#I WILL be getting another fic out hopefully within the next week.
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rahabs · 11 months ago
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999 kudos. I will cry. This fandom is so amazing.
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thebuttsmcgee · 10 months ago
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so. um. 👉👈
hi guysies.
Ig I should just say like. Hi
I haven't been posting here as much cause. Idk. Might be depression? I keep thinking its cause I've been so busy, which also wouldn't be not untrue, but these past, like, 3 weeks I think so far? I've had some free time but I haven't cause. I dunno, then again, I haven't been doing too much in general? I gues, besides very mandatory things, hell I've even been lacking in my regular skyrim hours of playing.
That, and as said, I get super melancholic when I remember just how sad and bittersweet it is that t0h is. Actually legit over. The show and experience, that is.
Oh all that and also becuz my headphones broke! Fuck! That's like number 2 in my bare necessities for when I post, do almost anything really! It's seriously been painful this past month going without headphones holy shit. Dude I've been scratching at the bit for some relief for headphones, I NEED music legitimately. Even right now, as I'm typing this on my phone, my music is on low levels.
But yerp. Its been. Rough. Really rough. I really do appreciate yall, everyone of yall. Have a sweet week everyone, ✌️!
#the butts chronicles#ogh but yea. been rough.#as said I have no idea if we'll keep this house cause man shits been fucked#uhhhh. lets see. recently my sister got into a fairly nasty argument with her husband since they were both drunk and hes a bit of a. hm#quick to being mad guy? I spose? but yea they made up and he actually apologized to me and my family for that so. its okay?#OH YEA FUCK LOL a few weeks ago fuckin tecksas got hit nasty with a hurricane and GUYS. I FREAKED OUT SO BAD LOL#cuz there was hail with the rain but since. I dont think we even ever experienced hail here I was scared that my ceiling roof broke again#and that it was the rain leaking to my room ceiling and was about to burst my ceiling so I legit started hyperventilating and panicking#with like. short and heavy breathing and almost crying badly until I went to look outside and saw hail and only slightly calmed down#oh but yea it was nasty lol. then the next day almost the entire block lost power and apparently sparks were happening cause fallen trees#uhhh. lets see. hmmm. OH OH RIGHT DAMN I FORGOT WE GOT A PUPPY LOL#we've gotten a lil pup all the way back from dec? iirc and she is now older and a shit lol shes in her teething phase and whatnot#still p cute tho and very puppyish. oh yea also during dec our power went out and ogh man dec was so freezing literally.#almost as bad as the one from. uhhh I cant remember the exact year but I remember it being within these past 4 years at least cause I read#a t0h fic during it lol. oh yea speaking of. we also changed our light company and damn. its been not bad so far! we had to pay up to 300#in our old company and now we dont even get to 200 so far! hope Im not jinxing it! hmm oh did I already say before that I had to get a new#phone? cause I did and I did not enjoy it lol. had it for a while and now and its arguably worse cause no damn headphone plug-in#I think I did mention this but in case. I did finish counseling. well more accurately they required payments again since things and whatnot.#I think? I mentioned the stuff I got for my bday and chmisas. I got mostly neat stuff. I guess. one of them has still yet to arrive lol#uhhhh. hrm. I did get Mr. Martinet's autograph as a present! hrmmm#my other sister got another surgery a while back and its been relatively the same since. hmm. my only other living grandparent passed away#me and my ex got into a. not great argument cause mistakes and whatnot. raccoons in the attic thats hopefully taken care of for now#aaaaand the plushes I ordered a damn near year ago have been technically canceled cause of unfortunate circumstances for the creator#who just kinda. posts things now lol ig.#but yea. lots. holy shit guys. lots has happened. fuck man. I think Ive been way more tired than I thought.#not to mention the past weeks of just. reflecting. man#uhhh#long post#LOL i gues#but yerp.
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almostempty · 2 months ago
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Something in your mouth
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(joel miller x f!reader)
The third installment of  Never made it as a wise man aka creed!joel
WC: 8.4k | Part 1 | Part 2 |  Other fics | Rating: 18+ 
Summary: post hand job and phone sex; it’s the leadup and part 1 of these horny bishes goin’ on a date
Note: heyyyyy it’s me and i’m back on my bs . i know i promised the fuckening, but that was summer me and now it’s winter me.. so instead of hiding and never updating, i remembered i have free will so u get the full week lead-up and the first half of the date.. and then i’ll brb with the fuckfest okay? i promise. (also it’s actually almost done this time so it won’t take months). again, i am still merely a vessel for the spirit of buttrock joel. hopefully this part 3 is girthy enough to sate your appetite a lil bit  
Tags: au no outbreak modern joel, divorced dad rock dilf joel x f!reader, picks up right where pt 2 ended, alternating pov, dirty talk, horny yearning, blowjob in the truck, still crackish, but i am still dead serious about it being hot so idc, mistakes are all mine
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Thanks to Nickelback for having non stop horny bangerz to quote such as Something in your mouth
major thanks to @hoelaris for this moodboard that made me weep tears of joy bc is it so perfect
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thanks to @magneticecstasy for date joel thots to be ft in this pt and the next, @auteurdelabre for telling me to let them have their happy ending so i can get back to the paris boys faster, to @syd-djarin for support, horny thots, song suggestions etc, and @itwasntimethatdidit40 for the nickelback pedro tiktok edit inspo
it really takes a village or whatever they say <3 
*if u forgot what this is bc i took so long give Part 1 and  Part 2 a read for a refresh <3 
*if i missed ur tag or u want off this ride lemme know 
okay, it's starting now:
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You wake up in Joel’s shirt. It smells more like you than him already, but it still makes you grin devilishly just the same. You go about your day, a few errands and some chores, the whole time with a little more energy than usual. 
When you’re back home and settled in to have a lazy afternoon, you get a little restless. Itchy fingers. It’s hard not to pick up your phone and check your messages again and again. You’re drawn to looking at the picture he sent, the pictures you took, and you can’t help wondering…
Did he wake up thinking of you? Hard, aching, and leaking at the memory of your voice. 
Did he dream of all the nasty things he said he wanted to do to you? Waking up throbbing and frustrated, grinding his cock into the mattress as if you were beneath him. 
Did he wake up and check his phone to confirm you were real? Making it all the way to the shower before surrendering, wishing it was your soft cunt he was fucking instead of his fist. 
You know you’re fucked when just thinking about him thinking about you has you so turned on. It’s so tempting to send him something else. Another picture? An audio message? A thinking of you 😘 text? 
No. No, no, no. 
You can wait him out. Make him work for it a little. He’s a full-grown man. You’ve already given him enough to work with. Plus, you wanna know what he’s gonna come up with next. Right? 
The lazy Sunday ends all too soon and before you know it you’re back to work. Dragging ass into the office with the biggest iced coffee you could buy. You deserve a treat to get through your Monday anyway. 
A little warning bell chimes in the back of your mind as you drop your things on your desk. Ellie grumbles a good morning that matches your enthusiasm for fluorescent lights at 8 am. A little seed of guilt sprouts within you. 
Is it fucked up of you to mess around with Joel? It’s not like it’s something serious. Or, does that make it even worse? There’s no way he would say anything to her about it. 
“Heard you saw Joel again,” she says before you’ve even sat down. Great. 
“Uh, yeah,” you reply, “Still didn’t feel right that he wouldn’t accept anything for helping with my car.” You sink into your chair, hesitating to say more. It’s too early to have a good poker face. 
“So you made him a lasagna?” She questions, staring you down. 
“Men love my meat sauce,” you say with a shrug. 
“Gross,” Ellie grimaces at that, “please, don’t ever say that again.” 
You buy her off with the rest of the cookies you had baked. She’s happy to take the entire container from you and happier to enjoy them all immediately. If she’s suspicious she’s either good at hiding it or you really don’t know how to read her. 
You carry on with your morning catching up on mindless tasks, swirling your coffee around as the ice starts to melt, and trying to stay focused. Ellie turns on her music and you can’t help thinking of Joel again. It’s like he’s infected your mind and every shitty 2000s post-grunge alt-rock song conjures him up. 
You can’t help wondering what exactly he would’ve told Ellie about your surprise visit. Would he have asked about you? Implied anything? You can’t stop yourself from asking. 
“What did he say?” 
Ellie’s head swivels towards you immediately. 
“Who?” 
Instantly you know you messed up. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You shouldn’t still be thinking of him. She prods you about what you said and what you meant. Not accepting a nothing or a never mind. An uncomfortable wave of embarrassment twists in your stomach, heat blooms in your cheeks, and your hands are fidgety. 
You shouldn’t have brought it up, you shouldn't be so defensive. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t, shouldn’t.  
Ellie is sharp–cutthroat–reading your every move. You stare at the empty Tupperware on her desk, hoping it will reveal some sort of escape plan. A strategy to deflect. It’s too late. Her eyes narrow just the slightest bit and she follows your gaze. It clicks. 
“Oh, you meant Joel?” 
You’re so busted. “I..uh,” you don’t know how to finish that thought. 
“Why?” She gives you such a blank-faced look that it’s unsettling. You’re an adult. Why does this feel like you got caught sneaking out to see a boy on a school night?
You try to brush it off, but it sounds more defensive, making it worse. You focus on cracking your knuckles and trying to feign a more casual air. For some reason that means you keep talking. Broken sentences pouring out of you and trailing off into a stiff laugh. 
Mercifully, Ellie cuts you off. Tells you it was Tommy who mentioned it. 
So, he was the one who showed up while you had your legs spread open on Joel’s kitchen counter. The catalyst to your shirt heist and hasty getaway. That makes your face hot for a different reason. 
“Oh. Gross.” Ellie groans.
“What?” 
“You’ve got that look on your face.” 
You snort at that. Only slightly horrified that she’s so adept at picking up the tells on your face. “What look?” 
You suck down the last of your iced coffee, stalling, until you’re just sucking in air. You toss it in the tiny trash bin between the two of you and decide to be honest no matter what she says. You’d rather get ahead of it. 
“Was it a sex lasagna?” Her mouth is pulled into a look of disgust. 
You snort at that before shaking your head, preparing to get it all out. 
“Okay, look. It was a thank-you lasagna.” You pause, trying to figure out exactly how much to share. “I didn’t plan the rest of it. It just…happened. And, fuck, it was so hot.” 
Her face wrinkles with confusion, then disgust, then laughter. It makes your heart rate speed up. 
“I’m sorry,” your words come out like a waterfall. “I don’t want to make things weird. I want us to be friends. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sure it wasn’t serious. I’ll tell you whatever you want. It was my fault. I showed up without letting him know. I made the first move—” 
“You fold quick,” Ellie notes, interrupting you. She throws her hands up and you shut your mouth, “Look, you’re both adults, I don’t care what you do. Just, please, don’t tell me any of the sex details.” 
“Do you really not care? Or like, you say I don’t care and then treat me like Cheryl in the front office?” you ask. 
“No. I genuinely don’t give a shit. Well, I mean, if you break his heart I’ll have to kill you.”
“Naturally,” you agree with a solemn nod. 
“But,” she pauses to take a breath, tilting her head before continuing, “it would probably be good for him, don’t think he’s had a real date in a while. But don’t come back to me broken-hearted if he’s a dick—that’s just his face.”
“A date?” you echo. 
She groans and rolls her eyes at you, but it’s too late. 
Your mind starts to wander. With Ellie’s blessing, you don’t have a reason not to give it a shot.
The harps are already strumming as you float off into your cloud of dissociation. Your favorite daydream flickers into focus as your eyes glaze over and a dazed grin curls on your face. It’s always that same slo-mo Baywatch-style memory. That one where you caught Joel wiping the sweat off his forehead with the bottom of his t-shirt. The original temptation that led you back to him. 
Somehow, every time it replays, there’s a new easter egg just for you. The ghost of a knowing smirk or a sparkly-eyed wink when he catches your eye, like a wicked little tease to pull you deeper into the dream world. 
Sometimes it’s all too visceral. In the privacy of your mind, you’re free to direct the scene how you’d like. Slowly panning over the peek of soft skin and the trail of hair you can see. You can still feel the warmth on your fingertips from when you slipped your hand beneath the waistband of those navy blue boxers. 
Sometimes, you create something new. You’d like to take one of his sun-faded plastic green lawn chairs, drag it to the front porch, and sit yourself down for a show. You wanna watch him mow the grass in the evening heat. 
You can see the sweat beads dotted along his neck and the contour of his marble-sculpted arms as he serpentines along your fantasy world front lawn. 
You can smell the fresh-cut grass and the specific blend of sweaty man pheromones that Aphrodite concocted just for you. 
Your chest swells, lungs expanding, as you breathe slowly and deeply. The illusory scents fill your lungs until you release a deep, yearnful sigh. The imaginary lawn mower almost drowns out the imaginary Fred Durst bellering, It’s just one of those days, from that little stereo on the workbench. 
Before you can transition into another scenario—something bounces off your face, and you flinch with a loud yelp. 
“That was your warning,” Ellie glares at you. “Next time I’m throwing something sharp.” 
“Okay, okay, message received.” You offer a sheepish smile, and she turns around. It seems the Limp Bizkit song was very much not a figment of your imagination. Ellie mutters along to the lyrics behind you, barely audible, as you spin in your chair to get back to work. 
It’s not even five minutes later when you swivel in your chair again with another question for Ellie. 
There’s nothing like having a crush on a man you barely know to truly make you delusional. You know you’ve got it bad, but it’s unfortunately just so much fun to daydream and let your mind run wild with the very limited info you know about the man. 
You don’t want to worry about anything that could go wrong. 
Except for, well, everything. 
You still fret over texting him first or waiting. Should you send another picture with no context? Should you call? Should you wait another day? 
When you notice your chest feeling tight you give yourself a reality check. It’s Monday morning. You’re at work. He’s probably at work. You can figure it out later. A future you problem. 
Joel’s text comes through late in the evening. 
Joel: You wearing my shirt to bed again? 
You’re grinning immediately. At hearing from him first and because he fucking clocked you. You snap a quick photo. Despite being on the spot, it’s thoughtfully crafted. Just enough to show the logo and only your mouth, not your face, no extra skin, no sexy tease. Just a confirmation. You send it off, and his reply buzzes seconds later. 
Joel: More 
You try to bite back the grin still stuck on your face as your fingers dance across the screen. You want to tell him off for being so blunt, but for some reason, it feels like such a compliment. You’ve definitely got it bad if a thirsty one-word text feels like high praise. 
You aren’t going to give in this time. You’ve still got Ellie’s words echoing in your mind. A date. You type back one line. 
You: Gonna have to earn it if you want more 
Your phone rings shortly after your message is delivered. Joel’s name flashes on the screen and your stomach flips. You thought maybe he’d send another dick pic, but now he’s calling you? It does check out that he wouldn’t be the texting type, to be fair.
“Hey,” you answer, voice soft, a little tentative. 
“You’re gonna make me work for it, huh?” His drawl is low, rough around the edges and so stupidly sexy it makes your nipples hard. You can just tell he’s already on edge. Delight floods your veins at the idea of him thinking of you all day. 
“You could use a lesson in patience,” your voice is remarkably steady, despite the way your body is lit up. You chew at your lower lip. “Thought I told you that last time we were on the phone,” you chide. 
A deep chuckle rumbles through the phone. “Patience,” he repeats. There’s a pause that has you holding your breath. “I don’t think you’re playin’ fair, baby. Knowing you’re in bed with my shirt on, teasin’ me with another picture.” His voice takes on a husky, knowing tone. “Don’t think it’s patience you’re lookin’ for. Bet I know what you really want.” 
Your breath catches, loud enough he wouldn’t miss it even with his busted phone. You weren’t prepared to be so affected by just the timbre of his voice. It’s fucked up the way he’s got you breathless for no damn good reason. 
You can picture him in his bed. The trademark navy blue sheets. Is he fresh out of the shower? Damp hair and the overpowering scent of whatever 10 in 1 man soap was on sale at the grocery store— 
“Okay. Enlighten me then. What do I want?” you finally reply. 
“You want to hear it,” he continues, smooth and smug, radiating a cocky smirk right through the phone that makes your skin tingle. “You want to hear how you’ve got me hard, sittin’ here thinkin’ about you,” Joel growls, his voice thick with heat. “Thinkin’ about you wearing just my shirt.”
You bite down on your lip to stay quiet. Maybe he’s not in bed at all. Maybe he’s still out in his shop, locked in the office, a couple beers down before he dared to text you. His hair a mess from running his fingers through it, in those faded jeans that cling to him perfectly. 
Either way, it seems almost cruel to stop him with a mouth like that. 
“Thinking about what I’d do if you were here,” he carries on. “You look good in my shirt.” His voice drops even lower. “You’d let me push it up though, wouldn’t you? Just enough so I can see how wet you are for me.” 
You can’t help pressing your thighs together at that thought. If he hears how turned on you are already, you’re definitely going to end up acting out his fantasy over the phone. 
“Fuck.” he mutters, his voice breaking. “You’d let me take my time. Get my hands on those perfect tits again. Soak my fingers with that sweet pussy. Have you so worked up you’d be begging for my cock.” 
He says it like it’s a fact, as if he could come over right now and you’d drag him straight to your bed—or no, like you’d be on him before he could shut the front door. 
It’s so filthy, so confident. You’re so tempted to keep him going, but you pull yourself together. Biting back the whimper stuck in your throat.�� 
“Well, damn, Joel,” you swallow down the urge to ask for more details. “Guess you’ve got me all figured out then,” you tease with a heavy dash of sarcasm in your tone. 
“Not all of you,” he replies, with a suggestive edge. “Not yet.”
You let out a breath you were holding. “Look, you can’t just get your dick out on the phone, tell me how you wanna touch me, and get your way,” you manage, steady and a little sharp. “Not this time.”
“Not this time?” he echoes, half-laughing, clearly amused. “Alright. Sure. What do you want then?”
There’s a flicker of nervousness that tightens in your chest. You don’t want him to think you’re rejecting him, don’t want to risk losing the momentum of whatever this is. “I’m saying…I do want you. But, if you want more you’re going to have to do more. Show me you mean it. Like…a date.”
He doesn’t answer immediately, and your heart skips as you imagine his reaction. He’s quiet, but you can hear his breathing—measured, like he’s weighing something.
“Shit. You’re serious?” he asks, and there’s a softness now, laced with just enough curiosity to make you think he’s intrigued.
“Dead serious,” you say, adding, “But if you’re not interested in me like that—”
“Oh, I’m interested.” The words come quick, a little sharper than you expect, and they make you beam. “Fine. A date,” he says, like he’s letting the word settle on his tongue. “Friday?”
“Friday.” You confirm and stretch your neck. Your muscles are tense. Shoulders tight. All from his filthy words getting you worked up in half a second and the anxiety of your demand. “Come up with something good,” you tease, your voice slipping into something sultrier, “and maybe we’ll both get what we want.”
There’s a low growl on the other end of the line, tinged with frustration and desire. It makes your pulse throb in your clit. You almost wish you had let him talk you through it before suggesting the date. Hear how worked up he’s been over you. 
“Jesus,” he grumbles. 
Oh, you would’ve turned into a mess and completely forgotten to bring it up. Now you’ve essentially cock blocked yourself until the end of the week. Ugh. 
“You’re gonna drive me mad.” He says. But there’s no animosity in it. Instead, there’s something new in his voice that gives you butterflies. 
“Yep.” 
You’re the one who hangs up first before you can hear anything else that might tempt you to stray from your plan.
……..
It’s late morning when your phone buzzes on your desk the next day, interrupting your excellent cosplay of a ‘productive employee’. You glance at the screen and your heart trips when you see Joel’s name. 
You answer, trying to sound casual despite the fluttery feeling in your chest. “Calling me during business hours, Mr. Miller? You’re going to get me in trouble.” 
Joel snorts softly. “Think we both know you’re the one that likes causin’ trouble.” 
“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” 
His voice drops lower, quieter. “You need a reminder? Cause I’ve been replaying exactly how much trouble you caused in my kitchen…”
“Don’t.” You nearly hiss into the phone, trying to cut him off before he starts with any graphic retellings. You spin in your chair, grateful when you confirm Ellie has headphones on for once. 
“Right.” His voice is back to a slightly less devastatingly erotic tone. “Wouldn’t want to get carried away while you’re at work. 
“Well,” he drawls, the grin evident in his voice now. “You said you wanted a date, so I was thinking.”
You hum, leaning into the teasing tone. “If it’s a chain restaurant I’m canceling right now.”
“Do I seem like the kind of guy who’d take you to Applebee’s?”
“Do you want me to answer that honestly?” you quip, laughing at the soft groan he makes in response. “No Applebee’s, no Chili’s, and if you’re thinking about taking me to whatever the fanciest Italian place is in this town, don’t. I’m not going on a first date where you used to take your ex-wife for anniversary dinners.” 
There’s a beat of silence, then a grumbled, “It was Valentine’s, actually.”
You cackle, delighted at your guess. He huffs. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re predictable,” you shoot back, grinning as you cross your legs under your desk. “Or maybe it’s just ‘cause nobody has been challenging you.”
“S’that what you are?” he asks, “A challenge?” 
You shift in your chair, the grin on your face is going to make your cheeks burn if he keeps this up. You soften the teasing as you admit. “Maybe a little.” 
“Mm,” he grunts, clearly not convinced.
“If you’re up for it,” you add. Nerves flutter in your stomach now. Maybe he doesn’t want a challenge at all. It’s not like you’ve been hard to get. The silence stretches just long enough to make you wonder if you’ve pushed too far. 
His exasperated sigh crackles through the phone, but it’s laced with something warmer. “Yeah.” But then he exhales, soft and almost self-conscious. “Ain’t a bad thing.”
The words are simple, but they settle somewhere deep, curling warm in your chest. For a moment, the flirty defense falls, and you catch the subtle weight in his voice.
“You’re full of surprises, Joel,” you say finally, your tone gentle.
“Guess you’ll find out,” he murmurs, the words quiet like he’s not sure he’s meant to say them.
Your stomach flutters at the unexpected softness. You knew there was more to him than his bold mouth when his dick is hard or the stoic lone wolf look he wears in his garage. You weren’t expecting him to be…whatever this is now. 
The line goes quiet again, his breathing soft on the other end. “Friday at seven,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but quieter than before. “There’s a brewery that Tommy suggested. I’ll pick you up.”
“That sounds nice,” you reply, smiling into the phone.
“Alright,” he mutters. There’s a brief pause, like he’s hesitating, before he says, “See you then.”
He hangs up before you can say anything else, and for a moment, you’re left staring at your phone like an idiot. A grin stuck on your face. Possibly permanently. 
