#Been thinking about these two lately and their personalities clash so well

[azaharinflames]

Well, hello my fellow and beloved BuckTommies. I come here with a new theory - not quite or what will happen, but on what did.

Let me put my tin hat firmly on my head for a second, alright? Because we have been talking about all kinds of possibilities, and have theorized about BTS, and even budget cuts, but.

We are all missing one thing.

What happened during the summer that has repercussions in the series right now? Or that will have in the immediate future, but we’re only seeing the start of...?

An ‘I Know What You Did Last Summer’ reboot was officially announced.

It is set to be filmed in Australia come the New Year. And JLH, famously having been in the first one, is going to Australia to film for this one as well. 

This means that, just like they did in Season 5, they will have to take JLH’s absence and other compromises into consideration. In Season 5 she was on maternity leave, this time around she has a movie to shoot. And it just hit me that it might be the reason why things got moved around, and why perhaps they did what they did with BuckTommy.

(Disclaimer: I am not putting this on JLH, and I don’t want anyone to do it either. If this is something that clashed with the initial plan, what the writers and Tim came up with it’s on them, never Jennifer)

We know Tim is not someone who writes his stuff in advance. He’s flying by the seat of his pants; he writes as he goes, and this is something he has said before. So now he has to write and plan in advance because Jennifer will be somewhat absent. The direct result of this is, in my opinion, Madney.

The storyline of them having a second child at home, having her go back to her family, having Jee notice her absence, and then starting to debate on whether to have a second kid… had the potential to be more than one episode. Or, at the very least, to end the episode with them deciding that, yeah, they want to try, they want to expand their family. Maddie’s mentality on PPD could’ve been an episode in itself (Lord knows we don’t get enough Maddie episodes, especially lately), instead of a throwaway line on how she doesn’t want PPD to define her. I do think it’s amazing she’s at that point in her life and on her journey, but I can’t help but think this could’ve also been a really nice episode arc to have. Chimney’s doubts were also gone pretty quickly, with not even needing to talk to anyone about it. All in all - the storyline felt rushed and a bit anticlimactic. And at this point, I can only imagine they will somehow try to create some drama surrounding the pregnancy in 808 (807 perhaps, but it feels like it’s busy enough) so that Jennifer’s absence is justified. We don’t know if, just like in Season 5, Kenny will also be absent (Chim going with Maddie wherever she goes, I don’t know). People weren’t happy with him having to be off the show in Season 5, so I hope he stays, but we don’t know just yet. 

A side result of this could’ve also been BuckTommy. If there is something I’ve gathered from Oliver and Lou’s interviews is that both were a bit surprised it happened this soon. Now, we don’t know if this means they were breaking up for good later on in the season, if this was supposed to be a longer arc, or if they knew there were talks of break-up-make-up, once they were more established. As it is, this happened now.

And in my mind there are two possible theories. Let me present first why I have them:

-They need some substantial drama to go on for 8b. Bathena went through it in S7 and now are rebuilding their life, so it would be a bit of an overkill to have them go through it in S8 as well. Eddie is going through his own stuff and is going on a journey of discovering and enjoying himself (that, personally, I hope deals with actually dealing with it and having deep conversations with Chris). Hen and Karen have just gone over the drama of the adoption and, to be honest, they need a breather. Give them SLs that don’t involve them somewhat losing their kids (be it adoption, or an accident). 

-So… that leaves Buck. Buck, whom we all joked was the only one doing fine in Season 7. Whom we all said was going to go through it in Season 8 to compensate for his happiness in 7. Well. The joke’s on us. He’s had such a drama-free period of his life (yes, affected by what was happening around him, but not directly involved in it) that I think we forgot they enjoy making him suffer. We barely saw a thing with Gerard, and nothing to last the whole season, so… now this. 

So. From this, I see two options:

-They always knew they wanted to have BT have issues, that they didn’t want them to be easy or smooth-sailing, because has a couple in this show been that? No, right? So why would they? So they wanted a break-up arc, potentially ending in making up. Perhaps things moved around a little bit, we don’t know. But maybe they want 8b to deal with Buck trying to see what Tommy meant, yet realizing he still wants Tommy, thus starting the make-up arc. Meaning, they decided to have BT bear the weight of the heavy drama of this second half. People are already invested, clearly, and with JLH gone for a bit, they need people interested in what will happen next.

-Sort of the same, but different results - they just want Buck dating around and having drama with that. Admittedly weaker than the other option, but it is one I don’t necessarily eliminate just yet. Mostly because I’ve learned to be skeptical of 911’s intentions. 

Previous to 806, I fully expected 8b to have more Buck/BT, Madney stories as A plot, as they haven’t had one in 8A. But now that I think about it all, I can’t help but wonder if those last minutes decisions were to accomodate what will happen, just like it happened in Season 5 (which, I will remind you, dealt with her absence by having a lot more of Taylor than we were expecting. Her appearances went down quite a bit once JLH and Kenny were back, and shortly after, she was gone).

Again, I am aware I might be delulu right now. But for the first time in days, something has fully made sense to me. In conclusion:

[doumadono]

Katsuki and Reader as Academic rivals/enemies during their college years but is actually messing around behind close doors. For sinful sunday!!<3

Warnings: smut w/o plot, smut, cunnilingus, fem!reader, rough oral (f receiving), fingering, pro hero Bakugo

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during the Sinful Sunday poll. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA & MY HERO ACADEMIA MASTERLIST - PART II

"You're late," Bakugo growls, his voice edged with impatience as he glares at you from the doorway.

You smirk, brushing past him. "Didn't know the great Dynamight had a bedtime like a preschooler."

"Shut up," he snaps as he closes the door behind you. "You know I don't like waiting."

"And yet here we are," you retort, throwing your bag on his couch with a casual toss. 

The apartment is spacious, minimalist in its decor, with a few hints of Bakugo's personality — trophies from his hero work, a stack of fitness magazines, and a well-worn punching bag in the corner.

"Still can't believe we're doing this," he mutters, following you into the living room.

"Which part?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. "The studying, or the fact that we're doing it together?"

Bakugo's scowl deepens. "Both."

You laugh, settling into the couch and pulling out your notes. "Just like old times, huh? Except now we're not stuck in that cramped library."

He huffs, flopping down beside you. "Yeah, but you still haven't gotten any less annoying."

"And you haven't gotten any less competitive," you shoot back, your eyes meeting his. There's a spark there, the same one that always flared when the two of you clashed in college. 

You and Bakugo had been academic rivals since your first year at UA High School. Both fiercely competitive and driven, you clashed in every class, constantly trying to outdo each other in hero training exercises and exams. The rivalry continued into college, where you found yourselves in the same courses, your mutual determination pushing you to excel. 

Despite the animosity, there was an undeniable chemistry between you, a spark that neither of you acknowledged but both felt deeply. 

Now, years later, with Bakugo as a top Pro Hero and you excelling in your own career, the competitive fire still burns. Especially when the Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight fails yet another mandatory training session assigned to him by the Hero Commission.

Bakugo grabs a stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours accidentally. 

The contact sends a jolt through you, and you pull back, trying to focus on the task at hand. 

"So, where were we?" he asks, his voice a little rougher.

"Here," you say, pointing to a highlighted section. "The analysis of hero efficiency metrics. You were going to show me how you applied it to your latest mission."

He nods, leaning closer. The heat from his body is distracting, and you find it hard to concentrate as he explains the data. His voice is low, the words rolling over you as you watch the way his lips move, the intensity in his eyes.

"...and that's how I optimized the response time," he finishes, looking up at you expectantly.

You blink, realizing you've barely absorbed a word. "Right. Makes sense."

He narrows his eyes. "You're not even listening, are ya, Y/N?"

"I am!" you protest, but he doesn't buy it.

"Prove it," he challenges, leaning even closer. "Explain it back to me."

Your mind races, trying to piece together what he said, but all you can think about is how close he is, the smell of his cologne, the way his breath brushes against your skin. "I, um..."

His smirk is infuriating. "Thought so, smartass."

"You're impossible," you mutter, but there's no heat in your words.

"And you're distracted," he counters. "Wonder why that is."

You glare at him, but he's right. "Maybe it's because you're in my personal space," you say, but even as you say it, you don't move away.

"Maybe you like it," he shoots back, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you moves. Then, before you can second-guess yourself, you close the gap, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that's more a battle than a caress. It's messy, desperate, and full of the same fire that always ignited when you were around each other.

Bakugo responds instantly, his hands tangling in your hair as he deepens the kiss. The taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours, it's everything you've been denying yourself for years. 

You break apart, both of you breathing hard. "This doesn't change anything," you whisper, more to yourself than to him. “I’m so sorry… I shouldn’t have…”

He smirks, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips. "No, it doesn't. But it sure as hell makes things more interesting."

You laugh, a breathless sound that turns into a moan as he captures your mouth again. 

This time, there's no hesitation, no holding back. The kiss is fierce, and you can feel the same hunger in him that burns in you.

Bakugo pulls you onto his lap, his hands roaming your back as he presses you closer. The feel of his hard muscles against you, the heat of his skin, it's all intoxicating. 

You grind against him, eliciting a low growl from his throat.

"God, you're so fucking impatient," he mutters against your lips, but his hands are gentle as they slip under your shirt, exploring the skin beneath.

"You love it," you tease, arching into his touch.

"Maybe I do," he admits, his voice rough with desire. "But don't think this means you've won."

"Wouldn't dream of it," you reply, your hands busy unbuttoning his shirt. 

His shirt comes off in a tangle of limbs and fabric, neither of you willing to break the kiss for more than a few seconds.  

You trail kisses down his neck, savoring the way he shudders beneath you.

Bakugo flips you onto your back, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks down at you. "You're still a pain in my ass," he growls. His body presses you into the mattress, the weight of him a delicious reminder of his strength and power. 

You feel his hands slide up your sides, pushing your shirt higher until he pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. His mouth is on you instantly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to the swell of your breasts.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he murmurs against your skin, his voice thick with desire. 

You arch into his touch, your fingers threading through his hair as you hold him close. 

He groans in response, the sound vibrating against your skin as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently.

You can feel yourself growing wetter.

"Fuck," he mutters, releasing your nipple with a wet pop and moving to the other one. His free hand roams lower, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your hip, until he reaches the waistband of your pants. With a rough tug, he pulls them down.

“Bakugo,” you basically growl at him, demanding his attention.

"Patience," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "Good things come to those who wait."

But you're beyond waiting. You need him now. You reach down and grab his hand, guiding it to where you're aching for him - right between the thighs you willingly part just for him.

Bakugo's fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties, watching as your eyes flutter closed in pleasure. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

"Do you like that, baby?" he growls in your ear, his voice low and husky.

You nod, biting your lip as he continues to rub you through the thin fabric. You’re so wet already, he can feel it seeping through your panties and onto his fingers.

Bakugo grins, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear and pulling them down your parted legs. 

You lift your hips to help him, and soon you’re lying naked before him.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you, spread out on the couch like a feast. Your skin is soft and smooth, your breasts are full and round, and your pussy is glistening with wetness, just for him.

His fingers slip inside you easily. You’re oh so tight, he can feel your muscles clenching around his digits as he moves them in and out. "Fuck, you feel so good," he praises, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

"Fuck," you breathe, your hips bucking involuntarily. "Yes, just like that."

Bakugo's fingers curl inside you, hitting all the right spots. 

You can feel yourself already getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke. And then, just as you think you can't take it any longer, he stops.

You whimper in protest, but he just smirks. 

"Not yet," he says. "I want to taste you first."

Before you can react, he's sliding down your body, his mouth hot and wet on your inner thigh. 

You moan as he kisses and licks his way closer to your mound, your whole body trembling with anticipation.

And then, finally, his tongue is on your clit, teasing and flicking in a way that makes your whole body shudder. You can hear the wet sounds of his mouth on you, the slick slide of his tongue. It's obscene and you can't get enough of it. You buck your hips, grinding against his face as he devours you.

"Oh god, Bakugo," you moan, your voice hoarse. "I'm going to come."

He just hums in response, his tongue working harder, faster. He uses his thumb to roll your clitty in a circle, pushing the upper portion of your outer lips aside. As Bakugo plays with your little, swollen pearl, your lower lips begin to glisten, then open, and after a longer moment of playing while your breathing quickens, a thin string of crystalized dew falls from your juicy pink slit.

“Just like that, just like that!” you are a moaning mess beneath him.

“Holy fucking shit,” he growls lowly, watching your body writhe, feeling the intense strain as his sweatpants become painfully tight. Bakugo doesn't stop, though. He keeps licking and sucking. He licks up through your soft folds like a dog, lapping at your cunny juices as if his life depends on it. He then curls and straightens his calloused fingers several times, petting the underside of your mound from within. “Cum for me, I wanna see you cumming hard for me,” Bakugo commands.

Your clit throbs in his mouth as he sucks the little pearl in, finger-fucking your slick, drenched pussy.

A high pitched whimper cuts off your words. Your stomach heaves, your ass shakes, and you feed Bakugo your muff with a sexy, up and down grinding motion that runs your pussy all over his slightly unshaven face. You tighten your grip on his ash-blonde hair and pull him against your pussy, mashing your clit between his tongue and your own pubic bone.

Finally, Katsuki pulls away, his face glistening with your juices.

"Fuck," you breathe, still reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. "That was incredible."

Bakugo just grins, clearly pleased with himself. "You're welcome," he says. Bakugo licks and kisses his way up your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. When he reaches your lips, he kisses you deeply before pulling back. "You know this doesn't mean I'm ever going to go easy on you," he says, grinding his crotch against your slick folds.

The unmistakable hardness pressing against you is making you acutely aware of how hard he is — how hard you've made him just with your moans and pussy.

You wrap your arms around his neck. "Yeah, I know. But quit this shit now and fuck me like I know you've always wanted to."

[xan-izme]

Double Life 8 (ATSV x reader x Batfam)

Summary: A little trip to New York with not only Damian and Bruce. But the three other boys. Jason, sadly being one of them.

part 7, Part 9

You were pretty excited about Damian Bruce coming, happy about Dick and Tim coming along as well. You were very, very reluctant on Jason coming. But if Jason was left in the mansion alone, your pretty sure he would ransack your room for the case. The case was of course not in your room anymore, you're not that stupid. But if Jason kept thinking you were that simple minded, then it buys you enough time to work things out.

The ride to New York wasn't that bad. Jason didn't talk much. You just answered a few simple questions the others would ask.

As for Daimian, he was very unhappy with EVERYONE coming along at first. But then he realized that maybe he can get enough info from your mothers' side of the family. This boy had everything planed out.

Once the limo was parked, and you stepped out with the help of Bruce. You let out a small nervous sigh. You're not sure how things are going to go down.

Bruce rested his hand on your shoulder, he sensed you were nervous. You look up at him. He gave you a small smile and you did the same.

Miles was at school, in his dorm room. His roommate Ganke, was not in at the moment. So, he had some time to do some more research and try to see what was in the chip you sent him.

Yes, the chip from the Alchemex case you had to fight Redhood for. You sent it to Miles a few days ago. And you felt like it wasn't smart for you to do it with Jason around. So, you had Miles take care of it.

So much has been happening. More and more anomalies are showing up. It's getting dangerous for him and Uncle Aron every day. He honestly doesn't know how you did it. How you handled these crazy villains on your own. Of course, you have super strength and have abilities similar to a damn spider. But this is very stressful.

Hiding things from his parents hurt, and it was hard to explain why he was late for events or where he got bruises from. Why he hasn't been sleeping well. Why eating is somehow harder to do. Arguing with his parents about his behavior.

Now that he thinks about it, these were the exact things you went through. No?

The messed-up sleep schedule, the amount of food he sees you eat just get smaller and smaller. The unexplained injuries. And arguing with your mom. Yeah. He remembers those arguments. Never pretty. It was rear you ever disagreed with your mother, nor did you act out on her. But he remembers around the time when your hero life was clashing with your personal life began to take effect.

He was only there a few times when you argued with your mom. And damn did it get heated between you two. You would just sound so angry with her. You'd storm out of the house and disappear for hours. Till you come back with a Boquet of your mother's favorite flowers as some form of apology.

And of course, your mother always forgave you. You were her little girl after all.

Miles sighed as he shook his head, rubbing his hand against his face. He's tired but can't find it in himself to sleep. He just misses you. Misses hanging out with you. The two of you are barely texting and calling anymore. He understands, you're grieving and needs some time away. But he just wants things to go back to normal. He wants his favorite cousin back.

back at the party. You got everyone introduced. Tim and Dick were just enjoying the food and small talk. Bruce was chatting it up with your Uncle Aaron and Uncle Jeff. Damian was just sticking close to you as you were speaking with different family members and friends.

He got a lot of cheek pinching and being called cute when you introduced him as your little brother.

"Hey cupcake. How about you go and mingle with the other kids. Their playing some fun games." You say with a small smile. But Damian's face scrunches up in distaste at the thought

"I have no desire to do such a thing. What, do you not want me to be around you?"

"I just want you to have fun." You gently ruffle his head.

As you did that, you hear your aunt call out to you. You turn your attention to her and see her walking to you with a smile and her arms open. You smiled back and greeted her, the two of you sharing a hug.

"Oh, mi amor! it's good to have you home." your aunt squeezed you and kissed all over your face. You became a little flustered from her actions.

You seemed more better from the last time she saw you. The two of you talked as Daimian just stood closely behind you. gripping onto your shirt to try and get your attention again.

But you just rest your hand on his head. A small signal for him to wait.

Rio noticed Damian. She gave a small smile and bent down a little. "And who is this?". Damian looked up at you than to the woman in front of him.

"Tia, this is Damian, my little brother. Damian this is my aunty. Say hi." You nudged Damian to stand in front of you now. Damian cleared his throat and introduced himself. Rio pinched and cooed at Damian. She thought it was cute at how mature he was acting.

"Tia, donde está Miles, no lo he visto." You questioned about your cousins where abouts as you glanced around the crowed.

Rio let out a small sigh. "Ese chico Ha estado portándose mal, ¿sabes?. He got a 'D' in Spanish. A 'D'!"

You couldn't help but chuckle as you held Damian by the shoulders to keep him close to you. "Es un chico inteligente, tía Pero sigue siendo humano Cometerá errores" You spoke with a small smile. Trying to ease your aunt. And silently hopping Miles hasn't done anything ass-whopping worthy yet as you said this.

Your aunt sighs. "I know. He's just worrying me you know? Sus calificaciones están bajando No me hablará a mí ni a tu tío. He doesn't even have friends to hang out with."

"What about his roommate, Ganke?"

"He doesn't count." Your aunt was quick with that one. "Oh. . . well. If you want. I can talk to him maybe."

Damian was just silently listening to the conversation. Annualizing the way you and your aunt interacted. Now he has noticed, how everyone you spoke to and interacted with. Always had something to say about your cousin Miles. And how you seem to justify or excuse his behavior to others.

But to your aunt. You offer to fix. Or try to fix the problem.

"That would be great." Your aunt seems to calm at your words.

The party went on. And it was now time for Jeff to give a speech. It was a heartwarming speech. Your uncle Jeff gave thanks to his wife. His brother, and his son, who. . . was still not here.

Finally, he mentioned you. You were standing with the other Wayne's as you were surprised that you were mentioned

"To my niece. Who always was there for my son. Made sure he didn't get into any trouble and making sure he knows who was in charge." A few chuckles came from the crowed around you.

"We actually, have a little surprise for you. Miles was uh- supposed to be the one to reveal it. But it seems he's running late."

Your brow raised as you turn your head to Aaron who just smiled and turned you around to face a building with a large tarp over it.

You were, still confused. Until the tarp came down.

"Miles stayed up a few nights to get it, just right." Aaron spoke softly to you.

On the building. Miles had graffitied a large portion of it. Of your mother. And he got every detail down. To her smile down to her beaty marks. Looked so realistic. Like, she was really there. Smiling at you. God have you missed that smile.

This, made you really happy. Nothing could really put you down now.

Miles came rushing onto the rooftop. Trying to make it through the crowd of people. Soon reaching his parents.

"Ma! Dad! sorry I'm late. I got the cake. Is Y/n here?" Miles was a little out of breath as he stood in front of his parents.

"Where have you been? Y/n was looking for you and you missed your father's speech." Rio had her hand on her hip as she had a deep frown.

"And the surprise for your cousin." Jeff piped up. Rio slapped her husband's chest at the mentioning of that.

"And the Suprise for her!"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Miles tried not to show how irritated he was at getting scolded at the moment.

"No, you do not know Miles. Your cousin has been going through a rough time. We need to show her we are here for her. That she still has us to count on. We are family and you know if you were in her position she would be by your side 24/7!" Rio went off on Miles who was getting more frustrated by the moment.

And with a roll of his eyes Miles spoke. "Okay okay. Whatever. . ." Miles froze as his eyes widen. realizing his words

'shit.'

"Whatever. . . whatever??-" Before Rio could say anything else you spoke up and stepped between Miles and his parents

"Miles! where have you been? come here!" You rushed to hug your cousin "You almost died there." You mumbled into your cousin's ear. You pulled away with a smile.

"Sorry, can I take Miles away for a bit." You say with a hopeful look. They both sighed and let you take Miles away. Saving him from their wrath.

You dragged Miles towards an area on the roof for you two to talk privately. And have a good view of the art Miles made.

"You made this. For me?" You kept Miles close as you spoke. Miles let a small smile grace his lips and gave a small shrug. "It's nothing really. I took it from one of your favorite pictures of her."

You smiled down at your cousin fondly and hugged him. Squeezing him tightly. Smiles smiled. He missed your hugs. He hugs you back just as tightly. The air around you two was peaceful. You pulled away a little and ruffled his head

"Thank you. . . for everything." You spoke softly. Miles could see your eyes water up just a bit. Miles rolled his eyes as he playfully punched your arm. "Don't get emotional on me now."

the two of you laughed and just silently stare at the graffiti art of your mother.

". . . You miss her?" Miles suddenly spoke. You were, a little taken aback by his question. You turn your head to look at him. You can tell by his expression. He wanted this conversation with no masks. And just the truth.

"Everyday." You respond. Your tone, a little sad.

Silence falls upon you two once again. It was a peaceful kind of silence.

"Miles?"

". . . Yeah?"

"I love you."

Miles lets out a small smile.

"I know."

[doromoni]

Gear Shift Failure | MV1, LN4

Ships : Lando Norris x presenter! Reader , Max Verstappen x presenter! Reader

Genre : Fluff , Angst

Sub tags : Mutual Pinning , She fell too early , He fell too late.

Summary : A new f1 presenter and journalist has entered the paddock and she brings chaos along the way. And as competition looms , will the current Champion be as fast outside the track?

Face claim : Sofia Wylie

A/N: Upon receiving many requests, here’s the continuation you lovely goblins 🤍. Also I am still continuing the Clash of Champions ~ i promise (finals end this week!!)

Part 1.

You fought the smile that was forming on your face, as you re-read your conversation with Lando from yesterday.

It has already been a week since your interview with Lando, yet you somehow found yourself in constant communication with the young British Driver. You weren’t going to deny that you enjoyed spending time and talking to him. And maybe going out on dates with Lando would do you good.

“ Ok, so I have a friend and she has a dilemma”

You suddenly broke the silence in the room. You were in your designated office inside Sky yet again, but this time you had the older drivers lazying around your space. Some with a book in hand — while the rest just played on their phones.

“What’s your dilemma muñequita? “ Fernando asked as he set down his phone, giving you his entire attention.

“Not me Nando! My friend” you exclaimed at the Spanish world champion who was lounging on your couch still munching on the chips he found in your stash.

“Mhm… yes your friend. Continue, sweetie~ “ Lewis urged you to speak, as he settled further into your couch right beside Fernando

“ Yes, let the girl speak! What is it Liefje” Nico added as he clutched your oversized plush into his arms, a half-opened book dangling in his hands.

“My friend likes this guy right? The two of them are very close and they share this connection that to others seems more than a friendship- and at one point my friend thought that he felt the same with her a—“

You once again didn’t finish your sentence when Nando interrupted you once more.

“Really? What happe-“The Aston Martin driver was invested

“LET THE GIRL SPEAK!”

“FERNANDO! “

“MATE, I SWEAR!”

They all collectively scolded the Spanish driver — prompting him to laugh and raise his hands in surrender

“Ok. So my friend thought that the guy that she liked was starting to like her back. But not a week later, the guy that she liked was rumored to have a girlfriend. And he started to avoid my friend…. This was 3 months ago by the way.” You finally finished your story, and now you look at their reactions

Fernando, Lewis, Nico, and Valterri had all fallen into thinking.

“So how long is the guy and the new girl going out? And how does your friend feel” the quiet Finnish driver gently asked you.

