain now. 

You pulled out the copy of keys you had for the Townhouse and River House and set them down on the dresser in the room. You took one last look around, your heart breaking in your chest, before finally winnowing away.

❀⊱♡⊰❀

“This alliance with Vallahan could go two ways,” Rhys said, stroking his jaw. “They fight with us against Koschei and end this whole thing before it becomes a full blown war. Or they’re faking their support and have already sided with Koschei.”

“If they are, the results of that will be devastating,” Mor said with a frown. “Our armies are still so depleted and even with the help of the other courts minus Autumn, Koschei has triple our numbers if Vallahan has already sided with him.” 

Cassian let out a low whistle as he stared over the battle plans. “We’d be fucked. Utterly fucked.”

“We can’t win in that scenario,” Azriel piped up from next to Cassian.

“We can’t win without their help either,” Feyre said. “This decision is everything. Everything relies on this decision. You really couldn’t get a read on them, Mor?” 

Mor shook her head. “They were careful with their wording and vague. They were certainly speaking the truth, but it meant little.”

“Their mental defenses were too strong to get through without force. But if they are being honest and I break into their minds, we might as well kiss the alliance goodbye,” Rhys sighed. “If only there was another way to get a read on them. I hate going into this blind with only our own faith.” 

The room was silent as they all pondered what this meant for the battle against Koschei. 

“There is…someone who could help.”

Everyone’s head whipped towards Cassian. Rhysand waved a hand at him to continue. Cassian swallowed audibly.

“Y/n.”

That name had everyone sitting up straight. Rhysand raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding. Not until it clicked in his head.

“She can read people’s emotions,” he breathed out. “I… I never thought about her using it this way. I just thought it was good for—well, you know.”

“Just meddling?”

Rhys nodded, feeling a bit ashamed. The room went quiet again, everyone soaking in what Cassian was suggesting.

“Would she even help? You all basically ran her out of this court,” Mor huffed, causing tensions to rise. 

“Not this again,” Cassian groaned.

Mor stood from her seat, bristling at Cassian’s words. “I’m being serious. She has been your guys’ friend since you were kids. And you all left her in the dust even after she tried to tell you guys how she felt!”

When Mor had returned from the continent and learned of you leaving the court, she had been beyond angry at the three males for their treatment of you. She had written you several letters apologizing and you had welcomed her back into your life. 

But she was the only one you still talked to. 

The room was dead quiet. Each of the three males shared looks of guilt and embarrassment because Mor was right. They had completely taken you for granted and cast you aside once the sisters started having bigger roles in their life. And they had let you go without even trying to convince you to stay. 

“I miss her.”

Azriel’s voice was so quiet, like he hadn’t even meant to say those words out loud. 

Cassian let out a long sigh. “I miss her too.”

Mor glanced around at the other members of the Inner Circle before gesturing towards the door. “I think the boys need to discuss this amongst themselves.” 

Once the door shut behind Feyre, Rhys leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “I hadn’t realized how much of an impact she had. Things haven’t felt right here without her.” 

“No, they haven’t,” Cassian agreed. “We really did kind of… forget about her. Not intentionally but still.” 

“Have you talked to her?” Azriel asked, looking at his High Lord.

“Have you?”

Azriel looked away in answer, feeling a bit of guilt. 

“Do you think she’s still in the Day Court?” Cassian asked. 

Rhys nodded. “Yes, Helion is quite fond of her it seems.” 

Cassian snickered while a ghost of a grin crossed Azriel’s face. It wasn’t hard to imagine you in Day. You had always been a beacon of light for the group and they knew how easily you made friends wherever you went. It came naturally to you as an empath. 

“Do you think…” Cassian trailed off, sounding a bit insecure. “Do you think she’d come home? If we asked?” 

“She didn’t even say goodbye before she left,” Azriel murmured. 

