#slowly adding changes and progress

[ic-napology]

I'm back after discovering a groundbreaking thing for grayscale-drawing me, coloured lineart

[im-not-a-ghost]

A portrait of your fated lover

Group 1

Cards : Agate - Find your solid ground, Knight of pentacles, Treat yourself eat what you want, Underworld, Newborn butterfly, Majestic stag " I honor my self worth by asking for what I want."

There's a predominance of Earth energy in this spread, especially Taurus energy. I also picked up on Venusian energy so Libra may be significant as well. This person's energy feels very feminine. I think it is safe to say that this person is a lover by nature. They are very caring, kind, generous on a daily basis but those qualities will be even more highlighted when they are with you. They have a very empathetic nature as well. Their sensitivity shows in the way they talk and in their gestures. They walk very slowly, their touch is deliberate and careful, their tone is reassuring and warm. They are very encouraging and supportive of others as well. I feel like your trope with this person would be friends to lovers. Connection to and through music seems very significant. Music could be part of their hobbies but it could also be their job. They need time to trust people but once their mind is made, this person does not back down until they get what they want. They have a steady and secure approach with relationships. They take the time to get to know the other and make sure that both partners are on the same wave length because they value stability and authenticity. When they are dating, they are in for the long run. They're not interested in short term connections. This person is family oriented and also career oriented so they would appreciate a partner that is respectful of their goals.

They definitely are a foody ! In the past, they may have struggled with their body image and physical health. They could have struggled with eating disorders. But now, this person is very conscious of what they eat. However, they do not deprive themselves of what makes them happy. They've worked really hard on their sense of worth and can now proudly say that they love themselves. They've gone through an important transformation in their life. This could have involved a physical glow up. But I feel like their mental state changed drastically as well, as I get the impression with the underworld card that they overcame a period of depression. With the energy of the stag, I feel like this person has stepped into their true power after many trials. I also pick up on the fact that they feel grateful for these challenges because they're aware of the role they played in their progress. They learned how to set their boundaries and ensure that their needs are met. They may have been neglected in past relationships.

They enjoy spending time alone in nature to get back to their center. If in the past they used to be surrounded by many people, they learned the hard way that sometimes being alone was better than being in bad company. This person now values their alone time and makes it a part of their routine. Speaking of routines, their energy feels quite organized and stable. This person likes for things to be explicit. They like to know in advance what their schedule will be, what people expect of them, what resources do they have and so on. Unpredictability may scare them. Physically, I feel like they're quite tall and fit. They put a lot of work into their health and their appearance. They dress aesthetically. Their physical traits are natural for the majority : they don't dye their hair, they likely do not have any piercing or tattoo, if they've had any surgery it isn't something that is appearant and it was likely done for health purposes only. They may not wear make up or if they do, they use very little amount of product. I get a very clean vibe from this group. Honestly, I feel like your person could be modeling for an ad. For some of you, that may be part of their job. Anyways, they are definitely good looking and I feel like you'll particularly enjoy looking at their face. They may have straight hair with bangs that hide their eyes. They may like to wear hoodies and beanies or caps a lot. I feel like their fashion style is rather genderless. What stands out the most is how clean and tidy it looks all together. They may go for a casual chic vibe more often.

This person has a very romantic vibe. They could mostly show affection through physical touch, acts of service, gift giving and quality time. Though they may be very artistic and don't have any difficulty communicating in their daily life, I feel like in an intimate setting they have a hard time finding their words. They may not say "I love you" very often but their actions will show you without a doubt that they do. They'll bring you your favorite food when you're feeling a bit down, surprise you when you least expect it because you deserve it, anticipate your needs, make significant gestures to help you on your journey. Their love feels slow and steady. They'll build a cocoon around you that you'll never want to leave because of how safe you feel in it. You'll never have to fear this person's reactions or wonder whether they're faking it. Everything they do is very genuine and deliberate. If they tell you they like you, they mean it. If they gift you something, they meant to. They don't have any second thought, any ulterior motive than to take care of you, nurture you and love you wholeheartedly.

Channeled song (s) : Jimin - Lie, BTS - Butterfly Extras : niche interests, book worm, ASMR enthusiast, workaholic, gamer, middle child, ESFP, ISTP, ENTJ

Group 2

Cards : 8 of pentacles, Chrysocolla - Be your own mama, I've got superpowers, The Observer, Sturdy crab, Eternal roots "Guidance is available to me now. I know that angels, ancestors and spirit guides are always at hand. I do not walk alone.

Okay, this is definitely my psychic / healer group. This person is a good mix of Earth and Water energy, especially Taurus, Scorpio and Cancer. This person has a hard time looking at themselves in the mirror. They struggle with their body image and they are not comfortable with showing their body. They are very modest and this could also be because of their cultural background. They are a hard worker to the point that when they're up to something they have a hard time stopping. They may stutter or have a hard time finding their words in public settings but in private they can be pretty elaborate. This person had to grow up very quickly and parent themselves. They could be working in a medical field or a position that requires them to care for others : teacher, paramedic, massage therapist, psychologist and so on. They use their hands a lot or they have the ability to provide healing through touch. They may also do a lot of manual activities as a hobby. They could have the ability to read into energies. This may or may not be a conscious thing. This person is possibly religious and/or interested in the occult.

They have a hard time trusting other people. They have a sturdy shell that not many have been able to see beyond. This person is alone most of the time. They have a hard time making connections. They may struggle with ASD. This person could be neurodivergent. They need a lot of quiet time to recharge. They could also struggle with mental health issues. This person has been through a lot, that's for sure. And despite all of that, they are the kindest and sweetest person you'll ever meet. In group settings, they tend to be like a mother. They cater to everyone's needs exept their own. They encourage and compliment others, make sure everyone's eaten and drunk their water, that everyone's had a proper sleep and is feeling good. But they forget themselves in the process. Physically, they have rather long hair. They can be quite curvy but I feel like what stands out the most about their appearance is that they hide behind a lot of clothing. They wear oversized clothes or clothes that aren't revealing. They may layer clothes a lot. If they wear skirts or dresses, those are quite long and flowy so that it doesn't stick to their body. Even in Summer, this person is covered up. This person masks a lot of their true self in public. This could be litteral in the sense that they wear an actual mask in public, maybe for health purposes for some. But it could also be metaphorical in the sense that they wear things or act in ways that is not relevant to who they are as a person. This is likely a defense mechanism and they may do so because they feel pressured. Of course, it could also mean that this person wears a veil in public.

In connections, I feel like they show their affection in all ways. They have no problem changing love languages to adapt to their partner's needs. This person feels like a chameleon a little. I think this could be related to their ability to mask certain aspects of themselves but also to their high levels of empathy. I am not given many details about their physique but more about their personality so it could also mean that looks don't matter to them. They also feel very balanced in their feminine and masculine. It could be possible that this person is gender neutral. I see a lot of green on the cards which relates to heart chakra energy. So this person has a lot of heart that they put into everything they do. They are a very genuine person that only wishes to love and be loved. Their shell isn't easy to crack but once you've earned their trust, you can be sure that they will treat you like royalty. They are 100% a giver and tend to be on the submissive side. In that sense, they feel a bit similar to group 1's person. Family is important to this person. They may wish to have a family of their own in the future. Like group 1's person, they are not into short term connections. They date for the long run. They look for a partner that can be understanding of their shadows and will not run away when things get difficult. This person is dealing with an abandonment wound. In past connections, they were mostly left out and never chosen. They may have been bullied as a child. This person is extremely loyal and dedicated to their lover. You will never have to doubt about this person's dedication and intentions.

Channeled song(s) : Mario theme, Naruto OST, Saliva - I walk alone (Dave Bautista entrance theme) Extras : words of affirmation, cultural differences, kinky 24/7, first born child, golden retriever vibes, ASMR enthusiast, ISTP, ENFJ

Group 3

Cards : Copper - Energize your whole world, Strength, Hierophant, Do what you love, Cunning fox, Forgotten arch "The more I honor my inner light the more I brighten the world. I choose to shine."

This group gives of fire and earth energy, especially Taurus, Leo and Sagittarius. There are two things that are striking about this person : their eyes and their voice. They are smart AF. If you were to debate with them, you wouldn't be able to win. They are very convincing people. And also very charming. They ooze confidence. This is someone that is very active physically, both for health purposes but also for fun. They are very passionate, bed time included. They are also very funny. They make a lot of snarky comments and sexual inuendos. They speak and type really fast. They cannot stay still. They have many interests and can pretty much do anything. They're an all rounder and a fast learner. They are very skilled and popular among their peers. They have core values that they would defend no matter what. They cannot stand injustice. This stems from past experiences, including romantic ones. They could have been cheated on by ex partners. This person may have been told quite frequently in their life that they were "too much", "too loud", "too noticeable". Which may have birthed a lot of resentment in this person as well as anger issues.

Physically they are quite bulky and impressive. They intimidate people just by their looks. There's something about them that's very warm. It could be because of their fashion style, their shining smile or their incredible charisma. They are intense. Not only because they are constantly on their guards and ready to fight but because their personality is complex and they have a lot of depth. This person may be religious. Or at least they're very traditional. If they define themselves as a man, they may be a bit of a machist. They have a very dominant energy. I feel like they're the type to believe in that alpha/beta/omega dynamic between people. And they want to be perceived as and embody that alpha energy. They come off as very masculine in their energy. So they may struggle with expressing their feminine side more. This person is likely to show affection through actions than words. They are definitely sensual and kinky. They have a lot of stamina. They are stubborn AF. But they're also incredibly uplifting and inspiring. This person is the type that would push their partner to be the best version of themselves and help them embrace their own light. I feel like they would challenge their partner, tease them a lot, bring out the more competitive side of them because they themselves are very competitive. They aren't afraid of depth and shadows so if their partner had any rocky past I feel like this person wouldn't mind. They're the "only matters the here and now" type.

This person has a very curious mind and I feel like that applies sexually. They may like to spice things up quite often. They may enjoy spicy food and boosting their stamina with certain herbs deemed as aphrodisiacs. They could believe in superstitions. Again, I get a very committed vibe from this group. If this person dates someone, they do it with the hope that it will lead to something long lasting. They are the most likely to commit very early on in relationships. They do not like to dwell on the past. I also feel like very early on this person will make you feel like royalty. They definitely pamper their partner and spoil them. Even though they may not be into PDA, I feel like this person will deliberately at times use physical touch to show others you are off limits. They definitely are the jealous and possessive type. They may be a bit rigid at first in connections and they need to be sure their partner is as serious as they are if they want to be able to release the need to control.

Channeled song(s) : The Final Countdown, Doodle - Changbin Extras : book worm, cultural differences, gift giving, kinky 24/7, drama queen/king, INTJ, ENTP, INTP, INFJ

[greengoblinswifey]

Torn— Drew Starkey x Nicholas Chavez x Actress!Reader

summary— you find yourself torn between your boyfriend drew starkey and your costar nicholas chavez. what starts as a weird dynamic with you feeling guilty turns into passion at a party, leading to a moment where all three of you come together.

warnings— explicit content. threesome, unprotected sex, anal and vaginal sex, double penetration, double creampie, oral, fingering, face fucking, polygamy, praise kink, fluff.

You had been with Drew Starkey for a while now, and your relationship had always been solid. He was steady, reliable, and made you feel secure. But everything changed when you started filming a new movie with Nicholas Chavez. From the moment you met him, there was an undeniable attraction, a magnetic pull that left you thinking about him more than you ever anticipated. It wasn’t just his good looks, there was something about his energy that pulled you in, leaving you feeling conflicted. You didn’t want to hurt Drew, but the connection with Nicholas was impossible to ignore.

As filming progressed, the chemistry between you and Nicholas became more intense. On-screen, your characters shared moments that felt a little too real, and off-screen, you found yourself getting lost in conversations with him. Drew noticed the shift. Instead of being jealous, though, he seemed curious, as if he could sense the spark between you and Nicholas, and, strangely, wasn’t bothered by it which went unnoticed by you. You were scared to bring up your feelings for Nicholas, afraid of what Drew might think, afraid of losing him. So, you stayed silent, trapped in a web of emotions.

Then, at a huge movie premiere party for the movie you filmed with Nicholas, everything came to a head. You had had a few drinks, and the atmosphere was buzzing with excitement. Drew and Nicholas both gravitated toward you throughout the night, their eyes never straying far. You felt the tension rising as they slowly closed in. Before you knew it, they had you cornered, Nicholas standing in front of you, his intense gaze holding yours, while Drew was behind you, his body pressing against yours and grinding, radiating heat.

“You okay?” Drew murmured in your ear, his voice low, but you could hear the underlying heat in it. His hands trailed over your hips, making your breath catch.

Before you could respond, Nicholas leaned in, his lips just inches from yours, his fingers lightly brushing your arm. “You’ve been thinking about me, haven’t you?”

Your pulse raced. The teasing note in his voice, combined with the way Drew’s body pressed against yours, had you feeling trapped in the best way possible.

“I- I don’t know what you mean,” you managed to whisper, though the way you trembled gave you away.

Nicholas smirked. “Don’t play dumb, you know exactly what I mean.”

Drew’s grip on your waist tightened. “You can be honest, you know,” he added, his voice almost a growl. “I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

Your mind was spinning. The music, the heat of their bodies, the weight of their attention, it was overwhelming. “I didn’t mean for this to happen,” you admitted, glancing between the two of them. “I didn’t want to hurt either of you.”

Drew chuckled softly. “Who said I’m hurt?” His lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “Maybe I’ve been thinking about this too.”

Nicholas’ fingers lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. “You’ve been stuck between us for a while, haven’t you?” he asked, his voice soft but commanding. “It’s okay, you don’t have to choose.”

Drunk on both alcohol and the intensity of the moment, you, Drew, and Nicholas ended up in your mansion together. The air was thick with unspoken desire, and everything felt like it had been leading to this moment.

Nicholas was the first to act, pulling you into a heated kiss while Drew watched, his eyes dark with hunger. “God, I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered against your lips, his hands roaming over your body. Drew’s eyes flickered between you and Nicholas, revealing that the connection you felt wasn’t just your imagination, it was real for all three of you.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” you breathed, your heart pounding as their hands explored your body.

Drew pressed a kiss to your neck, his voice raspy. “You feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin. “You have no idea how much we’ve both been wanting this.”

Nicholas smirked as his hands slipped under your dress, his touch sending electricity through your veins. “I think she knows now.” As their hands roamed over your body, you knew there was no going back.

“I want you,” Nicholas whispered against your skin as Drew's lips trailed down your collarbone. “Both of us do.”

Drew’s hands tightened on your waist as he kissed a path down your shoulder. “You’re ours,” he growled, and the intensity of their words sent your body into overdrive. He shoved you on the bed, his roughness matching with the tension in the air and he did something unexpected. Drew’s hands cupped Nicholas’ cheeks and their lips met in a passionate kiss filled with need that left you throbbing. You never expected this from either of them and it had you wanting more.

“I’ve waited so long to do that,” Drew said, pulling away.

They stared longingly at each other before turning their attention back to you. “Tonight’s about all of us baby, we’re gonna make you feel so good,” Nicholas smirked.

He removed your dress and your lacy undergarments, leaving you bare as Drew kissed you all over, eventually settling on your neck and finding that sweet spot that made you squirm.

“Beautiful isn’t she?” Drew asked, catching Nicholas taking in your naked figure.

“So fucking beautiful, she’s a masterpiece,” he replied.

They removed each other’s clothes, their eyes never leaving each other and you wondered when the dam would break between them. After, their attention was back on you with Nicholas spreading your legs on the bed and Drew hovering over your face, his cock hard and leaking with pre cum.

“I’m gonna make you feel good and you’re gonna make him feel good, is that a good deal baby?” Nicholas inquired. You nodded desperately, the dynamic between you leaving you aching.

Your mouth fell open and Drew took the opportunity to slide his cock inside as Nicholas’ tongue ravaged your pussy. You could barely focus on the cock fucking your mouth as Nicholas sucked and flicked your clit with his tongue, sending shivers all throughout your body. His tongue focused on your clit as he slipped a finger in your sopping cunt, curling it and immediately finding your g spot. You moaned around Drew’s cock, swirling your tongue and taking him as deep in your throat as you could without gagging.

“Fuck,” Drew moaned, “you fucking like that pretty girl? You like having another man’s mouth on your pussy and my big cock in your mouth?”

You tried answering, forgetting he was practically in your throat and he let out a chuckle, thrusting his hips at a steady pace. “Don’t talk with food in your mouth baby.”

Your legs began to shake as you could feel your orgasm approaching. Nicholas slipped a second finger and he engulfed his mouth on your clit, you felt like you were about to explode at any moment.

“I can feel how close you are baby, cum for me, cum for us,” Nicholas demanded, a dark glint in his eye as you looked down. Hearing the demand that you were to cum for the two men that you were insanely attracted to sent you over the edge, you moaned around Drew’s cock and his cum immediately spurted down your throat as your orgasm washed over you all over Nicholas’ mouth. Their moans filled the room before yours finally subsided as Nicholas’ tongue left your pussy.

“Wanna taste our girl?” he asked Drew. He nodded and with a smirk, Nicholas pulled him in, their lips connecting in a sloppy kiss and their tongues fighting for dominance. The scene before you was so erotic, all that was in your head was to have them do that as they were deep inside your holes. You needed them both.

“That’s so fucking hot,” you panted. Your pussy wet from the ordeal, “and now I need you both inside me, we can take it slow and romantic another time, I just want you both to fill me up.”

Nicholas’ cock was rock hard hearing your plea. Though he wanted to cum in your mouth, doing it inside you for the first time seemed more fitting and Drew agreed.

“You can get her pussy tonight, it’s yours now too, isn’t that right baby?” Drew asked, looking at you, his hands slowly pumping his thick cock.

“Yes sir,” you giggled, his words making you swoon.

Drew positioned himself under you, your body weight lying on top of him as his cock was pressed against your puckered hole. Nicholas stood in front of you slapping his heavy cock on your clit making you moan his name. He spat on Drew’s cock to lubricate it so he could enter your ass easier though this was not your first rodeo with Drew. He had a few kinks, something that Nicholas would soon discover.

They both positioned themselves at your entrances, you were about to be penetrated by two greek gods—at the same time.

“You ready baby?” Drew asked.

“You sure you wanna do this?” Nicholas followed up after.

“Shut up and fuck me, both of you,” you begged and your answer was enough.

Simultaneously, their cocks slowly penetrated you, the feeling of being full getting closer and closer.

“Fuck,” you all moaned in unison, the feeling was heaven. You were heaven.

“This ass is so fucking tight,” Drew moaned, steadily rutting into you.

“So is her pussy, fucking wet too,” Nicholas said, his hands moving to fondle your breasts.

The pressure of being filled on both ends left you breathless, every inch of your body trembling from the overwhelming intensity. Nicholas was deep in your wet pussy, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he rocked against you, his movements powerful and unrelenting. Under you, Drew’s deep thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, each one pushing you closer to the brink.

“You’re taking us so well,” Nicholas murmured, his voice thick with desire as his lips brushed against your ear.

Drew groaned from behind you, his hand trailing up your back as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels too good, doesn’t it? We’re not gonna stop until you can’t take anymore.”

You could feel both of them stretching you, their rhythm perfectly in sync, making you feel impossibly full. Every time Drew pushed in deeper from behind, Nicholas would thrust forward, their bodies meeting yours in perfect harmony. Your breath hitched with every movement, a moan escaping your lips as the sensation built.

“God, I can feel you squeezing us both,” Nicholas grunted, his hand sliding up your side, gripping you harder. “You like being ours, don’t you?”

Your fingers dug into Nicholas’s back as you tried to ground yourself, overwhelmed by the feeling of being completely surrounded, their bodies pressing into yours, both of them taking you at once. The fullness was almost too much, but in the best way, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

Drew’s voice rumbled behind you, low and full of need. “Just let go, baby. We’ve got you.”

Immediately, you convulsed underneath them, a primal moan in response to their filthy words and having their cocks buried deep inside you, you felt like you were on top of the world, having your vision blur and stars filling your head as the feeling of ecstasy overtook you.

After everything built up to a crescendo, your body trembled from the overwhelming sensations that swept through you. Your heart was still racing, breath shallow, as you lay back on Drew, feeling utterly spent. The warmth of Drew and Nicholas surrounding you only heightened the lingering aftershocks that pulsed through your limbs.

You felt so full, emotionally, physically, and mentally—like the weight of everything that had been brewing between the three of you had finally crashed over, leaving nothing but satisfaction in its wake. Your body ached in the best way, as though you’d been completely claimed by them, both in the way they touched you and the way they looked at you.

As they both reached their peak, it felt like the tension that had once existed between Drew and Nicholas dissolved completely, replaced with a sense of unity neither of them had anticipated. There was no longer a struggle over who you belonged to, it was a quiet, unspoken understanding that you were theirs, together, and they could share you in ways that felt right for all of you.

The warmth of their release spread inside your pussy and your ass, leaving you feeling impossibly full, every inch of you claimed in the most intimate way. Drew’s hand intertwined with Nicholas’ as they both caught their breath, chests rising.

The soft, lingering kisses that Nicholas pressed against your shoulder, combined with the feel of Drew’s fingers gently stroking your side, made you melt even further into the moment. It wasn’t just the physical release, it was the unspoken bond that had formed between the three of you, deeper than anything you’d experienced before.

Drew leaned in to kiss Nicholas, the once unexpected passion now flowing naturally between them. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your hand instinctively running down Nicholas' back, feeling the warmth of his skin as their lips met in a deep, lingering kiss. The heat of their connection sent a shiver through you, making the afterglow even more intoxicating.

Nicholas broke the kiss, breathless, turning to meet your gaze, his eyes softening. “I never knew it could be like this,” he whispered, leaning down to press a tender kiss to your lips. Drew followed, brushing a hand along your cheek as he nodded in agreement.

“We're all together now,” Drew murmured, his voice a quiet promise, before the three of you shifted, curling up together. The warmth of their bodies pressed against yours as they cuddled you between them, the moment filled with intimacy, not just passion.

Nicholas gently rubbed your shoulder as Drew wiped a cool cloth over your skin, cleaning you up with surprising tenderness. “You’re perfect,” Nicholas whispered against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. You could feel the weight of their attention, not just on your body but on the connection you all shared.

When they finished cleaning you, they turned to each other. Drew smirked, grabbing the cloth and running it teasingly over Nicholas’ chest. “Your turn,” he grinned, the air between them still charged but with a sweetness that hadn’t been there before.

Nicholas laughed, leaning into Drew’s touch. "Alright, alright,” he playfully relented, allowing Drew to clean him up before returning the favor.

Afterward, they both wrapped their arms around you again, the three of you sinking into the bed, completely content. You felt the lingering warmth of their presence, not just in your body but in the calm, comfortable silence that followed.

“We’re not letting you go,” Drew whispered, his hand stroking your hair gently.

Nicholas pressed another soft kiss to your neck, “Not now, not ever.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a contented sigh as your mind swam in the aftermath, your body feeling weightless and warm, cocooned in their presence. Full, cherished, completely theirs—and nothing else mattered.

[namedaftercommunists]

'Promise? Pt. 2' Daisuke (Mouthwashing) X Reader

[Story takes place after he boarded the Tulpa] [Angst] [Platonic and-or Romantic] [Gender Neutral Reader] [Mentions of Suicide] “Hey.” A voice calls out, slowly rousing you awake, your eyes are heavy -as if they weren’t actually open.

“Wakey -wakey.” The voice calls out again, the hand petting your hair slowly registering on your mind. With a small turn to lie on your back, you’re greeted with the familiar beauty mark-laden face of Daisuke a boyish grin on his face as he looks down on you.

“Mornin’” He jokingly greets with a small chuckle -the open, chilly night sky right behind him. It’s a shame the city lights drowned out the twinkling stars above.

You let out a tired groan at this -burying your face in his lap again, making Daisuke pout as you try to undo his progress in waking you up.

“Oh come on.” Daisuke half-heartedly complains before turning you on your back again. “My legs are asleep -get up.” He whines out a complaint.

You only feign deafness to this though, and it isn’t until he takes off the jacket you drape yourself with do you let out your own whine of complaint - the air pricks at your skin.

“Put it back.” You groan out -too stubborn to take your head off his lap. “Get up.” He repeats with an exasperated tone before threatening to push you off to the rooftop pavement below you with a soft shove.

This finally gets you to move, but not without grumbling your complaints under your breath. He only chuckles at this.

“Your hair is a mess.” Daisuke comments with a laugh, before taming your hair with hands. “Like you didn’t make this mess in the first place.” You say with a scoff and a tired roll of your eyes, knowing full well it’s his petting that got your hair sticking out all over in the first place.

“Give me back my jacket.” You grumble out, snatching the jersey off his shoulder. “‘Your’ jacket?” Daisuke parrots back with a knowing, boyish grin.

“Technically mine. I wear it more than you do.” You say with a cheeky shrug and grin, wearing his old jersey -only a size too big on you. If anything -it just added to the look you were going for.

“Sure it is.” Daisuke sarcastically says with his own chuckle, the feeling on his legs coming back as you sit beside him on the rooftop.

There’s a short comfortable silence between you two -as you both look at the city ‘view’. There’s not much to see really, just the side of other buildings with advertisement boards and flyers pasted over the aging concrete walls. It’s a view you both had long familiarized yourself with and grew to see change over the years.

“I missed you,” Daisuke says, his voice soft as he leans his side to yours. To say you’re confused by this is an understatement. You just saw each other yesterday, right?

For some reason though, you can’t physically bring yourself to ask what he means by that. So you stay silent, leaning back on his slightly taller frame.

That’s weird -why does he feel thinner? You were sure he gained a fair bit of muscle over the years -not lose them.

“Like, I missed you....a lot.” He continues -his hand now slowly creeping up to intertwine with yours. It was cold, his hand was cold. Colder than it should be -even with the chilly night air pricking the both of you.

Something in your gut tells you to not look back at him -to continue looking at the aging city walls and dim city light in front of you. To keep your eyes ahead, and not on Daisuke. Not on the man you basically grew up with. He seems to breathe a sigh of relief at this.

“You were right.” He says once more, and it sounds as though his voice is slowly getting drowned out by the noise of city engines and machinery from below.

Finally, you will your mouth to move and have your voice cut through the air. “About what?” You ask, confused, your hand tightening around his. It feels bonier.

Dread creeps up your spine.

“About me dying up there.”

~

“I told you.” You barely croak out, the words heavy, cracked, and hoarse from all the crying you’ve been doing this week. Your body feels weak. It's a miracle you managed to get up from bed, dress yourself, and even stand right now.

Your mouth reeks of tobacco -and it tastes like it too. You’ve long since gone back to smoking real cigarettes. There’s no one to nag you about it anymore -so what’s the point in sucking on a cleaner alternative when you can get the real thing.

You can’t bring yourself to look down on what you’re holding onto, the hand in yours is bony, cold, and lifeless.

There’s a picture of a younger Daisuke on top of the casket glass. It’s a picture his parents vehemently hated before -despite it being his formal graduation photo.

Daiuke’s cap was tilted, and the tassel was already moved to the other side. He sported an outgrown mullet in the picture -it’s a look he liked but you found stupid. His next haircut was better -at least, by your standards.

Despite his parents hating the picture from before, they can’t help but feel it encapsulated -him- best.

They didn’t want to put up the picture of him in the suit he wore to his aunt’s wedding -looking uncomfortable and out of his element despite looking formal and proper.

You can’t help but agree with the decision.

“Am I being selfish?” You softly ask, and no one answers.

“I don’t want to look at you.” You continue, still holding onto the bony hand you only found by softly patting around the cushion of his casket.

“I don’t want to look at you.” You repeat with a choked sob -tears pricking at your eyes, a familiar feeling now.

From what the other guests, his parents, and yours said -you know it’s not a pretty sight. Not that a dead person was ever pretty to look at.

You know he’s lost weight, that much is obvious with how the bones of his knuckles were protruding from his hand. He barely had any meat, his body was reduced to that of skin and bones.

You didn’t know anything more -not that you want to. You walked away the moment you heard anyone start to describe his body.

You didn’t want to look down. To look down at who is -was- essentially your best friend, your other half, and see something -someone- you don’t recognize.