“Oh, officially for a few weeks, I guess? My friend felt hurt of course. But it gets less painful overtime… uh she said that to me”

“Oh. That’s good for your friend, liefjie! By the sound of it she slowly moving on” Nico uttered, a sense of comfort rushed through you

“How is your friend now, Is she feeling ok?” Lewis asked empathically

“ She’s great, and you’re right Nico. She slowly moving on.”

“So what’s the problem muñequita?”

“Well, another person had asked her out and she feels guilty because she doesn’t want to use him to get over the guy she likes” you explained to the 4 older drivers.

“WHO ASKED YOU OUT !? Young lady tell us this instance!” You didn’t expect Lewis’ outbursts — you expect Nando to react that way, but not Lewis!

“It’s not me!!” You tried to bluff once more

“Y/N, we know it’s you” Nico explained with a smile, while you pouted as they all chuckled.

“OK FINE! It’s me” You utter as you gave up the act.

“So I assume the guy you were talking about was Max, right?” Valtteri asked, finally speaking.

“I’m very obvious aren’t I?” You said defeated, as you stood up from your seat and wedged yourself beside Nico.

“Everyone with a pair of eyes knew something was between you and Max, “ Nando said as Valterri nodded in agreement.

“Young lady, you haven’t answered my question. Who asked you? Is it another driver?” Suddenly you felt like you were on the hot seat — as all their eyes focused on you with eyebrows raised. It felt like you were being questioned by your dad.

“Uhmm yes, it’s another driver… it’s Lando” You said as you picked on your nails. A shy smile graces your face.

“ He finally had the balls to ask huh?” Nando snickered

“What?? You also knew?!” You asked flabbergasted. You surveyed the room and saw all of them snickering amongst themselves.

“He did ask for my permission, sort of… it was just jumbled words that didn’t make sense then” Lewis explained as he visibly got less tense.

“Lando asked permission from you?? What are you, my dad?” You asked amused, come to think of it Lewis was sort of a father figure to you. Being that he always supported and guided you ever since the start of your journey in Formula 1

“Well, you sticking around me like a toddler in your first year here doesn’t help, sweetie.” Lewis could only laugh at the memories of him taking care of you. Memories like Lewis driving you around, giving you food, telling you to talk to others.

“And what are you guys? My uncles?” You asked the 3 drivers, who only shrugged and nodded.

“Well, should I say yes to Lando then?” You asked dropping all pretense and just laying it all out

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, Liefjie” Nico advised

“Yeah try something new, Dear. Max had his chance and he didn’t take it. So go have fun with Lando!” Fernando added, patting your hand.

You set your eyes on Valtteri — who only nodded his head with a smile.

“ You have our approval, and we’ll support your decision, sweetie! Do what will make you happy” Lewis said comfortingly

the.Y/N

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris , maxverstappen1, and 472,002 others

the.Y/N Apparently, @lewishamilton is my father?? I was only made notice now, ok I guess.

lewishamilton thank you for the flattering pictures , sweetie 🥲

the.Y/N oh no worries, pops! More to come I swear🤍

user1 Y/N please don’t dogshow the old man 😭

user2 HAHAHAHAAH I swear Y/N is a different breed

user3 Awwww! I always loved it when Lewis calls Y/N sweetie.

user4 The grid father and daughter pairing 🤍

landonorris Oh, You weren’t aware?

the.Y/N No, I was not :)) . I was made aware when someone asked for permission.

landonorris well glad to be of service

lewishamilton @landonorris get your act straight! I already approve

landonorris @lewishamilton will do my very best, sir. Thank you 🫡

the.Y/N I hate and love you both 😮‍💨

User1 Approve of what Sir Lewis?? Lando is approved for what??

mercedesamgf1 family photo with Roscoe when?

the.Y/N already have tons of it in the gallery 😛

You continued to scroll past your feed and Kelly’s post appeared …

kellypiquet

liked by maxvestappen1 and 638,073 others

kellypiquet Happiest when with you 💙

view all comments

maxverstappen1 💙

You knew that you shouldn’t feel jealousy or anger, but you couldn’t help but frown as you saw Max and Kelly acting all sweet. It still stung that you didn’t mean anything more to Max, all the memories you’ve made you’ve looked at rose-tinted, shattered.

So you strengthened your resolve and focused all your thoughts on your work. You then remembered that you had a date with Lando. You went back to your conversation a while ago

Then slowly, without noticing, a smile bloomed on your face at the thought of Lando Norris.

One date with Lando turned into two, two turned into three, then four and five.

the.Y/N

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_oficial, and 629,920 others

the.Y/N So much fun , laughs , and food 🧡 10/10 would do again!

charles_leclerc you aren’t sneaky with that orange heart y/n

the.y/n 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

lewishamilton stay safe and go home early ~ i’m watching you two.

the.Y/N hehehe will do, promise

User1 Ms. Y/N are you seeing someone 🧐

the.Y/N I dunno~ maybeeee

User2 ok! Im invested. Who is it @the.Y/N?? Please spill

User2 this is so Lando Norris coded I swear.

User 6 I know!! Golf and karting? Could they be more obvious. Ughh I ship it🧡

User3 you look sooooooo pretty Y/N!! who ever’s dating , I hope they could fight . 😤

liked by landonorris

User3 LANDO NORRIS LIKED MY COMMENT??? HELLO?!

User4 Lando????!!

You were progressively forgetting your feelings for the Dutch Red Bull Driver . How can you not? When Lando Norris had been showering you with so much love and affection.

Then finally, Lando asked you to be his girlfriend. You said yes. You were ready to let someone else in your heart— and this time you were sure that there was someone to catch you when you fell.

your story close friends

viewed by landonorris , charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 , and 35 others

story replies

charles_leclerc I made this couple 💪 It was all MEEEE.

landonorris 🧡🤍 someones getting bolder ey?

maxverstappen1 haha i’ve been replaced as your bestfriend 😂

landonorris story

viewed by the.Y/N , charles_leclerc , carlossainz55, maxverstappen1 , and 5,628,926 others

the.Y/N And I was bold? Ok soft launch ~ Kudos mr. Norris! I won’t go down without a fight tho 🫡

charles_leclerc someones being braveee

carlossainz55 Landino! Are you and y/n ready to share to the world then?

The two of you kept everything on the low, yet you didn’t keep it a secret — only very select few knew. Lando and you wanted to enjoy what you two had to yourselves first. Everyone outside your circle thought that the two of you were just friends.

But that didn’t stop either of you from posting online.

Max saw your posts and the feeling of something clawing in his stomach resurfaced. He didn’t like it one bit. It has been 2 months ever since he found out that Lando held feelings for you. And it has been a month since the two of you properly spoke. And if he were honest to himself, Max missed your presence dearly.

Kelly didn’t have anything in common with him. And most of the time, he grew bored and he just wanted to crawl back to his sim and drive constantly.

Max missed talking about everything and nothing with you. He missed how you shared his interests and how the two of you explored every one of them. Max just missed… You.

The longer he stared at his phone screen, the deeper his anxiety rose. He didn’t like what he saw, not one bit. He needed to do something about it.

***

You are lounging in your Boyfriend’s condo, dressed in a hoodie that you stole from his dresser. Soft music played on the centralized sound system.

Lando was inside his streaming room live on Twitch, while you made your way into his kitchen and started to cook dinner for the two of you. Lando did love your cooking.

Then suddenly your phone rang and to your surprise it was Max calling. Without any further thought, you picked up the call.

“Hello, Y/N?” You heard Max’s voice on the line, the usual butterflies present in your stomach were now absent. You didn’t feel the bubbling sensation you used to feel when Max unexpectedly called.

Then suddenly, you heard Lando shout nonsense, probably at his best mate. A smile grazed your lips as you heard your boyfriend’s shout in the distance.

“Oh, hi Max! What’s up?” You asked curiously, balancing your phone on your shoulders as you took out the ingredients from the fridge.

“Where are you, right now? No one’s answering the front door” Max’s reply startled you. Why is he at your house all of a sudden?

“What? You’re in my house… uh why?” You asked, a tone of confusion present in your voice

“It’s Wednesday, Movie night remember” You were filled with even more perplexity for the Red Bull driver. The two of you haven’t talked one one-on-one for nearly a month, not even through chat. Movie nights with Max were long forgotten.

“Max…. We haven’t had movie night in 3 months.” You replied carefully.

“Uhm, we can start again?” You sensed the hopelessness in his voice.

“I’m sorry Max, I’m at Lando’s right now… and I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it if we suddenly continued movie nights”

“You’re at Lando’s? Y/N its already la-”

“Max I think it’s best if we kept our distance… yeah?” You suddenly interjected, clearly stating your boundaries.

“What?! Why?” Max asked incredulously

“Max … you have a girlfriend! I don’t want to create any misunderstandings. And I don’t want Lando to have doubts … considering that I used to have feelings for you before. But we can still hang out … but in a group setting”

You didn’t mean to spill everything and tell Max of your past feelings for him, but you found yourself relieved of letting it out of your chest. Now you could truly say that you have moved on.

There was silence before Max had finally answered. “Oh… ok. I understand”

“Bye Max” At that you ended the call, leaving that part of your past behind.

The sound of the call ending echoed in Max’s head. The words you’ve said slowly dawned on him.

You liked him? Since when? Suddenly understanding and relief filled Max. He realized that he liked you more than just a sister. He didn’t look at you as just a friend. He suddenly understood the emotions that he was so afraid to explore before. What he felt for you was something so strong that it scared him. It wasn’t like what he felt when he was with Kelly, no. But with you, He felt vulnerable, He felt like everything was on the table because you understood him so well.

Then suddenly Max froze, as if cold water was dumped all over him. You said liked … past tensed. You didn’t like him anymore. Max was suddenly filled with dread, chest hurting as if tons of weight pressed on it.

He had his chances in making you his, and his alone. Max Verstappen maybe the fastest driver on the grid , but outside the track — he had failed to switch gears from making you from a friend to much much more. He had lost you and it was all his fault.

landonorris

liked by the.Y/N , mclaren, carlossainz55, lewishamilton, charles_leclerc , and 1,639,829 others

landonorris the world should see the forever view of my camera lens. Love you , stranger 🧡

tagged @the.Y/N

the.Y/N I love you more, stranger🧡

taglist: @spookystitchery @bibissparkles @newlifeforus @steamy-smokey @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @charizznorizz @evesfile @j-lesca @gr1mes-cc @ironmaiden1313

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

A comprehensive list of all my fics in order from most recent to oldest with summary descriptions for each.

18+

Two for One

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During at night out everything comes to a head and suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both on the way to a night of intense attraction coming to a head.

Rumors

Summary: A fight about a rumor, a confrontation, an admission, and suddenly your in the back of your car with no pants on.

Sleepless Nights

Summary: A bout of insomnia keeps you awake, so you decide to go for a midnight walk. To your surprise you find that you aren't the only one still up as the sound of the shower running in the communal bathroom catches your attention. Who is it and what are they doing in there? Why does it sound like your lieutenant and why is he moaning your name?

Closing Time

Summary: A military lieutenant closing in on retirement, a younger, beautiful bartender, when you and Lt. Riley meet there is an instant chemistry, though it doesn't really go anywhere as he thinks himself a little too mature for you... until one night he stays at the bar later than he ever has and gets caught in a storm. What will happen after closing time?

A Lesson Well Learned

Summary: Tired of your antics regarding how cavalier you take your sexual relationship, your lieutenant cuts you off and that has you immediately plotting. You know you can get him to break and all it'll take is one purchase. How can he keep his resolve when he sees what you've bought? And how will he act when he catches you?

Smoke Break

Summary: Lt. Riley sure has been taking a lot of smoke breaks lately. Strange that you always seem to disappear at the same time too.

Meetings and Temptations

Summary: A new relationship means excitement, an uncontrollable craving for each other. When an early morning romp is interrupted with a scheduled weekly meeting, will you be able to keep your hands to yourself when Price begins to drone on? And if you can't, what will your lieutenant lover do once the meeting is over after you've tempted him for far too long?

A Risk Worth Taking

Summary: You and Simon can't keep your hands off one another as you come home one night, but a slight problem has you in a pickle: your birth control has just run out and you are all out of condoms. Not to worry, Simon assures you that he will pull out. But as you ride him you begin to question if you really want him to. Will he stick to his promise or will he give in to your need?

Can't Let You Go

Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?

A Ride You'll Never Forget

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

A New Form of Pleasure

Summary: Simon is struggling, he can't get off and he doesn't know what to do. As his sergeant you are one of the closest to him and can see something is up. An impromptu visit late one night might just be what he needs... And the way you are suddenly making him bow to your authority and turning his brain off might actually make him come.

Breakfast in Bed

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Truth or Dare

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Truth or Dare 2: Dare To Tell the Truth

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Truth or Dare 3: How Truly Do You Need Me

Summary: After being so rudely interrupted in the middle of you and your lieutenant's tryst, but he made a promise. "This isn't over." You hope that he plans to keep it, but when? Things might have to wait as you are assigned to a mission with him. But when being close proves to much, will both of you be able to hold off on your lust or will you succumb to all that tension?

Truth or Dare 4: Dare to Take It Further

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so. But things don't always go according to plan.

Truth or Dare 5: No More Games

Summary: Things are getting complicated, truths are being revealed, and a decisions are going to have to be made regarding the future. So much hangs in the balance and emotions are high as reality makes this about no more games.

A Special Dinner for Two

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

I'll Crawl Home To Her

Summary: Simon is away on a mission and you are on his mind. Having to extend his stay, he is going to miss Valentine's day, but coming across a recent trend on TikTok, he may have a way to say just how much you mean to him.

Don't Touch What He's Claimed

Summary: A night out at your favorite local hangout is what he promised you after being away on deployment for so long, but one small incident throws him over the edge into full on possessive episode. Something about the way he is pulling off to the side of the road might mean he can't make it home before reclaiming his prize.

Simon Riley: Girl Dad Extraordinaire

Summary: From a request about Simon being more hands on with his 3 m.o. daughter.

You Are Beautiful

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce

Summary: With the drink flowing and the atmosphere right, Simon cannot seem to keep his hands off of you. There is a need, a need to touch and to play.

Let Me Talk You Through It

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day

Summary: After a day where nothing goes right, Simon only wants to come home to the one person he trusts- you.

Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office

Summary: From a request for Simon getting so worked up during a cockwarming session that he ends up having to pull out because he is going to come.

Drunk on You

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other.

Bringing in the New Year with Simon

Summary: Short one-shot about how it would be spending NYE with Simon at the stroke of midnight.

Simon waking up in the middle of the night horny and unable to get back to sleep. There's only one thing he wants to fix it.

Summary: A little sleepy cuddle-fucking to get Simon back to sleep.

Wanna Make You Mine

Summary: Simon is out at a stag party for Prices upcoming wedding when he comes how early with something important on his mind that he needs to see you to say. Is he just drunk or is it something more?

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

Summary: An incident with a new recruit has you questioning things, but not to worry as Simon is here to show you that you are the only one he could ever want.

Simon is so worked up all day that he rushes home, telling you to meet him at the door because he cannot wait to have you

Summary: He has been needing you all day and as soon as he gets home he wants you waiting ready for him so that he can fix that ache that has been driving him insane.

I'll Take You Filthy

Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.

His Heart, His Light, His World- Dad!Simon

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

A Bit of Fun At the World's End

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you haven't felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Joining the 141 had one hard rule: no relationships of any kind between members, but that is something proving to be too much the closer you and Simon get

Summary: Simon cannot help but break the rules when it comes to you.

Body worship with Simon

Summary: Simon taking the time to make sure you feel like the goddess he thinks you are.

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day

Summary: It has been a terrible, no good, rotten ass day. There is only one cure for it and that is for that hulking military man to find his way between your legs to eat you out until he can't breathe.

Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar

Summary: You just couldn't wait until you both got back, could you? No, not when you and Simon are screwing like bunnies every chance you get. So what's Simon to do? That's easy, take you in the bathroom and fix the problem of course.

Think of Me When You Cum Later (Part 1)

Summary: Simon is missing you like crazy while being away on a mission, but he has a clever plan to make sure you miss him too. So, perhaps a little video of him stroking himself will do the trick.

Something to Make it Worse (Part 2)

Summary: You get Simon's video and it leaves you wanting him something bad. Well, two can play at this game, so why not send him back a video of your own?

Something to Break the Tension (Part 3)

Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?

Late Night Texts (Part 1)

Summary: Nothing good ever comes from a text after dark... or does it? Guess it depends on who it is and what they need. If it's a certain Lieutenant, then it's bound to be something worth your while.

Mid-day Texts (Part 2)

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Life Changing Texts (Part 3)

Summary: After your explosive homecoming where everything seemed to fall right into place, Simon begins to get cold feet about his feelings and what they could mean for the both of you. All seems bleak until a text about someone harassing you while you're on a night out makes him come to your aid and solidifies a decision he has already made.

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized shirt

Summary: From a request about Simon seeing reader in his shirt for the first time.

Simon and you screwing in the shower

Summary: What's better than sex with Simon? Add some steam, some hot water, and some solitude and you have the recipe for a very good time.

Having Simon pick out lingerie for you

Summary: Coming up with the idea to take Simon out so that he can pick out a couple pieces of lingerie he wants to see you in, his choices really surprise you.

Simon has a favorite item of clothing you wear and you wear it since he's having a bad day

Summary: Simon has one favorite piece of clothing you wear and of course when he's having a rough day, you just have to wear it for him.

Simon fucking you brainless and then rubbing your head as you pass out beside him

Summary: Simon is not shy when it comes to sex, it's the more intimate things that he has a problem with. But after a round of rigorous screwing, he wants to show you a bit of extra care.

Desperate Times Call for Filthy Fantasies (Part 1)

Summary: As a new recruit, you should not have the gall to talk back to your superior officer like you do. He's tried it all, trying to work the insubordination out of you, but to no avail. Your antics have really gotten under his skin lately, but is it really because you won't listen and follow orders...or is there something more to it that he can't admit? The way his cock throbs might indicate the latter and what he thinks about as he touches himself might just speak to that as well.

The Brat and Her Beast (Part 2)

Summary: After a certain Lieutenant allowed his fantasies to run wild, there was only one thing left to do: make them a reality. Opportunity presents itself one day as your brattiness has reached new highs and he follows you into the communal bathroom and locks the door behind you both. You're all alone and now what? Seems you've bitten off more than you can chew, but you both know now that was your plan all along.

Silence on the Line

Summary: You and Ghost have always gotten through missions by keeping in constant radio contact when possible. On one fateful mission, he sends out the call but there is no reply. Only silence. As time goes on his greatest fear is realized and all that he knew is now turned on it's head. What happens when reality hits all at once? And what does it do to the once stoic man who is no stranger to death?

The Lieutenant's Whore (Part 1)

Summary: When a one time sexual encounter leaves you wanting more, but the rules were set the moment he entered you and now he does his best to avoid you, what is a girl to do to get what she wants? That's right, make him jealous. And if it works a little too well maybe he will give you the night of your life. Good thing you have a flirty Scotsman to mess with, perhaps if you can't get your way, you can still have fun. Only time and a bit of effort on your part will tell what goes down.

What's Mine You'll Never Have (Part 2)

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

[multi-fandomfuckboy]

Stranger Than Fiction

Part 28: Games

Billy Hargrove x Reader (Slowburn)

Part 1,... (Masterlist)...Part 28, Part 29 (Coming Soon)...

AN: lol I'm back on my bullshit. Word Count: 3,874 Warnings: allusions to abuse

It’s a short ride. Neither of you speak, allowing the music to fill the space between you. It’s comfortable. You listen to each song as the cassette plays through the specific mix curated by its maker. Max had shown you a few of these ‘mixtapes' Billy had made the day you waited with her. You don’t fully understand how he’s able to get each song to seamlessly blend into the next despite the variation in artists and rhythms. 

Then a song comes on that grabs your attention. It’s the same loud tune, a guitar continuously strumming along with the beat of drums and bass. The thing that stands out to you are the lyrics. 

“People think I’m insane,  because I’m frowning all the time…  I need someone to show me the things in life that I can’t find I can’t see the things that make true happiness,  I must be blind.”

“Who sings this?” You ask, glancing sidelong at Billy. 

“Black Sabbath.” He tells you, keeping his eyes ahead. “It’s one of their older songs but it still holds up.” He explains pulling to a stop in front of his house. When he moves to cut the engine your hand reflexively grabs his wrist, stopping him. 

“Wait. I want to hear the rest.” You tell him, using your other hand to turn up the volume.   Billy doesn’t fight you, watching you in silence as you listen to the rest of the song. 

“Make a joke and I will sigh And you will laugh and I will cry Happiness I cannot feel And love to me is so unreal… I tell you to enjoy life I wish I could, but it’s too late”

Your heart gives an uncomfortable squeeze for a beat as the song ends. There is a tense moment before the next song begins where you notice Billy's pulse under your fingertips. You don’t know why you're squeezing Billy’s wrist so tightly. You slowly uncurl your fingers, sitting back in your seat. The lyrics bounce around in your mind as you sit there. Billy finally cuts the engine, ending the music as well. 

“You okay?” Billy finally asks, lifting a brow. You nod.

“Yea, it’s just weird. How something can sound so loud and angry but under it all it’s actually really sad.” You explain. “Like a cry for help.” Billy’s lips quirk up slightly.

“Maybe that’s what they were going for?” He says. “Music is just another way to tell a story. I’m surprised you’re not more into it.” He tells you, moving to exit the car. “If you thought that was good I’ll have to show you some Bon Jovi.” He goes on as you follow him out of the car and up the steps towards the house. “I’m assuming you have no idea who that is.” Billy says with a smirk. 

“Yea yea, save it. Max already thinks I’ve been living under a rock for the past 17 years.” You reply with an eye roll. Billy huffs a laugh. 

“That little shit wouldn’t know dick about music if it weren’t for me.” He says, pulling out his keys. His words are harsh but there is no heat to them. 

“Well this is a first.” You quip as he unlocks and opens the front door, stepping to the side to let you enter first. “A whole different experience than coming in though the window.” You joke, stepping into the house. 

“We can always go around back if you’d feel more comfortable.” He jokes back, following you in. You take a moment to really look around as Billy closes and bolts the door behind you. You’ve never been in this part of the house, only glimpsing at it through windows. It’s not a large space and it’s clear that 4 people occupy the small domicile. Bits and pieces of everyones lives are scattered around. 

“I think I’m good.” You reply. You notice that there is a clear clash in interior design through the house. The free weights contrast with the decorative rug under them. Beer cans stacked next to decorative shell decor on the mantle. Someone had tried to make this house a home, but there was something off. It felt like two personalities were struggling to mesh into a comfortable middle, it was unstable, chaotic. 

Billy moves around you to lead you deeper into the house but before you can move any further Max’s voice calls from her room. 

“Billy, I need to go to the arcade! Where did you-oh.” She stops short seeing you in the living room. For some reason it feels like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t, a pit of anxiety taking root in your stomach. 

“Hey Max.” You greet, giving her a half wave. She just watches you skeptically. Her narrowed eyes dart between you and Billy. 

“What’s your malfunction?” Billy snaps after the silence lasts a moment longer than is comfortable. 

“Are you two dating?” Max asks bluntly. 

“What?!” Both you and Billy ask in unison. You share a confused glance before turning back to Max. Your face heats exponentially. 

“Mind your own business you little shit.” Billy bites at the same time you try to explain. 

“He’s tutoring me in history.” A smirk, eerily similar to Billy’s, spreads across Max’s face. 

“Is that what they call it these days?” She asks, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, a taunting lift in her brow. 

“If you want a ride, I would shut the hell up.” Billy says sternly, narrowing his eyes at the redhead. 

“Jeez, learn how to take a joke.” Max huffs with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. She ducks back into her room, leaving you and Billy in the living room. Billy just shakes his head, clenching his jaw as he heads for his room. 

“I swear if her attitude gets any worse Neil is going to lose his shit.” He mumbles, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Be ready in 20 minutes!” He yells after her. The only confirmation that she heard him comes in the form of a dramatic groan. 

“That’s how all kids are at that age. I was so argumentative my mom and I didn’t have a pleasant interaction for weeks at a time, and don’t get me started on Hopper. I’m pretty sure I took years off his life with my attitude.” You chuckle fondly at the memory of your painful growing years. 

“Sometimes being a kid isn’t a good enough excuse.” Billy replies calmly. Your stomach twists uncomfortably remembering how Neil had looked at his own son that night not so long ago. 

“Neil and Susan are in Indianapolis Christmas shopping, so I’m playing chauffeur for the day.” Billy explains, entering his room and heading straight for the bed, flopping down on it. 