It’s not just the idea of the date. It’s the thought of Joel making a plan, asking for recommendations, and thinking of what you might like. You figured it’d be fun to give him a hard time and all, but you didn’t have real expectations. 
The week stretches on and you’re not sure if it’s moving too fast or too slow. Having a crush is wicked enough, but having a date planned makes you feel slightly insane. It’s like you’re in a cartoon where the world is suddenly brighter and the birds sing just for you. 
You find yourself constantly daydreaming at work. Every Creed song Ellie plays somehow sends you into a fugue state. Snippets of Joel’s voice replay in your head. 
There’s something about the way he said, “Ain’t a bad thing,” that keeps sneaking up on you when you least expect it. It wasn’t even what he said—it was how he said it. Quiet, like he wasn’t used to admitting something like that out loud. It makes you smile like a fool every time you think about it.
The worst is the evenings. At home in your room. Nothing to distract you. Alone with his t-shirt. Re-reading your brief texts. Lingering wistfully over the dick pic he sent like it’s a letter from your long-distance lover. You’ve got to get it together. 
And Joel? He’s just as distracted, though he’d never admit it. At least not to anyone but you. 
At work, his usual rhythm is thrown completely out of whack. He catches himself staring at the same invoice three times before finally filing it away. Tommy catches him with his Breaking Benjamin t-shirt inside out. 
You’re in his head and it’s driving him nuts. He tried to minimize it. Deciding it was just the impulsive way you crashed into his world. You spread like a wildfire in his mind. The kindness in you to deliver a homemade meal. The audaciousness you have to go after what you want. 
He goes weak for a confident woman and you’re so sharp and quick with him. It’s a rush, but not just because of the sexual chemistry. Not just because you’re a novelty or a break in his routine. 
It’s you. It’s the way you’ve got the passion and sharpness with your words, but you’re still soft on the edges. He thinks about the way your voice had dipped when you said, “If you’re up for it,” like you weren’t just teasing but testing something, seeing if he’d push you away.
He’s not used to this. Not the nerves, not the anticipation, and definitely not the way he’s spending too much time wondering what to wear on Friday. Not that he’d ever admit it, but he even dug through the back of his closet, holding up a button-down shirt Ellie had bought him last Christmas like it might bite him. He ends up tossing it back in favor of flannel—it’s still a step up from a faded band t-shirt. 
By Thursday you’re nearly useless. You drive Ellie crazy all morning, spacing out and jumping when she asks you a question. To be respectful, you haven’t mentioned the date and she hasn’t asked. Would Joel have told her? Does she know you’re losing your mind over a man who probably has holes in his sweatpants? Are you equally as pathetic? 
You’re still stuck on that thought when she kicks your chair, startling you back to reality. “Come on,” she demands. “We’re outta here and you’re coming to the Main Street with me. I’ll buy.” 
Turns out you’re a cheap date. The dive bar has strong cocktails and a very limited menu of fried foods to choose from. You sit outside at a picnic table enjoying the warmth of the early summer evening. 
Ellie is easy to get along with. Talking animatedly about her friends. Sharing the hot goss about Cheryl and her divorce. Trying to recruit you to join the company rec league kickball team. It’s all a welcome distraction even though you still have Joel on the brain. 
You do your best not to bring him up but when she mentions him you know you perk up like a heart-eyed fool. Begrudgingly, but with sincerity, Ellie asks if the date is what’s got you so distracted. 
“How did you know?” 
“You’re both worse than teenagers.” She rolls her eyes. “Thought bringing you here might take your mind off it.” 
You snap to attention at her choice of words. “Both?” 
“Don’t.” 
She’s a good friend. You did need the distraction. You’re still smiling about that thought as you check yourself out in the mirror in the bathroom at the bar. There’s a poster taped to the paper towel dispenser for the cover band that plays Saturday nights that catches your eye before you slip your phone out of your pocket. 
You’d blame it on the drinks but the truth is only had one. You hover over the messages. Wondering if he’s really as nervous as you. Fuck it, you decide before sending what you’ve been wondering. 
You: You been thinking about me? 
His message comes through so fast it’s more revealing than the words he typed. 
Joel: Maybe 
Fuck, why does one word have you feeling giddy already? 
Joel: Have you? 
He asks shortly after. You wonder if he’s second guessing himself. Is Joel nervous? 
You: A little  
You figure you’ll give him the same treatment. 
Joel: Haven’t been able to stop, if I’m honest baby 
Heat floods your face as you stare at the screen, and his next message comes before you can respond. 
Joel: Friday’s been feeling real far away 
That has you shaking your head. 
You: Patience is a virtue 
He’s quick to respond again. 
Joel: Never claimed to be a saintly man 
That makes you genuinely laugh. 
You: Good 
……
By the time Friday night rolls around, you’ve fully spiraled into a mess of anxiety and excitement. You’re not really the type to overthink a date, but there’s something about the whole scenario that feels different. It’s not just because Joel’s hot—hotter than he has any right to be—but he’s trying. For you. It’s disarming in a way you weren’t expecting. 
You know that the worst-case scenario for the night isn’t bad. You know how to have a good time wherever you are and you are confident that he’s a horny bastard that will put out even if you actively try to sabotage the date. It’s that flickering sensation in your chest that hopes for more. That’s what makes you nervous. 
You’re startled when Joel knocks at your front door. You check your reflection one last time before heading to the door. You figure it’s casual enough for a first date at a brewery. 
Despite everything inside of you that screamed to put your tits on display again—you couldn’t resist wearing the Creed shirt. You tied it up in the front so it accentuates your figure and paired it with a faux leather skirt with a matching black lace set underneath. 
It’s gotta be enough to play at the alt-rock vibe he’s still living in. You look good. Really good. 
But when you open the door he isn’t the only one who’s world gets rocked. Joel stands in front of you like he was plucked from your fantasy. Freshly showered, his damp curls just starting to dry in soft waves. A plaid button-down shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off those strong, tan forearms. His dark jeans are markedly not as worn down as the last pair you saw him in, yet the effect on you is just as dastardly. 
It’s unfair, really, how good he looks. You’re left blinking as your mouth goes a little dry while you drink him in. Who’s idea was it to have a date? In public? Fuck. He shifts, a sly smile growing on his face as he rests his hip against the door jam. 
“Hi,” you mumble, still ogling him. 
“You look… real nice,” he says, voice so low and velvety it should be registered as a weapon. 
You know you had a smart-ass remark about the shirt on the tip of your tongue, but it’s gone. Gone… along with your morals. All you’ve got left is the intense, primal desire to do something inappropriate with his arms? Yes! Yes! Yes! The horny gremlins like your idea despite having no logistics or master plan. 
They seem to have no coherent plan of attack at all, to be honest. Bite! Lick! Suck! All you know is that you need him in your mouth until your jaw is sore. 
Joel huffs softly. Amused that you seem speechless. “Didn’t think flannel was all that special baby, you alright?” 
“It’s not the flannel,” you mutter under your breath, but you don't let him hear the rest of that thought: Arms! Arms! Arms! 
You grab your bag and follow him out to the truck, stealing glances at him as he walks ahead of you. You can’t help it. He’s so…solid. Sturdy. Sure of himself. Even when he’s out of his comfort zone. It’s doing something sinful to you. 
The inside of the truck smells faintly like a Black Ice air freshener, a Home Depot on a Sunday morning, and Armor All. The distinctly Joel aesthetic lives up to your imagination. It’s lived in. Comfortable. 
There’s the catchall cupholder of change, receipts, and literal nuts and bolts. The caseless CDs in the storage divider strapped to the sun visor—you recognize a couple like Seether and Three Days Grace. 
Before you can take in every detail though, you’re distracted by just the sight of him driving. It’s absurd, but why does he look this good just driving? Most people can manage to operate a vehicle, but most people don’t look as fuckable as Joel does, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on his thigh. Hand! Thigh! Neck! Fingers! 
You’re reduced to only being able to name anatomical features when you’re this close to him, apparently. Like an alien learning about a man for the first time. An extraterrestrial explorer propelled by the most curious desire to taste and touch every part of Joel—for research. 
You’re so caught up that it takes a while to register the song that’s playing. Of course, it’s more Nickelback. 
You're so much cooler
When you never pull it out
Cause you look so much cuter
With something in your mouth
It breaks the spell he has on you and you laugh, really laugh. Joel looks slightly horrified, having no idea what led to your outburst. When you’ve recovered enough, you let him in on it. 
“Nice first date song. You really know how to set the mood.” 
He rolls his eyes but doesn’t change the song, and you let yourself glance at him again as he drives. His profile glows in the evening sun, and you can’t help thinking how easy it would be to reach over and drag your hand down his chest, and make him pull over so you could climb into his lap. The thought has you pressing your thighs together, your pulse thrumming in your ears. At this rate you’re not going to make it through the night. 
…..
The brewery is trendy. Joel hopes it’s something you like. He tries to focus on the menu, but feels like his brain is short-circuiting. It’s not the overpriced burgers or the craft beers with descriptors that don’t sound like flavors. It’s the way you're leaning forward on your elbows, chin resting in your hand, smile tugging at your lips. 
The shirt is unfair. The way you’ve got it tied, hugging your body in ways that make his palms itch. Knowing you were touching yourself in the same shirt to the sound of his voice. He’s trying not to stare, trying to be polite, but it’s damn near impossible with you sitting across from him like that. 
“How about this one?” you say, pointing to an option on the menu. “Probably the closest thing to what you’ve got stocked in the shop fridge.” He’d wonder how you knew what he had in the fridge, but his eyes are glued to your finger pointing at the menu and it’s consuming all of his thoughts. 
You ramble on about a few other choices but he doesn’t hear the words. He’s still stuck on your hand. He swears he can still feel the ghost of your touch from the kitchen last week. Shit. His jeans are already feeling tighter than they should. 
He clears his throat, trying to pull it together. “I’ll trust you.”  
You smile wide at that. He’s so fucked. “You know a lot about fancy beer.” Yikes. “You got a favorite on here?” Get it together, he begs himself. 
“Nah, I don’t really like beer,” you say casually. You give him a shrug and point out a cider you’re thinking about trying. His stomach twists. 
“You don’t like beer,” he repeats. “But, you let me take you to a brewery?” His chest feels tight, and he shifts uncomfortably. 
“They have food, too.” you counter. 
“Right.” Why does he feel like he’s so out of his element? He’s been second-guessing everything about this date. He feels his gaze drifting as his eyes shift out of focus, his fingers toy with his bottom lip as he gets lost in his head. 
He knows he can get you worked up just as bad as him over the phone, knows he can make you sing for him with just his fingers, but this? He doesn’t know what you want from him now. Is the date some kind of test? He knows he’s overthinking all of it. 
“Hey.” Your voice brings him back, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I like that you planned something.” 
It seems genuine. The way you look at him with bright eyes and a smirk like you’ve got something to tease him about on the tip of your tongue. “Now ask me a boring first date question,” you instruct with a nod like you’re giving him some kind of permission. 
“What’s your favorite color?” 
You snort laughing at him. If you’re half as nervous as him you don’t show it. 
….
It works. Mostly. Your drinks arrive. The conversation flows more easily. He still gets tripped up here and there but doesn’t disappear on you again. He asks about your job, your family, about where you moved from, and you give him enough to keep things light but still playfully dodge some of his questions. 
Every time he gets flustered, you catch yourself smiling, a little surprised at how much you’re enjoying this. It’s the way he watches you like he’s trying to figure you out. The way he tries. He seems to relax a little and for a moment, you think he might settle into the evening. 
Then he reaches for his water, and it all goes sideways. The dangerously full glass wobbles, tilting just enough to spill halfway across the table. Joel jerks back, cursing dejectedly under his breath as he grabs a napkin to clean it up. 
You can’t help it. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them. Just loud enough for him to hear. “Trying to get me wet already?” 
His eyes snap to yours. You grin, adding, “Don’t worry, been dripping for you since you showed up at my front door.” 
He makes a sound between a cough and a choke. Stunned. The faintest blush creeps up his neck, reaching all the way to his ears. For a second, he looks like he might say something, but all he manages to get out is a gruff, “Jesus.” 
You lean back in your chair, grinning triumphantly. You didn’t expect him to get so rattled by your comment. Not with how vulgar he’s been on the phone or when he had his hand between your legs. It’s an ego boost to know you’ve got the upper hand at first. 
“Relax,” you purr. 
Then you catch the way he discreetly tries to adjust himself under the table. Clearly unable to relieve the pressure. Knowing the effect you have on him is more intoxicating than the alcohol. An idea strikes you. You know exactly how to get him to relax. 
“Do you have cash?” you ask. 
“What? Yeah.” He looks at you confused. 
You nod like he proved a point by saying yes. That confuses him further, a deep line forming between his brows. 
“‘Course you do. That’s like, Dad 101 ‘carry cash in case of emergency’. 
You stand and grab your bag. “We’re not staying,” you say simply.
“What?” He frowns, sitting up straighter. 
You flash him a smile. “I’ve got a better idea. Come on. You said you trust me.”
“To choose a beer,” he grumbles, dropping enough cash for a generous tip on the table before letting you lead. He doesn’t argue as you walk back to the truck, just trying to catch up with your words. He opens the passenger door for you, his hand brushing yours briefly as you climb into the truck. It’s a small thing, but the innocence makes your pulse skip all the same. 
Once he’s in the driver’s seat, the tension between you shifts. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. You glance at him, taking in the way his hands grip the steering wheel so tightly, the muscles in his forearms flexing as he shifts. 
The truck rumbles to life and another one of the horniest Nickelback songs plays—barely loud enough to recognize. 
I’m loving what you wanna wear
I wonder what’s up under there 
Wonder if I’ll ever have it under my tongue 
You bite back another laugh as the vocals float through the cab, perfectly at odds with the vibe of the place you just left. Joel shifts, mouth twitching like he knows how ridiculous it is. “You wanna tell me where we’re headed?” he asks, voice cutting through your thoughts. 
You tell him where to drive and settle back in your seat. Again your thoughts drift. Infatuated with his fingers curling and uncurling like he’s trying to distract himself. He hasn’t said much since you’ve left, but you can feel the tension radiating off him. Heavy and thick. 
You catch his gaze flicker to you for the third time in as many minutes. His eyes trail over the curve of your thighs where your skirt has ridden up. It’s subtle, but enough to make you feel bold. 
You smirk, pulling the visor down to check your reflection in the mirror. Fishing a lip gloss out from your bag, you swipe it over your lips, smoothing the edges with your fingertip. Joel doesn’t say anything, but you don’t miss the deep steadying breath that fills his lungs or the crack of his knuckles. 
Satisfied with your lips, you tug lightly at the t-shirt, adjusting the knot, shifting the fabric to lay how you like and slipping a hand beneath it to adjust your tits in your lacy bra. You hear Joel exhale sharply, a low, throaty sound that makes heat curl low in your stomach. 
“You okay?” you ask, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. Your voice is softer now, more knowing, and when he doesn’t answer right away, you grin. “You seem tense.”
Joel mutters something under his breath. His jaw tightens. Finally, he glances at you, his eyes dark. “You keep doin’ that, and we’re gonna have a problem, baby.”
“Doing what?” you ask, your voice all innocence, though his threat gives you a prickly rush. 
Joel huffs a laugh, low and rough. “You know damn well.” His voice dips, a rasp of heat that whips down your spine. “The lips and the shirt, just messin’ with me like you want me to lose my fuckin’ mind.” 
Your grin widens as you meet his gaze. “And what if I do?”
“Jesus,” he mutters, his voice strained, his hand flexing against the wheel. “Trying to get me to crash into a ditch or something?” 
The tension between you is unbearable now, the air thick and buzzing. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly. You unabashedly linger on the way his hips press forward slightly like he’s trying to relieve the ache between his legs. It shouldn’t drive you fucking wild with need, but you’re gripped mind, pussy, and soul. 
“Pull over,” you say suddenly, your tone steady.
Joel’s head snaps toward you, incredulous. 
“Pull over,” you repeat, your voice softer now, more insistent. “Please.”
He hesitates for only a second before caving, steering the truck onto the shoulder. The tires crunch against the gravel as he shifts into park, the engine idling low as he turns to look at you. His eyes are dark, his breathing uneven, and the sight of him—wrecked and barely holding it together—makes you rabid. 
“You’re gonna kill me,” his voice is rough and quiet. Infused with lust and awe. 
“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning closer. “But you’ll enjoy it.”
Joel groans softly, his hand flying to your thigh, the heat of his palm searing against your skin. “Torturing me,” he mutters, his voice a low growl. “Sitting there lookin’ like that, knowing damn well what you’re doin’ to me.”
“Yeah?” you ask, your breath hitching as his fingers slide higher. “What am I doing to you, Joel?”
He exhales sharply, his grip on your thigh tightening. Why are his hands that big? Like, how are you supposed to know what they feel like and ever leave his grasp? 
Your heart is pounding now, the heat in your veins making it hard to think straight. Joel’s voice drops lower, his hand sliding further up your thigh as he leans closer.
“Can’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he mutters, his lips ghosting over your jaw. “The way you’d taste, the way you’d sound, begging me to fuck you harder, deeper—”
“Joel,” you whisper, cutting him off. Your voice is shaky, your hands gripping his arm as you try to ground yourself. “Please.”
He groans again, the sound rough and desperate, and his hand moves higher, his fingers brushing the edge of your underwear. “Yeah, baby,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s what I wanna hear.”
It makes you shudder. You feel him smile at your body's obvious responses, as his nose grazes your skin just below your ear. 
“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs into your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you all damn week. Every time I close my eyes, it’s you.”
His words hit like a match to dry kindling, and your breath stutters as his fingers trace the seam of your panties. 
“You know how hard it was to sit there at that table?” he mutters, his voice turning darker. “With you looking like this, wearing my clothes, teasin’ me.” 
“We didn’t even make it to the actual dinner part,” you giggle as you trail off. 
His fingers press more firmly, dragging slowly over the thin fabric, and you can’t stop the gasp that escapes your lips. Joel groans at the sound, his free hand gripping your thigh to hold you steady.
“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, his voice thick with heat. “You’re already soaked. Bet I could make you come like this, right here, without even tryin’.”
Your hips shift instinctively, grinding against his hand as he works you with deliberate precision. The friction is maddening, just enough to keep you on edge, but not enough to send you over. Every filthy word he says in your ear has you burning up. 
“Jesus, you’re gonna sound so fuckin’ sweet for me,” he says, more to himself. “Can’t wait to bury my face between your legs, make you scream my name until your throat’s raw.”
“Joel,” you whisper, your voice shaky, your hand flying to his wrist as his fingers dip lower, brushing just beneath the edge of your panties. “Wait.”
He freezes instantly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you. “What’s wrong?”
You shake your head, your cheeks flushed, your body still trembling under his touch. “Not now,” you assert, your voice soft but steady. “Let me take care of you.”
Joel blinks, his pupils blown wide as your words sink in. His mouth parts to say something but the words disappear. You don’t let him argue. 
Sliding your hand down to his belt, you undo it hastily, fingers working open the button of his jeans before he can protest. It’s for him. You want to do this for him. Help him relax so you can enjoy the rest of your date. 
But, fuck, it’s also for you. You’ve been riding a high just from a shoddy dick pic and your muscle memory, but you’ve been patient long enough. You’ve got to see it in person and you need it in your mouth, asap. You deserve that much, right? 
You slide down the zipper and fuss with the waistband until you get what you wanted. His breath catches as you free his cock. It’s heavy and hard against your palm. Radiating heat and weeping for you. 
“Oh, fuck,” he starts, his voice breaking. 
You hum softly, pleased, leaning in to kiss him as your hand strokes him slowly, deliberately. Joel groans against your mouth, his hips jerking slightly into your hand. 
“You’ve been thinking about this,” you murmur against his lips. “All week.” 
“Yeah,” he rasps, voice raw with want. “Can’t stop thinking about you. How you’d feel, how you’d look, how you’d sound.” 
“Show me,” you whisper, lowering your head to taste for yourself. You like a hot stripe from the base of his cock to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head. 
Joel’s breath stutters, his hand flying to the back of your head as he watches you. “You’re so fucking good, baby. Like a fucking dream.” 
You hollow your cheeks, tongue gliding along his length as you take him into the heat of your mouth. You have to use your hands to work the rest of him, still slowly and deliberately. Every sound he makes, every twitch against your tongue, every flex of his core, and tightening of his fingers, it all drives you wild. 
It has you moaning with need around him. Your cunt soaked and pulsing, begging for attention between your legs as you focus all on him. It’s just as much for you as it is for him. 
His head tips back against the seat, a rumbling grown spilling from his lips as his hips shift beneath you. 
“Shit.” he pants, voice cracking. “You’re gonna make come so fuckin’ hard. Bet you’d look so pretty with my come on your tongue.” 
The sheer filth of his words spurs you on, your movements quickening as you savor every groan, curse, and sharp inhale from him. “Fuck—just like that.” He encourages you, adding firm pressure to the back of your head as his hips jerk and he loses control. 
“You want it?” he asks desperately as you moan in affirmation. You’re voice is still vibrating through him as he starts to come, hot and heavy on your tongue. You don’t stop until his body goes slack beneath you, his chest heaving as you finally pull back. 
He looks wrecked, mouth hanging open, sweat on his brow. You give him a devilish smile before opening your mouth to show him. He stares at you, eyes dark and hazy, before cupping your jaw in his palm as you swallow. 
“Told you,” he huffs, “so fucking pretty with my come on your tongue.” A bright, satisfied smile spreads on your face at his praise. He pulls you in closer for a kiss. When you pull back a frown pulls at your mouth. 
“What’s wrong?” Joel asks hurriedly. 
“I didn’t get to see,” you muse. “Will you take a picture next time?” 
“Fuck,” he looks at you with awe and pride. “Yeah, baby, of course.” 
“Good,” you nod, readjusting and settling back into your seat. “You think you can relax a little now?” you ask, tone teasing.
Joel lets out a breathless laugh. He drags his hand down his face. “You’re unreal,” he mutters, voice still hoarse. The phrase makes you beam with pride. It’s the same remark he made over the phone last week…right before he said ‘got me shooting loads like a fucking teenager’.” 
The gratification just from seeing him this wrecked is like a drug. He’s every bit as enticing and addicting as you hoped and feared. You squeeze your thighs together once more and take a deep breath. Committed to the rest of your idea for saving your first date with the divorced DILF of your dreams. 
“Back on the road. We’ve got places to be.”
Joel blinks at you, still trying to catch his breath. “You’re serious?”
“Yep,” you smile lazily, tugging gently at his arm. “Drive.”
He shakes his head, muttering something under his breath about you being the death of him, but he shifts the truck into gear, his hand lingering on your thigh as he pulls back onto the road.