You were selfish. You wanted to remember him as the cute boy you grew up with all this time, with that lopsided grin and warm brown eyes looking into yours -skin pink and warm with life, with beauty marks on his face that you almost always stared at.

You didn’t want to see him for the dead body that he is now. The last thing you wanted was to replace the image of smiling, laughing Daisuke with the image of his corpse.

“They’re going to bury you in a bit.” You say, and again, no one answers.

“I got you some things to entertain yourself with.” You continue, slipping a catalog of the latest game releases, his vintage mp3 player, headphones, and finally -the notebook you’ve been writing on every day he was up in the Tulpa- next to him.

It’s a thick, bulky notebook -you never seemed to get enough of writing on its pages, not wanting Daisuke to miss out on any details, no matter how small.

“I’m still halfway through yours.” You admit, still rubbing your thumb on the bone of his knuckles.

“I’ll visit your senior sometime. He’s getting buried a few cities away from here.” You say, regarding the bulky, grumpy mechanic -Swansea- he almost always wrote nicely about.

A short silence deafens you, before finally, the dam in your eyes erupts -tears staining your face once more.

“I hope I get to see you again.” You choke out, holding onto his hand so desperately, as if you could squeeze back some warmth, some life, back into his body.

“I -really- hope I get to see you again.” You repeat, hiccuping, and your breath laboring.

“I don't care where or how, but I need to beat you black and blue --for getting on that ship.” You say with a cracked laugh, your breath getting caught in between each sob you let out.

“--for leaving me behind.” You finally cry out, forced to lean on the white casket you had the misfortune and privilege of decorating -per the request of his parents.

You’re allotted a few more moments with him before you’re finally ushered away by your father, the sound of Daisuke’s mother wailing and crying in his casket replacing yours.

It’s cold out, and Daisuke’s ship diary weighs heavily in your coat pocket -but so does the gun on your side. It’s anybody’s guess which one you’ll grab for in your bedroom tonight.

[angrythingstarlight]

I can’t imagine this happening but has Bucky ever yelled at Malyshka ?

He did raise his voice once the night she gave her bodyguards the slip, they had a fight and the next morning, they were both a little on edge.

Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader

CW: Smut, implied arguments, dom/sub dynamics.

AN: Written on my phone and unbetad.

☆Mafia Masterlist☆Bumblebee Series

"Excuse me?" Your tone is soft, almost curious, it belies the glare you're leveling his way. "Tell me again what I can't do?"

Bucky grits his teeth, the muscle in his jaw ticks. He never meant for this fight to spill over into the next morning. He had planned on apologizing until he saw you packing your bag for your bachelorette party.

A whole day early.

Jealous and an unfamiliar emotion roiling in the depths of chest had his tongue moving faster than his brain. His chance to make things right went up in flames the second his mouth opened and he told you that you couldn't have any dancers at your party.

What he really meant to say was he needed more time with you after yesterday.

Instantly all the progress he made last night was eradicated. Now he's desperately wavering between holding on to his pride and risking making things worse or begging for forgiveness.

"Malyshka—"

"Don't Malyshka me, James." You step up to him, wrapping your hand around his obsidian tie, you yank him down to your level. Taking your phone out of your pocket, you manage to call your best friend without breaking eye contact with him. She picks up on the second ring. Her greeting echoes through the quiet bedroom.

"Hey girl, listen you know how I said I wanted to keep things low key and girls only for my party?" you respond, pulling him even closer so your lips are almost touching.

You don't want him to miss a single word.

"I changed my mind. I want it all. Strippers. Lap dances—"Bucky's brows knit and his deep blue eyes take on a dangerous glint. "Matter of fact, instead of one night let's make it the whole weekend. You think you can still get us into that club?"

"Hell yeah," she exclaims, immediately rattling off all the places she's going to take you this weekend. He nods slowly, murmuring something under his breath.

"Can't wait," you say, grinning wickedly. Taking his bottom lip between your teeth, you bite down and watch his eyes darken. You hang up, letting him go at the same time. Abruptly spinning on your heel, you head back to the bed and open up your overnight bag. Critically eyeing everything you already packed, you toss out the sweatpants. "I won't be needing these anymore."

Bucky watches as you stroll over to the dresser and pull out a handful of lingerie. "These will look much better on me. How touchy do these lap dances get? I never gotten one before so I better get my money's worth."

"Malyshka," he chuckles, his voice deepening to a near growl, the sound sends a pulse of heat down your belly. "I thought I explained to you last night what happens when you don't listen to me."

He catches the way you shiver as the memories of last night replay in your head.

The room fills with your frantic cries of dontstopBucky and mindless pleas for more and more. Sweat rolls down your back, your hands clawing at his shoulders, trying to get a hold of something, anything as he bounces your trembling body on his cock.

He made you promise to never leave without protection, to call him first before acting brazenly, to not scare him again.

He made you promise a lot last night, half of which you don't even remember, so drunk off mind-blowing pleasure that everything became a haze after the fifth, maybe sixth, time Bucky brought you to your peak.

"Guess I forgot." You say, defiantly meeting his sharp gaze and select his favorite pair of panties, deliberately adding them to the pile you're making.

A smirk stretches across his plush lips and he casually walks to you, pinning you to the dresser with his large body. Clasping your chin in his hand, he tilts your face up as his calloused thumb sweeps across your cheek. "I'll remind you."

"Apologize first," you demand, your breath coming out on a shaky exhale. Even when you're mad at him, you still need him. But that doesn't mean you won't make him work for it.

"Do you want me to say it—" Bucky shrugs off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves, keeping you in place with a firm press of his hips. He drops his hand between your bodies and gently cups your pussy. "—or get down on my knees and show you how sorry I am? You know what they say about actions meaning more than words."

It's not a difficult decision.

"I want both."

"That's my girl." His lips graze your ear, his bartione rolls across your skin, a heady pulse flaring between your thighs. "And have your little fun this weekend but I swear I'm about to fuck you so good, you're going to feel me inside you the entire time."

We'll explore the bodyguard incident and the bachelorette/bachelor parties in more detail. Do you really think Bucky will let her get that lap dance? 👀

[eringobragh420]

-`♡´- BAD HABITS (1/3)

➔ Pairing — Damian Priest ♡ f!Reader ➔ Summary — Damian and his best friend help each other cum on a regular basis, and as long as they don't touch each other, it can't ruin their friendship. But maybe sometimes friendships need to be ruined? (Part 1/3) ➔ Word Count — 1.6k ➔ Warnings — NSFW. Dirty talk, masturbation (m and f), spitting, cum 18+ ➔ Notes — Spanish translations are at the end of the story provided by Google Translate.  ➔ Taglist — If you’d like to be added, please click here!  ➔ Support — Buy me a coffee! ☕ ➔ MASTERLIST

Stretching, she slowly drifted into consciousness, heavy-lidded eyes blinking open. Disorientation consumed her momentarily until she remembered she was no longer home in Florida—no, her best friend had surprised her by taking her with him as he toured Europe with the WWE—but essentially vacationing in (for now) Barcelona, Spain. She smiled with one final stretch before climbing out of bed and heading for the shared bathroom in their two-bedroom hotel suite. She and Damian had crashed in their respective rooms the moment they’d arrived—the more than eight hours of flying, coupled with the time change, easily exhausting them.

Finishing her business, she took one step toward her room and stopped. Her eyes searched the darkness as she listened, unsure if she’d heard anything in the first place. There. The corners of her mouth twitched, her lip tucking itself under her teeth as she waited for one more confirmation sound, which came in the form of a delicious groan, and she pivoted, now bound for Damian’s room. He’d left his door ajar, surely on purpose, and her smile grew while she gripped the knob, inaudibly pushing it open.

The black-out curtains used to shield the only window in the room were now open, allowing the city lights and illumination from the moon to paint her best friend—who also just so happened to be the sexiest man alive—in all shades of blues and grays, as well as hard-edged shadows that made him seem even larger than his six-five frame as he lay with his back to the headboard of the luxurious bed, long legs stretched out in front of him. Shirtless, he had one arm bent, tattooed bicep flexed, his hand cushioning the back of his head. Her eyes followed the colorful map on his arm to his broad chest, to his powerful abs and chiseled V-lines. All the way down to his other huge hand, which was wrapped around his equally huge cock, tugging leisurely, hips rolling to meet each stroke.

As much as she wanted to—and would—join in, she loved to simply watch him please himself. Licking her lips, her own hand slid south toward her already aching pussy. Damian moaned, swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing, and his thick thighs shifted. The tips of her fingers had just slipped beneath her panties, but she halted their progress as Damian’s body came alive—he was closer than she’d anticipated, so her pleasure would just have to wait. Damian needed her. 

“You could’ve called me,” she broke the silence softly. Damian jumped, his hand pausing, and upon realizing who it was, he glared at her. “You know I would’ve answered.” 

“I heard you snoring all the way in here,” Damian replied, eyes closing as he resumed jerking himself. 

“That’s what got you in such a state, huh?”

Damian chuckled. “Yeah, somethin’ like that. Now bring your ass over here.”

She didn’t need to be told twice before practically skipping across the room and hopping onto her knees on the bed beside Damian, though forcing herself to leave at least an inch of space between them. That was Rule Number One: No Touching. And if they didn’t follow the rules, the both of them irrationally reasoned, the friendship between them that they held so dearly would be ruined. She leaned as closely as possible to him, her mouth to his ear, gently ghosting cool air along Damian’s hot skin, and he thanked her with a strangled groan from deep in his throat.

Glancing down at his working hand, she whispered, “Do the thing.”

Damian turned his head to look at her, and it was her turn to feel his breath across her neck. Her cunt throbbed, but she forced herself to ignore it—she didn’t want to lose focus on Damian. She blinked sluggishly as her best friend released the hold he had on his dick, letting the heavy, girthy flesh smack against his lower belly. He made her squirm for several moments before he finally did the thing—flexing muscles deep within to make his cock bounce without assistance from his hands. He did it twice more, resuming his stroking shortly after. 

“I don’t know why I love that so much,” she admitted. 

Oh, but she knew exactly why she loved it so much.

“Now you do the thing,” Damian rumbled.

Smirk expanding on her lips, she sat back on her heels and lifted her shirt over her head, the both of them knowing she never wore a bra if she didn’t absolutely have to. Damian’s blown pupils glazed over as he enjoyed the show of his best friend massaging her tits for him, flicking her nipples until they were pebbles begging to be sucked, licked, worshipped. She even raised her arms and jiggled them back and forth, giggling as she did so.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” Damian sighed, shaking his head. Her heart tingled and her stomach flipped like they did every time he told her she was perfect because sometimes she believed he thought she was perfect, and not just flinging compliments as he neared orgasm.

She placed her fists on the mattress next to him, arching her back, and Damian’s hips were now meeting each stroke of his hand. “Almost as perfect as—” 

“I have to taste you,” Damian breathed.

Her body stilled as she searched his face, his entire body working overtime as he chased his high. Her first instinct was to acquiesce—press her lips to his with no regard whatsoever for the aftermath even if it meant losing her best friend, because at least she would have gotten a taste, at least she would have felt him. But their friendship trumped either of their needs, and since she was the one with the clearest head at the moment, the responsibility fell to her to dash their desires. 

“But it’s against the rules,” she whispered, lacking any conviction. 

“I don’t—” Damian stammered. “I can’t fucking cum. Please, angelita.” 

She gulped, knees almost buckling, heart hammering and cracking against her ribcage. Damian panted beside her, abs clenching, biceps flexing, thighs quaking and promising to graze against her own if she didn’t put more space between them. But she couldn’t. Not with the most important person in her life begging her to help him cum. They’d done this many times before, one talking the other to and through their most intimate moments, but Damian had never sounded like this before—so fucking desperate and needy. For her.  She’d never known him not to be able to shoot his huge load all over abs, sometimes even hitting his chest, no matter how exhausted or sore or stressed he was—he truly must have needed help.

She couldn’t be the level-headed one anymore. She should have expected or at least considered that the day would come when talking just wasn’t enough. 

“Open your mouth,” she gently ordered.

Damian did as he was told—a thrill surging through her veins at his instant obedience—as she leaned over him, opening her own mouth and extending her tongue. The drool that had collected from witnessing Damian Priest jerk off dripped off her tongue and onto his, Damian gasping as her flavor coated his mouth. 

“Christ,” he whispered, eyes closing. “You taste … I’m gonna fucking—” 

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” she encouraged, fingers itching to scratch at Damian’s heaving chest, to squeeze his bouncing bicep, to slap his hand away and stroke him to completion herself. But she’d already done too much, they’d already crossed a line they’d agreed never to cross. Damian whimpered. The man fucking whimpered, his eyebrows knitting together, hand a blur on his rigid dick. “Cum for your precious angelita,” she purred.

The big man’s back arched, and her eyes shifted just in time to witness the first rope of cum land on his abs. More saliva accumulated in her mouth as she watched him virtually douse himself in sticky sweet cream that she dreamt of licking off him, that she wished she could lick off him, that she just knew tasted better than every single other man on the planet. After he drained his balls, and ignoring the rather impressive mess he’d made of himself, Damian’s body finally began to relax, head even dipping closer to his shoulder.

She thought about grabbing a warm, wet towel and cleaning her friend off, but decided against it, trying to convince herself it wasn’t because she knew he’d be pissed when he woke up the next morning with dried cum stuck to his skin, but the idiotic grin on her lips suggested otherwise. Carefully she climbed out of bed, grabbing her shirt—one of Damian’s newer merch shirts; the one that looked like a tarot card, and her new personal favorite. 

“Do you need me?” His voice was swathed in sleep, and he didn’t seem to be fully conscious, but somehow, somewhere, he was aware of the past sequence of events—one helped the other get off and then the other returned the favor. His concern with whether or not she got hers was sweet, and she stopped herself before she read any further into something she knew would only bring her heartache.

Heartache. 

Fucking hell, what was she doing? 

“I need you to go to sleep,” she whispered.

She rushed from Damian’s room, quietly closing the door, all but jogging back to her room and closing that door before collapsing face-first on the bed. Her knees slid under her body, ass raising toward the ceiling, and she spread her thighs as she slid her soaked panties aside. 

“Fuck,” she sobbed, rubbing her heated face along the soft sheets, fingers slipping within her folds, finding her slick clit swollen and throbbing and yes, she did need Damian. “I need you,” she breathed, rolling her hips to meet the circular motion of her fingers, easily bringing herself to climax, biting down on the blanket to refrain from screaming his name. “I need you so fucking bad,” she whimpered instead, spent body crumpling to the mattress.

જ⁀➴°⋆ Angelita — Little angel

TAGLIST: @southerngirl41 @femdisa @riverina69 @rollinssection @paramedicnerd004 @mandmilovehim @brianochka @yourmommyagone22 @sweetmoonlove0214 @partypoison00 @lils2795 @aureliacorvina @magicalbuttertarts @madimcg14 @thealliasylum @lov3rla03 @plaidpajamallama @princesstiti14 @the-whatever-22 @jeypunkk @madhatterbri @atomicskincareeyelinerkid @aceywaycy @riddleebabyy @pittieprincess22 @cyberdejos2 @brideofinfamy @rainbowdreams-x @headcaseproductions1 @bearbutlikeprincessbear @terrortwinunicorn @dontcrykeepyourheaduphigh @loki69zowens @fearlesschimera @rockerfairy93 @misslackey @nichole1989 @hc-geralt-23 @miss-kuki-nz @damianpriestfangirl82 @elaineoneill570 @infamousvampcx @rheasfingerpuppet @gracy09 @lizzycaraballo-blog @rk-ho @bloodline-fanacc @moonlightsinner @skyesthebomb

[rika-mmendmethings]

Interdimensional Epiphany l Rafayel

CHAPTER 3

Chapter 2 | Chapter 4

Summary: A fortnight of compensated leave from your company was supposed to be a rejuvenating experience. Things take an unexpected turn when Rafayel, your choice of ML, starts becoming self-aware. His love knows no bounds, not even interdimensional ones.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. The series has major character deaths, subdued manipulation, heavy angst with a happy(?) ending, slight yandere themes, fluff, did I mention angst? For this chapter, obsession, yearning (I'm so bad at tagging send help)

Word count: 1.7k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: The schedule for this series and Against Blood & Water has been switched, so new chapter every Thursday from now! This chapter is shorter because I got hit by writing block so forgive me y'all but the next one is about to be BIG big. Keep in mind, that as cute and a total man-child Rafayel is; he can also be vengeful and undeterred from what we've seen in his anecdotes. If you feel that this is too serious for him, then you simply need a better understanding of the red-flag side of Rafayel shown in some parts of the game. This story circles partially around that side of his as well, so I don't feel it should be that much uncharacteristic. Mikayla is the name of the mc in this fic and aside from Rafayel no-one else is aware of being a video game character. Anyways, hopefully you enjoy the read and stay tuned for the series. Lmk if you wish to be added to the tag list for this. ♥

Taglist: @loveanddeephistory @ittybittyfanblog @lyssandraxo @micasosa34 @hyein21 @browneyedgirl22 @yournextdoorhousewitch @blessdunrest @altair718 @3fg7 @froleineeeee @mikachux3 @aiehtta @beaconsxd @poptrim @animecrazy76 @zackenblacken @rainycreationfart @invaderzia1 @his-ocean-emissary

In a dimly lit studio, Rafayel sits at his easel, brush in hand, but his attention is far from the canvas. The strokes he makes are erratic and disconnected, as though his mind is somewhere else entirely — which it is. The woman he intends to paint — you — the one who occupies his every thought, is not physically there, but your image fills every canvas in the room. He knows your face in the details of his daydreams and in the short time he sees you — the cupid bow of your lips, the way your hair cascades like a waterfall around your face, the rounded curve of your eyes. But today, he’s not interested in accuracy.

The paint smudges onto the canvas, a blur of colors that vaguely resemble a figure, but nothing more. A quick swipe of cerulean blue for a dress, a few scattered strokes of brown for your hair, but nothing to capture the essence of who you are, only the feeling of you. His movements are slow, almost hesitant as if he’s trying to pull you out of his thoughts and into reality but struggling against the weight of his emotions.

His gaze drifts away from the painting, shifting toward the other canvases scattered across the room. Most of them are carefully hung on the walls, and when the walls can no longer accommodate the overflow, he places the remaining canvases on the floor, ensuring that each one remains visible. They all share a single, unifying theme: they are all portraits of you.

He turns his attention back to the canvas before him. It is yet another depiction of you, this time in a flowing cerulean dress, your feet gently immersed in waters that conceal his hidden sanctuary beneath. The image is a reflection of his vision—an idealized representation of the subject that has so recently overtaken his thoughts, dreams, canvases, and heart.

You look like the sparkles of the ocean on an early summer morning.

He raises his hand slowly, still lost in reverie, his fingers lightly grazing your painted figure with a tenderness that has always eluded him. He fantasizes about what it would be like to stand beside you, to kiss the radiant smiles from your lips in the hope of capturing even a fraction of your boundless joy.

There is no urgency in his movements as he attempts to translate the depth of his emotions onto the canvas. You are not meant to be confined within the boundaries of this frame; you are meant to be with him, to be by his side.

His dusky eyes shift to a vivid ultramarine blue, and glowing scales of the same hue begin to emerge along his cheekbones and neck. With deliberate slowness, he leans in and presses a lingering kiss to the canvas, as though the paint could somehow hold the essence of your lips.

He had waited all of yesterday, but not once did you "log in." In the end, he didn’t get the chance to see your face. His longing turned to frustration, which poured itself out onto the multiple canvases now scattered around him. He had painted in a frenzy, driven by a sense of hysteria, but as time wore on and the number of filled canvases grew, his heart sank deeper into an overwhelming sadness. The prolonged distance from you forced him to confront the bitter reality that you existed in a world entirely different from his own, and that he was, at best, a fleeting interest to you.

He yearned to bridge the chasm between your worlds.

Determined, he rose from his seat, deciding to visit Destiny Cafe once more, hoping that today, perhaps, you'd logged in.

He washed the dried paint from his hands and stepped out of his studio. As he opened the door, he was met with the sight of Mikayla standing on the other side, her fist raised mid-knock. He briefly searched his memory, trying to recall if they'd planned something for today, but her voice cut through his thoughts.

"I know you’re surprised, Rafayel. I wanted to surprise you since I didn’t have anything keeping me tied to my desk today, so here I am." She gestured dramatically, flashing him a grin. "Surprise!"

He frowned, replying half-heartedly, "While I appreciate the gesture, MC... I really have urgent matters to attend to right now. Can we do this another time?"

She planted her hands on her hips, her tone tinged with mockery. "What? Since when did you start getting busy?"

His fingers twitched involuntarily, a fleeting desire to draw his dagger against her rising but that’d mean going against his well-laid plans to resurrect Lemuria… He couldn’t afford that.

"Well, since now," he snapped, his words sharp as he pushed past her, his impatience evident. "So if you’ll excuse me, I really must be going." And with that, he made his way toward Destiny Cafe, the door swinging shut behind him.

You tapped impatiently at the loading screen of the game, settling deeper into the warmth of your armchair. As the screen flickered to life, you were greeted by the sight of a clearly frantic Rafayel, who seemed to instantly calm the moment his gaze fell on you. Before you could even blink, he broke the silence.

“Where were you?” His voice carried a subtle edge of barely concealed concern. You noticed that his words didn’t show up in the speech bubble again.

You exhaled a soft, amused sound, mildly impressed by the devs' decision to enhance the game's interactions with features like these to ensure players didn't miss a day. Deciding to humor the thought, you spoke aloud, as though addressing no one in particular, “My friends from college showed up yesterday and whisked me away on a spontaneous girls' trip. I didn't even get a chance to pack. Ended up buying a few clothes while we were there. The whole day was a whirlwind, and I barely had time to log in for my daily rewards or stamina. So, that’s that."

You watched him nod slowly in response, though you couldn't help but chuckle at the thought that he might actually understand what you meant.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from him. You quickly opened it and found yourself momentarily stunned by what you saw.

Sushi nom nom: Maybe you could let me know next time...?

You blinked once. Then twice. Your jaw practically hit the floor. Staring at the message, you couldn’t quite process what you were reading. What caught your attention next was the absence of the usual three automated replies you'd get from him. When you tapped the text box to reply, it opened with an actual cursor, something that had never happened before. You briefly wondered if this was a result of recently maxing out his affinity. It was the only logical explanation, after all.

Still dazed, you responded with a simple thumbs-up, then closed his chat window — only to be greeted by yet another unexpected surprise. None of the other characters’ chat boxes appeared in your messages. There were old, programmed messages from Twinkle Toys, Tara, and Linkon City Hall, but nothing from any of the other leads. You switched between the tabs — the calls, then the moments posts — but none of their accounts were visible.

Frustrated, you returned to Destiny Cafe and screamed aloud when you opened the memories tab. There weren’t even options for the other characters in the header. You had wasted so much money to obtain Beyond Cloudfall and rank it up, only for it all to disappear. You checked everything — Playtime, Deepspace Trials — but it was as if the other four characters had vanished into thin air. The only character left was Rafayel.

You went back to Destiny Cafe’s interface, and there he was, sitting on the armchair, inspecting his nails with an air of casual aloofness. A hundred questions flooded your mind: How? Why? Did the game glitch? You shook off the storm of thoughts, taking a deep breath before setting your phone face down on the plush fabric of your armchair. After a few seconds of holding your breath, you exhaled and picked your phone back up. You checked the memories tab again. Nothing. There was no change. The only option available was Rafayel.

Listless, you returned to the home screen, but then Rafayel’s voice sliced through the silence.

“What? You thought putting your phone down for a while would bring them back?”

You froze completely. The only sign that you were alive was the occasional fluttering of your eyelids. Rafayel stood up from the armchair and walked toward the screen, hands stuffed in his pockets. He outright smirked, leaning forward as he stated, “They’re gone for good. All that’s left of them is nothing. Zero. Zip. Zilch. Nada. Niente.”

He didn’t even look sorry as he said it, and right now, that was the least of your concerns. You subconsciously noted the lack of his speech bubble or captions once again. 

This was it. The mod you had downloaded back in your early Love and Deep Space phase, driven by the greed of securing an unlimited supply of red dias and crystals, was finally catching up with you. The consequences were here. Your phone had been hacked.

"Shocker, hm?"

His voice broke the silence, and you instinctively dropped your phone, watching it clatter onto the table. Without thinking, you dove under your blanket, burying yourself in its soft folds, seeking some semblance of comfort, some escape from the growing dread. You stayed hidden for what felt like an eternity, ten minutes at least, before you dared to peek out, your eyes slowly lifting to glance at your phone.

Rafayel’s lips curled into a faint smile as he observed your wide eyes, the disheveled state of your hair sticking out in all directions from the static electricity. He didn’t even bother to mask the amusement in his gaze.

"Adorable," he remarked with a smirk, clearly relishing the flustered expression on your face.

You sank deeper into your armchair, burying your face in your hands in a futile attempt to shield yourself from the absurdity of it all. Here you were, trapped in a situation you couldn't even begin to comprehend, and still, you couldn't shake the fact that you were being charmed by a 2D character — a handsome, fictional man who didn’t even exist... or did he?

Maybe it was better for your brain to get fried every Friday than dealing with whatever this was. And here you thought your compensated leave time was going too good to be true…

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[mrrharper]

Desperation In College

Mike needed to change his life. With his third year of college beginning, he felt like he was wasting his valuable time on Earth. No friends, no real hobbies, no plan for the future. He was passing classes and progressing through his degree thanks to inertia alone.

So it was no surprise that when he saw a bizarre ad online for a pair of "life changing" underwear, he bought it instantly. 24 hours later a package arrived and he eagerly opened it. Inside he saw a jockstrap with the words Under Armour clearly visible. For a moment he doubted what he read on the advertisement - it was only a pair of underwear, and a type he never bought or wore himself. But he shrugged these doubts off, saying to himself that it wouldn't hurt trying them on.

For the next two days he wore only the UA jockstrap. It took a moment getting used to being so exposed underneath his pants, but... it was fine after a while. As the second full day was coming to an end Mike noted that his life has not yet experienced a "dramatic, 180 degrees turn you need to experience". But it was still a decent pair of underwear.

It was dark outside and he contemplated going to bed, but realized he hadn't jerked off in a while, and thus had some pent up horny energy within him. He sat down on his bed and leaned against the wall. Then he started massaging his member through the jockstrap with his left hand and looking for his phone with his right. But before he did, he felt a weird sensation around his bulge. As his cock got harder, the material around it began moving and after just a few seconds it looked like Mike's jockstrap was rubbing itself against his dick, jacking him off. The waves of pleasure that hit Mike immediately after, completely overwhelming him.

The jockstrap sped up its movements and Mike closed his eyes, experiencing pure bliss. While his senses were on the verge of shutting down he did not see his whole body quickly inflating, bulk appearing everywhere. His arms and legs got thicker, his pecs turned into meaty pillows, his stomach muscles appeared underneath them, veins popped out on his shoulders and neck.

Mike's hand instinctively moved towards his bulge and he began helping his seemingly sentient jockstrap in massaging his cock, which throughout this transformation got at least 3 inches longer.

With this much stimulation it didn't take long before Mike experienced the most intense orgasm of his life, cum covering his dick, which was tightly enclosed by the jockstrap. He slowly stood up, his mind mostly blank. He went into the bathroom and the moment he saw himself in the mirror, a cocky grin appeared on his face and he began flexing his newly acquired muscles.

The thing was, for him they were not "newly acquired" because Mike no longer existed. In his place was MJ, vice president of the Alpha Psi Delta fraternity, known by everyone on campus. He was a star receiver on the football team who never showed up to class. Instead, he spent time banging as many chicks as he could in empty rooms. Then at night, he had his ass pounded by a few of his frat bros, of course after proudly saying the phrase "no homo", which was then followed by some aggressive anal sex. He was dumb as a pile of rocks, frequently violent, arrogant and crude, a cocky grin always on his face.

He was exactly the same as all of his bros, basically a copy of every other jock on campus. And he absolutely loved it.