“I don’t mind helping watch her.” You offer without much thought. You hover in the doorway, suddenly nervous about being in his room alone with him. It’s not like you had never been in his room alone before, you spent many nights sitting across from him on the bed pouring over history lessons, keeping your voices low to not wake anyone else in the house. But something about being here in the daylight, not sneaking around, it makes your stomach swirl. You glance around, his room looks the same as it always does. Bed half made, cigarette butts stamped out in the ashtray next to the cassettes on the nightstand. You do notice that there is now a small dent in the wall next to the mirror, but you can’t be sure that it wasn’t always there.

“Neil would kick my ass if he knew I pawned my responsibility off on you.” Billy explains, propping himself up on his elbow to see you. You absentmindedly skim your fingers over the outside of the doorframe.

“It’s not ‘pawning’ them off on me. We would do it together.” You reason with him. Your fingers catch on something cold and metal on the outside of the doorframe. Leaning back to glance at what you’re touching you see the latch of a lock. Glancing at the outer side of the door you see the other half of the latch. Something cold prickles down your spine.

This isn’t just a teenager wanting privacy, the way this latch is set up, it would function to lock the door from the outside. Why would anyone need that? Your mind struggles to make sense of it. 

“He wouldn’t see it that way.” He tells you flatly. 

“Then don’t tell him.” You say simply, stepping fully into the room. “I’ll help you out today and I’ll be gone by the time they get home. “ you explain, sitting gently on the edge of the bed next to his legs. “Just like when we painted the porch.” You remind him. You watch something dance behind his eyes at the memory from this summer that feels like a hundred years ago. “Consider it part of my tutoring payment. I know the food isn’t a fair trade.” You insist. When he finally nods, giving in, you have to smile. 

“Fine. But only because the idea of dealing with a prepubescent she-devil by myself makes me want to stick needles in my brain… and leaving her alone is not an option.” He tells you, sitting up next to you. His thigh presses against yours, and the proximity sends sparks over your nerves. 

Remembering the promise you made yourself before leaving home you try to scoot away to put some distance between your bodies. Billy notices the movement immediately. 

“Oh sorry, am I making you nervous?” He asks, leaning in even closer, one of his arms going behind your back. He’s not touching you, but he’s close enough that you can feel him if you lean back even slightly. You struggle to hold his gaze.

“No.” You say simply, not trusting your voice to say more without shaking. 

“You sure?” He asks, lifting a brow. You feel him lean in even closer, you swear you can feel the heat coming off of him. You force yourself to hold his gaze and remain still, fighting the urge to pull away. Like a game of personal space chicken.

“I’m fine.” You practically whisper, your voice sounding too loud with how close he is. When he chuckles you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek. His eyes shift between yours. You can see the flecks of green in his sky blue iris. Your breath mingles with his and you smell his last cigarette mixed with spearmint gum. You swallow thickly, gritting your teeth together in defiance. 

“You can tell me if you’re not.” Billy insists, his voice just as soft. He’s flirting but you can hear the seriousness laced in his tone. He’s making sure you know he’ll stop, if you ask. Something about that knowledge eases the panic in you. Shifting slightly you tilt your chin up, watching him the way he always looks at you.

“I’m okay.” You say more confidently. You see his adams apple bob as he swallows, his eyes seeming to darken. His gaze flickers to your parted lips so quickly you think you imagined it. Your mouth suddenly goes dry, your stomach flipping at the memory of what his lips felt like against you-

“Right, that’s what ‘not dating’ looks like.” Max’s voice calls loudly from the doorway. You feel like a bucket of ice water has just been poured over your head as you pull away from Billy. Embarrassment floods through you as Billy leaps from the bed lunging towards the door. 

“Fuck off!” He yells, slamming the door closed. 

“I still need a ride!” Max yells from outside the door, pounding on it for emphasis. Billy’s shoulders are tense as he stands with his back to you, his arms braced against the door. You see him take a deep breath, then another, bowing his head as he lowers his arms, slightly adjusting the waistband of his jeans. 

“You sure you want in on this shit show?” He asks, turning to lean back against the door. Max pounds on the door again, shaking its frame. You manage a dry laugh, trying to shove all the mortifying shame you feel into the back of your mind. 

“Oh this is nothing. Try telling Mike Wheeler a campaign needs to end early. Kid turns into a gremlin.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the bed. Billy lifts a brow. 

“I’m more surprised that you know what a gremlin is.” He admits teasingly. You roll your eyes. 

“I do have a life outside of this room you know.” You tell him. You won’t admit that the only reason you know the plot of gremlins is because Steve insisted on catching you up on all the big hits you had missed while you were in the hospital, not that you had actually seen it in theaters. 

Billy watches you approach with a healthy dose of skepticism. 

“Come on Hargrove, put on a brave face. I hear they can smell fear.” You joke, clapping a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m going to be late!” Max yells, pounding harder. 

“Be my guest Loca, I always knew you had a death wish.” Billy says with a smirk. Your heart pounds at the memory of your first meeting. It feels like a million years ago, like you were an entirely different person, and looking at Billy’s confident smirk, the teasing glint in his eyes, you wonder if he’s a different person now too. 

Without another word, Billy whips open the door to reveal a very agitated Max.

“Finally!” She exclaims, turning on her heel striding towards the front door, her bag already slung over her shoulder. Billy shoots you a look over his shoulder before following after her. 

“Hey, Max?” You call, slipping in front of Billy to catch up to her. She only glances at you, still heading for the door. “Do you mind if I tag along to the arcade?” You ask. Your words cause her to halt, turning to face you with the full force of her scrutinizing glare. You feel Billy come to a stop behind you, her eyes dart to him before returning to you. 

“Did he ask you to babysit me?” She asks indignantly. 

“No!” You say, throwing your hands up. “I just thought you could teach me some stuff. I’m not very good and I hear you kick the boys' butts on a regular basis.” You explain, hoping it comes off as genuine. She studies you for another beat, seeming to weigh the pros and cons of allowing you to come with her. Finally, she shrugs. 

“Fine. But don’t try to talk to me while I’m playing. It throws me off.” She instructs, turning for the door. When her back is turned you quickly give Billy an enthusiastic thumbs up, earning another eye roll. 

The three of you climb into the car, Billy turning the volume up to his usual bone shaking level as he whips out of his spot, speeding down the road. It’s a short ride into town, especially with how Billy drives. When he comes to a stop outside the arcade you climb out, pulling the seat forward to allow Max out. 

“I’ll meet you in there.” you tell her. Needing no explanation, Max jogs to the doors slipping into the dimly lit building. You can see the boys' bikes already lined up outside. “You coming?” you ask Billy, leaning back into the car. 

“Hell no. I can babysit just fine from here. You couldn’t pay me to go into that dork pit.” He scoffs. You roll your eyes at his stubbornness. 

“Oh come on, tough guy. Where is your sense of adventure and whimsy.” you ask, only receiving an unimpressed look in return. 

“Whimsy?” He asks, his lip curling at the word. 

“I’ll buy you a coke.” you offer, hoping that bribery will soften his resolve. Billy’s lips press into a firm line, you can see his jaw tick as he grinds his teeth. 

“Fine.” he says after a moment. “But I have to run an errand real quick.” He tells you. Thinking this is some kind of trick to get out of coming in, you narrow your eyes. 

“You promise to come in when you get back?” you ask, extending your pinky to him. He lifts a brow, a dry laugh escaping him.

“What are you 12?” He asks. When you don’t show any signs of joking he heaves a sigh, linking his pinky with yours. “Fine, yes. I promise I’ll come back and watch you be terrible at dig dug, dork.” He promises with a teasing smirk. 

“Good.” you smile, letting his pinky go and stepping back. “And I’m not that bad.” you clarify, closing the door and allowing him to pull away from the curb. 

It turns out that you ARE that bad. 

Max allows you to take the first turn, even offering you pointers, but by the end of your third turn she takes over explaining that she can’t stand watching you throw away quarters like that. You’re a sorry excuse for a gamer, your brain having trouble communicating quickly enough with your hands on the controls. It’s alright though, you have more fun watching Max and the boys take turns trying to beat each other's scores. 

The longer you observe the group of adolescents the more you note the change in dynamic among them. Max and Lucus are openly interested in each other but don’t seem to know how to navigate this new realm of relationship. Mike appears distracted, constantly glancing at his watch. You assume he’s anxious to see El. You know that Hopper has started allowing the two to hang out at the cabin and though you’ve pushed for El to have more social time, Hopper's old habits die hard. His paranoia is persistent. You can’t say that you don’t understand where he’s coming from. 

Dustin and Will seem more irritated than anything with the new shift in priorities within the group. 

After roughly 30 minutes of watching Max wipe the floor with the boys scores, you venture to the opposite side of the arcade. You want to give the group space but also stay close enough to keep an eye on them. You scan the games, searching for one that you can play without too much instruction. Ms. Pac-Man seems to be simple enough, and it’s located in a spot that allows you to watch your group bounce from game to game. 

Inserting your first quarter you begin the game. You’re able to keep up at first, but when the ghosts start to speed up you can't seem to evade them quick enough. After your 4th quarter your pride is stinging. 

“Fuck…” you curse to yourself as once again you are cornered by the little red ghost. Before you can insert another quarter, you feel someone approaching from your left, coming too close to just be passing by, tensing your hand itches to lash out but you stop yourself when you realize who it is.

“Hey.” Keiths’ monotone voice greets you. You know him from school, and to your knowledge the two of you had never actually spoken to each other. 

“Hi Keith.” you reply politely. You aren’t sure why he’s approaching you. You know that he works here so possibly you were doing something wrong. “What’s up?” you ask. Kieth seems to swallow past something in his struggle to speak. 

“I see you around sometimes.” he tells you, unable to meet your eyes. You don’t know what to say to that.

“Yea, I babysit so I come in to keep an eye on my kids sometimes.” you tell him. 

“That’s cool.” he mumbles “You know I could help you with some of the games if you want. Are you alone today?” He asks. You know he doesn't mean for it to sound as creepy as it does but you can’t help your slight cringe. 

“No, I’m actually with-” you move to gesture towards Max but are cut off when Billy appears next to you, casually draping an arm over your shoulders. 

“Me.” He finishes for you, keeping his eyes on Keith who looks like a deer caught in headlights. 

“O-oh, cool.” Keith manages to mumble, taking a step back. “Nevermind then” he manages to get out, obviously resisting the urge to turn and run. Understandable with the way Billy is glaring daggers at him.

“I’ll see you around.” you offer Keith a kind smile. He only nods sheepishly before retreating further into the arcade. Sighing, you swat at Billy’s side, causing him to drop his arm from your shoulder with a chuckle.

“What was that for?” he asks, doing his best to look genuinely confused. You see right through it to the self satisfaction he's really feeling. 

“Did you have to mad dog him? He was just saying ‘Hi’.” you tell him. Billy scoffs, moving to lean against the game. 

“Yea, right.” He says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “You didn’t see how he’s been eyeing you, trying to work up the courage to come ‘say hi’.” he tells you, throwing air quotes around your words. 

“And how long were you watching that?” You ask, crossing your arms over your chest. Billy shakes his head, his curls falling across his forehead.

“You’re missing the point.” He tells you, deflecting the question. 

“What point is that?” You ask, shaking your head as you dig a quarter out of your pocket and lean over to place it into the game. When you straighten up Billy has taken a step into your space. You could take a step back to give yourself some room, but you don't. You stand your ground, tilting your head up to meet his stare head on. 

“The point is that you’re playing a game you don’t know the rules of and guys like that-” he jerks his chin in the direction Keith had run off. “Will take advantage of that.” he tells you, his voice low. You know he’s too close. That you should take a step back. That the way he’s looking down at you is too personal. That either one of you could close the distance between you with a breath. 

“I’m not really good at games.” you admit, feeling the heat rushing to your face. Still you can’t seem to look away. Billy’s sharp gaze seems to soften slightly at your admission. 

“I know…” He says softly, his eyes shifting between yours. “I just watched you die 4 times and not even make it past the first level of Pac-man.” He says, his teasing smirk overtaking all the gentleness that had once been in his eyes. Finally, you pull back shocked.

“You stalker!” you accuse, Billy just chuckles turning to face the game. “And I was multitasking.” you try to defend your abysmal performance, gesturing to the group now huddled around galaga. 

“Sure, sure. Let me show you how it’s done.” he says confidently, starting the queued up game. 

“Hey! That was my quarter!” You protest. Billy only chuckles again.

“I’ll get the next one, crazy.” he tells you, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen.

AN: sorry this took so long... again!

@official-starcourt-mall@lem0ns77@bethii1 @wysteria-arts @fanficfanatic204 @theshinyrock @spacedaddydinn @raidxny @emmyawards1 @lucxxy @leia9817 @wounded-writing @taisab02 @goblinpit @howlerwolfmax @kilvru3 @blueberry-birdie @flamewriterr @im-julessssss @tsukibaby1@mikeyswifie@superblyspeedydragon @let-love-bleeds-red @m-rae23 @msrawog @speakinglikeconstellations @taintedxkisses @pineapleavocado @hawkinsavclub1983 @arael-asuka @velvet-spider @extra-3motions @uniquecookiepainterbear @crimsonsabbath @mushy-mushroom04 @jevdidv @vermillionwinter@black-kitten-imagines@sammysgirl1997@fillechatoyante @chaoticbilly @tmriddler @stanseventeen@katzenwahnsinn@wisdomcrys@twoochickens @devrill @loadivine@hermankopusortizorsumshite@0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @primalsnack @peachyaeger@royaltysuite @sunnmoonsstuff @sobleedstherose@harmonics0537 @urmom-0987 @halbhohehalluzination@ladyapplejackdnd

@tulipsandlulis@gremlinfuck @perilous-pasta @candy12110@ccanineal @idkwhyimhere18 @ronnasey @friendlyneighborhoodgrunge-hippy

@chansmaze@sammararaven@tanyaherondale@actual-mom-steve-harrington@harringtonfan4@trenko-heart@maackiimoo@haleypearce@orangechickenpillow @bekindmydarling-blog @urmomgov

@krazy99 @clenchedfist @renaroo123 @bee-1n-space @puppybittingotherpuppy @neonbanshee @cannonize @rhumphr4 @chansbackdoor @cg94 @untoldshortsofthefandoms

@joyisalover @hibyewhy @rosey96 @spacegirl7777 @longingforasteroids @tayhar811 @lizzy6 @simpforbuckyb @laneyspaulding19 @dimskies @nyenye

@awesomesauce-abbie @blueray222

@alexa4040 @blackholegladiator @strangerthings1983fan

@curlszx88 @bdudette @eddiessweetheart86 @haleybarnesx @decadentwastelandtrash @all-for-kpop

@sophiaj650 @dystopianhellscape @punchyprincess23 @luvrsbian

@myrcellavonswartzschild @awk-sauced

@laceypdf @amberpanda99

[theblueflower05]

Just a Little Taste

A/N: Welp. Somehow my breeding/breastfeeding kinks manifested themselves into a story. I wrote this sky high on painkillers and I am a little in love with the whole premise. @tiredmamaissy -I hope more than anything that you enjoy this. You deserve all of the goodness on this site. Your Masterlist is my personal spank bank lol

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: This story is Filthy. Smut with very little plot. Breastfeeding. Pussy Eating. Slight mommy kink if you squint. Very pregnant reader getting pleasured, because pregnant beings can still be sexual. Aged up!Neteyam

You are responsible for cultivating your own online experience, please do not interact if any of these tags are triggering to you. Minors DNI.

Summary: You’re eight months pregnant with Neteyams child, and after a long day, you both need a little relief. Neteyam x Human! Reader

"Sugar, Honey, Iced Tea

Bumble-bee on the scene.

Yeah, I'd give up my bakery to have a piece of your pie"

- See You Again, Tyler the Creator ft Kali Uchis

Life in the village is always busy. Constantly bustling with life and movement as everyone; human scientist, Avatar and Na’vi alike, rush to keep things afloat.

High Camp is so different then Home Tree had been, the rage of war adding a constant edge to long days and restless nights. You miss the comfort of a slow life, of hazy days down in the jungle. The jagged cliffs of the Hallelujah Mountains still don’t quite feel like home to you.

Still, you go about your daily duties.

Being a Pandoran raised human had always given you a different insight, the two massively different cultures you we’re brought up in clashing and mending to create a skill set that was like no other- it had taken many years of painful trial and error to find your place within the Omiticaya, but healing had always come naturally.

Both holistic and surgical alike. You’d spent years shadowing Mo’at and learning the ancient herbal ways of the people, while well as taking advantage of the many PHD toting scientist back at Hell’s Gate. Medicine had no boundaries, was a way for you to feel close to both sides of yourself. To broach the gap between human and clansman.

You find your skills being needed more than ever. The ever constant raids against the RDA means your hands are rarely idle, forever in movement as you tend to the wounded. Some days you sit in the big Healers Tent with Mo’at and the other Taskarem, and others you’re in the makeshift Medi Bay, which is really more of an Avatar Pod Trailer turned OR, with the handful of human surgeons.

The long hours spent on your feet leave you sore and exhausted, but you have to pull your weight.

Even if said weight is far heavier than usual as of late-

“Y/N” you’re broken out of your thoughts by Max- as he enters the trailer with a holo-tab in hand and a concerned look in his dark eyes “What are you still doing here?”

“I was just finishing up inventory- our antibiotic stock is back way up. Jake was right, those helicopter raids were more than worth it” you’d sorted out the tiny vials of vital medicine by hand, not wanting any to be misplaced or mislabeled.

“You don't think maybe you should head home?” He continues and you sigh.

You miss your tent, and the soft bed of furs that lay inside the secure warm flaps. And the man that waits for you inside of the patchwork leather walls-

“I’m fine” you assure. And really, you are.

It's a fact you have to keep reminding people of.

Yes, you’re as big as a Strumbeast, but you are no less competent. No less able bodied.

Pregnancy is one of the most natural parts of life, a base staple in all’s existence. There are plenty of pregnant Omiticaya women who were expected to play their roles, even as the battle raged outside the safety of the mountain cave system.

It was the nature of your pregnancy that was more…fragile then average. Inside your womb grew a child that would be the first of it’s kind. A scientific mystery: no one had even known it was possible for Na’vi and humans to procreate.

And yet all of the evidence now lies under your shirt. Your stomach round and pronounced, full of growing life.

Full of the love between you and the Olo’eyktan’s eldest son.

Neteyam had left his permanent mark on you. Had part of himself growing inside of you. The thoughts we’re enough to make your knees buckle if you focused on them too hard.

“You’ve been here since 6am, you really should get some rest. Take one of the empty bunks if you want. Have you checked your blood pressure-”

You’re a grown woman. You’re not going to huff and puff and roll your eyes, but fuck, do you want to.

Everyone was so overbearing lately.

Norm and Max we’re constantly breathing down your neck; “The baby has a different growth rate then a human child, we need to monitor the way that your body is responding” Followed closely by Jake who watches you with sharp eagle like eyes and Neytiri, who used to all but ignore your presence, constantly checking in on you throughout the day. Mo’at’s always poking and prodigy, and Kiri almost always has her hands on you in some way shape or form.

You are glad for the support, happy that this baby would be so loved.

But really, you missed being treated like the competent, independent woman you knew you we’re.

“My blood pressure is fine. I thought since we ruled out preeclampsia we weren’t going to worry about it anymore” you know that it’s not going to silence his worry, but still. You can try.

Max goes on one of his science mambo jumbo spiels, and by the end of it you’re waddling out of the lab and back to your hut, annoyed as shit but placating your pseudo father figure all the same. Only a month and a half mor of this and then things could go back to normal.

Everything had just…changed so quickly.

You 're a caretaker by nature. Caring for others is easy, feels right. You’d tucked the much older scientists into bed when you we’re just a pre-teen. Made dinners. Looked out for Spider and the other Sully’s-

And the role reversal still didn't quite sit right with you. Your control freak ways didn't do well with not being the one in charge- you’d been stripped of your title so to speak. You we’re supposed to relax into your new role, enjoy being doted over before the nine month’s we’re over.

You and Neteyam’s shared tent is in the centered in the cave, close to his families, but standing on its own. As private as anyone could get in the busy, close quartered camp. The walls of the hut are familiar, adorned with your combined belongings. Cozy and familiar.

You shimmy free of your confining bra, step out of your cargo pants, then toe off your boots, releasing your swollen sock covered feet with a groan before collapsing into your well loved bed, the soft blankets and familiar scent of your mate lulling you into a deep state of peace.

It’s kind of wild how quickly you can fall asleep these days. Growing a little person from scratch tends to burn a lot of energy and the moment you relax, you’re out like a light.

You don't wake up, even when the horns are sounded for the return of the War Party.

Not when Neteyam makes his way through the camp and enters the tent. He’s wearty, grime covered and hunched over. He only softens when he sees you, tucked safely, into his bed. Your eyes still closed and face still scrunched up as he strips out of his battle band and shin covers. He’s quiet, washing off with the large freshwater basin in the corner before making his way over to his much-missed bed mat.

It isn't until he's crawled under the blankets and wiggled his way as close to you as possible that you begin to stir. His large cat like snout nuzzles into the vulnerable crevice of your neck, chuffing hot breaths against the smooth skin.

You’re not upset at him for waking you up, a drowsy half alert smile stretches over your lips as your hands run up his strong back. Gently working the tense muscles.

He gets so greedy when he comes back from the War runs. He needs to be comforted, to be held and you are all too willing to comply.

Everyone else infantiles you now, and yeah, Neteyam could get a little intense and overprotective, but your relationship had always worked because you were the one person in all of Pandora that babied the future chief.

He was such a sweet man, with so much responsibility on his plate. You loved nothing more than holding him in your arms. Letting him release any and all tension because you had him. You, a tiny soft skinned human, were the barrier between him and the ruthless world.

You’d be such a great mother to his children. His hind brain purrs at the thought. That even through all of the controversy, he knows he’d chosen the right mate. Little and fierce, he hopes the baby is just like you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, tone hushed in the darkness of the tent. The only light coming from the small dying embers of the firepit in the center of the space. Hypnotic shadows dance along the canvas walls and Neteyam's breathing grows shallow as he sinks into it.

The way you smell. The way your heart beats, strong against his cheek. The way your plump body feels so good under his wandering hands. He hadn't been okay, just moments ago. He was delirious, so sick of the fighting that he felt ill with it.

But how could any of those bad feelings exist when he had you waiting for him? Ready to welcome him into your body, your heart, your mind. He doesn't think he could survive without knowing the solace of your love.

“I’m okay, narlor(beauty). Just missed you” he mutters, still trying to dig his face deeper into your skin. He wants to escape inside of you, you chuckle at his futile attempts to mend you both into one entity. His large palms rest against your bloated belly, tenderly and your heart flutters “Missed you both so much”

Being so loved is overwhelming.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

“I missed you, my sweet baby. I missed you all day” you assure him with the words you know he needs to hear. “Our son here thought it would be fun to jump on his sa’nok’s bladder all day. It was like was playing the wokau(pendulum drum) all day long- I spent hours in running back and forth to the bathroom”

Neteyam's laugh is deep and rich. Thoroughly pleased to listen to your stories of your day, eager to hear every minute detail. Desperate to drown out visions of blood and gun smoke with your voice.

“Ah, you have to be nice to your momma, little one” he chastises the bump, raising your shirt over your head, wanting that flimsy barrier gone. His lips trail over the tight skin of your bulging belly as he speaks to his child.

Your son, still safe inside your soft body, knows his fathers voice already. Recognizes that slightly accented cadence, and squirms inside of you happily.

Neteyam usually speaks strictly in Na’vi to your unborn child-

“He needs to know the language of our people, first and foremost”

-he’ll spend hours whispering his mother tongue into your flesh. It always leaves you boneless and shaking. Feeling so special and cared for. Na’vi, though your second language, is familiar to you. You’re fluent in the language- but fuck. The way your mate speaks it is the most beautiful thing. It’s musical, he tells sprawling stories with his colorful words.

There is one English he’s very fond of though. Every time it leaves his plush mouth it makes you grin, sharp. Knowingly.

“Are you gonna be nice to momma, Neteyam?” you question him after a while. His ears quirk, swiveling on his head and his tale flicks once, in obvious excitement.

You know what he’s wanted, ever since he woke you up by nuzzling at your chest. Ever since he peeled off your top and left your heavy breasts bare. Did he think you missed the way his golden gaze would flick to them, eyeing them hungrily.

He needs this as much as you do, but as usual, your sweet boy is too selfless to ask. Won't trouble you with his wants unless you bring it up first.

You reach for his big hand that rests on your belly, and drag it to where you need him. His palm enveloping your tits, the rough callus’s catching on your sensitive nipple just right-

Your pregnancy had been different than regular humanoid pregnancies. Your body worked hard, thrown into overdrive in an attempt to keep up with the fast growing fetus in your womb. You’d started lactating months ago, far earlier then normal. Your breasts firm, full with milk. Ready to feed the child that had not yet come into the world.