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neesieiumz · 1 year ago
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catharsis || ──────── s. aizawa
day five — SOMNOPHILIA / VOICE KINK / DADDY KINK
『 synopsis 』 after a long patrol, your husband comes with an ache only you can sate, only to find you deep in sleep
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『 warnings 』 — 18+. sm*t. minors do not interact. husband!aizawa. pro-hero!reader. p*orn with very little plot. that's why it's shorter than my normal fics. established relationship. she is a natural disasters hero. and he has his normal job. somnophilia. voice kink. daddy kink. he is very much in love with you. like borderline obsessed with you. and vice-versa as well. female reader. black-coded reader but anyone can read. he calls you a slut but you enjoy it. sweet aftercare. was this self indulgent? i plead the fifth, how bout that?
『 writers notes 』 honestly feel like i overdid with the daddy kink but here we are! hope you enjoy it and you won't get a new ktober fic until next week tuesday! check the masterlist!
『 word count 』 3.0k
previous fic in ktober | masterlist | next fic in ktober
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The night had fallen upon your home before you had known it, the twinkling stars gazing down at you, the full moon’s brightness fully mocking your somnolence. You could no longer stay up for him, no matter how much you tried. You had waited for long before sleep was beginning to overtake your body, and you knew this was another night you’d go without being able to see your husband. 
Your husband was Eraserhead to the world, but at home, he was Shouta to you. Your Shouta. The two of you were heroes, after all, that was how the two of you met. You knew the long nights that came with the job, especially with him being a teacher as well. 
Dressed in a thin two-piece set, in a pale baby blue, you lay on your bed, covered in your warm sheets, with nothing but the sounds of your automated fan blowing cool air into your room, combatting the heated summer night outside. With school out, and your husband only getting a reduced check from his main source of income, he had no choice but to join up in nightly patrols, his main specialty when it comes to hero work. 
The two of you found each other while working patrols late at night, you being a new transfer from a faraway city on the outskirts of Japan, where natural disasters were then likely to occur. 
“Eraserhead, what kind of name is that?” Your smile was wide, contagious even. 
The two of you stood in an alleyway, with him hanging upside down from it, his eyes obscured by the bulky yellow goggles he constantly wore.
“Trust me, I was definitely not the one to make it.” His voice was deep and grave, it slightly echoed through the alley. 
“That means whoever made the name must have been pretty special huh?”
It was silent for a moment, and for a moment, you thought you hit a nerve, anxiety rising within you. 
“Yeah, I guess you can say they were.”
You gleaned up at him, seeing some semblance of a smile on his face. This caused your own smile to widen slightly, standing up straight. 
Your marriage was a private one, one with family and friends only, a short, quiet, and intimate event. The two of you only had a week off for your honeymoon, during the time of which students were out for school to not mess with his schedule. The two of you are extremely busy, with his job as a hero course teacher and of course your own as a rescue and natural disasters hero. The two of you barely had time for each other, easily taking what you could with each other. You knew what came with dating and eventually marrying another hero, especially with someone like your Shouta. 
You lay across the bed, sighing as you relaxed into the comfort of the comforters, onto the softness of the mattress. Closing your eyes, hoping to bring a new day, hopefully with your husband’s arms comfortably snug around your waist. 
— — — —
You heard a squeak first. 
Your eyes barely cracked open, still heavy with sleep, as the squeaking sound got louder and longer for a moment and then stopped altogether. You didn’t move, your heart racing and beating drums within your chest as the sound of muffled footsteps got closer and closer to your bed. You could hear ruffling, like clothes were being moved before the familiar fresh scent of mahogany and lavender, your body relaxing as you did so. You opened your eyes a little bit further, being able to see the clock on your bedside table, seeing the number 2:34 glowing from the digital clock. This was a first, you never woke up when he came home from patrols, you always found yourself being wrapped up in his arms when you woke up in the morning. You tried to find the confines of sleep, hoping to easily slip into it, knowing you’ll wake up in your husband’s arms once more. 
Creaakkk…
His footsteps got closer and closer, his scent slowly gaining intensity as something within went off, like chilling tingles crawling up your spine. You could feel his eyes staring holes into you, possibly scanning your entire form wrapped up in your blankets. A familiar tingling sensation began to erupt and spread through you. It had been months since the last time he touched you, the two of you being completely swamped with work. Suddenly, the bedframe creaked, as you felt the mattress underneath you slightly dip. He was so close to you, his knee grazing up against your back, the blanket being the only thing that kept the two of you lightly touching. Droplets of water, possibly from his shower that he took when you were still deep in sleep, dripped down onto you, feeling the cool, wet spots from your blanket. You kept yourself as still as possible, sleep still dancing in your eyes. And then, all of a sudden, he crouched down, the bed creaking along as he did.
It took all your self-control not to gasp as you felt his erection pressing up against you. Even with the blanket, you could still feel it. You held back the slight gasp out a slight moan as he pushed his hip in between your bottom. He let out a hefty groan, his head falling right beside your own, his lips right next to your ear as he did. You could feel yourself clenching around nothing, feeling yourself beginning to drip down your thighs and stain your thin shorts. All of your self-control was slipping piece by piece, your body aching and wanting for him. Your breathing became shaky, you know he could hear it, and yet he continued his actions. You could feel his lips slowly press up kisses along your cheek and jawline. His nose nestled itself in between your ear and your hairline that peeked from the night-time scarf you wore, before taking a deep breath in, taking your freshly washed scent, your body wash, as well as your nighttime hair products. 
“You smell so good,” his voice wasn't strained, as if he was holding back as well.
“I missed you so much,” he spoke again, the bed creaking again as he moved, his hands beginning to move down, thumbing along the hemline of your shorts.
“I’m sorry I haven’t been here as much, snowflake,” he mumbled in your ear, his hand now officially slipping down into your shorts. 
His fingers slipped in between your legs, two of his fingers easily spreading your lips apart, cool air hitting your clit, causing your body to tremble ever so slightly. Your mouth is slightly agape, drool slowly dripping out of your mouth onto your pillow. His fingers easily spilled into the mess in between your legs, pressing up against your clit. Carefully, he massaged circles into you, every movement slow and deliberate, as if he didn’t want to wake you. He probably didn’t wake you up. You had just gotten home from aiding a beach town devastated by a hurricane, pulling people out from rubble, and creating emergency service tents. 
“I know you just got back, but I…” he trailed off on his words as his fingers slipped further down, sliding in between your labia. 
“I can’t hold myself back, fuck.”
Your husband sounded so pretty, his voice straining every syllable as his hips ground more and more into you. By now, your shorts were a mess, and your underwear soaked with your juices. No longer able to hold yourself back, you softly pushed your hips back against his fingers, and hard-on. He most definitely felt your movements, letting out a massive groan as his dick twitched underneath his boxers. 
“Naughty girl, such a slut even in your sleep…” his chuckle echoed against your bedroom walls, as his fingers dipped in even further, one of them pressing into your hole. 
“Everytime I have to stay away from you, whether it be my job, or your own job, I can feel myself descending into madness–” his words suddenly cut off with a guttural groan, his hips suddenly giving off a sharp thrust.
“I am obsessed with you, you know that right?”
Tears dripped down your eyes, staining your pillows as his words enchanted you, sending great shocks of ecstasy through you. You could feel yourself trembling, only aching for him more and more. His own boxers were sticky with pre-cum, you could feel it oozing onto your satin shorts, slowly mixing in with your own soaked juices. His hand slowly pulled themselves away from your cunt, the sudden loss of pleasure causing your emotions to deflate before feeling that very same hand pulling at the hem of your shorts. You kept as still as possible as his large hands pulled your shorts down around your ankles, revealing your wet pussy. 
“Agh, fuck,” is all he could say as he suddenly sat up for a moment. 
You could hear shuffling in the background, most likely him taking off his boxers, hearing some kind of fabric being thrown in the air and landing on the floor. You felt his hands back on you, before feeling the tip of cock press up against your cunt, slipping and sliding in between your lips, gathering some of your juices. With a final swipe, before you knew it, you felt him press the tip at your pussy, your body trembling as he began to push it. 
“Baby, baby fuck–”
He pushed himself deeper into you, your eyes squeezed shut, your cunt throbbing around him.
“Missed you, missed you so fucking much,”
You had never heard him ramble like that, his usually deep gravelly voice seeped in desperation. His hands gripped at the meat of your thigh, holding your place as he rutted his hips into you. Your lips parted, and the entire area underneath them was drenched with sweat. Your hands tightly squeeze the comforter. The heat was overtaking you, a violent intensity grappling at you. Your thoughts that once ran wild soon became filled with one thought, Shouta. Everything about him was different, the way his voice hit your ears, each syllable easily ripping a new reaction out of you. It was only a matter of time before you lost control before he knew you were awake, feeling everything he was doing to you. 
“My wife, my pretty wife,” he groaned, his hands moving up and about.
“How could I fucking stay away from you?”
With his strength, he moved you about with ease. You no longer lay at your side, but instead, your knees dug into the mattress, your stomach lying against the bed. He pressed his hand against your back, your back arching up against him. He never pulled his cock out of you, staying snug inside you as he positioned you to where he wanted you to be. 
As soon as you were in position, he held no mercy towards you. Pounding away at you, like a man with nothing else to live for at that moment but to ravage you. Tears welled in your eyes as absolute euphoric pleasure took over you, it came as quick as lighting. With the sudden overload on your senses, your control over your actions snapped.
A moan slipped out of your lips, the sound causing him to falter for just a moment. With the wet sound of skin against skin, he leaned down once more, moving his long hair out of his face, finally allowing him to see the tears streaming down your face, your eyes slightly opened, rolled to the back of your head, mouth agape with spit dripping down.
One of Shouta’s hands stayed at your hips while the other suddenly reached down, wrapping around underneath your chin, pulling your body upwards with ease. Your hands propped you up as he pulled your head back, your eyes locking. The position allowed you to see just how frenzied your husband looked. His thick fat cock plunging mg into you, each movement only escalating him more and more.
“How long have you been awake sweetheart? Huh, liked what I was doing to you? Hmm?”
You tried to speak, but the only thing that could slip out of your mouth was pleas if you could even call it that.
“Daddy, Daddy-fuck, it’s too–fuck!” You screeched, gripping at the pillow as your eyes squeezed shut, overcome by the sudden frenzied thrusts your husband was sending your way. 
“Dirty little slut, letting me think you were asleep ? How long were you awake for?”
For a moment, you couldn’t answer him, only focused on the effervescent volcano building up within you. All of a sudden, his thrusts slowed down, causing you to whine as you looked back at his teary eyes. 
“I asked you, how long have you been awake?”
“Since the moment—ahh– you walked in! Since the moment, you walked in, please don’t stop fucking me, Daddy!”
Shouta suddenly pulled all the way out, your cunt only squeezing around the tip of his fat cock, before slamming it back into you, almost hitting and bruising your cervix. Both you and his own moans and groans echoed into the air, mixing together in a beautiful melody. His hand left your chin, your body flopping forward for a couple seconds before suddenly feeling your arms being jerked back. Your moans became scream-like as he grabbed at both of your wrists, suddenly pulling your arms back. 
“Fuck,” he cursed, hissing as he pummeled into you, “so fucking tight–huh, you like the way I fuck you, huh?”
You could barely get any words out, shaking your head vigorously, clenching around him. Every plunge into your cunt devoured you, your husband’s moans and groans had your body trembling. His growls reverberated within your ears, only causing your body to curl in pleasure. 
“I said,” he suddenly cut into your thoughts, your body jerking up even further, “you like the way I fuck you, slut”
“Yes, daddy!”
Shouta’s chuckle was deep, and his thrusts only overwhelmed you even further. You relished in the way your skin took the pain, feeling the bloom and sting tingle all over you. If you could blush, you knew the bottom of your thighs would be blooming red. Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, your eyes rolling out the back of your head. All of a sudden, Shouta dropped your arms, your body flopping, back arching into the bed as his hands gripped at the flesh at your hips and butt. His thrusts became erratic in nature, his already broken-down composure crumbling even further. You could hear his breathy words, soaking in the neediness laced within them. 
“Missed you so fucking much, my wife– my fucking wife.”
“Look so fucking pretty, so fucking senstive f’ me.”
“Missed this pretty fucking pussy, hate how much I have to leave you–fuck!”
Shouta’s body lurched, towering over your own. You could feel his sweat dripping down from his body, falling like light rain into your almost bareback, your thin night-top crumpled up at your bosom. Your hands crumpled up the blankets and sheets underneath you, the feeling of your tongue slightly grazing against the fabric. Your words soon dulled out, the only thing on your tongue was your monas and coherent words putting together the title you called him in bed. You could feel your cunt tightening up around him, like a ticking time bomb going off within you. 
“Such a sweet fucking pussy– fuck–” his body suddenly lunched, the bruising grip he had on your hip tightening. 
Your body convulsed, shaking in his hold as your mind went blank white, tears streaking out of your eyes as your climax ripped out of you, your juices spilling and ripping all over him. 
“Daddy!—”  your final words cut, your voice echoing against the white walls of your room.
With a final grunt, you felt your husband slump over, feeling his dick twitching inside of you, painting your walls white. Soon, the only thing you could hear was the sounds of your heavy breathing, both your and Shouta’s as well. You let out a whimper as you felt him pull out his cock out of you, leaving you with withdrawal. Without him letting go of your hips, your legs fully slumped onto the wet bed. With hands still around you, shrieking as he swept you up from the bed. You held onto him as your husband slowly got off the bed, turning your head to see him slip into your bedroom’s bathroom, using one hand to turn the light on. He placed you on the toilet, before walking to your sink. You couldn't help the soft smile that slowly appeared on your face as you heard the faucet turn on. 
He walked back over with a rag, slowly opening up your legs as you both felt and saw your cum mixed with his, dripping down your inner thigh. He moved the warm rag against your skin, letting out a short gasp as he grazed the rag against your sensitive cunt, cleaning up the main source of the mess. You heard your husband let out a breath of a chuckle, seeing a ghost of a smirk etched on his face. Your soft smile turned abashed as your hand reached up, smacking him slightly on his shoulder. Your brick house of a husband didn’t even flinch from your smack, continuing to clean you up. Soon you could feel nothing but the touch of water on your legs. Once finished, your husband slowly pulled your soaked shorts down the rest of the way, before tossing them into your laundry hamper. With nothing else, he carried you back to the bed. 
The two of you slipped underneath the sheets, his arm easily wrapping your waist as he pulled you close. You had no use of the pillows, using your husband’s naked chest, humming at the warmth that radiated off of his body. Before you knew it, you had laid a soft kiss against the beefy shoulder of your husband, before snuggling back into him. You both heard and felt him move, smiling as you felt a soft pressure against the top of your head, feeling the sensation of lips. With that, you drifted off to sleep, slowly hearing your own husband’s snores echo into her. 
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ghoul-bonez · 2 years ago
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~To You He Feels Like Home~
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(Neteyam x Fem! Na’vi! Reader)
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Summary: You were always a wild child, literally and figuratively. You were raised by the forest and by the creatures that lived within it, and you would never want it any other way, but when you were discovered by another Na’vi you are overcome with curiosity although the animals that raised you always warned you about the outsiders.
Word Count: 5.1k
Author’s Note: This is my longest oneshot to date, at 5.1k words & 11 google docs pages, and I’ve been working on it for weeks now… Hopefully you guys will like it :D This fic was inspired by @imeanwhynotbruv ‘s Mowlie! Spider AU which I LOVE!!! Very excited for y’all to read :)
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~Last - Next~
~Series Masterlist~
~Main Masterlist~
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To You He Feels Like Home
You were always wild, even as a young child. Part of that could be attributed to who was raising you, how you were being raised, and part of it was because of your personality. It came down to nurture versus nature, or nurture and nature.
You were wild by nurture, raised by the Great Mother, by her forest, and by the animals that inhabited it. In particular there was a mother palulukan who had taken you into her den with her two cubs. She was your protector, your teacher, your mother. She loved you, and that was all you needed.
You were wild by nature, always bouncing around, never able to sit still. You were fierce and strong, stubborn at times, and intelligent as could be, which you used to your advantage. It was good for your survival, but exhausting to your mother palulukan, and the other animals who had taken you under their wings to teach you different survival skills.
They had all had a part in your upbringing, every animal teaching you something different. Their lessons had turned you into the woman you were today, they had taught you how to survive, and not just that, but how to thrive.
The palulukan had taught you to fight, how to attack and pounce, and win. She had taught you to protect yourself in any situation. She had taught you that no matter how small you were, how weak you may seem to your opponent, that there would always be a way to come out on top.
The syaksyuk had taught you how to swing from tree to tree, how to escape from harm's way quickly, may you choose not to fight. They taught you about community and how to work together to get to your goal.
The yerik had taught you how to scare off predators, and if that didn’t work how to run, how to pace yourself and run for longer than you thought you could. They taught you to stay calm, to not let fear overtake you as you ran.
The nantang made sure you knew how to hunt, how to stalk then attack and finish off your prey. They made sure you could feed yourself. They made you work in a team, to take everyone's different skills into account.
The ikrans that visited from the mountains taught you how to navigate the air, although you could only do so with their help. They would show you how different different parts of the land were. They showed you what you and your family of creatures looked from above.
Your upbringing was untraditional and many Na’vi would question how you had even survived, but you knew how. There was a sense of community in your animal family that could never be rivaled. You wouldn't have it any other way.
Of course there were still things you had to teach yourself, like weaving and making clothes. This had taken some trial and error as you had started as a very young child, needing to form this skill for more protection against the elements and the forest. You had figured it out later than you would have liked, but eventually you got there and had created your own outfits.
Then you had to teach yourself how to make weapons, and how to use them. You had mastered making spears out of branches when you were young, and quickly moved on to finding hard enough materials to make knives and other blades. When your mother palulukan had noticed your proficiency of making weapons she had started bringing back lost Na’vi weapons like bows and hunting knives.
After lots of trials and errors, from carving the body wrong to tying the sting wrong, you had mastered making a bow. You had found the perfect type of wood, strong enough to hold up, but soft enough to carve. You had found the perfect string made from woven plant fibers. When you carved your final masterpiece the curve of the wood was perfect and the string strung tightly enough to work perfectly.
Then came using it. You had never seen anyone use one, and your mother palulukan refused to let you anywhere near other Na’vi, so you struggled. You had tried over, and over, and over again, and eventually it paid off. Your stance was wrong to most, strange looking to others, but it worked perfectly for you.
With all of your combined skills, ones the animals of Pandora had taught you and ones you had taught yourself, you had become a lethal hunter. Once you proved yourself capable your mother palulukan let you off on your own.
At the age of eighteen years you had been sent free, allowed to explore as you wanted, and so you did. You ran through the forest with excitement coursing through your veins. You climbed and swung from tree to tree without a care for your safety. You swam in streams and shook the water from your loose hair as you resurfaced. You hunted for your own food, coming up successful every time.
You felt free.
You had been so used to your mother palulukan hunting for you that doing it on your own was enthralling. It gave you a rush unlike any other, but you never took more than you and your family could eat, dragging it back home to your palulukan family’s den.
Your little family had never eaten like this before. They had never had a meal every day, sometimes going as many as five days without food, instead giving leftovers to you, the little Na’vi they had taken in who needed it more than they did. Now you made sure they were fed daily, you took care of them like they had you.
As much as you loved the takedown of your prey, your favorite part of hunting was the stalking. You loved tracking things, finding a scent trail and following it until you found prints in the ground. You loved watching the prey once you found it, staying hidden in the shadows and observing.
Sometimes you would even track when you weren’t hunting, practicing for later or simply wanting to observe the other animals of the forest. You especially loved watching the nantang packs as they were similar to your family but also so different.
Today had been no different, you had been out searching for the trail of a nantang pack wanting to watch and observe. However that plan changed when you caught a whiff of something you had never smelled before. It reminded you of something, yourself, but you didn’t know why.
You couldn’t help but do what you do best, stalk. You followed the scent, staying close to the ground, slinking around, and watching the dirt for prints from any type of animal. When the trail stopped and there were no prints in sight you were confused, where had it gone, you questioned.
Then it hit you, the trees, it had to be in the trees. You weren’t in the mood to climb right now, not wanting a chase in the trees, but you might not have a choice. You took a breath, steadying and readying yourself, slowly looking up to the trees to see what you would be chasing, and once you caught sight of what it was you gasped.
It was you, not quite, but something like you.
He had your blue skin, stripes laid across his skin and white freckles splattered across his body and face. He had your dark hair, but his was put up in braids, something you had no idea you could do. He had your large golden eyes which were widened just like yours right now.
You were perplexed. You knew you weren’t the same as your family, you knew you looked completely different, not the same species, but you hadn’t ever seen another person like you. You didn’t know there were other people like you.
The other person looked just as shocked as you, and he was. You looked Omaticaya, but he had never seen you before, and he had seen everyone in his clan as the next Olo’eyktan in training. He hoped you weren’t Omaticaya because of how rough of shape you were in. He never wanted anyone in his clan to be in this rough of shape.
You had scapes all over your body, little scars scattered where past cuts had been. Your hair was loose and messy, knotted and in need of a good brush and braid. As he studied the strange girl in front of him he was concerned for you, for the state you were in, but to you the unkempt hair and scars and nicks that cover your body are normal.
To you they feel like home.
To you the scrapes and scars, the cuts and nicks, feel like home. They feel like the forest as you run through the underbrush, barely dodging trees and roughly catching your arms against them accidentally. They feel like jumping into streams and rivers, scraping your knees on the rocks at the bottom as the current sweeps you off your feet. They feel like hunting as you accidentally catch your finger with your blade as you finish off your prey.
To him they were worrying, they showed pain and danger, but to you that was normal, pain and danger were regular parts of your life. To him it wasn’t, and he felt the need to make sure you were okay. You were standing strongly so clearly you weren’t too injured, but the idea of you being one of his people made him feel the need to check you over, to help you.
He jumped down from his hiding spot, gracefully landing in front of you, and suddenly you took off. You sprinted away, terrified of the stranger. You wanted to make your way back home, back to your mother palulukan and the den you called home. You wanted to be safe, you wanted to feel safe.
The man lagged for a second, thinking, before deciding to follow you, taking off after you. The chase went on for a while, his lungs burned as he kept up with you, close behind, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep up, and you didn’t seem to be slowing down.
“Wait, I just want to help!” He shouted after you, but that seemed to spook you more and you sped up.
You had no idea what the strange man had said, but his loud voice scared you. The sounds he was making were foreign to you, and it frightened you. He was communicating in a way you never had before. The way you communicated with your family was hisses and growls.
You were a good runner, had good stamina, but he seemed to be keeping up, although you could tell he was getting tired. The unfortunate part was you were getting tired too, and you would have to stop soon. You figured it would be good to stop sooner than later so you had enough energy to fight in case the need arose.