[inuyashaluver]

if you do start doing player x r x player you could do one with leah and alessia 👀

slice of life - alessia russo, leah williamson

alessia russo x leah williamson x reader

description: in which you and your two girlfriends enjoy life together

warnings: i am not shipping these girls together THIS IS FICTION, LOVES, polyamory, i dont really think there's many warnings?

a/n: another fic for my lovelies and its a THROUPLE?! this was actually so fun to write but it’s SOOO RANDOMMMM, i hope you guys enjoy this because i know its not everyone's cup of tea! enjoy, enjoy, enjoy, and thank you so much for the request!

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

if someone were to tell you in the past that you would be dating two of your teammates, who also happen to be your best friends, you would laugh in their face. 

you didn’t think it would be possible, basically growing up with the two girls and then suddenly finding yourself in a relationship with both of them. 

it was exciting and just worked, it was a mutual understanding between the three of you. there was just something so simple about being with each other, in the beginning it was confusing but it slowly grew to be more comfortable. 

you all played together in the lionesses, as well as arsenal, so the progression of the relationship came naturally.

you originally were dating leah, when you were 23 and her 25. and as the two of you grew closer, so did another certain blonde unexpectedly. 

you and leah weren’t really sure how it happened, but alessia added herself into the equation, and now the three of you have been together for essentially 3 years and you all couldn’t be happier. 

you had your own lives, the relationship not a secret rather private, and that’s how you all liked it. 

—

“baby, i cant find my boots anywhere!” alessia whines from the living room, you could hear the pout laced in her words, alessia was always one to misplace something and come crying to you for help.

“clumsy lessi” leah chuckles from the ensuite bathroom, watching you trudge out the bedroom to help your girlfriend. 

“lessi baby” you laugh, watching her throw the living room apart for her shoes. “yeah?” her head pops up from behind the couch, you’re unable to stop yourself from smiling at her slightly dishevelled appearance, to which she amusingly rolled her eyes. 

“babe, they’re right there” you snicker, pointing to the two neon yellow cleats by the door. her head snaps in the direction of your finger, immediately groaning once she saw her boots in the place she swore she double checked. her head falls back as she lays flat on the floor, you laugh brightly at the curses falling from alessia’s lips. 

“what’s all the giggles in here for then?” leah’s voice fills the space of your giggles, the older girl coming behind you with her arms wrapped around your middle. your head swivels slightly to face your other girlfriend, the blonde quickly closing the gap and placing a kiss on your lips. 

“lessi’s funny” you mumble against leah’s lips, making her chuckle against yours. 

and of course, alessia’s whines pick up again at feeling slightly left out. leah chuckles when she spots alessia scrambling to stand up, she lets go of you for a moment, spinning you gently into the arms of an awaiting alessia. 

alessia without a second thought cradles your cheek, kissing you sweetly. “i get no fun around here, always sharing” leah mocks watching you too, making alessia outstretch her hand to leah, pulling her into an impromptu group hug. 

you were sandwiched in the middle of the two, the girls now sharing a kiss above you before both of them attack your cheeks with kisses, all three of you giggling cheekily. 

“alessia lost her boots and they’re right over there” you chuckle, leaning back into leah when alessia moves past the both of you to get changed, always finding herself running a little late. 

leah laughs with you as you explained the situation, alessia’s groans only making the moment funnier. “don’t be mean to her, she’ll sulk all day” leah whispers in your ear.

you turn to her with a mock look of offence, “she will not” you whisper loudly back, leah mocks your voice with a smile, running away from you as you chased her back into the bedroom. 

—

“(y/n) was so mean to me today, you know? i asked her for help in a life or death situation and she just laughed at me” alessia explained to a laughing vic and kyra, making you stop rolling out your quads in the gym with leah, “i told you” leah says under her breath but you heard it. 

“russo! it was not life or death, it was just your boots!” you exclaim, making alessia snap her head toward you, “who do you think you’re talking to? who is russo?” she scoffs, clutching her heart at hearing her last name fall from your mouth instead of your usual pet names. 

“i’m talking to you” you grumble, feeling leah place her hand on your bicep, giving it a gentle squeeze. “baby, that hurt!” alessia chuckles, playfully winking at your unamused expression. 

you turn to look at leah, looking at her for back up. 

“lovey, she’s mucking around, go kiss and make up” leah pleads with a smirk, clearly teasing you. you give her a slightly shocked expression, the older girl usually backing you up in situations like this. 

“lee-” you pout, leah places a quick kiss on your lips, squeezing your cheeks together to form a pout. “no, darling, go make up with less, i’m not dealing with the bickering all the way home” she says firmly, always the most level headed in your relationship. 

she gives you a hand up before giving you an encouraging squeeze to your hips, pushing you over to alessia sitting on a bench. you huff but sit on the blonde’s lap, her hand immediately placed on your thigh as you sat down. 

“hello, gorgeous” alessia swoons, kissing your cheek affectionately despite your blank stare. “say i wasn’t mean to you” you say simply as alessia tries to kiss your lips before you dodge it. 

“baby, i was joking” alessia smirks, bumping her nose on your cheek. “alessia” you whine, the blonde giggling as she placed more apologetic kisses to your cheek, making a little giggle escape your lips occasionally. 

“you weren’t being mean, baby, i’m sorry,” alessia says earnestly, making you smile down at her cheekily before giving her that kiss she wanted, later talking with her and the other girls back and forth before you made your way back to leah. the younger blonde giving your behind a playful slap. 

“thin ice!” you remind her, walking into leah’s outstretched arms. “good girl” leah croons, giving you a tight squeeze and sending alessia a wink. 

—

“what if she forgot something?” you say to leah anxiously, the blonde watching you pace in front of her with an amused smile on her face. 

“two weeks ago, you were fighting about boots” leah chuckles, you send her a glare and she stops, “she didn’t forget anything, love, you packed her bag” leah reminds you, 

“i know, but i’m worried about her” you say anxiously, thinking about your girlfriend who was currently travelling to australia for a friendly match against the A-league all stars team. both you and leah weren’t selected in the team this time. 

“my girl,” leah coos, “alessia will be okay, baby, i know you miss her” you pout and flop on the couch,  “you’ve got me though, sunshine” leah teases, smoothing the furrow between your eyebrows with the pad of her thumb.

“i know, lee, i love you” you send her a small smile "i love you more", you couldn’t help but miss alessia, the three of you were so used to each other’s company now. when one was away from the trio, it made the other’s a little sad, even if they didn't want to admit it.

leah could tell alessia’s absence was hitting a little harder than normal, she missed the other blonde too but didn’t want to dampen the mood. leah knew, the only thing that you were thinking about was that message from alessia that she had arrived at the hotel.

“how about we watch an episode of our show? i promise i won’t tell less” leah attempts, clearly working by the ways your eyes lit up at her words.

leah immediately grabbed snacks and made the couch more comfortable, cuddling up next to you and pressing play on the tv.

you kept anxiously checking the time, waiting for alessia’s message that she had landed safely. cuddling with leah on the couch, the two of you chatted. 

you felt bad about your mind being preoccupied about your girlfriend when your other one was basically melted on top of you but you knew leah understood your worries about the youngest out of the three.

it was until leah’s phone began to vibrate that you both sat up, seeing the name ‘lessi bear’ on leah’s home screen with a silly photo of the two of you under it.

leah chuckled at the sound of your gasp, shaking her head amusingly before passing you her phone, you answered immediately. "pause the tv" you hiss before pressing the green button.

“8 seconds, williamson, that’s appalling” alessia grumbled, hating when leah was slow with answering the phone, “oh, you're not williamson, hello, baby girl!” alessia says brightly, you smile back at her through the facetime call, ignoring the scoff that came from leah’s mouth.

“i can’t believe you called leah first and not me!” you tease, watching alessia laugh brightly, dressed in one of your hoodies, her hair lightly framing her face with the hood on top of her head. she looked so comfy and cozy, you were really missing her at this point.

“leah told me to call her first” alessia clarifies, smiling at you with pink cheeks, “traitor” leah mumbles, “what was that?” you smile at leah, clearly smitten at hearing the voice of alessia.

“nothing, darling” she smiles, kissing your temple affectionately before reaching out to hold the phone for the both of you to be in the frame.

“how was your flight?” you ask her, weirdly shy for some reason, something alessia caught onto quickly, she chuckles, rustling in the bed slightly adjusting herself to be more comfortable.

“it was good, love, except i dropped my phone during the beginning of it” leah laughs at alessia through the phone, you couldn't help but chuckle as well before your other girlfriend began whining about how you both didn’t love her.

after a room tour and chatter between the three of you, you couldn't help but grow a little drowsy, the time difference proving to be a little difficult for you.

“as soon as she hears your voice, she’s out” leah grins at a dozing you on her chest, alessia chuckles affectionately, “i miss you both” she breathes out, taking a few screenshots of the cute scene playing out in front of her.

“she's been worried about you, less, she keeps thinking you forgot something” leah says quietly, her hand rubbing up and down your back in an attempt to keep you asleep.

“don't tell her, i forgot my phone charger” alessia says sheepishly, leah bites back a laugh, body shaking a little but some miracle keeping you asleep. "the one thing she told you to pack yourself" leah teases, alessia rolling her eyes "shut up, babe"

“i knew it” she whispers, chatting back and forth with alessia, making sure to go captain mode and tell her some tactics. 

“say goodnight to her for me?” alessia pleads, leah nods instantly, kissing the crown of your head before whispering “lessi says goodnight, bubba”.

they exchange a loving goodbye and a kiss to the camera before getting some sleep. you and leah waking up extra early to watch the match.

—

leah sits at the kitchen island of your shared apartment absolutely glued to her computer, the older girl insisting she must be the one to book all your flights for the off-season, not wanting anything to go wrong at all.

alessia was on the way home from her australia trip, having already landed and getting a lift with steph, her house close to yours. you were currently making some dinner, alessia’s favourite that she had been begging you to make for her when she came back home.

leah was extremely focused on her task at hand, offering you simple, ‘mhm’, ‘yeah’ and ‘okay, baby’ when she could. 

you were bored waiting for alessia, only needing to do the finishing touches when the blonde walked through the front door. you wanted to cure your boredom with your other girlfriend but she simply was preoccupied and you couldn’t have that.

“i'm thinking of going to get a new outfit tomorrow” you attempt, “that’s nice” leah offers mutely, barely giving you anything. you frown at the lack of response from the england captain.

“i can’t wait to see alessia” you smile, “mhm, me too” she mumbles, you scoff at her response, you know she’s doing something important but you were just so bored, and alessia was due to come home at any minute. the rapid typing of leah’s keyboard was beginning to get on your nerves.

“you know, alessia is definately my favourite player” you say proudly, hearing the complete silence now filling the room. leah looks up at you with an icy glare, suddenly all her attention devoted to you.

“do you want to say that again?” leah grits out before being interrupted by alessia trudging through the door.

“lessi!” you say happily, rushing over to alessia and pulling her into a tight hug, alessia drops her bag to catch you just in time, chuckling affectionately as you clung onto her. “aw, my love” alessia grins as you peck her cheeks repeatedly.

she places you down with your arms interlocked, “don't look so happy to see me, lee baby” alessia laughs, both of you now looking at a frowning leah, her arms crossed firmly over her chest as she watched you two in your loved up bubble.

“what’s her problem?” alessia whispers to you, you just shake your head and smile up at her brightly, “doesn't matter” you assure, pulling her in for a quick kiss.

“i’ve got a bone to pick with you, russo!” leah complains.

⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆ ★ ⋆

you know the drill - pretend it’s you! ily tooney

liked by leahwilliamsonn and 44,232 others

alessia: my favourite girls in the world!

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yourname: one more than the other, though, right?

↳ alessia: cheeky baby

↳ leahwilliamsonn: you’re not denying anything?

↳ yourname: oooooo you’re in troubleeeeee

↳ alessia: sigh

↳ leahwilliamsonn: both of you are in time out.

[joelsrose]

Guns and Roses: Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: At dinner with Tommy and Maria, you navigate the awkward tension with Joel, who appears to be displaying subtle signs of change. As the days progress, you find yourself grappling with the complexities of his words and actions, trying to decipher the shifting dynamics of your relationship.

11k words.... no comment No TW, enjoy !!! Lemme know if you’d like to be added to the tag list, thank you so much for your support guysss Previous chapter

It had been a week since that patrol with Joel—a week since you’d carefully stitched up his hand, and those quiet words he’d spoken still lingered, refusing to leave your thoughts. In the days that followed, you’d buried yourself in work—tending the garden, taking on extra watch shifts, anything to keep your hands busy and your mind from wandering to him. You hadn’t seen him at all—not in town, not at the gates, not during the late hours when patrols overlapped. You hadn’t felt the weight of his gaze, that quiet intensity that always seemed to linger when he looked your way. And maybe that was for the best. Easier. Simpler. Less complicated by the tangle of feelings you weren’t ready to face.

You came home late from an extra patrol you’d picked up with Maria, the cold biting into your skin, each gust of wind slicing like shards of glass. Exhaustion clung to you, settling deep in your bones, dragging your steps as you trudged down the empty, snow-covered street. The soft glow of the streetlights flickered faintly, casting long shadows across the snow.

By the time you reached your front door, your fingers were numb, stiff from the cold. Just like clockwork, the knob resisted you—stubborn and unyielding, as it always did. You muttered a string of curses under your breath, the sound carried away by the biting wind as you jiggled the handle. For months, you’d meant to ask Tommy to fix it, but it always slipped your mind—until moments like this, when exhaustion weighed you down, the cold gnawed at your skin, and all you craved was the warmth waiting inside.

But the damn door had other plans.

Finally, after what felt like a battle of wills, the door gave way, and you stumbled inside. The warmth greeted you like a long-lost friend, wrapping around you, instantly melting away the chill that had seeped into your bones. You stood there for a moment, letting the quiet of the house settle over you, your breath escaping in a soft sigh. With a weary kick, you sent your boots tumbling off, shaking the stubborn remnants of snow from your clothes, relieved to finally be home.

Upstairs, you peeled off your clothes and stepped into the shower, the hot water hitting your skin like a balm. It melted away the grime and exhaustion, the day’s weight slowly washing down the drain. You closed your eyes, surrendering to the warmth, the steady hiss of the water drowning out the world. For a brief moment, there was nothing but the soothing heat on your skin, each droplet tracing lazy paths down your neck, over your shoulders, and along your back. You sighed deeply, releasing the day’s burdens with it.

After your shower, you wrapped yourself in a towel and padded quietly across the floor, the cold air biting at your damp skin. You crawled into bed, where the soft sheets welcomed you, their coolness quickly warming against your body. The faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, a gentle reminder of Maria’s sachets, mingling with the earthy scent of the cabin’s aged wood. The weight of the blankets settled over you, grounding you, cocooning you from the chill of the night that pressed against the window.

In this silence, an escape from the chaos outside, you could finally let the world fade away—its noise, its burdens, slipping into the background like a distant hum.

As you lay there, the quiet of the room enveloped you, and your mind began to wander. You thought about life—how everything had shifted, how different it all was now. The past felt so distant, almost like a dream. There was a time, before Jackson, before the world fractured, when the most trivial issues consumed your thoughts—what to eat for dinner, whether to meet up with friends after school, the simple, everyday choices that seemed so important then. Now, those concerns felt like relics of another life, buried beneath the weight of all that had changed. You had learned to live with the loss, to accept that some wounds never fully heal, yet the emptiness still lingered beneath the surface, like a quiet ache that never really faded.

Jackson had given you stability, a sense of home you hadn’t felt in years. It was strange, really, how something so small and unremarkable could offer so much comfort. Tommy and Maria—kind, steady, always there—had become your anchors, giving you a place to belong when you thought that feeling was lost forever. You’d stumbled upon Jackson by chance, after weeks of traveling alone, exhausted and battered by the world outside. You hadn’t expected to stay, let alone find safety, but something about the place, the people, made it feel like a refuge from the constant chaos.

Maria, with her quiet strength, had been the first to welcome you. Her friendship slowly chipped away at the loneliness you carried like a second skin. Tommy, with his warmth and easy smiles, always ready with a joke or quick laugh, made the weight of life feel just a little bit lighter.

Yet, even with Jackson’s security and the friendship of people like Tommy and Maria, you tried to avoid the thoughts that crept in during the quiet moments—the yearning for someone to truly share your life with. But love in this world felt selfish, a luxury you could no longer afford.

All that mattered now was survival.

You buried that ache deep, convincing yourself it was easier this way, after the scars of your last relationship had left you afraid of opening up again. The pain of the past had taught you to keep your walls up, and though you longed for connection, the fear of being hurt again kept you at a distance. Even now, the loneliness remained, hiding in the shadows, always waiting.

Without realizing it—or maybe without wanting to admit it—your thoughts drifted to Joel, just as they did every night, like clockwork.

You couldn’t help but wish things were different between you two. That you could turn back time, undo the awkward silences, soften the sharpness of his words, and erase the coldness in his eyes. The distance between you and Joel felt like an unbearable weight. It wasn’t just his words that stung—it was the way he looked at you, like you were someone to tolerate, an inconvenience in his tightly guarded world. You often wondered what it would take to break through that wall, to have him look at you the way he did Tommy or Ellie—with that rare warmth, the quiet loyalty he reserved for only a few.

But maybe it wasn’t just Joel. Maybe it was you, too. Maybe there was something fundamentally wrong with you, something about the way you occupied space that made you feel like an outsider, always on the fringes, looking in. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the thought gnawed at you relentlessly. Was it something you’d said? Something you’d done? Or was it simply who you were—always too much or never quite enough?

The echoes of your past relationship still lingered, making you second-guess every word, every gesture. You had been made to feel like you were too needy, too clingy, and that doubt had rooted itself deep inside you. Now, every interaction felt like a delicate balance, as if any misstep might confirm the fear that you were just…too much.

You sighed, pulling the blankets tighter around yourself, as if they could somehow shield you from the weight of those thoughts. But the image of Joel’s hardened gaze clung to you, like a bruise you couldn’t touch without feeling the dull ache beneath. The friction between you had thickened into a wall so impenetrable, you didn’t know how—or even if—you could break through it. With that heaviness pressing on your chest, you let your eyes drift shut, sleep slowly creeping in, even as your mind swirled with memories: his sharp words, the cold bite of snow, and the wide, unbridgeable distance between you.

But then there were those rare moments, like when you had tended to his hand. His fingers, rough and calloused from years of survival, had briefly rested in your own, forming a fleeting connection. For just a second, you thought you saw something softer in his eyes, something that disappeared as quickly as it came. It left you questioning whether it had been there at all, or if it was just your tired mind imagining what you wished to see. That glimpse of warmth was always so brief, it felt almost like a dream, gone before you could even grasp it.

Your eyes grew heavy, the exhaustion finally settling in, and before you realized it, you had drifted off, once again with thoughts of Joel lingering in your mind.

It was becoming a pattern—no matter how hard you tried to push him away, he always found his way into your last waking thoughts, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

•••

The next morning, you woke with a quiet sense of resolve. The world outside felt different, lighter somehow, as if the weight of the previous days had begun to lift. The snow, once harsh and unrelenting, had softened in the night, its flurries now gentle, drifting lazily through the air. There was something in the crispness of the morning—a quiet, unspoken promise of change. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there, lingering in the air. It whispered of new beginnings, though what those might be, you weren’t sure just yet.

You stepped out onto the front porch, the wooden boards creaking softly beneath your weight. The morning was still, but the world around you was beginning to stir. People walked by in small clusters, bundled up against the cold, their breath visible in the crisp air as they moved through the motions of daily life—talking, laughing, going about their routines with a sense of quiet purpose. Children’s voices carried faintly from a distance, their laughter bright against the otherwise muted morning. There was a peacefulness to it all, an ordinary rhythm that felt comforting in its familiarity.

The garden in front of you lay dormant, a barren stretch of earth dusted with a thin layer of frost, its potential hidden beneath winter’s icy grip. For now, it seemed lifeless—a quiet, desolate patch of ground that mirrored the stillness around you.

But you had plans for it.

You had told Maria and Tommy all about your dream for the garden, how this coming spring, you would finally put it to life. As you stood there, cradling your coffee in both hands, warmth seeping into your fingers, you imagined what it would become. In your mind’s eye, the empty space transformed—bursting with color, vibrant and wild, flowers of all kinds stretching along the fence, breathing life back into the soil. And most of all, there would be roses.

You had always loved roses—their fierce, unapologetic beauty, delicate yet resilient, with thorns that spoke of their strength. You could already picture them—soft pinks, fiery reds, deep purples—spreading across the garden, filling the air with their sweet scent. The thought brought a small smile to your lips, a quiet hope stirring within, as if nurturing the garden might somehow heal something within you too, fill some sort of void you had become too aware of.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the creak of Tommy’s front door swinging open across the street, pulling you from your reverie. He lived right in front of you, and the sound was as familiar as the rhythm of the town.

Instinctively, you glanced up, your eyes landing on Joel as he stepped out alongside Tommy. They were deep in conversation, their breath forming clouds in the cold morning air. You couldn’t make out the words from this distance, but then something caught your attention—Joel’s laugh. It was rare, almost unexpected, the sound soft but carrying across the quiet street. It lingered briefly in the air before fading, like something you almost didn’t catch but somehow couldn’t ignore.

Your eyes lingered on Joel longer than you intended. He looked much the same—his shoulders squared, his expression as unreadable as ever. But something was different in the way he stood next to Tommy. There was a subtle ease to him, a rare sense of relaxation in the way he moved, the tension that usually clung to him seemed to soften, if only slightly. The bandage still wrapped around his hand was a quiet reminder of the last time you’d been alone together, stirring a mix of emotions inside you—uncertainty, regret, and something you couldn’t quite name.

And then he caught your eye.

For a heartbeat, everything seemed to freeze. His gaze locked onto yours, and for a split second, you saw his eyes flicker over you, a subtle once-over that made your breath hitch. His expression remained unreadable, but the way his eyes lingered left you feeling exposed. Embarrassment surged through you as you realized you were still in your pajamas, the thin fabric showing more skin than you would’ve liked. Flustered, you quickly looked away, turning your attention back to your coffee, hoping its warmth might somehow hide the flush creeping up your neck.

It was too much to stay outside any longer, the cold biting at your skin and the weight of Joel’s gaze unsettling you. You were already on your way back inside when Tommy noticed you, his eyes catching the awkward exchange.

As you scurried toward your door, fumbling with the stubborn knob once again, Tommy couldn’t resist. “Everything alright over there?” he called, a teasing lilt in his voice. You felt the heat rise to your face, hastily ducking inside before you had to answer, hoping the door would shut fast enough to hide your embarrassment.

From across the street, Tommy’s laughter rang out, likely at the clumsy spectacle you’d made of yourself. What you didn’t see, as you hurried inside, was the faint hint of a smile pulling at Joel’s lips—a rare flicker of amusement that softened his hardened expression. He watched you disappear, his gaze lingering on the door long after it had shut, as if your rushed retreat had left something behind, something only he could recognize.

•••

The knock on the door interrupted you as you sat reading, pulling you from the pages just as you were starting to lose yourself in them. With a sigh, you set the book aside and opened the door to find Tommy standing there, his usual grin plastered across his face, leaning casually against the frame.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted warmly, his eyes darting to the door handle before letting out a laugh. “Still fighting with this old thing, huh? I thought this morning might’ve been its final battle.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. You loved this about Tommy—the way he could make you laugh, no matter what. He had this duality about him, able to take command on patrols, protect the town, and then switch to being a total clown at the drop of a hat. It was a rare skill, and you appreciated it more than you let on.

You thought back to that one time, when you’d come back from a patrol, shaken up after a close call. The adrenaline had barely worn off, and you couldn’t get your mind to settle. Not long after you made it home, Tommy had shown up with a deck of cards, a grin on his face, and simply said, “Heard you need to learn how to lose at poker.” The next couple of hours were spent with him playfully mocking your terrible hand and telling stories that had you laughing until your stomach hurt. He never once asked about what had happened on patrol, and somehow, that made it better. He had this way of knowing exactly what you needed, even when you didn’t.

“Anyway,” Tommy continued, snapping you back to the present as he straightened up, “You’re coming over tonight. Maria’s cooking up a storm, and we’re not taking no for an answer.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s the occasion?”

Tommy shrugged, grinning as usual. “Do I need an occasion to hang out with my favorite people?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, not entirely convinced. “Who else is coming?”

“Just the usual suspects,” Tommy replied, throwing in a playful wink. “You, Joel, and Ellie. Figured we could all use a night to unwind. Besides, we’ll finally get to hear some of those patrol stories now that you two aren’t at each other’s throats anymore.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “Right. Because we’re such great storytellers.”

Tommy laughed. “Hey, if nothing else, it’ll be entertaining to watch you try.”

You forced out a chuckle, though it felt hollow, the irony of his words twisting in your gut. The lies you’d fed Tommy were beginning to catch up with you, knotting something tight and uncomfortable in your chest. Just like last week, when he’d casually asked how patrol with Joel had gone, and you’d plastered on a smile, insisting everything was fine—because that was easier than admitting the truth. But now, the thought of spending an entire evening with Joel, pretending like nothing had changed, made your stomach twist. You hadn’t corrected Tommy then, and now you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep up the charade.

Tommy must have caught the flicker of hesitation in your expression because he waved a hand dismissively before you could even form a protest. “No excuses, alright? Six-thirty sharp. Be there. Gotta run!”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing there with a knot tightening in your stomach. The prospect of dinner with Joel hung heavy in the air, a weight you couldn’t quite shake as the reality of spending the evening with him settled uncomfortably on your mind.

•••

That night, a low hum of anxiety thrummed in your chest, your mind racing through every possible scenario of how dinner might unfold. Would Joel sit in stony silence, barely acknowledging your presence? Would his gaze linger too long, sharp with frustration, making you wonder if you’d said or done something wrong again? Or maybe he’d be short with you, his words clipped and cold, each sentence feeling like a subtle reprimand. You imagined accidentally dropping a fork, the clatter echoing louder than it should, and him shooting you that look—the one that made you feel small, like you didn’t belong. The air always felt thick with him there, heavy with unspoken tension. You couldn’t stop replaying his words in your mind, the way his eyes had cut through you, the frustration lacing his voice. You knew he thought you were a burden, and now every little thing felt magnified—every move, every word, overthought and picked apart, terrified that one misstep would only confirm what he already seemed to believe.

For the past week, you’d been silently relieved that you hadn’t crossed paths with him, grateful for the distance. But deep down, you knew that seeing him again was inevitable, not just tonight at dinner, but eventually.

You stood in front of your closet, fingers trailing over the hangers as you searched for something that felt right. After a moment of hesitation, you pulled out a soft, knitted sweater—the pale pink one Maria had once said brought out the warmth in your skin. It was thick enough to fend off the evening chill, hugging you in a way that felt both comforting and flattering. The sleeves draped past your wrists, brushing your fingertips like a quiet, reassuring touch you hadn’t realized you craved. You paired it with a well-worn pair of jeans, something familiar and easy.

As you got ready, the sweet scent of apple-cinnamon pie drifted up from the kitchen, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was a soothing contrast to the nerves building in your chest. Standing in front of the mirror, you left your hair down, letting it fall naturally in loose waves, framing your face. There was a simplicity to it all that made you feel put together—nothing overdone, but just enough to feel like yourself.

Pie in hand, you braved the cold night air, the chill biting at your cheeks until they flushed pink. Your boots crunched softly through the snow as you made your way across the street to Tommy and Maria’s. The faint glow from their windows spilled out into the darkness, a warm, inviting light that seemed to pull you in, offering a welcome contrast to the cold night pressing against you.

You paused at the door for a moment, taking a deep breath before stepping inside.

“There she is!” Tommy’s voice rang out, cheerful as ever, breaking the crisp silence that followed you in from the cold. The comforting aroma of roasted chicken and warm spices greeted you immediately, wrapping around you like a blanket, a stark contrast to the biting air outside.

Maria looked up from the table she was setting, her smile as warm as the scents filling the room. “Hey, glad you could make it,” she said, her voice easy and inviting, making you feel at home in an instant.

Ellie popped up from her seat with an exaggerated grin, waving you over. “About time! Thought you’d frozen out there or something.” Her teasing tone, paired with the glint of amusement in her eyes, pulled a soft smile from you, easing some of the tension lodged in your chest.