At first it had been both painful and embarrassing. You had no child to drink what you were producing and the other breastfeeding women in the tribe we’re hesitant to feed their babies your tawtute(human) milk. Already over emotional due to the hormone change, you’d wept at the fact that you had no one to give what your body readily made.

The fact that you couldn't be a bigger part of your community due to your human heritage, combined with the intense pain that came from having backed up ducts had been too much,

Eventually you’d turned to Neteyam, both your eyes and shirt soaking wet. Begged him to help you. And of course, as always, he did.

It should be awkward, or shameful- but connecting with him on any level is something you cherish. Why would this be any different?

“I’m always nice to you, aren't I, love?” Neteyam gruffs as he gently works at the breast in his hands. Its firm and full of milk, his mouth waters “Do they hurt again?”

“Mhmm” you whine pathetically, and you’re not lying. The skin of your chest is now marred by stretch marks and you’d had to stuff precious, hard to come by toilet paper down your bra all day to keep them from spilling over “They’re so full, Nete”

“Oh” He hums, thumbing at your nipple “Poor momma, I’ll help you. Don't worry” his lips are wet against your skin as he kisses his way to your breast, his tongue peeking out to circle your puffy nipple. A pearlescent drop of milk tops the rosy bud and he groans as it hits his taste buds.

He tells you that you taste good, often. The juices of your pussy, your spit soaked kisses. He’s always been greedy for it, his tongue bullying its way into your holes, desperate for your essence. Your milk is just as delicious as the rest of you.

It quickly goes from kitten licking, wide wet stripes against your pebbled nipple to sucking your big breast as far into his mouth as he could. Careful of his fangs as he gorges himself on your flesh.

He’s loudly appreciative as he suckles on your nipple. Grunting and humming and moaning at the flavor. Your arms come around him, cradling his head to your bosom because it feels so good. Having him this close, knowing that he'd do anything to take care of you. That he truly loved the way you tasted-

Many people thought you and Neteyam would never last. It was lust, they’d claim. Curiosity. A childhood friendship that would fizzle out eventually. Na’vi needed Tsaheylu, it was the lifeblood of all their relationships. Why would the much desired future Olo’eyktan stay with you if he couldn't even properly bond you?

While you couldn't deny that there we’re doubt filled moments that you yourself wondered why he’d chosen you and stayed so loyal to you…you still felt your own form of connection to him. While you’d love to make that sacred bond with him, you didn't feel any less close to your mate.

You never thought that you could be so intertwined with another being.

As Neteyam takes his fill from your breast, you massage the base of his Kuru, firm enough that it makes him hiss. You have no special braid of your own, but he’s always been very free with his when it comes to you.

You can do with as you please. Stroke it. Lick it. Massage it. Hell, he’d even let you touch glowing pink tendrils at the end of it before. Let you feel his exposed nerves, so vulnerable and raw in your hands that he had shed tears as you explored.

Nothing was taboo in your relationship. There was no space undiscovered between you.

Your bodies we’re so very different, and yet you knew his like the back of your hand. All of the strong muscles and hard sinew. The cobalt expanse of his skin didn't have one blemish that you haven't memorized. You could point out his striped pattern in a sea of other Na’vi.

And he knows you right back.

Loves to dig his fingers into your doughy hips, into your pillowy thighs. Your wide ass and ample chest. He loves your form, goes crazy for all of your alien curves. He never cared for your human modesty, he’d wanted to part your ass cheeks and stare at plump of your pussy for as long as he could remember. Wanted to strip you of all of those clothes and just stare.

The fact that he gets to do just that, for the rest of your lives, is his favorite, favorite thing.

You watch him eagerly as he slowly nurses. You can't get enough of the sight of him, his hollowed cheeks, the bob of his throat as he swallows your free flowing milk. He's so strong, his muscles flex in the dim light. All of that strength, and yet he’s so very gentle with you, his rough tongue laving at your sore buds every couple minutes. Soothing and tickling you all the same.

You giggle at a particularly quick swipe, letting out a small squeal as Neteyam’s tongue plays with the flesh in his mouth. His eyes peek open, glittering with mirth and low boiling heat as he meets your gaze. Whin his lips split into a smile, a dribble of translucent white milk escapes. Trickles down from the corners of his lips.

Heat pulses between your legs and you know he can smell how aroused you are.

Neteyam has always been able to turn you on without even trying. A well spoken word, or even a pointed look could get you running your thighs together. All desperate to get him alone and put your hands all over him.

You hate that you cant kiss him the way you want to, your Exo Mask, while necessary to your survival can be suck a fucking menace sometimes.

Your thumb traces his lips, the ones you want pressed against your own so bad. You rub the spilled milk from his chin. Cleaning him up in a way that's so simple, and so beyond erotic.

He breaks eye contact first, like he just can't look at you anymore. His brows all scrunched up, his chest raising and falling rapidly. He releases your sloppy nipple, completely covered in his saliva, and presses his face against the damp skin. Making a sound of distress.

Your fingernails skritch at his scalp, tangled in his many braids “What is it, baby?”

“I wanna fuck you so bad. Eywa, do you even smell yourself, Y/N? So good. I have to-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay” You nod, agreeing blindly. He can have whatever he wants.

“Fuck you hard, though. Gotta pound you. I know I shouldn't but it’ll be alright, huh? Won't hurt the baby?” his face is still buried in your skin, you cant even see his expression as he pleads for your pussy. It makes you so hot.

You push at his chest, needing him to get off of you for just a moment. He’s heavy as shit, a dead weight- doesn't really move until you're pouting and demanding for him to just give you a little space.

Enough that you can wiggle out of your panties and spread your thighs wide for him. Your swollen, sticky pussy on display for your mate.

His nostrils flare, and his thin tail whips wildly behind him.

When he swings your thick thighs up onto his broad shoulders, you let out a low, appreciative moan.

“Such a good boy for momma” you praise him the way the people praise the Great Mother. The cradle of your thighs a sanctuary where you both come to worship.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Welp, I should be finishing up Part Three of First Love/Late Spring or plotting out future installments of The Sweetest Sylaung, but here I am writing nursing filth. Lol I truly have zero regrets, this story was so very self fulfilling(even though it partially came from a request). I hope you guys enjoyed though

As mentioned many times before, requests are currently open. Please send in all that good shit. I could use a good distraction from real life!

[lunarticxenia]

Astrology Observations #4

Hellooooo I’m back!!!!!

TW: SA mention, Ab*se mention

🌬Gemini suns are the epitome of golden retriever energy. 

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people in the psychology field or with psych degrees tend to have Cancer and/or Virgo placements in their big 6. Either that or strong 4th and 6th house energy. Makes a lot of sense. 4th house= emotions. 6th house= service for others.

🌬Cancer suns are underrated for being leaders, I’ve had so many bosses and higher-ups who have been Cancer suns. 

🌬I’ve noticed that homewreckers tend to have a lot of fire/water dominance in their charts, which I think is due to their passion ruling their decisions. I’ve noticed this with cheaters as well. I also think with water placements it comes from insecurity.

🌬Cancer sun women are underrated in terms of sex appeal. My mom said the same thing too so it’s not just me tooting my own horn. Let’s think of some popular Cancer sun celebrities- Pam Anderson, Ariana Grande, Lana Del Rey, Sofia Vergara, Selena Gomez. All have sex appeal and have been sexualized a lot. Cancer sun women do get sexualized a lot. I’m realizing this as I type it. I only notice this in women though, sorry Cancer sun men LMAO. I’m a Cancer sun and I get sexualized for no gd reason.

🌬I’ve noticed that Taurus Venus and Taurus Mars people tend to go for more curvier/voluptuous women. 

🌬Peak Aries moon energy is losing interest in someone because they’re not giving you enough attention. 

🌬I feel like Cancer suns care a lot about politics and this quality is often overlooked. 

🌬I feel like Taurus rising women+ feminine presenting people have like the ultra divine feminine energy. I think it’s because Venus rules their chart, but a lot of Taurus risings I’ve noticed are VERY feminine or have feminine qualities.

🌬Taurus risings and Sagittarius risings tend to be thick LMAO or at least very curvy.

🌬Not really an observation but other aspects in your chart can be very powerful and overshadow qualities you’re “supposed” to have. For example I have two friends who are Aries suns with Libra moons with earth rising, and they are so different. I will say both do have feminine qualities though, like personality wise and physically. Other than that though they’re very different, one is the stereotypical Aries and the other is more like a Pisces.

🌬Idk what’s been going on but I feel like I’ve been encountering so many Libra suns with Sagittarius moons. I don’t know if that’s a common combo, but I’ve been coming across a lot of them lately. (I also work with one). I’ve noticed the men with these aspects are such fuckboys, the women usually aren’t, but the men? Oof.

🌬I’ve noticed a lot of people with Bipolar disorder or BPD tend to have harsh aspects between their sun and moon. I think it’s because those are the two most personal parts of our charts and having them clash can create conflict within.

🌬I feel like a lot of prominent Sagittarius placements get tattoos or wanna get tattoos. P much every Sag placement I’ve known has tattoos or wants to get them. 

🌬Libra sun women have nice asses. I SAID IT OKAY. Even if it’s not big it’s a nice shape.

🌬Libra Mars and Cancer Mars tend to have stomach issues, I feel like it’s because we bottle up our anger and it affects our bodies 😂

🌬️I feel like people with their Venus and Mars in the same sign can balance their masculine and feminine energy very well.

🌬️One Virgo placement in the big three can really make someone so anal retentive which ironic bc Virgo rules the bowels… 👀👀👀👀 Even if they’re not like that about cleaning, some aspect in their life they’re very obsessive over… however I do notice it’s cleaning for many. I live with two Virgo risings and I get screamed at for leaving a fork in the sink, y’all scare me…

🌬️Going off of that, Cancer and Libra placements get a lot of crap for being passive aggressive, but y’all need to include Virgos in there. They are so passive aggressive it’s not even funny 😂

🌬️Asteroid Medusa (149) harsh aspects to personal planets can indicate s*xual assault.

🌬️I stg 12th house synastry is so fucking hard, I feel like I see this a lot in relationships that couldn’t get off the ground or where one person is obsessed with the other. I think that makes sense since the 12th house deals with illusions, unclarity, etc. It’s such a deep connection too, when it works it works but when it doesn’t, it really hurts.

🌬️The house that your Midheaven ruling planet falls into can tell you a lot about your career. My midheaven is Virgo which makes the ruler Mercury, and my Mercury falls in my 8th house. This house deals with a lot of taboo and intensity, which makes sense because I work on an inpatient psychiatric unit. I also want to be a psychologist. So there ya go lol.

🌬️Nessus in the 1st/aspects to the 1st can indicate ab*se in the native’s life, whether it’s giving or receiving. It’s very heavy energy. It can also indicate being into some freaky ass shit in the bedroom, alot of adult actors have this in their chart. 

🌬️Going off of that, Nessus aspects in a positive manner can make someone who wants to help victims of ab*se, whether they’ve been ab*sed or not themselves.

🌬️If a person has both Nessus and Dejanira in their chart, they may have been a victim of ab*se and maybe ab*sive towards others. With this played out in a more positive manner, it can make someone who was a victim of ab*se want to help other victims. ^^^

🌬️Mutable risings really are chameleons when it comes to their appearance. They can manage to make themselves look like completely different people, i.e. Lady Gaga, Kim Kardashian.

🌬️Algol 26° Taurus aspects to NN can make an individual very stoic and able to handle chaos & negative situations well. 

🌬️Prominent Virgo/Mercury placements tend to pick at their skin and enjoy things like popping pimples and stuff lol. 

🌬️Asteroids Messalina (545), Swindle (8690), Sirene (1009), Tantalus (2102), and Lie (26955) aspecting Mercury and/or in the 3rd house can indicate someone who’s very good at lying and manipulating others. 

🌬️Asteroid Sappho (80) in women/feminine people and Asteroid Ganymed (1036) in men/masculine people having harsh aspects to NN or personal planets can indicate LGBT+ people who heavily struggle with figuring out their sexuality (more so than usual lol). 

🌬️I have Asteroid Achilles (588) conjunct my North Node, and that’s the asteroid of where we’re most vulnerable and where our weaknesses are. I feel like that makes sense for me... lol. I tend to let other people tell me how to live my life, and struggle with making decisions for myself. I also have it in the 8th and I tend to struggle with my sexuality. (Kind of a part 2 to the previous bullet?) I also have it in Cancer and I have mommy issues LMAO. I guess this one’s more of a self observation...

I know this isn’t a crazy long post but it feels good to be back lol!

[valyrfia]

hi i came here from thearchercore where they said that you think there seem to be friendship cliques forming around the paddock as of late like carlando vs. lestappen. i've seen these divides between fans but what makes you think there's also that divide between drivers?

I wouldn't call them friendship cliques. More....workplace alliances regarding the way F1 is going and the way F1 should go.

(Full disclaimer. This is a theory of grid dynamics that's been brewing for a little while in my head and I've only really bounced it off people in dms so far, so feel free to critique or refine it.)

Now, why would these two camps clash? Apart from interpersonal reasons (power struggles at any of the teams for example, I think any of the drivers listed racing or PR would resent being labelled as the team's n2 driver), F1 itself as a sport is at a crossroads. We're seeing the obvious effect of DTS in popularising the sport and making these athletes world-famous. In the past, only the world champions really became world-renowned. Now, most drivers are massive social media stars, or even proper A-list celebrities in their own right (Daniel at the Met Gala, for example). This one one hand is brilliant for the sport, because it brings more attention and eyes, and F1 becomes far more popular than it ever has been in the past. Liberty media especially is fond of this, as it brings in more profit for them.

However, in a lot of ways quintessential aspects of racing are lost via appealing to the masses. We see this in the removal of traditional purpose-built tracks in the calendar to make way for street races, in team line ups prioritising the PR-friendliness of a driver much more than before. The question of can the individual personalities of these drivers be sold is now a much bigger factor when considering a line up now than it was even ten years ago.

Since the question of racing vs. PR is raging in F1 in general right now, I think there's natural battle lines being drawn up in the paddock at the moment, that seem to fall along drivers which prioritise racing results over PR, and drivers that rely on PR/sponsors to boost their image without the racing results to necessarily back it up. Let's call them the racing clique vs. the PR clique for simplification.

Furthermore, I think these battlelines are drawn between teammates more often than not. So for example, I'd say Oscar tends to fall into the racing clique, Lando the PR clique (because let's be frank, his level of hype in British media especially WITHOUT a grand prix win is a little ridiculous). Likewise, if we consider our once and future RBR teammate pair, Max is the racing, Daniel the PR.

Ferrari is a little trickier because Charles is a PR mastermind and plays the PR game well in order to manipulate public perception about him. However, I will say that above all Charles has a fair estimation of his own abilities, an incredible racing IQ, and a sharp hunger to win that shines through despite the scrupulous Ferrari PR training (lest we forget the origin of the Il Predestinato name). For this reason, I think I place him in the racing camp. Considering the way that the Sainz camp uses leaks, well-timed sympathy posts, and Carlando to boost the public perception of Carlos's racing ability, I would place Carlos in the PR camp.

There are also other natural flash tensions between these people, but from Lando and Daniel distancing themselves from Max post his Vegas derogatory comments (@tsarinablogs has written some good thinkpieces on this), to the Ferrari civil war (as currently being chronicled by @thearchercore, along with some pretty good evidence as to McLaren trying to copy Ferrari's contract renewal hype, which further puts Lando and Charles into conflict). I don't think the happy go lucky Landoscar dynamic will survive McLaren being a competitive car, especially if Oscar wins a grand prix before Oscar.

There are faultlines and flashpoints forming in the paddock, and I think that especially with the incoming silly season, this question of PR vs. racing when picking drivers will be thrown into haut relief and that'll serve to only heighten the natural and/or pre-existing tensions between these two different groups of people.

[waywardsou2]

Drunk!Logan X Drunk!MaleReader Part 4

I really think I should change the title since they haven't been drunk for the last 5 parts but oh well it's stuck now

Summary: You and Logan have been able to move past all that has happened, and slowly you two are becoming closer. Maybe the quicker than the two of you believe at first

Word Count: 2.9k+

Tags: fluff, friendly fighting, almost a confession

After your late night meeting you and Logan attempted to be civil. The unease between the two of you had disappeared but you still felt unsure about where you stood with him.

He was compassionate but he was like that with everyone at the mansion. His anger and standoffish attitude was a stark contrast to his compassionate moments. Logan wasn't an asshole, but he wasn't the easiest guy to get along with. These two personality traits of his clashed but someone how balanced him at the same time.

The two of you nodded at each other as you passed in the halls. You sometimes visited him between classes but not often. You were making an effort to try and get yourself out there but it was all new to you. And you still didn't want to get in anybody's way or cause any problems. The habit of acting like you didn't exist for other people convenience was a hard one to break. But Logan's words had really hit where it mattered and you were trying to take it on board.

What he said about everyone having at least one person to stick by was something you thought about often. And you guessed that you chose Logan. It wasn't unexpected perse but more of a risk. Because you didn't know if he would choose you back. In your head it was like an unrequited friendship...but he had approached you first. So maybe it wasn't unrequited? You didn't know. And it hurt your head to think about it too much.

Logan was glad to see you around more often. Not ignoring him anymore. He didn't know why it bothered him so much but it just did. And he was glad that you didn't seem so sullen around the halls. You were by no means happy go lucky or bubbly...not at all. But he did notice a change. You held your head a little higher. You went out of your way to say hello to the kids that passed by you. Even bringing coffee to Storm and Scott during their lessons.

You brought him a "coffee" once as well at the break between his last lessons of the day. The coffee was in fact whiskey disguised in a coffee mug and he was quite surprised when you handed it to him with a finger pressed silently to your lips. You didn't bother to stick around. But he understood the sentiment behind the gesture. The change was evident in and of itself. He wasn't going to push you. He knew how hard you were trying already.

One night, a sleepless night like usual, you were out in the garden again. This time wandering around by the orchard towards the back of the school. The trees weren't in bloom yet but their leaves were green and full of life so you knew it wouldn't take long. You were tired, you felt exhausted but your brain was wired which made your body buzz. How those two things worked you didn't know, they just did. Maybe it was because the fatigue had set in really badly and your body was overcompensating with adrenaline. Probably not a good sign but like every other night you ignored it.

From behind you you heard a twig snapping and you turned to see Logan walking towards you in the moonlight. You hoped he would come see you again at night but he hadn't since that evening.

Logan looked at you as he walked with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He watched as you turned to look at him. You arms resting on the fence dividing the properties.

"Hey" you called softly

"Can't sleep?" He asks in response

"Yup, thinking about too much I guess. Too...pent up" you say sighing

"About what?"

You tapped your nose "That's for me to know" you say cheekily but it's half hearted, 'and you to find out' you finish the phrase in your head. You didn't like it when he pried. But a small part of you wished he did. So you would have an excuse to tell somebody about what was on your mind. But considering the first time he'd done that it ended in disaster, he didn't ask.

He let out a small laugh, the type that only goes out your nose in one puff of breath.

Logan joins you on the fence. The two of you stand in silence together as the wind makes the trees rustle and your hair being pushed to the one side, your fringe being pushed off your head.

Logan's cowlicks remained umoved as the wind continued to blow.

You watched him as his eyes flowed over the branches of trees in front of you. He was rushing the view before him.

His brown eyes were beautiful in the moonlight, lighter than normal in contrast to the blue light that the moon gave off. In the sunlight they were like whiskey but in the moonlight they were like tigers eye jemstones. Deep and rich with hints of gold, only revealing itself in certain lights.

They were breath taking. All of his feature were. His curly brown hair, his mutton chops that dulled the sharpness of his jaw but framed his face. Their was a tiredness to his face that outweighed the boyish charm his face still held. You didn't know much about Logan's past. But you could tell that he had been through enough to age him years more than he was.

Logan turned his head and caught you staring.

"The view is in front of us, bub"

You blink and look away, staring far into the distance instead. You sigh and cursed yourself self for getting distracted. What was wrong with you?

Suddenly Logan nudge you in the side with his elbow "C'mon, let's spar for a bit"

"Now? Won't that wake everyone?"

"Not in the danger room it won't"

He smirks at you and pushes away from the fence walking back towards the mansion. After a moment's hesitation you follow him

The two of you walk through the manor, passing no one on your way, taking the elevator down to the war room and down the hall to the Danger room. The flashy X door turns and opens and the two of you step inside. Logan fiddles with the computer for a moment until the room transforms into a forest landscape. The trees are corporal to the touch. It was incredible.

You would have to ask Hank someday how he did it.

Logan walks away from the computer as it disguises itself in the landscape it created. He turns to face you and pulls off his jacket discarding it by a tree which he marks with a single claw scratch.

You roll your neck trying to get the kinks out of it, knowing your head will have to be on a swivel with Logan.

He purposefully picked a landscape that he would be more accustomed to. You’d lived in the city all your life, even when you were shunned you stayed in the slums on the streets. Skulking in back alleys. You knew the concrete jungle. Not the real one

Logan cracks his knuckles flexing his fingers as he protracts his claws.

You watch as the skin in between his knuckles splits open, you think about how painful that must be for him. You cringe internally.

"You ready bub?"

"Yeah, bub. Just don't go easy on me. I'm not as fragile as you might think"

He smirks and gets down low. You roll up the sleeves of your flannel and bring your arms up into a defensive position.

He makes the first move. Running at you full speed, you counter by sliding between his legs, he attempts to stab you as you go down but misses. You jump up and give him a light kick in the back.

He turns to you and growls though the smirk hasn't left his lips.

He lunges for you again this time making a fake right and then spinning left to slash at you. You doge out of the way of his attack but he nick's your arm. The not too deep gashes appear and disappear on your arm.

"Is that all you got?" You goad him, an almost flirtatious tone to your voice.

Both of you were becoming hot and bothered as you fought. The sweat dripped off his face as it soaked through his tank top, sticking it to his chest. You had pulled off your flannel at some point and discarded it by the same tree Logan had his leather.

You continue to leap for him, repaying his onslaught with your arms up for defence and your legs out to attack.

Logan is clearly in his element as he evades your futile attempts at attacks. You hadn't been able to land a worthwhile blow yet but he hadn't knocked you down either.

Logan was dodging behind trees, swinging from low branches and kicking off the trunks to give him a height-advanced attack. He's fast and it takes all your concentration to turn and counter his attacks.

At one point he disappears from sight and you look around frantically. Panting hard from the half hour you are sure has passed by.

You turn looking this way and that but in the split second you face your back to him Logan leaps at you and knocks you to the ground. The force of his body weight slamming into yours sent you to the leaf strewn ground with a hard thud.

He stood over you as you tried to jump up. Holding a set of claws to your face

You keep your hands up, breathing hard as he breathed equally as hard over you. The two of you stay there for a while. Logan isn't continuing the fight but you aren't ready to give up.

Logan was right a fight was a good idea but now you were pent up in other ways. Every time Logan had pushed you around or you had countered his attacks the touches sent shivers down your spine amongst the warmth that flooded your body from the exercise.

You were enjoying Logan's company but maybe more than just as a good sparring partner. You had to admit that Logan was pretty easy on the eyes. And not too bad looking disheveled from the exercise either.

More than once you had caught yourself looking at his toned arms and tight chest. And not just because he happened to be attacking you with full force.

But Logan had been noticing the same things about you. Each time you managed to land a punch. Even if it was weak he felt pride and even some joy in the fact that he could finally spar with someone he didn't have to hold back with.

Your hair was darker than usual and flat to your head. Your body was almost as tonned as his and he started to understand why he got so many looks whenever he wore something semi tight.

You were quite handsomely built. Not that he let that distract him.

Ok maybe it did a little bit. He wondered what you would look like with your shirt off. He hoped that maybe if he ran you around enough you would over heat and take it off.

His heart had skipped a beat when you took your flannel off to inadvertently show your arms off.

As he stood over you he panted watching the way your eyes flicked over his body. He was waiting for you to concede. Not making you give up but giving you the option.

You took the third option. You grabbed the arm pointed at you and pulled with all your might. You brought your foot up and pushed into his stomach. Using the momentum to lift him up and over your head and onto his back. You scrambled onto him to hold him down.

You might just win this fight.

You allow all your body weight to push him into the fake earthen ground. Holding his hands by his head so he couldn't scratch you and keeping your legs squeezed against his waist so he couldn't move his hips too much. You didn't want him pulling a move on you.

It was your turn to look down at him now.

And damn did he look good in this position

Logan was inclined to agree. He swallowed hard as he looked up into your face. Now that he was closer he could see the light stubble that was growing across your jaw. The specks of hair on your cheeks and above your upper lip.

It gave you that edge to your look and he found it quite attractive.

You watched as his eyes twitched as he looked at your face. Moving his eyes only as far as they needed to go to scan your face.

"Do I win?" You ask cockily a smirk being pulled into your face

The two of you pant roughly and it takes him a minute to respond.