You saw a clearing to the right and zagged that way before stopping on the far end of it, crouched down like a palulukan, ready to pounce. The man stopped on the other side, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. Like this he looked less scary, he looked weak as he was out of breath, like you could win this fight easily.
He looked at you through the braids that had fallen in his face, and his eyes held no malice. He wanted you to feel safe, or as safe as possible, around him, so he showed his weakness as he was out of breath. He wanted you to know he wasn’t going to hurt you as he showed you had easily outran him.
However you still felt threatened.
Your eyes were blown wide, adrenaline coursing through you as your mind ran a mile a minute. Your ears pinned against your head and you let out a wild hiss at the man, bearing your teeth and snapping them together a few times as a threat.
He didn’t challenge you back, instead dropping to the ground to sit with his legs crossed, arms in the air as a sign of surrender, or peace, that he meant no harm. He tried to make himself look harmless, tried to make himself look smaller.
Your face scrunched up in confusion, why wasn’t he challenging you, you asked yourself. You weren’t convinced he meant to harm You couldn’t let your guard down, and your hand flew to your knife at your hip as you snarled at him, trying to elicit a reaction.
He then realized he had his own weapons on him and he lifted his bow over his head from where it rested against him, and threw it to the side. He hesitated as he took his knife out of its holder, but he threw it next to his bow a few feet away.
“They're gone, okay.” He pointed to the weapons where they laid, “I want to help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” He tried to explain.
Again you didn’t understand him, ears twitching at the unfamiliar sounds. Now you were more stressed than before. You stayed in place, ears pinned to your head again as you growled, but your hand moved away from your knife.
“There we go.” He spoke as your hand fell to your side, “What's your name?” He asked.
You felt the adrenaline wearing off, exhaustion starting to catch up to you and making you less hostile than before, blurring the lines of your fear. Your eyes were narrowed as your head tilted to the side, a questioning look on your face. You were scared because you couldn’t understand him, but you became more curious the more he spoke.
His voice was interesting, smooth and calming. You hadn’t heard anything like it before, and although you looked similar you weren’t sure if you could make the same sounds as him, accustomed to growls and hisses.
When you didn’t say anything back the man tried something different. He pointed to himself, “Neteyam.” Then he pointed to you, humming, “Hm?”
You growled back, trying to communicate the only way you knew how. He just cringed, taking it as aggressive while you were simply trying to voice your confusion.
He tried again, “Neteyam…” He pointed to himself, not saying anything else afterwards.
“Neteyam.” You whispered, only loud enough for you to hear. Then you cleared your throat, “Neteyam.” You parroted.
“Yes. Neteyam.” He nodded, happy you seemed to be getting somewhere, “You?” He asked, pointing to you.
“Hm?” You hummed, copying the noise he had made to you earlier. You thought it was a questioning sound, and you hoped your assumption was correct.
Something clicked to Neteyam, “You can’t understand me, can you?” He asked, not particularly expecting an answer.
“Hm?” You questioned again.
“Okay…” He took a second to think. Who were you? Where did you come from?
“Neteyam.” You spoke again, getting his attention. You then pointed to yourself and growled, you seemed to be trying to communicate something, and you were. You had growled your name, what your palulukan family called you.
He didn’t quite understand you, “Hm?” He asked.
You just growled again, pointing to yourself. Clearly this wasn’t getting anywhere.
“I’m going to give you a name, or a nickname I guess.” He told you, but you didn’t understand. If you had known what he had said you would have disagreed adamantly, you don’t need a different name, you have one already, but you didn’t understand, so when he pointed to you and said, “(Y/n).” The name sounded beautiful, and you loved the way it rolled off his tongue.
Your head tilted to the side, confusion written on your face, but you didn’t protest. Instead you nodded your head, seeming content, “Neteyam.” You pointed to him, “(Y/n), hm?” You pointed to yourself questioningly.
He smiled, “Yes.”
“Yes.” You copied him, but you weren’t smiling, still confused by the foreign words.
He patted the ground in front of him, inviting you to sit by him, but you don’t approach, instead sitting where you were a few feet away. He seems so calm, so relaxed, as he sits with his legs crossed and arms behind his as he leans on them. You however are stiff, skittish, as you sit on your knees, hands in your lap. You looked ready to take off at any second.
Neteyam tried to calm you down with reassuring words, even though he knew you couldn’t understand him, his calm tone seemed to take off the edge. You were scared of him, but slowly starting to believe he meant no harm. He wasn’t dangerous.
As you sat there with him he went on, and on, talking about whatever came to mind with that smooth tone. You could sit there and listen to him talk forever, but soon the sky is darkening and you realize it is time to head back home, to the comfort of your den, your mother would be waiting for you when you get there. She would be ready to allow you to cuddle up next to her and let go of the stress of today.
You’re not frantic when you stand up, instead more fixed on having a mission, to get home, but Neteyam doesn’t understand that, and so he stands up after you. You don’t pay him any mind until you start walking away and he follows you. Frustrated that he’s trying to follow you, you hold your hand out towards him, hissing.
“No!” You shout, a word you had picked up from Neteyam talking to you.
“Oh.” Neteyam simply comments. You were a quick learner apparently, picking up on the word and figuring out how to use it already.
You turn away and start walking off, and this time he doesn’t follow you, waving towards you and saying, “Goodbye, (Y/n).” He pauses before saying quieter, “I hope I see you again.” Not loud enough for you to hear.
Your mother palulukan was confused that night when you came home without a meal, but when you broke down in tears she moved to comfort you. You let out all of the stress from over the past few hours in tears and sobs, and eventually you stilled, fell asleep on her large warm body, and finally you rested.
You had intended to never see Neteyam again, but you kept running into him. It was frustrating and confusing. You had no idea why it kept happening, but of course you knew Eywa had a plan for everyone, and everything happens for a reason, but you weren’t sure why she was so insistent on putting you and Neteyam together.
The day after your first encounter you had your second meeting. You had been trying to hunt when you somehow ended up back at the clearing. You weren’t sure how you ended up there, but you gave in, sitting with him for a while before continuing your hunt.
The third time, the third day in a row now, you had been napping in a completely different area of the forest when you woke up to Neteyam looking at you curiously. It wasn’t necessarily in a creepy way, but it had spooked you at first before you calmed down. This time you did not stick around, walking off with a dismissive grunt to Neteyam.
The fourth time, a few days later, he had found you while you had been frolicking around in the Hallelujah Mountains. You had been hiding out there, trying to avoid him by not even being in the forest, but he had found you again somehow.
That went on, and on, until you admitted defeat, accepted your fate, Eywa was determined to have you and Neteyam together, and who were you to deny the Great Mother’s will. She knew all, and you trusted her, so you took her lead.
Every time you ran into Neteyam you would spend a little more time with him, and eventually that time built into hours, and then days, from sunrise to sunset you would spend your hours with him. You cherished your time with Neteyam and he certainly enjoyed your company, your attention.
Your palulukan mother was less than pleased with how much time you were spending with the Na’vi boy, but she understood you needed companionship with your own kind. She figured you would grow curious eventually and would venture out in search of people like you, and she was proud of you for making a friend, but she wished you would be home a little more.
When you finally gave into spending time with Neteyam you figured you should learn how to communicate, learn to speak his language. You would much rather teach him yours, but yours was more general emotions and less words, less actual conversation and more communicating how you're feeling through growls and hisses, hunched shoulders and bared teeth.
Today you were sitting by a river, somewhere Neteyam had shown you, as he tried to teach you the Na’vi language.
Neteyam pointed to different features on his face as you named them quietly, touching them on your own face as you went, “Ears. Eyes. Nose. Mouth.”
“Good job!” He praised you, a smile on both of your faces.
You were learning slowly, struggling to pick up a second language so much different from your first, but when you grasped a certain word you had it for good. You had started using the words you knew in basic sentences like “How you?” when you would first see him. You would listen intently as if you knew everything he was saying although you only picked up on certain words.
What really got Neteyam was when you would say goodbye when you parted ways at the end of the day. Instead of saying “Goodbye.” or something similar you would blurt out “Love you!” as you walked away.
It always got Neteyam’s heart beating in his chest, hard, and he couldn’t help but smile every time. He would say, “Goodbye (Y/n). Love you too.” because the one time he hadn’t reciprocated you had pouted and nearly cried.
He didn’t think you understood the significance of those words, of the word love, but you definitely did. You didn’t use it lightly, it being the only word you had learned to describe how you were feeling for Neteyam, and it described your feelings perfectly.
You truly did love him, as a friend, maybe more.
You appreciated what he did for you, but it went so much deeper than that. You loved how he was patient with you, giving you all the time you needed. You loved his voice, how he would talk to you even if you didn’t understand. You loved how he laughed, how he smiled, how his eyes seemed to glow when he was around you.
You love him.
You loved him like you loved the forest, it’s green foliage keeping you safe throughout your life. You loved him like you loved your mother palulukan, like a warm hug at the end of the day. You loved him like you loved the sounds that played all around you constantly, drowning out your negative thoughts.
You love him like home.
As you were mulling over your feelings, thinking whatever came to your mind, you had been zoning out, gone silent as you looked off into the distance. Neteyam took this chance to mess with you a little. He scooped up some water from the stream in his hands and threw it on you, bringing you out of your thoughts as the cool water hit your face.
You gasped, “Neteyam!”
He just laughed, pointing at you as your jaw was dropped, brow muscles raised, and eyes open wide. Your look of offense amused him and your look quickly switched to a scowl, and Neteyam felt himself still, that was never a good look on you.
You moved quickly, smiling mischievously splashing water onto him too. He looked surprised, like he hadn’t expected this from you, and you used that to your advantage, splashing him again, harder this time, with more water.
This time he was quick to move, trying to grab you and throw you into the deeper part of the river, but your reflexes were faster than him and you got up, running away like a mad woman. You smiled before jumping into the river, submerging your lower body before he could do it for you.
You thought hard, trying to form a coherent sentence, when you thought you had it you shouted, “Come get me!” Taunting him.
As you taunted him he just smiled, a sense of childish joy overcoming him. It reminded him of when he was younger. When he and his siblings would play in streams closer to home. When his father would play with them. It reminded him of family, you were quickly becoming family, but in a deeper way.
He loved you like family, he loved you like a calm afternoon at home with everyone sitting around, talking and playing games. He loved you like a partner, someone to share his own home with, where his family could come over for dinner and share stories. He loved you like someone new to the family, like someone his family could learn to love.
He loves you.
“Oh yeah?” Neteyam asked, smirking at you. He stayed where we was on the river bank, feet barely in the water.
“Yeah!” You shouted, challenging him by splashing the water around you.
He seemed to be contemplating it, over exaggerating his movements dramatically, “I don’t know… I might just stay here…” He joked.
You frowned, not understanding his joking tone of voice, “Fine…” You turned away from him, getting ready to leave the river.
However you didn’t get the chance when you heard splashing behind you, and it was too late. He ran up to you splashing you, getting your entire back wet, including your hair.
You whipped around, gasping both at the cold water and the shock of not expecting it. You shouted at him, arms crossed over your chest, “Rude!”
Neteyam laughs loudly, “Oh I’m rude? You’re the one who told me to come get you.” He defended himself, rolling his eyes.
“You…” You thought of what word to use, not sure what the word for this action was, you settled on, “hit me first!”
Neteyam was quick to correct you, “Splash, the word is splash.” He really did not want you telling people he was hitting you if you ever met his clan. He hoped it was less of an if, and more of a when.
You took in the information, “You splash me first.” You shrugged your shoulders, feeling you won the conversation.
“And I’ll do it again!” Neteyam laughed, running at you, ready to throw more water in your face, but you turned to run away from his attack.
As you were running you slipped, falling to your knees and feeling pain shoot through one of them, “Ow.” You hissed out.
Neteyam was quick to rush to your side, helping you up and walking you to the edge of the river where you sat down. You inspected the cut, it wasn’t much and you would be okay in a day or so, “I am okay.” You tried to assure Neteyam.
Neteyam frowned, “I’m sorry. Let me fix you up?” He asked.
You knew if you said no he would practically beg you to let him help you, so you gave in, “Okay.”
Neteyam sat down, pulling your leg over his lap so he had better access to your knee. He inspected the small wound, thinking about what Kiri had told him would be best for it.
He was quick to pull out the little pouch of healing equipment he had, herbs and plants, pastes and drinks, he was equipped for anything. He had decided to carry anything he would need to treat your small cuts and scrapes because every time you would see him you would have more and more. They never seemed to stop coming, so he promised he would do his best to help you.
He pulled out a paste you recognized, and before he could speak you mocked him, attempting to copy his voice, “This one will sting.” You fell into a fit of giggles afterwards.
He just chuckled at you, “You’re right.” You seemed to always be right, you picked up on other things, besides learning the Na’vi language, easily.
You smiled, sighing happily, “I know.”
Neteyam hums, smiling at you , “Tell me, how have you been? What have you done today?” He tried to distract you while he put the paste on.
It worked as you quickly responded, “It has been great. I have gotten to see you…” You trailed off, smiling shyly, before continuing, “This morning I went on a hunt, took food home to my mom. My siblings are moving out finally, so it is just us now. Less mouths to feed.”
“Good… Neteyam answered simply, focusing on what he was doing as he wrapped a bandage around your knee.
“Thank you.” You pulled his face up to look at you, a small smile was on your face, lips gently curved, eyes softened to liquid gold, “For everything.”
He sighed, content, as his face melted into your hand, pressing your skin to his, “It’s really no big deal. I would do anything for you. I would get you anything you need, anything you want.” He admitted softly, quietly.
You smiled, leaning in and pressing your forehead to his, “I know, and Eywa do I love it. I love you.”
He smiles back, the happiness reaching his eyes, and if you listen close enough you can hear his heart thumping in his chest, ready to pop out, “I love you too, (Y/n). I see you, and I will show you that every day.
Every time he tends to your wounds he is so careful, he is so careful with you. He is careful in a way the forest has never been, in a way it never will be in the future. The forest gives you safety in the form of protection through the hard and marred skin you have covering your body. The forest shows you its love through injuries you’ve sustained from your years of survival, it gives you love by allowing you to survive.
Now you don’t need the love of the forest, you need the love of him. He feels like scars, and bruises, and cuts, and pain. He feels like safety. Like how you once had found safety and solace in the cuts and bruises you bared, how your unkempt hair and scars felt like your home, to you he feels like home.
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Word Bank:
Great Mother (Eywa)
Palulukan (Thanator)
Syaksyuk (Prolemuris)
Yerik (Hexaped)
Nantang (Viperwolf)
Ikran (Mountain Banshee)
Omaticaya (Forest Na’vi)
Olo’eyktan (Clan leader)
Eywa (Na’vi goddess)
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weebsinstash · 6 months ago
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Random 'extra yandere' Alastor things because I've been working on a fic and I feel like my yandere aren't yandere'ing enough
- I haven't seen anyone mention this as an idea but like ... why do I see Alastor getting cuteness aggression from his darling? You're really happy and you like idk say something genuine or goofy or happy or you stim or something and he's here "oh, i could just eat you up!" and hugging you so hard it makes you wheeze for air. Would he ever bite you though? Or gently "roughhouse" you? He's kinda feral w it so 😳
- Alastor strikes me as a yandere who would dry your tears with one of his handkerchiefs and then some time later you find out he didn't wash it because it had You Juice on it
- I'm not saying he's hiding in the bushes with a Polaroid or anything but I feel like he'd constantly invite you along to parties or events he's going to where he knows pictures might be taken and he has an absolutely HUGE album of you. He prefers sepia and black and white photographs the most of course, but he'll accept the occasional social media print-out that he may or may not have forced someone else to acquire for him
- this is so lowkey funny but the idea has been growing on me of like. Alastor forcing literally fucking forcing Husker to help him with his obsessive bullshit because Husker has a cellphone. Alastor sees Husker thirstscrolling through Angel's social media, and suddenly the Radio Demon has an idea. "You wouldn't happen to be able to look up my, er, little friend would you?"
Imagine you're like out running errands or even st a club or, somewhere NOT the Hotel and you're suddenly getting a call from... Husker? How weird, he doesn't call you often and you only have his number as another Hotel-goer, so hopefully nothing is wrong? And you answer the phone to Alastor talking far too loudly into the receiver, "HELLO? HELLO, IS THIS BLASTED THING WORKING? I DONT WANT TO BRING IT TOO CLOSE TO MY FACE BECAUSE OF THE RADIATION AND ALL, HAVE YOU PICKED UP YET MY DEAR? HUSKER MY BOY YOU SAID THIS DEVICE WAS WORKING-" like literally actually, this grown ass man who is forcing this other grown ass man who i think age wise is also older than him to do shit like, "what's that photograph in their publications there? Select it. Why is that man standing so close to them? What does HIS 'page' look like? He seems like a rather unsavory fellow who shouldn't be around someone as sweet as-"
- i feel like Alastor has a lot of threatening power purely in his social connections and his own little net of information. Imagine sneaking away from him to go to a speakeasy or something and the bartender already has your photo and knows to keep an eye on you and give Alastor a call if you show up. Imagine going to a jazz club Alastor had taken you to and everyone is nice and friendly and maybe a little TOO friendly because they heard an entirely true rumor about a man who got torn to pieces for asking aloud "so who's that sweet piece over there?" referring to you while Alastor was within earshot
- I dunno if I've mentioned this before but. I like the idea of him meeting his red string soulmate and he's just immediately "well I suppose the proper thing to do is get married then!" Like the man considers it "the traditional way to do things" and just immediately decides that since you two are essentially eternally bound together already, OBVIOUSLY the next step is to be married! I'm talking week one you meet this man and he's insisting the two of you immediately find a living place to share together. Like he might not even be "full yandere" yet but he starts putting you through the motions and gets progressively more attached with time. Day 1 is exchanging names and pleasantries. By Day 4 or 5 he insisting you two sleep in the same house, and eventually, the same bed (partially because he may or may not. Miss you when you're gone)
- imagine a yandere Alastor who is so unwilling to part with you that if he needs to go torture someone or do something unpleasant, he'll just... bring you along. Leaves you nice and cozy in a nice chair with a hot cocoa as he excuses himself to the next room followed by UNIMAGINABLE SCREAMS OF SUFFERING before he returns dripping with blood, "Boy, that one was a GUSHER!" *proceeds to kiss your forehead and drip blood on you and does not care*
- ok so I haven't posted this yet but. Imagine if instead of "patching themselves back together" that when you die in Hell you just respawn in a new body and the old one is still left behind, and you get into a random accident and die and you find out Alastor has been keeping pieces of your body and he's been. Eating you. Drooling heart pupils level of down bad, gorging on your meat, bare handing raw dogging that shit, having your blood seeping between his teeth and fingers. Imagine going into his room and there's a fridge and you open the door and you can tell it's your body because there's just like a whole ass leg that has your tattoo or an old scar. How do you even have that fucking conversation.
You go to shut the fridge and decide you're going to pretend you never saw anything because now you know Oh My God He's Like Actually Genuinely Fucking Nuts and he's already behind you when you turn around😱 and he acts like nothing is wrong. May even joke about how good you taste. Tells a joke about how it would be rather unfortunate if you got hit by a car again, but, hey, maybe you should give him a call whenever more of your meat is available-
- I wanna make a fic out of it because I literally have the fic outlined in my head already but, you know how he's eating just a normal fucking deer in that one episode. Or, if it's not an Earth deer, it doesn't look like it's from Hell at all. I started thinking about what if certain demons know shortcuts or special tricks to still access the human world (if blitz can get a crystal, why not anyone else?) and I love the idea of a Farmer Reader who has wolves eating their livestock and you stake out in the woods in the dead of night and you find out the wolves are only eating your sheep because something has been eating all the deer, and you witness the Radio Demon with your own eyes, horrified at this horned humanoid creature that bends and snaps at angles that just aren't right, with you managing to snipe him right through the head, and he just laughs and praises you for your great shot, and he keeps repeatedly ahowing up on your farm, and he unintentionally or not causes your death and wants you to be with him in Hell. Like you're a good person but you've also done shit where he knows you're gonna go to Hell so he's doing some dramatic shit like cradling your dying body and being all :) eerily happy and jovial as he muses what you might look like "in that awful place down below"
- Hmmmm. Alastor allegedly isn't very materialistic but I like the idea of like. Once he decides how cute and sweet and adorable his darling is, he wants to get you only the best. It won't be, like, EXCESSIVE in the sense Vox could be, but, if he gets you gifts, they're always of a certain level of quality. If he begins to style and dress you, he wants you in high quality fabrics that will last and don't have any unsavory materials or harsh colorants in it. I may or may not like the idea of him taking you to a tailor and he gets you an outfit to match his very own and if anyone ever gets a speck of dirt on it or anything else he's gotten you to wear, they're getting absolutely fucking MOLLYWOPPED
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andromeda-nova-writing · 1 year ago
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Unpacking in the Infirmary
Fem!Reader
Summary: Restock day in the Infirmary has always been important for those who live in the Fortress. Especially with it being that place to go if something were to happen to an inmate or one of the staff members. With the amount of times Wriothesley has gotten hurt over the years, it's not surprising he ended up in there on one of those restock days. Though he didn't think he would also help with unpacking things as well.
Words: 3,039
AN: Once again I wrote a majority of this on my phone. I honestly can't believe how much I've written on my phone this year already. Hopefully, this doesn't become a major habit. Thank you @milkstore for reading over the fic. You caught so many mistakes due to my phone thinking capitalizing mid-sentence is a normal thing to do.
Warnings: Blood, Minor Injuries, Cleaning a wound. I personally wouldn't consider it too detailed but if you find any of that uncomfortable please go check out one of my other Wriothesley fics.
“You two should go take your lunch break already. I ate a late breakfast.” Y/N lifted a box of supplies from the surface and placed it on the table. Restock days had become important for her to be there for. It was easier to have someone who was not a Melusine to do any heavy lifting.
“You look tired. Are you sure you don't want to take a break now?” Sigewinne asked. Although her ask was more of telling her to take a break.
“I'll take a break when you or Ottnit get back. I promise.” She reassured Sigewinne. “Plus if we time breaks right we can get this done fast.”
Ottnit looked at Y/N before looking at Sigewinne. “She has a date.” She guessed.
Y/N rolled her eyes hiding a small smile. “Three days from now.” She answered before giving the real reason. “I promised I'd help my mother move her art studio into her new house after work.”
“It's more reason to take a break. You could have requested someone to take your place today.” Sigewinne reasoned.