But then, your gaze drifted almost instinctively to the table, where Joel sat. Your steps faltered for a brief moment when you saw him. He looked different tonight—refined, even. His usually disheveled hair was slicked back, neater than you’d ever seen it, and he had traded his familiar, worn-out jacket for a crisp button-up shirt. The fabric stretched taut across his broad shoulders, making him seem even more imposing. It threw you off balance, and for a heartbeat, you didn’t quite know what to do with yourself.

His eyes flicked up, catching yours for just a second. The look he gave you was unreadable, as if he was holding back something he wouldn’t—or couldn’t—say. He nodded, barely perceptible, a silent acknowledgment of your arrival. The tension from the past week hung heavy in the air, thick and unspoken, settling between you like an invisible wall. But tonight, there was something different about him. A softness, a deliberate effort, though you couldn’t quite pin down why.

You hesitated, your familiar unease creeping back in, knotting in your stomach. It was like Joel could sense it. His gaze lingered, just long enough to make you question everything, the silence between you filled with things you both refused to say.

“You brought pie?” Maria’s smile widened as she took the dish from you, her eyes bright with appreciation. “You didn’t have to, but thank you. It smells divine.”

You managed a small laugh, though Joel’s presence still weighed on your thoughts. “Figured it’d make up for my lousy company,” you teased lightly, trying to shift your focus.

Maria chuckled, giving your arm a light pat as she placed the pie on the counter. “Oh, stop it. We’re just glad you’re here.”

You gave Maria a small smile, though your nerves still fluttered beneath the surface. As you glanced back at the table, you realized everyone had already taken their seats—except for you. The only empty spot left was next to Joel. Your stomach twisted at the sight, and you couldn’t tell if it was deliberate or just an unfortunate coincidence.

Joel’s eyes were back on his plate, as if the brief exchange between you hadn’t even happened. But the tension between you hummed in the air, undeniable, even if no one else seemed to notice. As you reluctantly moved toward the empty seat beside him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his presence, the quiet weight of it pressing against your thoughts. Sitting down, you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too, or if you were just stuck in your own head, overthinking every glance, every silence.

•••

Dinner was awkward, the kind of awkward that lingered like a thick fog, clinging to every corner of the room despite the efforts to keep the conversation light and flowing. The tension seemed to wrap itself around the table, settling between you and Joel like an invisible barrier, palpable even in the spaces where no one spoke.

Tommy, ever perceptive, had picked up on it quickly. His brow furrowed in confusion as he glanced your way, his expression silently asking, I thought you and Joel were fine now? The lie you had told him after that patrol—the one where you said everything was “just fine”—seemed to hover in the air, taunting you, its weight pressing down on the space between you and Joel.

And yet, no matter how hard you tried to focus on the clatter of forks or Maria’s cheerful voice, you couldn’t escape the feeling that everyone could sense it. The tension hummed beneath the surface, thick and suffocating, binding you to Joel in a way that neither of you seemed ready to face.

“Tell us about your hand, Joel,” Tommy said, his voice deliberately light, as if trying to sweep away the thick tension clinging to the room. There was a playful note to his tone, an attempt to soften the atmosphere. “Bet there’s a funny story there.”

Your eyes drifted to Joel’s bandaged hand, watching as he flexed it slightly before lifting his fork to his mouth. The memory of you stitching him up flickered in your mind, and the tension between you felt as raw as it had that day.

Joel barely glanced up, his jaw tight, his focus still pinned on the plate in front of him. “It’s nothing, Tommy,” he muttered, the gruffness in his voice like a wall shutting down any further inquiry. His words were flat, dismissive, a quick brush-off. “Just a scratch.”

Tommy, still blissfully unaware of the deeper currents beneath the surface, pressed on with a grin. “But it happened during patrol, didn’t it?” He threw a playful glance your way, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “And I heard Sunshine here patched you up. Woman of many talents, huh?”

You forced a small smile at the nickname Tommy had given you, trying to match his lightheartedness, but the unease settled deeper in your chest. Tommy always meant well, but he didn’t see the cracks beneath the surface. His playful tone smoothed over something jagged, but it wasn’t enough to shake the heaviness between you and Joel.

Maria, though—she wasn’t fooled. She always had a way of sensing the undercurrents, and tonight was no exception. Her eyes caught yours across the table, a flicker of understanding passing between you. It was the kind of look that said she knew more than anyone else in the room and wouldn’t push, but she was there if you needed her.

You busied yourself with passing plates, focusing on the small, routine tasks as a distraction from the tension that had settled deep in your chest. Ellie, bless her, filled the silence with her usual bright energy, recounting some story about an old man who’d mistaken her for a boy during patrol.

“… and I swear, he didn’t believe me until I had to practically spell it out for him!” Ellie’s voice rang through the room, her laughter contagious. Tommy chuckled, shaking his head, and Maria smiled softly as she listened.

But even Ellie’s infectious spirit couldn’t cut through the knot that had formed inside you. Every word, every glance felt like it was being scrutinized, held under the weight of Joel’s silent watch. You hated it—the way his presence lingered, how the memory of his harsh words still held you captive, turning you into a shell of who you were around the others. It grated at you, that all it took was a few biting words from him to undo everything, to make you doubt yourself.

You kept your focus on the plates, nodding occasionally at Ellie’s story, but your mind was elsewhere. You could feel Joel across the table, the tension between you like a live wire, sparking every time his eyes drifted your way, even if just for a second. It was like the room had split in two—one half filled with light conversation and Ellie’s laughter, and the other weighed down by the unspoken strain between you and Joel.

As Ellie continued her stories, you reached for your glass, only to realize it was nearly empty, and without thinking, your hand hesitated. Before you could pull away, Joel’s hand quietly reached across the table, refilling your glass without a word. The gesture was simple, almost unremarkable, but it stopped you cold. His rough fingers brushed the rim of the glass, and the unexpected softness in the midst of all the tension sent a jolt through you.

For a moment, you froze, your mind racing. Why did he do that? It wasn’t the kind of thing you’d expect from him—especially after the way he’d acted toward you lately. You thought he couldn’t stand you, that he saw you as nothing more than a burden. The words he’d once said echoed in your mind, tightening your chest. You had backed off, kept your distance, because he made it painfully clear he wanted nothing to do with you.

And yet… this. This small, quiet gesture. Was it just habit? Politeness? Or did he feel bad for how he’d treated you? The questions swirled in your head, and you couldn’t quite shake the confusion.

“Thanks,” you mumbled softly, your voice barely audible. Joel gave the faintest nod, never meeting your eyes as he returned to his meal, as if nothing had happened. But you couldn’t let it go. That brief touch, that moment of quiet consideration—it lingered, making you question everything. Did he regret the way he’d treated you? Or was it just you, overthinking as usual, grasping for meaning where there was none?

•••

Dinner came and went, the awkwardness that had settled over the room earlier slowly ebbing away. After that small interaction with Joel, you found yourself subconsciously loosening up. The knot of tension in your chest slowly unraveled, and you began to relax, slipping into your usual self without even realizing it. You laughed at Ellie’s stories, joined in on Tommy’s playful banter, and let yourself ease into the flow of the evening, the weight of Joel’s presence not as heavy as before.

Joel, as usual, stayed mostly silent, his focus on his plate. He only chimed in when Ellie made some snarky comment about their latest patrol, and even then, his words were short, gruff responses. But his silence didn’t feel as suffocating now—it was just… Joel being Joel. You couldn’t help but glance at him occasionally, wondering if that small act earlier had meant anything to him. But he remained distant, his expression unreadable, and you tried not to let your thoughts linger too long.

Still, the evening felt lighter, easier. For the first time in a long while, you found yourself almost enjoying the company, allowing yourself to be present in the moment. The tension that had once felt unbearable had faded into the background, at least for now.

When it came time for dessert, you brought out the pie, your hands a little unsteady as you tried to focus on the simple act of serving it. The warm, sweet aroma of apples and cinnamon filled the room, carrying with it a sense of nostalgia that momentarily eased the tension in your chest. You could feel everyone’s eyes on you as you approached the table, their conversations quieting in anticipation. But as you carried the pie to the table, still hot from the oven, you misjudged the thickness of the towel in your hands. The heat seared through the fabric, and a sharp, instinctive “Shit!” escaped your lips as pain shot through your fingers.

Before you could even react, Joel was there, reaching out without hesitation. His hand wrapped around the dish, and for a second, you were sure he’d burn himself too. But he barely flinched as he steadied it, his fingers brushing yours just as he took the pie from your grip. His touch, rough but steady, sent a jolt through you that had nothing to do with the heat.

“Careful,” Joel muttered under his breath, his voice low and rough, as he set the pie down on the table with a practiced ease, barely acknowledging the burn that would have scalded most.

You stood frozen, staring at him, wondering if he felt the sting—or anything at all. His hand lingered on the dish a moment longer than necessary, and you caught the subtle tension in his jaw, the slight clenching that made you think maybe he did feel the heat but wasn’t about to admit it.

The pain in your own fingers faded, overtaken by the weight of his presence. The unexpected gentleness of his touch still buzzed through you, unsettling in its intimacy. Something about the moment—something beyond the heat—left you feeling off balance.

You looked up at him, startled by the ease with which he’d helped, by the gentle steadiness of his hand on yours. His face remained as unreadable as ever, but for the briefest moment, you felt something shift. It was subtle, barely there, but it was enough to make your heart race, to make you question everything you thought you knew about him.

You just gulped, the words thank you struggling to leave your mouth. To the others, it was nothing more than a simple slip of the hands—an almost-accident, easily shrugged off—but between you and Joel, it was something else. What exactly, you weren’t sure, but you didn’t like the way it left you feeling. That brief touch, the way he’d steadied the pie without a second thought, unsettled you. It was too intimate, too confusing, and you hated how it lingered in your mind.

As you resumed passing out plates, Ellie’s exaggerated enthusiasm over the dessert barely registered. Your mind kept drifting back to Joel, who sat quietly, his eyes fixed on his empty plate. When Tommy offered him a slice, he waved it off, muttering something about being too full.

•••

After dinner, you and Ellie gathered in the living room. Maria was in the kitchen, despite your repeated offers to help, and Tommy and Joel had disappeared into another part of the house, likely fixing something.

Ellie leaned back on the couch, stretching out like she hadn’t a care in the world. Meanwhile, your shoulders tensed under her gaze—you knew she was about to pry.

“Sooo,” she began, drawing out the word in a way that told you this was her attempt at subtlety. “What’s up with you and Joel?”

You felt your heart skip. Of course, she had noticed. Ellie noticed everything. You tried to brush it off, running a hand through your hair to buy yourself some time. “What do you mean?”

Ellie raised an eyebrow, unimpressed with your attempt to deflect. “Oh, come on. You two can barely be in the same room without it getting… awkward. So, what’s the deal? What happened?”

The word awkward echoed in your mind, and somehow, it still felt too simplistic to capture whatever this was between you and Joel. It wasn’t just awkwardness—it was tension, unspoken and unresolved. You shifted in your seat, unsure of how to put it into words. “I don’t know,” you said softly, your voice hesitant. “He said some things, I said some things… it’s complicated.”

Even as you said it, the weight of that truth lingered in the air between you. Complicated didn’t begin to cover it.

Ellie gave you a knowing nod, as if she understood more than she was letting on. “Complicated,” she echoed, her tone almost amused. “Yeah, I get that. But you know… you and Joel? You’re more alike than you think.”

You blinked at her, caught off guard by the comparison. “Alike?” you repeated, the word feeling foreign when applied to you and Joel. “Should I be offended?” you added with a playful smirk, trying to lighten the moment.

Ellie rolled her eyes but smiled. “Sure, when I first met him, he was a total asshole. And I mean asshole with a capital ‘A.’”

“Sounds about right,” you said, your tone light, but inside, something stirred.

Ellie grinned, but her expression softened as she continued, her voice lowering. “But that’s just… how he is. He builds walls, you know? Keeps people out.” She played with her fingers, her usual confidence faltering for a moment. “He’s been through a lot. Lost people. I know we all have, but… I think he just deals with it differently.”

Her words settled over you, heavy and unshakable. You hadn’t known much about Joel’s past—just bits and pieces from Tommy’s passing remarks or whispers around town. But now, as Ellie spoke, there was a deeper layer to it, something that made your chest tighten with a strange, unfamiliar ache.

“Lost people?” you asked softly, a strange feeling coiling deep in your stomach.

Ellie’s expression shifted, a flicker of sadness clouding her eyes. She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the floor as if weighing whether to continue. After a brief pause, she let out a soft sigh, the sound heavy with memories. “Yeah…” She glanced at you again, her voice quieter now. “Before we got here… there was someone else with us.” Another pause, as if the name still carried weight. “Her name was Tess.”

The name hit you harder than you expected, solid and heavy. You’d never heard about Tess, but from the way Ellie said her name, you knew Tess wasn’t just anyone. She had been important—more than important.

You swallowed, your voice hesitant as the question slipped out. “Were they… close?”

Ellie paused, glancing away, her brows furrowing like she was picking through memories, unsure of how much to say. “Yeah, they were close. I think so. It was… complicated, but you could tell she meant a lot to him.” She sighed again, her gaze distant, caught up in a world of memories that didn’t belong to you. “When we lost her, it messed him up. I mean, more than usual.”

The mention of Tess left a bitter taste in your mouth, tightening the knot in your chest. You wondered why it even mattered—why the thought of her knowing him, of softening his rough edges, bothered you at all. It unsettled you, and the fact that you were questioning it only made things worse. You didn’t care, or at least, you shouldn’t. So why the hell were you thinking about it?

Ellie’s voice grew quieter, more introspective. “It’s like… Joel builds these walls around himself. High ones. To keep people out, to keep from getting hurt again. He couldn’t stand me a few months ago, and now it’s like… he worries if I’m gone for too long or if I’m not where he can see me.” She smiled, the kind of smile that was both wistful and knowing. “You just have to keep trying to see it… what’s underneath.”

Her words lingered in the air, tugging at something deep inside you. You weren’t sure if you were ready to try—or if you even wanted to. The thought of breaking through those walls, of seeing what lay beneath, left you more conflicted than ever. Why would you want to with someone who had made it painfully clear he couldn’t stand you? But after the small gestures tonight, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was still true.

The weight of Ellie’s words settled in your chest like a stone. The image of Joel she painted wasn’t just the gruff, distant man you knew; it was someone who had been hurt, someone who had lost so much that he didn’t know how to let anyone in anymore. Maybe that’s why he was the way he was with you—maybe it wasn’t even about you at all. Maybe it was about Tess. About whatever scars she’d left behind.

You sat there in silence for a moment, your thoughts churning with everything Ellie had said. The awkwardness between you and Joel felt different now, less like anger and more like a shadow of something neither of you had the words to explain.

Ellie looked at you, her expression softening even more. “Look, I don’t know what happened between you two, but… Joel can say and do things he doesn’t mean. And, well, I actually like you, so if you two could figure it out, that’d be awesome.”

You couldn’t help but smile at her words, a faint warmth spreading through your chest. “Yeah,” you murmured, the smile lingering a moment longer. I wish we could too, you thought, casting a quick glance toward Joel. He had just come back inside with Tommy and was now standing by the door, talking quietly. You watched him for a moment, noticing how his gaze flickered your way now and then. If only it were that simple.

The evening came to an end, and after saying your goodbyes, you slipped into your house, your mind swirling with thoughts. Ellie’s words replayed over and over, He’s lost people... Her voice echoed in your head, pulling you into a whirlwind of questions that spun relentlessly. Joel never shared much about his past—especially not with you—but Ellie had unknowingly cracked open a door, offering you a fleeting glimpse into the shadows he carried.

Now, for the first time, you found yourself wondering what it might be like to know him beyond the gruff exterior, beyond the walls he’d built so high and guarded so fiercely. The idea unsettled you, the weight of it lingering longer than you expected, tugging at a curiosity you weren’t sure you wanted to explore.

•••

A week later, you found yourself returning from another long night shift with Maria. Patrol had dragged on, leaving you bone-tired, your limbs heavy with exhaustion as you finally made your way home in the late afternoon. The snow had mostly melted, clinging only in stubborn patches, and the biting cold had eased. The air had shifted, carrying with it the faint warmth of the approaching spring. The sharp edge of winter had softened, replaced by a mild breeze that whispered of change. Yet, despite the gentler weather, the fatigue weighed you down, every step toward home feeling heavier than the last.

As you trudged up the steps to your front porch, exhaustion draped over you like a heavy blanket, your mind was already set on the hot shower waiting inside. But something felt… off. The door opened too easily.

You paused, confusion furrowing your brow. Turning back, you pushed it again—this time slower, more deliberate. It moved smoothly on its hinges, without the familiar stubborn resistance you’d grown so used to. Gone was the creak and the nightly battle just to get inside.

Curious, you pushed it open and closed a few more times, realization dawning on you. It had been fixed.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Tommy,” you muttered softly to yourself, shaking your head with a mix of amusement and gratitude. He must’ve finally taken pity on you after seeing you struggle with it the other day on the porch.

A warm shower and a much-needed nap later, you found yourself heading to the famous Jackson pub—something you and Tommy did regularly, with Maria occasionally tagging along. That evening, as the sky deepened into a cool twilight, you made your way through the brisk air toward the bar.

The moment you stepped inside, the warmth of the room enveloped you, the familiar hum of conversation and bursts of laughter offering a welcome reprieve from the cold outside. Memories of this place rushed back to you, woven into the fabric of your time in Jackson. This was where you’d celebrated your last birthday—Tommy insisting on toasting you, and the whole pub joining in with a boisterous, off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.” You remembered how embarrassed you’d felt but couldn’t help the warmth that settled in your chest when Maria brought out a cake she’d somehow managed to make despite all the supply shortages.

And then there was the night after one of your toughest patrols, when Maria had dragged you in here for “just one drink” to unwind. You’d ended up staying for hours, swapping stories with Tommy and Maria while the pub filled with laughter and the comforting sound of clinking glasses, the stress of the day melting away.

You spotted Tommy and Maria easily, sitting at a small table by the window. Tommy was already nursing a glass of whiskey, his grin widening when he saw you. Maria leaned in beside him, chatting quietly, her soft laughter mixing with the sounds of the bar. The glow from the dim lights above bathed the room in a cozy warmth, making it feel both alive and familiar—a place full of memories and moments that felt like home.

“Hey,” you greeted, sliding into the seat next to Tommy with a grin. “How’s it going? Long day?”

Tommy glanced up from his drink, giving you a welcoming nod. “Always is. Had to sort out some supply issues earlier, but we got it under control. Maria’s been on my case about takin’ a break, so… here I am.” He gestured around the pub with a wry smile.

Maria chuckled from across the table. “If by ‘taking a break,’ you mean half-listening to me while checking in with half the town, sure.”

“Hey now,” Tommy shot back, holding his hands up defensively. “I’m right here, aren’t I?”

You laughed and shook your head. “Well, at least you’re both here, so that’s something. Speaking of which, thanks for fixing my door, by the way. I didn’t even hear you come by. You’re officially off the hook for at least one favor.”

Tommy looked at you, confused, his glass halfway to his mouth. He lowered it and furrowed his brow. “Fix your door? What the hell are you talkin’ about?”

You blinked, surprised. “The front door—remember? It used to stick all the time. You said you’d get to it eventually.”

“Yeah, I remember. But I didn’t fix it,” Tommy said, chuckling as he leaned back in his chair. “Trust me, if I’d finally gotten around to fixing that door, I’d make sure you knew. I’d probably make a whole show of it, to be honest. That thing’s been givin’ you hell for months.”

Now you were the one confused. “Wait, seriously? You didn’t fix it?”

“Nope,” he said with a grin, shrugging. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a mystery handyman.”

A wave of confusion swept over you. If it wasn’t Tommy, then… who? You shook your head, a small laugh bubbling up despite the strange, nagging feeling in the back of your mind.

Maria, who had been listening quietly, raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Maybe you’ve got yourself a secret admirer,” she joked, though a flicker of genuine curiosity sparked in her eyes.

“Yeah, or a fucking stalker,” Tommy chimed in with a grin.

“Tommy!” Maria scolded, swatting him lightly on the arm.

He laughed, unbothered. “Or maybe you were just drunk and forgot you fixed it yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head with a smirk. “Very funny,” you said, though the joking didn’t entirely settle the strange feeling gnawing at you. Even as the conversation drifted to other topics, the thought lingered, tugging at the edges of your mind. Who had fixed the door? And why wouldn’t they say anything?

As you made your way home later that night, the streets quiet under the soft cover of darkness, your thoughts kept circling back to the door—how easily it had opened, how it had been fixed without a word, without explanation. A gentle breeze stirred the air, the last remnants of winter whispering through the night, but it wasn’t enough to chill you. You felt light on your feet, a little tipsy from the drinks and the easy company of the evening, but even that couldn’t shake the strange feeling gnawing at you.

When you finally reached your porch, you hesitated, turning the knob once more. The door opened with a soft click, smooth and effortless, as if it had never been broken at all. You stood there for a moment, the faint breeze brushing against your skin, staring at the door as if it might somehow reveal its secrets.

A quiet mystery settled over you, but for now, it remained unsolved. With a sigh, you stepped inside, the warmth of your home embracing you as you closed the door behind you. Maybe you’d never know who had fixed it. Or maybe… you already did.

You just weren’t ready to admit it yet.

•••

The next morning, as you groggily made your way toward the front door, still half-lost in the remnants of sleep, something unusual caught your eye and halted your steps. You blinked, trying to shake off the haze of early morning sluggishness. You had woken up with a mental list of things to tackle—maybe a trip to the market for supplies, finally tackling that patch of overgrown weeds in the garden, or even sorting through the clutter slowly piling up in the house. But all those plans slipped from your mind as you stood there, staring in disbelief.

The snow that had once piled up in your front yard—left untouched and heavy for weeks—was now neatly pushed aside, creating a clear path through the garden. It wasn’t just a quick shovel job either; it was precise, deliberate. You frowned, stepping closer to the window to get a better look.

“What the hell?” you muttered under your breath. You hadn’t even thought about shoveling the snow—not with everything else weighing you down lately.

You pressed your hand against the cold windowpane, peering outside. There were no footprints, no signs of who had been there. The remnants of snow were perfectly undisturbed except for the careful path that had been made. It was as if someone had come and gone without a trace, but with deliberate care.

First the door, now this.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the garden, and that’s when you noticed something else. The pile of firewood stacked by the side of your house—it had grown. You hadn’t even realized it had been running low, but now fresh logs were neatly stacked, perfectly arranged. It wasn’t just a casual pile; it was deliberate, almost too neat to be random. The firewood you had struggled to keep up with all winter had somehow been replenished overnight, quietly and without a word.

You stood at the top of your porch steps, hesitating, your gaze sweeping the street. You half-expected to catch a glimpse of someone lingering nearby, the person responsible for these quiet, thoughtful gestures. But the street was empty, bathed in the soft morning light spilling across the snow-dusted town.

For a brief moment, you wondered if this was Tommy, playing one of his pranks on you. He would be the type to mess with you like this. But no—Tommy wouldn’t have been able to resist bragging about it, he was much too proud to do something this thoughtful and remain anonymous.

Suspicion crawled up your spine again, and your thoughts immediately landed on one person.

Joel.

Yesterday, the mysteriously fixed door. Today, the snow cleared. And now, the firewood. It couldn’t all be coincidence, could it? You chewed the inside of your cheek, weighing the possibility.

The idea that Joel—the man who had barely spoken to you in weeks, the one who had kept his distance—might be behind this felt almost… absurd. But at the same time, you couldn’t shake the thought.

You stood there for a moment longer, staring out at the empty street, your mind racing. The thought of Joel quietly looking out for you, going out of his way without even telling you, left you feeling strangely unsettled. It didn’t make sense, yet a part of you knew—he was the only person it could be.

As you stepped outside, the faint breeze brushing against your cheeks, your eyes instinctively scanned the street, and there he was.

Joel stood by the stables, his back to you, deep in conversation with Tommy. His arms were crossed over his chest, his posture rigid, as though he carried the weight of a world unseen. For a moment, you stood still, rooted to the spot, watching him, your thoughts spinning.

Could it really be him?

You couldn’t help but remember the sharpness in his voice the last time you had clashed—the coldness in his eyes when he’d called you a burden. His words had sliced through you like ice, leaving behind a wound that still stung. It was a moment you hadn’t been able to shake, no matter how hard you tried. That Joel, the one who had made you feel small and unwanted, couldn’t be the same person quietly taking care of you now. Could he? And if so, why?

And yet, there was this. The fixed door. The neatly cleared snow. The replenished firewood. These were acts of quiet kindness, thoughtful gestures that didn’t align with the distant, sharp-edged Joel you remembered. They didn’t make sense—not with the man who had gone out of his way to keep you at arm’s length.

Your gaze lingered on him, the questions swirling in your mind. What was he trying to tell you? Or was he even trying at all? The small, invisible acts felt like whispers of a truth you weren’t quite ready to face. Something about Joel didn’t add up—and that unsettled you more than anything else.

•••

Later that day, you made your way to the stables, seeking the quiet solace that always came from being around your horse—a ritual that had become your sanctuary on days off from patrol. The stable was your refuge, a place where the weight of everything outside seemed to lift, where your mind could finally quiet. The familiar scent of hay filled the air, mixed with the earthy warmth of the animals and the soft rhythm of their breathing. It was calming, grounding.

As you entered, your horse whinnied softly in recognition, his large brown eyes locking onto yours with a familiar sense of trust. You smiled, the tension in your shoulders easing slightly as you approached him. Running your fingers through the rough texture of his mane, you began brushing it with gentle, practiced strokes. The repetition was soothing, and though it was a routine, it felt like something more—a quiet, unspoken connection that tethered you to something steady amidst the chaos of life.

You were so lost in the quiet rhythm of brushing your horse, in the familiar warmth and stillness of the stable, that you didn’t notice someone else had entered. It wasn’t until a voice, deep and familiar, broke through the calm that you realized you weren’t alone.

“Hey.”

The sound startled you, and you turned quickly, your breath catching in your throat. Joel stood a few feet away, his posture relaxed but his expression unreadable. It wasn’t just his presence that surprised you—it was that he was talking to you at all.

“Hey,” you replied, your tone more guarded than you intended. Instinctively, your walls went up, the wariness creeping in like a defense mechanism. This was Joel, after all, and every interaction with him carried a weight, an undercurrent of tension, with so many unsaid things lingering between you, like ghosts refusing to be laid to rest.

The silence that followed felt thick, hanging in the air as you stood there, bracing yourself for whatever came next. With Joel, you never knew if his words would cut, or if he’d just turn and leave, like so many times before.

But something was different this time. Instead of the familiar tension that usually thickened the air between you, there was a quiet understanding, a silence that wasn’t heavy or uncomfortable. It was… calm. The kind of calm that settled over you both as you went about your tasks, tending to your horses in a shared silence that, for once, felt like enough. The sharpness that usually lingered between you was absent, and for the first time in a long while, you didn’t feel the urge to fill the space with awkward conversation or unspoken explanations.

Curiosity tugged at you, and you glanced over at Joel. He was focused on his horse, his hands moving with a practiced care that mirrored your own—a surprising gentleness in the way he brushed the coat, checked the reins, and tended to his mount. It was so natural for him, almost second nature, and watching him like this, in the quiet of the stable, was different. The weight he always seemed to carry, the burden you often felt in his presence, wasn’t as visible here. There was something almost peaceful about seeing him in this light—away from the guarded walls, the harsh edges.

Before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out. “How’s your hand?”

Your voice was softer than you intended, the question carrying more weight than you meant for it to. You held your breath, unsure how he’d respond. Joel glanced over, his eyes meeting yours, lingering there for a moment longer than usual, something unspoken passing between you. Then, almost absentmindedly, he flexed his hand, as if testing its strength.

The bandage was gone now, replaced by a pale scar tracing its way across his palm, a quiet reminder of that day. He lifted his hand slightly, giving you a clearer view of the mark, and for a brief second, you both just stared at it—the silence between you no longer tense, but strangely reflective.

“It’s better,” he said, his voice low and gravelly, but with a softness you weren’t used to hearing from him. There was no edge, no coldness—just a simple, honest reply.