"Dunno, are you finished bub? Or do you wanna go a round two?"

This conversation was beginning to sound less like sparring and more like something else.

The adrenaline from this fight was melting away any lack of confidence you had. Replacing it with stoic triumph and gall.

"I bet you'd like that wouldn't you. Be able to top me for real if I was tired out from another round"

The words left your mouth but as you said them you heard them echo in your head and you felt a warmth creep up your neck that had nothing to do with the sparing.

This was getting out of hand and you were starting to question your choices. You let go of Logan and stood up. Stepping away from him.

He has the same slight scowl in his face as he always does but you thought you saw a hint of disappointment in his eyes.

Logan was indeed disappointed. Not only in the space you had created between the two of you but how your bravado from before suddenly withered away like a flower doused with poison.

He watched as you turned away and walked to pick up your flannel and he followed. He wasn't going to let you walk off on him this time. Especially when something was going on now.

He had seen that glint in your eyes even if it was brief. Something was happening here and he was going to confront you about it.

He realised now why you allured him so much, why he was desperate to keep track of you after that night at the bar. Hell why he had followed you to that barnin the first place.

Yes alright he admits it he followed you.

As you bend over to scoop up your jacket and hand Logan's back to him you turn to see him inches from your face.

In surprise you take a step back and bump into the tree.

He leant forward and put a hand on the trunk by your head and the other by your hip

"Why do you keep running from me?" Logan asks. His voice low.

His face is so close to yours you could have counted the individual hairs of his mutton chops.

You swallowed and he watched as your Adams apple bobbed with the movement.

"You can let people in you know. It sure as hell ain't easy, I know."

You had no idea why Logan was so close. Why was he confronting you like this again? Why were his eyes were the prettiest thing you had ever seen?

You startled yourself with that thought and had to look away, turning your head to the side. But then you were startled once more as his calloused hand pulled at your chin softly turning your head back to face him.

Your eyes widen as you look at him. A somber tenderness in your voice. Like you were a lost child or an injured creature.

And maybe you were. A mutant with a dark past could be likened to that of a downed bear.

"I told you. I can't get close to people"

He cocked his head and let go of your chin

"You seem pretty close to me. And you didn't seem to unhappy about me joining you outside either. That's more than anyone else here has done"

You press your back harder against the tree as he moves into your space even more. All the while without touching you.

"...sometimes there are exceptions" you whisper as you continue to look at his eyes. He was so close you could see your own reflection in them. It was confronting.

He was confronting. He was standing in your space and you were letting him. This time he didn't even have to hold you to keep in place. Given the choice you wouldn't have moved anyway.

Logan's eyes flicked down to your lips and back up again. He could smell the deep rich tones in your scent this close. The salt and the earth mixed with your musk from all the training. He watched as your eyes glistened in the artificial light from the danger room.

He studied every inch of your face like it was a master piece crafted by Michelangelo himself. And to Logan you were. As detailed as the marble he carved but as hardy as it too. Almost impenetrable on contact.

"Am I your exception?" Logan asks bringing his face closer to yours and lowering his voice even more. The bass of his tone mixed with the quietness of voice.

"Because I think your mine"

Logan knew now you were something special to him. Like human magnetism that pulled him towards you. Even if he wanted to pull away he couldn't. He should have noticed when you first joined the team but he only fully understood now.

And you understood why you sought his attention and his approval at first. Logan inspired you as a hero and as a person. But it was so much more than that, he was alluring and too hard to stay away from.

That's why you had to leave that night, to drink away any and all feelings. Because in the end they all came back to Logan.

"Just let me in, please" he whispered. His breath hitting your lips as he spoke

Oh yes I am being that bitch. You guys are going to have to wait for part 6 for me to get to juicy stuff. I am going to drag this out as long as possible hahah!

Part 6 is here! (finally)

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

thanks for you request!! I’m SO SO SO sorry it took me so long to complete, there has been so many edits and rewrites and start overs but anyways, here is the final product, I’m praying it doesn’t disappoint. my motivation has not been there lately… anyways I gave it a go, hope you enjoy 🤍🤍

title: the hawthorne with the green eyes

pairing: jameson hawthorne x (first person) reader

synopsis: your avery’s best friend and she’s suddenly been thrown into a world that isn’t her own and she needs you… but in going to support your best friend, you don’t expect a certain someone to take you interest

warnings: mild swearing and mentions of the reader having a dead father

a/n: this is set mid the first inheritance games book, timelines may clash a little but work with me please 😭😭

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @heartwithsimplenotes @lxvebelle @xoxo-vee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual

“I go on holiday for two weeks and of course that’s when everything blows up,” I exclaimed over the phone.

Avery was down the other end. I’d practically just stepped foot back in my house after fourteen glorious days in Europe and just about had time to fling my suitcase to the corner of my room before I straight away called her. How did I miss everything?! Pretty much as soon as the plane touched down back in America my phone practically blew up with messages and calls and news alerts. Suddenly my best friend’s face was all over TV and I had a billion DMs from people I’d never even talked to before.

“Timing is impeccable as always,” Avery laughed.

“Tell me everything,” I said.

Screw jet lag, this was way more important. We had the longest conversation I think I’ve ever had in my whole lifetime. She told me all about the will of this mysterious Tobias Hawthorne and the people involved. She explained how she’d been flown all the way out to Texas and was now required to live in Hawthorne house for at least a year where basically the whole family resided. Including four of Tobias’s scarily hood looking and intelligent grandsons.

“I can’t lie, this all sounds like it’s been plucked right out of a novel,” I said.

“42.6 billion dollars,” she confirmed, “what gets more fictional than that?”

“Ave this is crazy,” I replied, eyes as wide as saucepans.

“I can’t believe it,” she responded with a long sigh.

“You’re literally a billionaire,” I murmured. Saying it out loud made it even more real, even more shocking.

“I never thought I’d hear anyone say that out loud,” she said, then she sighed again,“I just can’t work out why I inherited it, I mean over his family it doesn’t make sense.”

“Well what did his grandsons have to say?” I asked.

“One thinks it’s a game of sorts, like a puzzle,” she explained, “their grandfather used to give them puzzles when they were younger and he thinks I’m the final one.”

“Are you okay?” I questioned suddenly, feeling guilty I hadn’t asked her right away,

“Yeah I’m fine,” she exhaled, “I’m a billionaire right?”

“No, I mean are you really okay?” I clarified, “because if it were me I know I wouldn’t be.”

“I think I’m okay,” she replied, hesitating a little.

“Avery,” I sang in an accusing tone.

She laughed a little and then, “I don’t know how to feel about any of this,” she sighed, “god I wish you were here.”

“Then I’ll come,” I blurted out, the instinct too prominent to ignore.

“What?” she gaped, as I pictured her with a hanging jaw.

“I’ll come to wherever you are, seen as you can’t come to me,” I replied, “that is if you want me to.”

“Of course I do,” she said, “but that’s a long trip for you and-“

“I don’t care about any of that,” I interrupted her before she went off on a selfless tangent, “seeing you is going to make whatever I have to do to get there worth it.”

“You’re an angel, a real life angel,” she whispered and I could hear the smile in her voice.

I laughed, “see you as soon as possible, I have a plane ticket to book.”

“Wait,” she told me suddenly, making me jump a little, “I’m paying.”

“Avery-“ I said, attempting to begin to decline.

“No, you can’t even decline because I’m a billionaire,” she snapped before I could even say no, “heck I could buy you the whole plane if I wanted.”

“You don’t have to do any of that,” I pressed further.

“Let me buy the ticket, it’s the least I can do,” she said, “and I’m getting Oren to pick you up from the airport.”

My mind flicked back to her explanation, the name sounded familiar. It took a few minutes for it to finally come to me, “Isn’t that bodyguard?”

“He’s the only one I’d trust with your life,” Avery explained.

“God Ave, you make it sound like I’m going to get shot,” I attempted to joke.

“I really need to be cautious at the moment,” she said, warning in her voice, “this whole billionaire business is not as glamorous as it seems.”

“Oh Avery,” I murmured sympathetically, “I’ll be there to hear every last drop in a few hours, okay?”

“Thank you,” she said, he tone thick with gratitude, “you have no idea how much this means to me.”

***

Next thing I knew I was on a first class flight to Texas at three AM in the morning. I’d never flown first class before. It’s a shame I didn’t get really experience it, seen as I fell asleep for the entire flight, still exhausted from my previous travels. For the parts I was awake, it was beautiful and such a lovely smooth ride. When I’d finally made my way through passport control and grabbed my luggage I was in search of Oren. Avery had text me the number plate of the car ready to pick me up. Seemed she’d forgotten to mention it was a limo I was being picked up in. That information alone would’ve sorted me out just fine as there was only one limo at the pick up station. I walked up to the window and tapped on the blackout glass. It rolled down all of a sudden, making me jump. A man sat in the front, a flat serious expression on his face.

“Identification,” he said before I could even get a word out.

Identification? What the hell did that mean?

“y/n l/n,” I guessed, my name seeming like a viable option for a response.

“Physical identification,” he clarified.

“Can’t you see my face?” I asked, not really knowing what else he meant by physical identification.

“Do you want to get in this car?” he deadpanned.

Great! I’d gotten on the wrong side of Mr. Smiley now.

I wracked my brain for what he could mean by physical identification, “do you want my passport or something?”

“That’ll do,” he nodded sharply.

I fumbled around in my bag like an idiot until I find my passport. I handed it over as soon as I could.

He took it swiftly and analysed it for a good few minutes, “okay jump in.”

“Are you Oren?” I asked, swinging the back door open and putting my suitcase down by the seats.

“Most certainly,” he replied, as I slid in.

“Avery mentioned you,” I clarified, worried he might he starts speculating I’m an enemy imposter dressed up as Avery’s friend coming to commit a murder.

He gave me a thoughtful look as he began to pull out of the pick up station, “all good things I hope?

“Very good things,” I reassured him.

He smiled to himself, almost looking touched, “that’s nice to hear.”

We fell into an awkward silence. There was nothing more necessarily to be said but something hung in the air waiting to be said, but I don’t think either of us could work out what. Thankfully for me, it was Oren who broke the silence first.

“It is also nice Avery has a friend coming to stay with her but I hope you understand you won’t be able to have your normal coffee and catch up anymore, Avery’s life is so different now,” he said, his tone authoritative and serious.

“I know,” I nodded, “I understand how dangerous it all is. I’m just here to make sure she’s okay.”

“That’s very nice of you,” he replied, “you are a good friend.”

“This is the bare minimum,” I shrugged lightly, “and I know she’d do the same for me if ever I needed it.”

And that was true. She’d do anything for me in a heartbeat. Avery needed me right now, so that’s exactly where I’d be.

***

The rest of the car journey was relatively smooth. I conversed briefly some more with Oren, having the standard school and home life, getting to know me talk. I didn’t mind his company at all, he was a genuine man with a kind heart. I could tell as much from just that hour in the car. When we finally pulled up, sunrise is on the horizon. The house was a phenomenon.

I got out of the car and just stared up at it, my jaw dropped in pure shock. The exterior was huge and it looked like a castle crossed with a Manor House crossed with the worlds biggest mansion. Everything about it screamed prestigious. It reminded me of a historical palace I once toured when I was younger.

“It’s quite something, isn’t it,” Oren smiled, handing me my luggage.

“Oh thanks,” I nodded, “and yeah, woah. Avery owns the whole of this?”

“Every acre,” he nodded.

“Someone needs to pinch me, so I know I’m not dreaming,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

“It truly is,” Oren agreed.

I stared up at the building again and attempt to take in the grounds. It’s so vast I can’t even see all of it. It expands for what seems like forever. I was so lost in thought when my name was shouted that I nearly didn’t hear it altogether.

“Y/N!” shouted a voice. It could only be one voice.

“AVERY!” I screamed, whipping my head around.

I spotted my best friend and suddenly discarded all of my luggage, it somehow seeming irrelevant at this time. We sprinted towards one another as fast as possible and collided. I flung my arms around her and squeezed her as tightly as humanly possible, it’s a wonder I didn’t suffocate her. She did the same, holding me so close that I heard the uneven thumping of her heart in her chest. I inhaled the comforting scent of her perfume as I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling at home in her arms. I didn’t even realise I was crying until we pull away from each other.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she laughed, tears also rolling down her cheeks.

“You better believe it girl,” I smiled, “thanks for the plane ticket, first class is gorgeous.”

“Get used to it,” she told me, with a little wink.

“No, I’m not becoming a gold digger friend,” I shook my head, putting a palm out, “I refuse.”

“We’ll see,” she said, with a graceful shrug.

“Nope,” I shook my head stubbornly.

“Let me show you the house,” she said, veering the subject elsewhere.

“I know you said it was big but you didn’t mention it was this big,” I gaped, my eyes glued to the structure.

She smiled sheepishly, “big was a bit of an understatement on my part.”

“You think?” I laughed, still trying to drink up the details.

As we walked up to the doorstep I became aware of movement coming from behind us, I turned around to see Oren walking around two meters behind us. Quickly I whipped my head back around to Avery, to avoid awkward eye contact with him.

“Does he follow you everywhere?” I asked, dropping my voice low.

“Most places,” she shrugged in reply.

I raised my eyebrows.

“It’s not as creepy as it seems, trust me,” she said, “he’s very subtle.”

“Okay,” I replied unsurely, tempted to turn around again.

“Just don’t think about it,” she told me as we approached the door.

I tried to, but it was impossible not to be aware of someone tracking your every move. I began to wonder if I’d been microchipped with cameras and microphones yet. Avery grabbed the door handle and turned it, pushing the door open to reveal what looked like magic.

It seemed even larger on the window with its towering central staircase and large windows. The corridors seemed endless and so did the rooms within them. The floorboards were wooden and glossy, clearly expensive. The carpeted parts were velvet, they must’ve been. I wouldn’t have been surprised to discover that everything was embroidered with some sort of gold laced trim. A large, intricately crafted chandelier hung roundly from the ceiling, glistening with crystals. It was mesmerisingly beautiful. And my best friend owned it all.

“Ave…” I trailed off, at a loss for words.

“I know,” she nodded, beaming at me, “come in.”

“I feel like if I walk on the floors I’ll scratch them or something,” I scoffed.

“Don’t be stupid,” she grinned, yanking my arm so I practically fell in, “where should we go first?”

“Shouldn’t we pick up a map or something?” I joked, “is there a tour guide who can show us around?”

She giggled, “I’m your certified map and tour guide today.”

“Lucky me,” I winked, “where to first, oh noble one.”

“How about my room?” Avery suggested.

“Yes! I need a room tour!” I replied, excitedly.

“This way,” she said, grabbing my hand and cocking her head towards the large central staircase, that split into two.

***

I’d thought the house was beautiful but I couldn’t believe Avery’s room. Heavenly was an understatement. She had a queen sized bed sat in the middle of the room, that looked so comfy just staring at it made me sleep. She had a chest of drawers and matching vanity and a massive bookshelf that I was green with envy of. I noticed two bifold doors on one side of the room, which confused me.

“Open them,” she grinned, as if reading my mind.

Slowly I curl my hand aground the edge and pried the two doors apart. I almost fainted at the sight. A walk in wardrobe. Of course I’d seen them in the movies but never in real life, in someone’s house. It was such a massive wardrobe, it reminded me of that scene from Barbie, where her wardrobe seemed endless.

“No way!” I gaped at her.

“Way!” she winked.

There were of course other species of furniture, like shelves, a desk and chair, a beanbag, bedside tables, an armchair and so much more. Anything could ever want or need was in that room. Like the huge TV or the mini fridge. There was a small door on the other side, which I presumed lead to an en-suite, as I caught a glimpse of bathroom tiles inside as the door was slightly ajar.

“It’s definitely an upgrade from the car,” Avery exhaled.

I looked at her sadly. I’d offered her to live with us for a while so many times, but she declined each and every time. I thought it was because she didn’t want to be a burden. She never deserved the life she had, she deserved this now. After all she’d been through, all she’d lost, all she’d worked for, she deserved this. And secretly I was glad a random dead billionaire left her in his will.

“Don’t give me that look,” she said quietly.

“What look?” I asked.

“The one where your eyes go all sad,” she murmured.

“My eyes go sad?” I said, almost laughing.

“You know what I mean,” she rolled her eyes, then sighed, “I wanted to live in my car okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled, unconvinced.

No one wants to live in their car, it’s something you’re forced to do when your home is no longer liveable. But I didn’t press the matter, those days were long gone now. Now she had this. She pulled me down onto the mattress beside her. We laid down staring up at the ceiling, my head resting on hers. We didn’t say anything for a good while and the silence was comforting, it was nice. It allowed us to breathe a little.

“This house is full of secret passageways,” Avery murmured after a while.

“You’re kidding,” I said.

“Nope,” she grinned.

“This just gets more and more like a mystery movie by the second,” I replied, wide eyed.

“I know,” she said, “I’m finding it a little mental.”

“A little?” I scoffed.

She laughed lightly, airily. It was a pretty laugh but not a proper one, if I’d been looking at her face, I was sure that the smile wouldn’t have quite reached her eyes.

I say up and she followed suit, so I looked into her eyes and asked her, “are you really okay?”

There was a long pause. Hesitation. It told me everything already but still I waited for her to respond.

“No,” she sighed. It surprised me that she said that. Avery wasn’t one to admit she wasn’t okay very easily, not even to herself. So the fact that she was admitting that to me out loud spoke volumes. She was really not okay. I didn’t say anything right away and let her carry on.

“This is a lot,” she exhaled, “and I know it makes me sound so selfish. I have everything and anything I could ever want but it’s just so much to adjust to.”

“You don’t sound selfish, you sound human,” I reassured her. She needed to know that her feelings were normal, if I were in her position I know I’d be a mess. But she was here, holding it all together or trying to at least.

“I have a helicopter, a freaking helicopter and there’s all these interviews I have to do, functions I have to attend,” she exclaimed, “I don’t know what to do with myself half the time. I mean it’s so obvious I don’t fit in, I wasn’t born into all of this.”

She took a sharp breath in and I decided I needed to let her rant and get these things off of her chest.

“School is like a living hell, most people hate me,” she groaned, “private school is not for me, I’ve got no friends there and everyone seems to be either shooting me weird looks or whispering my name. And it shouldn’t affect me and I know it’s pathetically stupid but it really does.”

“Hey,” I soothed, rubbing up and down her arms, “kids are stupid and you know they’re just jealous. Besides you won’t be in school for that much longer anyway. One, two years with these people and then you never have to see them again. And you’ve only just joined recently, there’s time to make friends if you want to. And I’m only a call away, no matter where you are, what time it is, we have phones for a reason.”

“Yeah,” she blew out a breath, “yeah, okay.”

“You can carry on,” I told her, “just get the weight off of your shoulders.”

“I don’t want to complain, it feels wrong,” she sighed.

“Nu-uh,” I snapped wagging my finger, “you’re a human with feelings which means you have every right to complain so shoot girl.”

“Thank you, really,” she said, her big hazel eyes deep with gratitude.

“Stop thanking me for doing the bare minimum, this is like getting you a spoon from the cutlery drawer when you ask,” I said, “now tell me, what else?”

“My life is apparently constantly at risk, I mean I have bodyguard who is standing outside this door right now,” she replied, “I could be killed. Literally killed. And people want to do that to me and that’s so hard-“

Her voice broke and she struggled ro pull herself together, despite how hard she was trying. I instinctively enveloped my arms around her and pulled her tight to my chest

“I’m sorry Avery,” I murmured, “that’s awful, absolutely awful. But you have Oren and you know he’s going to take good care of you, you have whole teams of people preventing that from happening.”

She mumbled an indecipherable response and let a few tears slip.

“And these stupid people aren’t making things any easier for me. All of them are so…” she trailed off, “I can’t find the right word to describe them. Grayson thinks I’m some sort of threat and I’ve inherited this money because I’m a scheming, lying, manipulative snake. Xander seems to live to confuse me, constantly throwing out weird phrases that just throw me off. Nash, well Nash is just very laid back, he doesn’t seem to care about me or my role in the will which is good, but I don’t like the way he looks at Libby. And Jameson…” she hesitated, “Jameson thinks I’m just a game, one left by his grandfather. And the worst part is I dont even know what I’m here and I can’t figure it out.”

“Yet,” I replied.

She titled her head, confused, “What?”

“I can’t figure it out yet,” I explained.

“That’s patronising,” she said, “are you trying to take me back to first grade?”

“It might help you,” I shrugged.

“First grade?” she laughed.

“An open mindset,” I clarified.

She doesn’t reply.

“These grandsons for the most part seem a bit snobbish if you ask me, you shouldn’t pay too much attention to them,” I said, “they’re not worth you at all. You’re not a snake, you’re not stupid, your sister isn’t a prize and you’re not a game. You know this, in here,” I press my palm on the left side of her chest, “don’t let them make you forget it.”

She smiled through glossy eyes,“what would I do without you?”

“Have a mental breakdown in the shower alone and pretend it’s all okay,” I guessed.

“I did that yesterday,” she told me.

“Damn it I didn’t get here fast enough,” I joked, my heart breaking at the thought of Avery sobbing all alone.

She cracked a weak smile, “you got here, you are here, that’s all I care about.”

“Just take a second and breathe, okay?” I said.!

“Breathing,” she replied. I could hear she was breathing in and out in a rhythmic, calming motion.

“Good, keep going,” I nodded in encouragement.

We fell into silence again but like most of our silences, neither of us felt discomfort. I let her breathe, I let her think, I let her have the moment to herself I know she’d felt to selfish to take since she got here.

“Better?” I asked after a while.

“Better,” she nodded her head.

“You’re going to get through this, it just all seems a lot right now because you’re not used to it and it’s all come at once,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she replied.

We wrapped our arms around each other, a warm hug acting as some sort of cocoon, excluding the outside world for mere moments. I breathed in her shampoo, the smell comforting. We stayed in each other’s arms for long time. We had both needed it.

“I’m really glad your here,” she whispered as we pull away.

“I’m glad I’m here too,” I told her.

***

“I still can’t believe you live here now,” I exhaled, the side of my cheek pressed on her head.

We’d gone back to talking, catching up on each other’s lives for a bit. It seemed we just never could stop talking. And it felt good.

“I know, it’s crazy,” she admitted, “me and Lib have just about got used to it.”

“Libby’s here? Now?” I asked excitedly.

Avery nodded.

“Please can we go and see her?” I asked, “I haven’t seen her in so long.”

“Of course,” she grinned, “I’m just going to ignore the fact that you love my sister more than you love me.”

“It’ll probably make you feel better,” I shrugged, teasing her slightly.

“Hey!” she laughed, slapping my arm lightly.

I’d forgotten how much I’d missed Avery’s company. She wasn’t just my best friend, she was part of me. Every time we were together I was just immediately elevated. I needed her.

“What? You said it,” I grinned, poking my tongue out.

“My best guess is that she’s baking in the kitchen, so we’ll look there first,” she explained.

“How comes she’s baking at nine in the morning?” I asked.

“She’s productive,” Avery shrugged.

I nodded as we exited her room. I followed Avery, presuming she would know where she was going. But after a labyrinth of corridors and a few smiling landmarks, I began to doubt her orienteering skill and decided we were lost.

“Ave I swear I’ve seen that suit of armour before,” I mentioned to her.

“There’s a suit of armour?” she asked.

“We’ve seen it like three times now,” I nodded, pointing to it.

She tilted her head and examined it, “we have not!”

“I’m telling you we definitely have,” I replied,

“You have walked past it four times actually,” a sudden voice said, making me jump out of my skin.

I turned around to see a boy coming up behind us. He was very tall, towering over both Avery and I. There was a bounce in his step and amusement in his voice, he was young, energetic and full of life. He had dark skin and a small grin planted on his lips. And there was a certain wistful sparkle in his eyes. I presumed he was one of the four grandsons, but I was trying to work out which one due to the descriptions Avery had given me.

“Have you been watching us?” Avery scoffed, arms folded,

“I just happened to notice you walking past four times,” the boy shrugged.

Avery narrowed her eyes at him, “why did you count?”

“I wanted to see how many tries it would take you until you realised you were lost,” he replied coolly.

“We’re not lost,” Avery insisted.

“Are you sure?” he chuckled, eyebrows raised.

“I call it non-purposeful wandering,” I piped up

He looked at me for the first time, his deep chocolate eyes meeting mine. His eyebrows now shuffled inwards and he tilted his head to the side, “I don’t recognise you.”

“I’m y/n,” I smiled, “I came to visit Avery.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he nodded, “did you only just arrive?”

“It was about an hour ago,” I shrugged in reply.

“Did you fly all the way out here?” he asked me.

“From Connecticut to Texas,” I confirmed with a short nod of the head.

“Now tell me,” he said, looking very serious, “do robots interest you?”