“We can try but I think we should be honest with her about our feelings,” Rhys said. “I’d hate for her to think we’re just asking her back so she can help us with this.” 

“She’s going to know how we’re feeling anyways,” Cassian laughed. “Remember?”

Rhys grinned, thinking of all the times you had caught them in blatant lies because of your abilities, all the times you meddled with their love lives and friendships too. 

There really was a you-shaped hole in the group now. The three shared a look of guilt. It was a shame it took this long for them to realize it. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

Three knocks against the door of your small cottage woke you up. You groaned, sitting up and blinking the sleep from your eyes. You had gone to one of Helion’s illustrious parties last night and had not been expecting to be woken up this early.

You shrugged on a silk robe over your nightgown and made your way to your front door.

Your eyes widened in shock as soon as you opened it, staring at the three males you hadn’t seen in a little over a year. You stepped aside, wordlessly, letting them into your new home. The distance had not made the bond between the four of you shrink, even after all this time, it seemed.

They greeted you in their own ways. Azriel with a soft smile, Cassian with a booming hello and hug, and Rhys was a feline grin and pat on the shoulder. You strode to the kitchen as they took a seat in your living room.

“I need coffee,” you announced. “Anyone else?”

“Long night?” Cassian teased.

“Don’t even ask,” you joked back, pulling out four mugs as they all said yes to your offer.

It was silent while the coffee brewed, and their emotions were all over the place. Nervousness, guilt, hope and regret. Your eyebrows furrowed as you grabbed the mugs and set them on the coffee table, taking a seat on an armchair.

“No offense,” you started. “But why are you guys here? I haven’t spoken to any of you in over a year.”

“That’s kind of what we’re here about,” Rhys replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

You raised an eyebrow at them, taking a sip of your coffee.

“I’ll get straight to the point,” he continued. “We…We want you to come home.”

You nearly spit your coffee out. That was not what you were expecting him to say. After all, they didn’t seem very upset when you told them you were leaving the Night Court in the first place.

“Why?” you managed to choke out.

“I’ll be honest. We’re dealing with a situation back home and it made us realize how much of an importance you played, not just in our court but in our lives. We miss you, y/n. We regret how we treated you the past few years.”

“We all just got so caught up in our own problems, we didn’t even realize how much we were neglecting you,” Cassian added with a sincere frown. “You were such a constant in our lives and I guess we sort of took that for granted, assuming you’d always be there.”

“I tried to tell you how I felt,” you murmured, hiding half your face behind your coffee mug.

“I’m sorry for brushing you off,” Azriel said, quietly. “Truly. A lot was happening and like Cassian said, I just figured once we got through it all, things could resume as normal.”

“So why have none of you written to me in the year I’ve been gone?”

“After you left, Mor kind of chewed us out,” Cassian said, sheepishly. “We all just assumed you were mad at us and left because you needed space. I know it’s not a good excuse but well, you know more than anyone that we’ve never been great at communicating.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. That was the reason you meddled so much. To get them to talk about their feelings, express themselves. It was hard staying quiet when you knew how a person truly felt.

“We miss you and we need you, y/n,” Rhys cut in. “Things haven’t been the same since you left. I’m sorry it took so long for us to realize and I’m sorry for how we treated you. You’re our best friend, our sister. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”

“Me either.” Both Azriel and Cassian interjected.

You thought about it, thought of the year you spent without them. While you had started anew, made new friends, had lovers, you did miss them dearly. It made you realize something about the bond you all shared, about your friendship in general. Life changes and sometimes people get preoccupied with other things but that bond you felt hadn’t shrunk, hadn’t grown any weaker. It was still the same as it had been the day you left.

They would always be your best friends, your brothers by name.

And their feelings were genuine. You of all people would know.

“Please come home,” Cassian begged. “I need you--we all need you.”

This house was not a home without the people you cared about. As much as you loved the Day Court, it wasn’t the same. Not without all the memories tied to it. And perhaps this had just made your friendship with them stronger, made you all realize how much you needed each other despite now having more priorities in your lives. You couldn’t fault them for finding love, for building families.