You nodded, your gaze lingering on the scar for a beat longer before you turned back to your horse. “That’s good,” you murmured, and somehow, it was. Knowing that he was healing, that the wound had closed, left you feeling unexpectedly lighter, though you couldn’t quite pin down why.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable like before; something had shifted, subtle but there. Joel went back to packing up his things with his usual quiet efficiency, moving as if nothing had happened. But you found yourself watching him from the corner of your eye, your mind swirling with questions—questions you weren’t sure you were ready to ask.

Just as he was about to leave, his figure slipping into the shadows at the far end of the stable, something inside you stirred—a pull, an instinct you couldn’t shake. Your heart beat a little faster, a sense of urgency you couldn’t explain. You hesitated, the words on the tip of your tongue, unsure if you should let them fall. But the moment was there, hanging in the air, and part of you knew if you didn’t reach out now, it might slip away entirely.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the stillness, louder than you intended. Joel stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face you. His eyes found yours, steady but questioning, waiting for what you had to say.

For a moment, you hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest. You didn’t know why this mattered so much, but it did. You needed to know. The words felt heavier than they should, as if each one carried a weight far beyond the simplicity of the question itself.

“Did you… fix my door?”

Your voice softened, almost uncertain, but the question hung in the air between you. Joel’s expression didn’t shift, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something you couldn’t quite read, yet it felt all too familiar.

There was a beat of silence, the air between you suddenly thick with unspoken tension. Joel didn’t answer right away; he held your gaze, his eyes dark and searching, as though he were measuring the significance of something so small, so seemingly inconsequential. The moment stretched out, loaded with anticipation, making you acutely aware of everything around you—the ground beneath your feet, the faint whinny of your horse in the distance.

After what felt like an eternity, he gave the slightest nod, his posture relaxed but his presence charged with an intensity that unsettled you. “Yeah, I fixed it,” he said, his tone casual, almost dismissive, as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world. Yet even as he spoke, his eyes remained locked on yours, revealing a depth that contradicted his easy words. It felt like a quiet admission—like this small act was far more than just fixing a door.

It made sense now, knowing he’d seen you struggling with it that day, his gaze lingering as you wrestled with the stubborn knob, frustration clear in your movements. He hadn’t said a word, but the fact that he’d gone out of his way to help—it tugged at something deep inside you.

His attempt to downplay it only sharpened the contrast between the gesture and the unspoken understanding between you, a bridge between two people who had spent so long pushing each other away. That tiny thread of connection, fragile but undeniable, hung in the air like a promise of something deeper.

You swallowed hard, the tightness in your throat making it difficult to speak, but you pushed the words out. “And... you cleared the snow in front of my house?” As the realization sank in, a faint heat crept up your neck, and suddenly, you struggled to meet his gaze, unsure why the simple question made you feel so exposed. The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with something unspoken, until he gave the slightest nod.

The acknowledgment sent a jolt through you, though you tried to keep your expression neutral. “And the firewood... you filled the bin?” you added, your voice quieter now, feeling even more aware of his presence than before.

Your voice barely rose above a whisper now, each question adding to the tension building between you, the weight of the realization pressing against your chest. Joel said nothing, but the intensity of his gaze spoke volumes, his silence holding more meaning than words ever could.

There was no grand declaration, no apology, no explanation—just that quiet, wordless acknowledgment. It had been him. Every time. He had been looking out for you, in his own silent, stubborn way, without ever needing to tell you.

“You didn’t have to do that. I don’t... I don’t need your help.” The words came out sharper than you meant, laced with the same defiance you’d thrown at him after that first run-in with the raider. You remembered the tension, the way you’d stubbornly insisted you could handle it, and how he had been just as unwavering, silently reminding you that you couldn’t. Now, as the words hung between you, that same feeling flickered to life—pride mixed with frustration, though this time it felt more complicated.

Now, standing here in the thick, loaded silence, those old wounds hovered between you, threatening to open again. You wanted to reject his kindness, to hold on to that stubborn pride that had become a defense mechanism after all the hurt you’d carried. But a part of you—small, buried, but growing—wanted to accept it, wanted to let yourself lean into the warmth of what he was offering.

Joel’s gaze softened, his rough voice breaking the silence. “I know.” There was something different in his tone this time, something almost gentle, and it made your heart clench in a way you weren’t prepared for.

He looked down, shifting uncomfortably as if he wasn’t used to these moments, these conversations that brushed too close to vulnerability. “I shouldn’t have said… those things.” His words were gruff, awkward, but sincere, and you could tell it wasn’t easy for him to admit.

His hands were stuffed into his pockets, his shoulders hunched ever so slightly, and for the first time, you didn’t see Joel Miller as the man you had sparred with, or the one who had saved you. Instead, you saw him as someone carrying the weight of his own regret—regret for the words he had said, and the way he had treated you.

“I’m not good with words,” he added, his voice rough, and you realized that this—this awkward, halting admission—was as close to an apology as Joel was capable of. It wasn’t grand, but it was real, and it hit you harder than you’d expected. You thought about what Ellie had said—that Joel kept himself walled off, a fortress built to survive, to keep from getting hurt again.

Your eyes held his, the tension between you shifting ever so slightly, as though this small, almost imperceptible gesture was his way of trying to close the distance between you—a distance shaped by the sharp words and cold walls that once stood in your way.

As he turned to leave, something tugged at you. “Joel,” you called softly, your voice almost catching in your throat. He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, waiting.

You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but not wanting to let him go without acknowledging the moment. “Thank you,” you murmured, the words simple but heavy with everything left unsaid.

His eyes met yours, just for a beat, and though he said nothing, the flicker of understanding in his gaze told you he’d heard more than just your words. With a small nod, he turned and walked away, leaving behind the faint echo of something unresolved, but no longer as distant.

You stood there, the warmth of the hay and the soft rustling of the horses grounding you in the quiet aftermath of his departure.

•••

Tag list!

@valkyreally @ccmoonshine @dlwrish @immyowndefender @babygals-world @zenrobbins0021 @malfoycassimalfoy @damneddamsy @atenceladusiaawfytbwb @frogjumps-world @dendulinka6 @orcasoul @whirlwindrider29 @lol-im-done

@somedayheaven @ohdearvalentine @keseqna @kulekehe

@darkheartgatita @ickearmn @spacegirl-3 @mystickittytaco

[yaut-jaknowit]

Back again with yet another idea -🥤

So this could be with any of the beans but I was thinking that the reader got caught by some bad bloods or human and experimented on. One of those being something that slowly transforms them into a yautja. The reader might try to hide this from their mate (like the scales slowly appearing, how sensitive your senses are becoming) but the reader can’t hide much from an experienced yautja

The Wrong Secret to Hold

Pairings: Ahtaal (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Warnings: mentions of self harm (needing to rip off skin) (?)

Word Count: 2334

Summary: Ahtaal may no be an enforcer but when he found out you were stolen right off of his ship, he became one. Just for that reason. He tracked you down through the stars until he was able to pinpoint your location. From there, he tore apart the bad bloods who stole you. But it was already too late. The bad bloods had already planted a seed.

Author Note: I love the fact you called them beans! I'm going to refer to them like that for now on. It's always great to see from you Cup Anon!

Masterlist

Ao3

Three weeks has passed since Athaal saved you from a cunning duo of Bad Bloods. He may not be an enforcer but he took upon himself to kill them after they kidnapped you. Right from the safety of his spacecraft. A mistake he has since learned from, increasing the security of the ship’s systems. He had almost lost you, his mate.

After he retrieved you, gaining the two skulls of those who wronged you. Both of them hang nicely above your shared bed. A bed you were curled up in, even after being awake for at least three hours. Three hours of rest you desperately needed. In the end, they were lost.

The nest like bed built into the floor was usually comfort, perfect to curl up in and nap. Everything was too much. The room was too cold. The air too dry. The blankets too scratchy. Then, there was the noise of the engines. They caused a raging headache to pound in your skull, driving away every rational thought in your mind.

Everything was too much.

This had progressed ever since Ahtaal saved you from those Bad Bloods. Your memory of your time with them was foggy, blurry of what they might have done to you. It wasn’t long they held you but they had changed something in you. You blamed it on the trauma they had put you through, part of the reason why you couldn’t recall what happened to you.

Athaal saw an uptick in your heartbeats. Not by much, only ten on average, but called it normal. Fear of a prey animal only reacting. That was that.

Then, the oversensitivity began to grow. Even the clothes Athaal had stolen for you from earth were too much to put on. Yet, your mind warred on the fact being naked was bad or being driving into insanity when you could feel your own skin. You had to reframe yourself from scratching your skin off every time you breathed.

All the blankets had been pushed of out the massive concave bed. They had been touching you, grazing your skin. The feel of them made you want crawl out of your own body and throw yourself into a pit of lava.

As this progressed as well, you refrained from telling Athaal. He’s been stressed since you’ve been napped right from underneath his mandibles. He’s been working hard on the ship, ensuring the same thing never happens to you again. Plus, with the killing, he also had to make a case against his clan’s court about the legal execution of the Bad Bloods. Not that the seem to disagree but it all revolve around the honor code. To keep the balances and checks in their strict system.

The last thing that Athaal needed added to his plate was whatever was affecting you. It would pass. It was just trauma. Your scenes overworking to keep you safe after such an attack.

Until you wondered into the bathroom to relieve yourself only to find… scales?! Your hands grasped the porcelain sink, heart beating at a thousand miles per second. You felt lightheaded, legs ready to give out at any moment. There were scales starting to grow on your chest.

Your fingertips gingerly touched the rough patches and winced since they were sensitive too. Tears burned your eyes, right on the edge of falling. Why was this happening to you? What was happening to you?! There’s no scientific reason for something like this to occur. You didn’t know of any disease in the universe that could cause this to appear.

What strength you had left, you stumbled back to the bed and collapsed onto it. The softness of the bed irritated your skin and made it feel like hot pokers were digging into where the cushion touched you. With an annoyed growl, you climbed back out and laid on your back.

The floor was unforgiving, cool to the touch. Yet, it was an improvement to the bed that made you want to desperately claw at your own skin. You huffed and curled up into a ball, hands covering your head as if protecting you from an attack. Your scenes were still on fire, driving you up the nearest wall. But, the energy to move was gone. Then, you were asleep. A fitful, restless sleep.

Raging hungry stirred you from your wasteful nap. A growl sounded from the back of your throat, sounding deep and dangerous. You stretched out only to bump into something warm. You froze. Then, slowly, you creeped your gaze over your shoulder to find the red form of Ahtaal sleeping at your back, chest facing you. Fear creeped into your heart, pumping into your veins. The lump in your throat was swallowed down thought. He wasn’t awake.

One of his arms was draped over your torso and kept you securely pressed against his body. At any other time, you would’ve enjoyed this soft moment with him. His loving embrace. But his heat, the texture of the scales on his chest. It was overwhelming.

Despite the love for him telling you to endure this discomfort, you grasped his wrist and held it up. It weighed a lot due to the muscles that cord it. But, you were able to roll out from underneath him. You climbed out of the bed then stopped and turned to look down at him for a fleeting moment. He was still, breathing normal, eyes closed. He hadn’t woken up.

A soft sigh of relief left you. You about faced again and snuck away towards the kitchen. Anything to quell this pang of hunger that curled and boiled deep inside of you. In all of your years, you’ve never felt like before. Even if you hadn’t ate the day before, and you had.

The open kitchen was dark as you worked inside of it, not needing light on to see. You worked diligently. Two bowls of fruits and a plate of dried meat was your preparing meal. Even that seemed not to be enough for you in the sight of your eyes.

Unease crawled up your spine. Instinct roared its head. A growl rumbled from the depths of your chest as you leaned over your prepare food, eyes darting out to the open space. Your teeth bared.

Ahtaal stood in the doorway of the kitchen, posture lax but eyes watchful. Your growl lessened until he took a step towards you. One of your hands slammed down on the counter. Part of the warnings that ranged from you not to step an inch closer. This was your food. No one would take it from you.

Through the darkness of the ship, you saw the way his head jerked back and he didn’t move any closer. The whisper of your name rolled off of his forked tongue. Questioning. Your piercing gaze refused to move away from the threat that could take away your nourishment. Food you were desperate to consume but not with him there. Eating would be an opportunity for attack.

His dark form stepped back and eased the pressure his presence seemed to caused to you. Your growled lightened slightly but your eyes didn’t wander. They were pinned strictly on him. His brows furrowed before he slowly knelt down. Anything to appear he wasn’t a threat to you, his mate. Submissive as the position seemed, he did it for you.

Your name fell from his tongue again. That’s when your scenes, this primal instinct started to clear. You shook your head, eyes flickering down to the floor. All of your thoughts scrambled as you attempted to make sense of what you just did.

One of your hands covered your mouth. What was that? Terror overtook every emotion inside of you. Your gaze met his again but as the prey you were. The exit was blocked by his kneeling body. Your heart pounded like a bird desperate for escape. You back away from him and the food, back meeting the wall opposite to him.

“Little one?” he softly called out to you.

Those Bad Bloods. They had done something terrible to you. There was something terrible wrong with you now. Your terrified gaze met his again. Then, you bolted.

Strong arms ensnared around your torso before you could escape. Heat pressed against your back. Your nails raked down thick scales, failing to cause any damage. Your legs kicked and hits his thighs and stomach but did nothing to deter him. Ahtaal traps your back to his chest and stand. Now, you were up in the air as he pinned you to him.

The restless sleep and everyday waking up more tired than the day before caught up to you. The adrenaline couldn’t keep up. You slowly go limp in his hold, chest heaving for breaths.

Ahtaal sets you back down on the ground and spins you around to face him. Those dark eyes of his are scanning every inch of your face and body. They narrowed down on your eyes. His hand pinched your jaw and dragged your head up. “Your eyes… they’re lightly glowing,” he grounded out. You felt his claws digging into the flesh of your cheeks for a moment.

His gaze continued until it notices the rough patch on your chest. The red giant pushes you back until your shoulder blades touched a wall. A hand softly encircling your throat to keep you pinned. He leaned down. His free hand running over the textured skin. You hissed and squirmed in his hold. “Stop, that hurts,” you whined, voice grumbler than usual.

Next, he moved his mouth to the crook of your neck. You felt his tongue rung across the skin there. Ahtaal tensed and growled shortly.

“You smell like a Yautja.” Instantly, you thought he was thinking you were somehow cheating on him or the Bad Bloods scent still lingered on your skin. He pulled back to look you in the eye again. “But it’s your scent.” The words were softly spoken, as if in disbelief.

The hand trapping your neck drifted up to cup your cheek. “What did they do to you?” he snarled but the anger was directed at the two who stole you from him. The question was meant mainly for himself but opened for you to answer.

You swallowed hard, chest still heaving to calm your racing heart. “I-I don’t know,” you cried, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “Something’s wrong with me. Everything’s too loud. Everything’s too much. The air is too dry. It’s cold. My skin… I can feel everything!” Even his hand touching you was starting to drive you insane. The texture was rough against your sensitive skin.

Everything went still. But you could easily hear the engines rumbling, his heart pounding. You could smell his concern, his confusion, his anger. You could read him the same way he could read you.

His furrow deepened before his hand softly left your cheek. It was instant relief. Less contact. Less touch. Less everything.

“I keep the ship colder for you. I lessen the humidity for you,” he muttered and returned to his full height, gaze blank. He was working overtime in his mind. The gears spinning quickly to come up with a solution. You stood leaning against the wall, fingers twitching with the need to rip your own skin off again. “And… you can see in the dark, can’tcha?” Your weak sigh answered him, eyes closing to block out everything.

He took a couple of steps back and shakes his head, trying to deny this. Internally, he was attempting to put the pieces together. To figure out what they have done to his mate. Yet, none of it made sense. The site he found you at… those Bad Bloods, they- his mind stopped there. Pausing as the realization dawned upon his form. Experimented. On you. His mate. They had injected something into you to change you from his perfect mate.

A deafening growled tumbled from his chest. Your hands slammed over your ears at the sound. A pained cry leaving your chapped lips. He stopped immediately and even flinched himself. Pauk.

Instantly, his first mission was to find a way to fix this. To fix you. To save you. To help you. A firm, stern gaze passed over his features. He reached out and tilted your head back. Your eyes sliding open to find the dark gaze of your mate on you. “I will find a way to help you. I will scour this entire universe for a cure,” he grounded out, voice low to help ease the pain it may cause to you.

The Yautja was beyond pissed. He wished to go back when he slaughtered those two Bad Bloods and made their death even longer. For all the pain they have caused you that’s currently injuring you. His mandibles clicked against one another in a harsh way.

You believed him. You knew he would. He’s been through thick and thin with you. You are his as much as he is yours. The corresponding marks etched into the backs of your shoulders was physical proof enough. He grunted with a nod then glanced over at forgotten food. “It seems like you have a Yautja appetite,” he stated and pulled away from you. You dipped your head and also gazed at the dishes.

“Come,” he called and strolled over to the plates. Ahtaal picked up all three skillfully and brought them over to the table. “Eat. Eat everything you desire. It will take you time to grow accustom to this new side of you. But I will help you in every step of the way.” If it didn’t hurt, you would’ve hugged and kiss the alien to death.

Slowly, you moved over and gingerly sat down in a seat he designed for your smaller statue. Until your hunger was satisfied, he fed you whatever you wanted and needed. In that moment, you knew you could never want or need anyone else besides him.

[spacexgrl]

Bittersweet ! 🎀

mdni <3 you’re here pt 5

series masterlist 💋

~ in which Ellie breaks up with you and you go a little crazy ~

ex! ellie williams x fem! reader , abby anderson x fem! reader

college au!

warnings: angst, break up, cheating,cursing, toxic behavior, smut in future chapters, sexual themes<3 feminine and girly reader ,not proof read!!

taglist: pls comment if you want to be added! <3 @elliessweetheart @lonelyfooryouonly @vamp1reg1rrrl @autisticintr0vert @amsxdoll @addthespaghetti @hemmo01 @elliecoochieeater @to-the-stray-dogs @undercuver @teenagemoonharmony @velvetcakegirlie @kl1q @cirrusdoll @icedsimpsayo

“meet me after practice?”

Abby asked you as she parked her car on the campus parking lot and opened the door for you, sticking her hand out to help you hop out easier you really didn’t want to be so down bad for her..but shit her sweet and caring nature definitely wasn’t helping that.

“hmm i don’t know..Ellie still has some things at my place and i want her completely gone by the end of the week. If i can’t make it before friday i’ll catch you at Jesse’s party kay?”

you gave her a long goodbye kiss with little smiles in between how can someone be so damn cute?? you asked yourself as abby locked eyes with you, still caged in her gracious arms slowly losing yourself in the ocean of her eyes. If you could you’d drown and die in them. If only

“i’ll make sure to see you before friday, doll..don’t miss me too much though”

both of you laughed as you hit her playfully, she let you out of her grasp and walked you towards your first lecture of the day, your best friend was already waiting for you at the door raising her eyebrows as you approached her. She immediately nodded the way Abby squeezed your waist as you said your goodbyes and parted ways in the hallway, her eyes never leaving you until you were out of sight.

“you’ve got some explaining to do young lady”

💫

you spent the whole lecture with updating her on everything that went down last night. She was always on your side as you explained what happened between you and Ellie, you were lying if you said that you completely moved on from her already of course not..fuck it’s not as easy as you thought it would be.

Even though everything felt easy with Abby, she distracted you in the best way possible, she had everything that Ellie didn’t give you, she made you forget how miserable Ellie made you feel but you still felt it crashing down on you the moment you separated. Ellie’s reaction to you hanging out with Abby didn’t help either, you were mad at yourself for letting her still have an affect on you…but you won’t let her get to you, she’s not yours anymore.

Still Ellie managed to trouble your thoughts as you got through your day, you decided to unblock her and sent her a quick message..you needed her out of your life as soon as possible.

get the rest of your things tonight, i want you gone

i’ll be there,love

you almost gagged at her text, the nerve she had using the cute nickname she’d always call you..well before dina entered the picture obviously. You felt bad for her, you really did ..you could almost see how Ellie gave her empty promises and sweet nothings…she sure knew how to make a girl fall in love..too bad that she’ll be the one dying alone if she doesn’t change her ways.

Luckily that wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you finished up your notes for upcoming exams, happy with your work and progress. You felt free, you’ll never have to deal with the pressure of being enough for Ellie or anyone anymore. Pride swelled up in your chest as you checked your makeup in your little hello kitty compact mirror. Maybe you were imagining things but you noticed your skin was glowier than ever..radiant even,your blemishes were clearing up nicely and your lips weren’t as chapped as before..they were pillowy soft as you rubbed them together to gloss up your lips after you reapplied your yummy strawberry lipgloss..it’s like your body was detoxifying from Ellie.

Your weren’t the only one that noticed it.

Your best friend has always been your biggest fan dang Abby’s been doing you good huh?? she was so right. She kept showering you with compliments the entire day, enamored with the way you carried yourself so confidently and secure about yourself. She desperately wanted needed to be like you one day.

Nora, Abby’s friend and basketball teammate, also asked about what perfume you were using because you smelled so good as you walked past her! Abby didn’t lie when she said that you smelled like a vanilla sugar cookie.

Some girls you’ve never talked to before asked you about your haircare routine while you fixed it in the bathroom. God i wish my hair was so healthy and shiny like yours! you happily shared all your favorite products and how to use them properly.

Your friend Jesse, who was unironically Dina’s Ex boyfriend from their high school years said that you look like you ‘picked up pilates’ in one of your shared lectures. Hey just because of my tracksuit?

“did you know that our exes are dating each other though?”

“don’t remind me, just saw their hard launch stories on ig”

he opened Ellie’s instagram account and handed you his phone to look at her stories, everything was full of Dina. She never bothered to post anything about you in the last years. You scoffed as you gave the phone back.

“Well at least we’re the hot exes”

Ellie rolled her eyes at your comment, she’s been creeping up on you from the moment you climbed out of Abby’s car, always in your shadows without you knowing, right now she was sitting right behind you. She really didn’t want to be with you..but she couldn’t exactly be without you either so you could imagine how excited she got as you told her to pick up some stuff that she left on purpose for this exact reason. She needed to see you, she needed to feel you. Rage consumed her brain knowing that Anderson could rip you away from her like it was nothing. She was physically with Dina but her soul was still intertwined with yours fuck..she remembers how she accidentally called out for you instead of her as she fucked Dina into her mattress during one of their many study sessions, at this point she was begging Ellie to break up with you for the sake of their relationship but she refused, only taking actions as Dina threatened to break it off if she didn’t end things with you immediately. So she did. And now? She was in shambles, a miserable wreck without your love and she regretted it so deeply. Seeing you so carefree and happy without her left a bitter taste of jealousy in her mouth. It wounded her ego even. Maybe she was slowly losing her fucking mind.

“Lecture’s over, Williams”

The professor shouted as he packed his things and left the room. Ellie was left alone in the empty room, she was so lost in thought that she didn’t even notice you leaving. Fuck it she’ll be over at your place very soon.

💫

You arrived at home in the late afternoon, your best friend offered you a ride home and dropped you off after getting a sweet treat from your local bakery.

text me after practice <3

you sent abby a quick text as you devoured the sweet sugary goodness.

There was still some time left until Ellie arrived so you decided to do some chores that you’ve been avoiding and changed into a fresh set of soft pink pijamas. You were starting to feel like yourself again and you couldn’t be more grateful.

ding!

you grabbed your phone hoping that Abby replied but it was Ellie instead.

here

you forced yourself up from your comfortable position on the couch to open the door for Ellie. You didn’t want to admit it but she looked good dressed in beat up pants and a white tank top, tattooed arm on display. Her emerald eyes glued on your figure as you lead her to the cardboard box you stuffed with all of her remaining belongings, hoping to speed up the awkward process.

“why are you so tense, love? scared of wanting me?”

her tone was mean and degrading, what was her fucking problem? she broke up with you not the other way around.

“Ellie just take the fucking box and leave”

she approached you, getting closer and closer until your back hit the wall unable to escape her any longer. Her hot breath hit your neck as she took in your sweet scent, her hands slowly found their way to your lower back, sneaking around your lower waist.

“tell me you don’t want me”

she whispered in that low voice that made your stomach flip, her lips almost brushing yours only a few inches away. You felt like sinking your teeth into the forbidden fruit..a short term sweetness that would rot you from the inside and kill you in the most painful way possible.

“Ellie don’t…”

your whined, suddenly unsure about your feelings towards her. Sure you hated her with all your heart but that doesn’t change the fact that she’s still hot as fuck standing right in front of you with her stupid green eyes and that dumb half up half down hairstyle you loved so much..it was messing with your head, you felt hot and hazy, light headed even. Fuck you were going to crack right there and then, just as you were about to give yourself to Ellie your phone lit up.

Incoming call from ‘Abby 🤍’

you managed to escape from Ellie as the sound of your ringtone distracted her for a minute, mentally curing herself out fucking hell she was so close.

You answered the call quickly.

“open the door baby”

oh shit

🎀

pt 6

[metranart]

"Yeah, baby—" his voice was a mix of a snicker and a heady groan, such a sultry tone it made you feel drunk. "Ride my tongue, you, sweet annoying thing," he praised with eyes shut close in concentration and utter enjoyment, "let your hips stutter against my face, like a good girl. Fuck—"

ft. Katsuki Bakugo & Dabi x reader, both thirsty for your attention, both willing to do whatever it takes to have you just for themselves, a complete story with strong overtones of jealousy, sexual frustration and possessiveness.

Bakugou & Dabi X Reader (Shameless smut teaser)

You still remember the day you met Bakugou Katsuki, better known to the world as Dynamight. 

You had been deliberating for weeks about leaving the League of Villains, Shigaraki was losing his temper and every day there were more innocent civilians killed and less progress towards their mutual goal. It was no longer the same League you had joined so long ago, All for One had changed it, deformed it and now their goals and yours were different. Same reason why you asked help from Hawks, you and Dabi never believe his change of sides and in the end, you were right. He helped you leave the League. 

"You'll be okay, (Y/N)" Hawks promised as he flied you away from the secret lair of the League of villains, "we'll protect you, the information you've given us is vital to be able to stay one step ahead of them," the Winged Hero encouraged when he noticed hesitation still present in your eyes, "don't feel bad, I know it wasn't your intention to betray them... after all, they are your friends," he paused to gauge your expressions and soon added, "... you're doing them a favor by trying to stop them, their path only leads to self-destruction. You'll see, everything will be okay." 

Hawks swears to you. The need for you to stand firm in your decision, imperative for the success of his mission. Nevertheless, the blonde still didn't trust you one hundred percent but only time would tell which side you were on. If you were a spy, they would find out, just had to put you under the watchful eye of a competent enough Hero, and that was when you were assigned to him.

Bakugou Katsuki. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. Already an experienced ProHero after graduating from UA Academy as the best of his class. A full-fledged adult on his way up the charts.

You were welcomed into his penthouse temporarily while another safe house was found for you, he would protect you... and keep a close eye on your every move.

At first it was difficult for both to live together, Bakugou was too open with his opinion about the League. "They are bumps who didn't have the courage to be anything more than villains." And your insistence on defending them always sparked a debate. "They are people rejected by society for being different... you wouldn't know it, since you fit perfectly into the gears of this rotten mechanism."

Bakugou barked his protests at you, even so, you never backed down, always standing firm before his imposing personality. You were a beautiful contradiction, the champagne-haired man had never met someone like you. You tempered and sailed his explosive temperament without fear or intimidation and that had him captivated, perplexed, highlymesmerized. Slowly, earning yourself a special place in his complicated heart, crawling under his skin despite his protests... every day, there was less screaming and more laughter, less fighting and more flirting. 

Bakugou Katsuki's bleeding heart had learned to race at dangerous speeds in your presence, and more so, when an accidental, playful romp led to this embarrassing situation: Him on top of you in the living room couch, pinning your petite form under his massive one.

Weeks ago, you’d been quarreling with him no end, and he’d appeared all the less happy to have you as a roommate, like an unwelcome guest. And now here he was, nested between your spread legs, sucking your clit into his mouth and nibbling on it like it was his favorite candy.

Your legs twitched as his mouth worked with expert dexterity and shot pleasure up your spine, arching your back off the couch just for your pussy to meet his face in a blunter smash. Even so, he kept pushing you down on him, like he couldn’t get enough of you. Katsuki Bakugou was greedy, greedier than you ever anticipated. Even greedier than him.