I side glanced at Avery and she subtly signalled for me to carry on conversation.

“I’ve never really thought about it before,” I said honestly.

“How have you lived your life without thinking about robots?” he gasped, looking somewhere between purely shocked and offended.

“I don’t know,” I replied, “should I start?”

“I’d strongly advise you to,” he said, “they’re most interesting.”

“Is that why you’ve got a singed eyebrow and oil on your sleeves?” I asked, not being able to suppress my mind’s curiosities.

“Observant,” he smiled.

“That’s what they say,” I replied awkwardly, knowing Avery would tease me about this later.

“Robots have a tendency to explode when you get them a bit wrong,” he explained, “if you can get past that, it’s great.”

“Explosions don’t really sound like my cup of tea,” I said, “but I suppose you never know until you try.”

“You have a good spirit,” he told me, “I think you would work well with robotics.”

“Thanks,” I replied, taking it as a compliment to mask my confusion over the whole conversation. I took him as someone who you just rolled with, no matter what. So that’s what I was attempting to achieve.

“Blueberry or lemon?” he asked me.

“Blueberry, no matter the context,” I answered without missing a beat.

“I like you,” he nodded, “Avery can we keep her?”

“For the time being,” she grinned, “unless she starts biting.”

“Can’t make any promises,” I winked then turned back to the boy, “you know your way around this place right?”

“Most of it, though I still discover a new secret passage way every now and then,” he shrugged, as if it were the norm to find secret passageways around your house.

“Do you know how we get to the kitchen?” Avery asked.

“And you said you’re not lost,” he teased her.

“She’s testing you,” I said,

“Is it because you got stuck non-purposefully wandering on your way there,” he smiled, using my precious wording,

“Precisely,” I nodded.

“Okay then,” he replied, “to get the kitchen you just need to follow these suits of armour and when they stop take two rights and walk down your closest set of stairs. You should find it there, if I’m not mistaken.”

My jaw hung slack, “you memorised that?”

“Sort of, thought I usually end up stumbling upon the kitchen by accident through a secret passage way,” he shrugged, “it’s an important room to locate.”

“I guess,” I agreed

He nodded, “Safe travels.”

“We’re not trekking across a desert,” I laughed.

“No,” he smiled, “this is much worse.”

And with that he turned and walked in the opposite direction. We watched him until he exited the corridor and went off elsewhere.

“That’s Xander,” Avery filled me in.

“The one who’s addicted to scones?” I asked, the blueberry or lemon question finally making sense.

“Yes, that’s him,” she confirmed.

“Yeah that figures,” I nodded, “I like him.”

“He’s nice, I mean he doesn’t act like he wants to kill me all the time so that’s a plus,” she said.

“Oh yeah, when do I get to meet the angel of a man who keeps wishing you death?” I grinned.

“Hopefully you won’t have to,” she grimaced

We finally made it to the kitchen, after a few wrong turns and a game of eeny-meeny-miny-mo. I spotted Libby from the doorway. She was piping vibrant blue icing, almost the colour of her hair, into a pink sponge cupcake. I snuck up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tightly squeezing her closer. She let out a small gasp in surprise.

“Guess who?” I murmured excitedly.

“Is this real or does someone have to pinch me?” she asked, the smile in her voice.

“It’s real,” I assured her.

I let go of her and she spun around, cupping my face in her palms.

“Y/n!” she beamed widely at me, brining me in for a hug, “hi love, it’s been a while, huh?”

“Too much of a while if you ask me,” I mumbled into her.

“Glad to see you again,” she smiled as we break apart. The unspoken ‘make sure my sister is okay’ running through her eyes.

“Me too,” I replied, silently reassuring her of the reason I was here.

“I’m starting to think you prefer my sister to me,” Avery scoffed, scooping a little buttercream onto her finger tip and popping it into her mouth

“Sometimes I do,” I replied mischievously.

“Hey,” she complained.

I stuck out my tongue in reply.

“Ooo please taste this,” Libby said, quickly grabbing a couple of cupcakes and handing one to both me and Avery.

“Well it’d be rude not to,” I grinned, taking one gratefully.

“It would,” she agreed as Avery broke the half of the bottom off of her cupcake and put it into of the icing to make her little cupcake sandwich.

I stared at her in disapproval, “you are a monster for doing that.”

“You’re just bitter because it’s the smartest way to eat a cupcake,” she replied.

“When you eat a cupcake you shouldn’t be analysing how you eat it you should just eat it how it is,” I exclaimed passionately. We’d had this fight many of times and I would never stop backing my corner.

“I don’t want icing smeared up my nose,” Avery defended, “and this is the best way to prevent that.”

I shook my head and took a bite of my cupcake, like a normal person. The flavours tantalised my tastebuds, teasing them to crave more. The cake itself was airy and light, not too dry but not too moist. It was the perfect cake to icing ratio and nothing was over sweet or too artificial. It was like heaven on my tongue. I’d really missed these.

“So…” Libby asked, nervously, “what do you think?”

“How do you do it?” I replied, taking another bite.

“Good?”

“That’s an understatement,” I told her, “is there fairy dust in this or something?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” a new person entered, cutting off whatever Libby’s reply was. His accent was definitely Texan and I looked up to my surprise to find an older looking man. Well not old at all, just older than me. I presumed he was in his twenties. He wore a cowboy hat, titled slightly to one side and from under it I noticed his brownish-blondish hair. He had hazel eyes and a sharp jawline but what stood out to me was his nose. He had a similar nose to Xander which gave him away to being another grandson, but which one?

“What are you doing here?” Libby asked, annoyance in her tone.

It surprised me. I had never heard Libby talk to anyone with any remotely negative connotation. I widened my eyes and looked to Avery who only shrugged in response.

“Coming to check up on you and your crazy cupcake baking obsession,” he explained, walking further into the room.

“I don’t need checking up on,” she grumbled, turning back to her piping bag.

“Oh I know that darlin’,” he smiled. It was the kind of smile that you don’t see often, the kind of smile that shows everyone else in that room that the person who is being smiled at is the other person’s whole world.

No one had ever smiled at me like that.

I scooted closer to Avery and whispered, “Are they…”

“I don’t know, I’m 99% sure but it’s not official,” she explained quickly.

“Oh okay,” I nodded.

We watched as they bickered, back and forth for a little bit, unsuppressed smiles on both of their faces. They meant something to one another, even if they didn’t know it yet. They continued to argue until the cowboy noticed my presence.

“Who’s the new one?” he asked, nodding at me

“New one? She has a name,” Libby said sharply.

“I’m y/n. Avery’s friend and Libby’s practically adopted little sister, nice to meet you,” I introduced myself.

“Am I even relevant anymore?” Avery sighed.

“Nope,” me and Libby grinned simultaneously.

“Nash,” he nodded, shaking my hand, “nice to meet you too.”

“We’re going to get going now,” Avery said, “I haven’t shown her the bowling alley yet.”

My eyes widened, “bowling alley?”

“Catch you guys later,” she grinned, pulling me out of the kitchen.

“You have a bowling alley in your house,” I said, still in shock, “why didn’t you tell me already?”

“When’s the best time to bring up the fact you have a bowling alley, I mean it’s not exactly normal conversation,” she told me.

“Okay fair enough,” I responded, as we start walking again, “so are we meeting everyone like it’s a parody of sorts?”

“Seems like it,” she sighed,

“Tour of the hottie Hawthorne’s,” I joked, spreading my arms out to reveal an invisible sign.

She giggled, “hottie?”

“Oh please, you can’t deny it, they’re all gorgeous so far,” I said.

She looked around cautiously, “they could be listening you know?”

“Oh well I’m sure they know,” I scoffed, “besides you’re telling me that you don’t find at least one of them attractive?”

“Moving on,” she said quickly, brushing over the subject, with pink-tinged cheeks.

“Are you blushing?” I asked her.

“No,“ she replied bluntly, “shut up.”

“You’re blushing,” I sang, “which one is it? Oh please tell me Ave!”

“None of them,” she insisted, digging her heals in.

“I don’t believe you,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her.

She replied, “that’s because you have trust issues.”

“No it’s because I know you’re lying,” I told her.

She didn’t reply.

“You better tell me fast because I will attempt to make a move on one of them at some point,” I warned her, “Nash is already out of the question because he’s Libby’s, so which ones yours? I’ll pick between the other two.”

She laughed. It was the first time since we’d met up that I’d seen her properly crack a smile, her eyes fully lighting up, “pick whoever you want, no one’s mine.”

“You might regret saying that later on,” I warned her.

“Doubt it,” she shrugged, “just be careful, okay? These people, this family… just be careful.”

“I will, promise,” I nodded, “so who’s on stage next in ‘let’s meet the Hawthorne brothers’.”

“It’s a surprise,” Avery said,

I smiled, “oooo how intriguing!”

We turned the corner and I noticed someone approaching. Avery did too, as I noticed her breathing sped up a little.

“Speak of the devil and I mean the literal devil, here comes another,” she muttered.

Approaching us was a blonde. Like his brothers, he was tall, but not as tall. He was dressed in what looked to be a highly expensive suit and matching designer shoes. His face was serious and unemotional, like it was paralysed in a state of seriousness.

“Woah, hello jawline,” I mumbled, after catching a glimpse.

“Wait until he looks you in the eyes,” Avery murmured.

“Oh god he walks really fast,” I said quietly, as he approached closer and closer.

She grinned at me, “rich boy leg strides.”

I tried to smile but fail, “Why is my heart beating so fast?”

“He has that effect of people,” she shrugged, “intimidation.”

“Why does he look like he wants to kill me,” I said under my breath when he was about two meters away.

“That’s just his face,” she reassured me.

I began to ask another question, “Are-“

“Shut up,” Avery hissed and I understood why. The blonde had stopped infront of us and he was staring me up and down, as if he were scanning for some sort of hidden weapon I had.

“Who’s this?” Goldilocks snapped, his voice clearly portraying his dominance.

“A friend,” Avery replied curtly.

“A potential threat,” he said sharply.

Why did everyone in this place think I was some sort of axe-murderer. Was it common in Texas or something?

“She’s none of your business,” Avery grits through her teeth.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied walking away.

He hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, though I couldn’t work out if it was because he felt I was too below him or he just didn’t feel a need to. Whatever it was, it was clear that there was a tension between those two, but I decided not to bring it up yet.

“What’s he going to do? Research me?” I scoffed.

Avery shrugged as we continue walking, “probably.”

“You’re kidding!” I laughed.

“I wish I was,” she said, wiping the smile off of my face.

“So I take it he’s the one that hates you for breathing?” I clarified, mentally ticking him off of my list of what Hawthorne’s I had met and what ones I hadn’t.

“Yep,” she nodded, “that was Grayson.”

“Yeesh, his jawline looked dangerously sharp,” I winced.

“Better not get on the wrong side of it,” she winked.

“I think I already am,” I blew out a breath, “I mean if looks could kill…”

“Oh we’d both be long gone,” Avery giggled.

“I get the eye thing now,” I groaned rubbing my eyes, “god, ouch, it burns.”

“Doesn’t the piercing grey just give you a headache?” she asked.

“It really does, have you got aspirin?” I said.

She shrugged, “somewhere in the maze of a house.”

“Was he wearing a designer suit?” I was dying to ask.

“Always,” she nodded.

“You’re kidding, all the time?” I gaped.

She sighed, “All the time.”

***

We spent the rest of the day in various different places. I adored the library and the dance studio as well as the karaoke bar and swimming pool. These people had everything. But something was playing on my mind. I’d met three of the four Hawthornes, which meant there was still one to go. I hadn’t seen the other all day, but I had stumbled across his brothers another few times. I found it odd. Avery only shrugged when I asked her about it and presumed he was drunk somewhere. Avery and I had also convinced ourselves Grayson had a murder club, consisting only of himself, and we were the first on his hit-list. We figured if we went, we’d go together so it’d be alright.

Somehow, after touring not even a quarter of the house, we ended up back on her bed again, me catching her up on old school drama. I’d forgotten that she’d missed the break up of the century with an added cheating scandal from the girl with the guy’s brother.

“Hey I just need to run and find Libby a minute, I’ll be back,” she’d told me, after she’d received a text in her phone.

“Everything okay?” I checked.

“Fine,” she nodded once, “I’ll be back soon.”

But soon didn’t feel that soon. It was a little awkward sat in someone else’s bedroom without them. I didn’t know what to do with myself. After a while, I decided I should look for Avery. I opened the door and smacked into someone and almost toppled over.

“You should really watch you’re going, heiress,” the person said.

“Maybe you should too,” I scowled, looking up to meet a pair of alluring green eyes.

“You’re not Avery,” he replied, looking very confused.

“Gee, you’re observant,” I rolled my eyes, then suddenly felt a pang of guilt, “sorry, I tend to overreact when I’m pissed off.”

“A quality we share,” he grinned slightly.

“I wouldn’t call it a quality,” I said.

I stared at him properly, he was tall with dark, unruly hair. He had a similar bone structure than his brothers but his face was softer than Grayson’s, his features warmer.

“One man’s trash is another man’s treasure,” he smiled, a witty, mischievous smile, “Jameson Hawthorne.”

He extended a hand towards me and I took swiftly it. His grip was hard, strong I noted. Jameson, the brother I was yet to meet. And dare I say it, he was the best looking by far.

“So who are you?” he asked.

“I’m y/n,” I said, “I’m a friend of Avery’s, I’ve come to stay with her.”

“That’s nice of you,” he commented, a little awkwardly.

“It’s the least I can do,” I replied quietly.

He doesn’t say anything back but I don’t want him to. It was hard enough focusing on conversation when he was looking at me. He was gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. His whole face with was the picture of perfection. Symmetrical, but not harshly, it was more of a mellow, kind symmetry, that enhanced all of his features. His soft looking lips, his nice shaped nose and his eyes. God those eyes. They were a rich green like nature, glistening with intelligent thoughts.

“Well I suppose I’ll see you around then,” he said, pocketing his hands.

“I suppose you will,” I replied.

He walked away slowly and I realised that evening that my stomach fluttered whenever I thought about the Hawthorne with the green eyes.

***

That night I found it so hard to sleep. Avery was out in a mere few minutes but I couldn’t even shut my eyes. Tossing and turning and tossing and turning until I got so bored that I just slipped out of bed all together. I pulled a pair of socks on and left Avery’s room, beginning to wonder the dark hallway. I didn’t really think any of it through. Wandering in the dark, alone, in a house I didn’t know, surrounded by people I didn’t know.

“Midnight wandering are we?”

His voice made me jump but I didn’t let him see that. I turned around to see Jameson Hawthorne stood behind me. How long had he been there then? He looked so poised, so ready, like a big cat on the prowl. He needed to know I wasn’t his prey.

“Maybe,” I replied, a smile adorning my lips, “but even if I am I don’t know why that’s any of your concern.”

“Maybe I’m not concerned, just curious,” he said, “are you lost?”

“No,” I lied to myself and the world.

He waited a few beats.

“Maybe a little,” I smiled shyly, “this place is even harder the navigate in the dark.”

“Lucky for you I know it like the back of my hand,” he did, extending his hand towards me.

I stared at it, “do you want me to hold it or something?”

“No,” he shrugged, “I mean if you want to-“

“No,” I blurted out quickly, “not at all.”

He dropped his hand, a shadow of an expression I couldn’t read shifting across his face.

“Follow me then,” he said, shooting me a lopsided grin that I somehow manage to make out in the dark.

I walked beside him. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and slightly baggy pyjama pants. My cheeked heated up as I suddenly became horribly aware that I was dressed in my pyjama top reading ‘I need coffee’ and shorts decorated with cartoon coffee cups. I hoped Jameson wasn’t paying that much attention to me.

“So why are you awake?” he asked casually.

“I can’t sleep,” I replied bluntly. There wasn’t much more to it.

“Straight forward as that?” he said.

“Pretty much,” I shrugged, “why are you awake?”

“Can’t sleep,” he replied, with a small smile.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“Am I stealing your thunder?” he played along.

“Very much so,” I said, folding my arms across my chest, with a pointed stare laced with banter.

“My deepest apologies,” he exaggerated.

“Not accepted!” I exclaimed.

He grinned, then shoved his hands in his pockets, “Where do you want to go first?”

“Where would you like to take me?” I countered.

“I respect people who answer questions with questions,” he noted.

“Good because I do it far too often,” I told him.

“We’re going to the games room,” he announced.

“Why?” I questioned, like a whiny child.

“Because it is where I’d like to take you,” he shrugged delicately, before picking up the pace with longer leg strides.

I struggled to keep up as I asked, “this isn’t going to be like one of those sadistic murders where you cook me alive and blame it on someone else is it?”

“How did you figure out my master plan?” he teased, with a joking expression.

“I guess you’re just too predictable,” I replied, with a laugh.

“So you watch true crime then?” Jameson said.

From that comment I gathered he was an analyser. Just like me. He analysed conversation and made educated assumptions about people. But what split us apart was that he had the courage to say it to there faces, I kept all my observations in my head. I didn’t care if they were unconfirmed. But Jameson did.

“I listen to a podcast now and then, not a fanatic or anything like that,” I replied.

“Should we play a game?” he said to me, changing the subject suddenly.

“I thought we were going to a games room?” I said.

He thought for a moment and then responded, “a pre-game game.”

“I’ve heard you and your family are quite fond of those,” I said.

“Oh really?” he joked, quirking a brow.

“Yes really,” I grinned back.

“I see,” he pondered “and do you like games?”

“Depends,” I replied.

“On…” he prompted.

“What I’m playing,” I told him, “who I’m playing it with and why I’m playing it.”

“Interesting,” he hummed, opting thoughtful tone, “the man who makes it doesn’t want it, the man who buys it doesn’t need it and the man who needs it doesn’t know it yet.”

“Is that a riddle?” I almost laughed. It was so out of the blue, so sudden asking me a riddle in the middle of a conversation.

“Is my last name Hawthorne?” he countered with a smirk.

“A coffin,” I answered briskly. It wasn’t difficult to work out.

His eyebrows flew to his forehead, “that was fast.”

“Your riddle was maudlin and far too simple,” I shrugged.

He raised an eyebrow, “too easy? Okay, let’s try another and see if you’re as cocky.”

“Not cocky, just honest,” I replied.

He paused for a moment, thinking, “how can you physically stand behind your father while he is standing behind you?”

“My father is dead,” I said. It was true. I don’t know he I suddenly felt the need to blurt it out. It just happened.

“Oh-“

“But we’d have to be standing back to back,” I replied quietly, “that’s the answer to your riddle.”

“Correct again,” he nodded, then hesitated, “and I’m sorry about your dad,”

“Oh it’s okay, it’s not your fault,” I shrugged lightly, “I was young when it happened.”

I didn’t remember much, just being told I wouldn’t see him ever again. I had asked why and they had said he was going to stay in the stars now. And when I asked them if he’d ever come and visit, they told me couldn’t. So I cried. During the most part of my childhood I despised the stars, I’d stare up at them with a tear streaked face and curse them for stealing my dad. When I got older I realised the only thief was death and that the stars were nothing but a metaphor to hold a memory.

“I’m sorry,” he said again.

I shoot him a small smiled, letting him know I’m okay and that we can move on. He read my expression well and together we carry on. After a little while he stopped in his tracks outside a set of doors. I almost crashed into the back of him as he paused to abruptly. He swung both doors open at the same time, having a little ‘Elsa’ moment in let it go, as he walked through with his held high. I quickly followed, trying not to gape at the extraordinary components of the room.

There was a pool or was it a snooker table, there was air hockey, ping pong, table football, everything you could ever imagine. There was also a regular coffee table, surrounded by comfy looking chairs and a sofa. But what caught my eye the most was the games cabinet. It was a sight to behold. It covered an entire wall and reached all the way up to the ceiling. There was a ladder on the side that looked like it could slide across, like a book ladder. Within the cabinet laid dozens upon dozens of board games and other games alike were piled atop of each other, like books in an old crooked bookshop, all slanted and uneven in the most perfect of ways. There must’ve been thousands of games here. Jameson caught me staring.

“Ever played chess?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I don’t live under a rock you know,” I deadpanned.

He cracked a smile, “good.”

He jumped on the ladder and swiftly pulled out one of the several chessboards from the shelf and placed it down on the little coffee table. I followed him there and we both sat down. He then began to set it up and I was quick to help out the pieces in place.

“How good are you?” he asked.

“Why? You scared?” I teased, attempting to psych him out before the game even started.

“Only curious,” he said, cool as a cucumber.

“I can’t say,” I shrugged, “how can I judge my own ability fairly, I’m biased.”

“I suppose,” he replied, “but you would know if you’re alright at it.”

“I’ve won before,” I said. Actually I’d won quite a lot before, many many times. I wasn’t exactly lying, just being vague to work in my favour.

The board is set up, “what colour?”

“You choose,” I told him.

He shifted the board so the black chess pieces are on his side. Secretly my preference was the white anyway. I did a quick analysis of the board and sketch out a rough game plan in my head. I didn’t spend to long thinking, this game could go anyway and I didn’t want to be thrown off, but knowing what you sort of want to do was a start. Definitely the first few moves anyway.

“You start,” he urged.

“Such a gentleman,” I joked.

“I can’t help it,” Jameson winked in response.

I picked up a pawn between my middle finger a thumb, surprised at how smooth the finish was. This was an expensive chess set. I went with my classic start move of two spaces forwards into the centre. He grinned and mirrored the move on his turn.

“Copycat,” I teased.

“I would apologise but you still haven’t forgiven me from earlier,” he shrugged in reply.

“And I probably never will,” I grinned.

“Is this the beginning of some Shakespearean vendetta?” he scoffed, with a playful undertone.

“It might be, we’ll have to see,” I shrugged, “I haven’t decided whether it’s a comedy or tragedy yet.”

“Pick comedy, I don’t want to die at the end,” he said.

“We’re all going to die at the end,” I told him.

He replied, “not what I meant.”

“I know,” I smiled.

“You’re getting in my head,” he observed, realising my tactic.

“Am I?” I asked, batting my eyelashes.

“Yes you’re distracting me from the game,” he said sharply.

“Oh I hadn’t even realised!” I exclaim, doe eyed and innocent.

He narrowed his eyes at me, “your move.”

“Right,” I nodded.

We didn’t have much conversation after that. Actually the only conversation consisted of ‘your turn’ or ‘thanks’. Other than that only the sound of chess pieces being slid about the board could be heard as well as the dull silence that seemed like the loudest sound of them all.

Jameson had a lot of my pieces, the ones I didn’t need in my opinion. I let him have them, I want him to think I don’t know how to defend my pieces.

go on… my mind smiles, please. underestimate me.

I was deceptive and wanted him to underestimate me so I could surprise him, catch him off guard and steal the game from right under his annoyingly perfect nose. But Jameson Hawthorne wasn’t a big of a fool as I thought him to be. The few times I’d been forced to pull out critical moves, he noted them. He began to realise my talent for the game about half way through. He too was a talented player. His moves were swift but calculated, he was going to be a hard opponent to beat.

Move after move. Minute after minute. It was getting intense. Every move was critical, every second in between play was agonising. I found myself constantly self-consciously chewing on my bottom lip, captivated in my concentrated state.

He made his move and suddenly I realised what I can do. I could take a risk and bargain on what his next move was to trick him, but the tactic would only work if he moved the piece I needed him to move, otherwise it was checkmate for me. I sat there, weighing up my options. There was a chance he’d work it out and beat me, but there was also a chance he wouldn’t and I’d beat him. My eyes darted from left to right and back again until I impulsively took the chance. Praying my efforts had paid off, I watch his painstakingly slow next move. He shifted his knight diagonally by two. I wanted to stand up and scream in joy. I had him trapped. Brilliant. My calculated risk had actually worked. I kept a poker face as I realised he’d not yet noticed that I was a venus flytrap and he had crawled blindly towards me.

“Checkmate,” I smiled, leaning back.

His eyes were wide with surprise as his eyebrows shot up to his forehead. The reaction was so real, he didn’t have time to hide it. His jaw wanted to hang down but he was stopping it, I could see the clenched muscles.

“What?” I asked “didn’t plan on being beaten?”

“I was going easy on you,” he gritted through his teeth.

I grinned widely. So losing was a sore spot for Me Hawthorne. Interesting.

“That would explain why you look so shocked that I won,” I said with a sweet victorious smile.

“Fine, rematch but this time we play Hawthorne chess,” he replied, as if it were a deadly game.

“Hawthorne chess?” I raised my eyebrows.

He only smirked in reply.

***

He explained the rules. It was a lot like regular chess but there were six boards to play over and a few added rules that confused me. It wasn’t long before Jameson had me cornered.

“Checkmate,” he grinned, nicking my king.

“I was going easy on you,” I teased, mocking his earlier comment.

“Ha-ha,” he deadpanned, looking very unamused.

“Is your ego mended now you have a win?” I asked.