The three of them were nearly holding their breath with anticipation, waiting for your answer. A smile broke out on your face and their shoulders dropped.

“Okay,” you finally said. “I’ll come home. But I’m keeping this as my vacation house and you all owe me a years’ worth of mooncakes when we get home.”

Laughter filled the tiny cottage as they eagerly agreed to your terms. A new warmth spread in your chest. You were finally going home back to your true family. 

❀⊱♡⊰❀

[courtforshort15]

In the Rearview

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem Reader

Word Count: 3,300

Summary: Reader returns from a trip home to visit her family, and Matt is less than happy to hear about the details.

Trigger warning: discussion of physical abuse

Shameless use of the "who did this to you?" trope.

Masterlist

"What happened to your face?"

You drop the plastic cup you had pulled out of your cabinet as you jump in surprise, hand flying to your throat. Matt stands next to your window in all black, mask missing from his face, clothes damp from sweat and blood leaking from a jagged scratch on his bicep that you can see through his torn shirt. His hands are on his hips, a frown visible on the lips you've spent many hours pressed against.

You step forward to greet him, having not seen him for a few days, but the look on his face stops you. It's a mixture of confusion and frustration and barely contained rage, and you're not quite sure if he wants to be touched at this moment, so you keep your distance for the time being.

"What? What are you talking about?" You ask slowly instead, bending down to pick up the cup that had flown from your hand in a graceless fall and landed with a loud clatter on your floor. You scoop it up and place it on the counter, grateful it had been empty before it slid from your hands.

"There's something on your face, isn't there?"

"I don't--"

"Bruising, right?" He takes a step further into your kitchen, shutting the window quietly behind him, effectively muting the sound of New York City that's been leaking into your apartment since he entered. "Your face is bruised. Your left cheek bone."

You look at him in alarm, hand flying to the cheek he’s motioned at. "No, there's nothing there."

Matt's frown deepens, the corners of his mouth forced downward in the expression. He doesn't look very impressed with the obvious false statement you've just fed him, and you wince. "Not only can I tell that you're lying, but I can tell there's swelling underneath your eye. And blood has pooled."

"Matt--"

He all but stomps around your kitchen table so he's standing right in front of you, the gait to his step similar to what you’ve seen in old newsreels, back when Daredevil had been a novelty that every news outlet wanted to cover. Your man is a prowler, you’ve long since acknowledged, fury present in every line of his body as he makes his way through Hell's Kitchen night after night. 

His calloused hand reaches out, as if to touch your face, but pulls it back just inches from the skin below your eye. His face hardens. 

"Who did this to you?"

You let out a loud sigh and attempt to take a step back, if nothing more than to put some distance between you and the intense level of focus that’s aimed your way. You know how he gets when he’s noticed something out of place, and right now the giant bruise on your cheek is just that, though you try to dissuade him from the topic. "No one did anything."

"That's a lie."

"I promise nothing--"

"Stop lying," he growls suddenly. If he were a dog, his hackles would be raised so sharply you’d be able to see them from twenty feet away. "There's a giant bruise on your face. What the hell happened?"

You're silent for a second before you answer. This isn't a conversation you've been wanting to have, not with the week's events so fresh in your mind. You already know how he's going to react, and the thought makes you cringe. "I don't...I don't want to talk about it."

The look on his face is one of disbelief. "Don't want to...? I don't care. My girlfriend went away for a few days to visit her parents and came back with a bruise the shape of someone's hand on her cheek. Who hit you?"

You grimace as you shift your weight from side to side. Your eyes leave his face as you turn your head to the window, taking in the sight of the brick building next door. Eyes welling, you bite back a soft, shaky sigh and clench your fists at your side. 

Matt takes note of your silence and prompts you more gently this time, the fire in his voice temporarily extinguished as he pulls your hand into his and uncurls the fingers so he can lace his in with yours. 