His tongue licked a particularly skillful heart-shaped form over your clit and your thoughts abandoned the memory of that crispy skin and cerulean eyes that insisted on chasing you. Your hands shot down to grab him by his sweaty neck just to end up, scrunching into his hair to pull him hard. 

"Yeah, baby—" his voice was a mix of a snicker and a heady groan, such a sultry tone it made you feel drunk. "Ride my tongue, you sweet annoying, thing," he praised with eyes shut close in concentration and utter enjoyment, "let your hips stutter against my face. Fuck— I love it so damn much!" 

Bakugou licked and sucked with insatiable hunger. You didn’t even realize you kept smashing your throbbing cunt into his mouth until a hot trail of spit ran down your thighs, down the curve of your ass.

"I, myself, love a messy pus-"

"-Bakugou." Your complaint cut him midsentence, but his playful spank on the side of your ass, startled you. 

"What the fuck did I just say, (Y/N)?" he growled into your folds, your pussy twitching in tandem. A moan forcing its way from your throat to become a timid and embarrassed purr.

"I-I mean, Katsuki." He had cornered you to use his first name, after all, he was going to have his mouth on your pussy.

He hummed pleased, and in appreciation, put his whole mouth on you and making a seal with his lips, sucked hard. Your hips twitched and you whimpered, fingers digging into his muscular shoulders.

He gripped your hips a little harder, brought you closer, fingers massaging teasingly into your soft flesh. His tongue flicked wildly against you. The wet, lapping sound ridiculously and unfairly lewd.

He made a pleased, humming growl against you, and the vibrations made you shiver, made your eyes flutter closed. 

His mouth sucked in a hurried, excited breath, and then went back down, sloppy and hot and wet and so ready to make you cum. You were awfully close, painfully ready to burst when suddenly he stopped his movements all together like the expert tease that he was.

A slick-stained smirk peeked up at you from between your trembling thighs and his dripping chin, glazed in your juices, got cleaned up on your discarded panties.  

“I know, I know.” He sing sang pretending to be apologetic. “Is just that I want us to cum together the first time.” Bakugou chuckled quietly, adoring the way you couldn’t catch your breath, “I’m a romantic like that.”

He was an irremediable asshole, an incompressible tease, the worst kind of human being… and you were loving each little fiber of him, Damn it! He was so infuriating, effectively domesticating you in every possible way. 

“You ass,” eventually were able to mutter in a broken, ragged gasp, just managing to make him snicker even louder. Those deep crimson eyes drinking attentively every heave, pant and groan you had in you.

Your eyes fluttering open as you felt him fit himself between your tense thighs again, the thick length of his warm cock a huge distraction as it squeezed its massive girth against your sensitive, recently licked, folds. 

“You are the worst, Katsuki,” you meowled aggravated, "using me as a glorified cocksleeve-"

His strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to swallow your complains and grumbles with a savory kiss, allowing only the moaning pleasure to flood the living room, the feel of him through the thick fabric of his jeans, somehow more erotic than having him fully naked. 

“I’m going to take care of that pouty mouth of yours,” he warned you between gluttonous kisses, teeth grazing the corner of your mouth  before, in all suddenness, lifted you off the couch as if you weighted nothing and started to squeezed himself behind you, until his back was flush against the backrest and your body cuddled in front of him, close to be hanging from the edge of the sofa, if it wasn't for his arm holding you tight against him, strapping you safe to his muscular body.

"Just like that..." he muttered in a quiet grunt, more to himself, "...relax for me, pretty. Let me take care of everything."

“Bak-...Katsuki,” you breathed, correcting yourself before you could call him by his surname again.

He stared down at you from the rim of your shoulder, crimson-red eyes near reverent, and the entire new position crawled chills up your spine.

“Are you comfortable?” the Prohero asked you in a sultry purr and you nodded, dreamily. 

Strangely, you were more than comfortable, you felt immensely safe inside his covetous hug, two strong arms claiming you to its owner. The position carving each pectoral and abdominal muscle of Bakugou's body on your back. He kicked down his jeans until pooled at his ankles and then slowly shove your skirt further up until bunched around your waist and pushed your panties down your calves, letting them hang from one ankle, precariously. 

"Good, I need you to be comfortable," he stated in an odd, perverted pride, “…I’m quite big.” 

You squinted your eyes at him, playful doubt shining on your orbs, and he chuckled. “You’ll see.”

-

After countless encounters with Bakugou's possessive nature, he had tagged you as his and now, you felt worse than even since you had led him right into a trap... but that wasn't your intention. Apparently, Shigaraki had learned to read you better than you remembered and what was supposed to be a surprise attack turned into a full-blown fight.

"—Where's (Y/N), Deku?" Bakugou yelled at the green-haired Hero when he couldn't find you anywhere.

"She was behind me just now," Deku said but soon realized his mistake. "Dammit!"

ProHeroes and League members were fighting in every corner of the place, it was a real mess but even more disastrous was the fact that you were now cornered by the person you least wanted to see.

“Oi.” 

Dabi greeted you, blue flames dancing across his slender fingers like a vivid threat, an amused smirk gracing his lips almost offensively. 

“Was it seven months?” those lips pursed, mischievously, at how uncomfortable he was making you. “I must admit, I was almost hoping to see you, all round and heavy, with my child in that cute belly.” You squirmed visibly at the thought, “after all, we used to fuck like rabbits,” he took one step towards you and you took one step away, “so full of disappointments—my little, beautiful traitor."

Shallow breaths contaminated your peace and in a foolish hope you tried to run but he was expecting it, and in an unfortunate turn, you found yourself draped by two strong, scarred arms. Hot breath fanning your ear. 

“My memory never does you justice,” his voice shared in a hiss and grunted, jaw tensing, and with practiced composure put the fire down in his fingers. You noticed it.

"I thought you wanted to crisp me to death." Dabi entertained your little outburst with sadistic patience. Circling a loop of blue flames between his fingers to keep you on your toes. "—Don't tell me you actually miss me." You scoffed openly and the flame-user extended a glowing palm for it to blaze in front of your face. 

“You can’t just keep burning everyone you don’t like—” 

He happily ignored you. The hot glare of his palm smoldered into the bursting blue of his flames as they lit up his fingers, menacingly. 

“Says who?” Cerulean eyes spared a glance down at you, with a droll look on his face that put the hair in your arm on end. "Dynamight?"

Your tensed frame hooked the corner of his lips farther up. "Fond of your new boy toy? such a shame," he muttered, looking down on you with a cheeky smirk, "I’m gonna break him."

Those shinning, crazed eyes suddenly took a side-long inspection of your reaction, then hardened ever so slightly to see the poorly hidden condemnation on your face.“Don't fucking tell me ya love him.” He demanded quietly, heavily sarcastic to hide his interested disdain and your silence only made his flames fan harder with a hint of unrequested but very real, jealousy. 

“Him or me?" Dabi asked oddly calm, "You ought to solve this... before I do.....”

*READ THE COMPLETE 8000 WORD COMISSION IN MY PATREON. (Includes heavy/possessive/mouthwatering smut and NSFW art from scenes of the fic. Plus, lot of MHA NSFW content in general)

[walkingstackofbooks]

Consider: Julian being pregnant with Yoshi and going to Federation parenting classes with Miles and Keiko. And encountering a list of all the rights and freedoms every child is supposed to be entitled to. Some of which... don't sound like his childhood. (Cw child abuse)

I've got SO MANY more ideas for this it may turn into a series who knows??? But I want to share it now so people can maybe like it? Because I have feeeelings.

--

"So these are just, uh, suggestions, right? Parents don't have to do all of them?" Julian asked, instantly regretting it. If Miles' dirty look was anything to go by, clearly that had been the wrong thing to say.

"Julian," he gritted out, "you're my best mate and you're carrying my child so I'm going to give you a chance to explain. What the hell do you mean by that?"

Julian really wasn't sure that he could. Some of the statements on the poster had surprised him, that was all, but he didn't really want to get into the reasons why.

"Don't, uh— Don't worry. It's not important," he tried to deflect.

"It bloody well is important, if you're just planning to ignore what you're learning here."

"Miles—" Keiko broke in, placing a hand on her husband's knee.

"I didn't mean it like that!" Julian exclaimed, cradling his stomach protectively. "I was just saying that, um... I guess that they're not all as important as each other, are they? Lack of privacy, for example - that's not exactly abusive, is it, like some of the others?"

"That's a common misconception, but no, Doctor Bashir," answered Mx Rakoto. "Any parent showing a consistent failure to meet any one of these standards would be enough to investigate them for abuse."

"Oh."

"What do you mean, "oh"?" Miles asked, with an irritation that compelled Julian to shrug and look away.

"I guess I just didn't realise it was taken that seriously," he replied, feeling kind of silly and small as he said it. "I know we learnt about them in school, but back then it was more of a thing for teachers than parents, wasn't it?"

There was a pause, before Keiko said tentatively, "...These have always been for parents, Julian."

"Mrs O'Brien is correct," Mx Rakoto added. "Your parents would have completed a very similar course to this - some things have changed of course, there's always more progress that can be done, but the fundamental rights and freedoms of children haven't changed, and nor has the law."

"No, but..." Julian's brain didn't seem to be working properly; was he missing something?

"You're saying these are things I should have had at home and at school?"

"Yes?"

"And my parents should have known about them?"

"I would find it hard to believe that they didn't. Parents are required to access learning about this every few years."

"Oh." Julian's voice had gone very quiet at the point. "I think I— I need a minute..." he said shakily, eyes glued to the poster in front of him, reading and rereading the information as he tried to figure out what he'd got wrong.

Right to privacy.

Right to choose their own name.

Right to appropriate support and accommodations of a disability.

Freedom from unnecessary medical interventions.

Freedom from torture.

Right to make mistakes.

"Julian?" asked Keiko softly, startling him out of his thoughts. "Are you alright?"

Slowly, he shook his head. "I didn't know," he whispered. "I mean, it's not like I thought they were great parents, you know, but I didn't think... Well, most people complain about their parents, don't they? I didn't think mine were abnormally bad. But there are so many things—" His voice quavered, almost breaking. "And you say they could have been investigated for just breaking one?"

"What... what kind of things?" asked Miles hesitantly. "Only if you want to tell us, of course."

Julian's eyes flicked around the room, but Mx. Rakoto seemed to have left the room.

"They've gone," confirmed Keiko, seeming to catch onto what he was thinking. "I can go too, if you'd prefer..."

"No - it's alright," said Julian. "It's just... a lot to take in."

His eyes returned to the poster. Right to encouragement. Freedom from humiliation and constant criticism. Right to self-expression. Right to relax and play. Right to mistakes.

"It must be hard, right," he started, looking to them both anxiously, "to keep these all in your head? There's a lot of them, it must be normal to not remember all of them all the time?"

Miles and Keiko exchanged glances, a second-long conversation that Julian was not privy to.

"All parents make mistakes," said Keiko kindly. "It's when these things start getting ignored often that there's a problem."

"And some of them you barely have to think about anyway," added Miles. "You know, "right to shelter", "right to food", "right to clothes" - it's not difficult stuff. You don't have kids if you don't want to look after them properly."

"Then why did my parents find it so difficult?" The words burst out of Julian before he could stop them. "What was so wrong with me that meant they didn't do all this?"

"No, oh no, Julian," said Keiko, as Miles reached out to pull him in for a hug. "Don't think like that. It wasn't you—"

Julian wasn't really listening: his question had finally given him the puzzle piece he had been missing - he'd realised what hadn't been adding up.

"No... no, it's fine," he said, feeling a little floaty now he'd got his thoughts all in order. "No, it was me. I was a difficult kid. That's..." He shook himself, feeling his cheeks get hot as he wondered what the O'Briens must be thinking. "I'm sorry, this session was supposed to be about your child, not about me."

"Our child," corrected Miles gruffly. "And this is important, Julian. I don't give a damn if you were "difficult", your parents don't get to just ignore your rights."

"You don't understand," said Julian desperately, hoping he'd be able to make them see even without mentioning his enhancements. He'd made a real mountain out of a molehill here, he didn't know why he hadn't managed to connect the dots quicker before this all had spiralled out of control. "I tried to piss my parents off. I'd stay out too late and go drinking illegally and date guys way too old for me just because I knew it would annoy them. And I'd always talk back and argue with my dad, and find ways to be smarter than him, and—"

"And none of that was enough to lose your rights, Julian," said Keiko gently. "That's not how it works."

Julian was shaking; he didn't want to listen to them. He'd figured it out - it was his fault his parents hadn't done everything they were supposed to, because if it wasn't his fault, it was their fault, and that meant... well, that they were abnormally bad parents, and that... that...

"Hey," said Miles, more softly than Julian had ever heard him, peeling Julian's hands away from where he'd been covering his ears. "Let's say you're right — just for a moment," he added in response to Keiko's hissed "Miles?". "Maybe we don't understand everything that went on. Why don't you tell us which of these you weren't getting from your parents, yeah? Explain it to us a bit more?"

Flashing him a weak smile, Julian nodded. He should have known he could always count on Miles.

"Okay, yeah, um— so I guess, uh, "right to choose your own name"?" he said, feeling slightly uncomfortable as he watched Keiko pull the poster up on her PADD and circle it, but choosing not to comment. "It wasn't like, transphobic or anything though," he defended. "They'd just always called me 'Jules' since I was little, you know? So it's not really..." He trailed off, shrugging.

"Okay..." said Miles, and Julian tried to ignore the dubious look his friend shot at Keiko. "Anything else?"

"Um - I always had to, uh, leave my door open? Or if I closed it, they wouldn't knock before coming in... That's not that weird though, right? One of my Academy friends thought it was, but--"

"Did you feel like your parents respected your privacy?" asked Keiko, and Julian looked at her for a few seconds, before shaking his head.

"But they were my parents," he said. "That was just how they looked out for me. They were supposed to look out for me."

"And you were supposed to have a right to privacy," replied Keiko, making another circle on her PADD. Fuck, this wasn't going the way Julian had thought it would. Hurriedly, he looked for a different one to try to explain better.

"Constant criticism," he said, distantly noticing the strangled tone to his voice. "That's hardly surprising, right? I mean, if you get things wrong all the time, you're going to be criticised, that's just how it works."

Neither Keiko nor Miles looked convinced; clearly he wasn't trying hard enough, describing clearly enough why it had been alright his parents hadn't been perfect. He was getting this all wrong.

The right to make mistakes.

For some reason, those had been the words his eyes hadn't been able to leave alone. Every time he went past them, his heart caught on them, as though the words were a rusty nail left half-buried in his skin.

It wasn't a fair comparison, really. He had been different to the other children - better, smarter - so of course he hadn't been allowed to make the same mistakes they did. Of course his parents' expectations had been high; they'd known what he was.

But all the same, it sounded nice, that imaginary childhood where all mistakes were okay, not just the ones he'd carefully measured out to avoid detection.

He didn't realise he was crying until he felt a rough thumb wiping a tear off his cheek.

"Oh, Julian," Miles was saying. "It's okay, you can let it out now. We're here for you. I'm so sorry. I wish I'd known."

[vitaminkyeom]

us, again || j.ww

“MAYBE NEXT TIME, IT WILL BE US, AGAIN”

PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader

GENRES || Angst, Fluff, Strangers To Lovers AU (?), Reverse Chronology

SUMMARY || If crush at first sight was a thing then you were a fine example of it. How you were heads over heels with a man you had just met was beyond you but you all you knew was Jeon Wonwoo had occupied every bit of your mind and heart. But when you and him finally began dating, little did the two of you expect a your relationships to turn out this way.

Or, in which, you and Wonwoo unfortunately have a happily never after ending.

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 11.3k

A/N || This was so self indulgent that it almost hurt me to write this fic TT. Based on my interaction with the guy I liked it in college and no we did not end up together i really hate you @wonumatics for instigating me to write this but ngl, it was so so easy to write this and was a huge change for the crazy writers block my other fics have been facing :D. The story is written in a different way, sorry if it's too confusing but i just wanted to try out smth new for this.

TAGLIST || @hanicore @alyssng @hyneyedfiz @weebotakuboy @aaniag @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae @mnstxmnbb @athanasiasakura @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @escoupseu @asasilentreader @isabella29 @mrswonwooo @wonvsmile @nonononranghaee @cheolsboo @hoichi-02 @lanatheawesome @sana-is-ms-rmty @gaslysainz @sea-moon-star @dinossaurz @veriety-is-the-joy-of-life @tinkerbell460 @bluewbwerry @iamawkwardandshy @hoeforcheol @kawennote09 @gyuguys [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

30.09.2024

You stood on a familiar path, the autumn leaves decorating the path just like how it had when you and Wonwoo had walked through it years ago.

Cold wind blew against you but you were so numb with emotions that it didn’t even matter. You took out a photo from your pocket; it was the one you and Wonwoo had taken at the amusement park.

You smiled involuntarily at the memories; even though you had been very scared of the rides, Wonwoo made each ride as rideable as he could.

And you were thankful to him for that.

In fact you were thankful to him for many things. Especially loving you back and giving you his time.

But maybe this lifetime wasn’t meant for the both of you.

“Next time.” You muttered, folding the paper and slipping it back to your pocket. “Maybe next time, it will be us, again.”

30.06.2024

It had been six months since Wonwoo moved out and words couldn’t describe how much you missed him. Even though he was always running in your mind, there were certain times when you missed him even more.

Like now.

You were lying in bed all alone, the morning sun being up for hours. But you were too lazy to wake up, missing the warmth your boyfriend used to give you whenever you snuggled to him or the smell of food as he attempted to cook breakfast for you.

Honestly all you were doing was staring at the ceiling, the feeling of missing Wonwoo almost gnawing at your heart as you glanced at the missed call of his on your phone screen.

The first two months had gone really smoothly. You didn’t mind being woken up early or going to bed late just to talk to him and neither did he. But as the days progressed, you found yourself having to prioritise work or other things before him. And so did he.

Slowly, you two began missing each other’s calls, resorting to texts. 

You both still texted a lot but it wasn’t like talking to him face to face. You missed seeing his face, hearing his voice and the tears pricked your eyes when you realised just how lonely you were feeling.

Or some days you were just too tired to stay awake and fell asleep.

Exactly what had happened yesterday night. And now the guilt along with the longing to be in his arms and bury your face into the crook of his neck to inhale his scent was eating you up.

You took the phone in your hand, wondering whether or not it was the right time to call him.

What if he was sleeping?

But it wouldn’t hurt to give it a shot, right? 

Thinking that, you hit the call button and waited for Wonwoo to pick it up. But even after multiple rings he didn’t pick up, and you sighed before throwing the phone beside you on the bed.

He was probably asleep.

You missed him so much. So, so much. 

You weren’t sure how long you could go about living like this anymore. You had applied to be shifted to the same country as Wonwoo and you were still waiting for the approval. 

But the wait was eating you up.

When was the last time the two of you talked? You couldn’t even remember.

What had gone wrong in the relationship? You weren’t sure. The two of you had promised each other that you won’t be like how you had begun to be whilst living together; missing dates, missing out on talking to each other etc but now it was worse. He was on a whole different continent and you had no way of reaching him even if you wanted to.

You thought of all the time the two of you argued, wondering why you even did that in the first place. Instead the two of you could have made better memories which you could have looked back at now.

And the more you thought of it, the more you realised that most of the arguments were started by you. 

But all because you felt like a burden to him.

It was always you who had to do everything first. You were the first one to reach out to him, The first one to confess. The first one to kiss. The first one to always compliment him. And while you loved his introvertedness you realised with a jolt how that made you exhausted sometimes, being an introvert yourself.

Yet for him you always went out of the way. Trying your best to impress him and shower him with love even in ways you were never that comfortable in.

Shut up!

Why were you having such negative thoughts? Wonwoo loved you. And he always made sure you knew it. So why were you questioning it now?

But no matter how much you tried to shrug off the feeling, you couldn’t stop the pain blossoming in your heart.

Were you both really not meant for each other?

Was that why things had started going down during college itself?

Maybe everyone was right. Wonwoo and you were never meant to be with each other. The two of you might have loved each other, but you just weren’t meant for each other.

No, no, no! Stop these thoughts right now!

You thought of when Wonwoo had come back home three months agp, staying back for fifteen days to visit you, his family and friends.

Back then you had promised him that you would go out with him every single day to make up for all the time you had lost. Had promised the love of your life to give him every second you could.

But you couldn’t.

Right at that time an important project had popped up, nearly rendering you sleepless and breathless. You barely went back home, let alone get time to spend with him.

And before you knew it, it was time for him to leave. You cried so much on the day he left but no amount of tears would bring back the time you had lost and not managed to give him.

Maybe you both weren’t compatible.

Maybe this was your fate. To fall in love with someone who was never meant to be yours in the first place. Someone who deserved better.

Pushing yourself up from your bed, you sighed, making up your mind.

You just couldn’t live like this. Not anymore. 

And you were going to put an end to it.

20.12.2023

“Hey,” You greeted him with a smile as you opened the door, taking in his tired appearance. “Long day?”

“Yeah.” He muttered, stepping into the house. You reached forward to help him shrug off his coat but instead, he pulled you into a hug. 

You found yourself immediately melting into his warmth that encased you, hugging him back equally tight. “What’s wrong?” You asked, gently patting his back.

“What, I can’t hug my girlfriend?” He muttered into your hair, and you found yourself giggling at his actions. “Yeah, you totally can. Lean into me as much as you want, baby.”

After what felt like an eternity Wonwoo pulled away, finally grinning at you. “That felt great.”

You smiled back at him. “Good. Then how about you freshen up while I set up the table? I’m done making dinner.”

“No.” He whispered, suddenly sounding urgent. “We, uh, we need to- we need to talk.”

You look at him, confused as to why he was acting so serious. “About what? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“I- uh, I-” He stammered. Then lowering his head so that it was resting on your shoulders, he murmured. “I’m getting transferred.”

“What?” You asked, not sure if you heard him correctly. “What was that Woo?”

“I’m being transferred. Abroad.”

You stayed silent for a few seconds, letting his words sink into you. 

Transferred abroad.

Slowly, you pulled him away from you so that you could see his face. Wonwoo averted his eyes down and his grip on you tightened.

“You’re…what?” There was no way this was happening right? There was no way Wonwoo was moving away. A hollow sensation filled the pit of your stomach. How were you going to live without being able to be with him everyday?

“Moving abroad. It’s- it’s a better pay and I thought-”

“Wonwoo.” You said, smiling at him as you took his hands in yours. “Do you want to?”

“What?” He asked, sounding confused now. “Do you want to go abroad?” You repeated your question.

“Yeah, I-” He looked down at your intertwined hands. “I do.” He murmured, barely audible. “I do. It’s a great opportunity. But I don’t want to leave you. I can’t imagine-” he sucked in a breath before continuing, “-living without you.”

“Neither can I.” You muttered. “But, if you’re happy, then I’m happy. If moving out is what you want to do, I will wholeheartedly support you. Even if it makes me sad, it will make me sadder knowing I held you back.”

“So… you aren’t upset at all?” He asked. You smiled at him as sweetly as you could, feeling it wobble a little. “Nope.” You choked a bit. “I won’t miss you at all .”

Wonwoo chuckled, before sniffling and to your shock you saw a tear glide down his cheeks. “I love you so much. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Oh Woo.” You sobbed, you too crying as you gently rubbed away the tears from his cheeks with your thumb. Laughing a little as another sob escaped you, you pulled him into a hug. 

Your hands dug into his back as you cried, letting the tears fall now. He too clutched you tightly, as though you might disappear if you let you go even a bit. 

“Do you think we can do it?” He sniffled, to which you nodded. 

“I know we’ve talked about how slowly everything is starting to feel like a chore now, and it’s no more like it used to be in college but I promise you, I’ll keep in touch. I’ll never ever let you go.” You whispered into his shoulder.

“Me too, love. Me too. I promise too.” He said. “I cannot even imagine breathing without you.”

“At least we won’t have missed birthdays or dates.” You joked, still crying. You felt Wonwoo chuckle, his chest rumbling. “Yeah. I’ll call you to greet you good morning and good night no matter the time or day and I expect you to do the same.”

“Right.” You sighed into his chest. “Should we start making a list right now?” 

17.08.2023

Ding!

You jumped awake at the sound of the notification, searching for your phone in a daze.

9.30 pm.

Groaning, you stretched your hand over your head, trying to get the tiredness out of your system. Looking around with a sigh, you wondered why no one had bothered waking you up. Even though the office was sparsely populated at this time, you had thought some of your friends would have woken you up if they caught you falling asleep.

Unless they all had left before…

The last week had been an extremely busy week, with a new project coming up and Wonwoo’s surprise birthday party planning-

Oh no. Oh no.

Hurriedly, you grabbed back your phone, switching it on to check the date and time again. It couldn’t be today, could it-

You were greeted with at least twenty missed calls from your common friends, Mingyu and Wonwoo.

“Shit, shit, shit.” You muttered, quickly searching up Mingyu’s contact and hitting the call button.

After two rings, he picked it up. 

“Hey, Y/N.” He said, sounding mildly annoyed. And Mingyu rarely got annoyed.

“Oh god, Gyu! I’m so, so sorry! I was so exhausted I fel asleep and completely lost track of time-”

“Well, you could have set an alarm since you knew today was an important day.”

“I know, I know.” You said, already packing your things up as quickly as you could. “It’s totally my fault. Where are you guys? It will take my just fifteen minutes to reach home if I run and then you can bring Wonwoo over-”

“It’s okay, Y/N.” He cut you off. “We went to a bar instead and celebrated, but he wanted to leave early. He’s at Seungcheol’s now and he said would come over to the apartment once he was okay.”

You had been running out of the building by then but you stopped, pausing to swallow at what Mingyu had just told you. “Oh god, so he- so he doesn’t want to see me? I- I should call him and apologise-”

“Oh, he told me to tell you that you shouldn’t call him or text him for a while, not until he’s over this.”

You felt your knees buckle as you covered your face with your free hand to stop the tears from falling out. You felt so torn. And so heartbroken.

You had planned all day and night for this party. You wanted it to be special for him. Wanted it to be something that he would remember for a very long time.

But now even though he would remember it for a very long time, it would be for the wrong reasons.

“Listen Y/N. It’s okay. Work happens and I know it's terrible forgetting someone’s birthday and being forgotten on your birthday but I’m pretty sure you both will be able to work it out.” Mingyu said.

“Yeah.” You sniffled, feeling like the world had just come crashing down. “I’ll let him call me.”

You heard Mingyu cut the call and stayed in the same position for some time, trying to control your emotions. You had been feeling so overwhelmed this week but you had really wanted to give Wonwoo the best birthday party you could. 

But all your efforts had gone down the drain and also your boyfriend was mad at you. 

You couldn’t imagine how Wonwoo felt and that made it worse.

This wasn’t the first time either of you were forgetting a date. Ever since the two of you started working it was like all the free time of your life had been sucked out. Which was why you both had decided to move together in the first place. So that even if it wasn’t possible to go on dates you would at least see each other and be close to one another.

But forgetting his special day was… on a whole different level.

The first rain drop hit your head at the same time you finally shed a tear, unable to hold back anymore. You sobbed heavily as it started raining, feeling the rain wash away your tears even before you felt them.

With a jolt you realised you had left your umbrella back in the office in a hurry to leave, and by that time it was too late. You were already drenched as you got up slowly, feeling the rain hit every bit of your wet skin now.

Sighing once more, you slowly trudged towards your apartment. You remembered how Wonwoo always used to pick you up whenever it rained whether or not you had an umbrella.

Maybe you deserved the rain. 

13.06.2022

“I could get used to this.” Wonwoo muttered, before edging closer to you to peep into your answer. Flushing in the face, you hastily closed the book shut before shooting your boyfriend a glare.

“What?” He asked, sounding hurt.

“Don’t- don’t look at my answers!” You said, looking down in embarrassment. “They’re all wrong probably.”

The truth was, you were terrible at gas propulsion and had asked Wonwoo to do a group study in hopes that you would be able to understand something from him at least. And so far you hadn’t even asked him to show you how to solve even one problem, feeling embarrassed that he would think you’re an idiot if you did.