“Not quite,” he replied.

“Shame,” I pouted.

“Another match?” he suggested.

I shook my head then rubbed my temples, “I can feel a headache coming on. It’s probably from my lack of sleep.”

“Do you want me to walk you to bed?” he offered.

I shook my head again, “I’m not tired. My head just hurts.”

“I know something that might help,” he said.

“Okay,” I agreed.

“Fancy taking a trip the kitchen?”

“This is feeling very serial killer-y again.”

“I only snap into serial killer-y mode every third Wednesday,” he joked.

“Well now I know I’m safe!” I grinned back at him

***

We walked to the kitchen together and I noted it was a completely different route to the one I’d taken with Xander’s instructions this morning with Avery.

Once we got there Jameson leaned against the counter and asked me, “do you like hot chocolate?”

I nodded.

“Or would you prefer a coffee?”

His eyes were pinned to my pyjama set as he said it. I self-consciously looked down and blush a deep shade of scarlet, remembering the deign, as he snickered.

“Very witty,” I rolled my eyes sarcastically, “hot chocolate is fine.”

He fumbled around for a saucepan in the endless row of cupboards. I didn’t know how he knew which one to search in, they were all identical. He put it onto the hob and added some milk.

“Our cook goes home after serving dinner so I’ve gotten pretty good at midnight concoctions,” he explained.

“The way you say that makes me a little nervous there,” I told him.

“Maybe you should be,” he flashed a smile.

He put the hon on to heat up the milk and grabbed the instant hot chocolate powder, whipped cream, mini marshmallows and sprinkles.

“Are you five years old?” I laughed.

“Mentally,” he nodded, “is that an issue?”

“Not at all,” I said , “I’m with you there.”

“Nice to know I have a fellow person who had the metal capacity of five year old too,” he beamed, “our conversations will be incredible.”

“We’re having a conversation right now,” I stuck my tongue out, childishly.

“I’m describing the ones in the future,” he rolled his eyes, before returning my tongue gesture by poking out his own.

I smiled to myself as I watched him silently. Even at this time at night - or was it morning by now - he looked good. I wished I could see him like this every night and not feel like I was stealing glances at him.

“So what about you?” Jameson asked suddenly.

“What about me?” I chuckled.

“Well I don’t know much about you,” he clarified.

“You know my name,” I shrugged, searching for more information about myself, “I’m seventeen, Avery is my best friend, my dad’s dead, I like hot chocolate but I also like coffee, I find the rain relaxing, I used to play chess a lot, I like to read novels, I don’t like sleeping but I do all at the same time… now what about you?”

“What about me?” he tilted his head to the side, copying what is aid moments ago

“I gave you my information now you give me yours.”

“Jameson Winchester Hawthorne, I’m eighteen,” he began, “my best friends are my brothers, I don’t know my dad at all, my grandfather liked to give me games, I like hot chocolate and coffee, I prefer the snow to the rain, I have played chess since I could talk, I like to read too and I love sleeping but I don’t do enough of it.”

He’s countered all off my points and mirrored them with his own. It was interesting to compare us. We were similar but so different. I was about to reply but he cut me off.

“Woah!”

“What?” I asked.

“The milk!” He yelled, worry outlining his features.

I spun around to see the saucepan emitting in a thick blanket of steam.

“Why is it smoking? Can milk even smoke?” he shouted.

“It’s steam!” I rolled my eyes.

“Can milk even steam then?” he quipped.

“It’s a boiling liquid of course it can steam!” I exclaimed, for someone so smart, I did wonder how he was acting so stupidly.

“What do I do?” he panicked, the stress evident.

“Take it off the heat!” I cried out. I’d thought that was logical but no. Apparently it was not.

“Oh shit, yeah,” he said, almost laughing

He took the pan off of the heat and the steam began to die down. We made eye contact and started laughing like mad people, until our lungs couldn’t take it anymore and we had to get our breaths back, our bellies aching. We just seemed to fit, me and him. It was like we were the two missing pieces of a jigsaw that have been lost between the sofa cushions for years and now we’d finally been found and put together to complete the puzzle.

The milk turned out pretty much okay and we prepared the drinks a lot easier than we’d heated them. Jameson added every topping going excessively, which made me shake my head and laugh. When we were both done I took a sip, the warm liquid seeping through my body to the tips of my toes, making me feel a little less cold. It was delicious.

“Verdict boss?”

“S’alright,” I shrugged, “I’m kidding, it’s really lovely actually.”

“I agree,” he nodded, “maybe I should smoke my the milk more often.”

I laughed, “you didn’t smoke the milk, it just got a bit steamy.”

“Steamy,” he wiggled his eyebrows

“You really do have the brain of a five year old,” I sighed inwardly.

“Hey! I thought we already established that and moved on,” he said.

“I felt like we needed the conversation to resurface but we’ll put it to bed,” I sighed, then with a mischievous look on my face added, “for now.”

He grinned at me, taking another swig of his hot chocolate, this time getting whipped cream on his nose. I subtly rubbed my nose, hoping he’d mirror my body language or take the hint. He did. Silence hit us like a bus would hit an animal running across the road in the dead of night. Quickly. It wasn’t exactly uncomfortable but nor was it comfortable. It just was. The only sound was the occasional sip of our hot chocolates.

After a while, I became aware that he was looking at me, actually it was more like staring. It was an analytical look in his eyes, like I was some sort of science experiment rather than a person.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked, trying not to squirm as he held his gaze.

“You’re a lot like Avery you know,” he replied thoughtfully.

The comment caught me off guard and I couldn’t work out why. It wasn’t exactly an insult but it hit me like one. Why was Avery on his mind? And why was she on his mind whilst he was looking at me?

“Our brains work in similar ways,” I hummed, “I think that’s why we’re so close.”

“I noticed that,” he nodded, “but I also noticed you’re quite different at the very same time.”

The same and different? Being cryptic, I’ve decided, is a Hawthorne personality trait.

“How so?” I said.

“There’s something about you that is…” he paused to find the right word, “bolder.”

Bold? Really? That was one of last words I would have described myself with.

“You’ve only known me for a day,” I scoffed, “and you haven’t exactly known Avery for that long either.”

“I know,” he replied, “but you’ll find I’m very observant.”

It was only then I noticed his smile. It was the same smile Nash had on his face when he looked a Libby. And I hated to admit it but he look beautiful. His eyes illuminated, sparkling, bright. He looked genuinely happy. It made my heart melt a little, I wanted to see that smile every day. There was only major problem. I didn’t know if he was smiling at the thought of me or the thought of Avery. He could have easily be thinking about either of us and I didn’t want to get the wrong idea.

“You think Avery’s some sort of riddle,” I stated, trying not to let the bitterness seep through my tone.

“And you don’t like that?” he observed, an eyebrow raised.

“Any person who values another as just another game doesn’t get my greatest sympathies, no,” I told him blatantly.

“And what if she is?” he challenged, defensive.

“Is that all she is to you? Just a game?” I asked, getting angrier by the second, “what happens when the game ends Hawthorne, ask yourself that.”

“Then the game ends,” he shrugged, nonchalant as ever, “there’s not much more to say.”

“So she becomes nothing if not a tool for your own wants and needs?” I asked, stating it as bluntly as a pencil that barely writes.

“I didn’t say that,” Jameson insisted, a mixture of feelings betraying the usual mask he hid behind.

“You’re implying it,” I hissed, my eyes overcast, darkened.

He didn’t deny it and that gave me the only answer I needed.

“Now I don’t know you very well, but from what I have to go off of, I didn’t pin you as someone who was selfish,” I told him, raw passion in my voice, “a little bit cocky and far too brave, sure, but not selfish,” I snapped, my tone sharper, “but you’re acting like it and it’s not fair.”

He didn’t reply. Instead he morphed into some sort of stone statue, unmoving, unemotional, unwavering. I felt like a mother scolding her reluctant child.

“And did you even consider how hard this has been for her?” I questioned him, “coming here, to this labyrinth of a house, her life now dictated by a will, forever changed. She’ll never be able to walk the streets again like a normal person without paparazzi bombarding her. She’s just about adjusting to living here, one of your brothers seems like he wants to kill her, you treat her as if she’s a game and she’s being bombarded by the media, I mean the poor girl doesn’t even know why she’s here. She didn’t ask for this and I don’t want her to have to put up with your ‘I’m a Hawthorne so I’m going to use you because I’m entitled’ shit.”

Again, I got no response. For someone so witty and poetic with his words it was odd that now he chose to be silent. He stood still and said nothing. I wanted to shake him until he made a sound but instead I chose to be diplomatic, I chose to carry on.

“You can’t think of her like that, it’s not fair. Not for her or for yourself,” I said, “if you go by your whole life thinking everyone and everything is a game you’re going to lose people, fast.”

“You sound experienced,” he finally said, not replying to a word of my rant just picking out who he thought I was.

“Yeah well maybe I am,” I laughed bitterly.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I didn’t realise what it might feel like from her perspective of things. I’m used to being in my grandfather’s world, a world full of games and tricks and puzzles.”

“People aren’t puzzles,” I snapped.

“I disagree with you there,” he said, “people shouldn’t be treated like puzzles but every person is a puzzle.”

“Am I a puzzle to you Jameson?” I challenged, taking a step towards him.

“You’re one of the most intriguing ones yet,” he whispered, moving closer to me.

“Funny, I think I could say the same about you,” I murmured.

My face was inches from his, close enough to see his beauty up close. It was even more breathtaking. He looked down at me, his eyes so tentative, so gentle. We moved closer into each other, like a magnetic force was reeling us in, we had no control. It felt natural, it felt right. Our lips were about to brush…

He cleared his throat and pulled away quickly. My face grew very flushed as my eyes darted to the nearest corner of the room I could focus on.

“Still not tired?” he asks after a few beats of silence.

“Not in the slightest,” I replied, our eyes connecting once again. The soft rolling fields of hypnotic emeralds once again speeding up my heart rate.

“Good because neither am I,” he smirked, “say, have you ever played strip bowling?”

Now this could get interesting.

a/n: again, I’m really sorry for how long this took me to write and I realise it’s not my most amazing work, so sorry 😔😔 I really wanted to portray a strong friendship with Avery as well as interest in Jameson but idk if that was achieved. anyways hope this was okay, thanks for reading <3

TIG masterlist

[shieldedreams]

i’ll always find (see) you (n.s)

summary ⇾ after a training gone sour, lo’ak knows who to find in order to keep his brother in check. details ⇾ 2,299 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / 🌸 comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader  notes ⇾ i know i’ve been m.i.a lately but... i’ve been inspired to write for avatar so... here it is! ✨

the flora and fauna that surrounds you is what makes you think this–the mixes of pink, blue and green–must be heaven on earth. the fireflies that float about, sounds of kiri’s fascination as she occasionally lures one or two butterflies over your wandering eyes; the two of you laying side by side on the grass, staring ahead at the cocooning trees.

until a branch snapping cues the two of you to be on alert. you sit up, leaning partially to shield kiri as your hands fetch the dagger slotted by your ankle; kiri baring her fangs with a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it out of instinct.

the both of you visibly relax when–”couldn’t you just announce your presence like any normal being?” you scoff a laugh, putting your dagger away as kiri sighs, shaking her head, hand slipping from your shoulder, “lo’ak, where’s neteyam?”

“i’m here to ask y/n that.”

based on how lo’ak’s eyes lower to the ground, hands behind his back, it makes your heart clench at the implication. he’s gone... again. you glance to kiri, who nods, a silent and understanding of go, it’s okay. i’ll see you later. rising to your feet, you align your gazes with lo’ak, the younger boy offering you a small smile.

“you okay?” 

he chuckles, nodding with gratitude; familiar to your warmth and care, “i’m not the one you should be checking up on,” he shakes his head, “not this time, at least.”

“again?” you warm up your ankles and shake your wrists, prepping your body for the way you’d need to climb because–”we can see everything from up here...” your voice comes out in a mere whisper, yet only one can hear you. neteyam circles his arm around your waist, leaning in close as he presses his forehead to the side of your face, “and yet, all i see is you.”–where you’re about to go is a place only you and neteyam know.

somewhere only we know–how foolish. how childish. how... safe and happy you two were at a location that provided you privacy to be whoever you wanted to be. there, you are only known as yourself and neteyam was only known to be neteyam. no labels. no warrior. nothing. just you and him. him and you. together.

“training didn’t go well today, that’s all i can say,” lo’ak mumbles under his breath. before he can get another coherent sentence out, he’s left breathless when you take off past the trees and soon he notices you’re climbing and swinging on the branches.

“be back by dinner!” kiri calls out, well-aware it would reach you despite it looking otherwise.

//

neteyam feels the wind brushing against his skin; calm, tranquil, the coos of the birds soaring above and the low murmurs of leaves clashing below. normally, his senses would be heightened at the sound of branches creaking but this... here–his safe place–is no ordinary place.

it’s one of the highest points that grants him the view of his home; his people. sometimes... once in a while, that gets suffocating. being the eldest, being the one who’s supposed to fit in the role-model mould... it got suffocating, overwhelming.

one day, you brought him here. past the groans and moaning of how much higher?! he’s grateful this became the place he frequented when things got hard to process; when it got hard to breathe. you were here with him, hand-in-hand, his head on your shoulder, arms hugging your waist; his safe place, his person.

here, he was not neteyam te suli tsyeyk’itan; he was just neteyam... and yours.

“you know,” your voice echoes into his ears, then his eyes are blessed with the sight of you climbing up the last branch to reach the one he’s sitting on, “if i knew this would be the place we’d come often, i would’ve chosen somewhere easier to access...”

“you’re such a baby,” he scoffs a laugh, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, a quiet sniff entering your ears–he’s not crying.

“you’re the one to talk,” you quip back, just as you take your seat next to him. that gets him to quiet down and you’re half-regretting what you’ve said. “sorry... too soon?” you try to make up for it but he only shakes his head, moving to lean against you with a soft not soon enough...

his body grows towards you automatically. like you’re the source of light and he’s the receiver. taking in as much as he possibly can; for when things get heavy, for when things get dark. all he has to think about is his family and what’s at stake; you, you, you–all of you. his eyes flutter shut and he puts his arms around you, scooting you closer until one of your legs nearly go over his due to how close he’s pulling you.

you sigh and allow him to bury himself in your embrace. his face soon meeting your neck, arms tightening around your frame, tail lightly caressing your lower back out of habit. it reminds him that this is what home feels like; what home was meant to be. past the fighting and defending one’s honour, he was meant to be your lover.

you place a hand on his thigh, now noticing the marks of scratches that are on his skin. it doesn’t make him flinch when your fingers brush over it, but what makes him shudder is the way you turn your body so you can cocoon him in. one arm slithering around his shoulders, pulling him in and he inhales deeply against your pulse; your scent.

“you wanna talk about it?” you pry gently, lips to his temple. 

initially, he shakes his head.

but a couple of gentle strokes to the back of his head, he relents. details of how strict his father was, the pressure to please and succeed, the role of the oldest sibling weighs heavy on his shoulders and... well... he may or may not have raised his voice back in retaliation for the first time in months. it was normal, even if he thinks otherwise. for every insecurity or dark thought he has, you’ve always combatted with the opposite he longs to be true (it is, he just stubbornly refuses to admit now).

“what if i’ll never live up to him?” good, you’re not supposed to be a copy of your father. you’re meant to be your own person.

“what if i can’t protect them?” as much as you feel responsible to protect everyone else, you should protect yourself first. that’s what your parents would want before you help others.

“what if i’m a failure?” now you’re just talking a load of nonsense.

then, it always, always end with: “thank you,” he lifts his head up, eyes closed as he leans his forehead against yours. his eyes gently open, the moment seemingly soft, serene, pure but you–”for nearly breaking a muscle climbing up to find you? i think i should start claiming a price to this.”

“you dense baboon,” he hisses. the tone of his voice only makes you laugh. giddily, knowing very well by the sound of his voice, it seems like you’ve breathed life back into his lungs.

“i mean, if you call me a dense baboon, what about you? you’re the one who–and i quote–will never love another–dense baboon.”

he gives up with a sigh, eyes fluttering back shut that it makes you give in. after all, he did have a bad day. might as well let him win.

“ah, okay, okay,” you coo, easing the hand that was once on his thigh, then crawling up on his neck, now reaching his cheek where you cup it tenderly. it beckons him to open his eyes, briefly, before it instinctively closes when he feels your breath over his lips; then, the fleeting moment of your kiss that makes his body tense and relax at the same time.

“just one?” he murmurs, a hand of his now meeting the nape of your neck to keep you there as he leans against you.

“how bad of a day did you have?”

“might need a few more to forget about it,”

“you do know this ends with me dragging you back to your father, right?”

“...then give me all the kisses now.”

//

maybe it was thirty minutes, maybe an hour, but all neteyam knows is that he’s calm and at ease as he walks along the path back home with you; his hand in yours, step by step mimicking one another. neteyam succumbed to your wishes of heading back, an hour or two before dinner would take place.

neteyam’s lost in the moment, merely following your hand dragging him like a compass.

it’s not until he nearly loses his footing by staring at you instead of where he’s walking. he tightens his hold on your hand, a soft gasp leaving his lips as you tug him up. it happens so fast; so sudden. his other hand now meets your waist for stability as you come face to face with him–so close he can count the lashes lining your eyes, the smile that twirls up on your lips.

“if you wanted another kiss, all you had to do was ask,”

he scoffs with the roll of his eyes but his hands, his body betrays him. it always does. always weak when it comes to you.

you let go of his hand to circle them behind his neck as he lures you towards him. one hand securing you by the hip, the other reaching up to pillow against your cheek as he lightly noses along yours.

“thank you,” he says, in a mere whisper.

“you said that earlier,” you try to joke, only to get ignored when he gazes into your eyes, making whatever thought you had in your mind fade away; replaced with just the one looking back at you. you lean into his touch as his thumb brushes the under of your eye and as cheesy as it sounds, you feel your heart swelling at such tender moment you two were sharing.

“for seeing me,” his voice blends with the gust of wind that envelopes the pair of you. his words, so seemingly simple but it held much more than that. for coming to me whenever you know something is wrong. for loving me; thank you for loving me.

“i’ll always see you,” i’ll always find you; love you.

he cracks a smile, “even when i’m way up too high in the trees?”

“especially then.”

//

((“i’m sorry, sir,” neteyam has his head lowered, “for how i acted, for the way i behaved. i will do better.”

he swallows, hands locked behind his back as he waits for a response. half-anticipating for a reprimanding, half-afraid of what’s to come. he peeks up at the lack of response, now noticing the soft look in his father’s eyes.

“good,” is all jake says, then motioning him away with the movement of his chin pointing to the side, “dismissed.”

neteyam swallows, as you gape; having stood by his side since the second you’ve dragged him back. neteyam glances to you, then back to his father who remains unmoving.

“d-dad–”

“dismissed,” jake repeats himself, now looking to you with a small nod. you’re able to give a smile, understanding jake’s intentions. he may look stern and he certainly in hell is strict, but he loves his family and it shows. you can see it in the way jake strives to protect those he loves and that comes with a price of being too harsh sometimes. it’s the mutual understanding you have that got jake to warm up just a bit to you (compared to how neytiri awed over the way she noticed her son adoring you).

it was your cue to bow in respect before you wrap your fingers on one of the wrists behind neteyam’s back to tug him away. he doesn’t object, already stumbling to follow you but just as he glances over his shoulder, he could’ve sworn he saw his father crack a smile before he turned his back.

//

”if i knew getting him to date someone would get him to return quicker, i’d thrown him off the edge earlier,” jake comments, snorting at his own remark as he tidies up the equipment. he lets out a soft augh when he feels a nudge to his head, knowing very well of who it might–”you promised you’d go easier on him.”

“i am!” he sighs, looking up to neytiri who has her hands on her hips, raising a brow, “i’ll... have a chat with him, down by the river later.”

she somehow raises her brow higher and he extends his arm out, pointing right at–”you sure we won’t fall?” neteyam squints his eyes at you, watching as you effortlessly hook your knees over the branch, dangling your body upside down with a grin, “do not tell me that the great warrior neteyam, son of jake sully is afraid?”

neteyam scoffs a laugh and threatens to bite your ankle when he grips onto it, only to yelp when you nudge him forward and he has to rely on his reflexes to follow your lead. when he’s securely hanging next to you, he’s able to smile widely at you, finding your hand on the branch between your bodies. it makes you laugh this time, tail lining up the side of his body as he swirls his along your legs. it was playful, childish... it was happiness.

neytiri’s eyes soften at the sight, a smile crawling to her face. she directs her gaze back to jake, who has this shit-eating-grin on his face.

“get to him before dark. i want a nice, peaceful dinner as a family tonight.”

“roger that.”))

[supernovaa-remnant]

Sixteenth Day Event Prompt:

Tommy has a dream about his past life

A short little season 2 c!primeboys-centric fic for this prompt:

“What’s up?” Dream asks, closing and latching the gate to their new chicken pen. “You look like you have something on your mind.” 

“I’ve been having weird dreams lately,” Tommy says. “A couple nights ago, I dreamt that Tubbo had nukes! Crazy, innit?” 

Dream laughs softly, and the sound is a bit airy with a hint of a wheeze, as though there’s something wrong with his lungs. Not that Tommy would be surprised if Dream had lung issues, but he’s never thought to ask. Maybe Dream just has a weird laugh. That wouldn’t be surprising, either—he’s a weird dude. Dream likes to say that Tommy’s equally as weird, but Tommy would like to refute that and say that he’s perfectly normal, thank you very much. 

“Tubbo with nukes sounds terrifying,” Dream says.

He throws a handful of wheat seeds into the pen and watches as their newly acquired chickens flock to them. 

Tommy thinks cows are cooler, personally, but they haven’t got the materials to rebuild their cow pen after Sapnap—the blaze hybrid they met a couple weeks ago—burnt it down accidentally. If you ask Tommy, he thinks it was less of an accident than Sapnap claims, but Dream just tells him he’s paranoid every time he calls Sapnap a wrong’un. Which, if Tommy might add, is very hypocritical considering Dream is the definition of paranoid. And skittish. Dream is very skittish; every time they talk to someone else, Dream looks like he’s ready to bolt if they so much as look at him wrong. 

Tommy’s the only exception to that, which is something he takes a lot of pride in. Well, technically, Dream’s just as comfortable with the snakes that follow him around, but Tommy’s fine with that. He’s the only person who Dream’s fully comfortable around, and it’s nice, makes him feel special. 

“You were in my dream last night,” Tommy finally says. He pauses and then scoffs. “Dreaming of Dream. Kinda sounds like a shitty pun.” 

Dream turns around to look at him, rolling his eyes playfully. “I’m not changing my name, Tommy,” he says. It’s something Tommy’s brought up many times before, mostly jokingly. 

“You sure? Maybe you should. It’s making this conversation too complicated.” 

Dream laughs again, shaking his head. It’s nice—sometimes, Tommy gets in his head about being too annoying, but Dream takes it all in stride. It does make Tommy feel a bit bad sometimes when he teases Dream a bit too far, since the poor bloke just takes it without retaliation, but Dream’s ability to go along with him is nice nonetheless. 

“So, I was in your dream last night,” Dream says. “What was it about?” 

Tommy swallows the lump in his throat. It wasn’t really a nice dream, though not quite a nightmare, either. Maybe if it had been a nightmare, it’d be easier to talk about. The two of them have enough nightmares that it’s become pretty normal to even just talk about the emotions the nightmares left. 

Tommy’s dream last night wasn’t a nightmare; it had just settled heavily in his mind this morning, that’s all. 

“You were sad because we weren’t friends,” Tommy says, trying to phrase it in the most lighthearted way possible. “Throwing a proper tantrum over it and everything.” 

Maybe that’s not entirely true. All Tommy really got from the dream was this downright awful sense of hopelessness, which was really clashing with the look of fragile hope on Dream’s face. It made him feel guilty, and a bit regretful. Not a fun time.

“Aw, Tommy,” Dream smiles, “that’s a cute dream.” 

“Is it?” Tommy frowns. “But it was all sad and shit.” 

“I just think it shows that you value our friendship. It’s sweet,” Dream says. “And, for the record, I would be sad if we weren’t friends.” 

“Course you would be. I’m awesome,” Tommy says, but he mumbles it. It’s really hard to get into a teasing mood when Dream is just so genuine all the time. 

“Well, what about you?” Dream asks. “Were you sad we weren’t friends in the dream?” 

In the dream, it had felt like the entire fucking world was ending, but all Tommy could think about in the morning was the regret of not befriending Dream. Considering he can still feel the weight in his chest now, he’d say he was pretty upset about it in the dream. 

“Eh,” Tommy says instead, shrugging. “I guess I was a bit bummed.” 

Dream snorts. “Okay, Tommy. Whatever you say.” 