You take a deep breath, your hand instinctively tightening around his. "My dad. My dad hit me."

Matt visibly recoils, eyes widening in alarm. His jaw has dropped, his lips stretched around the expression. "Your dad?"

"Yeah, my dad," you admit with another wince, and the movement in your face causes a level of discomfort as it forces your sore skin to move. "He hit me the other day."

"The other day?" He asks, and his voice is one that suggests he still can’t believe the words coming out of your of your mouth. "But you only got back yesterday. You stayed with them after he hit you?"

"No, I left their house after that," you tell him, and the look he gives you is incredulous, as if the distinction isn’t much better. You know what’s pouring through his mind right now, and it’s not pretty. You long to tell him you’re okay, that everything is fine, but the man looks like a bomb that’s ready to explode, and another lie from you would only be the match. "I just…didn't come home right away because I didn't want people to see it and question things."

"Question things? You were concerned about people questioning things?"

You squirm under his attention, but stay your course. You’ve often chosen not to say anything to anyone for a reason, hating the looks of pity you were sure to receive. You were used to marks on your skin, having grown up in the household that you did, and you hate having to explain things just as much as you hate having to hide things. "Bruising on the face doesn't look good."

If it’s even possible, Matt's jaw drops even further. You vaguely notice the cut that’s stark red and glaring at you against his pale skin on the corner of his mouth. "Is this why you’ve been avoiding me?"

You object to the accusation, but it’s weak, even to your own ears. Despite his lack of sight, Matt always sees right through you, even the pieces you find yourself reluctant to share. Without fail, he always has a way of pulling things out into the open. 

"I haven't been avoiding you."

He scoffs, even while your hand is held gently in his. "We've barely talked on the phone the past few days, and you told me you had a busy day today and didn't have time to meet up."

"I was busy. I had a ton to catch up on." At least that part isn't a lie. Emails, errands, a sobbing conversation with your sister while you told her about what transpired over the course of a few days with your parents. You were worn out, and the appearance of your angry vigilante in your kitchen wasn’t helping, though all you’ve wanted is to be pulled back and held by him since the second you left New York to head to your hometown.

"Sweetheart, I had to hear from Foggy that something was up," he said quietly, suddenly taking another step into your space, hand reaching up to run lightly through your hair. "He said you were wearing so much make-up to cover it up, but that he could still see a mark. He called me and asked what had happened to your face. He was shocked I didn’t know."

"I'm not surprised," you shrug helplessly, and he tracks the movement with a sigh. "It's still there a little, but I had too many things to do today. I ran into him on my way home from the store an hour ago."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's embarrassing," you mumble, shuffling your feet. The floor creaks under the shift in weight as you do, and then again as he takes another step towards you.

"Embarrassing?" He asks incredulously. "Someone put their hands on you and it's embarrassing?"

"I just...I just don't like talking about it."

"Has your dad hit you before?"

Your breath catches in your throat as he asks the question you knew was coming, even while you hoped he would leave it alone. The silence that follows the question apparently tells him everything he needs to hear, because he looks enraged.

"How long? How long has your dad been abusive?"

You avoid looking at him, but a finger on your chin brings your face back to his. He does it for his benefit, not yours, because he wants to know he has your complete attention. He always has your complete attention when he’s in the room, if you’re being honest with yourself. You’ve been unable to shift your focus from him since the moment you were introduced to him. 

“Pretty much since elementary school."

Matt inhales sharply. "And you still go back to see him?"

A few tears suddenly cloud your vision, much to your horror, and your hand immediately lifts to brush them away, but Matt wipes them first, a mournful sound resonating in the back of his throat. Your pain has always mattered more to him than any broken rib, concussion, or laceration he has suffered ever could. 

"I don't go back to see him. I go back to see my mom."

Realization blooms across his face, and you smile sadly at the expression. "Does he hit your mom, too?"