“I know but I wouldn't have been able to give you those stickers for another week. It's been pretty peaceful down here lately. Let me have work as an excuse to see you two.” Y/N looked back to the box and grabbed a boxcutter to rid it of tape. “Just go enjoy lunch. You're just delaying how long till I take a break.”
Sigewinne accepted fate not wanting to argue it creating more of the delay. She and Ottnit left the infirmary for lunch. The room was left quiet while Y/N took inventory on the restock.
All the things that needed to be under a lock had been put away already. Next would be anything they kept out in the infirmary that should be easy to grab. Lastly, restocking the various first aid kits that were around the Fortress. Any mobile ones had been brought in already in the morning. The large stationary ones would be the last thing for today or one of the first things in the morning.
It was mindless work to her at this point. Open the box, check the inventory slip in the box, count to see if the amount matches, and mark off on the checkbox of what was requested if it matches. And if it didn’t, make a note. It was always easy to fall into the rhythm of this work.
Though a bit annoying that the monthly restock day had to line up with her mother's art studio move. There really wasn’t much she could do about it since she wanted to be there for both. Say she did request someone else to go down to the fortress instead of her. Y/N could imagine her coworkers on the surface asking if something was wrong with her and Wriothesley’s relationship. And as funny as it was to watch some of the older ladies try and make threats about if he dared hurt her, there really was no reason to rile them up with nothing.
Y/N finished up the box she had been working with. It was just bandages of different sizes. Luckily everything was all in there. She picked the box back up off the table and placed it within the pile of boxes that had already been checked. She picked up a new box, beginning to repeat the process all over again.
She lost count on the box filled with sterilized gloves when she heard the all-so-familiar knock at the wall. It was a firm but gentle knock that echoed throughout the infirmary.
“Hey.” Wriothesley introduced himself as he made his way down into the room. “By any chance is the hydrogen peroxide already out?”
“The current bottle doesn't have a lot in it but it is out. What happened?” Y/N turned away from the box and moved to get out what he asked for along with some cotton balls and bandages, opting for what was already out in the infirmary.
“There was a fight that broke out and I went to break it up. One guy was upset I was breaking up the fight, so he tried taking a knife out on me. I broke a knife. Now the guards got an eye on the two of them.” Wriothesley explained. He was peeling off the blood-soaked wraps that were around his right hand.
Y/N blinked. “You can't say you broke a knife so casually.” It was moments like that where she knew she still wasn't fully used to his behavior. It didn't matter how long she had known him before they began dating, it wasn't normal to hear anyone say they broke a knife in a fight. She moved into washing her hands.
“No, ‘Are you okay’?” He threw the wraps away in a bin that was meant for Anything that came in contact with any sort of bodily fluids. Also known as the bloody cotton and bandages bin to most of the Fortress. All because they were however many miles under the ocean didn't mean they got to skip important procedures to help keep things safe.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Oh, I'm sorry.” She spoke sarcastically as she dried off her hands. “Your Grace, does your wound cause you great pain? Whatever will I do now that you are gravely injured?”
“Gravely! Shit. It's just some cuts on my palm. Where did you get ‘gravely’ from? It won't kill me.”
“Oh, so you can handle it yourself.” She teased as she pulled gloves on getting ready so she could examine the wound.
“Some nurse you are. I thought going to the infirmary was supposed to be welcoming.”
“That's what you get for asking a pharmacist to be a nurse. I'm nowhere near as welcoming.” She joked. “Go sit on the bed.” She moved fast grabbing a clean pair of tweezers.
“Already sitting down Miss.” He spoke in a smug tone she was all too familiar with.
“If you can recognize that you should already be sitting down I would hope you should recognize that you should be more careful.” She turned around and moved towards Wriothesley. Y/N grabbed his wounded hand. She began picking out any small shards of the knife that had gotten stuck within. Luckily not too many. None were deep within the palm as well.
“I can only try to be more careful so much. If you think about it, I helped you not have to deal with an inmate who had a stab wound on restock day. While everyone but you is out for lunch.” Wriothesley reasoned. He looked at the wound already wondering if the count of scars on his body was about to go up.
“I'll give you that.” Y/N finished up with the first part of cleaning up the wound. She had thrown any remnants of the knife in the trash. “You know you are very lucky that Sigewinne wasn’t here to fuss over you. If I had to listen to her ‘I helped raise you, the least you could do is be careful’ lectures while trying to count and move things around, I might go insane.”
Wriothesley rolled his eyes as he laughed. “Yeah.” He drew out the word with a bit of tiredness. “I guess I should thank you for not telling her.”
“Shit.” It was half a response from the hydrogen peroxide touching the new wound and half from what Y/N had said. He thought he was more used to the sting of his wounds being cleaned by now. “Can’t you just let this slide?”
Y/N raised her eyebrow as she began to dab the hydrogen peroxide onto some cotton balls. “I never said I wasn't going to tell her. If I remember right, which I know I'm remembering right, I still have to write this up in your medical file. No exception for staff. Even if you are the Warden, she’s going to find out regardless.”
“You created more work for me on restock day and think I’m gonna let this slide. After I’m done with this I get to go move a whole art studio.”
“Don’t I get special privileges?”
“Everyone with a title is gonna get the same treatment from me. You forget that?” The blood had been cleaned off his hand. And with the wound clean she could begin focusing on wrapping up the wound on his palm.
“I was going for boyfriend privileges.” Wriothesley continued to try and wiggle his way out of Sigewinne learning what happened.
“I am on the clock and not on break so no special treatment. You lost special treatment the moment you walked into the infirmary. If it's serious enough to seek medical care, it's serious enough to be written in your medical file.” 
“Usually I'm very glad that you take your job seriously.”
“Cause it's my job and it would be inappropriate to change procedures just because the patient is you.” Y/N finished wrapping up his palm leaving him plenty of room to move his hand around but keeping the bandages tight enough to stay on throughout the day. “Change the bandages 3 hours from now. You can either do it yourself or have Sigewinne do it for you.”
Wriothesley moved his fingers around testing how much movement he would have. “Thanks, doll. You sure I can't get you to change it instead?”
“I just said I have to go move an art studio later.” She began putting away anything unused that was okay to keep before throwing everything else out. “Or were you not paying attention to what I was saying?”
“I was. You know I could go and help you if you want.” Wriothesley offered. 
Y/N looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Art Studio. As in my mother's art studio.”
“Yeah. You managed to get a photo out of me and you've been saying that your mother wants to meet me. Every time you’ve tried to set up, something has always come up and if I go with you, then you won’t have to worry if I’m using my right hand or not.” He reasoned. It may have also been a bit of quick thinking to avoid disappointing Sigewinne over that he got hurt again. Two birds with one stone kind of thinking.
“But I was thinking like a dinner so we could all get to talk.” She threw out her gloves before moving to sit on the bed on Wriothesley’s left side. “How are we supposed to talk if we are just packing and moving boxes Ri?”
“I could help, go pick up some food for everyone so you don’t have to sit at a restaurant.” He put his arm around Y/N pulling her closer and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Plus it’s my non-dominant hand that’s hurt so I can still help you.” 
“I’ll just have to take you two out to eat after.” He offered.
“I’m already going to be tired after this and I’m just going to be exhausted after helping her move. I’m not going to want to sit down somewhere for dinner.” Y/N argued.
“What if I’m so tired I don’t even want to talk while we eat?”
“I’ll just carry you to your apartment afterward if you are so tired. Quit worrying your pretty little head over it. You need the brain power for more important things.”
It was a well-needed reminder for her. Sometimes it was just too easy to get caught up in worry. “You must really like me a lot if you are willing to carry me like a sack of potatoes.”
Wriothesley laughed. “I was thinking more like a piggyback ride but if you want to be carried like a sack of potatoes, I can. We really should talk about how you not so secretly want me to manhandle you.” He teased.
Y/N rolled her eyes. “I have work.” 
“I’ll get you after your shift then. We can go up together.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before standing up from the bed. “You can't go on about how much you want your mother to like me and when the perfect opportunity for a good impression comes up, try and stop me from meeting her.”
“But what if it ends up not being perfect?” She looked up at him. “I really care about you. I want my mother to like you. I want my family to like you.”
“Which is why I’m offering to help with a move. Even then if you keep planning for perfection, nothing will get done. You know that.”
“I know not everything can be perfect. I’ve made my peace with that. But I want this to be perfect.” She stood up looking at him. “I want something good for you outside of here as well.” 
“Don’t worry about things like that. Life is good for me now.” He sighed. “It’s not like anything is forcing me to be here all the time. I know there’s good outside. What's bothering you?”
She sighed. “You remember when I said I was volunteering as the person to come down here to help was just to try something new right?” Y/N started as she began to give the real reason.
“Yeah. It's kind of what we encourage here.”
“Well, I got out of a really bad breakup. And my family was just telling me that person wasn't good.”
“You never told me how bad.” He did remember a mention that she got out of a relationship around two and a half years ago when they first met. She never said much about it and who was he to press her about it back then? 
“I was engaged. I almost signed a lease on a new house with them when everything went down. I just feel like I got blindsided by the show they were putting on. If I listened to my family then everything would have been better for me.” She took a deep breath. “So if they like you, nothing like that will happen to me again.”
“And here I was thinking you were just worrying to worry.” Wriothesley shook his head at himself. “Look, I can't control how people are going to view me. And you can't control if your mother will like me or not.”
“I know that. I just want this to be good. I mean I wanted her to like you even before we started dating. You kind of started to become important in my life.” Y/N looked away from him. “Like I think even after I got that breakup, you were definitely part of the reason I stayed.”
“It's going to be okay. It may not be some storybook picture of perfection but it's going to be better if you try and focus on the good.” He placed his left hand on her shoulder trying to ground her back to reality. “What did you say a few weeks ago? I think you said she would steal a single mora to get thrown in here if she didn't get the chance to meet me at this rate.”
Y/N laughed. “Yeah. I had to tell her that's a horrible idea.”
“It's going to be okay.”
She nodded as she spoke. “Okay.” She looked into his eyes falling into the comforting gaze that looked back at her.
“I'll get you after your shift. I still have to fill out paperwork cause of that fight.” Wriothesley kissed her forehead. “I know it's easier said than done, but try not to overthink it.”
“And if I do?”
“Then we will have to find a way to stop you from thinking about that specifically.”
“It better not be by giving me work. Cause I'm going to be so tired tonight.” She looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
“I’m not cruel. I was thinking of making sure you aren’t alone so you don't fall back into your worries. At least so someone can pull you back out if you do.”
“Well, Sigewinne and Ottnit should be back soon. So I won’t be alone for too long.”
“You ate lunch already?” Wriothesley asked.
Y/N looked away again. “I ate a late breakfast so I was going to eat lunch once they got back.”
“In here?” He asked concerned. “What happened to only eating in here when there is only one person available?”
“I was actually going to go out to the cafeteria. I didn't bring anything down for lunch today.” It was a break from her normal habit, mostly because she forgot to grab her lunch before leaving her apartment in the city. The sandwich that she made that now sat in her kitchen would be dearly missed.
Wriothesley sighed. “Guess I'll have to take the important job of keeping you company during lunch.” 
“Don't you also have work?” She raised an eyebrow at him.
“For one, I’m in charge of this place. And two, I still have to eat lunch myself. Also, I think the Fortress can handle itself while I take care of you. I think people know well enough to only disturb me when I'm with you if it's important.” It was something that he noticed was happening long before the two of them got together. It was already common for people would keep their distance due to their various reasons. It must have been learned to give the two space after people had noticed that Wriothesley’s mood would sour when he had to leave for something that didn’t even require his attention.
“Makes me wonder what your definition of important is now.”
“At the moment, it's keeping you out of your worry spiral. Generally a mix of other things, but the only thing taking me away from you is if something requires my attention to be handled. You are at the top of the list at the moment.” Oh, she just wanted to be in his arms after that. 
“The top of the list?”
“Yes.” He nodded.
“Are these girlfriend privileges?”
Wriothesley laughed remembering what he said not so long ago. “You can call it that if you want. I would have done this for you regardless though.”
Y/N gave in, finally hugging him. Maybe things would be okay.
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arc852 · 7 months ago
Text
3. Plush
Definition: something soft or luxurious
Summary: It's been weeks since Jimmy has gotten any sleep and it's really starting to affect him. Grian and Joel notice and try to help.
Warnings: Sleep Deprivation
G/t: Grian and Joel are humans, Jimmy is a borrower
Word Count: 2670
AO3 Link
This is another fic within the Bad Boys Borrower College AU! Or BBBCAU for short, I guess lol.
Also, I realized some of you guys might not know what borrowers are. So here is a quick explanation.
A borrower is a tiny person who is only a few inches tall. They are human in appearance other than their size and their whole thing is living in walls and 'borrowing' things from humans to help them survive, all without being caught. They were created by Mary Norton back in 1952 in the form of a book series! Since then there have been several movie adaptations, including a Studio Ghibli film called The Secret World of Arrietty!
Hopefully that helped! And I hope you enjoy!
______________________________________________________________
 Jimmy had not been getting a lot of sleep lately.
 It used to come to him so easily too, he used to be able to just lay down, close his eyes, and the next thing he knew, it would be morning. He didn’t know how much of a good thing he had until it was gone because nowadays it felt like he wasn’t getting any sleep at all. 
 Jimmy glanced over at the time, from an old watch he managed to borrow, and groaned as he realized what time it was. So much for his nap. With a heavy sigh, he got out of bed, something small he had put together with some borrowed tissues and a (clean) sock. He stretched and rubbed at his eyes to try and stop the stinging. 
 He was on autopilot as he grabbed his bag and hook and got all of his other things together. He was barely aware as he left his little nook and walked along the inner walls. Time seemed to jump forward as Jimmy blinked back into consciousness, looking around and realizing he had somehow made it all the way to Grian and Joel’s room already.
 Well that wasn’t the least bit concerning.
 Shaking his head, Jimmy scouted out his surroundings. Grian and Joel still weren’t back yet, so the coast was clear. He came out from underneath the desk and headed over toward Joel’s nightstand. With how the room was set up, Joel’s nightstand was more in the center of the room, with Joel’s bed facing vertically from where the door was. Grian’s was on the opposite wall but facing horizontally from the door, so his nightstand was more off to the side.
 All this to say, Jimmy had made it a habit to go to Joel’s nightstand whenever he visited. It was just the easier one to get to and see the whole room from. Once he made it to the nightstand, he unfurled his hook, doing his best to concentrate on not getting it tangled. He hard blinked a few times to keep himself focused and then pulled back and swung the hook upwards.
 The hook missed by a short distance and fell back to the floor in front of Jimmy. He winced and gathered it up to try again. He narrowed his eyes and let it go once more. This time, the hook caught the side of the nightstand. Jimmy tested the rope strength briefly before climbing up.
 He pulled himself up and onto the table and then turned back around to wind his hook and rope back up. Once that was done, he shoved it back into his bag and sat down to wait for Grian and Joel to get back.
 He sat back against the lamp because he wasn’t sure if he would be able to keep himself upright otherwise. He was so tired and yet sleep still eluded him. How was that fair? Maybe if he continued to not sleep he would simply pass out eventually. He’d be lying if he said that didn’t sound appealing. Even just a little bit.
 His eyes drifted close…but then he opened them a moment later when the door to the room opened up. His eyes were a bit blurry but he could see who was clearly Grian and Joel enter the room and close the door behind them.
 “--And then he just up and left.” Joel said as he came in, Jimmy missing whatever it was he had said to start with. They seemed to be in the middle of talking and Jimmy didn’t want to interrupt them, so he stayed quiet and waited for a chance to chime in. For now, he watched as Joel swung his backpack off his shoulder and haphazardly tossed it onto the floor by the foot of his bed.
 “Well that doesn’t sound like him at all.” Grian said back with a hum. He went over to his desk and placed his bag on top of it, opening it up and shifting through it, taking out some books and papers and putting them on the desk as well. “Did Tango say anything else?”
 Joel shrugged, leaning against his desk to look at Grian. “Just that he came back a few hours later and pretended nothing had happened.” 
 “Weird.” Grian simply replied with.
 Honestly, Jimmy had barely been listening to their actual words. He had already forgotten what the conversation had entailed, at least what little of it he had heard. Hearing them speak was familiar and nice and it just made his eyes feel even more heavy.
 Jimmy was startled out of his sleepiness as Joel’s voice cut through. “Jimmy? When did you get here?” Joel said with a hint of surprise in his voice. Jimmy blinked and looked up to see Joel had come closer to where Jimmy was sitting, looming over him and looking down with raised eyebrows.
 It took Jimmy a moment to answer. “Oh, um…not too long I don’t think.” Jimmy answered, realizing he was unsure. It didn’t feel like too long but time was acting really funny right now.
 “Well next time say something.” Joel said with a slight frown.
 “Yeah, we would prefer to know where you are at all times.” Grian had chimed in, coming over to get a better look at where Jimmy was. “For obvious reasons.”
 Jimmy winced, realizing staying quiet had been a bad idea. He just hadn’t wanted to interrupt them, that’s all. And he was too tired to make an effort to get them to see him. It was fine, he had made sure he was in a good and safe spot before they had gotten there. 
 Despite these thoughts though, he simply nodded. Though as he nodded he let his head hang low for longer than he should have. He blinked his eyes open, not realizing he had closed them and righted his head to look back up at the two humans. They suddenly looked concerned.
 “Is something wrong Tim?” Grian asked, eyes scanning over his body. 
 “No, no, I’m fine.” Jimmy said, trying his best to not sound as tired as he felt. He didn’t want them to worry. This was his problem to deal with. The humans had their own problems and they didn’t need to be worrying about Jimmy on top of them. 
 Unfortunately, his words were met with skepticism. Joel, being closer, squatted down in order to get a good look at Jimmy. Jimmy tried to turn his head away, to hide how he must look with no sleep, but a finger suddenly filled his vision and gently guided his head back forward. The finger stayed there as Joel looked at him and so Jimmy saw when his face fell. 
 “Jimmy, what happened?” Joel asked, and as he did so a thumb entered his vision and ran under his eyes. Once again, the touch was featherlight and gentle but Jimmy still flinched back a little from the touch. Joel noticed and took his thumb back but the finger touching the right side of his face remained. “You’ve got dark circles under your eyes, your hair is a mess, and…well, honestly you just look plain awful.”
 Jimmy glared at him though he knew it wasn’t intended to be an insult. The amount of worry in Joel’s voice at least told him that much. He hadn’t seen himself in a mirror in a while, but he was sure Joel was telling the truth about how he must look. 
 He wasn’t going to be able to hide it from them now. So he might as well tell them. Jimmy sighed. “I…I just haven’t been getting enough sleep. That’s all.”
 Grian and Joel exchanged looks. “How long has it been?” Grian asked after a moment.
 Jimmy thought back but honestly couldn’t remember when this had started. He shrugged. “It’s…been a while now, I think.” He forced his brain to work. “Maybe…um…” Jimmy trailed off. The answer had come to him but he was thinking maybe he shouldn’t say anything. But the constant worried looks from his two friends made him realize he needed to. “Maybe shortly after meeting you guys? So…two or three weeks? Something like that.”
 Joel blinked in shock. “Are you saying you haven’t really been sleeping for three weeks.” Joel looked at Jimmy with wide eyes and then moved to look at Grian. Grian’s eyes were narrowed in thought and worry.
 “Is it…our fault?” Grian asked a bit hesitantly. Joel froze and then finally took his hand back from where he had been touching Jimmy. 
 Jimmy missed the contact as soon as it left but turned to Grian to focus on what he had said. His eyes widened when it finally registered. “What? No! It’s-it’s not your guys fault!” Jimmy said, standing up a little too fast and feeling a little dizzy. He recovered quickly though. “Do you really think I would keep coming back here if I was so distraught about being found by you guys that I couldn’t sleep properly?” Jimmy asked, raising an eyebrow.
 Grian and Joel looked at each other, each with a slight wince and Jimmy frowned. “The answer is no, by the way.” Jimmy said, not letting them answer after seeing that. 
 Joel looked like he wanted to say something, but he bit his lip and Grian shook his head with a small sigh to himself. “Okay, then if that’s not it, what else could it be?” Grian said, and Jimmy was thankful for Grian moving right along. Though Jimmy made a mental note to talk to them about that reaction later on. Once he had enough brain to actually figure out what it meant.
 “I really don’t know…” Jimmy answered with a sigh. “My bed back at home just hasn’t been feeling as comfortable as before, I guess. And, I don’t know, it’s almost…too dark? In the walls now. Which has never been a problem before but…” The more he spoke, the more he was realizing, but he was still confused on why he was feeling differently about these things.
 “That’s weird.” Joel said, also trying to think why that would be.
 Grian, on the other hand, connected the dots and already had a pretty good idea why Jimmy wasn’t able to sleep. Instead of saying anything, however, he decided to try something first. “How about we help you try and get some sleep? We humans have some remedies that might just work for you.”
 Jimmy blinked, not having heard of this before. “Remedies?”
 Grian nodded. “Yep. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try. Right?”
 Jimmy supposed that was true. The worst that would probably happen is that it just didn’t work. And the best is that he could finally get some sleep. “Okay. I’m willing to try.”
 Grian smirked, his plan now in action. “Great! Then the first one we can try is drinking warm milk.” He turned to Joel. “You mind going to get us some?”
 Joel blinked. “Wait, why do I have to do it?” 
 Grian shrugged, trying his best to appear nonchalant. “Cause I have some other stuff I can help Jimmy try while you go grab it.”
 Joel glared at him but sighed. “Fine. I’ll be back, I guess.” Joel grabbed his keys from the desk and then left the room, heading for the dorm’s kitchen area. Grian then turned back to Jimmy, ready for the last part of his plan now that Joel was gone.
 “Okay, while he’s doing that, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.” Grian came closer and scooped Jimmy up, careful of how he was doing so. Jimmy let out a little noise of surprise but otherwise barely reacted. Already Grian could see Jimmy snuggling into the warmth of his hand, which was already proving the theory he had worked out.
 Grian sat on Joel’s bed and set Jimmy down in the middle, up enough so he could still use some of the pillow. He then pulled up the blanket and laid it across the borrower, careful to not cover his head. 
 Jimmy snuggled into the plush mattress. He had been in these beds only a handful of times so far but everytime it was like heaven. Jimmy imagined this was what a cloud must feel like but with the addition of being oh so warm. The feeling was already making Jimmy’s eyes droop.
 Grian smirked. “Comfy?”
 Jimmy nodded. “Yeah…” he trailed off into a sigh, snuggling his head further into the pillow. 
 Grian hummed as he watched Jimmy’s eyes fully close and his chest became a steady up and down. Grian grinned, patting himself on the back for figuring it out and getting Jimmy to finally fall asleep.
 It was at that moment that Joel came back, a glass of warm milk in his hand. “Alright, I got it.”