Which was funny because it was almost three years that the two of you had been dating and yet you still felt embarrassed and shy around him. (You were not sure at this point if it was a good thing or a bad thing.)

“As if. You’re not that bad.” Wonwoo huffed, gently reaching out to grab the book from your hand.

“That’s right. I’m terrible.” You muttered, accepting defeat and letting him open your book. Wonwoo didn’t say anything as he stared at your almost empty page and you were sure he was snickering inside.

Instead, he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you were not getting these sums?”

“I, uh.” You looked down, feeling your cheeks heat up. Suddenly you felt his finger grip your chin and angle your head up, so that you were forced to look at him. “Look at me, baby.”

You felt your cheeks flush even more.

“Yeah, uh yeah. Sorry.” You muttered, unable to tear away your eyes from his intense yet soft ones. “I, uh, didn’t want to bother you.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m always here to help.” He said, before leaning in to press his lips against yours. Your mouth automatically parted as his breath hit yours, feeling soft lips encase yours. 

“I just don’t want to look stupid in front of you.” You muttered, your lips brushing against his. “Don’t want to burden you.”

“First of all, you’re not stupid. Just because you don’t get a subject doesn’t mean you are stupid. Second of all, you are not a burden to me. You never were and you never will be. So don’t you dare think that again” Wonwoo said, frowning at you. 

You leaned back to look at your boyfriend who was still looking at you slightly angrily, as though you had just insulted him. You felt a smile tug at the corner of your lip.

“I love you so much Wonwoo.” You whispered, taking his hand in yours. Wonwoo’s cheeks turned a dusty pink as he smiled back at you, placing another peck on your lips.

“I love you so much, too. Now come here while I explain these sums to you.” He said, sitting at the spot on the sofa right next to him.

“By the way.” You said, crawling over to him. He wrapped an arm around your back so that the two of you were cuddling, and he placed the book on your lap. “What did you mean by ‘I could get used to this’”?

“Oh I just meant that I could get used to coming over and studying with you.”

“Aren’t you romantic?” You joked, scrunching up your nose in fake disgust. “Are these study sessions replacements of our dates?”

“Hey at least we’re together and I’m not ditching you like the shitty boyfriend I was.”

“You weren’t shitty-” You began before he cut you off.

“No, I was. I could have at least informed you. You were always so understanding if I cancelled it even at the last minute even though you always kept your promises. So I’m determined to make changes now.”

“Wow.” You said, placing a kiss on his cheeks as you melted at his touch even more. He was always so warm and comforting and that always calmed you down. “I’m really beginning to enjoy my final year of college.”

“I have loved college since the very first day when I laid my eyes on you.”

Your cheeks heated up more quickly than you had wanted it to and you smacked him on the face lightly. 

Which he dodged by turning his face at the last minute, kissing your fingers instead.

“Woo!”

“But seriously.” He continued, his voice dropping lower as a serious look masked his face. “I liked you so much but I never knew how to tell you that so I was over the moon when you confessed to me.”

“And I was so sure you would not like me back ever that I was jealous of you and Sohye when I first saw her.”

“Awww.” He cooed, causing you to glare at him. “My baby was jealous?”

“Not that jealous. Don’t get yourself too ahead Mr. Handsome.”

“And wow! You think I’m handsome too?”

You laughed at his antics, wondering for the millionth time how you were so lucky to end up with him.

“It’s okay baby, I think you’re pretty too.” 

18.09.2021

“I waited for an hour!” You snapped at the phone, before inhaling sharply to calm yourself down. You did not want to get mad at Wonwoo but this time, he had taken things too far.

“It’s the third date in a row!” You hissed into the phone as you kicked the door of your shared apartment open, striding in angrily after throwing your shoes towards the shoe rack. “Do you not respect my time?”

“Baby.” You heard Wonwoo inhale too, as though trying not to raise his voice at you. As calm as Wonwoo always was, you always knew when he was angry. And with how dangerously low his voice had dipped right now, you could tell he was fuming at you too. “Try to understand. I’m not doing this on purpose-”

“But you’re not the only one with an internship, Jeon Wonwoo!” You interrupted him, finally losing it all. “I’m doing my internship and managing my outings too. I always put away my time for you Wonwoo. When you ask to go on a date, I always manage to squeeze time.”

“First of all, I rarely ask to go on a date because I know you’re busy. Second of all… well I’m sorry my internship is not as flexible as yours but do you really not care about my internship-”

“You could have called and told me!” You screamed, throwing the phone on to the bed before crashing into it, tired. tears pricked your eyes. “You could have told me Wonwoo. I wouldn’t have been mad. I would have understood. Instead you made me sit there like a fool and all because you completely forgot about me.”

“Baby?” Wonwoo sounded panicked. “Are you- are you crying?”

“No.” You sniffled, aggressively rubbing away your tears. “I’m not.” 

“Shit, sorry baby.” Wonwoo said. “I'm so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you at all. It’s just that this stupid internship just randomly throws in dates to do the work.

“I know.” You muttered, letting the tears fall smoothly now. You felt so hurt. You were mad at him for not even telling you that he wouldn’t be able to make it. The both of you were barely able to meet up with each other even though it was summer break and you had begun to miss him more than you had expected. 

But what hurt more was that Wonwoo never informed you if he was not able to make it to the date, and you felt like a burden to him. Like he was only agreeing to them in the first place because you asked to go on dates.

“My work gets over at 3 pm today.” Wonwoo said softly. You kept quiet, silently asking him to go on as you had no idea what he was trying to suggest. “So if you want I could get some takeout and drop by your apartment by four to watch a movie. How does that sound?”

You sucked in a breath harshly. “Really?” You asked, sounding a bit sceptical. “You mean it?”

“We could rewatch frozen if you want to?” 

“Really?” This time you exclaimed, almost jumping out of the bed in happiness. You felt yourself fall in love with Wonwoo all over again at his efforts to make up for the failed dates.

“Yeah baby. I promise I’ll be there.” He said.

“Well, you even promised that you would come today-”

“Hush. No, I won't repeat that ever again. I’ll never make a promise that I can’t keep from now on. Ever.”

“Promise?” You giggled, already stepping into the shower freshen up.

“Promise.” He said. 

23.11.2020

“So your parents aren’t home?” Wonwoo asked as you carefully balanced the bowl of popcorn in one hand and nachos in the other, eyebrows scrunched in confusion before placing them on the tea table in front of him. Then, sitting down beside him on the sofa you nodded to his question. “Correct. So no funny business, okay? They lectured me for an hour about trust and responsibility before leaving.”

“No funny business, huh?” He muttered, eyes flicking over you lazily, causing your cheeks to heat up like it did every time he did that. He tilted his head and smirked at you, before suddenly grabbing you by your waist and jerking you towards him. You let out a yelp as your back hit his chest but before you could wiggle out of this position, he tightened his grip on you.

“I wonder what funny business they could be talking about. “ He whispered, thumb gently rubbing small circles over your stomach, the thin fabric of your t-shirt letting his warmth seep into your skin. 

“You know what they mean.” You muttered, cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stared at his arm wrapped around your body. You always loved his arms for some reason. Loved the way his muscles flexed every time he cuddled a kitten, loved the way his veins slightly popped out when he held your hands in his. 

“Oh no. I couldn’t possibly know what they mean, right?” 

“Wonwoo.” You groaned, leaning back a little so that your head was resting against his shoulder. He chuckled in response, pressing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Sorry it’s just…you’re so adorable when you’re so flustered.”

“Says you when you were the one who looked scandalous after Mingyu kissed his girlfriend.”

“That’s because he is only allowed to kiss me.”

You turned back to give him a dry look, but all you got from him was a laugh (much to your delight though). 

“I hate you so much.” You said before looking away, still leaning back so you were sitting comfortably against his chest.

“And I love you so much.” He muttered, his deep voice rumbling behind you. A second passed before his words finally settled in, causing the two of you to freeze. You tensed up in his arms and felt him too still behind you. 

I love you so much. 

Love. He loved you.

And it was like Wonwoo’s words had broken down the dam in your heart because as the river came down crashing, you felt a surge of emotions flow through you, hitting you with a realisation.

You were in love.

You were in love with Jeon Wonwoo. 

Slowly, you turned back to look at him, blinking at him a little as he too stared back at you with a shocked expression.

“I’m- I’m-” He stammered, unable to meet your eyes anymore. You could hear your heart hammering in your ears as you asked softly. “Wonwoo? Did you mean that?”

Slowly, he looked back up at your face, cheeks flushed before giving you a small nod. “Yeah.” he muttered. “I love you.”

You felt your mouth fall open slightly, as you felt your heart skip a beat. “Oh, Woo.” You whispered, gently cupping his face. “I love you too. I love you so much.”

Wonwoo blinked at you for a few seconds before breaking into a shy smile. You too felt your cheeks heat up again, before looking away, unable to maintain eye contact anymore. Your hand slipped off his cheek onto your lap but he immediately reached out to grab it in his, bringing it closer to him so that it was resting on his lap. 

Silence engulfed the two of you like many other times and like all them, it wasn’t uncomfortable. You could still feel your heart hammering loudly at your chest as you tried not squeezing Wonwoo’s hand too tightly out of the little sparks of excitement you were feeling.

After some time, you heard Wonwoo speak. “Well…that was sudden.”

“Yeah.” You giggled, unable to contain yourself anymore. “You would think we just started dating. Who would think it's been almost a year?”

“It doesn’t feel like a year. And I love the fact I still get butterflies in my stomach when I look at you or even think of you.” He whispered. 

You wondered if couples who were ‘comfortable’ with each other still felt this shy still but you pushed away that thought from your head. People still felt butterflies years into their marriage right? Which meant they were still nervous even after all these years.

“Me too.” You whispered back, before snuggling into his body. Wonwoo immediately wrapped his arms around you and you melted into his touch, finally turning your concentration back to the movie.

03.05.2020

“Should we leave?” Wonwoo asked, sliding his fingers into yours as he came and sat down on the empty chair beside you. You tore your attention away from what you were talking with Sohye and her small group of friends towards your new boyfriend.

The party was still going on but as soon as your eyes landed on him everything, including the dazzling lights seemed to dim away despite having spent the majority of the evening with him.

His eyes seemed to be shining behind the glasses as his lips curled into those soft smiles that always had your heart racing at a thousand kilometres per hour. You stared back at him as his lips moved slowly, nearly melting in his beautiful brown eyes, your heart squeezing painfully.

“Earth to Y/N?” Sohye’s voice brought you back to the present, causing you to jerk as you looked at her in surprise just as she let out a laugh. You looked around the group in embarrassment as the other girls too giggled, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

“Oh god Sohye.” Dahyeon giggled, “Why did you stop the love birds?”

“Shut up.” You muttered, breaking eye contact to glare at the girls. You heard Wonwoo chuckle beside you, causing your cheeks to heat up more as you felt his voice rumble in your chest too. 

“We’ll be bidding our goodbyes then.” The chair beside you scraped as Wonwoo got up, causing you to look up at him. He extended his hand to you and you lightly placed your hand over it, not expecting him to grip it tightly and pull you up. You managed to mask your look of surprise with a sudden laughter, waving goodbyes to everyone as you allowed Wonwoo to pull you through the crowd.

Even though it was hot at the party, especially with your heavy makeup and large earrings that you chose to wear, you could still feel the heat of Wonwoo’s palms searing through your skin. You were very conscious of his soft skin against yours, but you decided to ignore it for now as you stumbled through the crowd and finally made your way out.

The cold wind hit you almost immediately and you found yourself gasping in relief, not realising just how suffocating the house had been. It wasn’t like you weren’t enjoying yourself, but too much social interaction had drained out your battery completely.

“Are you okay?” You heard Wonwoo ask and you nodded, unable to meet his eyes for some reason. “Really?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You muttered, turning to face him but looked over his shoulder instead. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing your wrist that caused you to finally look at him. “Look at me.”

“I am.” You squeaked, and then cleared your throat and spoke normally again, “I am.”

Wonwoo smiled softly at you, causing your knees to go wobbly again. “Now you are. What’s wrong? Did Sohye make you feel uncomfortable? Did one of the girls say something-

“What? Oh no, Woo!” You cut him off in surprise. “No no no. Sohye was amazing! And so were the other girls.”

You hadn’t realised how tense Wonwoo was until right now, as he relaxed his shoulders and let out a breath.

“Thank god. I was worried for a second. Then what’s bothering you?”

You bit your lips, unsure how to go about it. “Well, I kind of hoped- kind of thought we would get to hang out with each other more. It’s the first time we saw each other face to face after I… after we confessed. So yeah, I had hoped to spend more time with you.

“Oh.” Wonwoo looked at you apologetically. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise- I didn’t think- Oh shit I’m so sorry. I was excited to see you but I thought you wouldn’t want to see me or would want to hang out with the girls.”

You cocked your head to the side in confusion. “Why would I not want to see you?”

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, unable to meet your eyes now. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I was thinking.

“It's okay.” You said, suddenly feeling slightly uncomfortable. You didn’t want to make things awkward at the very beginning of your relationship itself so you decided to let the topic go instead. Besides, Wonwoo was on the quieter side. Maybe he didn’t know how to communicate it with you.

Just as you were about to step out of your house the first droplet of water hit your shoes, and Wonwoo immediately pulled you back into the veranda where the two of you had been standing. Within two seconds it started pouring, getting you both stuck there.

“Do you want to go in?” You asked Wonwoo, wondering if you both should take shelter back in the house. The rain wasn’t falling on either of you but you wondered if he would rather use this time to talk to his friends than you.

“Are you cold?”

“Um, no.”

“Then I’m okay here. I didn’t spend time with my beautiful girlfriend and now she’s rightfully upset with me.”

Heat rushed up your cheek and you playfully hit his shoulder. “Don’t- don’t throw around that word just like that!”

He grinned at you, stepping closer so that you could feel his body heat radiate off his skin and causing goosebumps to form on your arms due to the cold. “What words?”

You groaned, rolling your eyes at him. “You’ll be the end of me Jeon Wonwoo. Please don’t make me flustered.”

“Aw, but you look so cute doing that!” He pointed out, his words making your stomach jump again. You glared at him.

“You did it again!”

“I’ll do it a thousand times more if it means getting to see you this way.” 

You turned her head away from him so that he couldn’t see you flushing like that when you felt his knuckles brush against yours. You took this opportunity to wrap your hand around his. His palms were still warm and comforting and it made you realise just how cold you were because of the rain. 

He gave your hand a squeeze which caused you to look at him again. Wonwoo smiled at you, turning his head a little to the side as he gazed at you softly. 

“Hi.” He whispered.

“Hi.” You giggled back.

“You look beautiful today. Did I tell you that before?”

“Only seven times before right now.” You laughed.

“Right. That’s because you look gorgeous everyday-”

You were not sure from where the sudden urge or courage came, but hearing him compliment you for the millionth time that day broke something in you and you found yourself leaning up to smash your lips against his. As soon as his lips touched yours you felt sparks go off in your heart, causing you to close your eyes shut and enjoy the tingling sensation you felt all over your body.

But two seconds later, you realised what you were doing and with a gasp you jerked back.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry-”

Your sentence was cut off as Wonwoo captured your mouth in his, enveloping your lips in warmth. Your eyes fluttered close when you felt an arm go around your waist and you clutched his shoulder to steady yourself. 

Your stomach kept somersaulting every time Wonwoo moved against your lips, every single second feeling electrifying. Slowly, you cupped his warm cheeks with your hands, kissing him back with everything you had.

Because you felt like you were in heaven. His searing mouth on yours felt like heaven. Every bit of skin his other hand touched left a shock at its wake and you felt like you were going to combust there and there.

After what felt like an eternity and you were nearly out of breath, you broke apart, gasping for breath. Your cheeks were on fire and you could still feel his breath on your lashes, making you unable to look at him.

“Y/N.” Wonwoo whispered, his voice sounding a bit hoarse.

Slowly, you looked up to meet his eyes. Your knees nearly went weak and you were glad he was holding on to you as soon as your eyes met his soft, dark ones. They were filled with so much emotion that you felt your heart would burst.

He leaned in until your foreheads were touching, and you felt yourself smile at the gesture.

“Hi.” He whispered, his lips brushing against yours slightly.

“Hi.” You whispered back.

27.07.2019

“I ordered your favourite cake.” 

Wonwoo greeted you with a smile as you practically ran into the cafe, breathing very hard as you tried to catch your breath. You smiled back weakly at him before sitting down on the chair opposite to him, fanning yourself lightly, praying that you weren’t sweating too badly.

“Thank you.” You whispered in between breaths and he just smiled more widely at you, the familiar spark shooting up your stomach. “I’m so, so sorry that I’m late. I completely miscalculated how much time it would take me to reach here and the traffic was so bad that-”

“Hey.” He whispered, reaching forward to hold your hand in his. He gave it a gentle squeeze that shut you up completely, looking down at both of your intertwined hands. “Don’t stress about it. I just saw that your favourite flavour was there but it looked like a lot of people were buying it so I wanted to get it before it went out of stock. I’m not upset that you are late. Traffic can be really stressful.”

You stared at him for a second, heart swelling at his sweet gesture before you remembered to respond. “Still, thanks a lot. I just feel bad because I asked us to meet here and then I was super late.”

“Well, in that case.” Wonwoo leaned back and folded his arms, his muscles flexing underneath the cardigan he had worn, easily showing how well built he was. Oh to have those arms wrapped around you- Not now Y/N! “You can let me treat you this time.”

“What? No way! I invited you over!” You complained, getting up to pick you both of your orders before he could. Wonwoo laughed at the way you darted towards the counter with your phone already in your hand, as though afraid that he might pay instead. The sound of his laughter was so endearing that you felt your cheeks heat up, glad that your back was facing him now.

His laughter. You loved hearing him laugh. You loved being able to make him laugh. And you wanted to be one of the reasons he smiled and laughed. 

“Here.” You said, placing his cake and drink in front of him before sitting back on your seat, sipping on your drink nervously as you mulled the question you’ve been dying to ask in your head.

“What's wrong?” Wonwoo asked and you said, “Nothing.” a bit too quickly. 

“Hmmm. What’s wrong? You know you can talk to me about anything right?” He said, reaching out for your hand once again. The look of concern on his face was enough to melt you into a puddle but for the sake of your dignity, you held on, pretending that him rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb was not doing things to you.

“Yeah. I know.” But how can I talk to you about you?

“It’s just that…” You began, trying to rephrase the question that was the main reason you had asked to see him. “I wanted to ask- I wanted to know if you- if you want to go out with-”

“Wonwoo?” A voice cut you off from behind and you turned to see who it was, eyes meeting with a girl of your age beaming at the two of you- no, at him, brightly. 

You blinked in surprise as you felt the small courage you had managed to build to ask him out break, turning back to look at Wonwoo as his smile widened as recognition dawned on his face.

“Sohye?” Wonwoo asked, standing up to greet her. You too stood up and that’s when she finally noticed you, smiling at you equally gracefully. As you beamed back at her, you felt something move lightly against your lips and with horror you realised you had some cream stuck on to it. 

“Hi.” Sohye greeted you sweetly, as you waved a hi at her, the napkins that you had hurriedly grabbed still in your hand. “I’m Sohye.”

“She’s my neighbour.” Wonwoo explained, still smiling sweetly at her.

Had he ever smiled at you like that?

You winced at your own thoughts when you realised how pathetic you sounded, letting the green eyed monster take control of your thoughts.

“And this is Y/N.” Wonwoo said, pointing at you.

“Ah, so you’re the Y/N?” She asked, eyes widening in amusement as she looked between you and Wonwoo. You laughed at her statement politely, unsure about what she was talking about. What was that supposed to mean? Maybe you shouldn’t have read too much into your friendship and assumed that he might like you in a more than a friend way. Maybe you-

Your eyes fell onto the tote bag she was carrying and you felt your stomach drop. 

Oh.

They were in the same technical club. So she wasn’t just his neighbour, then? This meant that they were really, really close friends. And you knew how hard it was to get into that club so she must have been really brilliant. 

So Sohye was Wonwoo’s pretty and smart neighbour, friend and now even possibly his love interest? Because the way he was looking at her with those soft, smiley eyes, there was no way he saw her as a friend only.

There was no way you stood a chance. 

What were you even thinking? There was no way you ever stood with someone like Wonwoo. Someone as sweet, as nice, as funny (in his own ways, though Seungkwan would disagree), as handsome, as beautiful, as caring and as kind as him. 

“He talks about you all the time.” She added, nudging his chest lightly and your ears perked up. What?

“Hey! You promised!” He gasped, crossing his arms over his chest in faux betrayal. 

Sohye rolled her eyes at him. “Promised what?”

“You know…” He began, before locking eyes with her. The two of them seemed to silently converse about something before she shrugged, patting him gently as though she understood what he was implying at.

Great, now you were feeling like a complete idiot. Apparently he talked about you but one could talk various things about someone all the time, including their bad qualities. So what was it that Wonwoo talked about you to Sohye all the time?

“Fine, fine. I’m sorry. I need to leave now but don’t forget about this Saturday’s party Wonwoo.” At this, he let out a groan and flopped onto his seat, earning a giggle from you because you had never seen him this fed up about something. You saw the corner of his lips quirk up as his eyes flicked to yours, causing your cheeks to flush up like they usually did whenever he looked at you like that. Then turning to you, she winked, before adding. “Oh, you’re invited too. Just that you need to have a date. So make sure you ask someone out, okay? Sometimes, men are just so dense that you need to be the one who…ah, takes the initiative for everything.”

You blinked at her, trying to process what she had just said. Did she mean Wonwoo. No way right? But then-

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Wonwoo asked as he watched Sohye walk out of the door before turning to look back at you. She gave you a thumbs up and everything sunk in finally. “She’s really-”

“Do you want to go out with me?” You blurted out, with a sudden surge of confidence given by Sohye, and unable to contain the question anymore. Wonwoo froze, staring at you with his mouth open, not even blinking as though he was completely dumbfounded by your question.

Immediately you felt dread fill the pit of your stomach as you almost heard your heart shatter, an ugly, nauseating pain beginning to clutch your throat and chest. Wonwoo blinked at you, opened his mouth once and closed it, and you felt tears stinging at the corner of your eyes. 

It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay! Don’t just cry, okay? 

Your nails dug into your skin, leaving crescent moons on it as you gave him a weak smile, trying your very best not to burst into tears because of how dejected and hurt you felt right now. Why did you listen to Sohye, a complete stranger? 

“Ignore me.” You said, your voice coming out more choked than you had expected it to. You could actually feel yourself choking, the pain almost unbearable and you quickly reached forward to swallow down your drink in an attempt to calm yourself down. 

“Wait!” Wonwoo yelped, jerking forward to grab your hand so suddenly that you almost flinched back in surprise. You looked at him in bewilderment, and he stared back at you, as though equally surprised by his actions.

Both of your eyes flicked to your hands, and then back to each other, before Wonwoo looked away first, his cheeks completely flushed. “Careful.” He muttered, gently taking the mug out of your hand. “It’s hot. You’ll burn yourself if you drink it.”

“Oh.” Was all you could say. He still wasn’t meeting your eyes and you could feel the urge to cry slowly ebbing away. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you said, “Uhm, I’m sorry. The question must have thrown you-”

“I would love to go out with you.”

This time, you froze, blinking at Wonwoo, who was finally looking at you, trying to process what he had just said.

“What?” You asked, and he flushed even more, looking away once again. But this time, he turned to face you almost immediately, a look of determination on his face. “Yeah. I’ll go out with you.”

You felt the tears sting your eyes once again but Wonwoo was faster this time. He practically jumped out of his seat and dragged his chair right next to yours, gently grasping both of your hands in his. 

“Don’t cry, Y/N. It really hurts me when you cry. Especially if it’s because of me.” He whispered softly, causing you to break down more instead.

“I’m not- I’m actually- Oh my god.” Was all you could say before he pulled you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as you almost melted into his touch. You buried your face into the crook of his neck and tried to control your sniffling, clutching his sweater with both of your hands as though he might disappear if you let go.

“I won’t let you go.” He whispered, gently rubbing circles on your back. “I promise.” 

14.03.3019

“I really like autumn, you know.” Wonwoo muttered and you looked up, feeling your breath being taken away for the millionth time that day. The cold wind blowing had ruffled his hair slightly but he looked really cute as he stared at the orange foliage overhead, with a small smile on his face. 

“Is that so?” You asked, and he turned back to look at you, giving you a small nod. Smirking at him, you asked again, “Why? Is it because it’s cold and you can have an excuse to stay inside and play games the whole day?”

His eyes crinkled at the corners as his smile widened, chuckling lightly at your joke. “Maybe?” 

You rolled your eyes at him before giving him a light push. “You could have answered it with something more productive like finishing your assignments, you know.”

“Yeah, or like texting you.”

The statement caught you so off guard that you nearly tripped on your own feet, and to make the situation worse, Wonwoo grabbed your arm to stop you from stumbling. 

“Hey, be careful.” He said, slight concern lacing his voice. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You muttered, unable to meet his eyes as you cursed yourself for being clumsy enough to trip on your own feet. You could feel your cheeks burning from his gaze and you wondered for a second why you were still so awkward and shy around him, despite being friends with him for almost three months.

If you could call your relationship with him as friends, that is.

You had hoped that your crush on him would go away after hanging out with him for a while (he had to have a flaw in him, right?) but if anything it grew more and more with passing time. Wonwoo made it worse by his completely sweet demeanour and mannerism towards you, reducing you to shambles each and every time. No matter how much you tried to compress the fluttering of your heart or the flushing of your cheeks, Wonwoo had to ruin everything by doing something that completely floored you always.

And that was the worst part of it. You had never thought you would like someone as quiet as him, always having liked outgoing guys with good humour. But there was something about Wonwoo’s introvertedness that was really comforting to you. It wasn’t like he always sat silent when next to you, it was just that he knew exactly what to say and when. He was a great listener and always listened to you with such rapt attention that sometimes it even surprised you.

It made you feel…important. Wanted. Loved.

Though most of the time it was you who had to initiate the conversation, you didn’t mind because Wonwoo would always continue with it, never leaving you hanging or ignoring it. 

“Hey.” You heard Wonwoo call you softly, and you finally looked up at him. He took a step close so that your shoulders were brushing, feeling his body warmth seep into you through your touching arms. You felt an urge to throw yourself into his arms but you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. “Are you actually okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” 

“Don’t say that.” Wonwoo was frowning at you, and you panicked, wondering if you had said the wrong thing. “How can I not worry about you? You’re so clumsy. Seriously, what would you do without me?”

Gulping slowly to calm down your racing heart, you felt your cheeks automatically pull into a smile. “Fall onto my face and embarrass myself?”

Wonwoo snorted at your sentence, wrapping an arm around your waist as he began walking again. “Not a chance under my watch. You aren’t Mingyu.”

“Poor Gyu.” You whispered, looking down so he wouldn’t see how much your eyes were gleaming. 

“Poor me, you mean. I’ve given up trying to save his ass every time he trips.”

You laughed as he went on complaining about his best friend, and all the embarrassment that you had been feeling from before was gone as you relaxed into his touch. You loved being with Wonwoo. You really loved spending time with him. Even though there were still traces of awkwardness between the two of you (from your side more than his), you hoped that one day all of that would be gone and he would see you the same way you looked at him.

And then one day, you would finally ask him out. One day. 

05.12.2018

The second time you met Wonwoo, or rather were with Wonwoo, was during a break period, when all your classmates had left the classroom for various purposes but you had decided to stay back and study. 

At first, you didn’t realise he was there too because you thought everyone had left. When you turned back to pull out a notebook from your bag, both of your eyes met from across the classroom and you found yourself immediately turning away, wincing a second later at your action.

Slowly, you turned back and to your relief, he was still looking at you. Trying to not look as flustered as you felt, you gave him a small wave, the quiet whisper of a ‘hi’ almost dying in your throat. 

Wonwoo smiled back at you and waved back, before getting up and walking towards your table.

Oh no. Oh no. Act normal. Act normal.

“Hey.” He said, his deep voice causing your stomach to drop a little. “Uh, did you do the maths homework? The one he gave in the last class?”

“Uhm, maths? You mean, uh, this one?” You asked, pointing at the half done sum in front of you. Crap, what if he wants my help? Why didn’t I do this before at home? Why didn't I think of studying this part beforehand?