With a quiet sigh, you nod, still struggling to hold in a few tears. His thumb still rests on the cheek that is not bruised, and he catches the few drops that attempt to make their way down your face. "He started hitting her long before he moved on to me and my sister."

"How...how did this go on for so long? How did no one say anything? See anything?"

"My dad's a very smart man," you say softly, knowing he’ll hear you regardless of the volume. It’s the benefit of being in love with a man who is always so tuned in on everything you say and do. You are completely aware of the fact that he knows you better than you know yourself. "He was very careful about where he hit us, and how hard."

"Was child protective services ever called?" He still looks and sounds absolutely infuriated, the smoke and fire of the Devil seeping out of his pores.

"Twice. But my dad...he had connections on the force. Small town politics, you know?" The smile that stretches over your teeth is bitter. "And my mom always lied, too. Especially because we all knew it would get worse for us if we didn't."

Matt swears a blue streak. When not on the streets stalking for the next person to spill their blood on the Muay Thai ropes wrapped around his hands, Matt is generally mild-mannered, so the language escaping his lips isn’t exactly common. "And she's still with him?"

You shrug miserably. "Yeah, she won't leave him. I think she's too scared to. Scared about what her life would look like without him. She doesn't have a job, doesn't have very many friends. All of her family is gone, pretty much. She was an only child, and my grandparents are dead, so no one to look to."

"And you? What about you?"

Shaking your head with a grimace, you attempt to take a step back, the heavy subject taking a tole. Unsurprisingly, he follows you, matching you step for step, always reluctant to keep space between you when he can tell you’re upset. "Matt, I've offered. Several times. And so has my sister. But she won't leave." 

"So you go to visit her." It's not a question.

You nod, running your fingers over your kitchen counter as Matt steps closer, his arm wrapping around your waist in an effort to keep you as close to him as possible, as if he needs to be the only one between you and the rest of the world. "Yeah. If it was just him, I'd never go back. But I can't just...leave her. I need to check up on her from time to time. I refuse to sleep in the house though. There's a hotel down the street."

"And this time? What happened this time?" Matt's presses,and the fingers on his other hand lifts to run gently down the bruise. You try not to flinch away from the touch as it's still tender, but he still notices the way you tense, and his mouth hardens.

"He, uh...he heard me asking my mom if she wanted to come visit me here. He thought I was trying to take her away."

"Were you?"

You nod a little reluctantly. "I was hoping that if I could get her away from him for a few days, she might see that there is life outside of him. But he heard me bring it up while we were in the kitchen, and he hit me and told me to shut my mouth or he’d shut it for me."

Matt hisses. You’re absolutely sure that if he didn’t feel the need to keep you close, to feel you against him to remind him you were fine, he’d be on his way out the window to hunt down the man in question. Your parents live several states away, but Matt would absolutely make the journey for you if you said the word. 

"Did you leave? Please tell me you left after that."

"I did," you tell him, and there’s a quick flash of relief that slides across his face before it settles back into the hard frown. "I grabbed my things and went back to the hotel."

"Did you call the police?"

You look away again, an old wound tearing open at the question. You’ve tried over the years to help your mother to the best of your ability, but you haven’t been successful. It’s been one of the greatest failures of your life. 

"There's not much they can do when the victim refuses to say anything. She still just lies for him."

His eyes are surprisingly soft when he turns your face back to his. "True, but I meant for you. Did you call the police for him hitting you?"

Your breath stalls, every inch of your body screeching to a halt as you consider what he’s asked. "I hadn't actually...thought of that."

"Then we're going to call them. We'll press charges," he replies without a moment’s pause, face determined, the hand at your waist twitching as if it’s ready to make the phone call right this instant. You grab his hand in yours, once again lacing your fingers, wordlessly asking him to give it a second before he does anything.

"I don't think--" you try to object, but he quickly cuts you off with a finger to your lips.