 “Shh!” Grian shushed him and Joel froze. Grian gently pushed himself off the bed, careful to not disturb Jimmy and walked over to Joel. “Jimmy’s asleep.” He whispered. And Joel frowned.
 “What was the point in me going to get the milk then?” Joel asked in a whisper, a bit annoyed at the unnecessary journey. Grian smirked, pointing over to Joel’s bed. Joel blinked and put the glass of milk down before walking over. Sure enough, Jimmy was there in the center, sound asleep.
 “Seriously? You made me leave so you could put Jimmy in my bed?” Joel asked, still keeping his voice low. Grian nodded and Joel huffed. “You could have at least left me some room here.” Joel motioned to the bed and the fact that Jimmy was right in the middle.
 Grian shrugged. “You could move him but then you’d risk waking him up.”
 Joel rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “Yeah, no. I’m not going to do that to him. He clearly needs the sleep.” Joel looked at Jimmy for a long moment, mesmerized by how peaceful the borrower looked. “How did you get him to fall asleep anyway?” Joel hadn’t even been gone that long.
 “I figured out what was keeping him from sleeping in the first place.” Grian said, looking over at Jimmy. “I think…it is sort of our fault he hasn’t been able to sleep lately.”
 Joel blinked. “But, he said--”
 Grian cut him off. “I know but not in that way. I think we’ve been…well, spoiling him.”
 “Spoiling him.” Joel repeated, confused. “How so?”
 “Think about what he said before. His bed is no longer comfortable, he thinks his home is too dark, etcetera, etcetera.” Grian said, waving his hand along. “That’s technically our fault. He’s been out here, he’s been in our beds before, he’s used to how light our room is…” Grian explained, trailing off as Joel started to get what Grian was saying. “He couldn’t sleep because we gave him the chance to actually feel comfortable and now his old set up isn’t the same anymore.”
 “Oh.” Joel said, taking it all in. “Wow, that’s…” He looked over to Jimmy, still sleeping peacefully.
 “I know.” Grian said, despite Joel not finishing his sentence. “We should talk to him about it once he wakes up. Maybe…instead of going back to the walls he can stay with us.”
 Joel nodded. “Yeah, no, that sounds good to me.” Joel paused for a moment. “You think he’ll say yes?
 Grian nodded. “I think so. If we explain to him what happened and why he hasn’t been sleeping. I think he’ll be willing.” Grian shrugged and sat on his bed. “Besides, it’s a win win. Jimmy gets more sleep and you and I get to see him more.”
 Joel nodded, he did want to see Jimmy more especially if it meant it was also benefiting Jimmy as well. “Alright then, we’ll talk to him when he wakes up.” Now that that was settled, he went back to glaring at Grian. “Now onto the topic of where I’m going to sleep tonight.”
 Grian smirked.
 Joel ended up sleeping on the floor that night.
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hemi-demi · 1 month ago
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I don’t mean to rush you or be rude but I am SO in love with your dragon!jon fic, do you know how you will update it?
I'm glad you're enjoying it!
So I don't have a set update schedule for dragon!Jon fic(s) like I do some of my other long-form content. Normally for long fics, I have a backlog before I start posting so I can maintain constant updates and give myself some room to breathe. But with this series being a bit looser in structure and entries sort of bouncing around to the moments in time, I'm just posting as I go!
That being said, I want to have another chapter of Oathbreaker out soon, hopefully within the next week! I'll share a short snippet below the cut as a teaser.
Hope to have more of them soon!
Jon chuckles at that before polishing off their second (or perhaps third) tankard. “High tolerance. Comes with the bloodline.” They reply confidently, albeit with a subtle slur that colours their speech. The mead is just a bit stronger than they anticipated.
---
“Gods, how can you drink this much? You're so little. Thought you'd be under the table by now.” 
“Just a shock, is all.” Martin remarks. “Don't think I've ever seen you drink.”
“Unfortunately the higher tolerance just means that I am not a cheap date. It's hardly worth the effort, or the coin.”
“I don't think that's true. It's nice seeing you get to loosen up a bit, I’d say that's plenty worth it.”
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amalgamateofficial · 4 months ago
Text
A Quick(?) Update
Hey, everyone. I never know what to say, and then because of that, day after day passes in silence. I guess I just want to say that yes, I’m still working on chapter 21 of Amalgamate, and also that I’m sorry for the absolutely ridiculous amount of time that’s passed between chapters. I know I’ve been “absent” a lot online, too. Rarely commenting on fics, taking days to respond to DMs, hardly livestreaming…
I’m sure it’s a no-brainer that the kind of person who writes a story like Amalgamate isn’t exactly a “well” person. Those who follow me on social media for my cosplay and art content see such a small, curated snapshot of reality. The smile doesn’t exist until I hit record, and it ends when the video stops. So every day, my followers see videos of me at my “best,” but I film as much as possible on a single day because the next “good” day could be weeks away. Sometimes I worry that the next good day isn’t going to come at all.
The most frustrating thing about it is that I’m well aware of the cycle. Every year, starting in August, the darkness starts to creep in. By September, it takes hold. By the end of October, it’s inescapable. November passes, then December. Last year, December almost ended in the worst way possible, but as cheesy as it sounds, Amalgamate convinced me to turn it around. I thought, “What kind of example am I setting here? How can I let people down like this?” 
So this year, I tried to prepare for the inevitable… and failed. I thought if I could post chapter 21 before the end of August, I could just curl up alone and wait for 2024 to be over. But then everything went to hell and I missed my goal, and when the darkness started to creep in at the edges, I tried to make another goal, and then another, but every single time, I was dragged right back down.
Then a mini cycle started to form within the larger cycle. Every day that goes by in which I don’t post chapter 21, I think the chapter needs to be even better to make up for how long I’ve kept everyone waiting. Then the pressure overwhelms me, and the terrible thoughts creep in, and then the guilt sets in, and then I’m curled up in the corner again with nothing accomplished. DMs are left to fester. Fics I want to read collect dust. I drift away, and I let everyone else drift away, and I sit and stare and wish things could be different. 
I suppose it’s not all doom and gloom though. I tried really hard to work on myself this past month, and I was actually successful in a few ways. I tried to clean myself up, and in some ways, I did a lot better than expected. I’m hoping that means I can turn things around again. I want to finish chapter 21, catch up on all the fics I want to read, start drawing regularly, and be an active participant online instead of just tossing out content in a desperate attempt to keep up appearances.
But it’s such an uphill battle. I feel worse now than I did last year, so I’m trying really hard to cling to that self-awareness and prevent things from going the way they did in 2023. But I know that’s not realistic. Everything in life is worse than before, and I see no evidence that it will improve anytime soon. So that means it’s on me to simply power through it and do the best I can.
So, for the sake of my own sanity, chapter 21 will get finished as soon as possible. I don’t know how much longer I can survive with this awful feeling, and that feeling will go away once the next chapter’s posted. In the meantime, I’ll try not to miss the mark with all my other goals. No matter what, I’m going to finish my Halloween cosplay special for 2024. Last year, I had some funds to help me. This year I don’t because I dropped out of most of my conventions, made a lot less art, and overall just kinda gave up on everything. 
But it’s not too late. I’ll dive into as many dumpsters as I have to in order to make a Halloween cosplay that will hopefully be as good as Mangle. This year, I’m gonna be cosplaying Spamton NEO – which is probably cheating since I’m already a failed content creator past their prime who has no choice but to wear clown makeup and wave their arms at anyone who happens to scroll by.
I never know what to say, so I guess all I can really say is that I’m trying my absolute best. I know my best is often really disappointing, but it really is the best I can manage sometimes. Even when I’m distant, just know that it doesn’t mean I love you all less, or appreciate you all less, or feel any less gratitude. It just means I’m in the dark, and I’m trying to crawl my way back. Which is very tiring. And overwhelming. But I never stop trying. In part because you all mean so much to me. Last year would’ve ended differently if that wasn’t the case.
Anyway, I don’t know what else to say other than thank you all for your continued support. I’ll try to make it all up to you and then some. Maybe this year I can end things on a high note for once. I’ll certainly give it my best shot.
Uuuh… I guess if you do want to see me at my best, though, you can always follow me on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube. That’s the best version of me in between Amalgamate chapters, and I recently shared a ton of Danganronpa cosplay videos because of Dragon Con. I have a Patreon now too, and even though it’s a ghost town, I’m still posting as much content there as possible. I’ll keep dancing until the stage lights are forcibly shut down. I think that's the best way to guarantee that I can turn this ship around.
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throneofsapphics · 1 year ago
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Hey hey, as someone who also speaks fluent angst, I was hoping to make a request?
Reader is injured and tries to hide how bad it is?
Could work for any character soo you choose! I do love your poly fics though 🥺🥺🥺
THANK YOU!!
knocking on death's door
poly!Manorian x Reader
Summary: You knew you weren’t dying, but by the looks of it everyone else seemed to think so.  
Warnings: major injury, descriptions injuries/mention of blood, angst-ish
Word Count: ~1.7k 
A/N: ah thank you! I love this request, thank you for sending it! honestly I love writing poly fics. also anyone if you hit your head please go to a doctor 
You took a small tumble down the stairs. You’d been injured worse before, but knew you likely had a concussion and would have some intense bruises on your back and legs. You could already feel the giant one blooming on your upper thigh, and felt the ache in your lower back. But, a good salve and a discreet healer could fix a majority of problems. 
The only problem that might come your way is Manon and Dorian. Both of them have the tendency to be fussy. The last thing you wanted was to be on bedrest for a week. 
You crept down towards the healing rooms, taking a few servants' passageways, and peering through the door. Just your luck, the only healer you trust not to report to them, a close friend of yours, wasn’t present, and you decided to go back tomorrow - right after they left. 
-
Manon and Dorian weren’t in your shared rooms and wouldn’t be back until later. They had a plethora of negotiations and meetings today and the next few days. A part of you did feel guilty hiding this from them, but they already had a lot going on - you didn’t want to add any extra stressors. 
You slipped into the bathroom for a quick shower, washing off the blood from a few cuts, and snatching some of the salve and a pain tonic you kept in stock. With that, hopefully the bruises will fade in a few hours, and the headache should disappear. The small scrape on your palm … that you’ll just have to wait out, but it’s easily explainable. They know you can be clumsy sometimes. 
You fell asleep on the couch quickly after. 
-
Manon scented something was off as soon as she entered the rooms - blood. She stalked right for your side, one arm dangled over the edge of the couch, the other curled under your pillow. You were sound asleep, your breaths deep and steady, and only mumbling as she carefully lifted your arm, turning it gently to see a small scrape on your palm. Falling. Again. You were so clumsy it worried her sometimes. She called your name, quietly at first. Poking you when you didn’t wake. Your eyes fluttered open, blinking heavily once you saw her. 
“Falling, again?” She raised her brow, looking at the slightly guilty smile on your face. “You need to be more careful.” She exhaled sharply, going to find something to bandage it with, and disinfect it. 
“I already took care of it,” you called after her, but she ignored you. Dorian came back shortly after, frowning at Manon wrapping a small piece of cloth over your hand. “It’s over kill,” you insisted, but one sharp look and your mouth snapped shut. 
“Did you hurt anything else?” 
“No,” you sighed, rolling back to shove your head into the pillow. Manon was a bit suspicious but … she knows you get annoyed when she fusses, and left it for now. 
-
The three of you collapsed into bed, all tired, and a slightly longer than usual nightgown hid the bruises. Your head still ached, but you took another tonic to fight that off. Apparently their day had been incredibly exhausting because they didn’t question anything too much, and the three of you fell into a deep sleep within minutes. 
-
Dorian rose first the next morning, smiling at the sight of you and Manon curled up together. Your nightgown bunched slightly at the side but … purple, he caught a sliver of purple skin. Carefully, he pulled down the blanket some more, shifting your clothing as well. A giant purple bruise bloomed on the side. 
He called your name, but you didn’t wake - he woke Manon, however, who spotted the bruise as well. 
“Y/n.” She called this time. Nothing. He shook your shoulder slightly, and you still didn’t stir. 
A quick scan with his magic showed some kind of swelling in your brain. That’s beyond anything he could handle. He scooped you in his arms, darting out the door as quickly as possible, not caring he was only wearing a pair of long sleeping pants, and sprinted for the healing rooms, carefully cradling your head against his shoulder. Manon caught up to him quickly, thankfully having thrown some clothes on, and asking questions but he couldn’t answer - his only focus was getting you there, as fast as he could. 
-
It took most of Dorian’s self restraint to keep both him and Manon from interrupting the healers working on you. 
“She said she didn’t hurt anything else.” Manon’s voice was barely above a whisper, her hand clutching onto his arms, nails digging in slightly. Maybe it would’ve hurt, but he was too focused on the scene in front of him to notice. 
You can be a bit clumsy, and Dorian knows that - it’s not unusual for you to come in with some sort of scrape or bruise once in a while but … neither of them asked what happened this time. The day had been long, and they’d been tired. Guilt ripped through him. And you’d lied too - to Manon, saying nothing else was injured, then a dark bruise on your leg and back, and somehow you’d hit your head. 
He felt his magic starting to bubble underneath his skin. One of the healer’s noticed as well and turned sharply to them. “We’re taking care of her. Both of you out.” 
-
Manon’s eyes narrowed at the woman ordering them out of the room, but her face was firm, no-nonsense, and unyielding. Dorian pushed her back gently, and she left, somehow without snarling or hissing at any of the healers. They found a small bench no less than 20 feet from the door, and waited. She leaned her head against his shoulder and his arm wrapped around her. The warmth provided an anchor, kept Manon from spiraling too deep into her thoughts. But she can’t help thinking she should’ve checked, she should’ve pushed further. Dorian’s absolute panic had filled her with dread. He always seems to keep his head, always calm. 
-
You knew you weren’t dying, but by the looks of it everyone else seemed to think so. 
It was strange, seeming to float outside of your body - watching everyone move around you. You were in and out of this semi-conscious state for days, watching as healers would fuss over you - take your temperature, check your heart rate and breathing, scan for any additional injuries. Swelling in her brain, you heard once - and winced. 
The worst part was watching Manon and Dorian. They were pale, their eyes lined with worry, and the bags under their eyes were heavy enough it looks like they might have punched each other. You were never alone, one of them was always there unless the healers kicked them out. Either holding your hand, or sitting next to you. 
Once, when Manon wasn’t present, Dorian brought a book. Your favorite, and read outloud to you - his eyes darting over to your face with every other line. All you wanted was to reach out, to grab his hand, touch him and let him know you’re okay, but you couldn’t. Your body was stuck there, limp and pale. 
You’d never felt this kind of hopelessness before. Knowing your loved ones are in pain and only able to watch them suffer, not give a comforting squeeze, word, or even blink. 
Five days passed, and you were back in your rooms. 
At dawn, on the seventh morning, Manon laid next to you, curled on her side, eyes closed, but you could tell she was awake. Dorian was awkwardly spread over a chair, his chest falling and rising in even breaths. Asleep. You watched as tears dripped down Manon’s cheeks. Not once had you seen her cry. She didn’t say a word, no sobs leaving her chest, but the silent tears broke something in you.
You blinked, and you were back in your body. You stayed perfectly still, trying to figure out if this was real or not. Slowly, you opened your eyes. Manon was there, tears still lining her cheeks. 
It took more effort than you cared to admit, but you reached your arm up, brushing a tear off her cheek. She leaned into your touch for a few seconds, before those beautiful eyes shot open. 
She grabbed your hand, holding it gently between both of hers. “You’re awake.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, and hoarse. 
Dorian was up in an instant, sitting on the other side of the bed and taking your other hand. 
“Hi.” Your voice was so weak it came out as a croak. Dorian let out something between a sob and a laugh. 
Reluctantly, Dorian left to grab the healers as quickly as he could. Manon had refused to move - holding onto your hand like a lifeline. 
He returned with them, and it was a whirl of questions that made your head hurt, and further instructions. Rest, rest, and rest. Enough rest to drive you insane. 
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Manon finally asked after the room cleared. 
“It .. it didn’t seem that bad.” Your voice was rough and your throat scratchy but you managed to get the words out. 
“You hit your head, you’ve been out for a week.” Manon hissed, but kept her voice low. You could have died, went unsaid. Dorian handed you a glass of water, helping you sit up against the pillows. You could sense the … not quite anger, but hurt coming from him. Hurt and fear. You clutched the glass, forcing your hands not to shake, and took a small sip. 
“I know,” you whispered. She blinked in confusion. “I … I wasn’t here, but I could see it, sometimes.” Your hands began to shake, water starting to slosh over the edges
She pressed her lips in a tight line, and took the glass from you, pressing it up against your lips. “You’re not getting out of bed until I say so,” was her response. 
You glared at her, opening your mouth to say something, but Dorian spoke before you could. “This isn’t a battle you’ll win. I’m on her side.” 
“Traitor.” You mumbled.
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felixsramen · 2 years ago
Text
Yours Truly
Previous<<<< Next>>>>>
This is part 4 to my Skz poly fic. It's short because there'll be smut next chapter.
Warnings: Guy hits on reader when she doesn't want it but is dealt with
Here you were at 4 something pm putting gems on your face in the bathroom mirror. The week had gone by pretty fast and it was currently Saturday the day of Felixs birthday party. Your eyeliner had taken quite a bit of tries when you finally decided to give it up and settle instead for gems.
'What should I wear?' sits on your phone as you wait for Felixs text message.
You had already decided it'd be much easier to gel your hair down and hoped it'd stay yet that depended on the humidity outside.
You finish putting the last gem on your face. You look in the mirror proud of your handiwork and how little time you used doing it. 4:45 sits on the phone.
Your phone lights up with a notification. 'Whatever you'd like to. No one's judging😊'
You sigh going through your closet. Hopefully you could find the outfit you were thinking of. You finally find it and head back to the bathroom and change.
You finish and look at your phone. 5:17. It had taken you a while to find the right outfit.
'I'm about to leave the house I'll be there soon' you text Felix.
Within seconds he replies.
'Can't wait😁'
You grab your keys, and your phone. You walk out of the house to your car.
You already know the address considering you've been to the house twice. You sigh thinking about what will unfold tonight.
You turn the radio on to get rid of the thoughts. You eventually pull up to the house and you walk up to the familiar house and knock.
The door opens and you're met with Jisungs face. "Hi Y/N!" Jisung says excitedly and you smile at him.
"Hi." You say and Jisung moves out the way so you can come in.
You're met with loud music and a whole bunch of people standing around with cups in their hands. "Felix Y/Ns here!" Jisung yells out.
You wonder if Jisung is already drunk. He looks back at you smiling.
Within seconds Felix comes out of the crowd of people with two drinks in his hands. When Felix appears Jisung disappears back into the crowd following after one of his boyfriends he saw.
"Hey Y/N!" Felix says over the loud music.
"Happy birthday!" You say rather loudly and excitedly.
Felix hands you one of the cups in his hands. "Thank you." He says smiling.
"You're welcome." You say sipping from the drink. It was strong and you make a face. Felix laughs at you.
"Too strong?" Felix questions you and you nod.
"Here let's go make you another drink." Felix says grabbing your free hand and pulling you towards the kitchen.
In the kitchen you see Hyunjin leaning against the counter head on Seungmins shoulder sipping from his cup.
"Hey Y/N." Hyunjin says putting his cup down.
"Hey Hyunjin and Seungmin." You say waving and Seungmin waves back to you.
"Enjoying the party?" Hyunjin asks an eyebrow raised.
"Well I just got here." You say and Hyunjin nods. He really was beautiful all 8 of them looked like they were handcrafted by God himself. You still couldn't believe you had not just slept with him but also Chan. Then now you've ended up pretty much becoming somewhat friends with the group of guys.
"Y/N?" Felix says breaking you out of your thoughts.
"Hm?" You say looking at him.
"Try this. It's more of a fruity drink." Felix says and hands you a red cup.
You take him from him and sip it slowly. It was sweet yet also had a nice burn to it.
"Do you like it?" Felix says eyes brightening.
You nod smiling at him. "It's really good is it strawberry?" You asked curiously.
Felix shakes his head no. "Its fruit punch." He says and you sip it again.
From behind Felix comes a drunk Changbin who places his head on Felixs shoulder. "Baby?" Whines Changbin and Felix chuckles at his boyfriend.
"I think you've had a quite a bit of drinks." Felix says and Changbin goes to kiss Felix who dodges him. Changbin pouts.
"I want a kiss." Changbin says still pouting. Felix gives in pecking Changbin lips.
Changbin frowns. "A real kiss." He says and Felix sighs.
"You know normally I'd love to but you're drunk." Felix says turning around to face Changbin.
"Fine." Changbin pouts.
"I think we should get you to bed." Felix says at his moody boyfriend.
"No I want to party." Changbin says and Felix laughs.
"Babe you're drunk I think you've partied enough." Felix says.
From the kitchen door comes Minho. He looks at Changbin. "So this is where you went." Minho says sighing.
"I was worried about you. One second you were standing beside me while I was talking to someone and then I turn to find you and you were gone." Minho says concerned.
"I'm sorry." Changbin mumbles.
"It's okay you were just drunk and I didn't want you to wander off and get hurt." Minho says placing a hand on Changbins back.
Felix smiles at you sadly. "I'm sorry I need to help put Changbin in bed. He's drunk already and I don't want him to get hurt." Felix says hands on Changbins hip.
"No it's fine I'm sure I'll find someone to talk to. You guys do what you need to." You say smiling. Felix and Minho smile at you.
"Let's go love." Felix says and Changbin whines.
Minho puts one of Changbins arms around him and Felix does the same.
"I don't want to go to bed." Changbin whines.
"I know babe but you need to." Minho says to him.
"Do I at least get a goodnight kiss?" Changbin says hopeful. You smile at him and both of the boys holding him laugh as they start off down the hall.
"Yeah we'll give you a goodnight kiss." Felix says as they disappear out of sight.
You walk into the crowd and find a seat on the couch. You sigh out loud and put your head in your hands.
Someone sits beside you. "Are you okay?" Someone says and you look up eyes meeting the stranger.
"As okay as someone can get." You say and the girl laughs.
"I get that." The girl says.
"I'm Maria." She says and holds out a hand for you to shake.
"Y/N." You say and shake her hand.
"Boy problems?" She asks questioning you.
"Kind of." You say sighing.
"Sounds about right." She says.
"Do you mind if I ask what's going on?" She says asking you.
"Well I'm sure you know the hosts of the party or you wouldn't be here." She nods at your statement.
"I'm sure you know they're all dating. Well a couple weeks ago I was at a club and I met these 2 guys they came up to me and they told me they had boyfriends it wasn't like they didn't tell me. They said it was okay with their boyfriends if we fucked. And they took me back to their house." You say continuing your story.