Tommy huffs and crosses his arms. Whatever. He is friends with Dream, so the dream he had last night doesn’t really matter, and there’s no use dwelling on it. Like most of the dreams he has, it will probably just fade to the back of his mind eventually, even if it had stubbornly lingered all the way to this afternoon. He’ll forget about it soon enough, anyway. 

Besides, Tommy has more important things to think about, like what wood they should use when they make a new cow pen, and whether or not it'd be a bad idea to accept Tubbo's dinner invitation considering Dream's whole thing with other people.

"Tommy?" Dream calls. "You know, if the dream upset you, you can always talk about it more."

There Dream goes again, being so genuine. It's almost sickening. It's mostly really comforting, though, and soft like the sweater Dream had knit for him.

Tommy shrugs. "I'm fine," he says. "It was just a dream, anyway."

[the-whispers-of-death]

Hello there! I am the Dilf requester anon :D. Can I ask you to continue the series?? OFC IT'S UP TO YOU!! (it can be anything really)

Btw looove your works!!!

It's been a month, but I've finally gotten to this ask, thanks to @3amfanfiction giving me suggestions on the next part for this. (Godsend, I tell ya.)

Anyways, I hope this still satisfies you even though it's a month late. Thank you for your kind words.

Ghost was a man who could follow orders. It was something that was ingrained in him after years of being in the military.

The thing was, he didn't follow just anyone's orders. They had to have his respect and more often than not, he clashed with his superiors when thinking their orders were bullshit. Price was the only one whose orders Ghost happily followed.

That was until he met you. You became the second person whose orders he could happily follow.

He's now in your kitchen, your kids quietly playing and doing their own things in the living room. He's dutifully waiting for your orders, his back straight like he's not a veteran but rather still the hardened soldier he used to be.

As you order him around the kitchen while you both make dinner for you, Ghost, and the kids, he finds himself thinking of how warm your orders are.

Everyone who has ever ordered him around has always been more rough than gentle, yet here you were. You're authoritative, but soft. Your voice doesn't harden with annoyance when he doesn't cut the vegetables the way you told him to.

No, instead, you walk over and gently place your hands on his, showing him how to cute the vegetables exactly the way you want him to. The gentle touch sends a shiver down his spine and your warm smile makes his heart skip a beat.

It's so easy to for him to fall into a rhythm with you despite this being the first time you two have cooked together. You lead him so well and he follows you so well. Like you two were made to do this together.

And when dinner is all done and finished, Ghost sets up the table as you call your kids to eat. He watches with his softened brown eyes as you walk back into the kitchen with a victorious smile, your kids shuffling in behind you.

He feels so warm and cozy as he sits with you and the kids, listening to the kids talk about their day as if he had always been a part of the family. Like this is his home, like he's right where he's meant to be.

Ghost follows orders, but only when he trusts and respects the person giving the orders. And he trusts you so much.

So much so that he has to take a sip of his drink just to stop himself from asking you to marry him right then and there.

Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres

Okay, so this is short, far too short despite the fact that I took too long to get to this request. However, I'm not going to tear myself down for it.

I got it done and I'm relatively happy with it. And I hope you're happy with it too.

Between you and me, Ghost wanted to propose to DILF!Reader right then and there, but I managed to stop him. If he had his way, this would've ended with him popping the question. 😂

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[szollibisz]

Do you have any hcs abt how Curt and Owen "came out" to one another? (Using the term loosely cuz obviously they can't just be like "IM GAY") And also how they got together (who fell first etc etc)

Ok, so to preface this, my favourite thing about curtwen is just how many ways you can interpret their pre-canon relationship.

I try to keep their story relatively loose in my head, save for a few headcanons I very strongly believe in, because it's more fun this way.

For me, the #1 headcanon that's in all the iterations I think of, is that they hated each other at first. I think their personalities clash way too much for them to be all buddy-buddy on the first day. (Physical attraction? maybe. Was it minuscule compared to their irritation with each other? yes.)

I just think it's interesting how the two of them gradually (and begrudgingly) start to care about each other.

I think their "friendship stage" is one of my favourite parts about the whole thing. Now I refuse to believe either of those men have friends. Maybe coworkers and acquaintances, but not friends. Which is why this stage lasts so little.

As their work their way up to care for and respect each other, both of them go a little crazy about it.

It's the first time in years or even decades they felt genuine affection and maybe even trust, and both of them are extremely starved for it. So it really doesn't take much for them to fall for each other. (especially since the aforementioned physical attraction was always there and only getting stronger as they learned to tolerate each other)

I imagine, because of this, Owen was the one who fell first, and he employed his usual tactic for dealing with unwanted feelings: Being an ass and depriving himself of good things. He got more intense about his work, trying to immerse himself in it, so he'll stop thinking about Curt. He stayed up late, didn't even try to take it easy when he had a migraine, drank shit coffee and other great things.

It technically worked. He looked like shit, which in turn made Curt worried, and if Owen completely invalidated his worries the two of them would get into a fight, be mad at each other and not interact so much. Owen thought this would make him not yearn for Curt so bad (he still did, in fact, yearn for him that bad)

When Curt realized he was in love with Owen he was pretty horrified. Like listen. If someone has commitment issues it's Curt. Maybe he had a boyfriend or two during his teenage years/twenties, but they didn't end well, and since then he's been trying to keep everybody at arms length. He convinced himself Owen wasn't so bad because hey. They were just buddies (and Curt desperately needed a buddy.)

He tried to shove down and ignore his feelings, but moaning your friend's name while banging another guy may just be a little more than what you can avoid.

He never understood why Owen turned so cold suddenly, and he was terrified Owen just didn't like or trust him anymore. In turn he was also mad at him for trying to shut him out.

Their little hate renaissance could only last so long though. They were still each other's only friends and no matter what they did they kept being drawn back to each other.

This was a super long preface but. I am not normal about those two.

So. different scenarios and headcanons and whatnot

1. Either one of them somehow discovers the other is gay. This would probably mean Owen finding out about Curt, because, I wholeheartedly believe that man would leave during a mission sometimes just to get a quick fuck in. Maybe Owen finds out with evidence (fast & easy method) or he just starts strongly suspecting with his great spying and deduction skills (slow & torturous method, he'd try to convince himself he's just seeing what he wants to see) either way, the confrontation would be very uncomfortable for both of them. Curt would deny it ofc, and Owen would go through the internal battle of "tell him it's fine, you won't rat him out, but be a little homophobic about it, so maybe you can keep the only friend you have, but also be ok with the fact that he'll always be with other men and never you" or "tell him you're gay too, maybe he likes you, maybe not, and potentially risk losing your job and livelihood and everything you've ever worked for" He'd most likely end up doing the latter, surprising both Curt and himself. (He's already way more into Curt than he admits to himself) And things escalate from there.

2. Dramatic post mission (maybe a "I thought I'd never see you again" moment) This is where their friendship gets really interesting to me. For a scenario like this the months long yearning is a given, maybe even a lot of unresolved tension between the two (which would probably be resolved with violence anyways) They care very deeply about each other by now. They know each other better than anyone, and their idyllic relationship is only made into a living hell by all the pining. At this point I mean, they'd buy each other birthday gifts, go over to the other's house when they were in the same country and share way too much info over drinks. Their job is always dangerous, but even they can get scared. Maybe we're talking being crazy outnumbered, or a torture/hostage situations, or hell even a collapsing building. Point is, id either one of them thought the other (or both of them) may die, at this point they'd be impulsive enough to just say I love you or kiss the other. In the moment neither of them would care, and later on, when you'd normally talk about things like near death makeout sessions, they'd just. not. do that, because communication is for guys with better life prospects. This one has absolutely no coming-out talk in it, simply because they don't need it

3. Possibly drunk hookup Now clearly, we are talking about two of the most down bad men ever. This is one scenario, I think could also work really well when they still really hated each other. Maybe throughout their first few mission they both gathered enough evidence and sussed each other out, and after (yet another) explosive fight they might just. Alleviate the tension by not beating each other up but by. other means. They don't end up talking much about it, but it keeps happening, and wait maybe they don't even hate each other all that much. (This is the more sober option) The other one is where the "possibly drunk" comes in. If they've been friends for a while, they probably got used to working around each other and finding comfort in the other's presence. This includes little habits, inside jokes, and even (very small) physical touches. This probably wouldn't go down during a mission, it's more likely to happen at either Curt's or Owen's house, maybe during some holiday. Both of them realizing it's a pretty bad idea early on, because, without all the stress of the missions and navigating a foreign country all that's left is them and the feelings they have for each other. Owen would probably say no to drinks for the first few times, just to avoid a potentially dangerous situation, but Curt would wear him down eventually. Now, with both of them drunk and comfortable, it wouldn't take much for things to escalate. Maybe Curt forgets to take his hand off of Owen after patting him on the back, or Owen holds Curt gaze for a little too long. Either way, those two end up fucking. The next day both of them are a little horrified, but they manage to come clean about their feelings (even if it's in the most backwards and convoluted way possible)

Happy ending (or not) There's many more ways it could've happened, but I already wrote wayyyy too much I think.

In the end I don't think they'd ever have a proper conversation about homosexuality, even way into their relationship. It's something they slowly pick up on from each other. How ashamed are they, what makes them tick, what you shouldn't say etc. And then of course, since they don't communicate properly and sometimes purposefully hurt each other, they'd throw it all back in the other's face.

I'm not sure this is what you meant when you asked for hcs, but I got carried away.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Chapter 2 - We should do this more often.

Part 2 of the Agency Tour!

Summary: Izuku shows Y/N the CCTV room. And his office… well, mostly his sofa, because it’s really hard to see when Izuku is crushing you into the pillows.

That sounds so much more suggestive than it is, sorry for the clickbait.

Warnings: Swear words, suggestive (!), Kirishima makes a sex joke. 16 +? Maybe?

First Chapter Master List

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Are you ready for the CCTV room?” Izuku squeezes your hand in front of a massive door. “It’s also connected to the commander room which is the busiest room in the whole building and the people working in this area are a little bit quirky. Kacchan thinks they are all weirdos, but they are really nice if you give them a chance.” He smiles at you, but you can’t miss the worry in his beautiful eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Let’s go!” You nudge the man and he opens the door…

“Oi, why is that guy standing there?!” A guy with black hair and dog ears peeking up in excitement points at one of the CCTV screens angrily. “He’s sus!”

“Bro, he has a date.” A red haired, nerd-looking guy looks up from his cup noodles, still slurping. Someone tells him off for talking with food in his mouth but he ignores it.

“How do you know that?” The black haired guy mutters, still angry. His ears flap down from the lack of excitement, clearly uninterested. He reminds you of Katsuki.

“He’s been doing that a lot lately, same woman, same meeting point.” The red haired guy answers with food in his mouth. You can barely conceal the smile; they have no idea the boss is in the room, they are so involved in their gossip.

“I hope he doesn’t cheat on this one, the lady looks cute.” A quirky looking girl adds with a sigh.

“He cheated?!” The guy’s ears point towards the ceiling again with a little wiggle. The cute ear-thing he’s doing absolutely clashes with his grumpy behavior but somehow, it’s also kinda adorable.

Izuku cleans his throat loudly to get some attention; the nerd guy almost drops his cup noodles, the black haired guy can’t help himself and laughs at him, clearly enjoying the drama.

“Can you fire these two? I honestly can’t do my job with them in the building.” And older, grumpy looking woman looks up from her laptop. She’s wearing a massive headset, but apparently, it’s not enough to suppress their daily bickering.

“I’m quite sure you were supposed to retire 10 years ago.” The quirky girl retorts and makes the angry guy laugh.

“Yo, who’s that.” The angry guy’s eyes lock with the screen again, judging a random bystander standing by the station entrance. He clicks on the screen a few times, checks the details; Mahito Shiro, 23, student, quirk: shrinking, birth date 2000.06.14 No police data available Threat-level: none “Nevermind, just another rando. Dammit. FUCK’S SAKE I’M BORED!”

“Oh my god, Toshi, shut the fuck up!” Someone yells from another room.

“Uhm, can I show my… Y/N around?” Izuku mutters; the whole room gawks at you with questioning eyes, analyzing you like you are one of the randos on the TV screen. Their gaze locks on your entwined fingers; fuck, you forgot to let go!; and there’s an absolute silence in the room until the black haired guy speaks up.

“So, who’s that?!”

“Oh my god, Toshi.” The quirky girl laughs again; apparently the sole existence of this angry man is enough for her to have a good day. Damn, you can relate. “That’s his roommate.”

“Is he cheating on his Sweet Pea?! I can’t believe the fucker. I thought he’s head over heels for that chick.” The Hitoshi guy gives the boss a disappointed glare.

“Can you not talk about my obvious pining right in front of the girl I am pining for?” Deku yells, extremely embarrassed; his cheeks are tinted pink and he’s squinting his eyes shut, hoping to be swallowed by a ground.

You don’t really know what to think right now; were you the only person in the whole wide world who didn’t know about Deku’s feelings?! Really?!

“That’s Sweet Pea, Tosh.” The quirky girl translates and the grumpy guy perks up, ears up and wiggling excitedly as he takes in the view in front of him.

“Exciting.” There is a weird noise coming from the back of the man; you try to look behind him and it doesn’t take you long to notice the massive, fluffy, black tail wiggling back and forth. So that’s why his chair clashes with the rest of the furniture; it was especially made for him to have space for his tail. That’s sweet.

“So this is the CCTV room.” Izuku yelps, his voice and octave higher than usual. “We have thirty screens in this room plus every person has their own set with ten screens that they keep an eye on. We have access to all the cctv footages in Japan that are not owned by a person, so cameras set up by the government, shops, banks, venues and the list goes on.” He continues to mutter. “Our security system has a built in information center thanks to our perpetual work with the police; if you click on a person, his face runs through the police information system and we can get their basic info without the need to get a clearance.” Deku puts his hands on your back and pushes you forward to take a better look; he clicks at a random person on the street and zooms in; the camera is crystal clear even after the zoom and the system starts to analyze the footage right away; the person’s name, age, quirk, area of residence comes up in the far corner of the footage; it also states that the person isn’t dangerous or under any suspicion at this moment.

“That’s really cool!” Your eyes shine with pure wonder as you look at the details.

“Well, it’s cool but it has its flaws.” Toshi speaks up from behind you. “Some stupid countries didn’t give us clearance to use their data so with a lot of foreigners, we actually need to go through the clearance process and it’s only granted if we have a strong reason to suspect the individual.” He grumbles under his nose, personally offended by this shenanigan.

“He’s just grumpy because he found his doppelgänger once and his info-request denied.” The older lady adds, smiling cheekily.

“The audacity of ‘em! He might be my secret twin brother!” Toshi retorts angrily. Izuku smiles under his nose.

“The right side of the office is in charge for the CCTV footage, the left side is charge for listening to the police radio in case there is an incident where we might be needed. The door on the left side is where the emergency call team is, but I won’t show you that room as it’s literally just people taking phone calls every five seconds and distributing the task to a hero with the most suitable quirk. They also have their own computer system that knows the current heroes on the call, their quirks and strengths.”

“Fucking hell, you guys are high-tech.” You mumble, bamboozled. Your mind is fried thanks to all the information you tried to take in; you would kill for a cup of water and some sugar right now; skipping breakfast was a terrible idea. You stroke your forehead, trying your best to soothe your aching head and Izuku pales right away.

“Oh my god, you haven’t had breakfast, I’m so sorry, Sweet Pea! Let’s go to my office, I have some food in there.” Izuku ushers you out of the room, not even letting you say a proper goodbye.

Running after Deku is a fucking challenge; his long, muscly legs gives him a super speed even without the use of his quirk so needless to say, you definitely look like an absolute idiot as you stumble all over behind him, out of breath already. Thankfully, his office isn’t too far away from the communication room; you are seated on a sofa now with a fancy cup noodle in your hands. You can’t help but smile when you see Deku’s pretty face looking back at you from the cup.

You always make sure not to buy this specific cup noodle; you literally can’t put Deku’s handsome face into the trash when you finish the meal. No fucking way.

“Can I keep the packaging?” You ask with a happy voice after you finished; the noodles warmed your soul and heart and you can feel your brain coming back to life now that you filled your stomach with the tasty junk food.

“Hey, isn’t the real thing good enough for you?” Izuku asks, offended. You absolutely love when Izuku gets jealous. It’s the prettiest sight in the whole world.

“Why would I choose if I can have both?” You stroke Deku’s face on the packaging just to irk the hero even more; Izuku’s eyes darken at the sight, possessiveness overtaking him for a second; he takes a deep breath and plops down next to you with the biggest puppy eyes ever. Let’s be honest, puppy eyes and Deku are basically the same thing anyway so he doesn’t need to try too hard for your heart to melt completely from the beauty of it.

“I kinda want to keep you for myself.” His fingers travel up your arms, leaving goosebumps all over your skin in their trail. “I know, I’m selfish, but it’s your fault for telling me to put myself first. Take responsibility.” Izuku giggles, then gets all emotional in a matter of seconds. “Y/N, I’m so happy you’re here I could cry.” Izuku’s eyes are full of unshed tears, but they also shine with happiness; it’s such an Izuku thing, crying over the silliest things, like being too happy, being too content or seeing a puppy on the street; he might be big and bulky now but when he’s happy he’s still that lanky nerd from middle school. He might be able to crush a person’s skull with a snap of his fingers, but deep inside he’s just a soft, dreamy guy begging for a motherly hug. Izuku is precious, so fucking precious it actually hurts your soul. “Going home always felt like a dream, but every time I left my the house it felt like it was just that… a beautiful dream I woke up from, a vision I created to soothe my lonely soul. But seeing you here, in my second home… it all comes together now, Sweet Pea.” Deku smiles, tears trailing down his face. “You are real. You are not just my imagination. I can’t believe it took me so long to realize that. I’m so happy right now.” Deku giggles but he chokes on his tears; his head hides in the crook of your neck and here he is, little nerdy Izuku crying into your neck, where he feels safe and content; that spot is his happy place, his saving grace after a long, dangerous day.

“Izu-Izu….” You mutter, your voice almost silent. “How did I deserve you? I’ll never understand.”

“I’ll make you understand then.” Izuku looks deep into your eyes. The butterflies in your belly don’t feel like butterflies anymore, but more like flesh-eating piranhas. That’s probably the least romantic comparison in the whole world but it’s the truth. “And if it doesn’t work I’ll kiss you until you forget about your silly insecurities. I’ll kiss them all away.” Izuku leaves tiny kisses all over your neck and collarbone; wherever he sees skin he kisses the area, lips moving slowly as though he’s trying to remember every single bump and crevice.

“Sounds good to me.” You cup his face with your right hand, pulling him up to you, slowly leaning closer to the man’s shiny lips. Izuku looks down, wanting and hungry; he wavers for a moment, probably calculating the chances of being interrupted, but it doesn’t take him long to find his way to you. The kiss is slow and languid, his mouth careful and attentive; it’s not what you expected after the all the tension brewing between you two but you can’t really complain; then black whip shoots out of Izuku’s right hand, right towards the office door, and the lock clicks.

Izuku looks at you like he’s waiting for an answer; to what, you have no idea but apparently your passionate gaze was enough of an answer on it’s own; Izuku rushes back to your lips, the kiss wet and heavy now. A tiny yelp leaves your mouth as your back collides with the sofa; Izuku is right on top, body flush against yours but still careful to not put too much weight on you. Your hands find their way into Izuku’s untamable curls, nails scratching his scalp as Izuku’s tongue licks into your mouth; you can’t help but whimper when Izuku starts to move his tongue, slow but passionate, the motion full of restraint.

“How do you even make these noises.” Izuku’s voice is octave higher than usual, clearly struggling to hold himself back. “Please, tell me to stop. End my suffering.” He says between kisses, his body getting heavier and heavier on top of you; you can feel every single one of his muscles and some other things as well; the thought of Izuku wanting you so much makes you whimper again, pulling the greenette even closer until your mouths clash again, the action hot and heavy. “I want to drink your voice, Sweet Pea.”

For some reason that sentence went straight down to your… well… you know where.

“Izu.” You sigh, two seconds away from combusting.

You are in Izuku’s office, goddamit, what the heck are you two doing?!

“I love you.” Izuku says while his hand finds its way under your shirt. You can’t help but whimper again, your body pushing up into his hand for more. Izuku looks five seconds from losing his mind. “Okay, let’s calm down.” Izuku takes a deep breath, his hand clasping your side to ground himself. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack you like this.” Izuku is completely out of breath, lips red and slick from all the kissing. Jesus, he looks absolutely stunning. “I don’t want to rush this. I’m so…”

“Say sorry again and I swear to god I’ll do something really stupid, Izu.” You pant into his neck; his smell is so intoxicating in your current state you can barely hold yourself back from biting into the skin to taste it.

“Roger that.” Izuku’s forehead connects with yours, his breath fanning your face. Needless to say that also doesn’t help your current situation at all. He stays in this position for at least a minute, taking deep breaths and letting them out, slowly moving his arms behind your back to pull you close. He goes back to his favorite place, leaving tiny kisses in the crook of your neck, finally calming down. “We should do this more often.”

You can’t help but laugh at that.

“Wow, so smooth, Izuku.”

“Shut up!” He whines, face pink from embarrassment.

“I love you too, by the way.” You sigh, hugging the hero back. He’s a little bit heavy, but you have no heart to tell him he’s crushing you right now; the feeling is weirdly pleasant.

Izuku only murmurs, clearly content to stay in this position and enjoy the solitude for a bit; several minutes pass in peaceful silence before someone bangs on the wall, the sound coming from the other side. Both of you jump up from the sudden noise, still half asleep in each other’s arms.

“Oi, nerd! You there?” Katsuki’s voice fills the office, but Katsuki is nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, we were about to come over!” Deku yells back with a blushed face. He stands up and gives you a hand, pulling you towards one of the bookshelves in his office; you moan about not being able to look around but Izuku is on a mission; he moves some of the books on his shelf, ruining the order completely then turns his Bakugou figurine around which stands next to a Deku one to face the other way. Something clicks and the shelf opens to another room; Katsuki sits at a massive black desk, sorting out paperwork, his glasses hanging low on his nose. You don’t really have the time or mental energy to actually understand what the fuck just happened, because Katsuki looks up, then gawks at the two of you, his glasses falling off his nose and landing on his desk with a loud thump.

“Have you even looked in a fucking mirror before barging in here, you two idiots?” Katsuki yells, his face red as a tomato. “The fuck were you doing in your office, huh?!” Katsuki retorts angrily. “This is a workplace, Goddammit!”

Kirishima appears at the sound of Katsuki’s yelling and freezes as the door; he looks at you two with an amused gaze then starts laughing like a maniac.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe Zuku was the first one to have a heated make out session in this building! You dawg, good for you, man!” He giggles as he makes his way towards Katsuki to put his hand on his shoulders in an attempt to soothe the angry blonde. “Don’t worry, Tsuki, you can still be the first one to have sex in the office. It’s an easy fix, I’m just saying.” Kirishima winks and Bakugou finally reaches his limit, hands sparking from the anger or the embarrassment, you are not really sure.

“I fucking hate all of you.” Katsuki’s head drops on the desk with a loud, painful bang. You swear there is steam coming out of his red ears.

Well, you guess you don’t need to tell these two the good news, then.

… Next Chapter!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- I know, I has been another 9000 years but I’m glad I didn’t rush this because this is my new fav chapter; I mean, the gag? The feels? That Toshi guy?

- I hope you enjoyed the sofa part! I think I don’t need to tell you how hard it was for Deku to stop there. Fun fact; that part wasn’t planned at all, it was all Izuku’s doing. This chapter was supposed be about the CCTV room and reader looking around Izuku’s office, but I guess she’ll have to come back to take a proper look, oh well.

- There will be more details about the secret entrance in the next chapter, so if you have questions, you can ask but it might get answered in the next one. (But I’m still more than happy to answer them now!)

- I hope you guys are having a great day! There is a massive storm coming towards my city and I live next to the sea so let’s all pray I’m not gonna get blown away with my 45 kilos like the last time. If you think that shit only happens in the movies, that’s false. I will never forget how I ended up clutching a random ass pole at 7AM for 10 minutes because my stupid ass didn’t know you can’t walk on the seaside during a wind storm. It’s delightful to be a foreigner sometimes.

TL:

@yao-ai @porusuniverse @stickygumchewer @sixxze @mily-moo @aei-sedai-moiraine @aymasakusa @kastuari @kenzie-deadly @shiviwrites07 @lukerycyja-reblogs @cloroxisadelectabletreat @coffeent @kisskissshutmydoor @bobcar1 @yazminetrahan @cringefan @ronimacaroni77 @thekookiecorner @dangerousluv1 @emperatris-rinaka @shotos-angelic-whore @angelsdemonsmonsters @norvacaine @rei165 @unofficialmuilover