"Sweetheart, I'm a lawyer. A good one. There's no way I'm just gonna let this slide."

“You’re a defense lawyer. Even if I decided to do this, it’s outside your normal scope of work.”

It doesn’t deter him, not one ounce. This fearless man in your life is always ready to jump to the aid of others, especially when that person is you. It’s his greatest strength, this desire to do good, even while you sometimes see it as your greatest source of sadness.  “I’ll make an exception. Or I can reach out to an old classmate who specializes in this sort of law.”

"Matt--"

"No," he shakes his head adamantly, his breathing harsh, skin almost scalding to the touch as his heart race increases pounds beneath the surface. "If you think for one second I'm not going to make this man pay, you've got another thing coming. He hit you. He put his hands on you."

"I'm scared about making things worse for my mom," you force out around the teeth that have clenched in an effort to keep from crying. "I'd do this in a heartbeat if I knew she was safe."

"There are shelters--"

"We've tried those before," you argue, and the tone is just as desperate as the fear is rippling through your system. "She either refuses to go, or goes for a few days and ends up right back with him. Whatever I do, it can't come back onto her."

"It won't." He sounds so sure, and every cell in your body wants to believe him, but such hope is foolish and has led you into trouble before.

"You don't know that."

"I know that I'm going to do everything I can to make sure this man is put behind bars," he growls. For all his anger, his hands are still soft on yours, as they always are. Never before would you have thought that a man with such calloused palms and fingertips could hold you so gently. "You deserve to know he's paying for hurting you. Your mom deserves to not live in fear from a man who still hurts her."

You're crying now, having given up the farce of trying to hide it, trying to force it down. "He just always seems to win, Matt. No matter what my sister and I do."

Matt almost deflates against you, and you watch as another thought pushes its way into his head and out of his mouth. "I should never have let you go by yourself."

You try to push him away, surprised at how the conversation has turned, but his grip tightens. "This isn't your fault, Matt. Why would you even think that?"

"I could feel something was wrong when you said you were going to visit," he says quietly, and the anger that had him so riled up just moments ago has suddenly turned in on himself. He’s always been quick to take every wrong onto his shoulders, regardless if he had any hand in it or not. "But I just chalked it up to stress at work and didn't question anything."

"You didn't know," you whisper, and you take a step closer, pressing your entire body against him. He leans into you without being prompted, a hand wrapping itself in your hair. "You couldn't have. I never told you. That's not on you. None of this is on you."

"Even so, I don't want you anywhere near him ever again. Do you hear me?"

"But my mom--"

You feel Matt shake his head against you, and the movement is almost sharp as he responds."If you need to see your mom, we will work something out where you can see her without him. I don't care what we have to do. But promise me you won't be around him again, especially if I'm not there."

You let out a deep breath, trembling against him. "I promise I won't see him again without you."

"Promise me again." 

Your hands dig into the back of his shirt. "I promise."

“Good,” he sighs, and his lips press themselves into the crown of your head, your forehead, your cheek, anywhere that’s easily in reach as if he needs to mark every inch of your skin as his to protect. “I’ll make some calls in the morning, see where we can go from here. Once I’m done, I’ll help you file the police report. Can we…does that sound okay?”

You nod against his shoulder, rubbing your face into the soft fabric of his shirt. It’s never ceased to entertain you that the clothing he wears when he goes out in to beat the shit out of people is some of the softest fabric you’ve touched. “I can do that.”

He exhales loudly against you, the air brushing against your ear. “Okay. Okay, sweetheart.” He pulls back, eyes shifting slightly across the muted gray of your kitchen counters, landing blindly on the one over your shoulder. He tilts your head back with a finger under your chin, and leans in to lay a soft kiss on the corner of your mouth. “Come lay down with me?”

You scrunch up your nose before a small smile lands briefly across your face. “You need a shower and to have that cut looked at.”

“But after?”

“After.”