Her eyes are wide. "Well we had sex and I woke up early in the morning and called an Uber. Yet as I was leaving I ran into 2 of their boyfriends. They didn't say much to me. But like a week later I was back at that same club and two of these disgusting guys tried getting me to dance with them and one tried kissing me. Can you guess who knocked the guys out?" You say asking her.
"The guys you slept with?" She says guessing.
You laugh. "I wish sometimes. No it was the boyfriends I met that morning. My friends had left me for my birthday and I had no ride or even my keys. They offered me to stay the night and I drive them home because the guy that knocked both dudes out had a gash on his hand. I ended up staying the night. I woke up and had breakfast with all of them." You say and Maria listens intently.
"It wasn't awkward?" She asks you.
"Surprisingly no. They were all really sweet and treated me nicely. Felix the ones who this party is for ended up inviting me to the party." You say and you sigh.
"That's the problem?" She asks you and you shake your head.
"No I think I'm falling for them. I know I'm nuts for falling for 8 guys who are dating and I've only ever met them like 3 times now." You say running a hand through your hair.
She laughs and it relaxes you for some unknown reason. "Oh sweet girl you're not insane for that. You sound like how I was when I first met my boyfriends." She says.
"Boyfriends?" You say asking her and she nods smiling.
"8." She says and your eyebrows raise.
"Though I didn't sleep with 2 of them. I met them all at a club though. Some dude was getting too handsy and one of them came up to him who I would know later as San hit him in the face." She says laughing at the memory.
"San invited me to the table and I agreed and that's when I met the rest of them." She says sighing dreamily.
"It was a nice night you know and we all ended up exchanging numbers. It took us only meeting twice to know that we all wanted each other. So if you're nuts I'm most definitely insane." She says to you.
"Yeah well I doubt any one of them see me like that. They've all got each other and I don't really fall into any category of them." You say and Maria laughs.
"Can I be for real with you for a second?" She says and you nod.
"I don't think Felix would've invited you if he didn't have some kind of interest in you but I may be wrong." She says smiling and shrugging. She takes the cup in her hands and brings it to her lips.
Suddenly from behind the couch two guys peek over at you both. She lifts her head and rolls her eyes playfully. "This is San and Wooyoung who love listening in on conversations." Maria says and you wave. "This is Y/N my new friend." They wave back.
"You drunk yet?" One of them says.
"No I'm not San. Why are you asking?" She says an eyebrow raised.
"No reason love." The other one who you assume is Wooyoung says.
"Joong says we're going to leave in like an hour or two." San says and Maria sighs.
"Okay." Maria says and frowns.
"Don't do that. You know how Yeosang doesn't like parties he's only here because you wanted to go." Wooyoung says frowning back at you.
"I know love. I just made a new friend though." She says looking at you.
"I know baby. But you can get her phone number and hang out with her anytime." San says acknowledging you.
"You're right." She says.
"Invite Yeosang over here. I want to make sure he's okay." She says concerned.
"Okay. We'll see you later. Love you." Wooyoung says and both of them kiss her cheek.
"Love you guys too." She says and both boys leave.
"Those are the two troublemakers." She says smiling.
"The one they're talking about Yeosang?" You question and she nods.
"He's not a social butterfly. Most of them aren't but especially Mingi and Yeosang they have bad anxiety." She says sadly thinking about her boyfriends.
You nod understanding. A guy approaches the couch and tries to sit beside you both and Maria gets up sitting on your other side.
"How are you ladies?" The guy says and you cringe.
"Disgusted." You say.
"Grossed out." Maria says at the same time as you.
You assume the guy is drunk by the way he places a hand on your leg. You grab his hand moving it off of you.
"What don't want me baby?" He asks you both.
"No." You both say in Unison.
"Come on. Just one night." He asks you and you roll your eyes.
"Piss off." You say in response. He places his hand back on your thigh. Suddenly a fist connects with the guys face.
"What the fuck!" The guy yells as you look at the unfamiliar guy who hit him.
"Yeosang!" Maria yells and his eyes meet hers for a second.
"They said piss off or you'll leave with a broken nose next." Yeosang says angrily.
"Fuck you. What are you going to do about it by yourself?" The dude says getting in Yeosangs face.
"You want to fucking find out?" Yeosang spits back into his face.
"Leave. Now." Comes from behind Yeosang and Chan is behind him.
"Whatever. I didn't want these stupid bitches anyways." The dude grumbles and that's when Chans fist connects with the dudes face and this time you hear a snap and blood comes from his nose.
"Fuck!" The guy yells out as he practically runs out the door in pain.
Chan and Yeosangs eyes meet yours and Marias.
"Are you guys okay?" Yeosang asks and you both nod.
"Thank you." You both say to both guys.
Chan nods and Yeosang smiles softly. "Maybe we should go home." Maria says and Yeosang nods.
"Whatever you want to do love." Yeosang says as Maria hugs him.
Maria pulls away and looks at you. "I'm sorry Y/N but I think I'm going to leave now." She says.
"No I understand." You say reassuring her.
"Here. Put your number in my phone. I'll be back to get it. We're going to round our boyfriends back up so we can go." She says laughing softly. You smile as she gets up from the couch and Yeosang wraps an arm around her.
They walk off to go find the rest of their boyfriends.
You type your number in her phone. You look up as Chan sits beside you now.
"You good?" Chan asks quietly.
That's when you break down. You can't take it anymore and cry softly. Chan brings you into a hug and rubs your back.
"It's okay. I'm here." Chan says and you cry into him. Chan could care less right now if you ruined his shirt he wouldn't and couldn't let you cry by yourself.
You slowly stop crying and pull away from Chan who sadly smiles at you.
"I'm sorry." You say and Chan shakes his head.
"Don't be. You've been through a lot." Chan says and you cling to his shirt.
"It's not your fault." Chan says still rubbing your back.
You really were falling for these boys.
Taglist: @queenmea604 @lolareadsimagines @tinyworld18 @liv302
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cozy-mp3 · 2 years ago
Text
positive reenforcement
abby x female!reader
when she tries, abby is a very good motivator
word count: 3.8k(ish)
warnings: nsfw (minors will be blocked), reader and abby bicker (lovingly), i have never in my sparred with anyone so that part might be written terribly, oral, kissing, a lil bit of biting, overstimulation (kinda), abby is mean(ish) but in a cute way, they say i love you two (2) times
a/n: i havent written porn in a while so hopefully i havent lost my touch 😼 i felt like we needed something cute + lighthearted after the last abby fic, i didn’t expect it to get so long but whatever we made it anyway. idk what im gonna post next but im working on a couple things that im excited to unleash on u all. i hope u enjoy, mwah
“c’mon, get up,” abby huffs, her head tilted so you can see her disapproving eyes, “you can do it, you know you can,” she adds a little more gently when she’s met with a miserable look in response, you can feel sweat collecting at your temples and you can only manage a quiet sound of discomfort as you reach your tired arms up to wipe it away. you don’t know how long you’ve been stuck in the gym with abby, but she’s laid you flat on your back on the mats at least five times already and you’d only started sparring after she’d lead you through a regular workout.
“‘m tired, abs,” you complain in a way that is whiny enough to irritate her had it come from anyone else, though it’s hard to care when your shirt is stuck to your back with sweat and your muscles ache in a way you know means more pain in the morning. abby is unmoved by your whining, as she often is, and she even gives you a performative eye roll as she reaches down and offers a hand to help you up to your feet again.
“you’ve beaten me before,” she tells you when you’re stood before her, your body falling forward until your forehead is pressed to her strong shoulder, her skin is damp with a light layer of sweat but you can’t find it within yourself to move from where you’re leaning against her, “stop being dramatic,” she chuckles, her hand resting on the back of your neck where her thumb rubs circles into your warm skin, “you almost had me this last time,” she hums as she gives your neck an encouraging squeeze.
“you’re too strong,” you mumble against her, your eyes shut tight to block out the harsh white lights of the gym as you soak up this moment of rest, “i can’t beat you,” you sigh, turning your head to rest your cheek against the width of her shoulder so you can crack open one of your eyelids to look at her. her cheeks are tinged a little pink from exertion and her hair is disheveled from the two of you wrestling each other, her brows are furrowed in thought and she furrows them even more when she turns to meet your eyes, contorting her face until she makes you laugh.
“you took down a shambler the other day, i watched you do it,” she says as she gently pushes you away from her, her hands resting on your shoulders and her eyes steady on yours, “and you took down manny last week,” she adds, giving your shoulders another reassuring squeeze.
“manny goes easy on me,” you retort with another sigh, your lips tugging downwards into a frown, “and i had a rifle when we were on patrol, it’s different,” you continue, your voice taking on a more defeated tone as you avert your eyes from hers. she lets out a heavy breath through her nose and squeezes your shoulders again, her thumbs massaging little circles into your sore muscles as she pauses to think again.
“one more time?,” she asks softly, one of her hands leaving your shoulder so she can nudge your chin with her knuckle until you’ve angled your face towards her again, “try one more time for me and i’ll make it worth it, ok?” she urges and that catches your attention, because abby doesn’t often offer you rewards, it’s just not the way she shows her affection, she’s shy with her love most of the time and shows it to you in ways you’ve learned to spot instead of gestures that make it obvious to those around you. 
“worth it how?,” you ask, your brows rising in curiosity and your previous mood lifting, it’s exciting to receive things from your girlfriend, sue you. abby’s lips quirk into a smile at your reaction and she leans over to kiss briefly, her lips catching your cheek as well before she pulls away to look at you.
“that’s for me to know and for you to find out,” she tells you, lightly flicking your nose as she steps away from you and walks across the mats to face you, “you remember what we talked about?,” she asks as she settles into a comfortable crouched stance in front of you, the bulge of the muscles in her thighs pronounced as she squats slightly, her hands held in front of her face in loose fists.
“yeah, i remember,” you nod, stretching your hands above your head and leaning to each side to ease out the tightness building in your hips before you match abby’s posture, bending at your knees and leaning forward slightly to balance yourself. she begins to pace a wide circle around the mats that you mirror, not allowing your back to face her and keeping your eyes trained on hers to try to preempt her next movement.
abby makes the first move after she grows impatient with your passivity, her body lunging towards yours quickly but not so quick it’s impossible to dodge. you’ve sparred with her more times than you can count and over the course of your relationship she’s spent a lot of time teaching you how to overpower other people, especially those larger than you. it’s her way of being both protective and respectful of your boundaries, making sure that you can defend yourself so that she doesn’t feel the urge to smother you to keep you safe because, as you’ve had to point out to her before, you’re a grown woman who’s fully capable of caring for herself. 
she’s always instructed you to go for the legs, to get people on the ground so it’s easier to overwhelm them, so you can get a knife in their neck or their side, anywhere that will either kill them or wound them enough that you’re able to put some distance between you both so you can put a bullet in their head. it isn’t often you’re in situations where it’s necessary for you to get into physical altercations with people due to the gun you carry, but you’re not out of practice and it doesn’t take long for you to spot an opportunity to sweep abby’s legs out from under her.
it feels like she’s one step ahead of you when she rights herself again quickly, her feet hardly stumbling before she’s stable again and lunging towards you, trying to wrap her arms around your middle. you know it’ll be impossible to get her off of you once she’s pinned you to the floor so it’s with a frustrated noise you hook one of your legs around one of hers again, pulling her towards your body until she falls toward you. 
you can feel abby’s hand cupping the back of your head as the two of you fall to the mats and you can’t help but let a smile tug at the corner of your lips, she’s sweet, even if she’ll never admit it. as much as you’d like to lay down and accept defeat just on the off chance she’s down for a sweaty cuddle while you catch your breath, you want to beat abby now, partly because you want to prove to yourself that you can but mostly because you want whatever it is she’s promising. 
you use the time it takes her to recoup from being pulled to the ground to your advantage and wrap your legs around her waist, pulling her towards you and using all your bodyweight to flip the two of you over so that she lands on her back with a grunt. she tries to buck your body off of hers but you hold tight and manage to wrap an arm around the width of her shoulders, holding her against your chest until you can correct the hold so that it cuts off her breathing.
she continues struggling against you until the lack of air becomes unbearable, at which point she desperately taps three times against your thigh to admit defeat. you loosen the hold of your arms immediately but leave your legs wrapped loosely around her as you both regain your breath, hers coming in harsh, breathless pants where she lays on the mat.
“hey,” abby calls after a few quiet moments, her hand patting your thigh again until you turn your tired head and look at her, her face still red from exertion and lack of air but still pretty, “told you you could do it,” she smiles, outright laughing when you groan and dig your heel into the firm muscle of her stomach not at all gently. 
“you never miss a chance to say i told you so, huh?,” you ask as abby turns within the hold of your legs, her body laying heavy over yours and her eyes warm with amusement.
“nope, never,” she affirms, leaning down slightly so she can nudge her nose against yours, “i love you,” she adds when the look you’re giving her stubbornly doesn’t shift into a smile, her lips catching the corner of your mouth before you crack and smile up at her.
“love you too, abs,” you hum, squirming beneath her until her weight settles more comfortably against you, you tighten your legs around her middle and squeeze lightly as you reach up and stroke the warm plane of her cheek, “hey, what’s my prize?,” you ask after a few long seconds of the two of you staring at each other, abby’s eyes immediately leaving yours in an eye roll.
“you’re not even gonna let me catch my breath before you start requesting things from me?,” she asks, her voice full of teasing and her brows raised in question, “you’re so demanding, baby,” she sighs as she shakes her head at you. she’s not quick enough to school her expression when you groan in discontent and once the edges of her lips tug into a smile she’s unable to hold back another laugh.
“abigail,” you huff, furrowing your brows into a frown and exhaling harshly in exaggerated frustration, “stop trying to irritate me, you’re supposed to be proud of me,” you her pointedly as you use the hand still cupping her face to poke the soft skin that stretches over her cheekbone, “a good girlfriend would be praising me right now,” you add when she’s still only able to look at you with affectionate amusement.
“a good girlfriend, huh?,” she asks, her tone only getting more teasing as the conversation continues, “when have i ever claimed to be a good girlfriend?,” she questions and at your angry noise of complaint she can’t help but chuckle again. you allow her a few moments to laugh at your misery, just because you like to see her smile, before you start trying to wiggle away from her, making a big show about attempting to get up and leave.
“hey, wait,” abby protests, using one of her hands to hold you still and tilting your chin upwards so she can kiss the corner of your mouth, “you’re so pretty, you know that?,” abby asks, her lips still brushing against yours though she quickly pulls away with a grimace when you pinch the meat of her hip, “ok, ok, flattery doesn’t work, i get it,” she groans and tilts your head again so she can nip at your jaw in retaliation, though it’s more of a scrape of her teeth against your skin that makes your thighs clench around her.
“tell me what i won, anderson,” you insist again, this time widening your eyes into your closest approximation of a kicked puppy and sticking your bottom lip out in a pout that has your girlfriend rolling her eyes but sighing in defeat, you have half a mind to tell her that if she keeps doing it her eyes will get stuck like that but it seems as though you’ve won, so you decide you’ll save it for the next time you’re bickering.
“jesus, ok,” abby acquiesces, her expression still affectionate despite the exasperation in her tone, “your reward,” she starts, her fingers tightening their grip on your jaw as she uses her weight to press you flat against the mats, “is gonna my mouth on your cunt,” she tells you, her eyes trailing over your face for a moment, cataloging the way her blunt nails dig into the soft skin of your cheek before she meets your eyes again, “‘m gonna make you feel so good, it’s positive reinforcement or whatever,” she finishes, leaning down to kiss you briefly.
you can’t quite bring yourself to string a sentence together when she’s done talking, so instead you lean up to press your lips to hers again and wrap your arms around her shoulders, burrowing your nails into the firm muscles beneath her shirt. she sighs happily against your mouth and lets go of your jaw in favor of gripping your hips, her hands sliding beneath the waistband of your exercise pants where she paws a handful of your ass and squeezes until you moan.
“you’re such a good girl,” abby mumbles against your spit slick lips once she’s broken your kiss, her mouth quickly attaching to the juncture of your neck where she bites down on your sensitive skin. she groans as you whimper and uses the hands on your ass to pull your hips upwards and allow the elastic material of your pants to stretch over your hips and down your thighs. she has to lift her body away from yours to continue pulling them down your legs and you reach out to retain contact with her, sliding your hands beneath her shirt and tracing the ridges of her abs.
she gently encourages you to lift your hips up again so she can remove your underwear and the way her eyes drop to stare between your legs makes you squirm with slightly self conscious delight. you know she enjoys giving you oral, she’s told you before how she loves the way you tug her hair, how she loves the way you taste and the way your thighs squeeze around her head when you cum, but it’s still almost surreal to watch the way she looks at you like she’s hungry for it.
“abby, please,” you urge a few long seconds after she’s removed your underwear, using the hand beneath her shirt to squeeze her hip in an attempt to regain her attention, “you’re about to start drooling,” you add with an amused huff of air when she glances up at you as if she’s annoyed you interrupted her staring.
“just admiring,” abby tells you, both of her brows raised in her usual stubborn defiance, “nothing wrong with admiring my girl,” she hums and under any other circumstances you’d be able to respond in turn, to banter back and forth with her until one of you got tired and found some way to shut the other up. this time, however, abby had slid one of her hands up your thigh and before you could even hope to respond the rough, callused pad of her thumb is pressed against your clit leaving you unable to do anything but moan.
“that’s cheating,” you mumble to her once she’s leant down over you, her lips kissing lightly up the arched line of your neck, the skin already sensitive from the bites she’d left there earlier. she doesn’t bother to respond verbally, only letting out a noncommittal grunt before her lips reach your own and her fingers slide lower to glide through the slick wetness of your cunt, the wide heel of her palm pressing up against your swollen clit.
you gasp out another moan against her mouth as she works her fingers against you, never allowing them to enter you fully, only allowing them to begin to sink into the soft clench of you before she pulls them away again. she knows she’s denying you and nothing manages to sway her, not your legs spreading wider to invite her in or your hands clutching desperately at her shoulders, your choked moans into the bulge of her bicep when you turn your head or even when you begin to arch your hips into her, it’s infuriating.
“you’re so desperate for it,” abby teases when she has to sit up in order to hold you down, her firm grip on your hip keeping your body flat against the mats and your thighs laying spread open on top of her own, “you want more?,” she asks, her soaked fingers stroking lightly from your clit to your entrance and back again, her touch is uncharacteristically light and it makes the muscles in your thighs twitch in an attempt to buck towards her again.
“please,” you respond, your brows tugging together into a pleading expression that only eases when abby returns her thumb to your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles that have you moaning loud enough that it echoes off of the walls of the empty room. you throw one of your arms over your eyes as you get close to your peak, your hand clenching into a fist as your other hand clutches desperately at abby’s fingers where they continue to lay against your hip.
she continues her ministrations until you’re so close to cumming you’re sure it’s going to happen, your toes curled and your mouth open though no sound escapes it. it’s only when you tell her in a tone that’s close to a whine that you’re about to cum that she stops, the hand she has on your cunt lifting away as you let out a noise of complaint that’s somewhere between a whimper and a sob.
it takes a few moments to regain enough of a hold on yourself to remove your arm from over your eyes and look at her, the upset twist of your mouth only deepening when you see her, her lips wrapped around the length of her fingers to clean them off. she has to pull them from her mouth to laugh at the stormy look on your face, the hand that had been on your hip instead patting the mound above your cunt in mocking comfort.
“i told you i was gonna put my mouth on your cunt, so, i’m gonna put my mouth on your cunt,” she tells you, totally unphased by the glare you’re giving her, “what’s that face for?,” abby asks you when she’s able to gather her expression into one of false innocence, her lips immediately tugging back into a smirk when you make a frustrated sound and let your head drop back onto the mats, still not put together enough to argue with her.
“i’m being cruel, huh?,” she asks above you, lightly squeezing the meat of your thigh when you make an affirmative sound in response, “i’m sorry,” she replies in a tone that’s amused but still kind enough it doesn’t invite you to argue with her. you don’t fight her as she readjusts your legs, spreading them slightly wider so there’s enough room for her shoulders to fit when she lays on her stomach between them, her breath is hot against your cunt and it makes you squirm with oversensitive discomfort.
“gently, abs,” you warn her, reaching down to pet the soft hair at her temple as you get comfortable, your feet planted comfortably either side of her. she hums an affirmative noise and presses a kiss to each of your inner thighs before she scoots a little closer, close enough that the tip of her nose is brushing against you, though it takes a whine of her name and then an irritated prod of your toes against her ribs to get her to finally press her lips to your pussy.
abby sighs happily at the taste of you and you can feel the shift of the muscles in her arms and shoulders as she gets comfortable on her stomach, her hands holding your thighs open to prevent the way you instinctually try to clamp them shut each time her tongue glides directly over your clit. you can tell by the tightening in your stomach that you’re close and abby seems to realize it too, her motions never lingering too long on the places she knows you’re the most sensitive. 
it isn’t until you’re trembling that abby picks up the pace, one of her hands letting go of your thigh in order to part your swollen lips so she can press her tongue against your entrance where you’re wet and clenching and sensitive. since she’s no longer holding it in place you’re able to use your free leg to push her against you harder and buck your hips against her face as your chase your orgasm, the moans you’d been attempting to keep to a reasonable volume once again getting loud enough to echo off of the tall walls of the gym.
she doesn’t deny you this time around and as you gasp out a warning that you’re about to cum, abby sucks your clit into her mouth, running the tip of her tongue over the swell of it. through the haze of your orgasm you can feel her moan where her lips are pressed against you, the hand that remains on your thigh squeezing in rhythm with the bucking of your hips against her face and her fingers sliding clumsily through the wet folds of your cunt with each of your movements.
“fuck, abby,” you pant as you return to yourself, relaxing your spent muscles flat against the mats as you catch your breath. abby trails the hand that isn’t between your legs up your side, splaying her fingers wide over your stomach and rubbing circles into your skin with her thumb as she continues to lick broad strokes over your cunt. 
you don’t attempt to push her away, laying compliant as she cleans you up with her tongue, though you twitch each time she gets too close to the tender area of your clit which she soothes with a comforting hum. abby remains between your legs until she’s satisfied with the state of you, your pussy still swollen with arousal and glistening wet from her spit and your own orgasm, so sensitive that even the gentle brush of her fingers as she removes them makes you squirm.
“look at you,” abby smiles as she sits back up on her knees, bending over you until your face is level with hers, “i’m gonna have to carry you out of here,” she chuckles and you nod sleepily in response, smiling up at her face with an expression you’re sure matches hers, tired and content and very much in love. she leans down to kiss you and despite the foreign taste of your cunt on her lips you wrap your arms around her shoulders, tugging her downwards until she lets the full weight of her body settle against you.