“Oh, even you didn’t get it?” He asked, sitting himself down beside you. You could get a hint of his cologne and you swallowed hard, hoping your cheeks weren’t as flushed as you thought it was. “Do you want to solve it together? I think we can get it if we try together.”

“Yeah sure!” You said, a bit too enthusiastically. “I mean, yeah, of course. Let’s do it together.”

The two of you then began to work on the problem, but to your disappointment, you both barely talked. You were able to solve the problem on your own within the second try, and so was Wonwoo because so far the only other thing he had said was “You got it? So did I.”

The classroom once again lapped into silence and you could feel your nerves becoming jittery, because you wanted to say something to him, wanted to strike a conversation with him but you just couldn’t. What if what you said sounded so dumb that he decided not to talk to you ever again? 

Also Wonwoo looked like he had no problem with the quiet atmosphere, though you were feeling more and more awkward with each passing second, once again hyper aware of your actions as you sat next to him.

“So, uh,” You began after clearing your throat, so that you wouldn’t startle him. “Do you have any hobbies?” 

Wonwoo looked up at you from his notebook, blinking at you as though trying to process your question a bit. How does one look this cute just by blinking?

“Yeah, I like gaming.” He said, smiling at you. If he kept smiling at you like that any longer, you were sure you would have difficulty meeting his eyes next. 

“Gaming? That’s cool.” You said with a bigger smile. Internally though, you were screaming. You had next to no idea about gaming, what games were played on laptops or even the types of games out there. So you said the most intelligent (and probably the stupidest) thing you could come up with. “I play mobile games. Sometimes.”

At this, Wonwoo chuckled, a deep sound that was enough to cause your heart to flutter. “Mobile games? That’s cute.”

“Uh, thank you.” You muttered, averting your eyes back to your notebook. “What- What about you? What games do you play?”

“I play a lot of games to be honest. I’ve played Visage, Genshin Impact, League of Legends…yeah I’ve played a lot to be honest.” He said, going back to solving his problems too. 

“Oh, I see…” You said, not even sure what these games were about but you still pretended that you had at least some idea about what he was saying. 

Once again the two of you relapsed into silence, and you were finding it difficult to begin any conversation. It wasn’t that Wonwoo was making things difficult. You had noticed that he was a fairly quiet guy so you supposed he had no problem with this and was in fact comfortable with the silence between the two of you.

Letting out a sigh, you reached out for your water bottle, wanting to calm yourself down from the way Wonwoo was making you feel. 

You must have inhaled while you were drinking because all of a sudden you felt water hit your windpipe, blocking your air passage immediately. You made a choking sound as you spluttered, trying to cough out the water from your windpipe. 

“Y/N!” You heard Wonwoo call your name but it sounded so far away. Your mind was in a state of frenzy as you realised that you couldn’t breathe, you just couldn’t breathe and the water wasn’t coming out-

“Cough it out.” You felt an arm wrap around your front as Wonwoo thumped your back hard, making you cough harder. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Just cough it out.”

You coughed once more and took in a shuddering breath, causing you to cough again as your senses finally returned to you slowly. You were shivering, and your chest hurt as small coughs kept bubbling up in an attempt to regain your normal breath. 

“It’s okay. Just breathe slowly. I’ve got you. Breath, okay?” Wonwoo muttered, rubbing soft circles on your back. Still shivering in his arms, you looked up to see his face. His face was just inches apart and even through your teary eyes, you could see how handsome he was.

Then, you realised with horror how pathetic you must be looking. Your eyes were brimming with tears and you could feel the saliva all over your chin. And to make matters worse, you could feel that your nose had begun to run too. 

“Uh,” you started, slowly pushing yourself away from Wonwoo’s grasp as you hastily searched for a tissue or napkin. 

“Wait here.” Wonwoo said, before running back to his bench and then coming back to you, offering you some tissues he had got. “Here.”

“Thank you.” You muttered, feeling embarrassed as you slowly wiped away the spit on your face. “Thank you for…helping me.”

“Are you feeling okay?” Wonwoo asked, walking over to stand in front of you. You looked down at your lap and nodded, unable to look at him anymore. Of all the times you had to choke on your drink, it had to be in front of him.

“Hey, look at me.” You heard him whisper. You looked up just as he leaned down so that he was at your level now. You felt your breath catch in your throat as he looked at you, an expression of concern on his face. 

“Are you actually feeling okay? Because you are still shivering.” Looking down, you saw your hands clenching the tissue tightly. True to his words, you were still shivering and you took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself down.

“I’m okay. I’ll be okay. I just- I was just caught off guard that’s all.” 

Wonwoo glanced at the clock on the classroom wall before reaching down and picking up your bag. You looked up at him in surprise as he walked over to get his bag, and then stood in front of the class door. 

“What are you- Where are you going?” You asked, standing up. 

Wonwoo looked at you in surprise. “Don’t you want to have lunch? It’s lunch time.”

“Yeah…but my bag? You don’t have to-”

“I don’t.” He said, smiling at you. “I want to.”

You felt your heart explode as you fought back the urge to smile, almost jumping from your bench to catch up with him. Maybe, maybe accidentally choking on your drink wasn’t a bad thing after all.

01.10.2018

“Are we still in the same seminar hall?” You asked, peeping into your friend’s (if she could be called that considering the fact you met her only an hour ago) phone as she searched the timetable up. 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I guess. I think we should just walk in and see to be honest. If not, we can ask around.” Yubin said, closing her phone and slipping it into her jeans pocket, before taking a deep breath and pushing open the seminar hall doors. 

The hall was almost crowded and you were glad that you were behind Yubin, so all you had to do was follow her as she tried finding two empty seats. 

Finally, you both sat down on the three empty seats at the end of the third row, glad that you got decent enough seats, if not good, because of how late you both were (it had to be your unfortunate luck that the seminar hall was at one end of the campus and the canteen was at another end). Removing your bag, you lifted it to place it on the empty seat next to you because you were sure no one would take a single empty seat when you heard someone ask, “Is this seat taken?”

You looked up to see who it was and immediately felt the air almost knock out of your lungs. Your cheeks heated up as you blinked at the student standing in front of you, all coherent words thrown out of your head because he was just so, so handsome. 

He looked so good with his square framed glasses, unbuttoned chequered shirt over a casual t-shirt and dark blue jeans. In fact, he looked like any other of the countless averagely dressed college students you had seen on campus so far and yet, he looked so attractive that you were having a hard time formulating a simple sentence. 

“Uh,” You began, staring at him as you tried to rack your brains for an appropriate response. What was the question?

“Nope!” Yubin said, reaching out to grab your bag and place it on your lap. “No one’s sitting here so you can sit if you want to!”

He gave you (the two of you actually but you hoped it was just you) a small smile before sitting down and you slowly turned towards your now grinning friend, frowning slightly as you just tried to process what had just happened.

He was sitting next to you. He was sitting next to you. The guy, who caught your eyes within a few milliseconds of your encounter was actually sitting next to you. 

‘You think he is cute?’ Yubin mouthed to you, to which you could only exhale and look back at the presentation that was about to start in front of you, unable to think clearly still. 

Cute was an understatement for the guy next to you. He was handsome. Ethereal. Beautiful. Someone who made your heart stutter just by looking at them and made you hyper aware of your each and every action, just like now as you carefully slid out your notebook from your bag.

Your cheeks felt like they were still on fire, and you tried to act nonchalant as you cleared your throat and flipped through the pages, trying to find an empty page when your pen fell from your hand.

Brilliant.

Just brilliant. You mentally cursed yourself as you bit your lips. bending down to pick it up but he was much faster than you, the pen already in his hand as he offered it to you. 

“Uh, thank you.” You mumbled, trying to give him a small smile but of course your flushed cheeks had to act up at this moment itself and you were pretty sure you ended up giving him a lopsided one instead.

He just nodded back at you, before turning his attention back to the presentation and so did you, but it was like you could still feel his gaze on you. 

The rest of the session passed in a blur, as you tried your level best to concentrate on what was being explained but it was just so hard doing that when each second seemed to drag on for hours and you were painfully aware of what he was doing and how embarrassing you were acting. 

Finally, after what felt like years, the students started getting up and leaving the auditorium. Your mind was in a whirlwind as he too started packing up his things. Now’s the time, Y/N. It’s now or never. Just ask him-

“I didn’t catch your name!” You squeaked just as he got up, causing him to pause and look at you confused. You immediately cringed at your voice, sinking into your seat a little before clearing your throat and repeating your sentence. “Your name? I didn’t catch it.”

“Oh.” He said, his face softening a little as he pushed his specs back up his nose. Okay, now that was hot. “It’s Wonwoo. Jeon Wonwoo. And you are?”

“Wonwoo…” You muttered, the name rolling off your tongue before you realised he had asked yours. “Oh! Uh, I’m Y/N. L/N Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N. I hope we can be friends.” Wonwoo smiled at you, almost causing you to forget your second question. 

“Yeah! Yeah, of course! Also, uh, can I have your number? Because, you know, uh-” You stuttered but luckily Wonwoo cut you off.

“Sure.” He said, extending out his hand. As quickly as you could (without dropping anything or appearing clumsy) you handed him your phone and he took it, typing out his number. Oh wow, he has really pretty hands. 

“Here.” He said, handing it over to you. “Give me a missed call okay? So that I can save your number too.”

“Yeah…yeah I will.” You said, giving him another smile. He gave you a small goodbye before walking away, and you continued staring at him until he split out of the door. Even then you were just standing, frozen at your place as you tried processing what had just happened, until Yubin gave you a nudge. 

“Are we going to go for lunch or are you gonna keep dreaming about lover boy?” She joked, causing you to snap out of your reverie. 

“What? He’s not- It’s nothing like that. He’s just cute.” You said defensively, picking up your bag as you followed her out. 

“He’s just cute.” Yubin said, mimicking you and you hissed at her. “Shut up! Someone might hear you!”

“Yeah, and you were definitely not drooling over him.”

“I was not drooling over him!” You gasped.

“Okay sure. Just the next time you both sit together, I’ll make sure I’m not next to you. Actually I’ll make sure no one is next to you both so that you can have your alone time together.”

“Yeah,” You muttered, as you saw Wonwoo walk in front of the two of you, laughing and talking with two other boys. You felt your heart give an odd squeeze when he turned back and your eyes met, smiling at you warmly. “I wonder if it will ever be just us, again.” 

A/N: Please do tell me what you think about this story!! I worked really hard on it and I would love to know everyone’s thoughts on it~ Comments and reblogs are appreciated!

© 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘𝐎𝐌 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

[tadpolesonalgae]

Can’t Bring Myself To Hate You

Azriel x Third-oldest-archeron-sibling!reader

a/n: I was in the mood for a writing a heated argument that turns into an even hotter make-out session, but then it got slightly depressing so…

warning: slight angst but not much because I can’t take that emotionally :’)

word count: 3,888

-Part 2[*]-

“How was she today?”

You fight the urge to clench your jaw. The harsh snapping of your book is the limit to how far you’ll allow the leash on your anger to slip. Jealousy? Frustration? Whatever complicated nonsense he’s gotten you tangled up in.

“No hello? What about a how are you today?” You ask tersely. So much for keeping your emotions on a tight leash. His brow narrows a little—you don’t usually bubble over when he asks how your older sister is doing. “You weren’t practically bed-ridden for months,” he replies slowly, gauging your response carefully.

Instantly, guilt weighs in the pit of your stomach, and you look away quickly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” you soothe hastily. Gods, why did you say that to him? You’re trying to gain his favour, not make him think you’re an ungrateful, self-absorbed sister. “She was fine. We did some baking—well, Elain did some baking, I was reading something. It’s a new book, actually! Because I finished the last one, which was actually pretty good, but this one I think is set in the last war and…” you trail off when you notice the patient smile he’s giving you.

Right. He’s not interested in what book you’re reading, or how you spent the day. He’s not interested in you full stop. He’s interested in Elain. You fight the way disappointment wants to twist the edges of your mouth, instead plastering on a smile that you hope he reads as oops, look at me! There I go again, haha.

“Well,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat, “she made some cupcakes—I think they were vanilla, and she put something that looked like jam inside. Really good. I’m sure she’d be happy for you to try one—if you ask,” you smile, adding in the details he wants to hear. For the Spymaster, he’s surprisingly open about his interest in Elain to you. But maybe that’s because you’re always so willing to answer any question you can for him.

“I’m glad,” he says, something glimmering in his hazel eyes. “And there were no silent spots? No abrupt changes?” You return your attention to the book in your hands, fingers running over the bound edges, “she was fine all the way. You never would have guessed everything she’s been through.” He hums, pleased with her progress. It’s a sound of contentment, from the back of his throat that you’re certain rumbles throughout his chest. It’s an effort to keep your attention on the book.

It’s been more than two years since the three of you were tossed into the Cauldron. Feyre and Rhysand are happy, Nesta’s made progress on healing herself and is now alarming in love with Cassian, Elain’s taking large steps in a good direction, too. You remember vividly the time when she would hardly utter a word for days, hardly shift her gaze from a strange spot in the middle-distance, how worried she made you and Nesta. And Feyre, obviously, but things were a little…strange at the time. They always had been.

You spent the first few months struggling to hold a meal down, often being wracked with spasms of anxiety and flushes of hot and cold. There was a time you would black out if you stood up too fast, and now you can hold down three meals a day without needing to run to the nearest latrine provided you don’t eat too quickly. You feel like yourself again, but fresher. You know you aren’t the same as you were, though. Not after the Cauldron, but you had no choice but to adapt. With eternity ahead of you, you couldn’t stand the thought of spending it weakened and frail—hardly capable of standing without feeling dizzy.

Maybe you are a little jealous that Elain’s getting all the attention. She’d always been the centre of Nesta’s attention, and while you were on fairly good terms with your oldest sister throughout your childhood, you were no competition for her sharp mind and sharper tongue. Feyre was the wild one, Elain the pretty one, Nesta the cunning one—then there was you.

What’s your place in your dysfunctional family?

“It’s good she seems to be steadily improving,” Azriel says, breaking you from your inner thoughts. You nod dutifully, agreeing with him. “She smiled for most of it, too,” you add, remembering how pleased she’d been when they came out how she wanted—after numerous attempts. “Though she was covered in flour—her hair was practically white!” You laugh fondly, covering your mouth with your hand.

A faint smile appears on his lips and, for just a moment, you let yourself pretend he’s smiling at the sound of your laugh.

But that’s all you have to report back to him, and even if you’ve pleased him, he’ll be finding an excuse to slip off now that he knows she’s been fine. You’ll admit, it’s difficult to remember she’s your sister when he so clearly would choose her over you. It’s not even a competition.

So you swallow your nerves, tuck your hands behind your back and peer up at him. “Hey, you read right?” You ask, keeping a pleasant smile on your lips—lest he think you’re too eager. He blinks out of whatever thought he was having, clearing his gaze as he looks down at you, then nods. “I’ve been known to pick up a book from time to time,” he answers. He’s in a good mood, it seems.

“Do you have a favourite?” You ask, tipping your head at a slight angle, appearing to look at the books stacked on the shelves. “I feel like I’ve been rereading the same story over and over again and want to try something else.”

“You’re asking me to pick just one?” He replies, quirking his brow. The smile that comes to your mouth isn’t as fake, or as controlled as you would like—it stretches your lips thin, showing the gaps either side of the top row of your teeth.

“Okay, give me a couple to have a nose at. So if one bores me to tears, I can pick up another,” you laugh gently, pulling the book tight to your chest, worried you’re showing too much. Does he know how your days often centre around whether he’ll seek you out? The too-short conversations that often revolve around your sister?

“Does Elain read?” He asks, tentatively, and it’s like a stone to your cheek. You clutch the book tighter to your chest, taking in a slow, quiet breath. “I can ask her? Subtly, of course,” you force a smile, fingers digging into the spine of the book. He shakes his head, “I’ll do it. I’d like to see how she’s doing for myself.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, “to be fair, she might be sick of them for how long she was in here last year. They might be an eyesore by now,” you laugh softly. But instead he frowns disapprovingly, like you shouldn’t be making jokes at her expense. And suddenly that urge appears, the urge to confront him about his behaviour—why he never talks to you for you.

“Azriel…?” You say, the smile slipping from your lips, though your make sure your eyes still sparkle a little, keeping them partially crinkled. But then you bite the inside of your lip, and the rest of the mask fades, leaving you raw, and more than a bit scared. If you overthink it, it’ll never get done.

“Why do you…I don’t feel like you ever…like we ever talk. Us,” you say, then flush at the word—so intimate. Us. “What do you mean?” He asks, standing sturdy before you. A seed of frustration sprouts within, but you push the irritation away. “I just…You’re always asking me about Elain.” His brow narrows a bit, and you want to take the words back.

“What else?”

You look up at him, all beauty and classical grace, and such unearthly, ethereal lines and angles to him you wish you knew how to paint like Feyre. “What do you mean, ‘what else’?” You ask, a little hurt.

“I mean, is there something else you want to talk about?” He asks, gently. Carefully.

My book would be nice. I’d like you to ask how I’m doing today, how I’m feeling, what I want to do.

“Something that doesn’t involve my sister, would be nice,” you laugh, giving him a smile that reads, can you really blame me for not wanting to talk about Elain all the time? He doesn’t smile like you’d hoped, but frowns. “Do you not like her?” He asks instead, “did something happen between you two?”

“No,” you say hurriedly. “No—nothing happened, we’re fine. Right as rain. It’s just…you always ask after her, and I feel like that’s the only reason you approach me.” You swallow, having begin to put the truth out there for him. “You seem fine talking about other things with Feyre and Nesta, but I can’t remember the last time we talked about something that wasn’t my sister, and I… I don’t really…” You trail off, watching him nervously.

His frown only deepens as he takes you in. “I’m asking out of concern for her well-being, you understand that, don’t you?” He asks.

“I know, I know, but…are you?” You reply, managing to reign in your wince at the blunt question. When he only looks at you without response, you push forward. “I mean, you…you like her, don’t you? That’s why you ask all these questions? Why you care more than the others do?” You say, fighting to keep your voice even as the words come out. “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” you quickly amend, “but, you know, it would be nice to talk to you for you. And you for me. And, you know, she does have a…mate, so, I just thought—”

“What did you think?”

You blink at the sharp tone, his eyes colder than before, more sealed off. Still, you square your shoulders, keeping the book tucked tight against your front. “Well, that, maybe, it would be better to try somewhere else? Instead of investing in someone who’s practically already taken?”

“She doesn’t love him.”

“I know she says that, but—”

“But nothing,” he says, brow narrowing. “The mating bond can’t force someone to fall in love. If she doesn’t want him, she doesn’t have to have him.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you shift on your feet beneath his penetrating gaze. “Feyre and Rhys worked out,” you manage, eyes flitting away from his, focusing on the book in your hands. “And she didn’t love him at first.” The paper’s old and crisp—worn with age. “Then Nesta and Cassian also got together, too,” you add, the pads of your fingers dragging over the pages, “and you saw what Nesta was like. How badly she was struggling. They didn’t look like they were going anywhere but destruction, but—”

“Are you done with the nosey speculation into other people’s relationships, or is that how you’ve found yourself filling your time?”

Again you blink at him, caught off guard by the ice in his tone. “I’m not saying it’s wrong to pursue her, Azriel,” you appease—try to. “I’m just saying maybe you could try looking…elsewhere, you know? Maybe try something with someone else? That won’t end badly?”

“You don’t know it will end badly,” he replies, all former warmth gone, no trace of it in his beautifully designed features. “It will for someone. Even if you and Elain do somehow end up together, what about Lucien? If it were Feyre and Rhys, or Nesta and Cass, would you think it okay for someone to try and separate them? When they were chosen to be together?”

“Bad pairings happen. Rhys’ parents are a fine example.”

“Yes, but they’re rather suited for one another, don’t you think?” You ask, pushing forward, “Elain’s always excelled at social events. She easily settles into the flow of conversation—she knows what to say, and how to act to put people at ease around her. And Lucien does the same. He knows how to draw ties between people where there seem to be none, just like her. He knows how to keep conversation flowing without pushing it, how to keep things at the right pace, just like her.”

“While you…” you pause, and his jaw tightens.

“Go on,” he says icily, “tell me why think I’m undeserving of her.”

“I don’t think its a case of deserving, Azriel,” you say quickly. “But you…well, you try to blend into any corner you can when there are more than three people in the room.”

His brow narrows, “I didn’t realise you’d been keeping tabs on me.”

“Yes, well, you’re the only one I’m interested in, so.” Your voice is soft, bladed, honed. Resigned. You lips press into a thin line as your eyes flicker away from his, too embarrassed to look even in his general vicinity. You had never anticipated laying your heart to bare to be so…scary? Terrifying?

Anti-climactic.

Admitted in such a quiet, understated way. As if he isn’t the first one you’ve ever felt so strongly for. As if he isn’t the first one who’s given you a vague understanding of why some women were so happy to do whatever their husbands told them. Why they were so happy to live in subservience, and why that’s not what it was.

“You think you’re deserving of me?” He asks, coldly. Shame and embarrassment heat your features, but you manage to shoot back, “do you think you’re deserving of her?” You cross your arms over your chest, trying to prevent yourself from being intimidated by his height, and muscle, and beauty, and overall damned attractiveness that makes you weak in the knees.

His upper lip twitches in a repressed snarl, anxiety spiking in your chest. “Answer my question,” he says, softly, an edge to his voice. You swallow, “answer mine.” You’ve never demanded something from someone before, but it’s out there now, and it feels surprisingly good to insist on something for yourself.

He regards you silently, and it takes a remarkable strength to stand still beneath his icy gaze—knowing that he’s judging what he’s seeing. Weighing if you’re worth his answer.

“I think I gave a hint of my interest for her,” he says, eyes glittering with something cold that you’re unaccustomed to have turned on yourself. “And she reciprocated with her own signs.” He stares you down, unyielding, and powerful, and you want to run and hide. “What about you?”

You purse your lips to keep them from trembling as heat crawls beneath your skin with humiliation. But—no. Get over it. Make it through. Survive something else. “I think I’m tired, and hurt from knowing that you only talk to me because you want to know how my sister is doing,” you confess, voice wobbling. “I think it’s cruel to continue asking after her when I so obviously answer every question you have just so you might pay me a little more attention.”

There’s no bite to your words, and they come out softer and weaker than you had expected. You feel tired, and drained. Eyelids heavy and heart rate spiking every other beat, numerous crescent shaped indentations on the heel of your palms.

“Maybe you’d be better off turning your affections somewhere they’d be appreciated,” he says, icily. Your heart aches, and it takes a few humiliating moments for you to gather yourself enough that you won’t burst into tears when you again find your voice. “That’s all you have to say?” You manage, fingers trembling behind your back.

“Maybe if you were even half the female she is, I’d be tempted to show a little interest,” he snarls softly, eyes glittering with cold rage.

It feels like a smack to the face, a punch to your stomach. Your eyes go wide, then blur, hot pressure building steadily. You dig your nails into the binding of your book, and move to walk past him—at least preserve what little dignity is still intact by refusing to let him see you cry. He already barely sees you as a woman, you won’t win any points with your blubbering. He wants a female, not a girl.

But he seems to realise what he’s said and turns, gripping your upper arm to keep you from leaving. You allow him to stop you, if only because demanding he let you go would show your tears. “I didn’t mean that,” he says quietly, and you can hear the pity in his voice. “I spoke in anger, I did not mean to upset—”

“Get those hands off me,” you snarl, turning on him with defensive ire blazing in your pupils. Rage fresh from the forges.

He recoils as if you burned him. Retreats a step.

“Not nice, is it? Targeting someone’s insecurity—rubbing salt into an open wound?” You snap, blinking away the tears and pulling your arm back to yourself. “Don’t come asking me for updates on Elain again. I don’t want to talk to you if your only interest is in getting between her legs.”

He’s silent for a moment, and you debate just running from the library—you can feel the storm in him brewing, and you’re not sure you’re ready for him. But he doesn’t wait for you to decide, because the storm breaks right then and there. “At least she has someone interested in getting her into bed,” he says softly, hazel piercing into you. “Can you say the same?”

Mortification flushes your skin, mouth parting in humiliation. “I—…This is inappropriate,” you hiss to hide your burning shame. Because no, it’s always been Elain and Nesta to be pursued. His eyes gleam, reading your thoughts clear as day in your expression. “Thought not.”

Pain twists viciously across your chest, heart strings being plucked within an inch of snapping—pulled taught around your throat. “If I’ve never taken a man to bed, it is not because I am unwanted. Rather that I would not waste my self nor my time on someone I was not sure about. That I did not want with everything I have,” you whisper hoarsely—the final layer stripped bare for him to slice and dissect.

But then he steps forward, and without thinking, you yield a step. He’s not perturbed, and takes another. “You admit you have no experience in bed, yet think you could handle me?” He snarls softly, wings flaring ever so slightly at his back, shadows thickening. “I don’t think it’s a matter of handling you, Azriel.” His name is a little more than a whisper from your mouth. One he tracks eagerly.

“No?” He asks, stepping forward again, slowly herding you. “Then what?” You swallow, trying to stand your ground, but the sense of him is so overpowering, he threatens to obliterate every ounce of your own self. “I think it would be a matter of learning. And if you think I’m unprepared, then Elain is definitely no better off, so that clearly isn’t your issue.”

“At least she’s shared the bed of a man before, at least she would know what to do.” You don’t correct him that you have, in fact, shared a bed with a male before. A few in fact, by this point. Nesta’s the bad influence. He steps forward again, and he’s towering over you, hazel glittering between his shadows. “At least she wouldn’t lose her head over the slightest touch.”

And then his hands have landed softly on your hips, and your head is silent. Only his touch on your body, his warmth on your skin, seeping into your clothes. Does he find your shape pleasing? Is he feeling this mind-numbing shock? The tingling at his fingertips where they’re pressing into you?

For a too-long moment you just stare at him, thoughts eddying about without a destination, floating throughout your conscious.

“Still in there?” He taunts quietly, pushing you back, turning you gently as he feels the heat radiating from your skin, the stiffness to your body beneath his touch. It’s only when a hard, wooden shelf digs into the base of your spine that you realise he’s pushed you against the case. You open your mouth—to say what, you don’t know. He beats you to it either way. “You want to prove you haven’t already lost your mind?” He says softly, voice like a lover’s touch. You can do nothing but stare at him, panting softly, completely at his mercy. “Tell me to stop, or I’ll keep going. Say no, and it finishes,” he murmurs, keeping you pressed tight between his hips and the book case. “But I think you’ve already lost.”

You blink up at him, hardly a thought behind your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you’re struggling frantically to decode his words, translate them into something that makes sense. And then his challenge clicks, and you take a sudden, deep breath. You need to tell him to stop, to show him you’re still in control of yourself—that you haven’t lost your head over the slightest touch.

But then his mouth latches over yours, tongue prying your lips apart, and your efforts of rebellion are washed away. You go all warm, and soft, and pliable in his hands, melting like butter as you coat him. His piercing hazel eyes lock with yours as his mouth slants, one hand rising to the curve of your spine, pulling you against his front.

How are you supposed to stand against him when he annihilates everything that you are with the softest brush of his fingers—fingers that are now tracing up the path of your spine, reaching that final notch as they tangle with delicious pressure in your hair. His gaze cuts into you as his tongue drags across your own, flicking at the roof of your mouth.

He’s utterly unruffled, and you feel like you’re on the verge of bursting into flame right there, setting him ablaze in the process.

But then you’re again subverting his expectations, your hands flying over his shoulders as you tilt your head to allow him deeper. The only sign of surprise he allows is a blink of his eyes, but you’re already lifting onto your tiptoes—the swell of your breasts dragging over his chest in a way you must’ve learned males like. But where would you have learned?

Your arms tighten, then your hips are pressing against him, and—you’re fighting back, he realises. And for the first time in a long, long time, he feels excitement flare deep inside him as you stride to meet him. No matter that you aren’t Elain: he’s hungry, and you can make your own decisions. If you want him to stop, you need only say the word, and he’ll be off you. But if you don’t…well, he’s not going to be the one who backs out first.

He has a damn point to prove—that you have no idea what you’re getting into with him.

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