“give me five minutes,” you mumble, squeezing where your arms are wrapped around her until she makes an affirmative sound, “love you,” you add after a few seconds, just to make sure she knows.
“love you too,” she replies, pressing a quick kiss to the swell of your cheek.
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fangbangerghoul · 7 months ago
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New banner! Because I enjoy making them and I love American Dad.
Today the banner reflects the cringe I feel when I share my wips sometimes. I love fanfiction and I love it when others share and write fanfiction but occasionally it's hard to get over that small bump that tells me 'Should you really be writing that?'
Hopefully everyone's week has been good so far and the rest of the week gets even better! Today's WIP will not be a snippet of my DD2 fic but something else entirely that I have started working on shamelessly.
Tagging: @interplanet--janet, @a-cosmic-elf, @bearlytolerant, @lisa-and-shadow, and @therealgchu
WIP snippet under the cut. If you've noticed some of the posts I have been making recently that are not Dragon's Dogma 2 related, you might be able to guess what this fanfic is but if not oh well because I refuse to say it out loud until I am alone with it in a dark forest, and it demands me to.
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WIP!
Time had passed while she relaxed and felt the healing waters envelop her body. The wear and tear from travel almost drifted away completely until something faint had caught her senses. There was another body that softly approached within the same side of the hot springs as her and the tension that had melted away slowly returned to her core. Kiichi stayed silent as she watched for any sudden movements, and she did not put it pass anyone to try to collect the bounty on her head while she was in her most vulnerable state.
The water softly rippled towards her and that was when she saw the person who had sunken into the warm pool next to her. His hair was long and black as midnight and those unforgettable crimson eyes stared ahead not daring to peek her way. She was surprised to notice that he had climbed in as well, something unexpected from her knowledge of him. She saw behind him laid a few of his items, confirming he was also undressed, including his cloak decorated with red feathering clouds against a black void of fabric.
“Happy birthday.” The familiar voice broke the silence. Its sound bringing back core memories along with it and a vortex of grief and anger. Her teeth dug into her bottom lip to calm herself from the onslaught of feelings and a hint of iron touched her tongue.
“It's surprising that you didn't appear with a kunai to my neck to say that.” When she rose out the water enough to speak, she tried to keep back the hiss in her voice, but it seeped into the space between them against all her effort. The sloshing of water between her motions were the only thing that softened the aggression in her voice.
He did not respond to her question, nor did he look directly at her still. His eyes were fixed on the window that opened to the mountains ahead and she allowed herself to relax knowing he wasn't going to immediately attack. They simultaneously leaned onto the stones that were against their backs and she felt the stone scrape at her softening skin. She used the uncomfortable feeling to her advantage to stay on guard for his next move or words. Even for him this was unusual territory for the two of them.
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takeariskao3 · 1 year ago
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Day 7: Lover written for #SeveralSunlitDaylights & @corneliaavenue-ao3
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a version of this has existed since may of 2020 and it feels so good to finally put it into the universe after sitting on it for three (THREE!) years... i have a feeling i will continue this at some point and hopefully turn it into a full blow fic, but until then, enjoy some non-traditional, pandemic themed, sex pollen, a/b/o dynamics <33
They said it started in China. At the annual festival in Shanghai. 
Some experts claimed the mutation originated because of an uncharacteristically dry winter. Some blamed climate change. Others said it was all part of the cyclical nature of the earth. A purification process. Nature taking its course. 
The more hysterically minded said it was the end of the fucking world. 
Either way, Ginny watched in horror with the rest of Edinburgh as more and more reports flooded the news.
All across the northern hemisphere, the cherry trees were blossoming, and people were going mad.
~~~
The thing about fear was that it spread like wildfire. 
Grocery stores emptied of necessities overnight. The Prime Minister issued stay at home orders, some of the more populated areas even attempted a voluntary curfew. Borders were closed, air traffic came to a grinding halt, restaurants were instructed to only offer takeout, and any non-essential businesses were told to close their doors entirely. 
For a while, it all felt over-cautious. 
At least until the first case hit Cardiff. 
They said the little omega lasted three days in a severe heat until the pain and the dehydration finally rendered her unconscious. Her family rushed her to the emergency room and it was another two days before the hospital identified what was happening to her. They said before she was quarantined, she infected almost thirty people, nine of them hospital staff. 
It spread from twenty-nine confirmed cases to over three-hundred within a week, three-hundred became eight-thousand within the month.
And that was just Wales.
~~~
Birmingham was the third city to reach critical levels of contamination, after Liverpool and Manchester. 
They projected a global spread, the more densely populated areas being hit first. Each day the estimates increased, predicting numbers so catastrophic, there hadn’t been anything like it in over five-hundred years.
The real test, however, was London. 
There were reports that all the major cabinet members had been moved to separate and secure locations. That way if any of them contracted the sickness, at the very least, they wouldn’t infect the rest of the country's leaders. 
The worst part was nobody seemed to know anything. Records of the last pandemic were inconclusive or didn’t exist. No one knew how long the sickness lasted or how debilitating it really was. Less reliable news sources even reported deaths when the first wave hit eastern China, rumours spreading of alphas ripping each other apart over the chance to mate an omega.
But that’s all they were. 
Rumours. 
~~~
Designation had never mattered much to Ginny. It was just something stamped on her birth certificate next to seven pounds two ounces, eighteen inches long. Her ruts weren’t dramatic events, they were hardly even a disruption. Four times a year, she’d get the urge, use her fingers on herself three nights in a row and wait out the subsequent five days of bleeding.
Designation also hasn’t mattered to the world in decades. Suppressants went out of fashion after the turn of the century, the human race’s more animalistic instincts fading with each generation until the ruts and heats became nothing more than quarterly nuisances. Only a very small percentage of the population still needed herbs and homoeopathic blockers to get by, the rest went about their lives business as usual.
Humanity had evolved past such trivial things as Alpha, Beta, and Omega. 
But now, it was all anyone could talk about.
~~~
Dawdling around the townhouse, Ginny took her frustrations out in the form of kneading a lumpy, soon to be loaf of bread while half listening to the news. Her television emitted a scratchy noise every few seconds, but for a dumpster dive, it worked fine enough. Especially since for the six weeks she’d been stuck at home, she’d hardly turned the damn thing off. 
It wasn’t so much that she was dedicated to being informed, she just couldn’t bear the silence.
No honking cars, no nosy tourists, no shouting street vendors.
It was quiet in an uncomfortable way, in an unnatural way. In a way that left Ginny too much alone with her own thoughts. 
As she punched the dough down as hard as she could, her telly warbled out an odd static followed by the evening news anchor chatting animatedly with a couple who supposedly recovered from the sickness.
“And you think having each other,” the journalist asked in disbelief, “helped speed up your recovery?” 
“We realise it sounds a bit crazy, we aren’t even sure if there is science to support it–” a male voice responded. He sounded rational enough even though what he was saying went against every directive of social distancing. “But I’m an alpha, and my wife is an omega. When we both came down with it, we decided to stay home and wait it out together. Within a week or so we felt completely back to normal...”
Ginny snorted. The hospitals reported the illness lasting between twelve to fifteen days, not seven. And what were their credentials besides claiming to have been infected? The news station could interview anyone off the street. They’d probably interview her if she claimed she danced naked, covered in chicken’s blood beneath the full moon and it spared her. If anything, the segment was irresponsible. Now people were going to go out looking for a sex partner for the week.
Sighing at the downturn in journalistic integrity, she tuned out the rest of the interview, content to bask in the early May breeze wafting through the open windows.
Until she heard the squeak of brakes slow to a stop out front. 
And muffled voices. 
Followed by a car door slamming shut. 
She’d just begun to wonder which bluenose neighbour had arrived to hole up in a holiday house when footsteps scuffed up the stone walk, her stone walk, and a key slid into the lock of her front door.
The knob turned, the door clicked open, and Ginny stood rooted to the spot, covered in flour as her landlord (slash older brother’s best mate) appeared framed on the stoop. 
At first, Harry didn’t notice her. He stepped inside, careful to scrub his shoes on the mat before closing the door behind him and dropping his duffle unceremoniously in the foyer. He looked the same as he had nearly a year ago. He scratched a hand through the disaster hair piled atop his head then patted it all down again. His glasses were the same, and he still had the same little divot permanently etching his brow into a scowl. Beneath his anorak she could tell his lean frame still gave way to lanky limbs that shifted into slender fingers. 
Then the telly switched programs, the News giving way to some crime documentary, or something. Ginny wasn’t actually paying attention. At the change in music, Harry froze with his back halfway to her and his shoulders went tight. 
Then he turned on the spot, and he finally registered Ginny’s presence tucked away in the kitchen at the back of the house.
Their gazes held for several beats too long, both of them wide-eyed and startled by the existence of the other in such close proximity. 
Ginny’s heart thundered inside her chest, in a way that was achingly familiar and entirely unwelcome. 
“What are you– I didn’t think–” Harry stammered quickly. “Ron said he was meeting you back home?”
“He was,” Ginny answered, just as flustered. “I’d planned on it but– I couldn’t– I mean, I…changed my mind.”
Harry dug his fingers into his eyes behind his glasses and swore softly. He looked a bit peaky.  
“Christ, I’m an idiot,” He croaked. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve called.”
“No, it’s fine,” she reassured, not quite sure why she was pardoning his intrusion. “It’s still your house.”
They stared at each other in the silence for several beats too long, both of them seemingly at a loss for what to do next. 
“Er–” Harry finally stammered, a grin taking over his face. “Hi, by the way.”
Ginny laughed. “Yeah... long time, no see.”
They went in for a hug at the same time, but it was too light and too quick to feel natural. As he pulled away, Harry averted his gaze and let his eyes wander around the hall and the front two rooms. 
“Is Luna…” he trailed off, as if those two words were question enough. 
Ginny realised she was still covered in baking powder and half finished dough. She grabbed a tea towel from the hook and wiped her hands just for something to look at besides him. “She and her Dad were visiting family in Hamburg when the stay at home orders hit. She’s been stuck there for over a month. They can’t get a flight home.”
Harry nodded and let out a deep exhale of sympathy. “Fuck, yeah, that’d be awful.” He paused, shooting her a furtive glance. “And you? How–how are you?”
“Yeah, fine,” One half of her mouth tipped into a smile. “You?”
Shaking his head as if in thought, his hands fidgeted slightly in front of him. “Well, London is a disaster. They aren’t letting anyone leave their homes, or letting anyone into town. They’re letting people leave, but it took me ten days just to get approval to hop a train. I figured it couldn’t be so bad up here, you know? That’s why I…”
He trailed off again and Ginny wondered if he’d become incapable of finishing a coherent sentence in the time since she’d seen him last. 
“Makes sense,” she nodded generously. 
Harry remained exactly where he was, awkwardly perched on the welcome mat. 
“You can come in,” Ginny asserted and he flinched a bit like he hadn’t expected to actually be allowed to stay. 
“Right,” he cleared his throat and stepped forward like a man walking the plank. 
Busying herself with the kettle, she tried not to be too aware of his progress through the sitting room. 
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him wave to the bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. “I like what you’ve done with the place.”
Ginny grinned. The house held tell-tale signs of being solely occupied by her for the last month and a half. Stray jumpers, and rumpled throw pillows, and forgotten cups of tea sat scattered all around. The dishes in the sink were piled several days too high and the bananas on her countertop were just a shade too brown. 
“It’s a disaster,” she corrected, pulling her last two bags of tea out of the cupboard. 
Harry flashed her a smile, but it was gone just as quickly as it came. “I mean the furniture and things. The colours.”
“The colours?” she repeated incredulously. 
“Yeah,” he hummed, finally inching his way fully into the kitchen. He swallowed as his eyes settled on her once more. “It looks nice. Cosy.”
Snorting, she pulled her nearly empty carton of milk out of the refrigerator. “A sight better than when you and Ron lived here, you mean?”
That fleeting smirk again, there and then gone. “Do you know our sofa broke in two when we tried to move it out?”
“That does not surprise me in the slightest.”
Ginny poured and they both chuckled. She passed him one of the mugs and the milk, remembering how he took it. She reckoned it was one of those things she’d never forget. Like the opening to her favourite Spice Girls’ song, or her childhood phone number, or the rhymes to bonfire night. Two plus two equals four and Harry took his tea with milk, no sugar.
He tipped a splash into his cup, seemed to hesitate for a second, and then burst, “I can get a room. There’s got to be a hotel open in Old Town–”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Ginny cut across him, spooning a heap of sugar into her own tea. Again, she wasn’t quite sure why she was contradicting him, but she refused to chase the thought down, because then she’d have to acknowledge that somewhere deep down she wanted him to stay. 
“Ginny,” he croaked. “I can’t intrude like this. I’ll figure something out. I’ll go stay at Sirius’ place in the country, or–”
“Harry,” she interrupted him again. “It’s your house.”
He seemed determined to put himself out. “But I can’t just show up out of the blue and–”
“Luna took your old room–” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken.
“I mean, you pay rent!” Now he was just talking to himself. “I had no right–”
“And she’s obviously not using it–” Ginny reasoned, though the ramifications of what she was suggesting crept up on her in a gradual recognition of awareness. 
“I bet the Chisholm Hunter has rooms–”
“Harry!” she cut across him in humoured agitation. “It’s fine. Stay tonight, or the next few days, or a week, until you figure it out. It’s fine.”
He blinked, the furrow between his brows deepening in thought. “You’re sure it’s okay?”
“Yes,” she lied, like a liar. “It’s not a big deal.”
It was kind of a big deal, but she could handle it. 
“You said they aren’t letting people into London, right?” Ginny continued. “What are you going to do? Rent a room until they let you go back home? That could be months!”
He opened his mouth as if to argue, then shut it again and exhaled sharply through his nose. 
“Yeah, alright,” He conceded. “But only until I can get ahold of Sirius. Then, I swear, I’ll get out of your hair.”
The statement stung, just a little. As if getting out of her sight was vastly preferable than remaining in it. 
“Where is he?” Ginny asked instead, lifting her mug to her mouth as if completely unaffected. 
Harry pulled out his mobile and punched in his passcode. “Australia. Apparently their cherry trees don’t bloom until September.”
A scoff bubbled up in the back of her throat. “Lucky Australia.”
He muttered something that sounded like agreement and pressed the phone to his ear. As he meandered back into the sitting room, Ginny turned her cupboards in search of biscuits. Surely, she still had a package left somewhere. 
Harry returned within moments. “Didn’t answer.”
“Well,” she shrugged, “Isn’t it like three in the morning?”
Harry gave her a flat look. “It’s Sirius.”
She laughed. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.”
Something in his expression sparked at her reaction and it made the breath in her lungs go shallow. 
Just like his smiles, the flare of something was there and then gone in an instant. She tried not to feel the familiarity of it, really she did, but something hollowed out spread through her middle at the reminder of her nearly debilitating infatuation, and then its eventual collapse. 
Ginny cleared her throat, coming back to her senses. “So, you said it took you forever to get a train ticket. Have they decreased the routes?”
“Oh, erm–” Harry took a sip of tea that was clearly too hot for his mouth and he winced. “Yeah, and they’re checking into everyone who books.”
Understanding washed over her. “Right, so they make sure people aren’t…”
Great, now she was incapable of finishing her sentences. 
He looked to her uncomfortably. “I hadn’t actually ever seen my birth certificate, I just always figured I was a Beta. Had to have a Doctor check me over once to make sure I wasn’t — you know — that I hadn’t gone unidentified.” 
“Right, good. Nice.”
Why exactly was it nice? She should really stop talking. 
“Is that why you…” He gestured vaguely south with one hand. “Couldn’t…go home?”
“Oh, er-” Ginny resisted the urge to cringe. “No.”
In reality, she’d had plenty of time to book a train to Devon before they started restricting the passengers who were designated one way or the other, but she hadn’t had the funds.
Harry’s gaze sharpened in curiosity. 
“Do you want to put your stuff upstairs?” she asked brightly. “You must be knackered after travelling all day.”
~~~
Ginny retreated to the bathroom, closing the door softly behind her and leaning back against the sink. Shortly after Harry had settled into Luna’s room, his old room, she’d heard his mobile ring. His muffled voice through the mostly closed door had been maddening, and nearly too tempting to eavesdrop on, so she’d escaped. 
She was half-torn. One part of her wished Sirius was offering up his country house to his godson immediately, and the other part hoped there was some flood, or fire, or other natural disaster that made it inhabitable. 
Because the prospect of spending time with someone, but especially him; to not be alone hour after hour and day after day, was almost too exquisite to contemplate. 
Christ, she was hopeless. 
With nothing better to do than simmer in her own thoughts, Ginny turned the taps to the bath and adjusted the temperature until the shower spray was borderline scorching. She spent an excessive amount of time washing her hair and scrubbing her skin. She didn’t bother trying to figure out if she was doing it consciously or subconsciously, but she did know she was avoiding the end of her shower. Because as soon as she left the bath, she’d find out if he was staying or going. 
Both scenarios felt too formidable to contemplate. 
Eventually, though, the water ran cold, and Ginny couldn’t hide any longer. 
After brushing her teeth, applying night cream, and wrapping herself up in her dressing gown, Ginny yanked open the bathroom door to find Harry standing directly in the doorway, with his fist raised as if to knock. 
“Oh, sorry–” He muttered, his gaze flitting down her body and back up again. His face flushed just enough to notice. “That was Sirius,” he continued. “I can stay at his place, so I’ll be out of here as soon as I can book a train.” 
Ginny pulled in a breath and did her best to keep it even. “Right. Good.”
She felt anything but good. 
Squeezing past him and into the hallway, she kept her expression bright and open until she was safe inside her bedroom. 
In her haste, she missed the way his eyes fluttered shut as she passed. 
~~~
That night was unseasonably hot. The forecast had called for it to be a mild week, balmy and temperate, so Ginny wasn’t sure why the air wafting in through her open window felt so stifling. As she tossed and turned, a light sheen of sweat clung to her skin, and she contemplated the merits of another shower. This time a cold one. 
She settled for a glass of water instead. 
Padding down the hall toward the stairs, Ginny skirted past Luna’s room as quickly and quietly as she could. However, in the end, stealth didn’t matter.  
Harry was already in the kitchen, propped up against the sink and looking pale. 
“You okay?” Ginny muttered, taking a tentative step forward. 
Clenching his eyes shut, Harry kept his head down and nodded. “I don’t know what’s happened to my stomach. Food poisoning or something–”
“I may have some Pepti upstairs?”
Harry nodded again. 
She took a step closer, reaching for a glass from the shelf when the scent hit her. It smelled like fresh spring mornings, and the citrus of Earl Grey tea, and the warmth of never being alone. It smelled like home. 
Every instinct she had screamed at her to take in more of it, to surround herself in it. Harry’s eyes met hers through the dim light and she saw him pull in a deep inhale through flared nostrils. 
In an instant, her mind was restless and her body uncomfortably warm. Parts of her she didn’t know could ache, gnawed and cramped in time with her too loud pulse.
She dropped the glass she’d been holding at the same time Harry lept backwards. 
In some corner of her mind, she knew what was happening. All of the doctors listed the same symptoms over and over; heightened senses, irregular body temperature, lower-abdominal cramps, increased libido. However, she was firmly ignoring the signs… especially the last one. It was much easier to dismiss her body’s immediate urges as coincidence. Otherwise, she would also have to admit what triggered it. 
For fuck’s sake, Harry triggered it. 
But that would mean he–
Fucking fuck, fuck, fuck.
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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 10 months ago
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the fact that gojo genuinely wanted to teach him about love…… that he wanted to reach out to him and save him from his isolation.
YES!! the whole "i will remember you.." HAS ME FUCKED UP like. there's a few ways it could be interpreted but it gives me the same feeling as when you 'love' someone so much, you honour or cherish the memory of them forever.. AHHHHHH I LOVE THEM SO MUCH
thank you ari for the link <33 when i read the chapter I will be back to let you know my thoughts and feelings :3 I have so many photos in my camera roll of just me sobbing after jjk so :3 definitely scared :3 With 252.. you're very right it's really sad that it's actually quite far from how detailed Gege likes his fights to be. Art style and breaks are on two different spectrums. Complaining about him taking breaks is the biggest NO from me. like PLEASE let Gege release a chapter a month. Every single week is WAY too much for a mangaka - there's only so much a person can do within 6 days :// From a pure quality and marketing standpoint it'll allow him to : process his OWN thoughts, more detailed drawings and (longer) chapters, perhaps even formulate a proper plan for the manga, and the hype will be bigger as well. Especially right now where it is getting criticism and being called repetitive - there is less hype because everyone knows they'll get answers in the next week. But most importantly REST. he is not a machine and you are very right about that!!
something to look forward to :3 (tbf i was especially into it bc i love takaba and kenny lmao but i still think you’ll find it fun!! you can tell akutami was having a blast)
also!! i just thought I'd let you know.. i never really got kenny (kenny is so messed up and i dislike(d) them) but you're the blog that made me understand the lore!! and I even started reading some kenny fics.. Anyways, i think that's enough for today and I'll shut up now haha!! <33
OHHHHH ANON WE’RE HOLDING HANDS OUR BRAINS ARE SMOOCHING
i agree completely 🫂 when i saw that line i kept thinking of sukuna like. centuries into the future…. in a completely different world ….. STILL remembering gojo and no one else. it’s such a wonderful fucking line not only because sukuna looks so sincerely pleased saying it but because it’s proof that gojo DID reach him!!!! gojo wanted to prevent sukuna from feeling alone and he succeeded because sukuna will never truly be alone as long as he’s carrying gojo’s memory with him. they make me insane
PLS DO SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE CHAPTER ONCE YOU READ IT …. i’d love love love to hear!!!! :3 take your time though… get your tissues ready……. aaa and !!! 100% agree on the monthly chapters. that should just be a standard atp but sadly it isn’t…. :ccc i rlly do think gege deserves one long longgggg break to rest up properly.
also!! i just thought I'd let you know.. i never really got kenny (kenny is so messed up and i dislike(d) them) but you're the blog that made me understand the lore!! and I even started reading some kenny fics..
ALSO THIS !!!!!!!! ANON…….. T_T this made me so happy you have NO idea. i’m so glad i could turn you around on him!!! he’s such a silly, interesting, fun little guy :’3 (very fucked up too but that’s just another charm point imo) and aaa the kenny fics !! the world needs sm more of those … i’m working on a no curses au fic for him but i have no idea when it’s getting out …… </3 hopefully soon!!!! anyway pdhdjdj i’m just so happy that you’re a kenny enjoyer now!! welcome to the cult club !!!! 🫂🫂
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